Leon Kennedy x ftm reader. Man is just eating you out like he’s starved and dehydrated. As always, this is 18+ not meant for minors! Eh, hope this is good. Dick and entrance are used in this… uhh squirting. Yeah.
“Eyes on me, don’t look away, darlin’” Leon grumbled, his words muffled by the hot flesh between your thighs as he lavishly lapped and sucked on.
You were sprawled out on the table, legs spread wide open with Leon in between them. You whined and cried softly, attempting to not look away from the man pleasuring you but also the man who’s denying you an orgasm.
Leon gave special attention to your throbbing dick; licking it, sucking on it, even giving soft nibbles that sent shockwaves all over your body. His tongue would lap around your entrance, drinking the essences between moving further down to tease your tight asshole — rimming the ring of muscles before moving back to your entrance and dick. His slight stubble rubbing against the skin of your thighs and dick, adding a fuzzy feeling.
“Please… let me cum… wanna cum…” You cried softly, begging Leon to give you the sweet release you’ve been craving — aching — for! The man had already ruined two previous orgasms by pulling away. You could see the evil, satisfying grin on his face before he dived back into your thigh to continue his attacks.
Leon didn’t respond as he was too focused on your dick. Nibbling and sucking on the swollen thing. “Should I?” Using the essences your entrance produced, Leon lathered his fingers with the substance and slid them into your tight ass.
You cried and screamed in pleasure, thrusting your hips into Leon’s face and rolling them in his face. The man grunts as he grounds your hips, wrapping his one of muscular arms around your waist and yanking you closer to him. “H-holy shit… oh god…” you were starting to feel dizzy, your head spinning with thoughts that you couldn’t comprehend. Your toes curled up, thighs squeezing Leon’s head, fingers digging into the wooden desk.
“L-Leon…” You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. All you could was tremble and moan as the older man hit all of your pressure points. His fingers stretch your ass opened, his attention then moving to your entrance while his thumb squeezed and rubbed your swollen dick.
Leon wasn’t going to give up until his boyfriend was crying and shaking from his ministrations. The older man was lost in the sauce, ignoring his throbbing cock as he sped his movement. The tacky, wet sounds of your holes filled the room. The familiar tension returned; the tingling sensation in your stomach began. The older man was determined to bring you to a full orgasm.
“G-gonna cum…” you whined. Your back arching and hands finding Leon’s head, digging your nails into the man’s scalp. You turned away for just a second, but the older man didn’t care. He wants to taste you, see you collapse into a mess, hear you scream his name as you cum for him.
Leon grew relentless. Not stopping for one bit. The pleasure so good, so intense that it hurts, burning hot, but Leon refuses to let you go. The older man could feel your entrance spasming and clenching… your asshole clenching around his fingers…
Shaking and spasming, you let out one last scream — screaming Leon’s name. Crying his name with every breathe as the words devolved into short babbles and cries. The world turned white as the rushing feeling finally released — pent up after being edged for hours. Your holes pulsing as stream after stream shooting obscenely out of your entrance, soaking Leon. The older man didn’t pull back but latched his mouth, wanting every drop of you.
You choked, withered, and groaned, relieved that it was over… sadly. The corners of your eyes blurred, tears welding in your eyes as you collapsed against the hard surface. You couldn’t breathe, it was too powerful. The world then went dark.
“Hey, you alright?” Leon asked after a couple of minutes. There was no response from you as he got up from his position. You had passed out. The older man felt pride swell in his mind, knowing that he brought you to such an orgasm. No one else, not another man could bring you to an orgasm like that.
𓏲𝄢 𝓬𝔀 — ⚥ infidelity, dry humping, colonel caleb’s moral compass? what moral compass?
it’s one thing to be unfaithful, it’s another when he’s your husband’s superior.
“colonel..please, not here..” your warning was already ignored before you could say it as caleb’s gloved hand was already down your boxers. tender kisses littered your neck and shoulders, it wasn’t a good idea to have worn an off shoulder that day. he inhaled your scent, tasted your skin and not even your slight pushing could stop him. “no fair..he has all this and does nothing..” caleb groans smugly in your ear, you could practically see his smirk without even turning your head.
“you love this, don’t ya pips?” the name made you flinch, he was right. living in a sexless, uneventful marriage left you with more built up libedo then a man on viagra. brain melted along with all your judgement, clutching onto the kitchen counter with nowhere to run. your husband was gone for a quick errand run, he’d be back at any moment and find his spouse pressed up against the same man he took orders from.
words were barley exchanged as caleb dry humps against the plush of your ass, damn near fucking you with how hard he was. “c-colonel..please, he could be back soon!” you whimpered. “i’m just doin’ him a favor by makin’ his hubby real happy for him..” he chuckles, he knew how gross he was abusing his power like this. “besides, happy husbands make competent lieutenants.” liar, you knew that was bullshit he made up. he simply wanted a flimsy reason to nearly fuck you senseless in your own home. you could care less about what your useless husband thought at this point, maybe that’s your own flimsy reason to flatten your marriage for some colonel cock.
SYNOPSIS & WARNINGS — Satoru really wants to test your limits, to see how wet he can really make you, even if you're begging for mercy at the end of the night... slow, kinda teasing, pet names, fingering, clit slapping at the end, slick like you're in omegaverse?
MITSU'S NOTES — Maybe I do have enough motivation after all? Who knows. I just miss waking up to a ton of notes. Am I an attention whore? Possibly! Also, made my own banner . . . dunno if it looks good or not 💔 I'm a beginner at this don't boo me :(
WORD COUNT — 0.8k words
Satoru had always been curious at what your limit was, to see how wet he could truly make you become rather than fucking you and going. Not this time—this time, he was curious, and everybody knows that a curious Satoru will stop at nothing until he finds an answer he's satisfied with.
He casually walks over to the bed where you're dressed up all comfortable in your pajamas, doom scrolling to the high heavens, not noticing that Satoru had appeared until his weight causes the bed to sink and fluctuate. Satoru lays on his side, one hand propping his head up while his other hand rests on your upper thigh with that same stupid smirk he always donned whenever he really wanted something—or someone.
"Hey, sweet thing," Satoru's acting all sweet, which right off the bat, makes you very suspicious at what his intentions were. You place your phone on the nightstand. As much as you were suspicious, you were curious. "Can you help me figure something out?" His fingers trace to the waistband of your pajama shorts, slowly pulling them down—teasing.
"Do you know how wet you can really get?" It's too dirty for a tone that sugar-sweet, but it sways you anyway. Your cheeks heat up, heart rate quickening while swallowing saliva that had pooled in your mouth as your shorts reach your knees. You stutter for an answer, grasping at straws to try and find the right words that wouldn't result in you getting bent over no matter how appealing that may have seemed. "I— I don't really— um… no?" Satoru can only grin at your stuttering response, adjusting himself to loom over you, lifting your legs to take your shorts fully off.
"Don't rush, sweet boy, take your time." Each word that slipped out of Satoru's lips made your words tumble out like a car crash. What was Satoru doing? It's like you've been hypnotized! In fact, you were so distracted, you hadn't noticed Satoru's fingers tracing your pulsing clit and feeling the gentle slick that coated your boxers. He seemed to study your pussy and how it reacted to his fingers, making small hums whenever he rubbed right over your throbbing clit. Satoru can basically taste your desperation, how it burned in your veins and burst out in pure lust.
Finally, finally, he takes your sticky boxers off, watching him gawk at the small strings of slick between the black fabric and your hot cunt. You whimper at the cool air hitting your clit, the soft noise evolving into a high whine as Satoru's fingers spread open your labia, exposing more of your pussy to coax more pretty whines out of you. His fingers trace down your slit, marveling at the wetness that coats his fingers. Satoru leans over to press kisses to your collarbone and neck, pushing two fingers in and letting out a short chuckle as the noise of your wet pussy and you mixing together, savouring the feeling of your hot, velvety walls squeezing his fingers.
"So wet… wet f'me?" Satoru coos in your ear as his fingers slowly pump in and out, grazing your g-spot with each push and pull of his fingers while your pussy drips down onto the sheets while you weakly nod, broken syllables come rushing out of your lips as your hips lift and push against him. "Uhh— uhuhh…" Your head is thrown back as Satoru's fingers curl juuust right deep inside, pressing against that spot just beyond your g-spot. Satoru bites his bottom lip as you tighten obscenely around his fingers, throbbing in his sweatpants as he imagines if it was his cock inside instead of his fingers. He has no time to dwell on that thought, your sticky slickness dripping and coating his fingers and knuckles in a light sheen that has him falling in love with you all over again.
You huff and whine, chest rising and falling as sensitivity builds in your clit while Satoru sticks in a third finger to really make you feel everything. "S— Satoru," His name comes out a pitch higher than you intended, yet in the moment, you didn't care. "Gonna cum… gonna cu—cum!" Your words set off alarms in Satoru's head, causing him to lean in real close to your neck, fitting his face in the crevice between your jaw and collarbone while muttering out obscenities that make you flush and moan.
"Mhm? G'nna cum from my fingers?" His words hit like a truck as your sensitivity reaches its peak. Your whine comes out high, bucking your hips to catch more of that friction. Satoru yanks his fingers out of your wet, hot hole, letting his palm down on your clit, sending jolts of pain and pleasure that melted in your body like syrup in a candy factory as your high is extended — courtesy of Satoru
Your breathing eventually slows, the rise and fall of your chest becoming deeper, gentler, while Satoru lays his head on your shoulder, staring at his now pruned fingers which still have a fresh coating of your wetness. "You can get really wet… that's so hot…" Satoru leans his head up to stare at you, and you're back on your phone, making him let out a needy whine. After all, he was horny and needed taking care of next . . .
Summary: Spencer’s back from an extended case, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in his husband.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Ftm!Reader
Word Count: 1k
Tags/Warnings: established consent, somnophilia, Spencer is a little pathetic but in a good way, quickie
Unspoken rules are something Spencer hates, he doesn’t like when things are implied— things that are somehow preprogrammed into what feels like everyone but him. It’s why he likes you— loves you. You’re blunt, you tell him what you want, and if he asks, you go into detail. And you expect him to be the same way with you, neither of you are people who need to be coddled, an FBI field agent and a crime scene cleaner are two of the most desensitized people.
So when you woke up one night, hearing noises coming from the bathroom and assuming someone was stealing your… skincare, you nearly shot Spencer while he was in the middle of rubbing one out. You apologized and he was no longer horny, just a little scared. He explained, he was horny but you were asleep and it would’ve been rude to wake you up just because he wanted to have sex. It’s then that this arrangement came about.
He kicks his shoes off, tossing his back onto the couch, his sweater onto the chair in the kitchen. Button up in the doorway, belt on the dresser, and then pants on the small chair in a corner. That part was a little difficult with the tent in his pants.
There are three signs he needs to look for, which you jokingly call them the traffic lights. The first one was the sock on the doorknob— check. The second was the lamp in the corner, the red one had to be down— check. The third was the most obvious: you’re in bed without clothes on— check.
He remembers the first couple of times all of the boxes were ticked, he was so afraid that he still went into the bathroom or woke you up until you reassured him. The three things together were an enthusiastic yes. So, he grabs a condom from the dresser and rolls it onto his dick along with some lube before stalking over to the bed.
Carefully, because it was a long flight and his limbs hurt, he climbs into bed, settling on his knees between your legs. You’re flat on your stomach, one leg raised while the other is straight out, a pillow curled between your head and arm. You’re not snoring, so you’re not fully asleep, but your breathing is shallow enough that you don’t know he’s home yet. His hand reaches out, palming your ass before he sighs and inches closer.
Grabbing his already hard dick, he lines himself up with you and slowly sinks inside. A low moan rumbles through him— shit, he’s missed this feeling. He’s not even fully inside yet and he’s already letting out small, needy moans. “Please,” His begs are quiet, as if you’d wake up and make him feel even better. You always do.
As he bottoms out, he kisses along your back, feeling you stir underneath him but you don’t wake up. His hips rock into your ass, slow but deliberate strokes that make you whine in your sleep. A part of him, a selfish part, wants you to wake up. But he wants you to get your sleep, too. He knows you’ve been up for so long, probably working on a scene he’ll hear about in the morning.
“You feel so good,” Without truly meaning to, he speeds up, a soft slapping noise echoing in the room each time he thrusts inside of you. Now you’re stirring more, sighing into your pillow, mouth almost permanently agape. “Mm— so good— so good,” His glasses fall from his nose and he quickly apologizes, hurriedly setting them on the nightstand.
He’s so tired that when he tries to go back to his original position, he can’t and lets himself lie on top of you. You’re cold against his warm skin, body so relaxed as he’s starting to fuck desperately into you. He’s sure that this will be the thing to wake you up, his breathy moans against your ear, the whimpers of what could be words slipping into your dreams as he fucks you sloppy.
Your legs shift, lowering and he hisses at the sudden pressure around his cock before grabbing your leg to pull it back up. That still doesn’t wake you, but he can tell he’s almost at that point, your face keeps scrunching and you’re starting to mumble. Not sleep talking but also nothing coherent either. He’s growing more tired, eyes too heavy to properly thrust so he instead shifts his whole body, slowly pushing his dick in and out of your wet hole. The sounds are slow, the moans broken between pants and half-understandable words.
Fucking into you that way, he bites down on his lip, holding back an incredibly desperate moan. He hates it when he’s away for so long, he can never last long enough. But he guesses that’s a good thing, considering he really doesn’t want to wake you. With one good burst of energy he picks up his pace. Like a rabbit, he hammers into you until he feels the condom filling up.
Panting, he first rolls over to his side of the bed, eyes already closing before he works on taking the condom off without spilling and ties it off as best as he can, tossing it in the direction of the trash can.
“Hun?” Your voice is a mixture of raspy and moany. Slowly, your head turns to him and you smile before lying your face back into the pillow, watching him with barely lidded eyes. “Had fun?”
He nods, leaning over to kiss your nose. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry, baby,” Through the half shrug half nod, you smile again.
“Mm, ‘ont worry, it's fine. Changed my dream though, thanks, it was boring as fuck,” Wrapping your arms around him, you sigh into his neck and quickly fall asleep again. He shakes his head, wondering when he’ll be able to fall asleep that fast before trying, resting his head on top of yours.
⚠︎humping/ riding a bicep, civil war didn't happen, I didn't know how to make it work with the story⚠︎
☢︎︎Minors and girls do not interact☢︎︎
☞︎︎︎Y/n got confident and shot his shot. Turns out it was the best damn decision he could've made. ☜︎︎
✍︎ 1756
Y/n wasn't new in the compound.
He wasn't an Avenger, but he was working with them. You could say he was something like an intern who fought Hydra and aliens as his side job.
However, Bucky is new.
He was freed from Hydra by his old best friend, Steve Rogers.
He was currently waiting for the Wakandans to take him in so he could get rid of his trigger words. But they're a bit busy at the moment, so Bucky is left here. Waiting. He would complain if it weren't for y/n. The soldier grew a liking for the man.
Knowing that a man liking a man isn't something to be ashamed of anymore, he doesn't worry about hiding it in front of Steve.
He actually asks Steve about y/n a lot. Regarding his schedule, his personality, and so on.
Bucky has nothing to do because he's not allowed to go on missions. He is left to wander the halls like a ghost. So he did. He practically mapped out the whole compound before he found the gym training room.
Which was exactly what he needed. A little distraction. He immediately found his way to the boxing bags and started punching.
It didn't take much for him to lose track of time. But the moment he noticed the deep, dark sweat spot on his red Henley shirt made him realize how long he's been here. "Shit." He cursed quietly under his breath and lifted his arm to check his pits. Big dark circles as well. He let out a huff. He didn't want to stop, but he also didn't want to get changed. So he decided to just take off his two shirts.
His body was left on display as he threw the cloth aside. He immediately got to punching again. This boxing bag was clearly made for supersoldiers, considering it hasn't torn yet.
More hours passed, but this time, Bucky stopped because he felt watched. He wiped his forehead and looked around. He was right. A very familiar figure was watching him from the dark doorway.
"Enjoying the show, y/n?" He asked before facing the bag again. As he threw more punches, he couldn't suppress the flutter in his stomach at the knowledge that y/n is watching him.
When he doesn't get an answer from y/n, he stops boxing. He looks at the man in the doorway. "Um... Did you need something?" Bucky asks. He's suddenly feeling very nervous.
Y/n finally made a move. He slowly walked towards the shirtless soldier. He didn't bother hiding his wandering eyes. The soldier felt uneasy.
"I was just admiring the view." Y/n finally spoke up and looked into the soldier's eyes.
Bucky shifted on his feet. Even though he was taller than the man in front of him, he still felt small. Cornered. "Did you like it?" He asked quietly.
"I did," Y/n confirmed as he gave a soft nod. His eyes started to wander. The soldier shifted and looked at his body as well.
"Something wrong?" He asked. He started to feel insecure. He feels like he gained weight.
"You're very beefy." Y/n's bluntness surprised the soldier. "Beefy?" Bucky questioned. He was confused. Is that bad? Or is it a compliment? "Yes, beefy. Big boy." Y/n murmured and bit his lip.
"...Is that good?" Bucky asked quietly. "Oh, yes. So good." The man almost sounded breathless.
The soldier blushes. His chest flexed without him realizing. It was only when y/n's eyes didn't move anywhere else but his chest that Bucky realized. His blush deepened. "You really like staring, huh?" He asked. He doesn't know why he's so shy. He's the former Winter Soldier! He was the one whose stare made people squirm!
"What do you want?" The soldier huffed. Was he annoyed? Frustrated? Maybe both. But he couldn't deny the heat pooling in his abdomen.
"Do you like guys?" Y/n asked as he forced his eyes away. The soldier's eyes widened. His brain blacked out as he stared at the man in front of him. He eventually found his voice. "I... I might..." He whispered.
"Would you be interested in me?" Y/n asked quietly, as if he were nervous as well. The soldier gasped and looked over the man's face. "Yes." He breathed out.
Y/n's eyes widened. He stepped closer and placed his hands on Bucky's belly. "Can I kiss you?" He asked as he leaned in. Bucky's breath hitched. His blush returned, but his hands grabbed onto the man's hips. "Please..." He pleaded quietly.
Their lips met in a soft kiss. Bucky didn't know how to react. Should he deepen the kiss? Part his lips? Pull back for air? But before he could decide, he felt y/n's hands on his chest. The soldier gasped and deepened the kiss. He could feel his pecks getting squeezed.
His own hands squeezed y/n's hips. He pulled him closer. Y/n's hands didn't take long before they started to wander. They traced every muscle they could feel. Bucky noticed that the man focused on his biceps. The flesh one the most.
Bucky pulled back for air. He rested his forehead against y/n's as he took deep breaths. "You really like my biceps, huh?" He breathed out and flexed his bicep.
Y/n bit his lip and looked at the bicep. "They look very rideable."
The soldier practically choked on air. His eyes grew wide. "What?" He laughed. "Rideable?" He wanted to laugh again, but when he saw the genuine lust in y/n's eyes, he realized y/n was serious.
"You want to ride my bicep?" Bucky asked. He cupped the man's jaw and made him look up. "Tell me." He ordered.
Y/n gave a nod. "I do want to ride your bicep." He whispered and squeezed Bucky's flesh bicep. The soldier got hard immediately. He lifted the man up by his thighs and kissed him. He carried him to the nearest mat before lowering him down onto it.
They wasted no time and stripped immediately. Bucky didn't even flinch at the reveal of y/n's body. He didn't know, but he didn't care. He just sees him. His mouth trails down Y/n's neck and towards his chest. Especially the scars that shape his chest.
"You look like you feel and taste so fucking good." The soldier practically growled as he looked over the man's body like a wolf tracking its prey.
Y/n gasped when he felt cold metal fingers slide against his cunt. "Fuck-!" He gasped out at the cold feeling as his back arched from surprise. Bucky chuckled and lifted the hand up to see how it glistened with y/n's arousal.
The smaller man blushed and shifted. His thighs rubbed together in an attempt to relieve some of the need.
Bucky noticed and gently grasped the man's thighs to spread them. "None of that." He said as he settled between the thighs. Y/n gasped and grabbed onto the soldier's shoulders.
"What are you doing?" Y/n asked with a shaky voice. Bucky leaned in and whispered. "Don't worry, you'll get to ride my bicep. I just want to savor you for now." His words sent a shiver through the smaller man
The soldier pulled the man into a hungry kiss. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies. One of Bucky's hands moved down to circle y/n's clit.
Y/n gasped. His arms clung to the soldier's arms. "You trying to make me sensitive first?" He questioned through a moan. The soldier smirked before he sucked a mark on the man's collarbone. "That's exactly what I want."
So Bucky only focused on stimulating the smaller man's clit. The sounds y/n made were like music to Bucky's ears. But the moment he felt the man's body twitch in his arms, he decided it was time.
He let go of him and rolled onto his back. He spread out his right arm and looked at y/n with a challenging look.
When y/n wrapped his head around the situation, he immediately sat up. He ignored the soft buzzing on his clit from it still recovering after the constant rubbing. His eyes trailed over the soldier's arm, especially the bicep. He licked his lips and crawled closer.
The man slowly lifted one leg over and positioned himself over the soldier's bicep. He looked at the soldier for confirmation before he sat on the round muscle.
He started to move his hips forward and then back, as if he were riding a horse. It took a bit before he found the perfect angle that rubbed his clit against the biceps perfectly.
Both men moaned, but for different reasons. Y/n moaned because it felt good, and Bucky moaned because it felt strange with feeling y/n's arousal on his bicep.
"Does it feel good?" Bucky asked as he watched y/n's cunt humping his bicep. Y/n immediately nodded. "It's like riding a thigh just smaller." He explained as if Bucky should know how that feels.
Bucky chuckled and reached up with his metal arm to cup y/n's cheek. "Whatever you say, handsome." He teased and pulled the man down for a kiss.
Y/n moaned. His hips started to roll faster. "Fuck..." He cursed under his breath. He forced his eyes open so he could look over Bucky's body. His eyes landed on the soldier's hard cock that was resting on his abdomen.
Bucky noticed his stare, so he decided to wrap his metal hand around his dick and stroke it at the same pace y/n's hips were moving. The smaller man was mesmerized. He watched how the soldier's hands moved.
The moment Bucky flexed his bicep, y/n lost it. He grinds his hips harder until his thighs start to tremble with his upcoming climax.
"I'm coming." He warned before he gripped the mat beside Bucky's head. Bucky could feel how slick his bicep became and came over his hand and stomach.
Y/n collapsed onto the mat. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He suddenly got yanked down by his ankle until he was lying beside the soldier.
Bucky pulled the man onto his side to wrap both arms around him. The other man chuckled and got comfortable.
They lay together in silence for what felt like forever before Bucky spoke up. "Was this just a one-time thing?" He asked quietly. He doesn't want it to be a one-time thing.
"No." Y/n's answer made the soldier relax.
"Good." Bucky hummed before standing up and carrying the man to the gym showers.
They showered together as they discussed what would happen next.
── .✦ restless dreams • james sunderland x ftm!reader • 2.7k words
── .✦ warnings : ftm reader (use of pussy, cunt, clit, etc), bottom!reader, top!james, sadism, blood is drawn at one point, general rough treatment, reader is james' affair partner, reader is in on it too, they're both bad people, based on the remake james rather than the original, condom breaking, creampie, biting/marking, reader is implied to be a bit feminine, generally unhealthy relationship, pre-silent hill james
── .✦ authors notes : i started replaying silent hill 2 remake again and immediately had..... thoughts :3
A rolling crackle follows through the sky, guided by the light strikes that came beforehand. Thunderstorms over the evening, is what the forecaster on the tv speaks to you, along with a variety of other jargon that you don’t care to listen to. Most of your nights are spent like this, lounging over your sofa, body melting into the cushions like butter in a pan, drowning in cheap perfume and whatever fruity little drink you’ve gotten in your hands, fingers clasping the glass cup as you swirl it around. Your legs cross, taking a drink with a gentle gulping noise- and that is when you hear it, a pathetic knock at the door, one you’ve come to recognize.
You set it down, feeling the condensation from the cup wet your palm, and you gently rub it over your shirt to dry it- but the chill remains. Carefully padding over to the door, you click open the two locks you’ve had to put in- and he’s standing there, like he always does- eyes misty, pupils blown out. James. He’s been coming around like this for a while, always under the cover of night, always after he can’t take it anymore. You weren’t meant to be this for him, just a pretty little thing he met in a bar after the hospital got to be too much. But then he took you home, then he had you in the marital bed he wasn’t supposed to share. He didn’t take you to his house after that, always choosing your place instead- it made the guilt lessen up just a bit.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I know it’s late,” James looked down, his hair shiny from the shower the rain gave him, “I just got done at the hospital and I…”
You sigh and lean in, shiny lips twisting up as you guide him in with painted fingers, tugging his coat softly, “It’s okay, baby.”
You aren’t a good person, you know that by now. Sleeping around with a married man is one thing, but a married man whose wife is deathly ill? It’s impossibly sick of you. Yet, you never stop yourself, your hands brushing through his hair, nails raking over his scalp. You’d never even heard of her, let alone saw her. Although you heard of James before, the husband whose just ‘so strong’ for staying with his wife during all this. Would they say that if they knew the truth? Probably not.
“Do you want some leftovers, or something?” You purr, watching as he takes off his coat, hanging it by the door with the same politeness as any usual visitor, like you were still just acquaintances. You nod your head towards the fridge, although your eyes stay on the muscle of his biceps, hidden under a white button-up.
James shakes his head, a solemn look on his face like it was carved there, “No. Not right now.” He steps closer, his own hand coming up now, landing on your waist, squeezing- trying to just make sure you’re real, you’re something he truly can have, “I think… I just want you, right now.”
And he gets you.
Falling into the bedding, your arms fall out at your sides like the wings of an angel, hands loosely grabbing at the air above. It swallows you, and James is looming above, the first few buttons of his shirt messily undone from your own need. Shadows fall over his eyes, his mouth in something between a scowl and a frown. He never knew why you were so alluring to him. You’re not his usual type, not by a long shot. He’s over forty, going after you, a twenty-something boy like a lion to a gazelle. You’re everything Mary isn’t, everything she can’t be- not right now.
“James…” You whine, looking up at him, the lightning from outside giving a sparkle to your eyes, you lay your head back, “Come ‘ere.”
He follows the ask, his eyes fluttering shut slightly as your hands grasp at his sleeves, rubbing over his biceps and up to his shoulders. His adams apple bobs, stubble overgrown just a bit, almost spikey as your hands come to his jaw, cradling him like he’s porcelain. Finally, you pull him forward, lips melding together. He groans into the kiss, pushing against it, your head hitting the bed again.
His own, rougher palms come up to your hips, fingers clawing into the fabric of your bottoms. Finally, just as the burning in his lungs becomes too much, and his throat aches, he pulls away. Saliva connects your lips, a thin string. He swallows thickly, snapping the strings, “God… you’re so…”
The words don’t come to him, his mind already falling back into that nice floaty place. Dissociation is bliss, at least a temporary one. Even though, in the back of his mind, he can still picture the hospital room, and his wife, her sickening breathing rasping behind his ears like a ghost. As if to hide from it, he presses his face into the crook of your neck, biting at the pure skin, far from the blistering and irritated skin he’s so used to staring at. His hips buck, as if instinctively reacting to the warmth of your body, your legs curling around his waist.
“Oh- please, baby,” A pathetic moan leaves your parted lips, his hands tightening as your breathy whimpers fall past his eardrums.
“Fuck…” James curses, pushing your shirt up, his warm hands tracing up to your chest, over the scars from your top surgery, nails digging into them and leaving small crescent indents.
Kissing over the top of his head, you squirm ever so slightly, attempting to further rub against the bulge in his jeans, your toes curling at the pressure, constantly pushing. It’s something you had to learn rather quickly: James can never be as soft as you’d want him to be. He makes it obvious, manhandling you, his hands falling back to your waistband. His fingers curl over your shorts and underwear, tugging at it until it also abides by his rules. Immediately, he tosses them to the floor, pushing your thighs apart, hooking his palms underneath your knees and folding you without much care for the breathless gasp that leaves you.
“Hm..” He hums, looking down over you, eyes falling to your cunt. It’s a dripping maw, clenching over nothing- as if greeting him home once more. He nearly cums then and there, a curious thumb landing on your clit, pressing down just to see how your wriggle underneath him.
“James! Ah, you.. not there-” Your eyelids flutter, lashes falling over your cheekbones, yet you lean into the touch- and he practically growls seeing how you respond.
He pulls away, not before dragging his thumb down, through your pink folds. A layer of slick coats his skin, a rare warmth- one he hadn’t felt in a while. His tongue, a similar pinkish tone, flicks out over his thumb, tasting you with a strange greediness. In the back of his throat, there’s a sort of growl forming, itching at his vocal cords and clawing its way through up to his lips, just vibrating there for a moment before disappearing. You just watch, eyes blown out in a similar manner, shining with a faux innocence.
“Stay like this.” He nudges you softly, moving to stretch and reach the nightstand. No need to ask anymore, he knows where you keep the lube, and the condoms- though he had been the one to push for them.
You abide, your hand reaching down to his crotch, palming his erection through his pants, “Hurry up, James.. I wanna feel you.”
“Patient.” He snaps softly, a commanding tone following it, his free hand coming to your wrist, tightly snatching it and shoving it back to you.
A mischievous smirk crosses your lips. Something in you twisted in the best way, just hearing his tone shift to that- a demand rather than the usual quiet asks. Although, you don’t act up, preferring to lean back and enjoy the show as he undoes his pants, getting them down just enough to fish his cock out, the mushroom-shaped tip spilling precum like a leaky faucet. A vein travels down, one that makes saliva build up at the base of your tongue. Maybe later, you could taste it, but it was clear James preferred something else right now.
“...You’re so…” James starts, rolling a condom over his cock with a soft whine, a spurt of lube in his palm as he jerks his cock in a stuttery pace, hips chasing the pleasure as the slick coating helps him smoothen his movements. He moans weakly, biting his bottom lip, “Dammit.”
An unintentional noise leaves you, something like a mewl and a whine, making his head flick upwards. Your face feels hot, a blush kissing at your cheeks as you pull your eyes from his crotch to his eyes, “Please, James. Need you inside me now-”
Your voice cracks, and that does it for him, his hand moving from his dick to your thighs, leaving prints of lube on your skin. He spreads you just enough, his other hand aligning himself with your sloppy hole. With a delicate movement, he pushes against your cunt, his cockhead finally popping inside. His grip on your thigh tightens, nails clawing into the plush flesh as he slowly sinks inside of you. Even after multiple meetings, fucking you in every way and position, it still feels like the first time to him. The guilt still chases the pleasure, but the way your gummy walls clench around him like a fucking vice make it all the better.
Halfway in, and you’re already moaning like a pornstar. No, you’re better than any pornstar, any of the plastic-y women that James used to get off with, always doing too much for the camera. A crack makes your voice go up a few octaves, feeling as James finally bottoms out inside of you, his balls pressing warmly over your ass. Both of James’ hands hold your thighs, looking down to see the connection with his own eyes. Skin against skin, his pubes sticky with sweat and lube, brushing against you. His hip presses against your swollen clit, leading to your head falling back and exposing your soft throat like willing prey.
“Oh my god, James!” You cry, vision blurring with unshed tears as you catch your breath, unable to fully adjust before he starts thrusting in and out, “Feels so good, fuck- fuck!”
James groans, falling over you as he lets his head land at your neck, teeth aching to bite into your skin, “You’re so good, so perfect. Just what I need.”
His thrusts are uneven, sloppy and rough as he batters your pussy. James groans, catching your throat in his mouth, scraping his teeth over you like he intends to bite down, to bite through you. Squelching surrounds you both, echoing out in tandem with the slapping noise of your bodies meeting, the head of his cock punching against your cervix uncaringly.
Memories of the hospital room and its distinct stink fall into the cloudy fog in the back of his mind, James’ focus is back to you, his dirty little secret. The only thing keeping him sane right now, even if all you were was a good fuck. It let him float back to that wonderful little emotion of mindlessness, feeling your greedy cunt clench like a fist around his cock. His jaw tightens over your throat, feeling it bob underneath as his tongue licks at you, sucking marks in his own personal masterpiece.
“James- James!” Hands end up on James’ back again, your own doing as you grab at his shirt, which still isn’t on the floor like you want it to be. Your painted nails claw the skin underneath, leaving thin red lines in his skin. You turn your head, lips fluttering over the lobe of his ear as you whisper ever so softly, “Harder, please.”
Something in him snaps, pulling his cock nearly all the way out, just leaving the tip in- drooling precum into the condom before he snaps his hips back against you. It’s a crashing noise, one that makes you think he might’ve actually broken something, but any pain that lingers is mixing with the pleasure in a downright intoxicating manner. It doesn’t help that he’s all quiet, focused on imprinting the shape of his teeth into you like you’re clay, pliant and changing.
James’ nails dig deeper, your moans dancing past his eardrums. It’s almost enough to draw blood, a few particularly deeper scrapes causing small pearls of blood to form, dotting your skin until they get too fat, and turn into droplets rolling down your thighs. The sensations all gather in your tummy, a heavy, tightly wound knot that keeps pressing harder and harder against your skin, pulsing just underneath. It’s obvious James is going through something similar, his bottom lip trembling against you, the wetness from his eyes painting your collarbones.
“Close- I’m close-” You stutter, clinging to him like a koala, dangling limply as he takes control, his pace quickening.
Nodding, he pants softly, “I know. I know. Go ahead.”
The affirmation isn’t needed, but he gives it anyway. You take it like a command, clenching around him one last time, thighs trembling as the sensations finally burst from your skin in shivers. Like every orgasm he gives you, it’s too much, nearly suffocating as he continues pounding for his own pleasure, chasing his high before caring that you’re babbling and drooling underneath him. You only get your reprieve when James’ hips stutter, finally forcing himself as deep as possible before he cums.
You aren’t supposed to feel it, not past the plastic barrier of the condom. But tonight, as the rain pitters against the window, the storm having died down to a shower, you feel it shoot inside of you. Thick spurts, sticky as it paints your insides. Clearly, James feels it too, cause he’s pulling out quicker than normal, his breath spiking as he looks down to see a particularly thick glob drool out of your puffy cunt.
“Fuck. Fuck, I didn’t- Shit!” He curses underneath his breath, cock twitching as it hangs half-hard in between his legs. The condom was a tattered mess of plastic and cum, only staying put around the base of his cock.
Your cheeks prickle. In the multiple late meetings you two had, he never came inside, not until now. Suddenly, you’re wondering why he never let himself do this before- cause it feels even better than the sensations you’d fantasized about. Swallowing back saliva, your voice finally comes to you, “It- It’s okay. Baby, I have birth control anyways-”
“That- that isn’t why I-” James cuts himself off, gnawing on his inner cheek. His eyes haven’t left how your hole drips with him. It shouldn’t make him feel like this. He promised himself, before this all started and he got in too deep, that he would at least wear a condom. He wouldn’t let himself feel you properly. That makes it real, and now? Now, it’s real. The guilt isn’t as bad as he thought it would be.
It’s silent, just shaky breathing as James ponders something you can’t read, not that you ever could read him. Although, you don’t expect him to tear off the remains of the condom, tossing them in a direction he assumes your trash is in. His cock bobs, shining in the moonlight from your shared fluids. He says something you can’t quite hear, though it sounds like an apology from the tone of it and how his eyes get all misty again, like he always gets after sex. Then, he’s lining up his cock, pushing back inside of you with a whorish moan, slamming as deep as he can into you, his hands landing on your shoulders and keeping you pinned down.
“Agh- James!” You curse softly, wincing as his cock drags along your abused walls, his thumb coming down to press on your clit again, harshly rubbing it, “N-ugh, it hurts-”
He nods, but doesn’t slow down, “I just- I need this, okay? Just stay still.” He breathes out, James’ chest tightening as he grabs your hips, keeping you as close as possible. His eyes shut softly, his head lifting ever so carefully so you can see how his throat bobs.
You listen, and let him. Only ever breaking the comfortable silence with moans shared between you two. You don’t question him, just holding on tight as he uses you like a toy, over, and over, and over again.
"bullies to lovers" except it's not really bullying and y'all don't become lovers you just have sex
Tags: Ftm reader // Bottom reader // Top Gojo // Top Geto // Oral sex (reader receiving) // Vaginal fingering // Vaginal sex // Multiple orgasms // Hair pulling // Praise
Your classmates were annoying.
They loved to tease you every single chance they got.
You could almost call it bullying- almost . It didn’t really have the same malice, the same hatred that bullying did.
But the way they bothered you all the time…
You were absolutely tired of them.
Gojo called your name, over and over, but you paid him no mind. Just ignore him. He’ll lose interest eventually.
“Satoru, I think he’s gone deaf.” Geto said with that annoying smile of his.
Naturally, they continued annoying you, despite your lack of response. You didn’t even look at them, yet they somehow still didn’t lose their motivation.
Eventually, you huffed and got up, walking away from the two most annoying boys in the world.
Only for an arm to catch you across the waist and pull you straight into Gojo’s lap.
He had a strong grip, which was unexpected considering how slender he looked. Guess he didn’t brag about being ‘the strongest’ for no reason.
“Are you in a bad mood?” He cooed mockingly. He had the most annoying smirk on his face, and a quick glance confirmed that Geto did too.
You were not going to take their mockery, and you really weren’t in the mood for whatever this was supposed to be. You tried to get up, only for Gojo to tighten his grip. It didn’t hurt physically, but it was definitely a blow to your ego. “Would you just leave me alone already?” You grumbled irritably.
He shrugged, grinning like it was all some elaborate joke. “He’s just persistent.” Geto excused. As if it wasn’t both of them who were persistent in tormenting you.
Anything you had ever used for storage- lockers, cubbies, bags- were frequently filled with notes. Specifically heart-themed notes that would be filled with weird messages like:
“Roses are red
Green is the color of grass
Please wear tighter pants
They really bring out your ass”
You had no idea what the hell they were thinking or what their intentions were, but you were pretty sick of them.
“Let me go.” You demanded, pushing yourself as far as you could from Gojo’s body.
“What would be the fun in that?” Geto asked. He was just sitting on a nearby desk, looking amused.
Gojo leaned forward, putting his face way too close to yours. “We just want to have some fun with you.” He whispered seductively.
Seductively? Seductively? What the hell? You could feel your cheeks heating up, which was the last thing you needed in this situation. Being stuck on Gojo's lap while the two of them teased you was bad enough, and now you're blushing too? Your dignity is being torn to shreds.
“What?” You croaked out, quiet and broken-- traitorously revealing how that one little whisper had gotten to you.
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at either of them. But all of a sudden, you felt yourself being lifted, and now you were laying on a desk with Gojo’s arms on either side of you, trapping you in place.
“You heard me. We’ve been trying for so long, but you just never catch the hint. You almost made us think you hate us, you know.” Gojo complained, his voice whiny as he emphasized his frustration.
“Our fault, really. We should’ve been more direct.” Geto shrugged, trying and failing to seem casual. His smirk and the lilt in his voice betrayed just how smug the bastard was.
“You tormented me for all this time-” You started, ready to go off, only to be interrupted by Gojo's finger on your lips. “We were flirting with you.” He smiled at you, as if it all made perfect sense. Really, it made none at all.
Last time you checked, though, none of their behaviours counted as flirting. Hiding your uniform, stuffing your wallet with condoms, annoying you every chance they got. And a few other things you'd rather forget...
“I think we need to show him how much we like him.” Geto hummed, thrumming with excitement. “Oh, I’ve been waiting way too long for a chance.” Gojo laughed in response, immediately pulling your pants down-- how he managed to do it so quickly was beyond you.
“Gojo, what are you doing?” You asked, mortified. “Didn’t we tell you to call us by our first names?” He gently scolded, his finger running a vertical line across your crotch. Did he know? How did he find out? You never disclosed your anatomy to anyone. As far as anyone was aware, you were just a regular boy who happened to be on the shorter side. Yet, he didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised by the fact that he couldn’t feel a cock in your pants.
Gojo's fingers kept gliding over your clothed crotch, and his lips sealed yours. You could feel yourself get just a little wet at the sudden simulation-- how unfortunate, to get aroused from a prick like him. And how embarrassing, to already start getting wet with so quickly.
His tongue ran over your lips and he nipped at your bottom lip, but you didn’t let up. He pinched you and you gasped, and he immediately took the chance to swipe his tongue into your mouth.
He was practically stealing your breath away, and you tugged at his hair, wanting to breathe. He pulled away, with a string of saliva connecting your lips and his. “Don't be shy, pull harder.” He laughed. You shook your head, and he flashed a look to Geto. What the fuck was going on? Why the hell was Gojo doing this, and in front of Geto?
He pulled your underwear down and you barely had any time to react before his mouth was on your folds, licking desperately. You made some a surprised, pitchy noise and your back arched. Both involuntarily, your body moving before your mind could process. It was hard to control yourself. He seemed to be able to draw reactions out of you far too easily for your liking.
“Gojo, what the fuck?” You said, voice breathy but still laced with irritation-- immediately followed by you immediately squealing when he pinched your thigh hard . He glared at you from where he was situated between your legs, but didn’t bother pulling his mouth away from your folds to utter a single word.
“It’s Satoru.” Geto corrected. “He’s so mean, isn’t he?” His voice oozed with fake sympathy. Even the world's most oblivious idiot could see through him.
You were in a situation that was far too odd for your liking-- Gojo was on his knees in front of you, your thighs on his shoulders, and his face buried in your crotch. And Geto watching intently, his expression unusually stoic. It was unnerving. You would have never in a million years expected them to behave this way, to exhibit these manners that are so unlike them.
Gojo slid his tongue up and swirled it around your clit, and your hips bucked up. His eyes darkened and he started sucking your clit, making you produce all sorts of keening noises. His fingers slipped in, ignoring the resistance of your walls, and your eyelids forced themselves shut when his fingers started pushing and prodding inside you, searching. A needy, breathless moan left your lips as he found just what he was looking for.
“I can’t decide whether I wanna make you cum on my face, or if the first time I make you cum should be on my dick.” Gojo said breathlessly, unlatching his mouth for a few seconds to talk. His fingers continued curling inside you, attacking your g-spot with no mercy. How could he expect you to answer him like this? Especially to a question like that?
He didn’t wait for anyone to advise him though, simply going back to lapping at your pussy.
You moaned and subconsciously started grinding your hips. Even though you were the one being eaten out, he was groaning and moaning too, as though he was experiencing the very same pleasure. When you eventually gushed, you couldn’t tell which one of you was being louder.
He pulled away and you could finally feel how your legs were shaking-- not too hard, but it was definitely noticeable. You blinked your eyes open to find Geto sucking on Gojo’s fingers, the same fingers that were just inside you--.
His amethyst-like eyes were dark with what you could only assume with lust, his expression giving away how badly he wanted to devour you.
Gojo pulled his fingers out of Geto’s mouth with a wet pop and he walked back over to you. He grabbed your legs and put a leg on either side of his waist. All of a sudden you felt something intrude in your walls, making you grab at the sides of the desk. “Flip him over.” Geto commanded, and Gojo pulled out and flipped you on your stomach. He grabbed your hips, pushing your back down and lifting them up, making you arch your back.
You felt the intrusion again, making you want to press your face into something, just anything . He pushed his cock slowly into you, inch by inch. You don’t even know how much of it was in before you pressed your lips together and shut your eyes. You felt so full already, you didn’t know how the hell anything more was gonna fit. “I can’t take anymore.” You warned weakly. “Of course you can.” Gojo grunted, pushing more of himself inside you. You lowered your head and bit your lip, making him pull you backwards and lift your hips higher. “Can’t keep it arched, huh?” He sounded breathless, but still so fucking smug. By the time you felt his hips finally connect to your ass, you were seeing stars. You could feel how deep he was in you and it felt like too much already.
He pulled out slowly before pushing back in, and repeated several times, getting a little faster each time. His restraint eventually snapped and he just sped up, thrusting in and out of you so fast and so hard. You were moaning so damn loudly, gripping the edge of the desk for dear life.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good. So damn warm and wet-” Gojo babbled as he thrust. “You know you’re so fucking pretty, so fucking perfect- hah , you keep fluttering around me whenever I praise you. You like that?”
Of course he was the talkative type. You could hardly remark on it though, not when you were too busy getting your brain fucked right out of your skull.
His hand snaked down to your clit and every thought instantly evaporated into nothing.
It didn’t take long for you to cum after that, your walls clenching around him desperately as you cried out. “Squeezing me so fucking tight, fuck -” He whimpered before cumming in you.
He pulled out and let go of your hips, and you felt the warm liquid seep out. It was finally over, you finally got to rest after having two orgasms-
But then a finger swiped upwards, pushing the semen back into your hole. You didn’t recall Gojo’s fingers being so thick…?
“You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” Geto purred. Ah. Of course. That was Geto’s finger. You’d only noticed by sight, before, how Gojo had longer, thinner fingers whereas Geto had thicker ones. And now you got to feel it too.
His hand grabbed your hair and pulled it, making you yelp. “I asked you a question.” His voice was so cold . “Aren’t you gonna answer?” He was yanking your hair in such a way that he was forcing you to arch more- to the point where it hurt -, and you really didn’t want to find out what he would do if you didn’t answer.
“Yes!” You snapped, resulting in a sharp slap to your ass. “ I’ll be good for you, Suguru. Say that. And make it cute.” He commanded sharply. Wasn’t he the one talking about how mean Gojo was?
“I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you Suguru-” You said quickly, sounding breathless. He let go of your hair and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck, making you flinch. “Good boy.” He whispered in your ear, his breath hot.
You barely had a warning before he slipped into you. Only the head was in, but you could already tell your earlier observations about their fingers applied to somewhere else, too.
He pushed into you slowly, and you felt like you were being split open. Your fingers gripped the edge of the desk roughly, desperate for reprieve.
His thrusts were painfully slow, making you really feel him stretching your walls. You whined, shifting your hips, only for him to squeeze them before holding them in place.
“You need something, baby?” His voice was low and seductive. He was being so mean earlier but he seemed so nice now. He pushed your hair away from your ear before putting his mouth directly on it. “C’mon, use your words.” He whispered, his hot breath fanning on your ear, causing you to shudder. “Can you..” Were you really about to ask him to fuck you faster? The same guy who’s been tormenting you ever since you entered this school?
“Can I what?” You could hear the grin in his voice, that bastard. “Go faster.” You finished your sentence. It was barely out of your mouth before he picked up speed, making you see white. All that could come out of your mouth was “oh my god”, and even then it was probably silent. He, like Gojo, was vocal, but he was still quieter than his friend.
You couldn’t tell which one of them was more unbearable; Gojo’s unnaturally deep thrusts coupled with his loud whimpers, or Geto’s abnormal stretch and temperamental treatment.
When his hips started stuttering, he immediately started massaging your clit, making you finish with him. Your stomach finally made contact with the desk, and you just rested your cheek on its hard surface as you panted. You could feel your thighs shake, feel their cum dripping out of your used cunt.
“So fucking hot. Damn, I should’ve brought my camera with me.” Gojo’s voice cut in. “You have a phone for a reason, don’t you?” Geto replied. “Well, yeah, but the quality .” He whined.
“Oh, well. I’ll bring it next time!” Gojo said cheerfully. You raised your head off the desk to glare at him. “Fuck you mean next time ?” You said incredulously. He smiled and tilted his head. “What, did you think this was nearly enough? We really meant it, you know. We like you.”
A/N: this is legitimately the longest fic I’ve ever written and I wrote it in two days on my way back from vacation 🫠
This was heavily inspired by the AO3 work Look my Way. It’s a WinterAgent fic but omg does it capture the essence of something I’ve been trying to write about for years now. Definitely check the series out if you like angst with a happy ending but absolutely mind the tags
Also, thank you so much to @fandoms-are-my-h0me for all your help with this story! It wouldn’t be this good without you! 😊
If I’ve forgotten to tag anything, please let me know! Also, don’t like, don’t read!
Dividers by @/enchanthings
CW: Reader is a fireball; Reader is an enhanced anti-hero; mentioned shame rooms; Reader is emotionally volatile; mentioned nightmares; mentioned dysphoria; obsessed!Reader; Reader is emotionally insecure; mentions of wearing a binder; Reader wears a suit; Bob is a good friend; jealous!Reader; Reader wears boxers; kissing; explicit sexual content; smut; biting; masochist!Reader (?); grinding; Walker carries Reader; Reader’s parts are referred to as core, dick, and hole; Walker calls Reader a brat; one mention of the words pussy and whore; dom!Walker; praise kink; oral sex (Reader receiving); cumming untouched; cumming in pants; making out; mentioned top surgery scars; doggy style; dirty talk; fingering; light spanking (?); multiple orgasms; penetrative sex; intense sex; cumming inside; no aftercare; cuddling; angst; protective!Walker; Reader is bad at feelings; Walker is also bad at feelings; ‘I love you’s
4444 words
You and Walker aren’t dating.
That’s what you tell everyone. That’s what he tells everyone. That’s what Valentina tells the public.
You and Walker are just teammates. Teammates with a hell of a lot of tension between the two of you, but teammates nonetheless.
In reality… things are a lot more complicated.
You don’t know how to explain how things started.
You and Walker had always been more amiable towards each other. You’d treated him cordially when you’d first met. It had been easier for you than for the others. You understood the pressure of performance, the way grief turned to anger.
After all, you were supposed to be America’s sweetheart. The pretty, perfect, sweet one. Instead, you’d been angry. Violent. Ferocious and uncontrollable. You’d lashed out where you should’ve been sweet. You’d fought when you should’ve been peaceful.
And it had earned you the scorn of nations.
But when you’d stared Walker down in that death trap of a vault, he hadn’t snapped at you. Hadn’t sneered at you or mocked you beyond a mild comment. Instead, he’d just looked at you with an expression akin to begrudging respect.
And that had started it all.
When everything with Bob went down, you’d been the first to charge after Yelena. The memory of your shame rooms still haunted you, trailing after you in nightmares and in the dark corners of rooms.
It had been Walker who’d found you. Punching through the wall with a yell. Shaking you from your fear and shame and grief and riling you back up into the fierce image of anger the public knows you as.
It’s Walker who continues to rescue you from your nightmares. When you wake up screaming in the middle of the night, terror clawing at your chest. Bitter fear bubbling inside you. It’s his room you seek shelter in.
It’s his arms you hide in. It’s his body you seek relief in. It’s his murmured words that soothe the roaring beast of dysphoria beneath your skin.
But you’re not dating.
Not for lack of want. Definitely not for lack of want.
You want him so bad it feels like a physical thing in your chest. A lump slowly growing and simmering, collecting scraps of obsession and adoration and need. You need his presence to breathe. To function. To exist without feeling untethered and broken.
But you’re scared to ask.
Walker likes you. You know this. He’s told you, in murmured words after sex. In between morning breath kisses. With every meal he cooks for you. You know it as surely as you know who you are.
But it’s not enough.
You don’t want him to like you. You want him to need you. You want him to adore you. You want him to love you.
But you’re pretty sure his heart still belongs to Olivia.
And you’re scared of losing him. Of losing the first bit of stability in your life you’ve had in years.
So you don’t ask. You just want in silence and hope that it’ll be enough for your starving heart.
Most of the time it is.
Tonight it isn’t.
You all are at some gala or other. A charity event, probably. In any case, you all are dressed up. Valentina pulled out all the stops this time, even going so far as to get you a fitted suit. One with a corset vest that hides your chest so you don’t have to struggle with a binder for tonight.
Everyone’s giving you space, except for Bob, of course. He’s clinging to your arm like a nervous dog, using your reputation for starting fights to keep from being asked prying questions. You don’t mind his presence. He’s good company and he’s good at keeping you from drinking too much.
Which you are definitely about to do.
Your mood is worse than usual. You’re practically glaring daggers across the room, wishing with all your might that Ava will phase through the floor all of a sudden and leave John alone.
Not that you’d be able to dance with him tonight. That’d be too close to a scandal. Too close to boyfriend behavior. But you can at least be angry at those who do get to dance with him.
“You know it’s not Ava’s fault, right…?” Bob asks, waving a hand in front of your face. Your jaw clenches and you turn away.
“I know.” The knowing doesn’t help the burning jealousy in your chest.
Bob frowns at you as you down another drink, the alcohol only making you a little fuzzy. You’re by no means a super soldier, but you’re enhanced nonetheless. You haven’t been able to get really drunk in years.
“Maybe you should slow down,” Bob says hesitantly. You don’t respond; your glare intensifying as Ava laughs at something John says.
That should be you.
It burns at your mind, itching under your skin. A furious beast snarling to be released.
“Hey.” Bob nudges you. Your glare turns on him, but softens immediately when he flinches.
“Sorry,” you mutter. You turn away, putting your back to John and Ava’s little happy moment. “It’s just…”
You don’t finish your sentence. You don’t have to. It’s Bob. He knows.
He flashes you a sympathetic smile. “You can dance with me if you want.”
You shake your head. It’s a sweet offer, but it wouldn’t be the same. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
You exhale slowly and assess the room. Yelena’s chatting with Bucky. Alexei’s talking to a reporter while Mel hovers nearby. Valentina is nowhere to be seen.
Giving you the perfect opportunity to slip away.
“Alright.” You nudge Bob in Yelena’s direction. “Go be a duckling with ‘Lena. I’m turning in for the night.”
Bob casts you a worried look. “You sure?”
You force a smile and nod. “Yeah. It’s… probably best I leave now. Before…” You wave your hands vaguely.
He nods. “Alright.” But he lingers for a moment. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
That makes your smile turn genuine. “Don’t call John stupid.”
Bob snorts. Shakes his head. And walks away.
You stay at the bar for only a moment longer before you start making your way towards the door. Predictably, no one stops you. They’ve all seen you glaring. No one wants to be the one to pick a fight with you.
“Hey!”
You turn. Walker jogs up to you, giving you one of those stupidly attractive grins that you love so much.
“What?” You wince internally at the sharpness of your voice but he doesn’t even seem fazed.
“Wanna get out of here?” He asks, slinging an arm around your shoulders. Guiding you out of the room with ease.
You should resist. The bitter jealousy is still curled behind your ribs, but you can’t help it. You can’t say no to him.
“Do something fun?” You ask, giving him a small but genuine smile.
He chuckles and pats your shoulder. “Read my mind.” He leans in closer, his voice a soft breath in your ear. “You look goddamn handsome in that suit. I wanna see how handsome you look without it.”
That’s all it takes for your body to light up with arousal. A few words and you’re already wet for him.
“Only if you let me wear your coat while you fuck me,” you murmur back.
His answering grin is blinding and makes your heart thrill.
Your camaraderie turns to lust as soon as the elevator doors close and the cameras are off you. The two of you collide like gravity’s pulling you together. Your hands find his waist, your lips crashing together.
It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s hungry and desperate and you want to be mean. So you bite at him, nipping at his lower lip till the acrid tang of blood spices your mouth.
He groans, nudging a knee in between your legs. You growl into the kiss, hands working at his shirt. The buttons are a pain to undo but you’re persistent. As soon as enough are undone, you’re pulling at his undershirt and smoothing your fingers over his abdomen.
You can feel his muscles flexing under your touch and you grin into the kiss. He knows how much you love his muscles.
His lips find your neck and he bites. You moan, arching against him. “Fuck, John!”
The pain makes your head all floaty; the sensation sharp enough to soothe the ache in your chest. He pushes his thigh harder against you and you grind down against it. Not caring in the slightest that you’re ruining your suit.
By the time you reach the floor with your rooms, you’re panting into each other’s mouths. You’re palming him through his pants, already soaking through yours.
You move to pull away and he grunts. With one fluid movement, he scoops you up. Carrying you through the darkened common room like you weigh nothing. It makes your core clench; the feel of his arms supporting you making your head spin.
You bury your face in his neck, kissing and nipping like crazy. Making him stumble and groan as he makes his way towards his room. “Fuck, babe. Gonna make me cum before I even get inside you.”
You smirk against his skin. “Like you wouldn’t just get hard again within a few minutes.”
He chuckles and kisses your shoulder. Giving you a soft bite through the fabric of your suit. You groan and roll your hips against his, grinding hard against his bulge. He curses, stumbling again.
“That one was on purpose,” he growls.
You grin. “What’re you gonna do about it?”
Your grin vanishes when his eyes gleam with triumph. Your head turns, but you already know. He opens the door to his room, kicking it shut behind him as he enters. He drops you on the bed, already shedding his coat.
Walker tosses it next to you on the bed, gazing down at you with a smirk on his face. “What am I gonna do about it? Well, darlin’…” He leans down, resting his hands on either side of your hips. “I think I’m gonna eat that bratty little hole of yours out.”
You flush and squirm, core clenching at the thought. If there was anything he was good at, eating pussy was number fucking one the list.
He grabs your chin, forcing you to hold his gaze. “Then, I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget your own damn name. Understand?”
You swallow and nod.
His eyes darken. “I said, understand?”
“Yes, sir!” You gasp out.
He smirks, all slow and smug. “Good boy.”
You bite back a moan. If your boxers weren’t soaked already, you’d’ve soaked them through just from that. He knows how weak you are to praise. His praise from him especially.
He pulls back, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Strip.”
You swallow again and obey. You work as fast as you can, tossing your clothes carelessly on the floor. You hesitate for a moment before taking off your undershirt. Exposing your scars to his gaze.
His expression softens, but he doesn’t say anything so you continue. Stripping off your pants and boxers before sitting back down on the edge of the bed. Completely and totally naked in front of him.
When you slowly spread your legs, you can see his gaze darken. Hunger filling his eyes. He drops to his knees in front of you, groaning softly. “Fuck, babe. You’re so handsome.”
A whimper crawls up your throat. You can feel your arousal spill from your core, dampening the sheets beneath you. He growls softly, reaching out to swipe two fingers against you. Gathering up your slick. You gasp, hips jolting. He just smirks, popping his fingers into his mouth.
His eyes flutter shut, a moan spilling from his lips. “You taste so goddamn good. Could fuckin’ feast on you all day long.”
You just groan and thread your fingers into his hair. Tugging him towards your aching core. “Shut up and eat me out, Johnny.”
Magic fucking words. He shoves his face against you, growling against your core. His stubble scrapes against you, making you gasp. Then he’s going down on you like a starving man, licking and sucking and eating you out like he needs you to live.
And you wail. “Fuck! Johnny, Johnny, fuck, yes!”
Your heels dig into his back, pulling him closer. You writhe, squirm, grind against his face. It feels like heaven, his stubble adding a layer of pain that makes you delirious with pleasure.
He pins your hips to the bed and sucks on your dick. Swirling his tongue around it and over it in that way that has you seeing stars. You cum with a cry, a broken gasp of his name.
You can feel the way his body jerks. The muffled groan that spills against you. He pulls back, expression dazed and hazy.
You pant, gazing down at him with wide eyes. “Did you just—“
“Shut up,” he grumbles, smacking your inner thigh. He rests his forehead against your leg, exhaling harshly. You grin. “Oh, you did.”
He lifts his head to give you a mild glare, but you don’t care. You push yourself up, giving him the smuggest look you can muster. “Big bad John Walker, cumming in his pants like a teenager. Whatever happened to fucking me till I forget my own— Fuck!”
He surges upward. Lips colliding messily with yours. You moan at the taste on his lips. Your taste.
He bites at your lower lip, sucking it harshly into his mouth. “Fuckin’ brat. Can’t give me a moment of goddamn peace, can you?”
You open your mouth to answer and he pushes you down. Climbing on top of you and shoving his tongue in your mouth to keep you quiet. You moan, legs wrapping around his waist. Hands sliding up his toned chest. Shamelessly feeling up his muscles as the two of you make out.
He’s too distracted to notice when you brace yourself. With a grunt and a huff, you flip the two of you over. Switching so you’re straddling him. Your dripping core nestled right over his covered cock.
You smirk down at him. He scowls. “Don’t even say it—“
“Is that a gun in your pocket, Walker?” You ask smugly. “Or are you just that happy to see me?”
He growls and rolls his hips up against you. Making your breath stutter in your lungs. You moan, thoughts flying away as you start to grind down against him. He’s big and he feels big, even through his pants. And you’re oh so empty, clenching down hard around nothing.
You quickly melt into whimpers, half-humping him as he groans underneath you. You’re just beginning to chase your high when he taps your thigh. You whine, but slide off him. Giving him space to breathe and room to yank off the rest of his suit.
While he fumbles with his belt, you snatch up his abandoned coat. Slipping your arms into the sleeves and buttoning it up just enough to hide your chest scars. It’s comfy. And the collar smells like him; like his nice cologne. The one he wears when he wants people to like him.
John eyes you as he steps out of his clothes. You eye him right on back. You don’t even try to hide the way you’re ogling his dick. The way you’re practically drooling over it. He’s big and he knows it.
He nods at you, jerking his head a little. “Go on. On your hands and knees.”
His tone makes you shiver and you scramble to obey. You get on your knees, ass up in the air. Dropping hole on perfect display for him.
He smirks. And you get no warning before he’s lightly smacking your core. Not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel it. “Look at you. Soaked already. You get this wet from my mouth or from grindin’ on my dick?”
You moan. Loudly. Unashamedly. Your whole body feeling hot from his words.
He chuckles, slipping two fingers inside you, all the way up to his knuckles. “Look at you. Moanin’ like a whore and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”
You whimper, eyes squeezing shut when his fingers curl inside you. He’s a god at eating you out, but his hands know your body like nothing else. You’re a mess within seconds. Whining and sobbing pitifully as he fingerfucks you.
And he doesn’t stop when you cum. He keeps going; the sounds obscene in the air around you. You cry his name, chanting it over and over. Voice cracking as he coaxes wave after wave of pleasure from your body.
And then he pulls his fingers out. And you cry from the emptiness instead.
“Oh, shut up,” he grumbles softly. Nothing but quiet affection in his tone. “You’re so needy.”
With a grunt, he lines himself up. Thrusting forward a few times to coat his cock in your slick before pressing in. And you both melt into delirium.
He’s so big. And the angle is just right, making the stretch delicious as he slides in.
He’s panting, forehead dropped against your back. His hips stutter, a moan ripped from his lips. And he cums, spilling inside you with a gasp of your name. You don’t make fun of him this time; too wrapped up in the moment to care.
It only takes him a moment to recover anyway. And then he’s pounding into you. Not even giving you a moment to breathe before he’s bullying his dick deep inside you. And you cry out; desperate pleas of his name, urging him on.
He fucks you with superhuman focus. Hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Yanking you back against him as he thrusts in. You babble his name, face shoved into a pillow. You can’t think; you can’t breathe. All you can do it take it, drowning in the pleasure.
You cum a third time. He fucks you through it. But his hips stutter, his pace messing up. And you know you have him. His hips slam home. His dick twitching inside you as he fills you up with hot cum.
It leaks out of you as he slowly pulls out. A swear bursting on his tongue as he watches his creamy seed spill from your core. You can see the desire in his eyes. The involuntary motion forward, as if to lean down and taste his own cum leaking from you.
You pull him down next to you instead. Both of you take a moment to breathe. To rest. To bask in the afterglow.
And then he pulls you to him. Tucks himself up along your back and nuzzles into your neck. His breath ghosting along your skin.
It’s the perfect moment. The words spring up behind your lips. I love you. But you wait, desperately hoping he’ll say them tonight. That he’ll finally give name to what’s between you.
But his breathing evens out. His body relaxing against yours.
The disappointment is immeasurable. Soul-crushing and bone-deep. Any other day you’d shrug it off. Feed your hungry heart with imaginary scraps of a relationship you’re still not in.
But tonight it’s not enough. It’s never really enough. And, once you’re sure he’s asleep, you get up and leave.
The next two weeks are… weird. You don’t avoid Walker, but there’s an odd sort of tension in every interaction you have with him. A quiet strain on the easy routines you have with him.
You feel it like a gaping chasm.
It’s when the team starts to notice that you know it’s not just in your head. It starts with Bob, a soft question of “Are you okay?”
Then it’s Yelena making a quiet comment about your training session with Walker. You catch Ava talking with Walker in the kitchen one morning. It makes a spike of jealousy jump in your chest; one you do your best to stifle.
Finally, Bucky pulls you aside. “What’s going on with you and Walker?”
“Nothing.” Your answer is immediate and blank.
He’s visibly not convinced. His brow furrows and he steps closer. “If something’s going on that’ll affect the team…”
You exhale and look away. Across the room, Walker’s watching the two of you. An unreadable expression on his face. You meet his gaze for a moment.
“Nothing’s going on,” you say quietly. You turn back to Bucky. “Walker and I aren’t dating, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Bucky frowns. “Still?”
Something about the way he says it makes you bristle. You can feel yourself going on the defensive, your stance shifting a little. “Yeah. Still.”
Bucky runs a hand over his face. “Look, you two need to get your shit together.”
Your jaw sets. You force your mouth to stay shut. Biting back the scathing words that itch to be let out.
“You can’t keep dancing around each other forever,” he says tiredly. “Something’s gonna give and I don’t want it to be—“
Whatever he was about to say is cut off. Because the second he reaches out to rest a hand on your arm, Walker’s there. Chin raised and shoulders back. Slowly nudging his way between the two of you before you can do something rash.
“Back off, Barnes.” There’s nothing but icy steel in Walker’s voice. It makes the ball of anger in your chest loosen a little.
Bucky says something about good intentions. It makes Walker scoff, his arms folding over his chest. “I said, back off.”
They glare at each other for a moment before Bucky takes a step back. He glances between you two for a moment before nodding and walking away.
You gaze at Walker’s back. He lets out a breath and the tension slowly leaves his body. He turns to you, eyes searching yours. Neither of you say anything.
He reaches out, brushing a thumb over your cheek. Your breath hitches. Some quiet part of your brain screams at him to kiss you.
But he just lingers for a moment before pulling away. Leaving disappointment and uneasy butterflies behind.
He gives you a nod. Some unspoken affirmation of something you didn’t know needed an answer. And the disappointment smoothes over.
You give him a half-smile and take a step back. Slowly you tear your gaze away and turn to leave. He doesn’t stop you, but you can feel his gaze on you all the way to the elevator.
It makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks heat. And for the first time in days, the chasm between you two doesn’t feel so wide.
That night, there’s a knock at your door. It startles you, but doesn’t surprise you. You pull on a shirt and answer the door.
It’s Walker. Standing there quietly. Looking not all stern and demanding, but soft and determined. You smile a little. “Hey.”
His lips quirk up. “Hey.”
You step back to let him in. He lingers by the door, closing it softly behind him. You take a seat on the edge of your bed, gazing at him. You both are silent, as if waiting for the other to speak.
Finally, he clears his throat. “We need to talk.”
You try to ignore the shards of panic that splinter through your heart. Nothing good ever comes of those words. Still, you nod. “Okay.”
He takes a breath. You brace yourself.
“What are we?”
You blink. “What?”
He swallows. “What are we?”
“No, I heard you.” You stare at him. “What do you mean?”
He shifts as if uncomfortable. “Are we dating? Are we friends? What are we?”
“Well, we’re not dating.” You mean for it to be a joke, but it comes out harsher than intended.
Walker flinches. You scramble to continue. “I mean, I guess we’re fuckbuddies?”
It’s your turn to wince. Just saying it aloud hurts. It feels cheap, like it’s lessening whatever you two have between you.
“Fuckbuddies.” He stares flatly at you.
You avoid his gaze. “Friends with benefits, maybe?”
His expression doesn’t change. “Right. That’s all we are.”
Your chest hurts. Like someone’s slowly but surely ripping your heart from its home. You swallow and stare at the ground. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, all of them screaming to be spoken.
Silence stretches out between you. Walker’s expression slides into something like disappointment. He scoffs softly. “Fuckbuddies.”
He shakes his head and turns away. “Of course that’s all we are.”
You just stare at him wordlessly. He sounds so… bitter. And you can’t help but wonder if this is it. If this is the moment he’ll turn and say it’s over.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he looks at you. Gives you this pained look. Gaze flicking across your face like he’s searching for something.
“Is that all we are?” His voice is quiet. Bordering desperation. It sinks into your heart like a knife, gutting you from the inside out.
The whirlwind in your mind comes to a screeching halt, only one thought left in your mind. A selfish, greedy, hungry thought. “No.”
He steps closer. Gaze now intensely focused on yours. “No?” It’s barely a whisper.
You let out a breath. “I don’t know what we are.”
He steps closer again. Something changing in his expression. “But we’re something?”
You nod. Your palms are sweaty; your breath coming out all shaky. It takes a terrifying amount of courage to speak. “We could— We could date. If you wanted to.”
He doesn’t look away. “I want to.”
The wall of fear around your heart cracks and shatters. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “You do…?”
He reaches out, cupping your face in his rough hands. “Yeah.”
A smile twitches at your lips, tugging them up until you’re grinning at him. “John?”
“Hmm?” His thumb brushes your lower lip.
“Will you be my boyfriend?”
His gaze flicks up to yours. His lips quirk up. He leans in. “Hell fucking yeah.”
The kiss is soft. Slow and deep, like you both are savoring the contact. You pull back slowly, smiling. He chases after you, pulling you into another, hungrier kiss.
You nip at his lower lip, making his breath catch. “John Walker,” you whisper. “My boyfriend.”
He chuckles lowly, dipping his head to nuzzle along your jaw. “We should make that my new alias. John Walker, your boyfriend.”
A laugh startles from you and you lean back to grin at him. He smirks up at you.
“I love you,” he murmurs.
Your eyes widen. “I love you too,” you whisper back. And something in your chest curls up and settles down.
