pillow talk
oct 10 ⋆ thigh riding / innocence kink
sirius black x reader
summary: sirius touches you for the first time ♱ 1.1k
warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, innocent!reader/inexperienced!reader, talk of masturbation, thigh riding, praise, fingering
kinktober masterlist
note: might be one of my faves
Sirius can hardly believe a pretty thing like you has gone so long without ever having a boyfriend. His brain short-circuited when you told him he’d be your first, and he felt his heart clench with a fierce need to take care of you. To be the best boyfriend you could ask for. The best first everything—and hopefully the last.
He’s been taking things slow with you, as hard as it’s been. He finds himself clenching his fists, fingernails biting his palms, to control the burning desire churning low in his gut. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’d let him, he’d have bent you over every surface in your flat by now. He’d have ruined you, put you back together, and ruined you all over again. And again, and again.
Sometimes, he does let himself get carried away. Kisses you until your lips are swollen. Whispers dirty things in your ear to pull sweet, nervous squeaks from your mouth and make your cheeks heat up a few degrees.
After a night out with you in a short little dress, teasing him without even realizing it, he can’t resist. He has you pressed against the wall in your room right now, hands roaming wherever he pleases, teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. He nips at your earlobe.
“Do you ever get needy? Do you ever make yourself feel good when you’re all alone?” he whispers.
He doesn’t expect you to respond, but he gets a little nod from you that has all the blood in his brain rushing to his groin. He lifts his head so he can look in your eyes, his own gray like moonlight, his stare pinning you in place more than his hands ever could.
“Yeah? How?” he rasps.
You whisper the answer so quietly that he almost doesn’t hear it. But he does.
“You use your pillow?” Sirius asks, choking back a groan at the mental image that’s painted in his head. Vivid daydreams of you on your bed, a pillow between your thighs as you rock your hips into it, rutting your desperate cunt into the plush cushion.
He doesn’t have much volition over his knee, which slowly creeps between your legs, spreading your thighs for him. He aches to see you like that in person.
“How do you use your pillow, sweetheart?” His voice is hoarse, and the thought of whatever words could leave your mouth in response has his grip on your waist tightening, probably leaving bruises, your bunched-up dress the only cushion between you and his fingertips.
You stammer, your wide, innocent gaze darting nervously from his face to anywhere but. To have never been touched or spoken to like this before must make it all so overwhelming. He would do anything to ease those nerves.
Sirius pulls you away from the wall, a little closer to him, his head dipping to press sweet kisses to your temple and trailing down until his lips hover over your ear.
“Can you show me?” he asks, his voice a low whisper as he pushes you down on his thigh. Your shaky breaths match up as you come down on him. His heart pounds harder against his ribcage when he feels the heat of your body through the layers of clothes.
Your head tilts back to meet his eyes. Gentle and reassuring, they give you the courage to move.
He groans softly. You slowly rocking your hips against his jeans is a much more heavenly sight than anything his brain was able to concoct.
“You look so pretty like this,” he says, and your grip on his shoulders tightens, the movement of your hips getting a little more desperate.
Sirius moves his leg against you, pressing into you more. The whimper that tumbles from your mouth is the most beautiful noise he’s ever heard, and he wants to hear it again.
He takes control over your movements, guiding your hips with his hands, occasionally bouncing his leg to elicit a delicious gasp from your lips.
“So good,” he coos as your arms snake around the back of his neck, holding on for dear life. “This is what you do to your pillow when you’re alone? Alone and needy for a release?”
“Y-yes,” you choke out, your voice high-pitched with desperation, “But this—it feels better like this.”
The admission pulls a growl from his throat. “Yeah?” Sirius asks, his lips moving against your forehead. It takes all his willpower not to rip your clothes off and take you right then and there.
“It feels better with me helping you?” he asks, pushing you to move faster against him.
“Y-yeah,” your voice shakes, eyes screwing shut from the pleasure the friction brings.
His body aches for more, and with every sweet little sound you make, he loses more and more control. He needs to feel you, to touch you.
Sirius looks into your eyes, wanting to see all of the emotions in them as he asks, “Want me to make you feel even better, sweetheart?”
Your breath catches in your throat, and he gives his words a second to soak in before he continues.
“Will you let me touch you?” His voice is low and raspy with want. His fingertips ghost over your inner thigh. “Let me show you how good I can make you feel?”
“I… okay,” you decide.
“Yeah?”
You nod, taking a deep breath to ease your nerves. “I trust you,” you murmur, and his heart skips a beat at your admission. The words hit somewhere deep because he loves being that for you—someone you can trust. And because no one else ever has you like this. The thought makes his pulse quicken.
Sirius keeps his eyes on your face, checking for any hint of discomfort, as his hand dips beneath the hem of your dress. He touches you softly over your panties. The cotton is damp, and he groans. His head tips forward to rest against yours.
Your breath comes out in quick pants as his hand dips beneath the fabric, his fingers running over your mound reverently. He hisses as your nails dig into the skin of his neck.
You whimper when he dips a finger between your folds, gently rubbing your clit. He doesn’t stay there for long, too eager. He teases your hole for a few seconds, allowing you time to brace yourself before he pushes his digit into you for the first time.
“Oh, Sirius,” you moan.
He slowly increases the pace, curling his finger until the only sound in the room is a symphony of your moans and lewd wet noises from where his finger pumps into you.
He feels you clenching around him, close. But he intends to draw this out, so he slows down. He kisses your cheek.
Look at the Sky, Its the Color of Love
Biker!Bucky x Rich!Reader
Petal's love notes:
Bucky owns a garage shop so its also Mechanic!Bucky in a way. He calls her bunny and is absolutely smitten with her right from the start ( ˶˘ ³˘)♡ you turn him soft.
You can pry the bad boy x good girl trope out of my tightly clenched fists I am never getting over this.
Summary: Oakley and Rivercreek are two sides of the same town that never got along. You, a rich socialite with a family name powerful enough to move mountains catch the eye of a certain biker boy from downtown.
Word count: 11.1k
Warnings:
18+ mdni / fluff / angst, so much / sad bucky is a yearner / love confessions / smut (oral, no protection, p in v) / no use of y/n / reader is referred to as bunny /
Wrote this while listening to Kiss of Life by Sade so you might want to check that out for the vibes. Also, it's my first time writing for this fandom so please feel free to give feedback! Let's be friends ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
Bucky Barnes hates a lot of things.
But not Sundays. Definitely not Sundays.
It's the only time he ever gets to see you, after all. You show up with flustered cheeks every single time. Your hair is in a neat bun, pushed back with a pearl headband that your mother insists you must wear to look at least decent.
You wear a white, chaste dress that falls just below your knees which makes you look pure, angelic, even. Bucky isn't exaggerating when he says that you could be the virgin mother herself, but he doesn't believe in god. He doesn't follow any religion.
Which is why it's so strange to him, and his friends Sam and Steve as to why he insists on smoking just across the street of the old cathedral the uptown folk go to every Sunday.
'Just wanna see what the pretentious are up to, have a good laugh at what rich people gimmick they have this week.' He reasons out to them lamely. 'No other reason.'
Definitely not because he wants to catch a glimpse of you once a week, fidgeting outside the old cathedral as your parents parade you around the other rich families that tend to show off their wealth through generosity.
Somehow, singing praise and donating to the offertory has become a symbol of wealth among the rich folk of Oakley- the upper end of town where you're from. Where folk up there look down on the... more indigent people in Rivercreek, where he's from.
When the cathedral doors open, his eyes find you.
They always find you.
You're running a delicate hand through your hair, getting reprimanded by your mother because 'how dare you have a strand of hair out of place.'
Families are greeting each other, he hears someone complain about how much of a hassle it is that their chauffeur had no other choice but to park a little further down the street just to avoid other cars from parking too near their new Chevy.
He wants to roll his eyes at that, but that would mean taking them off you for a second. He doesn't want to.
The Oakley folk continue to rush out in their white and pristine clothing after singing praises loudly as a form of performative philanthropy, which makes him and his friends stand out in their all black clothing, leaning against the seat of their rested bikes.
"Here they come- My god, do they look like a herd of sheep" Sam comments which earns a chuckle from Steve.
A few heads turn at them wearing horrified expressions with a mix of disgust for using the Lord's name in vain, but they couldn't care less.
"Buck, you listening? That was a good one!" Sam nudges his shoulder.
He manages to let out a small smile in response, but keeps his eyes trained on you.
"Yeah, knocked the breath out of me" he tells him, but he's not talking about the joke.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
It's a Tuesday and he works grumpily hunched over a car of some rich Oakley folk who had no choice but to have his car done at the nearest auto shop that happened to be his.
'Not a scratch on it, young man.' The older man tries to intimidate him.
'You know the consequences if it comes back with with even a tiny dent.'
Bucky huffs at the memory of the conversation. Oakley folk can fuck off, they're all prejudiced. stuck-up pigs who only look down on--
Well, maybe not you.
He's seen you at charity events before, the orphanage located between both sides of town.
While all the other Oakley folk show up to flaunt their big donations, you actually take it upon yourself to interact with the kids and get to know them. They all adore you, but definitely not as much as he does.
He decides to indulge himself in the image of you in his head to put him in a better mood, when suddenly he hears gentle footsteps enter his garage.
"Hello?" A timid voice makes him shoot his head up from the hood of the car.
It's you.
You're standing in his garage, wearing a simple, yet expensive looking dress that probably costs more than his rent for the entire month-
You're standing in his garage
and you're speaking to him.
He opens his mouth once, before closing it again. He knows he probably looks like an idiot right now, gaping at you with wide eyes and saying absolutely nothing, but he can't help himself.
In all his time he spent watching you from afar, he'd already accepted that you were out of his league. He'd be happy with you just sparing a glance at him, but now you were actually here, speaking to him! In Rivercreek of all places-
Realization dawns on him.
You're in Rivercreek.
The bad side of town where the dingy people over here who hate pretentious Oakley kids wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of innocent looking things like you.
Suddenly, a frown dawns on his face.
"Why are you here?" is the first thing he says to you.
You look taken aback by his sudden question, and he winces at how creepy he must sound
"Excuse me?" despite your startle at his words (and his audacity), your voice still sounds like honey in his ears.
"No- I mean..." Bucky panics before recollecting himself with a deep breath.
"You're... Not from this side of town, are you?" Safe. That answer makes him seem like less of a stalker now, doesn't it?
You let out a sigh.
"Is it that obvious?" Your expression is one of disappointment and helplessness, triggering a protective nature from Bucky.
"I needed help and... It's getting dark out and I think I'm lost" he listens to you shyly and frantically explain your situation to him while fiddling with the lace hem of your dress.
"I'm cold, and scared- and your shop was the only one with a light open a-and..."
"Hey, relax. I'll help you." Bucky hopes his words of reassurance will stop your rambling. He can almost see the anxiety bubbling in your chest.
"How'd you end up all the way up here? Oakley is on the other side of town."
At that, he sees your eyes widen at him in disbelief. Surely you would've known if you were in-
"Is this Rivercreek?!" Your small voice squeaks in surprise.
Bucky can't help but blink in disbelief.
"This... This isn't exactly the kind of establishment that would be at Oakley." He speaks to her gently, scared that a little volume in his voice would scare her off like a frightened little bunny.
"O-oh god, my parents are going to kill me..." the words are spoken out of you in a breath that sounded more for yourself than him, but he hears you loud and clear.
"Hey, hey, don't worry I'll..." Bucky attempts to cut off your anxiety that has definitely reached the surface by now
"I'll bring you back to Oakley. The border isn't too far from here, okay?"
He realizes how he's unconsciously stepped closer to you when he feels your warmth of your presence radiating from your spot in the middle of his garage.
"I'm Bucky."
"Bucky" you repeat his name and its suddenly his favorite sound in the world. You tell him your name, before scrunching your nose at the cold air blows and enters the premises of his garage.
He can't help but let out a soft laugh at that. You're just so fucking cute, like a little
"Bunny."
He says it without thinking, but that seems to happen a lot around you.
"What?" Eyes blink up at him in wonder.
"You. You're like a little bunny. All timid and shy."
"Oh." He sees a smidge of a blush on your cheeks which makes his heart rate pick up. You're killing him without even trying and you don't even know it.
Before another moment can pass, Bucky stands up straighter and grabs his leather jacket from where it was tossed on his work desk.
"Come on, bunny. Lets get you back to where you belong. I'll walk ya back to the Oakley border"
"T-thanks, but I was just hoping to get some directions" You shyly let out. "I really don't want to take up more of your time. You seem... Busy" Your eyes trail towards the expensive Mustang the client from your side of town left in his shop.
You're right about that. He is busy.
"Nah. 'M not that busy, bunny" he shrugs and gives you a reassuring smile.
He laughs internally at your little pout and at how you tell him your name again.
"Will you stop calling me that ridiculous name?"
The tone you give him is one of both annoyance and embarrassment, but the little crinkle in between your brows and the scrunch on your nose is the cherry on top. It makes you truly live up to the nickname he's given you.
Bucky shakes his head, still with that gentle smile he never knew his face could make until his conversation with you, and drapes his leather jacket over your shoulders.
"Come on, it'll only get darker and colder from here. Let's get you home." he completely ignores your request to call you by your name and with motions you to follow him.
The walk to Oakley is a decent few minutes, and you manage to make it to the border just before it went completely dark out. The sky is a perfect shade of dark blue, pink, and yellow, making the atmosphere look much sweeter and whimsical.
The pastel colors washed your frame with a soft golden glow, and at that moment Bucky decides that you are the soft light that starts every morning with a gentle warmth. Its ironic how he can feel both comfort and nervousness in your presence.
To his surprise, you both flow into enjoyable conversation where you learn more about each other. You tell him that you've never really been anywhere else but here, limited to where your family chauffeur is allowed to take you.
You were supposed to meet him right at the border of Oakley after visiting the orphanage you volunteer at, but got lost when you decided to take a detour, a short walk to clear your head.
"Makes sense, the orphanage is right at the border of Oakley and Rivercreek. No wonder you ended up at my shop, bunny." Bucky replies.
He tells you that he's been taking care of the shop ever since his pop died, and that he's been running it with his two best friends Steve and Sam. He tells you that he's passionate about bikes, that he and his friends have always lived for the sense of freedom and the rush it provides.
"You're the guys that are always smoking behind the church, then. Am I right?" You ask him with a knowing smile.
"Y-you noticed?" He wants to kick himself for stammering. It looks so uncool.
"I'm not blind, silly" You giggle and hug the leather jacket closer to yourself just as a cold rush of wind hits you both. He has to resist the urge to pull you close to protect you from it.
"My mother thinks you're trouble."
"'M already starting on a bad note with your parents, huh bunny?"
That earns him a loud giggle and a playful slap on his shoulder.
Once your chauffeur spots you from the end of the road, he quickly gets back inside the car to start it and make his way to you. Bucky can almost feel his distress at almost losing the daughter of an affluent family.
Bucky hears you let out a sigh once you see the headlights of your car flash. The sound of the engine starting acting like a countdown timer indicating the end of your time together.
But he can't let it end here. He's been pining after you for so long, admiring from afar and tomorrow he's going to have to... go back to doing that? He just got you.
You take off his leather jacket from your shoulders and that sends him into a panic to act fast.
"Thank you again for walking me back--"
"When can I see you again?"
are the words that rush out of his mouth with slight panic lacing his tone just as you're thanking him. He wants to slap himself in the face for being so forward with you, but the arrival of the car slowly approaching you makes him panic.
"I- What?" You're blushing now, trying to process his sudden words.
Bucky takes a deep breath before repeating more confidently this time.
"I... I wanna see you again, bunny. Will you let me see you again?"
Suddenly, he feels too aware of himself. Covered in all black clothing from head to toe, his intimidating and sharp features contrasting too loudly with your soft ones. There's no way you see yourself with someone like him, its a mismatch from chaos itself.
He prepares himself for rejection, a gentle letdown because he knows your heart is too kind to give him a straight up no. But when he meets your eyes he sees the cute little crinkle on your nose and a shy smile.
"Okay."
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
That's how Bucky ends up sleepless that night, with your number on his phone and a pattern of typing and deleting his message to you.
God... He thinks. This is pathetic.
He's acting like some lovesick school boy with his first crush, and not a Rivercreek biker with a series of misconducts under his belt. If only his friends could see him now.
If only they knew that all it takes is a cute girl with a smile that reminds him of sunshine, and crinkles her nose when she gets irritated to make him go soft.
When was the right time to send a text, anyway? He never cared this much when he's talk to girls before.
Sam had told him once, to wait it out a bit before texting a girl. Don't look too available. He had told him. Girls like a little mystery. Keeps them on their toes.
But does Bucky want you on your toes with him? Did he want you to wait?
It almost felt rude to not message you right away, because after all, he thought you deserved the best.
And the best meant giving you his full attention, his full interest and effort even if it meant making a fool of himself according to Sam's dating guideline.
Hey bunny, you get home okay?
It's Bucky :)
I know its you, Bucky. You're the only one that calls me that ridiculous name.
Yes, I'm home. Thank you again for helping me. :)
He reads your messages in your sweet voice, making his heart stutter. He truly is acting like a school boy right now.
Great to hear that, bunny. Get some rest and don't come wandering out this area alone next time, okay?
Why not? I have my own personal chaperone out of Rivercreek now, right?
I'm kidding. Goodnight, Bucky :)
He doesn't sleep that night. Instead, he loses himself in the memory of you in sunset.
· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
For the next week, you and Bucky exchange messages which allow you to get to know him better.
'What on earth has you smiling like that?' Your mother had caught you once, grinning down at your screen.
'Oh, its nothing its just...' One of the biker boys that you absolutely despise, and would kill me for even speaking to. 'Just a funny video my friend sent.' You tell her.
Your mother huffs at your reply, displeased with your answer as she stirs the dark liquid in the regal teacup in front of her. It makes your drink- coffee that is too many shades lighter than hers due to milk and cream, and a mug with little flowers on it, look much too immature.
"I'd rather have you spend your time more productive than looking at... memes" She laces her words with a tone of disapproval that you're too used to by now.
"Be ready tonight. We have that charity gala today and the press will be taking photos."
Obediently, you get up and leave your flowery mug at the breakfast table before she stops you.
"Oh, and do wear something nice. You're not just looking good for press, but suitors as well. Alright?"
Although her tone was much kinder with that sentence, it causes your heart to thump louder in your chest and your face to flush red.
Her obsession with finding you a match has increased tenfold as soon as you came of age, and you find it absolutely ridiculous. This isn't the 1940's anymore! Mothers no longer need to chaperone their daughters when it comes to dating!
But like the obedient daughter you are, you redirect your anger into subtle balled up fists and let your mouth speak the words your heart begs you not to.
"Yes, mother."
She sends you off with a nod and turns her attention back to her too-black coffee.
You arrive at the charity gala and are met with fellow Oakley families, and of course, the press. The event is marketed as an auction for artworks, wherein the money is promised to go out to the needy but you know better.
Its definitely a power grabbing scheme of wealth dynamics. 'Eat the Rich' you think to yourself. These resources can definitely be used more efficiently if they actually wanted to help the needy.
The event is definitely upscale- the grand ballroom is nothing short of extraordinary with high ceilings, dramatic lighting, and big glass doors overlooking a huge garden. It's beautiful, but you feel out of place.
Earlier that morning, you had texted Bucky your obligations for the night and to expect slow replies.
Which is why the latest notification on your phone comes as a surprise to you.
Fancy getting away for a bit, bunny?
What?
I thought bunnies prefer being outdoors
Don't tell me...
you reply back to him with shaky hands before looking around nervously. Another ping from your phone snaps you back into focus
Come out to the garden, bun :)
Your eyes quickly shoot up from your phone to the glass doors that are almost as high as the ceiling allows it to be. There's no way he actually... came here? Is there? Another message knocks you out of overthinking and confirms your skepticism.
The chandeliers look a bit much, don't you think?
Sure enough, when you look up you're met with the tackiest chandelier displays that exhibit grandeur over style and charm. Much like the people in this room.
You let out a sigh and try to calm the butterflies in your stomach. They won't notice you step out. It will only be a moment! You can always excuse yourself for needing some air.
Once you step outside, your eyes trail over the garden landscape. There is nothing but greenery and a high wall separating the event from the rest of the world. How on earth did he get in--
"Psst. Bunny."
His whisper comes from behind one of the garden statues that shield his presence perfectly from the event happening inside.
Slowly, you tiptoe your way to where he is before a pair of hands grab your waist, spinning you around.
A quiet gasp leaves your lips at the sudden motion, but the rest of your breath quickly gets stuck in your throat once you find yourself caught between the stone and Bucky, who still has one hand on your waist and the other pressing an index finger to his lips, demanding silence.
He's close, so close that you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.
"Sorry," he says quietly "saw one of the guards nearby. But we're in the clear now." He gives you a mischievous smile and steps back to give you more space.
"It's alright." You say shyly.
"But... Bucky, how did you..." You trail off and look over at the walls that stand tall over the both of you. Bucky follows your gaze and smirks knowingly at what you want to know.
"Well, it wasn't an easy climb but-"
"You climbed that!?" You cut him off to whisper yell at him.
"But" A hand comes back to your waist as he repeats himself "I told you I wanted to see you again, remember?"
Heat floods your cheeks at his admission. And despite the dark sky with light only coming from the event behind the glass doors and the moonlight illuminating him in the quiet darkness of the atmosphere, you pick up a dust of blush on his cheeks.
"I... didn't think you'd want to see me now." You tell him honestly. "I thought you'd want to take me to... coffee, or something" the softness in your voice is the most gentle sound to reach his ears.
"I can take you for coffee" He chuckles.
"I can definitely take you out for coffee, bunny."
The way he's looking at you feels like a deep, velvet blue with a quiet warmth. His eyes convey a multitude of emotions that you can't quite decipher, but they're there. There's a sparkle in them.
"How do you get them to do that?" You ask.
He can't help but let out another chuckle at your unpredictability.
"Do what, bun?"
"To shine like that."
Bucky is take aback for a moment before smiling.
"Honestly? By looking at you."
· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The coffee date happens on the next Sunday. He picks you up after Sunday Mass behind the cathedral and you show up in your usual white, knee-length dress. You know that its a date. He told you it would be.
'When are you free next, bunny?' He had asked you that night at the garden.
'Hmm?' You ask him in a dazed state, too caught up in your feelings at how wanted and seen you feel by him.
'So I can take you out on that coffee date. You're okay with it being a date, right?'
That's how you've found yourself behind the cathedral with the excuse to your mother being tutoring sessions with a friend after Sunday Mass. She had nodded approvingly at you for prioritizing your studies, and you had felt a rush at how you've rebelled against your mothers wishes for the first time in your life.
Bucky pushes himself from against the wall and greets you with an arm over your shoulder "Ready, bunny?"
One coffee date turns into two, and then three. He brings you to places around Rivercreek and the novelty of the area to you makes every date feel like an adventure.
'You can't come here on your own, alright?' He reminds you every time. 'I'm being serious, bunny. The people here aren't always good. I won't always be there to protect ya if you come alone.'
You want to giggle at him for his protectiveness, reassure him that you doubt anything like that will happen because 'you have him anyway.'
He pinches your cheek gently at your stubbornness, but can't deny how your bratty side makes his heart beat a little faster. He enjoys bringing out the bold side in you, aware that its something you push down most of the time due to your strict parents.
Eventually, you end up meeting Steve and Sam in the shop during one of your dates.
"So this is her, Buck? The girl thats been stealing you away lately?" Sam teases him, earning him a playful shove by Bucky while Steve gives you a polite smile.
"We've heard a lot about you..." Steve starts respectfully. "Bunny" the playful glint in his eye is hard to miss, which causes you to blush in embarrassment.
Bucky groans at the teasing from his two best friends, but the rest of the day is spent enjoyably.
You learn more about his childhood, the trouble he got into in his younger years, and feel a sense of fraternity between the three of them that makes you jealous.
You tell them that you wish you had friends as close as he does, but a lot of your childhood was spent in tutoring lessons and more family events to maintain your family's status and appearances at Oakley.
· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
After Bucky brings you home that day, he's met with Steve and Sam still at the shop. Both of them have knowing grins on their faces which makes Bucky roll his eyes.
"No" he tells them immediately which earns groans from both his friends.
"Come on, don't be like that. Its been ages since you've started dating again." Sam approaches him with a silly grin.
"We're just curious, man." Steve starts. "That, and... Well..." the rest of his sentence trails off awkwardly.
"That, and we want to know got you dating an Oakley girl" Sam finishes bluntly. "You hate those folk."
Bucky pretends not to give them his full attention by fixing his toolbox.
"I told you already, she ain't like them." He sighs. "She's different from them. She... she's more than the Oakley stereotypes"
The way he defended you earns him more teasing from his friends, but after meeting you today? They can't help but agree.
"You got a good one, Buck. You're happier and that's all that matters" Steve tells him genuinely.
"But you know how Oakley ad Rivercreek don't mix well. This won't all be smooth waters for the both of you."
The reminder stings, but Bucky knew what he was getting into as soon as it started. He appreciates his friend's words, but he would have liked to live in the illusion of being worry-free and happy with you for a little while longer.
"I know, Stevie." His hands fiddle with one of the loose threads on his jacket nervously as he thinks about all that could go wrong with dating you.
There will be a lot of naysay, people who will shake their head at the sight of you two together, your parents disapproving of him, and the fact that he may not be able to keep up with the lifestyle you're used to.
He wonders, do you think of this too?
"But she's worth it. I know she is."
Steve claps him on the back at that "Good luck, Buck."
· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Its a few months into dating when Bucky takes you to one of his favorite spots around town.
'Place is special,' he told you when you asked where you were going.
'No one else knows about it, not even Stevie.'
'I bet you say that to all the girls' you had tease him cutely.
He looks back at you with a playful glint in his eye. 'Just you, bunny.'
The spot he leads you to is a lake covered by the green haze of trees. Sun rays glinting brightly in the clear waters. He lays out a yellow blanket over the dew blades of grass that look to be sparkling in the sunlight.
"It's beautiful, Bucky... I feel like I'm in a fairytale" your fingers brush a dandelion next to you as you lay down, letting the flower heads escape the stem and float around you.
"That's how you make me feel all the time, bun." Bucky lays next to you on the blanket, your shoulders touching as you both watch the drift of clouds overhead.
"Oh stop it, you." You giggle at his words.
Bucky rolls himself up on his stomach so that he's facing you. Your faces inches from each other now.
"I'm serious, bunny... The time I've been spending with you?" He presses a quick kiss on your forehead, "They've been the happiest I've ever been."
Your face is hot, and he's so, so close.
"Bucky..." you say his name shyly. His kiss on your forehead makes you blush, and while he's feathered light kisses there and on your cheek before, he hasn't kissed you properly yet in his promise to take things slow for you.
"I love you, bunny."
Bucky tells you confidently, as if its the most sure thing he's ever had to admit.
"Ever since I first laid eyes on you in that cathedral, I think I've already loved you." He admits further which causes your breath to hitch, and your whole body to freeze as you process his confession.
"I can take care of you just as good as any Oakley boy can. I'll prove it to ya, I'll be the best damn guy for ya."
The promises he speaks are spoken in hushed tones, but you hear every word. Bucky keeps his closeness to your body on that blanket. Your shock causes you to unable to form a reply, but Bucky doesn't seem to mind.
Instead, he brings his hand up to brush the stray hairs away from your face before cupping it gently in his palm.
"Will you let me, bunny? Will you let me take care of you?"
"I love you." You tell him breathlessly, "I love you too, Bucky Barnes."
His grin is wide and his eyes sparkle brighter than they ever had before. 'Honestly? By looking at you' are the words you recall him telling you when you had asked him how they get them to do that.
Your reciprocation of love is all the answer he needs to bring his face down to yours to capture your lips in a kiss. The movement is slow and gentle. He kisses you as if you're fragile, delicate. As if holding you too tightly or kissing you too hard will break you.
"I'll be so good to ya," He murmurs against your lips "I love you, I love you bunny. You understand that, right? Better than any Oakley boy ever will. I promise"
Bucky continues to tell you because he thinks no amount of words, no matter how many times he says it, will equate to the feelings he's carrying right now.
Your heart aches at his admission, because deep down you both know how your different backgrounds could cause problems down the line.
"Bucky, you know I don't care about the Oakley and Rivercreek stuff." You hope your reassurance reaches his worries.
"I know, bunny." He pulls away to get a good look at you. You can finally name the emotion his eyes have been communicating to you at that moment: love, longing.
"Let's just be happy right now, yeah?"
You're brought home that day before the sun goes down.
He drops you off at your porch, kissing you goodbye very quickly just in case your parents are peeking. He waits for the door to close before retreating back to the car he picked you up in.
The door shuts and you lean against it for a moment, allowing your heart to take a break from the love Bucky had showed it all day. You're smiling to yourself when-
"Out late today, aren't we?" Your mother's voice cuts through the warm air you've created for yourself with an icy cold tone. She stands on top of the staircase, looking down at your figure by the door.
"Who is he? The one who brought you home in that... junk" She glares harshly at Bucky's retreating figure heading towards his car.
"Mother, t-that's... That's Bucky. He's, um..." You stammer nervously, frantically trying to flatten your wrinkled dress and unkept hair.
"Are you sleeping with him?" Her voice cuts through once again and her steps down the stairway sound menacing as she makes her way over to you.
"What?! Mother!" The redness from your cheeks comes from both embarrassment and anger.
"Is he from Rivercreek?" She asks you.
You're unable to form a reply. You knew it was just a matter of time before your relationship with Bucky got caught, and you've made sure to rehearse the answer in your head multiple times when the moment presented itself, but right now your voice feels like its stuck in your throat.
Apparently that is all the confirmation your mother needed as she sighs disappointedly.
"I've known you to let this family down numerous times, but to be associated with a Rivercreek boy?" Her voice raises an octave.
"This is a new level of low, even for you."
"Mother, please. It's not like that-"
As usual, she refuses to listen.
"Have you no shame for your family name? People from down there are using you for one thing-!"
"No, you're wrong. He's nothing like that..." Your voice is weak at your attempt to fight back against her, but you try anyway. Bucky would have wanted you to try and speak up for yourself.
"He's after you for status! Money!-"
"Mother I love him!"
The space between the both of you turns quiet. Your chest is heaving from anger, and the shock you feel from answering back at your mother for the first time.
"Stupid girl, what do you know about love?" She says coldly before sending you to your room.
"You can't see him again, do you understand? If we find out you've been going behind our backs, he's done."
You lay in bed rethinking the words she spoke. You're aware of how powerful your family is. One wave of a finger can have Bucky in a problematic position, his business gone or even removed from town entirely.
The sentimentality Bucky has for his place in Rivercreek is no stranger to you, either. You hardly think that a relationship with you is worth losing everything he's built.
· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The next few days has Bucky spiraling. He asks himself if he's done anything wrong, if he said something to upset you or if his confession at the lake came off too strong.
But the tenderness in his heart? The way his brain replays your voice telling him you love him at every waking hour? It makes him believe that he's done everything right.
He reads through the messages he sent you, all filled with worry yet left unanswered.
Bunny, are you okay?
Please tell me if I did something wrong.
Can I see you tonight? I'm worried, bun.
I love you. Please let me know if you're alright.
He showed up at your house once, in the dead of the night, waiting underneath your window.
The light in your room reassures him that you're alright. You're still there physically, but he's yet to feel an ounce of your attention.
Bunny, I'm outside. Just look out for a bit to let me know you're fine, yeah?
You don't.
Bucky waits for the next Sunday to arrive in hopes of getting hold of you, even just for a few minutes. He hates to corner you like this, but he's desperate. You'd understand him showing up like this, won't you?
The way he leans into his parked bike at the steps of the cathedral you frequent takes him back to the days where he used to pine after you, watching you longingly from afar.
He was nothing to you back then.
He shakes his head at the thought. Bucky refuses to go back to being nothing with you, not after you told each other you loved each other, not after he finally felt what it was like to be yours.
Like clockwork, the huge wooden doors open once Sunday worship ends and the Oakley folk flock out the cathedral like sheep. And again, like clockwork, his eyes immediately find you.
Black leather pushes its way through the flock of white clothing towards you. He ignores the grunts of disapproval as someone from Rivercreek infiltrates their sacred space.
The crowd parts for him like he's plagued with nothing but ill intentions, unbeknownst to them all he carries is a heart yearning for you.
You stand picture perfect right outside the doors, too busy fiddling with the strap of your bag to notice the commotion he's caused at the entrance.
The sight of you in full view takes his breath away and almost makes him forget the reason why he's taken stepped inside a church in the first place.
The way you finally look up at him with wide eyes snaps him back to reality.
"Bucky-" You start but are cut off by his hand pulling you into a closed space. A confession room, he realizes once you've made your way inside.
"Wanna tell me what this is all about, bunny?" He asks, staring at you with a hard, fixed gaze. His voice is harsh and it almost makes him feel guilty for using a tone with you that's anything less than gentle, but the affect of being ignored by you for the last few days has him feeling on edge.
"Bucky... You can't be here. You need to leave-" you whisper, words falling into a murmur.
"You're telling me to leave you alone now?" Bucky is anything but discreet in his response, which makes you flinch and panic at volume of his voice. At this moment, he's too desperate to understand the situation to care about who could hear.
"After what happened at the lake... After telling me that you love me" He breathes in deeply. "You're telling me to just... Leave you alone?"
"Shh!" You shush him quietly. "Please, Bucky. You can't let them catch you with me... They- They found out" You admit to him with a heartbroken expression.
It makes sense to him now, why you've been ignoring him. He knew this was going to happen eventually. Steve had warned him, and he's been aware of the... backlash that was sure to follow as soon as he started taking you out.
"Forget about me, Bucky. It's not worth it. They'll ruin you if we keep this up." Your hushed voice turns into a small sob as you speak the words that break his heart.
"I can't do that." He speaks softly and bring you closer to press a kiss on your tearful cheeks.
"I can't do that, baby. You know I can't. I love you."
"You don't understand! The lengths they'll go to keep you away from me... You'll lose everything because of me, Bucky!" Your voice is desperate now.
"Then I'll have you" he says quickly in response. "I'll have you and that's everything I'll ever need."
He doesn't expect you to push him away at those words, angrier and a little more desperate now to get through to him.
From outside the confession room, you hear your mother's voice outside calling for you. The both of you jump at the sound of her voice.
"Bucky, enough!" You whisper yell at him "Don't... Don't try anymore, okay? This isn't worth it."
If he thought his heart was breaking earlier, it's definitely wrecked now.
"What are you saying, bunny?"
"I'm saying... that if you ever did love me you'd stop."
The problem with Bucky Barnes is that he was a devoted lover. If you told him to pick the highest peach from a tree, he'd climb it immediately without question. If you told him you wanted pearls, he'd fish out the whole ocean for the best one.
If you told Bucky Barnes to let you go, he'd do it even if it killed him.
· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
"Buck, come on. You've been like this for weeks." Steve comments as Bucky mopes in front of his garage stool, a beer in one hand and his bike keys with the charm you gave him on the other.
It's a little bunny keychain, a fluffy white one holding a pink heart.
'It's for good luck when you're out riding' you had told him cutely.
The dainty charm stands out against his intimidating features when he brings them out his pocket. It earns him odd looks from his friends and passers-by but he never paid them any mind.
He imagines the bunny as a piece of you he carries when he rides, which makes him more careful and aware on the road in his determination to keep you safe.
Bucky can't help but let out a sad chuckle at the memory when he fiddles with the bunny that looks too much like you.
"Give me a break, Stevie." he finally answers his friend. "Should've listened to you. You knew this was going to end badly" the defeat in his voice is new to Steve, making him wince at his friend's sadness.
"Hey, don't say that, Buck." Steve attempts to make him feel better. "Oakley and Rivercreek relationships are just... complicated, you know? You guys tried your best."
Although Steve was trying to comfort him, his words did nothing but dig Bucky into a deeper hole of despair.
He hadn't tried hard enough. He thought to himself. But your desperate expression when you told him to leave you alone holds him back from chasing after you.
Its silent for a moment, with only the faint hum of the television that hangs overhead serving as white noise.
Bucky is about to close shop for the day, too tired to have this conversation with his friend who means well, when the next segment of the local news channel starts playing which stops him in his tracks.
Oakley Association's 50th Anniversary Gala: Families within Oakley commemorate their golden year by raising millions of dollars for charity! Led by association head...
The camera cuts to a close up shot of you and your family at the same ballroom with the garden he snuck in to see you all those months ago.
Its the typical event you see Oakley families attend, but he knows that look of yours.
Your eyes are lacking the life they usually have, the sunlight you radiate is dull and bleak. You look as if you haven't had a good sleep in days. you look like you need him.
"Bun..." He mutters to himself when he sees you.
"You're going over there, aren't you Buck?" Steve asks.
Bucky responds by bringing out his keys- the bunny charm smiling up at him cutely, and sending Steve a look from over his shoulder
"You'll lock up for me, Stevie?"
· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Oakley's charity gala is yet another event that you are too familiar with.
The pastel yellow dress your mother had picked out for you is a disparity to the gloom clouding your chest. The pearls decorating your neck feel like chains grounding you to your role of a show dog for your family name.
"Smile" your mother reprimands you when she sees the sulk on your face.
"Many are watching. Your father paid a good amount of money for the headlines to feature us tonight." She reminds you.
"Wasn't it supposed to be for charity?" Your tone carries venom in them as you answer back once again. You've been doing that a lot lately. Bucky would have been proud of you.
Bucky.
Your heart shatters at the thought of him. The pain in your chest is a cruel reminder of how you had ripped his heart out in that confession room when you told him to leave you alone.
He was the only one to actually see you as more than your family name. The way he understands you down to the smallest of details is something that no one else can replicate.
Your mother shoots you one of her cold glares when you answer her back. She is tired of disciplining you with lectures about respect and adherence, and has taken a new method of punishment.
Suitors.
For the entirety of the night, you are being introduced to the most eligible bachelors of Oakley. Without a doubt a way for your mother to remind you of the other fish in the sea, but you only want one.
The smile you wear is polite, and you speak in a courteous manner, not having it in you to act unmannerly to strangers that don't deserve unkindness. Some of the men are very aggressive in their advances, aware that the dating pool in Oakley is very limited.
By the end of the night, you're exhausted. Your feet hurt, the dress is suffocating, and there are way too many people. All these factors pile up to overwhelm you, causing your eyes to embarrassingly water in the middle of the ballroom.
"Pull yourself together, child." Your mother says through clenched teeth.
"Do not embarrass us right now."
Eventually, you can't take it. You exit the huge ballroom doors quickly and make it out the garden. Its the same place where Bucky met you in that first time. The memory of seeing him behind one of the garden statues is enough for the dam to break.
You let out a small sob. Your chest tightening at the release of tension following the events of the night.
"Bunny?"
Bucky's voice cuts through the silence of the night air. You can still hear the faint, muffled sounds coming from the ballroom behind you, but Bucky's voice is clear in your ears.
"What... Bucky?"
"Over here, bunny. I was just about to text ya."
He stands next to one of the rosebushes, slightly hidden by the shadows that the moonlight illuminated over the landscape.
His hair is disheveled as if he's been running his hands through it multiple times. The sparkle in his eyes have dulled, but are still there when he looks at you.
Once he gets a proper look at you, his face falls into a frown.
"Who made you cry, bun?"
His immediate concern makes your heart ache. Even after telling him away, his first instinct is to check on you.
You can't take it anymore. You cry out before running down the steps of the platform towards him, throwing yourself in his arms.
"I'm here." He says after he catches your fall. Of course he does.
"I'm here, bunny. I'll protect you." He whispers into your hair.
"It's too much." You say through tears, muffled because of how you're burying your face in his chest.
"I can't take it anymore. All this bullshit they're making me do."
Bucky's arm tightens around your waist, the other hand strokes the back of your head in comfort. You stay in his arms for a moment, remembering how safe you feel when you're with him.
He lets you cry it out while whispering words of comfort 'I've got you, bun. Won't let them hurt you. I'm here.' He repeats just as many times as you need him to.
You calm down eventually, lifting your head to meet his gaze properly.
"How did you know?" is all you ask. He doesn't need any further explanation to answer.
"Saw the press release on the TV. They showed you and I couldn't... I couldn't just leave you there, not when you looked so... unhappy." His hand reaches up to cup your face, thumb lightly tracing your jaw.
"You came for me." You look up at him with so much love in your eyes that you feel his breath hitch.
"You needed me." He replies with a gentle voice, as if its the most obvious explanation.
The look he has reciprocates your own, making you sniffle back tears. That action makes you scrunch up your nose in the way he loves.
A fond smile appears on his face as he watches that little scrunch in between your brows form.
"Bunny..." He says softly. "My bunny."
Bucky kisses you. The first kiss since your declaration of love at the lake. It's still just as soft and sweet as you remember, but there is a new push of longing etched onto it.
You kiss him back with the same amount, showing just how much you've missed him.
"Want me to get ya out of here?" He speaks against your lips.
"What? Bucky-"
"I'm not letting you stay in there any longer, bunny."
He's right. You don't think you can physically or emotionally take the misery of being surrounded by pretentious rich folk, much less your preposterous mother and her impossible expectations.
"Just say the word and we're gone, bunny." Bucky's voice snaps you out of your thoughts.
"I... Yes." You breathe in deeply. "Yes, please, I want to get out of here." You repeat more confidently.
Bucky grins, gives you a reassuring squeeze on your waist before taking your hand in his and leading you further into the garden.
You follow him wordlessly before looking up at the high wall that divides the ballroom's garden from the rest of the world.
"Bucky, I don't think I can-"
"I'm not gonna let you scale a wall, bun." Bucky cuts you off with a slightly amused tone. "Wouldn't dream of it. Too dangerous for ya."
Instead, he leads you to the side of the building that passes just outside the event venue.
"We're using the main entrance?" Your steps falter once you realize where he's leading you.
"They won't notice. Everyone is too busy and drunk inside." He tells you. "You trust me, baby?"
"Yes." You say almost immediately. "Of course."
The smile Bucky flashes at your words is enough to make you forget all your worry. "Then let's go."
Just as he says, you make it out of the gala and into the bike he's parked a few paces away.
"I know you don't like the bike, but I didn't think I'd be stealing you away tonight." Bucky says sheepishly. "We can walk-"
"No, let's take the bike tonight."
Reluctantly, you get on the bike with Bucky's assistance while he chuckles at your attempt at putting on a brave face for him.
"Relax, bunny. I'll drive slowly." He reassures you. You believe him.
The ride back to his place isn't as bad as you expected. You enter through the garage where he parks his bike and are greeted with the satisfying and familiar smell of earth and wood.
The polaroid that you took together is still pinned on one of his boards, next to the car blueprints and documents that he needs for the job.
"Never took it off. Couldn't bring myself to." He says without looking up at from his bike as he secures the lock on its handlebars.
"Always felt like it was never really the end, you know? Of us."
You hum in agreement and continue looking at the polaroid. It was taken a few months back on one of the first dates he took you on.
'Whatcha got there, bun?' He had asked you while you were fishing out something from your bag.
'Brought something for us, took it right out of father's study.' In your hand is a polaroid camera. The expensive kind Bucky has only seen on store shelves.
He lets out a low whistle at the costly item.
'Ya taking things from your parents now, bunny? Am I rubbing off on you the wrong way?' He jokes.
The idea of his sweet innocent bunny doing rebellious things amuses him. To him, she's the type that would frown upon jaywalking.
'Oh, hush you. I'm just borrowing it.' You slap his arm playfully. 'Come on now, say cheese.'
You bring the camera up and snap the photo just as Bucky lands a sweet kiss to your cheek.
The moment lays frozen in time on his pegboard.
As you continue to reminisce, you feel Bucky's warm figure creep up behind you. Strong arms encircle your waist pulling you so close that you feel his breath at the back of your neck. He lands a kiss on your nape, making you shiver.
"Missed ya." He whispers. "Was going crazy without ya."
Instinctively, you lean into his touch, pressing your back closer to his chest as he continues trailing kisses down your neck.
"M-missed you too." Your breathing gets heavier as his lips tickle your skin in all the sensitive spots.
"Bucky..." You warn shyly as he starts getting handsy with you- pulling you closer and kissing down your neck with more vigor than before.
"I can stop," he pauses, lips tickling your skin, "but I can also make you feel good, bunny. Do you want me to make you feel good?"
The offer is tempting, and you want so desperately to just let yourself feel the man that you've missed so dearly.
However, your lack of experience in comparison to Bucky holds you back. Sure, you've kissed boys before, but you've never done... that. Your strict parents have always been a crutch in allowing you to experience anything more intimate than kissing.
"I don't know... I-I've never- I don't know how, Bucky." You stutter shamefully at your cluelessness.
"That's alright, bunny. I know." Bucky presses one last deep kiss on the column of your neck. "You just let me show you, yeah? Are you okay with that?"
You nod your head shyly.
"Words, bun." He pushes
"Yes. I-I'm okay with that." you tell him.
At your confirmation, Bucky spins you around to face him.
"If we're going to do this, I'll make sure to do everything right." His words have that seriousness to them as he looks at you with that familiar glint of a sparkle in his eyes.
"Come upstairs with me."
· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
When you get upstairs, Bucky pulls you in almost immediately into a kiss and pushes you against the door to close it. You gasp into his mouth at the sudden movement, making him breathe out a chuckle against your lips.
"Sorry," he says cheekily "Just... missed you so damn much. Got excited."
You giggle at his eagerness and kiss him back just as hard.
"Take me then, Bucky. I'm all yours."
He lets out a low growl at that, fingers bringing up the hem of your yellow dress from the gala.
"Yeah? Never stopped being mine, right? Even when we were apart?" His question feels more like a statement, but you love how possessive he is with you.
"Yours" you repeat.
His hands slide your dress up to your waist before pulling you closer to him. You can feel how hard he is through his pants when he presses against you.
Before you could let out a moan at the slight friction, Bucky pulls you into a rougher kiss before spinning you around from the door frame to fall on his bed.
You lay there sprawled out- hair a mess, yellow dress wrinkled and bunched up to your thighs, but Bucky thinks its the most ethereal sight he's ever seen.
"Beautiful," he whispers as he pulls away to take in the sight of you "I'll take good care of you bun."
"You already do." You sigh lovingly as his hands find the zipper at the back of your dress.
The fabric covering you is removed so slowly and carefully, as if Bucky is afraid to accidentally break you if you're not handled as anything less than fragile.
You hear his breath hitch in your throat as you lay under him, almost completely bare if it weren't for the white lace panties that you still have on.
"God, bunny. You're gonna kill me."
He kisses you again sensually, hands roaming more freely than they've ever gone before- from your waist, up the curve of the sides of your stomach, until they land gently on your breasts.
His hand gropes at the flesh while the other hand pins you in place by the hip. You moan at the feeling of his tender touch which makes him trail his mouth to your ear.
"That feel good?" He whispers.
Shyly, you nod at him.
"I'm gonna touch you more now, alright? You tell me to stop and we stop. Got that?"
"Don't stop." Your words reach him in a breathless whisper, urging him to continue on.
His lips trail downwards, kissing down your collarbone to the curve of your breast. Hand continuing to massage and play with the other. You feel his lips lick up at the bud, the new and wet feeling making you moan.
"F-fuck, Bucky." It's almost embarrassing how you're already a mess under him when he's barely even started.
"That's alright, bunny. Let it out- let me know I'm making you feel good." The words of reassurance are spoken to you as if he can read what you're thinking. He gives one last lick on your nipple before attaching his lips to the other side to give it the same treatment.
The hand that was on your hips travels further down to the hem of your lace panties. You gasp at his touch but don't make an effort to tell him to stop.
"Bet you're wet already," he says smugly. "You're already so responsive to my mouth on your tits."
Bucky chuckles when he sees your eyes widen and face flush at his lewd words. He hates to admit, but your innocence and lack of experience is turning him on.
His hands dip down, still on top of the fabric and not taking it off you just yet. When his fingers meet your center, you both let out a rough exhale at the wetness that has pooled there.
"No ones ever touched you here, right bunny?"
He makes his thumb glide up and down your entrance, covered by the thin lace which creates a delicious friction on your clit. You shake your head unable to form any words except for the soft moans escaping you.
He chuckles again at your desperate state.
"What a pure fucking pussy..." He sighs, obviously turned on. "All for me to ruin." The pressure he puts against your core increases, making you whine for him louder.
"B-Bucky-!" You're so, so wet that you can hear your juices squelching against your panties as he continues thumbing at the entrance of your pussy. Every brush of his thumb drags the lace down on your clit which makes you gasp out.
"That's it, baby... You like that? Haven't even started and you're already this wet... Fuck." His eyes darken as he watches you dampen both his fingers and your panties.
You want to tell him to stop teasing you, to take them off and touch you properly- but its as if he's turned on by the thin barrier blocking him off from your sweetness.
He moves his body down to be in level with your core. Before you can comprehend what's happening, you feel his tongue lap up at your pussy in one long and hard stroke against the fabric.
"A-ah!" The sound that leaves you is in between a cry and a moan. "Bucky, please!"
"Please what, bunny?" He teases by eating you out through the fabric of your underwear. The material is so thin that you can feel his hot tongue moving against you almost completely, but its still not enough.
"T-take them off... Please." You sob from the pleasure.
"Yeah?" He sucks your clit hard, earning a louder cry from you. "You want me to eat your needy cunt, bunny? Want me to taste you proper?" He makes you feel the warmth of his mouth on your clit as he sucks and licks.
"Yes!" You moan loudly. "Yes, oh god, please!"
Bucky is enchanted by the sight. His sweet and innocent girl making a mess for him on his bed, on his tongue. He can't deny you any longer.
"There's no god here, bunny." He rips the ruined lace from your legs. "Just me."
Finally, he dives down to lick you from top to bottom. Completely catching the wetness at your entrance and bringing it to your clit before sucking it into his mouth.
"Ohh fuck," you cry out, lost in pleasure that you become unaware of the lewd moans you're making.
A finger joins his mouth in pleasuring you, rockin git back and forth until he hits the spot that makes you see stars.
"R-right there! Yes-fuck!"
"Yeah? Right there, bunny? Right fucking there?" He continues his work on your clit with his mouth, while finger-fucking you to the edge.
You can feel yourself about to come. The coil in your stomach tightens and the warmth in your core bracing itself for what's about to happen. He feels you tighten around his fingers, and your hips squirm to get away from the onslaught he has on your pussy.
"Gonna cum, bunny?" He mutters against your pussy, making the vibrations push you closer to the edge.
"T-too much, Bucky-! C-can't...!"
"Just feel, bun." He says against your clit in between lapping up against it. He presses his arm on top of your stomach to keep you from squirming.
"Feel it, bunny. Let go for me. Cum on my tongue."
Heat washes over your whole body. You do exactly as you're told and cum on his tongue generously, which he licks at with a moan. For a moment, you lose all sense of presence and can only focus on the pleasure washing over you.
"So fucking good..." He says while drinking you up. "Did so good for me, baby."
Once you've calmed down, Bucky brings himself back up to kiss your forehead. "You okay?"
When you nod your head, Bucky breathes a sigh of relief.
"Lost you for a second there, thought you were going to pass out."
You let out a weak giggle.
"Still want more of you, though..." You bring your hands up to Bucky's shirt to pull it off his head, and moan at the sight of his chiseled body.
He kisses you as he takes off his pants as well, leaving him in just his boxers.
"We don't have to-" he tries to say.
"I want to, please."
Bucky nods at your reassurance, laying you down and propping a pillow underneath your hips. 'It'll feel better with the pillow there' he had told you.
Once he's set you laid out properly on the bed, he props himself on his elbows hovering above you.
"I'll be gentle." He says genuinely, eyes locked on yours lovingly.
"I know, I trust you." You reply back to his sincerity with your own.
He takes a moment to position himself outside your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock outside to lube himself with your juices. Slowly, you feel him press the tip inside you.
There's a sudden stretch that you feel, making you gasp at the foreign sensation.
"Still okay?" He pauses to ask.
"Keep going, Bucky..."
Encouraged by your words, he continues pushing in slowly, slowly, until he's fully sheathed inside you. It stings and the pressure it places on your lower half is stinging.
But when you look up, Bucky's face is contorted in pleasure. The tightness of your walls, the way you feel so warm, and wet, and soft makes him feel like he's in heaven.
"Fuckkk- bunny," Bucky groans and rests his head on your shoulder as your warmth encompasses him. He struggles not to move and you can see how it pains him to stay still in order for you to adjust.
"J-just, tell me if- if you can't- fuck" his words come out in gasps and heavy breaths. He can barely form a coherent sentence.
"You can move, Buck." you tell him with a shaky breath.
"Sure, bun?"
After giving him a look of certainty, with a nod he thrusts in shallowly. Any big movements can wait till later, his main priority now is to make sure you don't get hurt.
"Shit, bunny. You're so tight." He groans lowly as his thrusts get deeper. "You feel so fucking good, baby."
After a few particular thrusts, you start feeling sparks of pleasure overriding the pain.
"Mmm, Bucky..." You moan softly.
"Yeah? That good, bun? You like how I'm fucking you?" He asks you, panting as he begins to pick up the pace.
His thrusts get more confident now that you're showing signs of pleasure. The length of his cock still stretches you out and stings, but you love how good he's filling you up.
"O-oh!" You arch your back at a certain spot that he finds. Its the same one he was hitting with his fingers earlier, but deeper. The pillow underneath your hips tilts your body at a position that makes him hit you deeper.
Bucky continues to drill that spot, hitting it with every thrust until you find yourself at the edge again. You can feel him twitch inside you, signaling that he's close.
"I'm not gonna last, bunny." He tells you in a low voice. "I need ya to finish again for me."
His thumb finds your clit again. Its a soft touch, but its enough to bring you closer. You can feel how wet you are as it spreads to your thighs, and Bucky can feel it coat all over his dick.
"I-I'm..." you trail off, mind going blank as he continues to chase both your highs.
"That's it, let go. Cum with me, bunny" he urges you.
You cum with a high pitched moan, clutching onto him as you let yourself go for the second time that night.
"Fuckkkk, bun." he groans as he follows after you, filling you up to the hilt and milking himself completely until he's emptied his load into you.
The bed dips as he crashes next to you, completely spent and with a satisfied, tired smile on his face.
"That was..." You trail off.
"Yeah." He agrees. "I love you, you know that?"
"I do, Bucky. I love you, too." turning to face him, you get a good view of of your favorite shade of blue encompassing the sparkle that rests in his pupils.
For a moment you both forget the troubles that wait for you outside the safety of his home.
"Bunny... I'll fight for us, you know that?" He breaks the comfortable silence between the both of you. "I won't let them take you away from me again."
"Bucky..." you trail off.
"I promised you I'd take care of you, didn't I?" The words spoken between are soft and gentle, a tone he only seems to carry with you, yet carry so much weight. "I'll prove it to them, to everyone, that I can be enough for you."
"Bucky, you don't need to prove anything to anyone." You tell him sincerely. "I love you, and maybe that's all that matters."
For now, at least, you both settle into each other's embrace without any worries.
For now, love is all that matters. You'll worry about the hardships that face you in the morning.
it wasn’t until rafe was halfway through kissing down your neck, one heavy hand planted beside your head while the other rested warm against your waist, that your eyes would suddenly flutter open wide.
“wait.”
rafe freeze immediately, lifting his head just enough to squint down at you. his hair is messy from your fingers, his expression already edged with irritation.
“what now, bunny?”
your cheeks burn as you glanced over his shoulder toward the headboard.
all of them were sitting there.
your stuffed bunnies, your little bears, the pink strawberry plush your grandma got you when you were seven, all lined up neatly against your pillows with their stitched little smiles pointed directly at the bed.
you press your lips together, mortified.
“they can’t look.”
rafe stares at you for a second, dead silent.
then he’d let out a slow breath through his nose.
“you’re kidding.”
“i’m serious,” you whisper, squirming under him. “it’s embarrassing.”
his mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh, but your already be nudging at his shoulder, wide eyes pleading.
“please?”
and because rafe could never say no when you looked at him like that, he pushes himself up with a groan.
“unbelievable.”
you sit up quickly, smoothing down your pink pajama top as you carefully turned each plushie around one by one, making sure none of them were facing the bed.
“there,” you murmur, satisfied. “now they won’t feel awkward.”
“they’re stuffed animals.”
you glance back at him with that little pout he secretly hated because it always made him cave.
“they have feelings.”
rafe dragged a hand down his face. “right. sure they do.”
sometimes, though, if he was already feeling impatient, he wouldn’t bother waiting.
he’d just grab a whole armful of them and toss them dramatically onto the floor.
that was always his mistake.
because the second the soft thumps hit the carpet, your whole face would crumple.
your glossy eyes would dart down to where they’d landed, horrified.
“rafe.”
the way you said his name would make his stomach drop instantly.
“oh, come on.”
you’d already be scrambling off the bed, dropping to your knees to gather them into your arms.
“bunny, it’s a damn pillow with a face stitched on it.”
you’d look up at him, lower lip trembling.
“help me pick them up.”
and just like that, he’d lose. every single time.
with a muttered curse, he’d climb off the bed and crouch beside you, helping collect every last plushie while you directed him on where they belonged.
“daisy goes by the lamp.”
“which one’s daisy?”
“the one with the bow.”
“they all got bows.”
you’d let out a tiny offended gasp, clutching mr. berry protectively to your chest.
“you don’t know them at all!”
“didn’t realize i was expected to memorize your stuffed animal roster.”
still, he’d put them back exactly where you wanted.
and once every plushie was safe and properly arranged, you’d crawl right into his lap, all soft and warm and smelling faintly like strawberries from the lotion you always used.
your arms would loop around his neck, and you’d press a sweet little kiss to his cheek.
“thank you,” you’d murmur. “they’re not upset anymore.”
rafe rolls his eyes, but his hands would settle on your waist, holding you there.
“good. was real worried about what the damn strawberry thought of me.”
you smile, completely missing the sarcasm, and nuzzle closer.
“i knew you’d help. you’re nicer than you pretend to be.”
DESC: Joel takes you home from the bar and pops your cherry ♡
TAGS: No Outbreak, Sleazy!Joel, Innocent!Reader, Virgin!Reader, Virginity Loss, One-Night Stand, Age Gap (old!man Joel x young woman reader), smut obvi, pussy pronouns, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, accidental creampie, lil bit of fluff
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Joel was a sick man, he knew it.
It was hard to give a damn when his years of loneliness had him walking around half-crazed at the sight of any pretty little thing that walked by him. He had his occasional hookups, but work had him so busy and so bone-tired, it was a rarity that he actually got laid at all.
So when he had the seemingly one-in-a-lifetime to chase some tail, he took it. It was his night off, the first in what felt like a very long time. He went to his local dive bar, knowing he’d find exactly what he was looking for. The thick scent of tobacco smoke and late-night sleaze filled his lungs as he pushed through the door, breathing it in and sighing like it was fresh air.
He spotted you almost immediately, your petite form sat stiffly on a barstool. You looked out of place, your pretty eyes darting around the room, your fingers gripping your drink a little too tight. Clearly, you weren’t used to being in seedy places like this. Joel also couldn’t help but notice how the men around you were looking, their eyes fixed on the way your dress rode up to expose your creamy thighs, just like he was. In a place like this, you were like a little bunny among a den of wolves.
Despite being a particularly old and haggard wolf himself, he took it upon himself to be your protector, to shield you from these old perverts. It was the pot calling the kettle black. He sat down on the stool beside you, delighting in the way you almost flinched, looking over to him with wide eyes.
You never went into bars, not really. Maybe once or twice with friends, but it really wasn’t your scene. This night, however, prompted a change in scenery. You felt so frustrated, tired of living a monotonous life that consisted only of school, work, and home. You didn’t have many friends, and your dating life was non-existent. You craved adventure, something that reversed the numbness you always felt- something that made you feel alive.
You decided to go to the dive bar by your apartment, hoping maybe you’d find some adventure, maybe a little trouble- something new. Worst-case scenario- besides maybe being roofied or kidnapped or something- was you’d get wasted and call an uber home, which was only about seven or eight minutes away. Once you actually got inside and sat down for a drink, you began having second thoughts. Your determination had gotten you this far, but you were easily spooked. You knew you were being watched, the men across the room playing darts constantly eyeing you, some guys a few seats down at the bar were, too. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all- or so you’d thought.
But then that tall, dark, and handsome older man sat beside you, and you began to feel like maybe this night would turn out alright. If he wasn’t a serial killer, that is.
“Howdy,” his voice rumbled, hitting something just right inside you that made you almost visibly shiver. Your heartbeat raced, but no longer out of anxiety, but excitement. That vaguely familiar fluttery feeling you hadn’t felt in so long tickled at your insides. He was so hot, you could hardly believe he was real, sitting in front of you. He was wearing a worn flannel shirt, rolled up at the elbow to expose those veiny forearms dusted in hair, his hands big and rough and calloused. He wore a pair of Dickie’s jeans, the denim patchy, the knees faded from work. He was somewhere in his fifties, judging by his weathered skin and the crow’s feet. His eyes were sharp, though- a beautiful hazel with flecks of brown and green that reminded you of earth and soil and trees dappled with sunlight. His hair was dark and a bit unkempt, the wind having blown through it. His beard was scruffy, too, but it looked sexy, not messy.
“Hi,” you murmured awkwardly, your shyness getting the best of you, as usual. You wanted to kick yourself- you could hardly look him in the eye without wanting to blush. The way he smiled at you, relaxed and lopsided, made your stomach twist with something feral. “Name's Joel," he introduced himself, "what brings ya here, all alone?” He asked after you told him your name. “Don’t seem like yer used to this kinda establishment.”
“I’m not,” you admitted sheepishly, “is it that obvious?” Joel barked a laugh, a deep sound that came from his gut. “Sure is- you look scared as all hell, darlin’.” You actually blushed, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment. Sure, you weren’t going to bars every weekend, but you’d at least thought maybe it would look like you’ve been in one before. “I just wanted to let loose a little,” you said truthfully, “isn’t that what you’re here for?” He nodded. “I suppose it is.” The bartender slid him a glass of whiskey, to which Joel nodded his head in acknowledgement or gratitude- something between the two. He took a drink, his eyes never leaving you. Your leg crossed over the other, not minding the way his eye darted to the exposed skin. He set his glass down, fingers drumming on the counter.
“You lookin’ for anything else?” He asked, his eyes questioning. The fluttering in your tummy intensified. “Yes,” you answered, hating how girlish you sounded. You were a grown woman, for God’s sake- you were allowed to be a flirt, show a man what you wanted. Despite your very awkward demeanor and your lack of flirting skills, he looked just about ready to pounce. Maybe he liked the whole shy and innocent vibe, which made you feel a little more confident.
“Take me home?” The words left your mouth before you could really think them through, realizing maybe it was a little too forward. You weren’t sure how this worked- maybe you should’ve flirted more, danced around what you wanted, savored the anticipation, but you were feeling desperate. Your gaze had flicked down at the bulge in his jeans once, twice- maybe three times.
“A bit bold of ya, ain’t it?” He snorted. “You really want me to take you home, doll?” You nodded, eager and desperate and too needy to care. He finished his drink and took you by the arm, leading you out to the parking lot where his rickety old Ford truck was parked. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you inside, then got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. It was silent as you drove the backroads to his house, nothing but a few feet of road ahead of you visible, illuminated by his headlights.
You watched him as he drove, humming along to the country song playing on the radio. He was so handsome, the wind blowing through his hair, the profile of his nose highlighted by the pale moonlight. You wanted so desperately to kiss him in that moment, but you didn’t want to be a distraction for him, so you simply folded your hands in your lap, anticipating what was to come. You’d never actually slept with anyone before, only fantasized, only knew what you wanted in theory. But something about this man made the dam break within you, your need suddenly overwhelming.
When you got to his house, he quickly got out and went around to open your door, once again taking your hand in his to help you out of the truck. You blushed, unused to a man with manners. It was kind of sad, but a lot of men seemed to lack the whole gentleman vibe. You walked with him into his house, a two-story cabin with a well-trimmed lawn. It was almost picturesque- it made you feel at peace somehow as you stepped through the door. The inside was just as nice as the outside, looking like something out of a magazine- a lot less furnished, though, but you kind of liked it better that way. There were some mounts on the wall, a couple wood-carved figures and picture frames decorating the fireplace.
“You gonna keep snoopin’ around, or ya gonna come to the bedroom?” He asked with a smirk before turning and walking down the hall. You stood still, watching the way his ass moved in his jeans. Goddamn, you thought to yourself. You could tell he could feel your eyes on him because he started sauntering, giving you a show. You giggled and followed him- you were pretty sure you’d follow him anywhere at this point, walking the way he was. Your head was swimming with drink, just enough to loosen you up and lower your inhibitions. You felt bold, less timid than usual.
You walked into his bedroom, taking in the king bed in the center of the room and the scent of cedarwood and something uniquely Joel. You playfully jumped onto the bed, earning a chuckle from him as he followed suit, his weight making the mattress dip beneath him. You blushed as he crawled over you, the urge to hide your face behind your hands overwhelming. Now that you were in his bed with his hands pressed on either side of you, caging you in with his much larger body, the shyness that the alcohol suppressed came back in full force.
“Whas’wrong?” He asked teasingly, but his eyes softened with concern. He brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, his calloused thumb tracing the gentle slope of your jaw. “Nothing… I guess it’s just setting in- that I’m really doing this.” You murmured softly.
“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna,” he murmured in response, his big palm cupping your cheek. He was so gentle, nurturing in a way you weren’t used to. It stirred up such conflicting feelings- it made you want to cry, but at the same time you felt that familiar pull between your legs that told you of your desires, that you truly wanted this, wanted him.
“I want to,” you urged, your small hands curling into the fabric of his flannel, “I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never…” you trail off, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. His eyes widened a fraction, perplexed by your confession. “Oh,” he said, and nothing else. You got worried after a few moments of silence passed. “Is that bad?” You asked, scared he’d back off, take you straight home and leave you unsatisfied.
“Naw, it ain’t bad- just… surprised me.” He said as he rubbed a hand over his face. “You sure you wanna do this with me? M’twice your age, darlin’- n’ I… I’ve been around.” You smile, amused by his insecurity. If only he knew he was exactly what you’d been looking for. “Good. Means you’ll know how to make me feel good.” He groaned at that, his hands coming to grasp at your waist. “You don’t know what you’re sayin’ sweetheart- you don’t want an old dog like me ta ruin ya.” But as he spoke, his hands were sliding down to squeeze your hips.
“Oh, but I do,” you hummed as your hands began to unbutton his flannel, wanting to see the weathered skin beneath. He let you, groaning as you slid it off his shoulders and down his arms before going back to greedily run your hands over his hairy, scarred chest. You thought he was the sexiest thing alive, practically drooling at the sight of his exposed flesh. He chuckled, low and gravelly, before kissing you breathless. He licked into your mouth, his hand firmly grasping your jaw and holding you in place. His other hand slid further down your hip to your thigh, squeezing the plush flesh. You mewled softly, the sound needy and impatient as you desperately wanted his touch to move just a few inches inward, to where you needed him most. He teased you, this thumb rubbing gentle circles on your thigh as he pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down to your neck.
“Joel,” you whimpered. He only growled in response, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath your earlobe. The hand that was gripping your jaw slid down to push down the strap of your dress, revealing the lacey bra you were wearing in anticipation of this very moment. Your tummy fluttered with excitement as you helped him push your dress down to your waist, his hand reaching behind your back to skillfully unclasp your bra. You were slightly irritated that it only got a mere second of appreciation before being tossed across the room, but it was quickly forgotten because the rough pads of his hands were on you, fondling your breasts and flicking your nipples in a way that made you gasp. You never understood the appeal of nipple play, given you hadn't experienced it with a partner- and doing it to yourself was unexciting, to say the least. But this was different.
You squirmed, arching your back, a soft gasp escaping your lips. “Like that, doll?” He chuckled as he looked at you with a satisfied smirk and those seductive lidded eyes, keeping eye contact as he brought his mouth to your left nipple, giving it a quick kiss before sucking it into his mouth. Your hands flew up to grasp at his hair, fingers tangling in his locks. He groaned when you curled your fingers and tugged. His other hand finally relented and slid right where you needed him, his thumb pressing right into your clit through the thin fabric of your panties.
“Mm, so wet f’me baby,” he purred as he rubbed circles into you, making you mewl. Your head was spinning with liquor and molten want, your pussy throbbing against his hand. He noticed, moving his attention from your breast down your belly, pressing little kisses until his lips hit the fabric of your dress bunched around your hips. “Lift f’me,” he spoke gently as he grasped at the fabric, pulling your dress down and off your legs. His fingers bit into the meat of your thighs as he spread you open, dipping his head between them. He licked a broad stripe up your pussy, further dampening the fabric of your panties. He moaned at your scent, the way your puffy lips looked in the lacy fabric. Hooking a finger in the crotch of your panties, he pulled them aside to expose your sex. He dove in, his tongue lapping at your folds with a hunger that left you gasping, your thighs clamping around his head.
“Thas’ it, babydoll, squeeze those thighs ‘round me.” He groaned against your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth. You gasped, a soft moan tumbling from your lips as you moved on pure instinct, your hips bucking into his mouth. His hands kept a death-like grip on your thighs, sliding to your ass to push you impossibly closer to his probing tongue. “Joel-” You whined, frantic with your oncoming orgasm.
“C’mon, you can do it- cum on my tongue, darlin’.” He urged, his voice desperate and ragged, like he needed it. That was all it took for you to snap, a sharp cry escaping you as your whole body seized up, thighs trembling as you came right where he wanted. He lapped up your arousal like a man dying of thirst, making your cheeks flush once you snapped out of your post-orgasm haze and realized what he was doing. “Stop, it’s dirty-!” You exclaimed.
“You taste divine,” Joel said as he looked up at you, a lopsided smirk on his face. The sight of him, smiling up at you from between your legs, his beard wet with your arousal, was nearly enough to make you cum again. It seemed like he noticed, because he went right back to laving attention on your clit, slipping a finger into your tight hole. “Gimme another, baby, c’mon- gotta stretch this lil’ pussy out real good ‘fore I fuck you.” He groaned. Your pussy fluttered around his finger, greedily sucking him deep inside. “Yeah, thas’ it- she’s so hungry, ain’t she?” He pressed another finger inside, barely circling around your entrance before slowly pushing in. He was slow and gentle, wanting to ease you into it- to not overwhelm you. So far, you seemed pretty damn enthusiastic- you were sucking his fingers in so greedily, arching your back and moaning so beautifully, he could hardly stand it. It took everything in him not to stuff his cock inside you, to feel how tight you’d be around him.
You choked out a moan as you helplessly came again, your breasts heaving with each labored breath, your legs twitching with the aftershocks. You didn’t expect him to start up again, curling his fingers to hit something inside you that made stars burst across your vision, slowly teasing a third digit in. “One more,” he begged, his voice a hoarse, desperate rasp, “can ya give me one more, baby?” You were shaking, your eyes stinging with tears as you drowned in the pleasure- it was too much. You must have said as much, because his hand came to soothingly massage your hip.
“Just one more, baby,” he pleaded, “just need one more.”
You couldn’t resist him, how utterly wrecked he sounded, how he seemed to need your release as much as you did. Your hands tugged roughly at his hair as a third orgasm rolled through you, your eyes rolling back as you cried out his name. You heard him growl, his teeth grazing at your clit, making you jolt helplessly. He licked you through your climax, groaning with pleasure and rutting his hips against the mattress. “So fuckin’ good for me,” he breathed, giving your pussy one last lick before he sat back on his heels.
“Can’t wait no more,” he panted as he frantically grasped at his belt. He fumbled with the buckle, cursing under his breath before he finally yanked it off, unzipping the fly of his jeans and reaching into his briefs to pull out his hard cock. You’d never seen a dick before- not this close, at least- inches from your face, pulsing and weeping with primal need. You’d seen sex scenes in movies, watched porn late in the night under the covers, but this was surreal. He was big, and he was girthy, and god was he hairy. You drank in the sight of the perfect trail of hair that led down to the nest surrounding the base of him, and you felt the very perverted urge to lean in and press your nose against it, taking a deep inhale of his musk.
“Like what ya see?” He teased, but something in his eyes flickered with uncertainty, like he was maybe worried you were overwhelmed, that this was too much for you. You hadn’t even heard him, staring like an idiot at his perfectly molded dick, watching the way it twitched with arousal. It was a very serious worry for you that you’d find your partner’s cock unattractive the first time you’d had sex- they just didn’t look very appealing dangling around from what you’d seen, but Joel’s was… beautiful. You nearly giggled at the thought, but you genuinely thought his dick was beautiful.
“What?” He asked, his expression giving away his worry now. He saw your mouth twitch, suppressing a smile, and he hadn’t the faintest clue whether that was a good sign or a bad one. You let yourself smile, a shy but genuine one, your cheeks flushing. “I like it,” you admitted rather stupidly, but at least it was the truth. He paused for a moment, his hazel eyes staring at your face- searching, before he barked out a laugh. “You like it?” You laughed with him, nodding your head.
“Mhm, I like it a lot.” You said, letting your desire seep into your voice. You weren’t sure if you sounded seductive, but you hoped you did. Either way, he seemed riled up by it, cursing softly to himself as he stroked himself. “Want you ta tell me if it hurts, okay baby?” He said as he positioned himself between your legs once again, his cock resting over your mound. He rubbed against you a few times, sighing in relief, before he was pulling aside the crotch of your panties once more. “You understand?” He asked, firmer this time. You nodded eagerly, watching with wide eyes as he swiped his tip through your folds, gently prodding at your entrance.
“Don’t feel like ya gotta put up with anythin’ f’me- you feel uncomfortable, we stop. Tell me you understand, babydoll.”
“I understand, Joel.” You whispered as you gently bit down on your lip. He eased himself inside you, gently spreading your thighs wider as he began to push in. A brief panic flooded through you, and he felt it- the way your body tensed, the way your chest began heaving again, but this time not with pleasure. “Breath f’me, sweetheart,” he cooed as he massaged your thigh, “relax as best you can.” You nodded, the sweetness in his voice easing your nerves a bit. He brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing slow circles that made you flutter around him as he pushed deeper.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. His reaction spurred you on, your slick walls beginning to suck him inside. He was definitely a stretch, the pressure a little uncomfortable but not painful- you were thankful he took his time to pleasure you first, get you prepared for him. “Thas’ it, baby- suck me in just like that.” He murmured, the hand that was massaging your thigh now gripping tight, like he was trying to hold himself back. He wanted to move so badly, his hips twitched, the urge to buck into you nearly overwhelming. He stayed strong, moving slowly and gently until you were ready.
Once he’d pushed all the way in, his cock nestled deep inside you, he stopped. His eyes flicked up to your face, taking in your expression- and god, were you a sight. Your hair was spread out on his pillow, a few strands sticking to your face, your eyes wide, lips parted, tits moving slightly with each breath you took, your belly soft, legs spread, and your gorgeous cunt wet and puffy and stuffed full of his cock. He felt like he could cum just looking at you.
“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He muttered, unable to resist the slight nudge of his hips. You mewled at the feeling, the tip of him hitting a spot deep inside you that had you clenching down around him. “Liked that, didn’t she?” He grinned, his voice gravelly and rough as he eased his hips back, giving another shallow little thrust. He relished in your gasp, the way you pulsed around him. He was in trouble, knew it the moment he laid eyes on you in that bar, knew it as soon as he got you in his bed, and he knew it now as he gently thrust into your sopping cunt- he was going to get addicted to this, to you.
His thumb pressed into your clit, the other holding your hip as he thrust again and again, short and shallow thrusts that eased you into the pleasure and sent heat licking up his spine. You were moaning now, soft little sounds that he couldn’t get enough of. “Sing f’me- lemme hear those lil’ sounds of yours.” He grunted as he quickened his pace, thrusting a little deeper. He surmised by the way your toes curled and your back arched that you liked it. “Like that, huh? S’little pussy’s eatin’ me up so well- greedy little thing she is,”
You moaned, more wanton this time. Joel didn’t seem like the talking type, but the way he was talking to you now, half-drunk on whiskey and the feeling of your pussy around him- it only made the pleasure more intense, knowing that it was you who was bringing this handsome man to this point. “So full,” you mewled softly, “I feel so full.” You didn’t know how to talk dirty, but in the haze of pleasure, you thought you could certainly try. He pushed his hips forward, burying himself deep inside you, leaning forward a bit to put his weight on you. “Yeah? You like being full of my cock?”
“Yes,” you moaned, your voice high and breathy, “I love it. Love your cock, Joel.” That seemed enough to get him going, his head dropping down so his hair hung in front of his face. “Shit, yeah baby- you love it? Love this cock? I’ll give you all you want, darlin’ don’t you worry.” His hands moved to plant themselves on either side of your head, his big arms caging you in as he started rolling his hips, thrusting slow and deep inside you. The both of you moaned at the same time, your head falling back against the pillow as he hit that sweet spot inside you again.
“Goddamn,” he hissed, picking his pace up again. Your hands flew to his shoulders, your nails digging in slightly. Your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts, which he seemed to like, as his mouth came down to suck at your right nipple. You gasped, moaning softly in response to the way he growled against your flesh, like a hungry animal. It was primal, desperate, and fucking hot.
“Joel,” you whined, a soft cry escaping you as he gently sank his teeth into the flesh around your nipple. He was thrusting faster now, desperately chasing his release. You clung to him, your nails clawing into his back as you rolled your hips up to meet his thrusts. His teeth moved to your neck, nipping at your skin before moving up to your jaw. “Fuck, baby, you feel so damn good-” he groaned, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. He was on his elbows now, furiously moving his hips. “Look at me,” he pleaded, lifting his head just enough to look down at your face, into your eyes- he looked so raw, so vulnerable, and so beautiful you could hardly stand it. Your hands pressed into his back, pulling him closer. All you could do was helplessly mewl his name, so desperate for him it nearly brought tears to your eyes. He noticed your eyes watering and wiped away the moisture with his thumb. “I got you baby,” he murmured as you cried out his name, your orgasm close, “I got you. Cum with me, c’mon sweetheart-”
You saw white as your orgasm tore through you, powerful and absolutely devastating. You screamed his name, your nails sinking deep into his flesh as you shook, your walls spasming around him. He cursed loudly, shouting your name before he buried his face in your neck, his own body trembling as he tensed up and buried himself as deep as he could, spurting rope after rope of cum inside you.
You held on to each other for a long time, panting and shivering through the aftershocks. He pressed gentle kisses on your neck and jaw, murmuring soft praises in your ear. “Did so good f’me baby- took me so well. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen- I mean it.” He doubled down after you protested, squeezing your hips possessively. Once the post-orgasm haze began to fade, you noticed the warmth of his spend inside you.
“Mm, so warm,” you hummed, too blissed-out for the implications to dawn on you. “What’s warm, darlin’?” He asked with a chuckle as he kissed your cheek. “Your cum inside me,” you giggled, pulling back to give him a mischievous and very dreamy smile. His eyes widened, his own dreamy expression wiped clean off his face as your words sobered him. “Shit,” he gasped as he pulled out of you, looking at how he dripped out of you. He quickly pushed aside the very strong masculine satisfaction he felt and got up to grab a rag from the adjoined bathroom, kneeling back on the mattress to gently clean you up. He held your leg open as he worked, his eyes laser-focused.
“We’ll go to the pharmacy first thing in the mornin’,” he said once he was done, discarding the rag and kicking off his jeans to join you in bed. He held you close, his arms wrapped around you as pulled you against him. “For now, get some rest.” You let out a sleepy little hum, snuggling into his chest. It wasn’t hard at all to fall asleep, to your pleasant surprise, and you slept a very blissful, dreamless sleep until morning, your heart full and satisfied- and you knew you’d become addicted to him, but you were more than okay with that.
──── ୨ৎ ──────── ୨ৎ ──────── ୨ৎ ──────── ୨ৎ ────
A/N: As feral as I am, I cannot write smut without giggling - It's just really funny trying to find hot ways to describe a pp LOL. Also ignore how sucky the title is I literally couldn't think of anything T-T.
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: MDNI! 18+, language, smut, p in v, fingering, cnc? (does it without full coherent consent?) rafe kinda takes advantage of reader, slight exhibition risk, mention of head (m receiving) mean!rafe towards the end, lots of dirty talk, slight daddy kink, slapping, slight mention of neglect, divorce, bourbon + weed
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: innocent!reader visits the cameron’s, as she does weekly, with her parents. but this time as she confides in the eldest cameron child and her best friend, rafe over her parents failing marriage, he attempts to comfort you…
𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: quick little mssg before you read this is my first ever fic i’ve wrote so im so so sorry if it’s absolutely awful! also please request other stuff for me to write! enjoy angels! 💐🪽🧸
you and rafe were inseparable.
still are.
since the early age of four in he’s been following you around like a lost puppy. constantly trying to get your attention, the poor boy. you often saw his constant need and struggle for someone to just care for him as an affect of his asshole of a father mainly bringing him up.
your parents just somehow managed to strengthen your bond with him by becoming closer to one another themselves. during your childhood and with rafe, your parents obviously drifted closer by spending practically every weekend together. of course they would, naturally. both your mother and his step mother, rose, are wealthy, snobby women of the upper side in the outer banks. and your fathers? please. they could be brothers.
ward cameron, business fiend and dickhead supreme, clearly is best suited to become bourbon drinking buddies with your father. every tuesday, thursday and saturday without a doubt your father is “invited” over to the cameron household. therefore meaning you and your mother have to come too.
now after years of these years and many similar nights, you don’t mind. i mean, you are visiting your little rafe…
knock knock knock
“darling i’m sure ward will love your bourbon you brought don’t worry dear” standing on the cameron manor porch, your mother attempts to reassure and calm your father by pressing a haste kiss to his stubbly cheek. smoothing down his suit, she shuffles backwards as he scoffs and glares at her.
“why wouldn’t he maria?! it’s bourbon from fucking germany, the best bourbon making country in the goddamn world.” father sighs, agitated once again. muttering something about her being a stupid woman. you stand there, behind them both. watching mother, her long, recently blown out hair floating in the wind, revealing the open back of her pastel blue sundress. and watching father too. his broad shoulders filling most of the imposing cameron manor front door’s frame. his grey suit reflecting him beautifully. bland and fucking boring. your hands start twisting with your silver bracelets and small golden rings as you try to become invisible. as you try to keep out of your parents fraying marriage and their ongoing petty arguments once again.
the door swings open.
rose cameron stands there, rafes step mother. her short blonde hair is recently bleached and shoved behind her ears. flaunting her iridescent mauve jumpsuit and boisterous, awfully chunky gold necklace. she paints a firm smile onto her matching mauve lips and pushes her hair even further behind her ears. the glow of the metal of the bangles on her wrist catch the setting evening sun and flash into your eyes, blinding you for a second.
“maria! damien! welcome!” she reaches forward and pecks your mother’s cheeks swiftly, peering over her shoulder at you in slight disgust. “i see you all made it fine! me and ward were awfully worried about the god awful weather in paris stopping you from flying home from france… he would be horrified if he missed his bourbon drinking date” rose smiles, her cheeks plastered with foundation, rising like cakes being baked. “oh silly me- come in come in! we have so much to talk about maria.. i mean we have to plan midsummers and the food and outfits- oh and damien, you know where ward is” she lets out a sharp chuckle and beams brightly. rose doesn’t even bother you a second glance as she ushers your parents inside, leaving you standing on the porch. the soft breeze playing with your hair.
what a bitch.. you sigh, your shoulders drooping. rafe must be upstairs like always.
you slide into the manor. quiet, invisible one again. pressing the grand double doors shut and starting to trail up the winding staircase.
after a moment climbing up the spiralling stairs and scurrying across the landing, you stop outside rafe’s door.
knock knock knock
“rafey? it’s me?” you murmur to the door, praying he’s inside.
a moment.
the door pulls open.
inside? stands rafe, low slung grey sweatpants, gold chain around his neck, red bull can in hand.
his room? you peek inside, well you try to. it’s mostly dark. all his blinds are shut, and the only light, apart from the glow of his flatscreen tv opposite his bed is crawling underneath his curtains. the hum of some faint song by someone like chase atlantic or the weeknd dances around the room and the faint smell of weed and aftershave wraps around you, embracing you into a warm, familiar hug.
“doll- i- hey” he smirks, before snatching your wrist and pulling you into his den.
he plops onto the crimson velvet couch at the end of his king size bed before drawing a blunt out of his pocket and dropping his empty red bull can onto the floor with a clatter.
holding the not lit blunt in his teeth, he grabs one of the stray hoodies laying on his floor before pulling it over his head. he flickers his lighter, pulled from his pocket and lights the blunt. takes an inhale and blows out a small cloud of smoke. “cmon bun” grinning ear to ear, he pats his thigh “sit, you know i don’t bite”
you giggle, a sweet melodic tune that dances throughout rafe’s brain.
fuckk…. he thinks..
he drags a rough hand over his face, making some attempt to clean his impure brain of the image of you on your knees in between his thighs with his thick cock wrapped around your pretty pink lips.
you toe off your polished black mary jane’s, leaving them by his bedroom door before pushing it shut quietly. you scuttle over, slipping and sliding all over his recently waxed hardwood floor with your pale pink frilly socks covering your small feet.
he smirks again.. this sweet, sweet girl.
“hi rafey” you murmur whilst you plop onto his lap with a faint thud.
“miss’d you bunny” he immediately lets his hands wander over your waist and he pulls you up so you’re laying back onto his chest as he grabs his playstation controller before starting to play his game. some fighting game no doubt.
“me too rafey..” you coo “im sorry i went away for so long.. france was boring, mom just wanted to drink and dad just wanted to scream at her..im here now though” you say before offering him a weak smile.
“oh bun.. they still rocky?” he hums, pressing you into his side more.
“mhm..i- uh- heard them yelling over some papers the other night too when i was trying to sleep.. its all going wrong rafey i’ve wanted to speak to you for ages but-” you mumble, turning your head so you can bury your lightly dolled up face into his bare bicep.
“oh pretty..” he sighs, stroking your hair like a puppy’s soft fur coat “it’ll be for the best if they divorce hm? yeah?”
“yeah.. you’re right.. i mean at least i might be able to at least sleep then? right?” trying to laugh at your own joke, you press your face further into his arm, turning slightly more so you can lay on his chest better.
“mh yeah good girl.. you can move in with me too if you want when i get my own place later this year hm? jus’ us two in a big house while i finish college yeah?”
“yeah.. uh- i’d like that… yeah..” you whimper. a tear. two tears. three. four. a stream. a river.
“shi- no no bunny don’t cry.. shh… sh..”
sobbing, you grasp his neck and cry softly into his shoulder.
blubbering uselessly, you try to form some coherent thought “b-but- m…m-my d-dad-d-daddy! n-no l…li-like me”
“don’t stress bun.. yeah? fuck your dad. that’s what i say.” he cradles your head, his golden rings that adorn each finger glint in the glow of his tv and his fingers rake through your hair, the playstation controller forgotten. “i can be your daddy for all you care bun.. let rafey care for you.. let me help you.. please pretty girl” he whines pathetically.
you nod mindlessly whilst continuing to whimper and sniffle into his chest.
you don’t even notice he’s manage to hike your baby pink floral print sundress dress up to your waist until his thick golden brown fingers dance along your inner thigh, trickling into your panties quietly.
“shh.. rafe’s got you bun.. focus on me hm?” you can almost hear the smugness melting off his tongue and into his speech, bastard.
you look down at your thighs, expecting to just see his hand squeezing and kneading the flesh. oh-! shit. when did he take my underwear off-.
a pinch, a stoke of your little nub. “r-rafe!”
“you like tha’ hm? shh.. shh.. dry those eyes babygirl.. no crying for rafe”
a finger.. or is it three? press inside of you suddenly.
“mh!” you whine like a needy puppy, for a different reason this time. not crying over your stupid parents, but your best friend.
“sh.” he hisses “keep quiet now, wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to find out their precious girl is being finger fucked by her best friend now would we?”
you shake your head, frantic. “n-no…”
“good girl.. open wide for rafe now” he taps your sealed lips with his cum slicked index and middle finger before forcing your soaked through pink lace panties into your waiting mouth. his fingers slide back down to your puffy folds and little hole, that’s currently clenching on air. trailing his middle finger down from your clit, he thrusts it in. the contrast of the cool metal of the ring on his finger and the warmness of your walls making you sharply inhale.
squelch squelch squelch
the wet, grotesque squelching sounds of his sound fingers thrusting into you and spreading your wetness around your folds fill the air.
another finger presses into your hole. roughly curling around the point, that fills your vision with stars and black, he found so well. so quickly.
eyes rolling back, you buck your hips, frantic. humping his hand, you groan. silently begging and pleading for permission to come.
“nuh uh, too soon bun.. i’ve not even got my cock out yet and you want to squirt all over my fingers?” he scoffs “pathetic slut” he spits at you, and a firm slap is delivered meanly to your pulsing folds making you jump.
suddenly, you’re not on his lap. you’re bent over the arm of the crimson couch, the plush velvet digging into your knees as rafe rams his mean cock into your folds from behind.
“uh-mh-mm!” you whine and squirm, pleading for more friction.
“if i knew you were this much of a slut my dick wouldn’t have left this tight cunt in years…” he pants, breathing heavily. “take it- mh.. some best friend you are” he chuckles as he bullies his cock into you, the angry red tip prodding your cervix, inching you closer to your orgasm every thrust. his balls burying into the curve of your plump ass. “oh bun- she’s just swallowing me whole.. greedy hole gripping my cock so well, taking rafey so well hm?”
despite his roughness, rafe continues to stroke your hair somehow comfortingly, tugging every few moments as the odd ring on his finger gets stuck in your locks.
“see bun? it’s okay, you’ve got me, fuck your parents yeah? jus’ need- m..me… rafe” he groans as he gets closer to his climax.
“god i’ve been waiting to do this for years..” he murmurs as he leans down to nibble your shoulder as he continues to ram into you unrelentingly, the wet sounds now more violent and vicious.
You don’t do parties. You don’t drink. And you definitely don’t get involved with guys like Choso Kamo. But one night changes everything. What starts as a stupid party turns into something harder to ignore—lingering looks, unfinished moments, and a tension that follows you far beyond that night, making your realize something: Choso Kamo isn’t just dangerous at parties. He’s worse when he’s sober.
✧˖° cw: college au :: mentions of drugs and drinking :: choso is freaked out :: suggestive content :: smut :: parties :: use of weed :: good girl/bad boy trope :: slight angst
✧˖° episode 01
✧˖° episode 02
✧˖° episode 03
✧˖° episode 04
✧˖° episode 05
✧˖° episode 06
✧˖° episode 07
✧˖° episode 08
✧˖° episode 09
✧˖° episode 10
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ—comment to be added to taglist ໒‧₊˚
yeah it’s foolish that you have developed intense feelings for your bestfriend, not knowing if she’ll ever love you back.
cw: bestfriend!sevika . g!p sevika . kind n sweet sev cause we deserve that . suggestive . bstfriends to lovers . kissing!! . lap sitting . hard on .
you’re on her lap again. it’s innocent, it always is — because you always end up here. movie nights, late night talks, the two of you hanging out in her room like you’ve done since high school. sevika’s huge hand always ends up on your hip, her body always warm and solid beneath you, and you never question it because she never makes it weird.
except tonight…something feels different.
something hard keeps nudging up against you whenever you shift.
you freeze for a second, confused, because what the hell does she keep in her jeans that’s that…firm?? but you’re too shy to ask, so you just pretend you don’t feel it — even though your cheeks are burning and your heart is slamming behind your ribs.
sevika notices. of course she does. she notices everything when it comes to you.
“you’re awfully fidgety today,” she murmurs against your hair, voice low, gentle, fond. one of her fingers grazes your waist, making you shiver. “something wrong, sweetheart?”
sweetheart. she always says shit like that and acts like it’s nothing.
you shake your head quickly. “n-no um, i’m fine.” you are not fine. you are having a crisis on her lap.
and sevika smiles, that soft one she only gives you, and tilts your chin up so you’re looking at her. you swear the world stops for a second. her eyes are warm, focused only on you, the way you’ve dreamed about since you were like…16.
“you sure?” she asks, thumb brushing your cheek. “you’re red.”
“i’m just warm!” total lie, you’re melting.
her hand cups your cheeks, “you’re cute when you lie.”
then she leans in slowly, giving you time to pull back. you don’t. you lean right back into her like you’ve wanted to for years. her lips meet yours — soft at first, testing and questioning.
you whimper the tiniest bit and that’s all it takes. her other arm wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you in so your chest presses against hers. the kiss deepens instantly but still gentle, still careful, but hungry in a way that shakes through you. sevika kisses like she’s been waiting for this.
you cling to her shirt, kissing her back, dizzy with how right it feels.
when she finally pulls away, she kisses your forehead, your cheek, the corner of your mouth — slow, affectionately and tender. “i’ve wanted that for a long time.”
your eyes widen. “…you did?”
she huffs a soft laugh. “sweetheart, you really didn’t know?” she brushes her thumb over your lip. “you sitting on my lap every damn day almost killed me.”
your face goes scarlet. “w-wait, then that hard thing—”
she stiffens just a bit then she groans quietly and hides her face in your neck. “please don’t make me say it out loud.”
you blink.. pause to think and then gasp. “OH.”
her grip tightens. “yeah. ‘oh.’”
you can feel her embarrassed smile against your skin. and somehow, that makes you braver. so you cup her cheeks and guide her face back up to yours. “so…can i kiss you again?”
her pupils blow wide,“you never have to ask.”
she kisses you like she means it this time — deep, slow, messy, her hand sliding up your spine, her other gripping your thigh. your fingers tangle in her hair. your lips part for her without even thinking. she kisses you until you’re breathless, warm all over, practically melting into her.
when you finally pull apart again, panting, sevika presses her forehead to yours.
“be my girl,” she whispers, voice rough in that way that makes your stomach twist tight. “i’ll take care of you. i promise.”
When your ac breaks down during a heatwave, you have no choice but to call your neighbor for help
It had been a week since you gave your neighbor the homemade cookies, and for a week you haven’t been able to get him out of your head. Not the moles that littered his skin, not his sparkling brown eyes that held mischief underneath, and definitely not the way he had sucked his thumb after wiping your lip.
Since then, the summer heat has hit like a tidal wave, stretching the days into something endless and making stepping outside feel impossible. Your entire wardrobe has become unusable, limiting you to breathable skirts and tank tops that stuck to your sweat slicked skin.
To make things worse, in the middle of the hot day the air conditioner decided to randomly shut down and stopped working. When you attempted to open all the windows, it only circulated the heated air back through the room, offering no refuge or comfort. You tried calling repair technicians, but their prices were unreasonably high—practically a rip off, and none of them could come on short notice, which meant there was only one choice left.
You bit your lower lip while staring at the telephone, contemplating if this was a good idea or not, though the idea of having to suffer one more second and possibly putting yourself at risk for a heat stroke had you picking up the phone, dialing Steve’s number.
On the second ring he picked up. “Hello?” He said, the caller unknown to him.
You breathed shakily, “h-hey Steve, it’s me—the girl next door. The one that brought you cookies the other day, if you remember…” you instantly wanted to slap yourself, who else could it be.
“Oh!” Steve responded, familiarity seeping into his voice. “How could I forget? I was meaning to tell you they were amazing, thank you sweetheart.”
You felt your face go hot, and it wasn’t from the heat. “You’re welcome.” You rushed out. “I don’t want to bother you, but I’m kind of in a situation.” You started.
“What’s going on?” You could instantly hear the concern in his tone, imagining the cute furrow of his brows.
“It’s just—my air conditioner broke, and I kind of need some help.” You weighed your words, fearing his reaction.
“Awh, you poor thing.” Steve spoke low. “You must feel so hot,” the word came out sharply, sending a spark through you. “I really don’t mind coming over and taking a look at it.”
You lit up, a smile overtaking your features at his kindness. “Really?” You exclaimed.
“Of course.” He laughed lightly. “I’ll come right now—so we can get it fixed up as soon as possible.”
You quickly agreed, and in only five minutes Steve was already at your door, knocking loudly. You raced to it, a hand kept behind your back as you swung it open with a smile on your face. He was dressed similarly for the weather, a wife beater that hugged his shoulders and showed the beginnings of his chest hair peaking out.
“Thank you for coming over, really!” You said profusely, as Steve gave you a once over, visibly swallowing at how little there was to imagine from all the skin showing.
“Not a problem, sweetheart.” He said with a grin, letting himself in. You led him towards the ac unit in the back, and Steve placed his hands on his hips, observing it carefully.
You stood behind him as he took the lid off, searching for the root of the problem. You tried not to let your eyes linger on the way his back muscles flexed with each movement, accentuating his fit figure.
“Looks like I found the issue.” He called out, snapping you out of your daydreaming. Your head perked up, coming a little closer.
“The air filter is clogged—meaning all the dust and whatnot got trapped inside.” Steve explained, turning back towards you. “I can clean it out with a vacuum, it’s good you called me and not some know it all who would’ve charged you double.” He smiled.
“So I’m in good hands?” You rechecked, staring up at him through your lashes.
“Always, sweetheart.” He winked playfully. You nodded gratefully, and retreated to bring all the tools he needed. Steve couldn’t help but watch how you swung your hips as you walked, having no idea about the things you do to him.
He started working while you watched him closely, though secretly he was taking his sweet time—being around you was intoxicating, and Steve was addicted. After a couple of minutes, you silently gasped as you realized he was probably suffering just as much as you were—and you disappeared without a warning to make him a small treat.
You stood in the kitchen, squeezing fresh lemons and pouring handfuls of ice into a glass pitcher, the sharp citrus scent filling the air. A final pinch of sugar dissolved into the pale yellow liquid, condensation already gathering along the cool glass—a stark contrast to the hot atmosphere. Just looking at it caused your mouth to water, it was bound to count as a token of appreciation for Steve.
You filled up another glass to the brim as you brought it up, noticing how sweat gathered at Steve’s hairline and the pink glow that took over his face.
He craned his neck back, mouth parting when he finally saw you again. “Oh you angel—” he groaned dramatically. “That’s exactly what I need!”
You giggled softly while extending him the cup, his rough fingers touching yours momentarily as he took it. Wasting no time, Steve tilted his head back and downed the cool drink, Adam’s apple bobbing as he consumed it greedily.
“I think you should just make me everything at this point.” He panted, wiping his sticky mouth with the back of his hand.
“Well you’re the one doing the hard work.” You said pointedly, and he shrugged.
“Nothing I wouldn’t already do for you.” Steve said, and you tried not to let your mind wander at what he meant.
Unfortunately, Steve finished sooner than you wanted expected, and you were trying to think of more ways to prolong his exit.
“Well, sweet girl—if that’s all, I’ll leave you be.” He sighed, wiping his hands on a washcloth.
You nodded, “I don’t know how thank you enough for this Steve. You’re a life saver,” you said honestly while leading him back to your door.
A subtle smirk worked its way onto his face, trailing his eyes all over you. “I can think of a way you can thank me, angel.” He dragged out dangerously, though you were unaware of his true intentions.
“What’s that?” You eagerly spoke up, eyes wide and awaiting—Steve couldn’t resist himself at how submissive you looked, ready to do anything to please him.
Slowly, he took a step closer, until you were inches apart. He laid a hand over your waist—you froze at the action, and he closed off the remaining distance with a gentle kiss against your pink lips.
It made you breathless in the best possible way, you practically melted into it, kissing back before you could come to the realization it was your neighbor’s lips who was on yours. Steve depended the kiss into something unforgettable, pulling you flush against his chest as your face tilted up even higher, his tongue slipping into your mouth and coaxing out a moan.
It ended all too soon, Steve pulling away before you could roam your hands all over him, wanting to feel more.
“Like that.” He stated without context, not pulling his eyes off of you until the door had shut behind him.
