Summary: In which reader from the 1940s knows just how to play the damsel in distress to get exactly what she wants in the modern age after coming out of the ice.
Or should I say: 3 times Bucky did things for you, and the 1 time you did something for him. SMUT!!!
2.9k wc
Natasha knew body language better than anyone. Tony knew how to play the knight in shining armour better than any hero in the old tales they told.
So of course, they were the first ones to pick up on the little game you were playing. It had started the second you were back from under the ice, charming anyone you spoke to with your 1940's valley girl accent, using words you'd only hear in old television. Men fell at your feet the second words came out of your mouth, offering you anything you'd dream of, and it didn't have anything to do with the super-soldier serum in your system either. You politely declined every time, but eventually understood the kind of power you held.
The second charming method they noticed you had came from your gorgeous smile. The moment you looked up at someone through your long lashes and beamed widely, looking so innocent and kind, people were willing to give you the clothes off their back if you asked. Of course, you never accepted anything from complete strangers. The two Avengers had come to their conclusion that you were still accustoming yourself to the norms of the new world, unaware of your ability to bewitch people with your natural appeal, however it was not long before they were proven wrong.
They didn't know if it was the fact that you were so familiar to Bucky and Steve, a comfort amongst all things new that made them more vulnerable to do anything for you, or if it was just your flirt, but they were immediately intrigued after seeing your interactions with the soldiers. They'd seen the way you spoke to the two soldiers just after coming out of the ice and hadn't noticed anything unusual apart from the fact you'd essentially come out of a time machine. As the weeks, months passed, they knew your intentions.
It had started by witnessing a simple conversation between you and the two soldiers. "Well I'm all nerves about going to speak to Agent Fury about that last mission. He's going to get all bent and blow a fuse." The two soldiers stood either side of you turned to face you in such synchrony it had almost been comical. Bucky was the first to speak, "Don't worry doll, I can go speak to him if you'd like. You shouldn't be the one he chews out." "Anyway," Cuts in Steve "We were the ones who screwed up honey, not you." From across the kitchen, Natasha rolled her shoulders back, nudging Tony with her elbow lightly as she stirred sugar into her coffee. Their eyes widened slightly at the wide smile sprawling itself on your face, peeking back and forth between the two men.
"Really? You boys don't have to do that just for me." Steve straightened his posture impossibly at your comment, but it was Bucky who beat him to the comment. "Honey, I'd do anything for a broad like you." You cocked your head to the side, a hand coming up to rest on his muscled bicep. "Why, thank you Sergeant. You dreamboats are too kind". Natasha's eyes trailed over to Tony when the three of you finally left, the two boys accompanying you seemingly wherever you wanted to go. "See, I didn't understand half of that conversation, but they are wrapped around her finger." Tony hummed "She's smarter than we thought."
The second time they witnessed it, they were convinced that you did it on purpose, their image of you quickly turning from innocent and naive to a femme fatale, manipulating men into thinking they're doing things for you because they want to. You'd all been hitting the bars, only missing Thor from the team. You had been occupying a large round booth, wedged between Bucky and Natasha, giggling with her about the man she found attractive sat at the bar, whilst the four men at the table shared stories. Natasha's eyes were quickly drawn to your hand as you placed it on Bucky's thigh, the man putting his own hand over yours almost instantly as he glanced down at you. You returned his look, grinning widely before turning back to your conversation with the tall red-head.
Natasha carried on with the conversation, pretending not to notice the intimate moment you'd shared with the soldier, but her jaw went slack nonetheless when Bucky leaned closer to you not two minutes later, whispering "You're drinking a margarita, right?" And rising from his seat when you nodded at him, humming in agreement. Bucky joined the group once more with two drinks in hand: one for him and one for you, smiling proudly when you cocked your head to the side, insisting he didn't have to. He only wrapped one muscled arm around your shoulders as a response, pulling you closer to him despite the humidity of the bar.
When you leant your head on Bucky's shoulder, stealing a glimpse up at him though, Natasha was no longer assured that those tricks up your sleeve were to get what you wanted. Perhaps you used them to get who you wanted. She sipped her drink instead of making a comment, afraid to scare you away with any questions when you'd only just begun getting close to her. Maybe in a couple of weeks during a girls' trip to the bathroom she'd bring up your relationship with him.
That girls' trip didn't end up being in a bathroom, but in a changing room, because next time something so significant had happened, the entire team was training together for the first time in a while, and Steve had declared that you were all doing a round robin. If you were still in the military, sure - you'd have moaned about it, throwing your head back in disappointment and hoping your supervisor hadn't seen you complain. But now, with the super-serum in your bloodstream? Well, you supposed you could be in a worst position, like Tony's, who didn't have any super-powers or spy training. With so many of you on the team, it'd take numerous matches for everyone to have their turn against each of their teammates, so after a quick warm-up, everyone had settled down on the mats of the martial arts training area to watch.
Soon later, everyone who was sat on the mats was trying to catch their breath as two team-mates sparred on the mats. Tony stood after Thor and Steve's match, adding another tally next to Thor's name on the big planning whiteboard before turning around with a wide smirk on his face. "Last match of the day." Bucky hopped up from next to you, sticking a hand out for you to take. Hesitantly, you took it, only for him to pull you up to your feet. "Us?" You asked, only for him to nod. "Well, I'm gonna let you have it, Barnes." You teased, tightening your ponytail. "Oh come on, might as well reach for the sky now, y/n."
"Steve, what the hell are they saying?" Called out Clint, leaning over to see the blonde man from across Natasha. "She's gonna hit him hard, and he says she should just give up now." Replied the man, taking another sip from his water. Tony picked up the whistle next to him, blowing into it, before scrambling back to watch with the others. The second the time started, Bucky faltered - how the hell was he supposed to hit you? But there was already a fist flying to his face which he barely dodged, instead swatting your wrist away from him.
You stared at him intensely from behind your fists, shielding your face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Come on Barnes!" Steve yelled from the sidelines. Bucky's face mirrored yours, his eyes laced with confusion, but he threw a fist anyhow, going for a body shot instead of your face. Nevertheless, you moved to the right, dodging his fist, and grabbing his arm as leverage to help you jump up. You threw your right leg over his shoulder, and behind his neck, swinging your other leg over his second shoulder, and crossing it over your right leg to trap his arm between your legs and over your torso. You tensed your quads as much as you could, hoping the triangle choke would work on him, but instead he used his metal arm to push your thigh over his head as much as he could. It was working, slowly but surely.
"Fuck" you muttered when he slipped his head in the gap between his shoulder and your thigh. You were now essentially hanging onto his arm, both legs over one shoulder. Before he could react, you flexed your core muscles, and sat up onto his shoulder. You released his arm, jumping off his shoulder so you landed behind him, and softly push-kicked him the back so he stumbled forward. As he did though, one hand reached behind him and grabbed your ankle, so you were dragged along with him. You slipped onto your back as he fell forward but Bucky was quicker, getting up instantly to straddle your hips. He leaned forward, above you, trying to get his arms around your neck to get you in a chokehold, but the second you giggled, he shot back up again.
"Sorry, that tickled." You insisted, hand coming to your neck to play the part better, a broad smile gracing your lips. Just as Bucky opened his mouth to say something, you reached out to grab both his hands, bucking your hips up and turning to the side to flip him over. You were on top of him in the blink of an eye, mimicking his movements as your arms snaked around his neck. You successfully put him in the same chokehold he had tried to put you in, but when you twisted your wrists, the blood supply to his face immediately cut off and you felt his hand tapping you twice on the shoulder. "You cheat." Was the first thing he said after his gasp for air, but you only shrugged, rolling off his chest. "I was only using sources available to me."
You giggled as you ran off to catch up to Natasha, already waiting for you by the doors to the changing room. "So..." She started, quite obviously. "So... What?" You echoed, looking up at her curiously, shimmying out of your shorts. You turn around so your back faces her as you struggle out of your sports bra, wrapping your towel around your sweaty body before spinning back around. "You and Bucky. This flirting has been going on for weeks. Do you like him, are you dating?" You laughed, cocking your head to the side. "You don't know?" She shook her head quickly, sitting down on a bench. On the other hand, you just opened one of the doors to the clean showers, calling out to her.
"Well, before the ice, me and Buck knew each other from the military, we got along well. The only problem was, he was my superior. I couldn't possibly make a pass at him and be known as the soldier who had the nerve to try and lay paws on her superior. But there was always something there..." At the lack of response, you stuck your head back out of the shower, to make sure Natasha was still there. "Natasha?" The spy looked at you with her mouth wide open in shock. "What!? And you never told me?" You shrugged, turning the water on. "Well I thought y'all knew."
Her silence told you enough about how much she really knew. As she muttered to herself on the other side of the door, you submerged yourself in the water, massaging shampoo into your hair, hearing flashes of "before the ice" and "he was your superior?" so you assumed she was still talking to you, even though you ignored most of what she said. You barely heard her goodbye and the sound of the changing room door opening and closing one more time, before the sound of water running was all you could hear.
"Y/n? Natasha let me in, she said you were done." You perked up at the sound of Bucky's voice, exclaiming "Here!" He approached the sound of your voice, stopping when he realised Natasha had deceived him. He stood in front of the dark wooden door, watching the steam dance in the space above your door. "Is it anything urgent?" The towel hanging from the door disappeared into the other side, and Bucky realised shaking his head wasn't enough of an answer because the door swung open to reveal you, soaking wet and completely naked with the exception of the small towel that barely covered your private parts. "Oh! Hey you!" You exclaimed, taken aback at his proximity, yet smiling all the while.
Bucky stood frozen in place, mouth ajar as he search for his words. "I'm sorry, I- I, you look beautiful." You giggled at his words, approaching his shirtless, freshly showered figure. His long hair was wet and skin was glistening, and he only wore a pair of jogger shorts to conceal himself. You have to admit, they weren't doing a great job and covering the growing tent in them. Your eyes trailed back up his body to meet his, smiling at him again. "Anything I can help you with, Sergeant?" Bucky's hands hesitantly rose to meet your hips. "I-No it's fine." Your hand met his and you dragged him with you three steps backwards, back into the shower you had just exited. You reached your arm behind him, locking the door once more.
"You're sure?" Bucky shook his head, pulling your hips flush against his as he slammed his lips against yours in a needy kiss. You gasped as your towel started to unravel, but you didn't try to stop it, wrapping your arms around Bucky's shoulders instead. When he separated from you, opening his eyes, they immediately widened, and his bit his lip, poorly trying to suppress a moan. You pushed Bucky back gently, urging him to sit on the small wooden bench. He sat down, legs spreading to make space for you between them, but when you started lowering yourself onto your knees, he shook his head frantically, begging "No, no, none of that, doll. I just want you sweetheart."
The cold metal of his arm flush against your skin chilled you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you up to sit on his laps. He grunted, frantically pulling down his cotton shorts. You aided him at doing so, gasping when his cock sprung out, the absence of any underwear surprising you. You immediately took his dick in your hands, watching as Bucky's face scrunched up in pleasure. You guided him inside you, sitting down flat on his dick, but you couldn't help the loud moan that escaped you as you did. You whined, beginning to drag yourself up and down his dick, gradually speeding up your movements. Bucky's hips met your frantically, until his pace was so quick you couldn't keep up. "Buck!" At your plead, he wrapped an arm around you, using his metal one to support both your weights on the wall, and he stood up, walking forward until your back was pressed against the cold shower wall.
You gasped at its feeling against your skin, jerking forward once more when Bucky's metal hand came up to play with your nipples as his speed increased once more. Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, cussing loudly before biting his bottom lip in fear of being heard. His hand left your breasts, instead blinding searching for the shower handle. When he found it, he immediately pushed it upwards, the instant noise of water shooting out moderately covering the sounds of pleasure you made. Your wrapped your arms around his tighter, grinding your pussy onto his pelvis as he thrusted into you, your clit rubbing on the short hairs near the base of his dick.
You busied yourself pressing kisses on Bucky's neck, the water squelching between your bodies as you passionately moved against each other. "Fuck y/n" Bucky moaned, chasing your lips, panting against them once he met them in a deep kiss. Your hands cupped his face as you kissed, deepening it impossibly, and his metal hand went straight to your clit, rubbing circles on it as fast as he could. Your leg twitched and you didn't have time to warn him before you were cumming all over him. "Shit!" Bucky grunted, pulling out of you as he balanced you on the wall, his hand coming to jerk himself off quicker. You put your hand over his, legs still wrapped around his torso, teasing his sensitive tip as you stroked him up and down. With a deep shudder, white stripes of cum shot out of him, painting your belly white, only to be washed away with the shower's stream.
Bucky put you down gently, making sure you wouldn't slip before cupping your face with his large hands and bringing you in for a much slower, more passionate kiss. You pulled away from him, keeping him close as you peppered kisses all over his face. He laughed, trying to pull away from you and saying,
"We should have done this about 80 years ago doll, don't you think?
lowkey need to see some stark!reader and rogers!reader fics. especially brothers best friend!bucky omg im begging. and maybe a cheeky pietro/peter x reader (tonys daughter)🫦😩
summary٠ ࣪⭑ ─── a couple days where i post drabbles and smaller fics for a mini kinktober to get my thoughts running :) - some prompts may be updated or changed as the days go on !!
about a boy⋆.° ─── tboy!bucky x reader
prompt ☆ : cunnilingus//drunk sex
coming ★: october fifth
just like heaven⋆˙⟡ ─── college!bucky x f!reader
prompt ☆ : voyeurism (and a lil anal play)
coming ★: october tenth
patient boy⋆˙⟡ ─── brothers best friend!bucky x f!reader
prompt ☆ : mutual masturbation
coming ★: october fifteenth
paraphernalia⊹ ࣪ ˖ ─── stoner boyfriend!bucky x f!reader
synopsis. the constant questions about your sexual activity, your experience and how many guys you’ve kissed become tiring, the insecurities of not knowing a single thing in the bedroom shining through your personality, so you decide to ask the closest person in your life—bucky—to help you, which he gladly does, but not before ruining you for other men.
warnings. 18+ mdni, explicit content, smut, unprotected sex, piv, loss of virginity, crying during sex, fingering, use of nicknames (many idk), oral (m&f!receiving), messy makeout, gentle sex, size kink, praising, finger sucking, choking, manipulation, a little bit of blood, dumbification, anal sex, overstimulation, dacryphilia, gaslighting, hair pulling (f!receiving), dom!bucky. wc. 3.9k
vivi’s thoughts. the first series on my blog and i couldn’t more nervous.. (kidding), ((i’m not)). thank you for all the support on my other fanfics & drabbles, hope you enjoy this one, i poured my heart and soul into it.
series playlist. (new addition) // main masterlist.
series taglist. comment below or slide into my dms if you want to be tagged!
summary: day twenty-one of the sexy september scribbles challenge. prompt: "almost there, just a little more."
tags: 18+ mdni, explicit content, penetration (piv), bucky is hung and we all know it, patronization/condescension, many uses of bunny as a pet name
word count: 0.5k
author’s note: clearly... i did not try hard to keep this under 300 words...
masterlist » read on ao3
“Almost there, bunny,” Bucky murmurs, his nose brushing against your nape. “Just a little more for me, yeah?”
More, he says, but you’re already so full.
It’s to the point you’re lying prone despite starting not so long ago on your hands and knees, forced onto your stomach from the sheer enormity of your boyfriend’s cock. The length, the girth, the stretch, the force had been too much for you to handle.
And it is still, to this very moment of him pinning you down with the weight of his body, trying to stuff your poor pussy further, much too much.
“T-there’s nowhere to go,” you whine in protest as your hands fist the blanket beneath you. As though squeezing the bunched-up fabric could help at all.
It doesn’t.
Not as his lips lower over your neck, curling into a languid smile.
Not as his hips shift from side to side, and he coos, “But I have more to give you, bunny.”
His words aren’t enough of a warning; his pelvis snaps forward before you can register what he’s said, forcing a choked cry from the center of your chest. To your chagrin, it only emphasizes how his hips aren’t even near your ass—how there are still inches of his length he wants to cram into you.
“Won’t you take it? Won’t you take it for me, bunny?” His voice is the epitome of saccharine and smooth, making the question seem almost innocent, but there’s a hint of an edge in his tone. Teasing, when he asks, “Or, oh—does my bunny not want it?”
You shake your head, wanting to tell him that you do but you can’t. Concern coats your throat when you try to respond. “Bucky, I—”
He doesn’t allow you to finish, interrupting you with a hum, one that sounds like disappointment or disapproval.
“Hm. Sounds like you don’t,” he says, and you feel how his lips have turned down in displeasure. Before you can try to refute his claim, before you can utter any sort of sound, that edge in his tone returns, mocking. Harsher.
“My bunny doesn’t want my cock. My bunny is so ungrateful.”
He punctuates his last word by attempting to snap his hips into you, but even now, your body won’t take his cock in its entirety. Your back bows away from him, but Bucky only follows, pressing his torso flush to the curve of your spine.
You don’t even know how you manage to answer with the way his weight is bearing into you, but somehow, by some miracle, you have the breath. “I’m not—I-I want your cock, Bucky, but it’s just too much a-and I can’t—”
“It’s all or nothing, bunny.” It’s calculating, condescending, cutting through your worries with the stern depth of his voice. Then, softer, almost affectionate, an offer. “So what’ll it be?”
The choice is obvious—obviously not entirely yours, but obvious all the same.
“All,” you pant, splaying your fingers flat over the blanket. “All of you, Bucky, please.”
Thinking about chomping on Bucky's big biceps cus he looks yummy
Sometimes, you get in these moods. Primitive moods where everything about Bucky is somehow more attractive but on steroids.
Or... you're ovulating. You haven't checked your cycle recently, so you're not sure.
But when Bucky's sat next to you on the couch – giant biceps bulging against the navy blue fabric of his compression shirt – all you can focus on is not drooling.
You know that he knows you're staring at him.
That you're in one of your "moods."
He can never exactly pinpoint what the exact reaction is gonna be between a heated makeout session that begins with you tracing a finger up the side of his arm, to giving him head in the middle of the den, to him eating you out on the couch.
Today, however, you're not feeling as sexual as you are possessive.
And something about the way that Bucky's soft skin is just out in the open without obvious branding of yourself — be it a doodle, a bracelet you shoved up his arm, or a set of your teeth imprinted into the thick muscle — it's making you lose it.
So you wait for the perfect moment to strike while he drops his hand to his lap, using his metal one to scroll through his phone.
"The hell are you doing?" He asks without looking up.
You take that as your opening.
You test the waters and sink your teeth deeper.
And in a moment, you're sinking your teeth into his bicep. Bucky immediately jumps, turning to make eye contact with you.
When you don't move to release your hold on his meaty bicep, Bucky lets out a broken whimper before pulling you off of him with a panicked "Okay, okay, okay. I got it. Let go!"
Bucky winces some and flicks your forehead with his metal fingers. You tighten your jaw and Bucky lets out a sharp hiss, "Fucker."
You pull off of him, leaving strings of drool that connect from your lips to his freckled skin where red indents from your teeth are flush against his complexion.
"The hell is wrong with you?" He rubs his metal hand over the sensitive area.
Bucky pulls the sleeve of his top up to look over the damage. Instantly, his skin is healing over though the idents of your teeth remain a few more moments.
You shrug.
"Just felt like biting you."
"Yeah?" Buckys brows raise.
"Mhm" you nod.
Bucky nods with you, "Yeah, you just felt like biting me?"
You hesitate to respond this time. Watching him closely as if his laid-back demeanor was merely an illusion for a far more ornery reality.
Bucky brings his bitten arm over your head to rest on the back of the couch, grazing his fingers against the skin of your shoulder.
You begin to shy away at his touch, moving back some.
"Where y'goin, cutie?" Bucky pulls at the strap of your top, letting it snap back against your skin, "C'mere."
You follow his lead, crawling over him to straddle his lap.
"Gonna let me bite you back?" He asks, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.
You nod cautiously.
Bucky seems surprised at your honest reply as he moves to press soft kisses against the tips of your fingers and to the palm of your hand, mumbling "Oh, you are?" Against your skin as he takes playful bites.
You grow bashful under his gaze and squirm in his hold, giggling as you try to pull your hand away.
"What do we say?" Bucky asks, tickling the scruff of his beard against the curve of your jaw.
You squeal, mumbling out a short and fast apology.
"What was that?" Bucky pulls back to kiss your chin, "I think I missed that. Can't hear as well as I used to." He teases.
"M'sorry for biting you." You ease, playing with your hands in your lap.
"D'awh," Bucky coos, "s'okay pretty." He cups your jaw in one large hand, squeezing your plush cheeks together, "know you didn't mean it."
His metal hand strokes at your hip bone, circling the soft of your skin under your lounge wear.
Does It Hurt? BONUS CHAPTER: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Sex Pollen Fic
Summary: When you're finally out of HYDRA's clutches, the recovery process drives you and Bucky farther and farther apart. You can't decide if what you felt between you was real or chemically-induced. What will it take to sway you?
Read the first part here.
Warnings: angst, unprotected sex (non-descriptive), profanity, no use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 12.4k
A/N: The fic is up and only five hours late 🫶🏼
There was a time when Bucky Barnes felt like everything just might turn out okay for him. It was brief, fleeting, but it was a time he remembers well. It was the night he had you on the back of his bike, with his helmet protecting your head and your arms wrapped tightly around him. He may have just pistol-whipped the son of a bitch who was so damn insistent on feeling you up, but he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt over it. He only felt an unfamiliar warmth everywhere that your body made contact with his as he pushed past the speed limit on the highway. Something about it all felt so…good. The two of you were halfway back to the tower when he came to the conclusion that he actually felt normal with you on the back of his bike. He didn’t feel like he was over a hundred years old and stuck in the wrong century. He didn’t feel like he had committed an atrocious number of human rights violations, and all for the wrong side of history. He didn’t even feel like he was an unforgivable, unfixable product of experimentation. He felt like his old self, before the serum was ever introduced into his system, before he lost his arm. He felt like Bucky Barnes with a pretty girl pressed against him, and truth be told, he hated it. He hated the way that this odd feeling that he might be okay, that life could maybe turn out fine for him, seemed to be inexplicably linked to you.
The soft cushion of Dr. Raynor’s office couch molds to Bucky’s shape as he sinks down into the center of it, parting his knees and turning his head to the left to take in the rolling gray clouds outside of the wall of windows. He doesn’t want to be here today. He knows it’ll start raining by the time his session ends, yet he still chose to take his motorcycle out for the half-hour away from the tower. He’ll get stormed right off of the highway, and he doesn’t really give a shit about it.
When Dr. Raynor walks in just a moment later, she can sense Bucky’s foul mood immediately. It makes the air in her office feel stale and stagnant. If she was a more spiritual person, she would probably aggressively sage the space after the session. Dr. Raynor moves to her seat across from the couch and takes in the sight of her client. He sits on the couch, looking almost defeated, with a dark outfit to match his dark aura. Dark boots, dark jeans, and a dark shirt beneath a dark leather jacket.
“The funeral isn’t until Saturday.” Dr. Raynor begins the session, flipping open the notebook on her knee and balancing a pen atop it. Bucky turns his head, looking across the room at her with a raised brow and pursed lips. “Aren’t you dressed for it a little too soon?” He scoffs at the dig, turning his head once more to watch as the first drops of rain begin to fall from the gray sky.
“This is how I always dress.” Bucky argues, but there’s little effort in his tone. He doesn’t really care what she thinks about his wardrobe.
“You’re wearing the leather jacket today. Are you riding your motorcycle in this weather?” Dr. Raynor presses on, still choosing to focus on his clothes. Bucky rolls his eyes before dropping his gaze down to where his hands rest on his thighs. He starts tugging his gloves off one at a time before dropping them on the couch beside him.
“A little rain won’t ruin a ride.” He responds dryly. Dr. Raynor cocks her head to the side at his dismissal.
“I’m starting to think you have a death wish. Do you really think your team wants to attend two funerals in the same month?” Bucky only shrugs at her question, so up the pen goes and she begins scrawling away on the blank page. Bucky scowls, dropping his shoulders and scrunching up his face.
“Really, doc? I thought you stopped doing the passive aggressive thing months ago.”
“And I thought you stopped acting like a pre-pubescent boy who doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings.” Dr. Raynor retorts, letting the pen still in her hand and hover over the page. She wasn’t really writing anything of essence, but the trick always seems to work on Bucky.
“I took the bike because it’s loud.” Bucky explains. He reaches up and runs his flesh hand through his hair, messing it up a bit as a sigh leaves his chest. “It makes it harder to hear my own thoughts.”
“What thoughts are you trying to drown out?” She sets the pen down on the notebook and Bucky’s eyes follow it closely. She watches as he wars within himself, as he tries to decide what things to share and what things to bury. Bucky shakes his head like he’s refusing to answer, but then his eyes land on the pen once more and he decides to speak.
“All of them.” Bucky knows that Dr. Raynor hates when he’s vague, even more than she hates when he doesn’t want to talk at all.
“Give me a few examples of the thoughts you’ve been having today.” As soon as she requests it of him, Bucky’s mind is falling into the dark abyss he’s been trying so hard to crawl out of for the past week. He can see everything when he closes his eyes, hear everything that happened replaying all over again.
“Where is she? Where the hell is she?” Bucky yelled out, pushing against Sam’s chest with both hands hard enough to send him crashing into the stark white wall behind.
“Bucky, you have to calm down.” Sam responded, holding his hands up, refusing to physically engage with the raging super soldier. “I’m not telling you anything when you’re in this state, man. You need to sit down and get your shit together.”
“Let me see her.” Sam had never heard Bucky sound so desperate, so fucking devastated.
“Bucky…”
Dr. Raynor can see straight through him. She knows he’s having a flashback just from the pained look in his eyes and the way his hands keep curling into fists and then uncurling just as fast, repeating the movement over and over. She gives him a few seconds, noting the tension he holds in his jaw.
“James?” Dr. Raynor calls his name softly, leaning forward in her chair a little and waving her hand. He blinks a couple of times before focusing in on her face and letting his muscles relax into the couch.
“I’ve been thinking about the first day in the hospital.” Bucky relents. He starts tracing the golden crevices of his vibranium arm with his flesh index finger, avoiding Dr. Raynor’s gaze.
“What about it?”
“They wouldn’t let me see her.” He shrugs, as if the events of that day are common knowledge. Bucky hasn’t talked to anyone about what happened after HYDRA’s bunker was blown to shit. He awoke in a hospital room almost twelve hours after being pulled from the rubble semi-conscious and heavily sedated. He ripped his IV out, broke the metal IV pole off of the hospital bed, and threatened to take down anyone and everyone who stood in the way of him getting to you. Luckily, Sam never relayed that story to Dr. Raynor.
“That’s what’s on your mind today?” Dr. Raynor is suspicious, as always. With a patient like Bucky, there’s always more to the story that he’s building in his head. He leaves out details like the details are what will crucify him in the end. She watches as he shifts in his seat. Bucky leans forward slowly, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of him as he drops his head down.
“She has some memory loss, it’s hard to know how much when she doesn’t want to talk to anyone.” The doctor said quietly, folding his hands together in front of his white coat as he addressed the group.
“What do you know for sure?” Fury asked, needing something concrete. He came here for a solid update and he was damn sure going to get one. You’d been in this hospital for three days since the HYDRA bunker was destroyed and every update that he got over the phone seemed to have less and less information, so Fury drove himself down here this time.
“She remembers the morning of the day she was taken, she mentioned going to the gym that morning and having a shower after. She said her hair was tangled.” Bucky felt his heart thumping hard against his ribcage, threatening to break free at the doctor’s words. You remembered that morning, the morning you touched his scars. “She’s been able to retain her memory of everything that’s happened since she arrived here, but she doesn’t seem to have any recollection of what happened while she was held captive.”
“That might be a good thing.” Sharon pointed out, earning her a various array of looks from the group. “What? We all know what HYDRA is capable of, it might be for the best that she doesn’t remember it all right now.”
“She’s right. While the amnesia could be the result of a minor brain injury or whatever drugs they were pumping into her system down there, it could also be the result of a sort of psychological protection mechanism.” The doctor explained carefully.
“You’re saying she could be blocking out whatever happened to her because she doesn’t want to remember it?” Sam asked, with worry etched into his features. The doctor nodded slowly, before stealing a look at the only silent one in the group, the super soldier who stood with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed.
“I hope that’s not the case, but yes, she may not want to remember.”
Dr. Raynor is snapping her fingers this time, dragging Bucky back out of his head and into the present reality. Thunder rumbles in the distance and the wind shifts so the rain starts coming down sideways, pattering against the wall of windows to Bucky’s left.
“You keep zoning out.”
“They wouldn’t let me see her because they were scared that her seeing me might trigger some traumatic memories.” Bucky says suddenly, turning his head to glance out at the brewing storm. “They wanted me to stay away.”
“And that made you feel—”
“Like shit.” Bucky finishes Dr. Raynor’s sentence quickly.
“Understandably so. Have you seen her since the explosion?” She questions, turning her head to gaze out at the gloomy weather as well. Bucky shakes his head, watching as a bolt of lightning flashes across the sky but doesn’t quite reach the ground.
“No.”
“But isn’t she back in the tower now?” Bucky nods, catching Dr. Raynor’s eye for a brief moment. “So, you’re avoiding her?”
“I’m giving her space.”
“Did she ask for that?”
“It seems like the right thing to do.” Bucky shrugs, picking at the seam of his dark jeans.
“The right thing for who? For her? Or for you?” Dr. Raynor narrows her eyes, slowly beginning to understand what’s going on here as she continues on with her line of questioning.
“I don’t know.” Bucky admits gruffly. He knows Dr. Raynor is figuring his shit out and he can’t stand it. He starts pushing up from the couch, coming to stand in front of it as he scoops up his gloves and begins tugging them on.
“We have another forty-five minutes, James.”
“I have to cut this one short, don’t want to get stuck in a flood on the bike.” He says smoothly, his eyes flitting toward the door as he speaks.
“You won’t be able to avoid her on Saturday.”
“I doubt she’ll be going to a funeral for the man who had a hand in drugging her.”
“He was an undercover agent and he played a pretty big role in keeping her safe in that bunker.”
“I know.” Bucky mutters, acknowledging those facts but refusing to let them paint the man in a better light. He may have been a double-agent for SHIELD, but he still let things go too far with HYDRA. He could’ve contacted Fury to send in the rescue team so much sooner than he did, he could’ve spared you the entire final night in that damn concrete bunker, but he chose not to. He chose to give each of you the injections and leave you together to do exactly what HYDRA wanted. He’s as guilty as everyone else that died in that bunker.
You’ve always loved bad weather. You love the way the sun disappears behind rows of thick, dark clouds, the way you can taste the rain in the air long before it ever begins to fall, and especially the way you can feel the vibration of thunder deep in your bones when a storm is really close. Even now, as a storm is rolling in, your inner turmoil can’t compete with the peace that’s washing over you in waves. You relish in it for a moment, that recently unobtainable peace.
“You know, being out here under all of these big trees in weather like this isn’t really a good look. Someone might think you wanted to be struck by lightning.” Sam’s voice is light and playful as he approaches from behind. You wonder just how long he’s been standing around in the woods watching you, because if he had been walking, you would’ve heard the sounds of rustling leaves and snapping twigs. He raps his fist against the trunk of the tree you’ve chosen to lean against for the time being. The bark is digging into the thin fabric of your shirt and probably adding to the bruises you already have underneath, but you remain still.
“I was going to head back in soon.” You assure him, crossing your arms over your chest and letting your eyes roam over the expansive landing strip out ahead of you. Short of breaking onto the roof of the tower and pissing off a very unwelcoming security team, standing out here at the edge of the woods overlooking the landing strip is the best way to observe an incoming storm. Sam moves to stand beside you, crossing his arms over his chest to mirror your position as he gazes out at the gray clouds rolling in. It’s quiet for a moment as he soaks in the view, coming to understand why you like hiding out here from time to time.
“You don’t have to go to the funeral on Saturday, no one expects you to.” Sam says softly, so softly that you wonder if he actually meant to say it out loud. A tired sigh pushes past your lips and you let your eyes flutter closed, resting your head back against the trunk of the tree.
“I know.”
“You could talk to me, you know? I know you haven’t really talked to anyone, and you probably don’t want to, but if you decide that you do, I can be a vault. You could just dump all of your shit on me and I can lock it away.” It’s silent again after he makes his offer, until a loud crack of thunder sounds not too far off in the distance. You turn your head to face him, noting the concern in his eyes at the imminent storm. You know his offer is genuine. He wouldn’t repeat your words to a single living soul, you’re sure of that. And he’s right, you haven’t talked to anyone. What the hell is there to talk about when you barely remember anything? The bits and pieces that you do remember don’t even make much sense. “We should head back to the tower, I don’t trust that thunder.”
You walk side by side in a comfortable silence for the first thirty seconds, until a light drizzle of rain begins to fall on your shoulders. Sam picks up the pace as soon as he feels it, but you noticeably slow down. He’s just a few steps ahead when you start to remember something, the feeling of dust and debris raining down on you from above. You stop entirely now, squeezing your eyes shut as the rain begins to fall a little harder and your shirt starts to soak through. You hear Sam call your name but it sounds so distant as you fall into a lost memory you want so badly to retrieve.
You didn’t feel the blast, you barely even felt the impact of your body slamming against the concrete wall. All you felt was the loss of Bucky behind you. He was there one minute, and the next he wasn’t. Even as the walls and ceiling came crashing down all around you, on top of you, he was the only thought on your mind. You were trapped with one hand outstretched and the other cradling his dog tags in an open palm. Dragging your thumb over the inscription on the tags was the only thing you could do. Over and over again you traced his name, telling yourself that if you were still alive in the rubble, then so was he. So was he.
You’re suddenly aware of the rain pouring down, soaking into your clothes and shoes more and more with each second that you stand still in the woods. Your right hand is pressed against the front of your shirt, feeling the outline of the dog tags hidden underneath. You don’t know when you started wearing them, but ever since you woke up in the hospital, you didn’t feel right taking them off. Sam stands in front of you with widened eyes and his hands on both of your forearms.
“You remembered something.” He says incredulously, staring into your eyes with a mix of hope and concern. His eyes dart down to where your hand is pressed against your chest. He can just barely see the glint of a silver chain peeking out around the neck of your shirt, but he focuses his gaze back on your face, not wanting you to know that he knows exactly what hangs around your neck. He was the one that found you in the ruins of that decimated concrete bunker, the first one who saw the light of the early morning sun glinting off of the metal tags.
“I remembered something.” You affirm, nodding your head slowly. Your hair is dripping at this point, and a chill spreads throughout your body as the rain begins coming down in sheets. As you and Sam make your way back to the tower, all you can think about is the feeling that came with the memory. Hope. You wanted Bucky to survive, you needed him to survive. Even as you laid there, unsure if you were going to live or die yourself, he was the one you were thinking about.
Bucky isn’t a very big fan of elevators. He stands in front of one now, watching as the floor number ticks down slowly above the doors. Why the hell did Stark design this tower to be so damn tall? Who really needs this many floors? Bucky’s contemplating taking the stairs when he hears a loud clap of thunder followed by one of the glass doors across the foyer sliding open. He sees you before you see him. Your jeans are thoroughly soaked through, looking a couple of shades darker than they probably were before. Your shirt is wet and clinging to your torso, while your hair looks like you just stepped out of a long shower. Bucky takes in the sight like a punch to the gut. It’s the first time he’s seen you since that night, since he saw you ripped away from him and tossed into a concrete wall.
“I’m not going to make it all the way upstairs like this, I’m cold as shit.” Sam’s voice rings out, just as he’s stepping into the glass door and coming to stand beside you. “I have clothes in the gym, I’m going to go change. Do you want to borrow a shirt?” Bucky’s jaw clenches at the thought of you wearing someone else’s shirt. He wants to look up and see how far the elevator is, to see how much longer he has to stand here feeling like his heart is about to give out, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. You shake your head and mutter something that Bucky can’t quite make out, but as Sam turns away and heads in the direction of the gym alone, he assumes you told him no.
Bucky. You see him as soon as you turn to head for the elevator, and your hand instinctively moves up to brush over the dog tags beneath your shirt. His eyes track the movement even from across the foyer.
When he realizes you’re still wearing them, he can’t breathe. Bucky can’t fucking breathe because you’re standing there, alive and well, looking at him as you run a thumb over his name, his name that sits right over your fucking heart. Shit. He tears his eyes away from you reluctantly, stealing a glance at the floor counter above the elevator. It’s almost here. He needs to get the fuck out of here now.
It probably wasn’t your smartest move to rush across the foyer the second the elevator doors opened and Bucky started disappearing from your line of sight. You make it just as the doors are mere inches from closing fully, and you thrust your right arm forward, interrupting the sensors and causing the doors to slide open again. Bucky stands straight ahead with his back against the far wall and his hands gripping the railing on either side of his hips. He doesn’t say a word as you step into the elevator, but he holds your gaze with a steely one of his own. You can tell he wishes you hadn’t hijacked his solo elevator ride, but something in you just wouldn’t let it go.
It isn’t until the doors close and you’re turning your back to Bucky to press the button for the main living floor that you realize just how stupid your move was. You don’t have to look down to know that you’ve just ripped a few stitches from a deep cut right above your left hipbone. You can feel the warmth of the blood contrasting with the cold rainwater that’s already soaked into the fabric of your clothes. You’re quick to place your left palm over the wound, applying pressure while concealing the fresh blood from Bucky’s sight. You take in a few shaky breaths, wondering what the hell Bucky’s thinking right now. Does he remember everything that happened down there? Would he relay it all to you if you asked?
Bucky’s biting down on his bottom lip so hard that he questions for a moment if it’s his own blood he smells. It only takes a second, and one swipe of his tongue across his lips, for him to be sure that it’s not. It’s yours, you’re bleeding. You stand a foot in front of him, with your right hand hanging down at your side but your left hand clutching your hip tightly.
“You’re bleeding.” Bucky says matter-of-factly, like he doesn’t much care if you are or aren’t but he wants to make it known that he’s aware. The fact that he’s speaking at all surprises you, considering he seems to have been going out of his way to avoid you ever since you came home from the hospital a few days ago. You stay still, letting your eyes flit up to the floor counter as you continue applying pressure to your hip with one hand.
“I’m fine.” You respond through gritted teeth, suddenly finding yourself a little peeved that Bucky wants to speak up now. Another glance up at the floor counter tells you that you’re nearly halfway to the main living floor. A low chuckle sounds from behind you, sending a shiver down your spine, as if you weren’t cold enough already. Bucky watches with veiled amusement as your shoulders tense up in front of him. Leave her alone. Fuck. How can he just leave you alone? Bucky’s pushing away from the wall within a second, taking one big step forward and closing most of the gap between you. He leaves maybe an inch between his chest and your back, but you sense him behind you and instinctively roll tilt your head to the side as your eyes flutter closed. As soon as you’ve made that little movement, you’re wondering why he has that effect on you. You don’t remember ever doing that before, but as far back as you can remember, he wasn’t ever really very close to you before either. Bucky wants to reach up and push your hair away from your neck, to expose the skin there just so he can lay eyes on it one more time, but he won’t.
“Does it hurt?” The question is tumbling past his lips in a low whisper before he can stop it. That one question is all it takes for your mind to go careening into another forgotten memory. Bucky notices the hand on your bloody hip faltering, so he covers it with his own and applies pressure just like you were doing before. You both stay still like that for a few seconds, with your breaths coming in quicker and quicker as flashes of the past rush through your head. With your eyes closed, you can just barely see the image of your fingertips tracing over the angry scars of his shoulder in a dark room. You squeeze your eyes shut a little tighter and you see your fingertips moving gently down his spine, pressing softly into his warm skin. When you open your eyes again, it’s gone. You’re staring at the closed metal doors of the elevator, almost oblivious to Bucky’s hand over your own on your hip. The elevator slows to a stop and Bucky lets his hand fall away from yours the second the doors start sliding open. He’s gone before you even have a chance to blink. He’s gone and suddenly you’re remembering everything.
With every up and down motion of the bench presses that Bucky’s doing, he’s slipping further and further into a dark place in his mind. You don’t remember. Just a few hours ago in the elevator, he was sure you were remembering something, but when you didn’t speak up, he knew it was just wishful thinking. Does what hurt? Those were the only three words he wanted to hear from you, and god, he might’ve pressed you against the elevator wall and kissed you right there if you’d said them. But you don’t remember.
When Bucky switches over to abusing a punching bag, his eyes roam around the empty gym. He switched to an evening workout schedule the day you were discharged from the hospital, not wanting to risk running into you in the gym or the showers every morning like he used to. Still, even when he’s alone, he only sees you everywhere he looks. He sees flashes of everything you’ve forgotten. When he closes his eyes and lies in bed at night, he can almost feel you next to him. He only laid with you for one fucking night and yet, the feeling of you next to him is somehow engrained in his skin.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to work through something with how hard you’re hitting that bag.” Fury’s voice is unexpected, but not surprising when it reaches Bucky’s ears from across the gym. Bucky stills for a moment, steadying the bag with his hands before glancing over his shoulder. He spots Fury instantly, leaning against the wall by the door, typing away on a phone held firmly in both hands.
“Is watching me workout becoming a hobby of yours?” Bucky asks, turning around fully to face Fury. Fury raises a brow, briefly looking up from his phone screen to make eye contact.
“Don’t tell me you have performance anxiety. I won’t believe it at all after seeing the video footage from the HYDRA bunker that came across my desk this morning.” Bucky’s frozen in place. Sweat begins to bead across his forehead as his mind races. Fury catches sight of his widened eyes and clenched fists and quickly shoves his phone into the pocket of his jacket, pushing away from the wall to approach Bucky. “Relax.”
“She doesn’t remember any of it.” Bucky’s voice is tense and edged with frustration as he watches Fury move slowly across the gym.
“How would you know? You’ve been avoiding her like she has the plague.” Fury points out, crossing his arms over his chest as he comes to a stop in front of Bucky.
“I know. If she remembered, I would know.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“You think she remembers?” Bucky asks, narrowing his eyes at Fury. They stand only a foot apart now, studying each other carefully.
“I think you should stop sulking around like she’s forgotten who you are entirely.”
“I haven’t been sulking.” Bucky scoffs, turning around to leave. He doesn’t have to stand here and listen to Fury’s cryptic advice.
“You’re singlehandedly the reason it’s been storming almost non-stop since we brought you both home.”
“That’s dramatic.” Bucky calls out as he rounds the corner, exiting the gym and entering the shower room. Fury mumbles something in response, but Bucky doesn’t strain his ears hard enough to pick it up. Bucky spends far too much time in a steamy shower, gnawing on the inside of his cheek and contemplating ripping the tiles from the shower wall as he thinks about the fact that Fury saw the video footage of everything that happened in the bunker. The fact that Fury saw you at your most vulnerable, you with your legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, only covered by a thin sheet, actually has Bucky wanting to pluck out the one good eye that the man has left. He doesn’t even want to think about what he saw if he watched the footage from the second time you fucked, when the sheet was long forgotten and neither of you gave a shit. Bucky’s possessiveness is flaring as he pulls his flesh hand back, takes a deep breath, and then thrusts is hard against the tiled shower wall. The crack that’s left matches the one he feels deep in his own chest.
You’re pissed. You’re tired of everyone tiptoeing around you. You’re tired of Bucky doing everything he possibly can to stay the hell away from you. You’re also really fucking tired of your trainer taking it easy on you. You circle around the man on the mat, stealing a glance at the digital clock on the wall across the gym. You’ve been sparring for an hour now and the man hasn’t landed one hit on you. It has nothing to do with your skill, which is what has you so angry right now. He hasn’t landed a hit on you because he’s barely tried to, and the poor attempts he’s made wouldn’t have even tickled if they’d made contact.
“Stop going easy on me.” You snap, shooting daggers at the man. He shakes his head.
“I’m not.”
“I feel like I’m fighting a five-year-old.” You retort, rolling your eyes at his denial. Does he even realize he’s pulling all of his punches and practically only defending himself? Normally, your trainer is always on the offensive, dishing out attacks for you to combat. You used to never leave a session with him without at least a few new bruises and a plethora of sore muscles.
“Listen, we’ve been going at this for an hour. You have to be tired, you’ve barely even recovered from everything. Let’s call it a day.” There it is. He’s taking it easy on you because he fears you haven’t recovered. Anger bubbles up inside you as you tug your hair out of its ponytail and stalk away from the ring.
“Yeah, let’s call it. I don’t think I need your services anymore.” You agree, nearing the door to the shower room.
“You’re really going to take yourself off of my schedule because I care about you too much to compromise your recovery?” He asks incredulously, holding his arms out at his sides in a sort of what-the-fuck gesture. You shrug your shoulders as you round the corner, already tugging your shirt over your head.
“Let me know when you actually want to try kicking my ass, until then, I’m off your schedule.” You respond flatly. One of the good things about Bucky avoiding you is that he’s stopped using the gym in the mornings, which means you can strip in the open and spend as much time as you fucking please in the shower, without worrying about anyone judging you for wasting water. As the hot water splashes across your skin, steaming up the air around you and soothing your aching muscles, you find yourself diving right back into the newfound memory you’ve been dissecting for the last two days. Your fingers trace the chain around your neck lightly, following it over your collarbone and down to the metal plates that hang between your breasts. You remember telling Bucky to give them to you. You remember the way he kissed you before placing them around your neck. God, you remember the way it felt when he pushed his tongue past your lips and licked into your mouth like you were a fucking dessert. You don’t really understand how you forgot a kiss like that in the first place, how you forgot a moment like that. And everything that came after? That’s why you’ve been so damn moody for the last two days. The memory of Bucky fucking you not once, but twice, came back in full force that day in the elevator. You couldn’t even respond to his little ‘does it hurt?’ How could you respond when you went from thinking about your fingertips tracing his spine to thinking about how good it felt to sit on his cock? And to think that that’s what happened before he started avoiding you. How. Fucking. Dare. He.
You’ve barely even had time to deal with the trauma of being kidnapped and held hostage because you’ve been dealing with the fact that you had sex with Bucky Barnes and now you can barely even get him to look at you. In this moment, as you run your fingers through your hair and watch the suds wash down the drain at your feet, you think you might actually hate him.
There are a lot of reasons that you decided against going to the funeral for the tall, thin man with brown eyes. The first reason being that he’s associated with some very unpleasant memories. Anytime his face pops up in your mind, you can almost feel the pain caused by that injection he gave you not once, but twice. He gave it to you without hesitation, and with little warning as to what you’d experience once it entered your bloodstream. For that, you resent him. Knowing that the double agent would likely have family and friends there, even SHIELD coworkers who adored him, really solidified your decision not to go. You’d stick out like a sore thumb being the only one who wasn’t torn up over his passing.
So, you stand in the ring with your new sparring coach. He’s a bulky, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and unexpectedly kind eyes. He’s simultaneously the kind of man women would flock to in a busy bar on a Friday night and the kind of man women would be terrified of if they saw him in a parking garage any time after dark. Hopefully, he’s also the kind of man who won’t think twice about throwing you around the ring.
You move in tandem for a while, with him taking one step forward and you taking one step back. When you throw a right hook, he ducks under it with ease. He’s so quick on his feet that you barely manage to land more than three hits on him in the first twenty minutes. But annoyance is blooming in your chest with each passing second, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s faster than you. It has everything to do with the fact that he hasn’t even tried to throw a punch.
Bucky can hear the commotion in the gym as soon as he steps off the elevator and he pauses right outside the gym door, straining his ears in an attempt to figure out who’s taking up his new evening slot. Everyone went to the funeral as far as he knows, including you. He hears the sound of feet dancing around the sparring mat, two sets of heavy breathing, and then a single sound that he recognizes above any other. A frustrated moan reaches his ears, and in an instant, he knows who it belongs to. He’s shoving the gym door open and stepping in without thinking, his eyes aiming straight for the sparring ring.
“You let me do that.” You complain, letting go of the man’s arms but continuing to hover over him as you straddle his lower half. The man cocks a brow at you, letting a playful smirk take over his sharp features.
“I wanted to get a feel for your strength.” He responds coolly, patting your left thigh with the palm of his hand. You roll off of him and tighten your ponytail as he rises to his feet once more. Bucky’s watching the moment unfold as he heads for the punching bags in the opposite corner of the room. He doesn’t normally start a workout with a punching bag, but with how tight he’s clenching his fists right now, he might as well. You haven’t caught sight of him yet, as you stand with your back to the rest of the gym.
“Let me get a feel for yours, stop holding back.” You bite back. When you turn around to face the man in the sparring ring once more, you catch sight of the lights glinting off of black and gold in the corner of the gym. Bucky. He stands quietly in front of a punching bag, wrapping his flesh hand in a nude-colored wrap as he prepares for his own workout. He meets your gaze just for a second, for one single fleeting second, before he throws a hard punch into the bag, setting it shaking on its hook.
“I don’t like to dive in full force at the first session with a new client. We can build up to more intense sessions.” The trainer says, drawing your attention away from the brooding super soldier in the corner. You watch as the man runs his fingers through his dark hair and then squares up, expecting you to do the same. You stand still, biting down on your bottom lip as you contemplate his words.
“So, what are we doing here then? You’re just going to keep letting me take you down and I’m supposed to feel like I had a good workout?” You can’t hide the frustration in your tone, it’s beyond evident. Even Bucky can detect it from across the gym as he throws punch after punch at the bag in front of him. He alternates between watching the bag shimmy on its hook and stealing glances in your direction. The man you’re with looks nothing like the trainer he’s used to seeing you with in the mornings. He heard that you fired the guy, but he didn’t really know that it was true until now.
“Yeah, and then in our next session I’ll make things a little harder for you.” The trainer answers, circling you in the ring. You stand still, half hoping he’ll swipe your legs right out from under you if you refuse to engage. But of course, he doesn’t. He moves to stand in front of you and grabs both of your wrists, his eyes temporarily zeroing in on the fading bruises you have there, before he places them out in front of you in a defensive position and let’s go. “You’re in your head too much.” It takes you less than two seconds to have the man laid out flat on his back again, with the wind knocked out of his chest and his cheeks flushing pink.
“Maybe we should give it a rest, and you can come back to kick my ass tomorrow.” You say as you lean over the man and offer him your hand. He grins up at you and pushes your hand away, rolling onto his side before moving to his feet with ease.
“Why do I get the feeling you aren’t actually going to have me come back tomorrow?” The trainer asks lightheartedly, as he reaches for his water bottle near the edge of the mat. You shrug as you lift the hem of your shirt to dab a bit of sweat from your forehead. Bucky catches sight of the bruises decorating your ribcage and the bandage carefully placed over your left hip, just barely peeking out of the waistband of your leggings. His jaw ticks as he lands an overpowered punch against the bag and hears the sound of the chain snapping above. The bag flies across the room, crashing against the wall before crumpling to the floor. For a split second, Bucky’s right back in that bunker, watching your body fly across the room and come to a screeching halt against a concrete wall. You can tell by the way his muscles tense and his gaze never strays from the bag that he’s having a flashback of some sort. Your trainer is already packing up his bag and stepping out of the ring when Bucky snaps his head back in your direction.
“If you promise you won’t take it easy on me, I might call.” You assure him, but your eyes stay fixed on Bucky, who looks like he’d happily send you careening into the wall right beside the punching bag if you keep staring at him. The trainer follows your line of sight, noting Bucky’s presence before turning back to you one last time.
“I can’t promise that.”
Just like that, the man is gone and you’re sorely disappointed to lose yet another trainer who thinks you’re too fragile to handle even one little hit. You’re tugging your hair out of its ponytail and running your hands through your messy hair as Bucky’s walking across the gym to retrieve the busted punching bag that he sent airborne just a moment ago. You can feel his eyes on your back as you bend over and start scooping up your water bottle and phone from the edge of the ring.
“It wouldn’t kill you to take it easy, you’re still covered in bruises.” Bucky’s voice is almost unfamiliar to your ears after the way he’s been avoiding you lately. You pause, your hand hovering just over your phone as his words register in your mind. You straighten up and look over to see Bucky dragging that damn busted bag back to the far corner of the gym, not even sparing you a passing glance.
“I didn’t ask for your advice, and I sure as hell don’t need it.”
“You don’t know what you need. You’re out here begging a guy nearly twice your size to lay hands on you just to convince yourself that you’re fine.” Bucky spits back, dropping the bag at his feet and finally turning around to face you. His eyes are alight with fire, and the intensity of his stare burns against your face. You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest.
“I am fine.” You huff, sounding every bit as confident as you’d hoped you would. Bucky hates that you think you can lie to his face and he’ll believe every word. That’s the second time you’ve tried telling him you’re fine, the second time you’ve lied to him. He steps over the punching bag at his feet and takes a few steps closer to the sparring ring.
“Are you? Because the last time I saw you, you tore your stitches just trying to catch the elevator.” He says coldly, letting his eyes dart down toward your left hip. You roll your eyes, and step forward until you’re leaning over the edge of the sparring ring.
“And just like I said then, I’m fine.” You smile at him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. It isn’t genuine at all. He can see something else written all over your face.
“People who are fine don’t beg to be tossed around the sparring ring.” He points out, taking another step closer to the ring. You tilt your head to the side and bite down lightly on your bottom lip. Bucky’s eyes follow every move you make closely. Biting your lip like that almost feels like a personal attack to him.
“I’m sick of everyone tiptoeing around me like I’ll shatter if I take so much as a deep breath. I can take a few punches, Bucky.” You slip between the ropes around the edge of the ring and carefully lower yourself to the gym floor.
“I’m sure you can, but that doesn’t mean you need to.” His response is reasonable and it frustrates you further. You’re trying to egg him on and he can see it clearly. It’s why he gives you one last up and down look before shaking his head and turning on his heel. He’s tugging the wrap off of his flesh hand and nearing the door when you decide to come back with a response.
“So you can encourage me to take your cock but not a few punches from a trainer?”
He should keep walking. He should be halfway to the elevator right now, leaving you alone in the gym. He should be ignoring your obvious attempt to get him to engage with you, but his entire musculoskeletal system decided to disconnect from his nervous system the moment you said what you just said. You remember. You remember him encouraging you to take his cock. You remember him saying just keep taking my cock as he reached dangerous depths inside you and then praised you immediately after. Heat starts to pool low in your stomach as you realize what you’ve done, as you realize that he knows now. He knows that you remember. Bucky’s demeanor is entirely different when he turns to face you now, the fire behind his eyes burning so bright that you worry the gym might go up in smoke. His next words send a shiver down your spine and a chill coasting over the surface of your skin.
“Get on the mat.”
“Tell me what you remember.” Bucky orders, watching you from across the ring as your chest heaves and sweat drips down your temples. You’re hunched over with your hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath. He narrows his eyes at you as you shoot him a menacing glare. “Why are you looking at me like that? Did you want me to go easy on you?”
“You’re fighting dirty.” You accuse, glancing down at your forearms and noting the reddening skin there. He handled you with such a harsh grip that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow morning. Bucky smirks before crossing the ring in two long strides and tangling a hand in the hair at the back of your head. He tugs upward, forcing you to stand up straight, before tightening his grip and using it to tilt your head to the side.
“Tell me what you remember.” He repeats, letting his eyes settle on the expanse of your neck. Do you remember him kissing, licking, and sucking the skin there? Do you remember the feel of his stubble scratching at it as he worked his mouth over your pulse? The quickening of your breaths as he holds you this way tell him that you do, you fucking remember.
“Why does it matter what I remember?” You ask stubbornly, not yet attempting to break free from his grasp. Bucky lets his hand fall from your hair before shoving your back a little too hard, sending you stumbling into the center of the ring. He circles you like you’re some kind of prey and that only serves to stoke the fire in the pit of your stomach. How is he going to go from avoiding and practically ignoring you for days, to demanding shit from you now?
“Because I want to talk about it.” He sweeps a leg out suddenly, aiming for the backs of your knees but you sidestep and he narrowly misses. You mimic his movements, moving in a slow circle around the ring as you face off.
“You’ve been hiding ever since I was discharged from the hospital, but now you want to talk?” You throw a poorly executed punch that doesn’t even come close to making contact with Bucky’s solid body. He chuckles to himself and starts to formulate a plan in his head. He charges forward and grabs your right wrist before turning you around and hiking it up your back, pulling you against his chest with little to no effort. His scent envelopes you as he holds you there, with his breath tickling your neck and his knee snaking between your thighs.
“Do you remember the first night they gave you that injection? The first night they let me see you?” He asks in a near-whisper, letting his lips graze against the shell of your ear. Your eyes flutter closed as you try to ignore his questions and focus on getting out of his hold. He tugs your twisted arm higher up your back and you feel the threat of injury building in the muscles of your shoulder. “Do you remember what I did for you?” As if he can sense how close your shoulder is to snapping, Bucky drops your arm in an instant, but he isn’t done with you. He sweeps your legs out from under you before you have a chance to recover. You go tumbling backward, but his fingers snag on the fabric of the front of your shirt and he catches you by it, before lowering you the last couple of inches to the mat. You lie on your back, eyeing his vibranium arm as he circles you on the floor. You remember what he did for you. You remember it in flashes, but still, you remember it.
“I remember.” You admit, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth and biting down on it. Bucky scowls down at you before averting his gaze. You don’t miss the way he adjusts the front of his sweats, or the way he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before looking down at you again. When he’s composed himself, he steps closer and offers you a hand. You look at him warily, but place your hand in his. He should’ve seen it coming, but you’re yanking him down on top of you the moment your palms collide and he doesn’t have time to stop you. He lands with one leg between your parted knees and his vibranium hand on the mat beside your head, holding up some of his weight. With your faces only inches apart, neither of you moves at first. Bucky’s studying you closely, trying hard as hell to read the look in your eyes, but he can’t. You skate your right hand over his shoulder, moving down to his vibranium bicep until feel the edge of his shirt sleeve. Hooking your thumb in it, you meet Bucky’s intense stare with a playful one of your own, looking up at him through your lashes. You slide that sleeve up further and further until your fingertips are brushing over his scars. “Does it hurt?” You whisper, tilting your chin up as the question leaves your lips. He’s so close that you could barely move and still, you’d be kissing him. You feel him shudder against your touch before quickly shrugging your hand away.
“Does what hurt?” He asks, moving his hands down to grip your waist before rolling you over. You end up straddling his lower half, but only for a second before he’s shoving you off and scrambling to his feet. As he tangles a hand in your hair again, you’re starting to wonder if he has some kind of kink for it. You’re getting tired of him playing dirty. You’re getting tired of playing this little game at all, honestly. Why is it so important to him that you remember every detail of what happened in that damn bunker?
Bucky brings you up to your feet by the hold he has on your hair, just like he did earlier, but this time, he lets that hand loosen its grip and then glide down the side of your neck before coming to rest right around your throat.
“You look so fucking pretty like this.” He says lowly. The mix of his suggestive tone and burning gaze has that heat in your stomach moving lower and lower until it’s pooling between your legs. “With my hand and my name around your neck.” He whispers the last part, leaning in close to your ear as he adds a little pressure to your throat. You can’t let him win this way, you can’t let him have the last word. So, you raise your right hand to his shoulder and with a few calculated movements of your wrist, his vibranium arm clicks and falls to the floor with a solid thud.
Bucky’s stunned as he lets go of your throat and watches you slip through the ropes around the perimeter of the sparring ring. His eyes dart down to the black and gold arm at his feet and then back over to you as you head for the door, looking so damn content with yourself. He leans down and retrieves the arm, quickly positioning it for reattachment.
“Can’t finish the job without the vibranium arm, can you?” You ask smugly, daring to steal one last look at him over your shoulder as you near the exit. You watch as he reattaches the arm and then rotates it fully in a circle around its socket. Something about the entire process is undeniably hot.
“I finished the job without it the first night that HYDRA gave you the injection, twice.”
You’re frozen in place as the memory floods in again. It’s not in bits and pieces this time, it’s not in flashes. You have a full body experience as you envision your head falling back against Bucky’s shoulder and his flesh fingers dipping between your legs. Two orgasms. He gave you two orgasms without ever lifting a vibranium finger.
Bucky sees the shift in your demeanor. He can tell you’re lost in the memory when you don’t even track him as he tugs off his shirt and drops it on the mat before climbing through the ropes and making his way over to you, closing the distance quickly. By the time you’re coming back to reality, his flesh hand is sliding against the curve of your jaw while his vibranium arm is wrapping around your waist, tugging you into him. He kisses you desperately, and you feel the same fireworks you felt the first time he did it in that damn bunker.
When you kiss him back, he can’t fucking control himself. He’s backing you into the closed door of the gym and tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth before slipping his tongue into your mouth and tasting you. Your lungs are burning for air by the time you realize what the hell you’re doing, and you push your palms flat against his bare chest. He sucks in a deep breath when you part, but it’s not enough, oxygen isn’t enough. You’re the only thing that makes him feel like he’s alive and he fucking needs you. If he could just breathe you in, he’d already be doing it.
“I’ve wanted to knock on your door every single night since you’ve been back here, just to ask if I can lay next to you for even a minute.” Bucky whispers against your lips, gently tracing the outline of your mouth with his thumb as he peers into your eyes. You look up at him through your lashes as you take in the confession.
“Why?” You ask, matching the quietness of his tone.
“Because I got a taste of what it feels like and I haven’t been able to sleep since.”
“That’s all you want?” You pry, narrowing your eyes at him and letting your hands wander up to the sides of his ribcage. Something about being so close to him feels right, and yet, you hear alarm bells ringing in your head. You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be confusing yourself like this. What happened in the bunker, under the influence of whatever was being pumped into your system, is clouding your judgement. You start to pull away from Bucky, but he refuses to drop the arm he has hooked around your back or the hand on the side of your face.
“I want so much more than that.” He answers thoughtfully as his eyes dart down to your lips. “But that…I could live off of the feeling I get when I lay next to you for the rest of my life.”
“Bucky, don’t say shit like that.” You tense up, grabbing both of his arms in your hands and pushing him away from you cautiously. He lets it happen, but he sure as hell isn’t planning on letting you walk out that door. Taking one step back, he notes that you haven’t actually made a move to leave yet, you’re just making sure he stays at arm’s length.
“You’ll moan my name when I talk dirty to you but you can’t stand when I say something real?”
“Fuck you. That’s not even real that’s just…you just think it’s real because we were under the influence of such a powerful drug. It’s clouding your memory, making you think we had some kind of real connection when we didn’t.”
“I haven’t been able to sleep since the last night I laid in bed with you. That’s real.”
“Okay, but you’ve had issues with insomnia for forever. It makes sense that those issues would flare up after what we went through down there.” You point out, trying to be rational.
“I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since the moment I woke up in that damn hospital. That’s real.” He’s going to keep listing things out to counter your argument until one of you runs out of responses. He isn’t going to let you diminish the connection that you had long before HYDRA stepped into the picture. It was real, it’s still real, and he’s clinging to it like it’s a lifeline.
“You also put all of your energy into avoiding me for the past week. That’s real too, Bucky.” You cross your arms over your chest and lean back against the door, tempted to just throw it open and make a run for your room to get out of this conversation.
“Because I felt guilty.” He finally admits. He breaks eye contact for a moment, turning to the side and reaching up with his flesh hand to massage his temples with his thumb and middle finger. You take the opportunity to run your eyes down his form, taking in his toned torso and flesh arm as he collects himself.
“We talked about that already.” You say softly, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “And then…” Bucky looks over at you, waiting for the end of your sentence to come. “And then you let me take advantage of you.” You remind him, not that he needs reminding. His breath hitches in his throat just at the mere fact that you’re the one bringing the memory up. You feel powerful for a fleeting second, so fucking powerful for having a visible effect on a man like Bucky.
“I don’t feel guilty about that part of it anymore, you remedied that.” He assures you, avoiding your gaze. He goes back to massaging his temples like he has a headache and you let your arms fall away from your chest.
“What do you feel guilty about then?” Bucky shakes his head before the question has fully left your mouth, and you’re starting to sense that you might not get an answer. “Bucky, please.” Fuck. He actually groans at the small taste of your begging, and that only gives him another reason to feel guilty. He takes a few abrupt steps away from you and glances at the clock, noting how much time has passed since everyone left for the funeral. People should be getting back to the tower soon.
“HYDRA chose you because of your connection to me.” He’s expecting you to be upset, to blame him forever maybe. How dare he put you in harm’s way? How dare he be the reason that HYDRA snatched you off of the street that night? It’s why your soft chuckle has him whipping his head around to see if it’s really coming from you. That soft chuckle turns into an all-out laugh when you make eye contact with him, and confusion begins spreading across his features.
“What the hell did you think I thought? That they chose me because I’m so special and fertile?” You ask, your laugh breaking through every other word. “Bucky, no shit they chose me because I’m connected to you. They knew you wouldn’t have cooperated with just any woman they locked you in a room with.” He’s dumbfounded as he stares at you, truly not understanding how you’re so calm about this.
“You should be pissed at me.” He says lowly, turning back toward the sparring ring and heading back for his shirt.
“I’m pissed at you for avoiding me for days, and pissed that you were one of the ones acting like I was a fragile piece of fine China after I got back here. I’m not pissed at you for HYDRA’s bullshit.”
Bucky continues moving across the gym, and you watch with bated breath as he scoops up his shirt and pulls it over his head. He reaches for your water bottle and phone at the edge of the mats and takes one item in each hand before heading back in your direction, keeping his eyes down.
“Nothing was your fault, Bucky.” You say softly, as he hands you your things. The genuine feeling in your words, in your tone, has Bucky’s heart clenching in his chest. He knows you mean it, that you believe it, but he can’t seem to find it within himself to agree with the statement. When he finally looks into your eyes, you can tell he’s waiting for you to move away from the door so he can leave. “You were the only reason I survived down there. That’s real.”
You can tell your words have struck some kind of nerve inside of him, but you step aside anyway, letting him leave through the gym door without so much as letting out a sigh in response to you. How are you the one who feels like shit after that conversation? After he handed you your ass on the mats and then kissed you out of the fucking blue? Oh, right. You feel like shit because he stood in front of you begging you to see how real your connection is, while you attributed it all to the toxin that HYDRA pumped into you. The man hasn’t been able to sleep since he got a taste of sleeping next to you. When he ruined you for any other man beneath a thin white sheet and the weight of his body, you were inadvertently ruining him for everything. You never once stopped to think about the power you hold over Bucky Barnes, until right now. And now, you feel like shit.
He needs your scent gone. As Bucky stands in the shower in his private bathroom, scrubbing shampoo so deeply into his scalp that even his brain will emanate a scent of cleanliness, all he can think about is the way his skin smells like you. He got way too fucking close to you in the gym. Not only did he get too close, but he went as far as kissing you. What a fucking ass. He’s beating himself up over it as he rinses the last of the shampoo out of his hair and moves on to washing his body.
You just think it’s real because we were under the influence of such a powerful drug. Your words swirl around in his head, making his temples ache and his stomach churn. It’s not real to you at all. It’s clouding your memory, making you think we had some kind of real connection when we didn’t. Fuck. Bucky slams his flesh hand against the shower wall just like he did in the gym showers not long ago, but this time, it doesn’t crack. What the hell was he thinking talking to you like that? What did he expect to accomplish? Did he really think you’d fall into his arms and tell him everything was real and that you wanted him long before HYDRA ever walked into your life and stole you away? Fucking idiot. He cuts the water off abruptly, snatching his towel from where it hangs over the glass shower door. Maybe next time, he’ll punch that. It’d be satisfying to see the thousands of pieces of glass rain down onto the floor.
You’re perched on the foot of the bed, replaying the same words in your own head. You were harsh and you regret it. Though you might’ve convinced yourself that your words ring true, that the HYDRA experiment is clouding both yours and Bucky’s judgement and making you feel a connection where there isn’t one, you didn’t have to rain on his parade in such a villainous way. You glance around the dimly lit room, noting the way it doesn’t look all that much different from yours, aside from the distinct lack of décor and personal items. Bucky’s room is quite monotone and depressing, honestly. Maybe he’d sleep better if he had a soft throw blanket or a white noise machine. When the bathroom door handle starts to turn just a few feet to your right, you stiffen but remain seated on the foot of Bucky’s bed, refusing to chicken out now.
Bucky’s eyes land on your immediately, and that burning feeling takes up residence in his lungs once more. It’s that undeniable feeling that oxygen doesn’t do him a damn bit of good when you’re around. He stops short in the bathroom doorway, holding onto the white towel that’s wrapped loosely around his waist. It dips low enough to show off his v-line and you find it embarrassingly difficult to keep your gaze focused on his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow.
“Your room is across the hall.” Bucky says flatly, cocking his head in the direction of the door to the hall. You nod slowly, taking his soft rejection and choosing to ignore it for now.
“You kept telling me what was real.” You start nervously. Bucky narrows his eyes further and you have to look away from him. His hard gaze is enough to make anyone shake in their damn boots, and you’re not even wearing any. You sit on the foot of his bed in a pair of gray sweats and an oversized t-shirt, avoiding making eye contact, and feeling a bit like a fish out of water. But you’re not going to wimp out, not after busting in here like crazy person and making yourself at home while he was showering. “You kept telling me what was real, and I wasn’t listening.”
“Not listening is kind of one of your things.” Bucky’s tone is still flat and emotionless, though a hint of humor seems to peek through as he taunts you. You nod again, swallowing hard as he crosses his arms over his chest, letting go of the towel. The poor towel is barely hanging onto his hips, and you wonder if Bucky’s even aware that it might slip off at any given moment.
“You’re right.” You admit, stealing another look at his face. His expression is unreadable. “Which is why I thought I’d ask you to show me something real, instead of telling me something real.” Bucky stops breathing altogether as the words fall from your lips.
“What?” He asks, seeking clarification or repetition, he isn’t even sure which. He feels the towel threatening to slip down past his hips, so he grabs the corner of it in his flesh quickly, keeping it in place as he stares you down. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and you shift on the bed, turning to face him head-on.
“Show me something real. Show me that the connection we felt down there wasn’t just adrenaline and chemicals and HYDRA bullshit.” You can feel your cheeks heating up as you lay out the request in front of him. When he stays still in the doorframe, staring at you like you have two heads, you try one last thing to get him to understand you. You grasp the hem of your shirt in both hands and tug it over your head slowly, tossing the piece of fabric onto his bedroom floor. His eyes follow it like he’s afraid it might start a fucking wildfire the second it hits the carpet. But when he looks back at you? When he sees you sitting on the foot of his bed, in a little black bralette that perfectly cups your breasts with his dog tags hanging down the middle of your chest, the wildfire starts inside of him. “Show me something real, Bucky.” You plead, taking one last deep breath before deciding to shut up. The ball is in his court now, and whatever he decides to say or do is completely out of your control.
Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky’s gaze softens and his eyes flit up to meet yours in what feels like a warm embrace. He takes slow steps toward the bed, never breaking eye contact. When he reaches the foot of the bed, he reaches out with his flesh hand and you lean your cheek against his palm almost instinctively. Even then, you feel it. Connection. It’s like electricity sparking between his skin and yours as he glides his hand down to feel the curve of your jaw. Your eyes are closing at the gentle touch, at the light caress of his thumb over your cheekbone.
“Do you feel that?” His voice is husky as the question swirls around the space between you. He leans down until his lips are brushing against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. “Just touching you like this is enough to help me sleep at night.”
“Bucky.” You breathe his name out as you relax into his touch, and then he’s kissing you. He’s pressing his lips against yours softly at first, pulling back after two seconds to see how you’ll react, but you’re reaching up and grasping his face in both of your hands. You pull him back in immediately, kissing him like you really believe it’s real. It’s real. He moves over you on the bed, laying you down and pushing his tongue into your mouth while keeping his vibranium hand firmly on his towel. You feel the same fireworks from that first kiss in the bunker, igniting in the pit of your stomach and exploding outward, making your skin tingle and your cheeks flush pink.
“Kissing you like this is enough to make me forget who I used to be.” He whispers against your lips, pressing his forehead against yours before lowering his body down more. You feel his weight settling over you and all you can hear in your head is a repetitive chorus of your own voice saying it’s real. “What more do you need to see that it’s real?”
Bucky drags his thumb along your bottom lip, tugging it down as he looks into your eyes and awaits an answer. Your hands rest lightly on the bare skin of his sides, but as you contemplate his question, your right hand starts shifting. You slide it further down his side until you feel the fabric of his towel near his hip, then you follow the seam around his front until you get to where his vibranium hand is fisting the corner of it.
“I need you.”
Sex with Bucky Barnes is nothing like it was at the hands of HYDRA. With your clothes and his towel long forgotten on his bedroom floor, there’s nothing between the two of you as he shows you just how real your connection is. As he pushes his length into you, pressing his forehead against yours and staring into your widened eyes, you can’t deny it. When he drags his cock right back out at a torturously slow pace, you’ve never quite felt anything like this. It isn’t just the physical aspect of what he’s doing to you, it’s the intimate emotional part as well. He fucks you like…like he loves you. He fucks you like this was all inevitable, whether HYDRA chose you or not, it was always going to end up being you and him.
Bucky’s committing every second of this time with you to memory. He’s storing it away, holding onto it so he’ll never forget. Bucky never wants to forget the moment that he watched you fall in love with him, right in front of his damn eyes.
— warnings: smut, titty sucking, making out, cursing, dry humping, english isn't my first language.
chris didn't necessarily understand what made you so needy out of sudden, but he was not complaining.
your fingers are digging into his shoulders, while you continue grinding down against the bulge in his sweatpants. the last ten minutes had been like heaven— what started as an innocent make out session, ended with you dry humping your boyfriend.
chris is kissing you passionately, one hand moving to tangle in your hair while the other one plays with your breast, your shirt thrown to the floor a few minutes ago, leaving your chest bare.
your breath hitches as chris pulls away from the kiss, and instead wraps his lips around your hardening nipple, his hands now on your hips. his erection presses against your clothed pussy, and you get lost in the feeling. the way your clit brushes perfectly against his tip causes you to moan, and tilt your head back in utter bliss.
he continues sucking gently on your nipple, eyes locked on the pleasure written all over your face, his hands moving to grab your ass, and pull you down harder onto his cock. he can feel how wet you are even through your clothes, and it's driving him insane.
"feels good, baby?" you look down at him as he speaks, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple. "using me like this?"
you nod immediately, eyebrows knitted together as the pleasure keeps building up in your lower belly. "s-so good..."
chris smirks, his hands tightening on your ass. he kisses his way over to the other breast, giving it the same treatment as he murmurs against your skin. "good girl... gettin' y'self off on my lap..."
his tongue moving around your nipple makes a shiver go straight to your core, a whimper falling from your lips. each time you grind on him, you're making these small, breathy noises that he loves.
your arms wrap around his shoulders, while pressing yourself down harder against him, the wetness starts leaking through your shorts onto his lap. a small growl leaves him at the realization of you dripping only for him.
he lifts his head, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, his hips twitching upward uncontrollably. it's all sloppy and heated, your tongues dancing together as you continue rolling your hips against his clothed dick.
"gonna come?" he pulls back to look at you, the way your eyes are shut, your tits bouncing slightly with each movement, face all flushed and lips swollen from kisses. you looked so sexy, dry humping him like your life depended on it, and it only makes his cock twitch in his sweatpants. "gonna make a fuckin' mess on my lap from grindin' all over me like a little slut?"
"chris— mgh, fuck—" you let out a choked moan, his fingers digging into your hips, guiding your movements.
he's matching your pace perfectly, bucking his hips up each time you grind down, his orgasm building as he watches you with his bottom lip between his teeth.
at some point you open your eyes to look at him— at how hot he looked. you were holding it in almost the entire day, while you sat on the couch and watched him and his brothers recording a new youtube video in their kitchen earlier. you had to restrain yourself from ruining it and dragging chris into his bedroom. you didn't know why his outfit had such an effect on you, but after seeing him in that red tank top and backwards hat, with that goddamn bracelet on his wrist, you completely lost your mind. you couldn't wait to be alone with him— and finally, nick and matt left the house, leaving you two alone, and you just had to release the tension.
"holy shit—" another moan leaving your lips after noticing the way he looks at you. "so...close, chris–"
this nearly pushes him over the edge as well, his grip tightens as he watches you chase your orgasm, every roll of your hips perfectly grinding against his aching cock. when you press down harder, he lets out a groan that's almost a plea.
you were a desperate mess, noticing the growing wet stain on his sweatpants, and it only makes you clench around nothing, the pressure becoming too much.
"c'mon, pretty," he mutters against your mouth, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. "wanna see you cum just from rubbin' that needy pussy on me... you gonna do this f'me? hm?"
"oh— jesus..." his words send a shudder through you, your nails digging into his shoulders harder as you grind down, your clit rubbing against his cock just perfectly to make your orgasm crush over you, leaving you trembling on top of him. a final gasp leaves your mouth, your eyes rolling back as chris guides you when your hips stutter. your slick staining not only on your shorts, but on his sweatpants as well.
"thereee you go... so fuckin' hot, baby—" he groans loudly, watching you come undone on him, your wet heat pressing against his cock through the clothes. his eyes half-lidded as he takes in the sight of you like this, his favorite, the way your chest rises and falls rapidly. the friction and the sounds leaving your lips are enough to push him completely over the edge, in the last moment pulling down his sweatpants, just enough to free his leaking with pre-cum dick and wrap his hand around it.
you look down as he jerks off, his head tilting back against the couch, almost knocking his hat off his head. warm drops of cum bursts from his tip all over his hand and thighs, a moan of your name falling from his lips.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29
Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo
Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.
The sun was dipping low, orange and pink hues painted the sky as I stared out the window. The day had been pretty chill now that Emily was gone, I had some space and could just hang out with Chris and Nick. But now, things were about to get a whole lot more interesting. Nate, our friend from Boston, was visiting for the next week or so and had just arrived at our house. It felt like old times again, having the whole gang together.
“Yo, Matt!” Nate’s voice rang out from the living room. “You ready to lose tonight?”
I smirked, walking in to find him and Chris sprawled out on the couch. “Lose? You mean, are you ready to lose? I’ve been working on my swing, man.”
Nate laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that. My game’s been on point lately.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll put 100 bucks on it.” I said, rolling my eyes and grabbing my phone off the counter. “Where’s Nick?”
“He’s in his room” Chris said. “Probably trying to pick out an outfit like it’s some kind of fashion show.”
I chuckled. “Well, he better hurry up. We’re supposed to leave in like ten minutes.”
As if on cue, Nick walked down the stairs into the room, looking way too casual for someone who’d spent an extra ten minutes getting ready.
“Speaking of the devil” I said, crossing my arms with a grin, “You finally done making yourself pretty?”
Nick laughed it off. “I was just making sure my plus one could come.”
“Plus one?” I raised an eyebrow, not sure what he meant.
“Yeah?” Nick said, glancing around the room at all of us. “I invited Y/n to come with us.”
I felt my grin fade a bit, replaced by surprise. I hadn’t seen that coming. Not that I had a problem with Y/n coming along, but with everything that had gone down with Emily.. things were complicated, especially after last time.
I shot Nick a look, trying to figure out what he was thinking. “You sure that’s a good idea? I mean, Emily wasn’t exactly happy about us hanging out.”
Nick shrugged, looking calm and collected. “If I remember correctly, she said she didn’t want you two hanging out alone. We’re all going, right? It’s not like it’s just you and Y/n. There’ll be six of us total.”
I thought about that for a second, replaying Emily’s words in my head. Nick wasn’t wrong. Emily’s issue was with me and Y/n spending time together one on one, not in a group. And honestly, Y/n was Nick’s friend too. We couldn’t just exclude her because of Emily’s feelings.
Nick gave me that knowing look, a half smile tugging at his lips. “Come on. Don’t overthink it. It’s just Top Golf.”
I sighed, feeling some of the tension slip away as I realized Nick had a point. There was no reason to blow this out of proportion. It was just a fun night out with friends.
“Alright, fine..” I said, clapping Nick on the shoulder. “But you’re dealing with Emily if she freaks out.”
Nick chuckled. “Deal. I told her we’ll pick her up on the way.”
The doorbell rang then, echoing through the house.
“That’ll be Madi” Chris said, getting up to answer it.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the last bit of unease. I grabbed my keys off the counter and turned back to the guys. “Alright, let’s do this. Nate, I hope you’re ready to lose your money tonight.”
Nate laughed, his confidence unwavering. “You wish.”
We all grabbed our stuff and headed out the door, the excitement for the night starting to build. As I locked up, I couldn’t help but wonder how the evening was going to play out. With Y/n along for the ride, things were bound to go one of two ways, to be very awkward or very interesting.
But as I climbed into the car with my friends, I pushed those thoughts aside. Tonight was about having fun. Whatever happened, I'd deal with it together. Just like I always did.
Y/n POV
I blinked at the message, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. I hadn’t been expecting an invitation tonight. Before I could overthink it, I typed back a quick reply:
Me: Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.
His response was immediate.
Nick 💜 : Of course, you’re not intruding! Nate’s visiting from Boston, and Madi’s coming too. It’ll be a good time.
Seeing that Nate and Madi would be there made me feel a little more at ease. It wasn’t just going to be me and the guys, so there wouldn’t be any weirdness or pressure. Still, the thought of seeing Matt again had my heart racing. I wasn’t sure how it would feel being around him tonight.
Me: Okay, sounds fun!
Nick 💜: Great! We’ll swing by and pick you up in about 30. See you soon!
I set my phone down, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. This was just a casual night out with friends, no big deal. But the potential thought that I’d see Matt again had my mind racing with thoughts I couldn’t quite push away. Shaking my head, I decided to focus on getting ready instead of overthinking.
I pulled open my closet and sifted through my clothes, trying to find something that was cute but casual enough for Top Golf. I settled on a cropped tank top with a flannel shirt layered over it. I paired it with my favorite jeans and some comfy sneakers. After giving myself a look over in the mirror, I decided to put a little extra effort into my hair and makeup. Maybe it was silly, but I wanted to feel confident tonight.
I was just finishing up when my phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Nick letting me know they were outside. I grabbed my bag, gave my reflection a quick nod of approval, and headed out the door. The nervous energy in my chest made me feel ridiculous, but I couldn’t shake it.
As I walked outside, I spotted a familiar car waiting at the curb. Matt’s car. My breath hitched for a moment. I could see Matt in the driver’s seat, Chris up front with him. I walked up to the car trying to not make direct eye contact with anyone. Nick slid open the back door and flashed me a welcoming grin.
“Hey girl! Hop in!” he said, scooting over to make room for me.
I climbed into the car, trying to keep my cool as I greeted everyone. “Hey guys!”
Matt glanced back at me through the rearview mirror, his expression softening as our eyes met. No words were exchanged, we just gave each other a half smile, the kind that made time feel like it slowed down time. I returned the smile, feeling a warmth in my chest that made me even more nervous.
“Hey, I’m Madi” said the girl sitting in the third row, offering me a friendly wave.
“And I’m Nate” added the guy next to her, a tall guy with a laid back vibe. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too!” I said, glad to finally meet the people I’d heard about from Nick.
The drive to Top Golf was surprisingly quick. Everyone was in high spirits, chatting and laughing, and I found myself relaxing as the conversation flowed easily. We unloaded from the car once we arrived, and Matt, being the gentleman he was, swung open the door on my side. Our eyes met again as I stepped out, and we exchanged another one of those small, lingering smiles.
“Thanks” I said softly, feeling a flutter in my stomach.
“No problem” Matt replied, his voice low and easygoing. The moment was brief, but it left me feeling strangely content.
As we all walked into the building, I found myself sticking close to Nick, who was happily chatting about how excited he was to see Nate again, and Matt stood on the other side of me, silent. “I’ve never done this before” I admitted to him as we waited at the reception desk. “I’m looking forward to seeing what it’s all about.”
Nick gave me a reassuring grin. “You’ll love it. It’s a good time, especially with this crew.”
We got our bay assignment from the receptionist and made our way up to the second floor. The place was buzzing with energy, people laughing, music playing, and the satisfying whack of golf balls being hit. We reached our booth, which had a great view of the range, and Matt immediately took charge of inputting all of our names into the machine.
I stood back, taking it all in. The setup was way cooler than I’d imagined, with all these targets spread out across the field in different colors. “So, what’s the deal with all the rings out there?” I asked out loud, walking past Matt to get closer to the yellow line on the ground to get a better look.
Matt joined me, leaning in slightly as he explained. “Each ring gives you a different amount of points. The farther away it is and the closer you get to the centre, the more points you score.”
I turned to him, genuinely surprised. “Wait, so there’s actually an aim to this? All this time I thought you were just hitting golf balls as stress relief.”
Matt let out a laugh, the sound making me smile. “Yeah, it’s a little more than that. But it’s fun either way.”
Chris was up first, so Matt and I moved out of his way, still chatting. He pointed out the different clubs sitting in the box beside us.
“So, these are your options” he said, picking up a golf club that was easily as tall as me. “This one’s a driver. Good for getting the ball as far out as possible.”
I eyed the club, tilting my head. “That thing’s huge. I don’t think I can even hold that properly. You’re sure I won’t just end up swinging and missing completely?”
Matt grinned, the playful glint in his eyes making me relax a little more. “It’s all in the technique. But if you think it’s too much, there are shorter ones too.” He handed me a smaller club, our fingers brushing briefly. “This one might be more your speed.”
I took the club, testing the weight of it in my hands. “Okay, this feels better. I can actually manage this one.”
“Good choice.” Matt said, his tone teasing as he picked up another club for himself. “But remember, it’s not just about the length. It’s how you use it.”
I rolled my eyes, laughing at his playful manner. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind, golf pro.” I blushed slightly. Was he flirting with me? No he didn’t mean it like that..
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made it impossible not to smile back. “I’ll show you some tips when it’s your turn.”
“Thanks, I’ll need them!” I admitted, feeling more comfortable around him than I had all night.
We all watched as Chris took his first swing, sending the ball flying towards one of the targets. Everyone cheered, and I found myself getting more excited to take my turn.
As I stood there with Matt, bantering back and forth about the clubs, I realized that maybe tonight wasn’t going to be as nerve wrecking as I’d thought. We were just a group of friends having fun, and Matt’s easygoing nature was making it hard to feel anything but relaxed. He was one of those people I instantly felt comfortable around.
When I looked up at the screen to check whose turn it was, I noticed something that made my heart skip a beat. Instead of my full name, the screen showed my nickname, one that only my closest friends used. My face flushed as I realized Matt must have been the one who put it in like that. It was a small gesture, but it made me feel warm inside.
Feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves, I stepped up to the mark and placed the golf ball on the tee. I took a deep breath, trying to channel the confidence Matt had given me earlier, and swung the club.
But instead of sailing out into the field, the ball shot straight into the netting below me. I froze in place, wide eyed and embarrassed as laughter erupted behind me. Turning around, I caught their amused faces and couldn’t help but laugh at myself too.
“You’re hitting the ball like it’s mini golf!” Matt called out, his voice full of laughter. His teasing was light hearted, and I could tell he wasn’t trying to make me feel bad.
“I’m scared to swing it properly!” I confessed, still laughing as I turned back to face him.
Matt shook his head, still chuckling as he made his way over to me. “Here, let me help you.”
My heart skipped again as he came closer, standing directly behind me. The next thing I knew, Matt was wrapping his arms around mine, placing his hands on top of mine on the club. His touch was gentle but firm, guiding me into the right position. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and suddenly, we were practically spooning while standing up. My heart raced in my chest, beating so loud I was sure he could hear it.
“Just relax” Matt said softly, his voice close to my ear. We swung the club back together, and in one smooth motion, he guided the swing, sending the ball flying down to the bottom of the field. I watched it soar, feeling a rush of excitement at how far it went.
“Do you feel better about it now?” Matt asked, his voice still low, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.
“Yeah, it’s a little less scary now” I admitted, smiling up at him as he stepped back.
With my newfound confidence, I picked up another golf ball and placed it on the tee. Matt walked back to his seat, and I focused on the ball, trying to replicate what Matt had shown me. I took the same stance, swung the club the same way, and to my amazement, the ball flew straight to the furthest ring.
Everyone cheered in unison, and I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “That’s the girl!” I heard Matt yell from behind me, his voice full of encouragement. My cheeks flushed at his praise, but I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
I took my last two turns, each time sending the ball further than the last. Every time I hit a good shot, the group cheered, and Matt’s voice always seemed to stand out above the rest. After my final shot, I put the club back in its slot and turned around to see Matt standing there with a big grin. He held up both his hands, and I gave him a double high five, our palms smacking together in a satisfying way.
We both sat down, still buzzing from the game. Matt and I started chatting, the conversation flowing easily between us. It felt good, natural, like we’d been friends forever. Before I knew it, the hour was up, and the game was over.
Nate won by a country mile, with Chris and Matt tying for second. I won’t mention where the rest of us ended up, but let’s just say it was clear who the pros were in this group.
‘Time to cough that 100 bucks up Matt.’ Nate teased.
As we all started gathering our things, Chris groaned. “Ugh, I’m not ready to go home yet. Can we do something else?”
“We could all go for a walk on the beach?” Nate suggested, his tone casual, but the idea sounded perfect to me.
Nick lit up at the suggestion. “Fucking brilliant idea, Nate.”
Matt looked over at me, almost as if he was checking to see if I’d be up for it. Our eyes met, and I gave him a reassuring smile. “The beach sounds nice. I love the beach at night.”
With that, the plan was set. We all piled back into Matt’s car, the mood even more relaxed and happy than before. I slid into the back seat next to Nick again, feeling the cool night air on my face as we drove toward the beach.
It had been a fun night so far, but something told me that the best part was still to come.
a/n : i wasn't going to post this until sunday but here you goooooo (but now you have to wait until sunday for the next part lol)
Matt was always the dominant one in the relationship, especially in bed. He was always the one to manhandle you, to edge you, to overstimulate you, all sorts of things. It has never been the other way around. Until tonight...
You and Matt had gone to one of his friends' parties. You guys danced and drank all night. Since Matt knew he was going to drink he decided for you guys to take an Uber instead of driving. Which is responsible and also good because it means he can leave without his brothers and go to your place afterwards.
You guys are currently in the back of an Uber on your way home, making out very sloppily tasting the alcohol in each other's mouths.
Breaking the kiss for a moment, Matt's hand cups your cheek, his thumb wiping away a trace of lipstick on your lips. His voice slurred but filled with lust “God, you're so fucking sexy, baby.”
The car comes to a stop. “We’re here.” The Uber driver says side eyeing you guys as you make out.
Matt takes out his wallet and pays the driver.
You guys quickly get out of the car and walk towards the door of your house, stumbling a bit because of how drunk you are.
With a smirk, Matt helps you steady yourself as you stumble towards the door. Slurring his words as he fumbles for the keys to your house “Shit, I think we had a little too much to drink.” He says letting out a low chuckle as you stumble against him. “God, I love when you're drunk.” He manages to open the door, and pulls you inside, pressing his lips against yours once more. “You taste like fucking tequila.”
You laugh softly. “I think that’s you.” You slur out as you lean in and kiss him again. After a few seconds you pull out and start going to your room.
As you both stumble towards your room, Matt's hands are all over you, groping your ass, squeezing your sides, anything he can reach. And of course he couldn’t help sneaking in a few kisses along the way. He kicks open the door to your room and pulls you inside, slamming the door shut behind you.
You pull Matt into a kiss while walking to your bed. You both lay down and continue to make out.
He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you lay on the bed. His kisses are sloppy and drunken, but filled with so much love and need.
You guys keep making out for a few minutes. Getting sloppier and needier. But Matt definitely got a lot more needier, you were so lost in the kiss you didn’t notice when he pulled out his dick and started stroking it.
With a mischievous grin, Matt pulls away from your lips and looks at you with heavy-lidded eyes. “Shit, I’m so hard for you right now.” He says as he strokes himself. “I couldn’t help it.” He says as he moans and whimpers. His strokes are going faster.
You look at him stroking himself, he looks so hot. “Fuck Matt.” You whisper and lean in to kiss his neck. You keep kissing and leaving hickeys on his neck. Your hand moves to Matt’s hand and slowly takes it off his dick and replaces it with yours.
“Oh, fuck yeah.” He groans as you wrap your hand around his hard cock, letting you take control. He leans back on the bed with a pleased sigh. "Don't stop."
You keep stroking, each stroke going faster. Your other hand moves and starts playing his balls.
"Shit, your hands feel so good." He moans, his head tossing back and forth on the pillow. "Don't stop, please don't stop." He begs, his hips moving up to meet your strokes. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum so hard."
“Yeah? You’re close?” You ask with a smirk.
"Oh yeah, I'm so fucking close." He pants heavily, his hips thrusting faster. "Please don't stop, please make me cum." He begs you.
But as soon as he’s about to cum you pull your hands away.
"What the fuck?! Why did you stop?" He says in a needy, almost whiny voice. He raises his hips, looking for your hand again. "Please, don't stop, please make me cum."
“Shhh you gotta be patient.” You say with teasing and lean to kiss him.
He lets out a frustrated whimper as you kiss him, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. He tries to pull your hands back to his dick, but you hold them firm. "Fuck, please," he begs between kisses. "I need to cum so bad."
Your kisses move down to his neck as your fingers tease his tip.
He lets out a loud groan as your lips move down to his neck, sucking and biting gently. "Yes, just like that." he whispers as your fingers tease his sensitive tip.
“You like that?” Your fingers move down to play with his balls.
"Oh fuck yes!" He moans as your fingers play with his balls. His hips buck up and down, trying to get some sort of friction on his dick. His body is covered in a sheen of sweat and his breaths come in ragged gasps.
Your hand finally moves to stroke his dick but they are really slow strokes.
His eyes roll back in his head as your hand finally starts stroking his dick, but the slow pace is torture. He whines and complains, trying to speed up your hand, but you just keep the slow, teasing strokes going. "Please, faster," he begs, his voice strained with need.
You chuckle slightly at his whine and move your hand faster. With your free hand you start rubbing his tip. "Fuck, yes!" Matt moans as your hand speeds up and you start to rub his tip. His body tenses up, muscles clenching as he gets closer and closer to climax.
“Are you close?” You ask speeding up.
"Y-yes, I'm so close! Fuck, I'm gonna cum!" He cries out, his voice loud and desperate. His dick pulses in your hand as he’s about to cum. But you pull away.
He groans in frustration as you pull away, his orgasm just out of reach. "What the fuck?! Why did you stop?!" He pants, looking at you with a mix of frustration and need. "Please, let me cum! I can't take it anymore!"
You chuckle at his reaction and lean in to kiss him. Leaving his dick now turning red with a bit of purple with need.
"Oh fuck, don't tease me like this," He moans against your lips, his hips thrusting up and down in a hopeless attempt to find some relief. “please! Just let me cum!” He begs, his voice cracking with desperation. His dick is now a deep shade of purple and throbbing with need, precum dripping steadily from the tip.
You stop kissing him and your hand wraps around his dick tightly but not moving.
He gasps as you tighten your grip around his dick, the pressure almost too much to bear. "Oh fuck, that's... that's so tight," he groans. His body is flushed and his breath comes in short, desperate pants. He's never been so horny, never so desperate. He bites his lip and whines softly, squirming under your hand.
Your other hand starts rubbing his tip really fast, while your other hand stays still around his length.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck! Fuck!" He cries out, his hips bucking up and down at a frantic pace as he tries to rub his tip against your hand the way he wants to. He's so horny, so desperate for release, and your teasing is driving him wild.
“You like that?” You ask.
"Yes, fuck yes, I love it!" He gasps, his voice filled with pure need and pleasure. "Please, don't stop! I'm so close!" He begs, his body trembling as he tries to find that elusive release.
Your hand around his dick finally starts moving. It stokes him up and down very fast.
"Oh fuck! Fuck! I'm cumming!" He screams, his hips bucking furiously up and down as he unloads with an intense orgasm, pumping his load all over your hand as he trembles with pleasure. His body twitches as he's cums, his cock erupting in a massive, uncontrollable orgasm. Thick ropes of cum shoot out of his tip, coating your hand and arm in his release He moans as he finishes cumming, his body still shaking with the intensity of his orgasm. He's completely spent and flushed with a deep sensation of satisfaction. He look up at you with a lazy but satisfied grin, his eyes shining with happiness. "That was amazing..."
With a smirk you lean in and kiss him.
He melts into the kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours. He's still catching his breath from his orgasm, but he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he kisses you deeply, his heart still racing from the intensity of his release. He pulls back. “We should get drunk more often,” he says and laughs softly.
“Yeah, we should.” You giggle and then bring your hand to your mouth to lick all his cum.
He watches with wide eyes, his gaze glued to your hand as you lick and suck his cum off of it, his breath catching as he sees the pleasure on your face. “Fuck...” he utters softly.
He reaches out and gently pushes your head back down, encouraging you to continue cleaning his cum off your hand. He can't believe how fucking hot this is, and he loves seeing you enjoy it just as much as he is. "Keep going, baby...lick it all off..."
You lick and suck your fingers clean as you maintain eye contact with him.
chris sturniolo never liked you and he wasn’t shy about it either. he always went out his way to insult any and everything that you did. he even went as far as pushing you around. everyone always turned a blind eye to it. ‘he’s just acting like an older brother’ they say. ‘he’s looking out for you’ they say.
he didn’t care about you. he was obligated to. he’s your brothers best friend. of course you couldn’t let his comments go unnoticed. but you couldn’t find courage all the time to retaliate. this caused chris to tease you even more.
but if he really hated you that much, then why he in your room at three am instead of sleeping in your brother’s room? why was his head between your legs right now?
“m’hate you” you mewled as you tugged at his curls. he hummed and pulled you closer. the vibration was sensational. “so mean t’me all the time” you rambled. you’ve been letting out all your hateful thoughts for the past ten minutes. the way he flattened his tongue to not waste any of you made your grip on his hair tighter.
from the sucking, licking, and biting, it’s safe to say chris abused your cunt to the point where it’s all puffy, sticky, and red. it was almost like he couldn’t get enough of you. his grip on your thighs could leave fingerprints. the way he pushed his head further into made it seem like he wanted to drown in your juices.
you tried pushing his head away everytime you get close to cumming but then he sucks on your clit which turns the pushing into pulling. fat tears were streaming down your face as yet another orgasm brewed in your stomach.
he refused to give you anymore than his mouth. it felt like he was using you for his own pleasure. he definitely is. you knew that because as soon as you reached the brink of your breaking point yet again, he stopped. he removed himself from your legs then stood up. if you weren’t crying before you definitely would be now.
“chris-“ you were cut off with a slap on your already abused cunt. something between a moan and cry left your throat as your legs closed shut. “i gave you enough already don’t be greedy” he says.
you turned your head. you didn’t even want to look at him. you couldn’t tell if you were upset or embarrassed. both. but that was cut short before chris grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him. his lips and chin glistened with a mix of saliva and your arousal.
“guess you aren’t a prude after all” he smirked. he wiped the tears from your face then leaned down close to your lips. “don’t you fucking dare let anyone near to my pussy. understood?” he says in a low tone. “i understand” you replied in a shaky tone.
as chris walks out your room you couldn’t help but stare at the back of his head. you hated how he talked to you. but he can do crazy things with his mouth so i guess it cancels out.
🫦 summary: you and your best friend, chris, go out drinking, hoping you each get laid. the two of you make a deal that if you both strike out and leave the bars alone, you'll just hook up with each other. as destiny has it, he ends up going home with you, and he gives you the most mind-blowing sex of your life.
dividers by @/chachachannah
Destiny, The Two Way Street
chapters: | 1 | 2 |
It wasn't long before we were making out and shedding our clothes on the way to the room.
By the time we made it into my bedroom, Chris was in boxers, and I was in my bralette and a lace thong. "Get on your knees. Now," Chris commanded in a voice I didn't recognize as his. I obediently listened, and I looked up at him from the floor. I could see the bulge in between his legs and the way he was looking down at me like he'd been waiting for this moment.
He pulled out his cock and needily plunged it into my mouth. He grabbed onto the back of my head and started forcing it deeper down my throat while sweet sounding moans flowed from his lips. He didn't take his time whatsoever. I could tell he needed this.
His thrusting became quicker and more sporadic, causing me to choke, and my eyes started to well up. He slowly pulled his meat all the way out of my mouth, and it triggered a gagging sound when he did. I watched as Chris admired my saliva that was coating his cock.
Chris forcefully grabbed my face, compelling me to look up at him. "You like sucking on my cock, naughty girl?" he whispered. I didn't expect him to, but he slapped me hard across my left cheek, and what I expected even less was that I liked it.
"Open your mouth," he ordered, and I expected him to shove his throbbing member back in. Instead, he let a string of spit fall from his mouth and into my own. He got closer to my mouth and spit into it again, smiling. So hot.
"You like when I spit in your mouth?" He cooed. I couldn't think or speak. My brain was buzzing with all the excitement and stimulation that came with giving Chris head. "What's wrong? Can't answer? My cock got you all dumb, princess?" He asked in a menacing voice.
He went back to assaulting my mouth with his dick. This was the first time I'd ever had a man be so dominant and rough with me, and I secretly loved it. I never pictured Chris being so aggressive in bed. And the way he was talking to me? I could have cum right there. I was usually more dominant during sex, especially when giving head, but Chris didn't give me the space to be, and I actually really liked it. I didn't feel in control of the blowjob, and it was hot.
Chris was still pumping in and out of me, whimpering loudly. "Take it. Fucking take it. Swallow. That's it. Fucking swallow it," he whispered while his cock twitched and he filled my mouth with his fluids. I did my best to swallow it, but I could barely keep my own saliva in my mouth at this point with how Chris had just had his way with it.
I was a mess. My hair was fucked, my mascara stained tears had dried on my face, and I had a mixture of Chris' cum, his spit, and my spit dribbling down my chin, but Chris leaned over, taking a fistful of my hair after using my throat so violently and whispered, "you've never looked so beautiful." I could tell by the way he had his sights set on me that the sick bastard meant it.
This surprised me greatly. When I did imagine what kind of lover Chris would be (which wasn't up until a few hours prior), I pictured him being tender and sensual, but this? This was even better than that. I had no idea he could have this effect on me, and had I known, I would have begged him to fuck me sooner.
He stood up and got a wet rag and started gently wiping the mess on my face, which was the most gentleman thing he had done so far tonight.
Once I was comfortable and cleaned off, Chris practically picked me up by neck and threw me onto my bed. "Spread your legs for me. Now," he growled, and I did as he said. Instead of removing them or pushing them to the side, he ripped my underwear. I gasped as I heard the fabric of one of my favorite pairs of panties tear, but I got over it quickly when Chris' lips clamped down around my swollen bud, and he started sucking with incredible pressure.
"Oh my god, Chris!" I yelped while he violated me with his mouth. His tongue moved back and forth so fast it felt like it was vibrating. He was practically drooling all over my pussy, and then I felt two of his fingers enter me and curl against my g spot.
He came up for air and kissed me, filling my mouth with my own taste. Just then, his free hand found its way to my neck, and he choked me out while he looked into my eyes and finger fucked me. I felt my eyes roll back in my head, and I moaned several times. "You take my fingers so good. I wonder how good you're gonna take my dick," Chris muttered to me.
I was sobbing at this point, incredibly over stimulated, and couldn't breathe because Chris was cutting off my airway. Just when I thought I might pass out from it all, Chris lightened his grip on my throat.
"Cum on my fingers, pretty girl," Chris cooed, still pumping them into me with amazing speed, and by this point I couldn't help it. My walls tightened around Chris' digits, and I let out an, "Oh, fuck. Chris!" while he guided me through my orgasm. It was phenomenal. "You listen so well, you take my fingers so well. Come on pretty girl. You got this," he whispered into my ear while my legs trembled. I was taken so far out of body by my climax that I almost forgot where I was.
There were still fibers of ripped fabric around my thighs, and Chris took this brief intermission to rip them the rest of the way off. Without warning, Chris was thrusting his dick into me. I winced in pain because I didn't expect him to stretch me out so much. "Too big for you, princess?" He asked. I nodded, biting my lip, my body jolting every time he slammed into me. "You'll get used to it," he smirked and continued pounding into me faster and harder.
Slowly, the pain turned into a euphoric feeling. He had me seeing stars, moaning unintelligible things, drooling as he grabbed my face and wouldn't let go. He spit in my mouth again. I was originally laying on my back, but Chris grabbed me by my hips, pulled me deeper onto his cock, and tilted me so I was laying on my side with one leg resting on his shoulder.
Chris dug into my thigh with his hands as he held my leg up. "Take that cock, you fucking slut. Take it," he grunted loudly. I loved the stinging feeling his hand left on my cheek. I loved his spit. I loved his degrading words. I loved being nothing more than a cock sleeve for Chris. I wondered if he knew how badly I needed this.
Chris grabbed my thighs and pulled me further down onto the bed, and he held me down by my wrists while he rammed into me again and again. "Don't even think about trying to fight against how hard you're about to finish. You'll never win," he grunted at me through clenched teeth. Who was this man, and what had he done with Chris Sturniolo? How had I not picked up the fact that he was such a freak?
I knew it was gonna hurt to stand the next day, and it turned me on to think about how Chris would tease me about walking funny, and about how he might secretly relish in the fact that he's the reason for it.
Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, Chris threw me around like a ragdoll until we were in a different position. Chris was sitting back against my headboard, and he pulled me on top of his lap, so my knees were resting on his. We were in a sort of reversed cowgirl/Italian chandelier position, but Chris was holding me up and doing all the work, and thank god because all my limbs had gone limp at this point from exhaustion.
I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror in my room, the way he was impaling me in the most incredible way possible. He was guiding my hips and bouncing me up and down on his length vigorously. "I'm gonna cum in your pretty pussy, okay? You're such a dirty little whore, and I'm gonna fill you up like one," Chris whimpered breathlessly. When he said this, he quickened his pace, and I watched again in the mirror as he fucked me mercilessly. This all drove me over the edge.
My orgasm crashed over me like a tsunami, all my muscles trembling, and I swear I forgot to breathe for a second. It was perfect. I felt my walls spasming around Chris' cock, and the sounds pouring from his mouth made me think he felt it too. Chris came shortly after me, blowing his load deep into my pussy and moaning my name while he did it.
We both collapsed onto the bed on top of the blankets we had ruined. "Holy. Fucking. Shit." I said, looking at Chris, still shocked by how incredible of a lay he was. "I know, I know. Best lay you've ever had. I only hear it every time," he sneered at me. Wow, so humble.
"You know I haven't gotten laid in like nine months. And this whole time, you've been holding out on me?!" I exclaimed, shoving his arm, probably feeding his ego, but I secretly liked doing that. "Oh, you poor thing. Nine? Had I known it had been that long, I would have offered you a ride on my dick a lot sooner," Chris said, pulling me close and kissing me. "Oh, how generous of you," I laughed.
"I hate to say it, princess, but I think I've ruined you for any other man you'll ever sleep with. You'll never be as satisfied with them as you will be with me." I rolled my eyes at how cocky he was being, but I knew he was probably right.
"Why don't I roll us a blunt, get you some water, bring you a snack, and then we can cuddle all night in your warm, comfy bed? Then when you wake up, we can go for round two if you're up for it," he said, holding me and kissing my forehead.
I didn't understand how he could be such a menace in the sheets but so sweet after it was over, but I certainly wasn't complaining. I loved the sound of all of that.
"Do you have any idea how sore I'm gonna be tomorrow morning?" I blushed at him. "Then I'll have to kiss it all better first, won't I?" "Ugh thank god that redhead chick at the bar blew you off," I sighed. "She didn't. I blew her off. I had prior engagements," Chris looked into my eyes, smirked, and he got up to get me weed, water, and a snack.
And as I watched my favorite person get up to go fetch all my favorite things after doing all my favorite things to me, I didn't mean to, but I fell in love with my best friend at that moment.
Later, Chris would admit that he fell in love with me too that night, but he knew it when our eyes locked as I walked out of the bar to go smoke a cigarette, and that was really why he blew off the redhead.
🤍 summary: after a few days of sneaking around with Chris and doing naughty things with him while on a vacation with him and his brothers, you guys plan to have sex for the first time, but the biggest obstacle is hiding it from nick and matt. the second biggest obstacle is trying not to fall in love with him.
Road Trippin'
chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 |
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Once we got out to the lobby, our faces lit up. The glorious aroma of various breakfast foods filled the air. There was coffee, orange juice, sausage, bacon, eggs, potatoes, biscuits and gravy, muffins, hot cereal, any breakfast food we could ever dream of really. We got ourselves plates full of our favorite foods and sat down to eat. We were laughing and smiling, feeding each other, and cracking jokes. I loved being around Chris. Our energies flowed so easily when we were alone together.
Soon, Nick and Matt came down to join us. "Wow, you're up early, Chris," Matt commented. I was normally happy to see the other brothers, but I associated them with having to police myself. Of course I could look at Chris, and laugh at his jokes, but I couldn't stare lovingly into his eyes or get lost in his smile with them around, so I made sure not to let my gaze or my touch linger too long on Chris when we interacted. I realllly did like sneaking around, though. I found myself wondering what Nick or Matt would do if they caught us, or what they would think if they knew their brother had me cumming all over his fingers the night before and cumming all over his tongue this morning. I didn't know why, but the idea of having a little secret and getting found out just made the whole situation that much hotter.
But there was another part of me that didn't want to hide. There was a part of me who wanted to hold his hand and kiss him, and not have to worry about it all being a secret. All four of us spent the day together, mostly hanging out around the hotel, and Chris and I secretly texted back and forth. "Fake sick tonight when Matt and Nick go out for dinner. I'll order us something, and we'll hang out just the two of us for our last night in town," Chris' text read.
Later that night, I put on the oscar-winning performance, Nick and Matt totally bought it. "You know, I think someone should stay here to look after her. She seems pretty sick," Chris said to his brothers. "That's really nice of you, Chris," Nick said, volunteering Chris, which was his plan anyway. Matt shot Chris a look like he knew he was up to something. But they still went out, leaving Chris and me alone.
Food that Chris ordered arrived shortly after the two boys left. Chris and I sat on my bed, feeding each other french fries, drinking our milkshakes, and talking about how we didn't want to leave the next day.
After us talking about our favorite things about the trip and finishing our food, we started kissing, rolling around the bed, messing up all the sheets, and removing our clothes. "I wanna see it," I said, pinching my lip between my teeth while I was straddling Chris. "Yeah, I guess you couldn't see much last night in the dark," Chris said, biting his lip back at me while I fiddled with the waistband of his pajama pants. I climbed off of him so he could take them off. He was already hard, his mushroom tip engorged, and it curved slightly to the left. He curled his fingers around his veiny shaft and started slowly moving it up and down. "Do you like it?" He asked, capturing my attention with the pre-cum glimmering as it slowly formed on the tip. I looked into his dreamy, glazed-over eyes and nodded.
I leaned down and slurped up his juices, and he let out a soft moan. I continued making soft circles with my tongue around the head, and I watched as he tossed his head back, his expression overcome by ecstasy. I wrapped my lips around it and took what I could into my mouth, and stroked the rest with my hand. He lowered his gaze to my mouth and the way I was hungrily taking in so much of him. "Fuck I love watching you do that," Chris whimpered, licking his lips. I loved watching him and the way his face was so expressive about how he was feeling. I focused my attention on the head, licking that sweet spot on the back of his cock where it meets the shaft, and I listened as his delicious sounds filled the room. I created some suction while my tongue danced across all his sensitive areas, and he peered down at me with a look of desperation and desire, his features softening while he started to come undone.
I loved how we didn't have to be quiet, unlike this morning and the night before. I loved experiencing his pleasure vicariously through him, through his sweet little noises and the way his eyebrows furrowed into a tightened expression while I brought him to the edge. I felt his sticky white fluid spurt across my tongue while he throbbed inside of my mouth and let out a final whimper. "Oh my god," Chris uttered breathlessly after he came. I noticed he was way less dominant this time and basically let me have my way with him however I wanted and let me be in complete control of the blowjob, which really turned me on. And I loved leaving him satisfied.
"Please let me ride you," I whispered to Chris after he started to recover from his climax. "Listen, I really want to, but we only have like ten minutes before my brothers walk through that door," Chris said checking his phone, "and honestly I just wanna hold you until then." This made me smile. "Maybe I can ride you tonight after the boys fall asleep," I said, putting my clothes back on and making my bed. "I would fucking love that," Chris said, holding out his arms for me to embrace him. And we cuddled in my bed until Matt's car pulled into the parking lot.
When they walked in, Chris and I were on our own separate beds, ignoring each other. "You feeling any better?" Matt inquired when he saw me. "What? Oh, I mean, a little bit. I think I have a stomach bug," I responded. "A stomach bug, huh? But you were feeling fine enough to eat a burger and fries from Five Guys?" Matt said, examining the trash we hadn't thrown out yet. I shot a look at Chris, unsure what to say. "I ate all that food, idiot. I just got her a milkshake," Chris said, not even looking up at Matt. "Yup. Haven't thrown it up yet," I said, smiling at Matt. He made a disgusted face at us both. I was worried he was onto us or at least suspecting something.
And I didn't want Chris to know, but I was falling for him. And we hadn't had the "what are we" conversation. We hadn't even discussed if this was something that was going to continue after our roadtrip was over and we were back in Boston, and because of that, I was dreading it coming to an end. Being on vacation with Chris felt like a fairytale that I never wanted to come to a close.
I went into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, but I saw Chris behind me in the mirror when I came up from splashing cold water on my face. He slid his arms around my waist, nestled his smile into my neck and whispered, "I can't wait to fuck you silly tonight." I felt his erection on my back as he did this. Despite having cum like five times in the last 24 hours, he had me needing more. As soon as we both heard footsteps coming closer to the bathroom, Chris released his grip on me and picked up his toothbrush. When Matt walked up on us in the bathroom, we were both nonchalantly brushing our teeth, standing a few feet apart. Matt stood between us and grabbed his own toothbrush. "Listen, I don't know what the fuck you guys are hiding, but I'm gonna find out," Matt said sternly. Chris and I both got wide-eyed and I nearly choked as I tried to spit into the sink. "What the fuck are you talking about?" I responded in a hushed voice, so Nick wouldn't hear. "I know you guys are up to no good," Matt responded. "The way you both stayed back while we got food last night, the way you guys were looking at each other while we were eating, texting back and forth all day, the way you just faked sick on our last night and both had an excuse to hang back again?" Fuck, well when he put it like that, it seemed like we were really bad at sneaking around. We both stayed silent. "See? Neither one of you are denying it. And I don't know what the hell you guys have cooked up, but just know I'm one step ahead of you, and I'm gonna figure out whatever prank it is you're trying to pull on me," Matt said pointing sternly at us both. I felt a sigh of relief come over both Chris and me. Oh, thank god. Matt's just being paranoid about us fucking with him. At least he doesn't know we're fucking with each other instead. "Oh my god Matt, you're so paranoid. Why would we prank you?" Chris said, a smile creeping across his face as he look at me in the mirror, feeding into Matt's suspicions. "See? I knew it! Watch yourselves. You guys think you're slick, but I see everything," Matt threatened. And he started brushing his teeth. I rolled my eyes and made my way to my bed that Chris had I had done unspeakable things to each other in earlier. I was relieved that Matt didn't immediately jump to the correct conclusion, which was that Chris and I were sneaking around and getting each other off any chance we could get, but he was picking up on the energy between Chris and me, which made me nervous. He knew we were being sneaky, and I also knew Matt was going to be paying extra attention to the way Chris and I were interacting. We had to be extra careful from here on out. But that wasn't exactly gonna start tonight, because I still hadn't gotten to fuck Chris, and it was our last night before we pack up and go back home. Who knows? Tonight might be the only chance. Once I got into my bed, I texted Chris, "Make extra sure Matt is asleep before you come over to my bed tonight."
A few hours later, both Nick and Matt were asleep. Once Chris came over to my bed, he kissed me deeply. He immediately shoved his hand down the front of my panties. "Mmm already wet, I see?" He quietly cooed. I blushed, but he couldn't tell in the dark room. I didn't say anything. I just started taking his clothes off, and I pushed him up against the wall behind the head of the bed, and I straddled him. "I need you," he whispered into my ear as he moved my panties to the side.
I slowly lowered myself onto him, and I savored every inch as it slowly filled me. We both softly exhaled once he was all way inside. It didn't take long for me to get used to him, it didn't take long before it was getting difficult to stay at a slow pace to keep from waking the brothers. "Mmm so tight," Chris purred into my ear, in which I responded by riding a little faster. He pulled up my t-shirt and started running his hands over my breasts, taking one of them into his mouth. I was overwhelmed by how incredible all the stimulation felt. I tried to stay quiet, but I found obscenities and Chris' name flowing from my lips while I pleasured myself on Chris' cock. "Shhh are you trying to get us caught?" Chris laughed at me, knowing I couldn't help it and slipped a hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. Sex with Chris was incredible, and having to be quiet almost made it harder to be. "Okay, darling, I need you to be quiet on your own okay? I need both hands for this," he smirked as he lifted me up by my hips and started thrusting.
At first, I was really good at holding back my whimpers, but it didn't take long before we were both approaching our climax, and our moans and panting definitely got out of hand. "Chris, what the fuck!?" We both heard Matt waking up and realizing what was going on, but it was too late. We were both teetering on an orgasm, and no matter how humiliated we both were, we couldn't stop.
I felt myself snap as Matt got up and turned on the light, and he definitely got a full view of me convulsing on Chris' cock as he finished me off with a few last strokes. Just then, Chris lifted me off of him, his dick coated in a layer of my fluids, and Matt couldn't help but to watch as Chris came into his hand while he rolled his eyes back and let out a loud "fuck," most likely a response to both the incredible pleasure coursing through his body and the fact that Matt had just witnessed the final seconds of it all. "Oh my god, I thought if I turned on the light, you sick fucks would stop!" Matt yelled. "Yeah, and I thought if you woke up while we were fucking, you'd pretend you didn't and go back to sleep, idiot." Chris said, covering himself with whatever piece of clothing was closest to him.
"What's happening?" Nick asked, poking his head over the couch and rubbing his eyes. I buried my face in my hands. "Oh, you know, they're just fucking in the bed next to me, that's all," Matt responded, rolling his eyes. "What the fuck? You two?" Nick pointed at us wide-eyed with his jaw on the floor. "Dude, I'm sorry, you don't understand how close I was when you turned on the light, I couldn't stop if I wanted to," Chris said, flustered, avoiding eye contact with everyone. "Yeah, trust me, I know. I was there," Matt gave his brother attitude. "Okay, let's not make this a whole thing. Can we just act like this never happened and go to bed?" Chris snapped back. "Yeah, but you're not sleeping in my bed with me," Matt snorted. "Wasn't planning on it, jackass. Now turn off the light," Chris told him. "Okay, but if you guys start getting it on again, I'm going downstairs and getting my own hotel room for the night," Matt responded. "Yeah, I'll be joining you Matt," Nick chimed in.
Matt turned off the light, everyone returned to their beds, but Chris stayed in mine. I had a million thoughts racing through my head. I was embarrassed, kind of turned on that we got caught like that, and ultimately confused as to why I had that reaction to the whole situation and what it meant going forward. I finally fell asleep in Chris' arms.
The next morning, when Chris and I woke up beside each other, we both smiled, and he kissed me. "Good morning, beautiful." My god, his morning voice was to die for. "Good morning," I smiled back. "I can't believe we got caught last night. Is it bad that I find it sort of hot?" I asked Chris.
"You guys make me sick," Matt said, turning over in his bed, apparently awake again. I blushed. "So what does this mean? You guys dating now?" Matt groggily asked, checking his phone. "Actually we hadn't gotten a chance to talk about it, Matt, but thanks for ruining the moment, because I was literally right about to ask," Chris said, turning to me, "do you wanna be my girlfriend?" I stared at him in silence for a few seconds. "You know, unless you were just fooling around and having fun, then I get that," Chris said, looking away and fidgeting with his hair. "No, I mean yes. I mean, no, it wasn't just fooling around to me, and yes, I do wanna be your girlfriend," I said, grinning. "Okay, good," Chris leaned in to kiss me. "Awh how cute," Matt said sarcastically, "now get the fuck up and help me pack." Chris leaned in and kissed me again, "I think I love you," he whispered, looking into my eyes. "I think I love you too."
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29
Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo
Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.
The sun was dipping low, orange and pink hues painted the sky as I stared out the window. The day had been pretty chill now that Emily was gone, I had some space and could just hang out with Chris and Nick. But now, things were about to get a whole lot more interesting. Nate, our friend from Boston, was visiting for the next week or so and had just arrived at our house. It felt like old times again, having the whole gang together.
“Yo, Matt!” Nate’s voice rang out from the living room. “You ready to lose tonight?”
I smirked, walking in to find him and Chris sprawled out on the couch. “Lose? You mean, are you ready to lose? I’ve been working on my swing, man.”
Nate laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that. My game’s been on point lately.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll put 100 bucks on it.” I said, rolling my eyes and grabbing my phone off the counter. “Where’s Nick?”
“He’s in his room” Chris said. “Probably trying to pick out an outfit like it’s some kind of fashion show.”
I chuckled. “Well, he better hurry up. We’re supposed to leave in like ten minutes.”
As if on cue, Nick walked down the stairs into the room, looking way too casual for someone who’d spent an extra ten minutes getting ready.
“Speaking of the devil” I said, crossing my arms with a grin, “You finally done making yourself pretty?”
Nick laughed it off. “I was just making sure my plus one could come.”
“Plus one?” I raised an eyebrow, not sure what he meant.
“Yeah?” Nick said, glancing around the room at all of us. “I invited Y/n to come with us.”
I felt my grin fade a bit, replaced by surprise. I hadn’t seen that coming. Not that I had a problem with Y/n coming along, but with everything that had gone down with Emily.. things were complicated, especially after last time.
I shot Nick a look, trying to figure out what he was thinking. “You sure that’s a good idea? I mean, Emily wasn’t exactly happy about us hanging out.”
Nick shrugged, looking calm and collected. “If I remember correctly, she said she didn’t want you two hanging out alone. We’re all going, right? It’s not like it’s just you and Y/n. There’ll be six of us total.”
I thought about that for a second, replaying Emily’s words in my head. Nick wasn’t wrong. Emily’s issue was with me and Y/n spending time together one on one, not in a group. And honestly, Y/n was Nick’s friend too. We couldn’t just exclude her because of Emily’s feelings.
Nick gave me that knowing look, a half smile tugging at his lips. “Come on. Don’t overthink it. It’s just Top Golf.”
I sighed, feeling some of the tension slip away as I realized Nick had a point. There was no reason to blow this out of proportion. It was just a fun night out with friends.
“Alright, fine..” I said, clapping Nick on the shoulder. “But you’re dealing with Emily if she freaks out.”
Nick chuckled. “Deal. I told her we’ll pick her up on the way.”
The doorbell rang then, echoing through the house.
“That’ll be Madi” Chris said, getting up to answer it.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the last bit of unease. I grabbed my keys off the counter and turned back to the guys. “Alright, let’s do this. Nate, I hope you’re ready to lose your money tonight.”
Nate laughed, his confidence unwavering. “You wish.”
We all grabbed our stuff and headed out the door, the excitement for the night starting to build. As I locked up, I couldn’t help but wonder how the evening was going to play out. With Y/n along for the ride, things were bound to go one of two ways, to be very awkward or very interesting.
But as I climbed into the car with my friends, I pushed those thoughts aside. Tonight was about having fun. Whatever happened, I'd deal with it together. Just like I always did.
Y/n POV
I blinked at the message, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. I hadn’t been expecting an invitation tonight. Before I could overthink it, I typed back a quick reply:
Me: Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.
His response was immediate.
Nick 💜 : Of course, you’re not intruding! Nate’s visiting from Boston, and Madi’s coming too. It’ll be a good time.
Seeing that Nate and Madi would be there made me feel a little more at ease. It wasn’t just going to be me and the guys, so there wouldn’t be any weirdness or pressure. Still, the thought of seeing Matt again had my heart racing. I wasn’t sure how it would feel being around him tonight.
Me: Okay, sounds fun!
Nick 💜: Great! We’ll swing by and pick you up in about 30. See you soon!
I set my phone down, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. This was just a casual night out with friends, no big deal. But the potential thought that I’d see Matt again had my mind racing with thoughts I couldn’t quite push away. Shaking my head, I decided to focus on getting ready instead of overthinking.
I pulled open my closet and sifted through my clothes, trying to find something that was cute but casual enough for Top Golf. I settled on a cropped tank top with a flannel shirt layered over it. I paired it with my favorite jeans and some comfy sneakers. After giving myself a look over in the mirror, I decided to put a little extra effort into my hair and makeup. Maybe it was silly, but I wanted to feel confident tonight.
I was just finishing up when my phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Nick letting me know they were outside. I grabbed my bag, gave my reflection a quick nod of approval, and headed out the door. The nervous energy in my chest made me feel ridiculous, but I couldn’t shake it.
As I walked outside, I spotted a familiar car waiting at the curb. Matt’s car. My breath hitched for a moment. I could see Matt in the driver’s seat, Chris up front with him. I walked up to the car trying to not make direct eye contact with anyone. Nick slid open the back door and flashed me a welcoming grin.
“Hey girl! Hop in!” he said, scooting over to make room for me.
I climbed into the car, trying to keep my cool as I greeted everyone. “Hey guys!”
Matt glanced back at me through the rearview mirror, his expression softening as our eyes met. No words were exchanged, we just gave each other a half smile, the kind that made time feel like it slowed down time. I returned the smile, feeling a warmth in my chest that made me even more nervous.
“Hey, I’m Madi” said the girl sitting in the third row, offering me a friendly wave.
“And I’m Nate” added the guy next to her, a tall guy with a laid back vibe. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too!” I said, glad to finally meet the people I’d heard about from Nick.
The drive to Top Golf was surprisingly quick. Everyone was in high spirits, chatting and laughing, and I found myself relaxing as the conversation flowed easily. We unloaded from the car once we arrived, and Matt, being the gentleman he was, swung open the door on my side. Our eyes met again as I stepped out, and we exchanged another one of those small, lingering smiles.
“Thanks” I said softly, feeling a flutter in my stomach.
“No problem” Matt replied, his voice low and easygoing. The moment was brief, but it left me feeling strangely content.
As we all walked into the building, I found myself sticking close to Nick, who was happily chatting about how excited he was to see Nate again, and Matt stood on the other side of me, silent. “I’ve never done this before” I admitted to him as we waited at the reception desk. “I’m looking forward to seeing what it’s all about.”
Nick gave me a reassuring grin. “You’ll love it. It’s a good time, especially with this crew.”
We got our bay assignment from the receptionist and made our way up to the second floor. The place was buzzing with energy, people laughing, music playing, and the satisfying whack of golf balls being hit. We reached our booth, which had a great view of the range, and Matt immediately took charge of inputting all of our names into the machine.
I stood back, taking it all in. The setup was way cooler than I’d imagined, with all these targets spread out across the field in different colors. “So, what’s the deal with all the rings out there?” I asked out loud, walking past Matt to get closer to the yellow line on the ground to get a better look.
Matt joined me, leaning in slightly as he explained. “Each ring gives you a different amount of points. The farther away it is and the closer you get to the centre, the more points you score.”
I turned to him, genuinely surprised. “Wait, so there’s actually an aim to this? All this time I thought you were just hitting golf balls as stress relief.”
Matt let out a laugh, the sound making me smile. “Yeah, it’s a little more than that. But it’s fun either way.”
Chris was up first, so Matt and I moved out of his way, still chatting. He pointed out the different clubs sitting in the box beside us.
“So, these are your options” he said, picking up a golf club that was easily as tall as me. “This one’s a driver. Good for getting the ball as far out as possible.”
I eyed the club, tilting my head. “That thing’s huge. I don’t think I can even hold that properly. You’re sure I won’t just end up swinging and missing completely?”
Matt grinned, the playful glint in his eyes making me relax a little more. “It’s all in the technique. But if you think it’s too much, there are shorter ones too.” He handed me a smaller club, our fingers brushing briefly. “This one might be more your speed.”
I took the club, testing the weight of it in my hands. “Okay, this feels better. I can actually manage this one.”
“Good choice.” Matt said, his tone teasing as he picked up another club for himself. “But remember, it’s not just about the length. It’s how you use it.”
I rolled my eyes, laughing at his playful manner. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind, golf pro.” I blushed slightly. Was he flirting with me? No he didn’t mean it like that..
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made it impossible not to smile back. “I’ll show you some tips when it’s your turn.”
“Thanks, I’ll need them!” I admitted, feeling more comfortable around him than I had all night.
We all watched as Chris took his first swing, sending the ball flying towards one of the targets. Everyone cheered, and I found myself getting more excited to take my turn.
As I stood there with Matt, bantering back and forth about the clubs, I realized that maybe tonight wasn’t going to be as nerve wrecking as I’d thought. We were just a group of friends having fun, and Matt’s easygoing nature was making it hard to feel anything but relaxed. He was one of those people I instantly felt comfortable around.
When I looked up at the screen to check whose turn it was, I noticed something that made my heart skip a beat. Instead of my full name, the screen showed my nickname, one that only my closest friends used. My face flushed as I realized Matt must have been the one who put it in like that. It was a small gesture, but it made me feel warm inside.
Feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves, I stepped up to the mark and placed the golf ball on the tee. I took a deep breath, trying to channel the confidence Matt had given me earlier, and swung the club.
But instead of sailing out into the field, the ball shot straight into the netting below me. I froze in place, wide eyed and embarrassed as laughter erupted behind me. Turning around, I caught their amused faces and couldn’t help but laugh at myself too.
“You’re hitting the ball like it’s mini golf!” Matt called out, his voice full of laughter. His teasing was light hearted, and I could tell he wasn’t trying to make me feel bad.
“I’m scared to swing it properly!” I confessed, still laughing as I turned back to face him.
Matt shook his head, still chuckling as he made his way over to me. “Here, let me help you.”
My heart skipped again as he came closer, standing directly behind me. The next thing I knew, Matt was wrapping his arms around mine, placing his hands on top of mine on the club. His touch was gentle but firm, guiding me into the right position. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and suddenly, we were practically spooning while standing up. My heart raced in my chest, beating so loud I was sure he could hear it.
“Just relax” Matt said softly, his voice close to my ear. We swung the club back together, and in one smooth motion, he guided the swing, sending the ball flying down to the bottom of the field. I watched it soar, feeling a rush of excitement at how far it went.
“Do you feel better about it now?” Matt asked, his voice still low, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.
“Yeah, it’s a little less scary now” I admitted, smiling up at him as he stepped back.
With my newfound confidence, I picked up another golf ball and placed it on the tee. Matt walked back to his seat, and I focused on the ball, trying to replicate what Matt had shown me. I took the same stance, swung the club the same way, and to my amazement, the ball flew straight to the furthest ring.
Everyone cheered in unison, and I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “That’s the girl!” I heard Matt yell from behind me, his voice full of encouragement. My cheeks flushed at his praise, but I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
I took my last two turns, each time sending the ball further than the last. Every time I hit a good shot, the group cheered, and Matt’s voice always seemed to stand out above the rest. After my final shot, I put the club back in its slot and turned around to see Matt standing there with a big grin. He held up both his hands, and I gave him a double high five, our palms smacking together in a satisfying way.
We both sat down, still buzzing from the game. Matt and I started chatting, the conversation flowing easily between us. It felt good, natural, like we’d been friends forever. Before I knew it, the hour was up, and the game was over.
Nate won by a country mile, with Chris and Matt tying for second. I won’t mention where the rest of us ended up, but let’s just say it was clear who the pros were in this group.
‘Time to cough that 100 bucks up Matt.’ Nate teased.
As we all started gathering our things, Chris groaned. “Ugh, I’m not ready to go home yet. Can we do something else?”
“We could all go for a walk on the beach?” Nate suggested, his tone casual, but the idea sounded perfect to me.
Nick lit up at the suggestion. “Fucking brilliant idea, Nate.”
Matt looked over at me, almost as if he was checking to see if I’d be up for it. Our eyes met, and I gave him a reassuring smile. “The beach sounds nice. I love the beach at night.”
With that, the plan was set. We all piled back into Matt’s car, the mood even more relaxed and happy than before. I slid into the back seat next to Nick again, feeling the cool night air on my face as we drove toward the beach.
It had been a fun night so far, but something told me that the best part was still to come.
a/n : i wasn't going to post this until sunday but here you goooooo (but now you have to wait until sunday for the next part lol)
warnings: use of y/n, mentions of alcohol, slight cursing, there’s one slightly creepy side character (brief), mention of throw up, very short
summary: Nick and his best friend always find themselves playing truth or dare.
—
“Truth or dare?” Nick asks mischievously, looking between you and the food court. You just ran into an old crush from high school and Nick saw this as the perfect opportunity to help you finally shoot your shot. The two of you are currently at the mall, wandering around to kill some time. After entering every single store, you decided to head over to the food court where you ran into your old crush, Abraham.
You, of course, know Nick’s up to no good and reply with, “Nick, please. Not here.” Over the years the two of you have developed a truth or dare system that had only 4 rules.
1. You must answer every truth HONESTLY
2. Complete EVERY dare no matter what
3. You can’t back down, no matter the place or time
4. You can’t pick the same answer twice in a row.
You trusted Nick enough not to cross any major boundaries when playing this game, but the rules did add an extra element of anxiety. “Thems the rules. Truth or dare?” He asks again, the biggest shit eating grin on his face. You two sit at a random table in the food court, Nick’s eyes trained on Abraham from afar. If he loses sight of him, the whole game will be ruined.
Right now you wish you two never made up those stupid rules. Why couldn’t you two just play the game like regular people? “Truth,” you finally answer. If he’s going to make you do something stupid you might as well stall. He rolls his eyes, he knows what you’re doing. “Fine. Is it true that you still have a crush on that guy?” Nick points briefly in Abraham’s direction causing you to crane your neck so you can catch a glimpse of him. As if on cue, Abraham turns to meet your gaze. You immediately turn back towards Nick in embarrassment, “it’s true that I don’t want to play this game right now.”
Nick laughs at your answer and at the fact that you just got caught staring at your crush. You two were grown adults so that made this even funnier. “Yes, I still have a crush on him,” you finally answer quietly. Nick claps in excitement, he knew this was the perfect time to play this game.
“Okay, truth or dare?” He asks again quickly, watching as Abraham begins leaving the food court. “No bitch, it’s my turn! Truth or dare?” Nick groans, there’s no time for this!
“Truth,” he answers rapidly, he wants to choose dare but he knows you’ll make him do something so stupid that Abraham will be gone by then. “Is it true that you are a piece of shit and the worst friend ever!” you ask with your arms crossed over your chest. He glares at you as he replies, “Yes. Sure. Whatever.”
Nick gets up abruptly from the table and ushers you to do the same, Abraham was literally walking out of the mall. “Okay, Y/n. Truth or dare?” According to the rules you couldn’t pick truth even if you wanted to, so you’re really annoyed that he finds it necessary to pose the question each time. He looks at you expectantly, both of you still following closely behind Abraham in the crowded mall. “Dare, Nick. Like I have any other choice,” you reply with an eye roll.
“Go get his number,” he instructs, pushing you in the direction Abraham was disappearing into. There’s no point in fighting it when rule number 2 clearly states that you must complete every dare no matter what. “I fucking hate you,” you grumble as you begin a light jog in Abraham’s direction.
The idea of the dare is always more embarrassing than the dare itself. When you finally reach Abraham the conversation actually comes naturally. You don’t even have to ask for his number because he asks for yours firs, but you have him write his on a piece of paper so Nick can’t say you didn’t complete the job.
You walk back to Nick with the biggest smirk on your face, wiggling the piece of paper in his face. “Don’t fucking try me, bitch. I didn’t even have to ask for it,” you say, holding the piece of paper like it was an outstanding award. He rolls his eyes at you, only slightly shocked that you managed to pull it off.
“I did you a favor with that dare,” he comments with another eye roll as he begins to walk back to the food court. You follow closely behind as you reply, “truth or dare?” You watch as he halts abruptly and turns to face you.
“What? No. We’re done playing.”
You tsk at his response, “Nope. You asked me twice, now it’s my turn. So, truth or dare?” Nick stares at you blankly, realizing that there’s no escape. “Dare,” he crosses his arms over his chest proudly in an attempt to tell you that he’s unafraid of what you’re going to have him do.
Deep down he knows you’re going to make him do something stupid. So, as he waits for your dare, he wishes you two never made up those stupid rules.
—
Sweaty bodies and loud house music fill the atmosphere as you and Nick weave your way through the crowd. You’re leading the way, holding onto Nick’s hand so he won’t get lost in the array of drunk people. Nick and his brothers were never drinkers, so they were always bored at these things. Sometimes you wondered why they even bothered showing to these parties in the first place.
You’re currently looking for Matt and Chris, who are surely as bored you and Nick are. You’re a little tipsy, usually you’d get super drunk, but you didn’t want to be babysat all night. “They’re probably outside,” you yell to Nick over the loud music, still weaving in and out of the crowd. Nick attempts to read tour lips, but it’s hard when the house is so dark and the music is so loud. “I love this song!” he shouts back, bopping his head to the beat. He didn’t hear a single word you said, he’s just letting himself be led blindly through this busy house.
Finally you find Matt and Chris outside talking with some of their friends. Most of them are boys, but a few of girls are scattered here and there. Matt is leaned against the fence, a red solo up in hand. Chris is standing next to him, a soda can resting firmly in his grip. They look so bored, they’re honestly waiting for the perfect moment to excuse themselves and just go home.
Nick is the first to speak once you two approach them, “Matt, this party is boring. Let’s leave.” His voice is hushed so only Matt can hear him, causing Matt to lean into Nick slightly. Apparently he wasn’t quiet enough because a girl, who stood near Chris and Matt the whole night, heard this and whined, “Noooo, you guys can’t leave yet! The party’s just getting started!”
The four of you send her a weird look, not to be mean but because her insertion into the conversation was unwarranted. She had been following Matt and Chris around drunkenly all night in attempts to catch one of their attention, but it hasn’t worked yet. “C’mon we can play a game or something! OOOO SPIN THE BOTT- NO TRUTH OR DARE!” she continues, her drunken words slightly slurring.
You and Nick share knowing looks, there’s no way you’re going to play truth or dare at a party full of drunk idiots, especially not with the rules you guys have. “Umm no, we’re okay,” Nick replies in a passive aggressive tone before turning back to his brothers. You’re still look at the girl, watching as she desperately tries to come up with a way to get you all to stay. You kind of feel bad and speak without thinking, “we can play one game, right guys?”
Nick’s head snaps towards you. He sends you a tight lipped glare, signaling that you just said something stupid and he didn’t agree with your decision. “What? She looks so sad that we’re leaving,” you whisper, attempting to defend yourself and the poor girl who’s now drunkenly gathering a group of people for this game of truth or dare. “Bitch, you know how we play! We can’t play like that here! What if someone dares us to do something really bad,” Nick whisper yells back. You’re about to tell her never mind and make an excuse as to why you urgently need to leave, but there’s no turning back now. The girl from before has now gathered a group of around 10 people and is watching you all expectantly.
“It’ll be fine,” you reply quickly as you grab Nick’s hand and drag him to the circle of people. Matt and Chris share a look before following behind you two. They always found themselves roped into whatever trouble you and Nick were causing.
Due to everyone else’s drunken state, the game escalated very quickly. The dares started getting weird and the truths started becoming too personal.
“Okay, Y/n. Truth or dare?” a random guy asks. “Dare,” you sigh, taking a small sip of your drink. This game was slowly becoming boring for you. You had already kissed a stranger, chugged a few beers, raced a random guy, and you even jumped in the pool. You had done so many dares at this point that there was surely nothing left for you to do.
“I dare you to kiss me,” he says menacingly, a stupid smirk on his face. Yawn, so boring. This guy was known to be a jerk, he was constantly getting into fights or instigating them. Not to mention that he was a creep, he flirted with girls left and right and always took it too far. He was the last person you wanted to kiss, but you weren’t going to decline the dare. “Whatever,” you mumble, going in for a quick peck.
As soon as you try pulling away, his hands grab ahold of your face and hold you firmly in place. You try pushing him off of you, but he won’t budge. Instead he holds you so tight that the kiss becomes rough and you can feel his teeth. Nick notices how aggressive the guy is being, but he can’t tell if you’re uncomfortable or if the kiss is just getting heated so he doesn’t speak up. Your eyes shoot open in shock and disgust, who the fuck does this guy think he is? You’re finally able to shove him back by his shoulders, shouting a “get off, creep!” before standing abruptly. You decide you’re done playing and signal to Nick that you want to leave.
Nick senses your distress and pulls Chris and Matt with him out of the circle. “We gotta go, sorry,” Nick says quickly, motioning for his brothers to follow you out of the party. The girl from earlier tries making another excuse for you all to stay, but they’re not hearing it. Nick’s best friend senses are tingling, he knows something’s bothering you and when something’s wrong nothing else matters.
They meet you in the front yard near their car. Nick notices that you’re not crying, which is good, but you’re clearly upset. “What happened?” he immediately asks. You give him a dumbfounded look, did he not see you struggling to get that creep off of you?
“That creep, bro. He dared me to kiss him and then wouldn’t let go,” you reply, slurring your words a little. The beers you chugged were beginning to catch up to you. Matt and Chris got in the car, deciding to let you and Nick speak in private. “Dude, I told you we couldn’t play that game here,” Nick scolds, a sassy hand on his hip. Of course he felt bad that you just got harassed by a random guy, but in his defense he did warn you. You glare at him, this was no time for an ‘I told you so’ moment.
You’re about to quip back with a smart remark, but a loud burp erupts from your stomach. It was so loud it even shocked you. The beers from earlier were starting to catch up to you. You felt your stomach twist and turn, a wave of nausea suddenly washing over you.
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you warn rapidly, holding onto your stomach and covering your mouth. You burp again, the taste of beer lingering in the back of your throat. “So dumb,” Nick mumbles, holding your hair for you as you hunch over. Everything about this situation was stupid to Nick. If you had just listened to him in the first place you wouldn’t be in this mess.
“We need to stop playing this damn game,” Nick comments, turning his head away from you as you vomit dramatically. He can’t believe the night is ending with his best friend throwing up outside of a house party all because of a game of truth or dare.
This game was sure to get you into some serious trouble one day, especially with the rules you two used. Knowing you and Nick, though, you’d probably still keep playing anyways.
—
MASTERLIST
A/n:
sorry it took so long, I was writing a diff Nick story originally but scrapped it. So I had to start over. Hope u enjoy😋
if you guys have any requests please message me or leave an anonymous message! Don’t be shy! I’ll do my best to write them all 🫶🏻
