Bud Cooper x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 30: Cunnilingus
Summary: Bud forgot a file at work, you take a trip to bring it to him.
A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). This is so badly not beta read, I cannot stress. I am cutting this one so fine timewise.
Warnings: reader works with Bud, kissing, oral, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!
Word Count: 1713
You race down the pavement, rain soaking into your skin. You’re practically a drowned rat at this point, sodden and cold.
You have the case file wrapped tightly to your chest, under your coat and thankfully in a metal carry case - safe from the rain.
Bud had forgotten it when he’d left, you knew he’d need it for Monday morning and probably wouldn’t even notice he hadn’t picked it up over the weekend. Not that the offices would be open even if he did.
So, with your boss’s permission, you’d looked up Bud’s home address and made your way. It hadn’t been raining when you got on the bus, but when you got off the storm clouds had been looming.
Finally, you reach his house. His car is parked in the drive, which is a small mercy. At least you know he’s in.
You duck under the shelter of his porch and ring the bell.
He's surprised when he opens the door to you, but he smiles. And it's utterly disarming.
“Hi, erm, I, so, you left…” All the practised sentences you'd gone over in your mind on the way here fall out of your head the instant you need them. “Here.” You hold out the metal case file and quickly realise he has no idea what's inside. “I…”
“Come in, come in, my god, you're soaked.” He ushers you inside, giving you a sympathetic look.
“I don't want to be any trouble-”
“No trouble at all.” He closes the door and turns to you. It's upsetting how good he looks out of his work clothes, part of you hoped that his allure was just from the pressed suit and ties he wore. But it seemed you were down bad.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, and to your obvious distress?” He smiles as he talks and you get lost in the expression for a moment.
“Distress?”
“You racing through a storm?”
“Oh… you forgot, erm, the Brandle File.” you hold up the box again, your hands shaking slightly from the cold. Rain water drips from your clothing onto his clean carpet and you wince. “I asked Mr Johnson, he gave me permission to drop it by, I know it's not professional, I don't mean to barge into your home and-”
“Hey, hey,” He looks at you warmly as he takes the box from you and puts it on the floor. His fingers brush yours and he hisses, “You're freezing!”
“I'm sorry.”
He tuts. “Don't be sorry, you'll catch your death.” He gives you an apologetic look, “all this because I haven't got my head screwed on right.”
“N-”
“I'm not taking any excuses from you for my behaviour.” He grins. “Now I'm being a terrible host.”
He ushers you upstairs and to the bathroom, handing you a laundry basket towel and dressing down. “Take a hot shower and bring your clothes down in the basket, I'll get them washed and dried for you.”
“Mr Cooper-”
“Bud.”
“Bud, I-”
“I'm not taking no for an answer sweet pea.” He smiles and leaves the room.
You sigh and stare at the full basket in your hands. It's not really like you have much of a choice.
“Use my soap if you want to!” He calls out halfway down the stairs.
The shower is wonderful, warm and soothing, and when you're done you ring out your work clothes as best you can before you put them in the basket.
The towel dressing gown is massive, it could easily fit 4 Bud's inside standing side to side, and still have room for more. It's soft and warm, and there are a pair of warm socks rolled up inside it. You put those on as well.
You hang your towel up on the side, and panically try to make sure you've put everything back in the exact place it was before you head downstairs.
It's only when your foot is on the first step that your anxiety bubbles up, nearly paralysing you. You're naked under the dressing gown. In his house. You double check the tie around your waist, making sure everything is secure.
He’s in the kitchen, bent down checking something in the oven so you have a first seat view of his ass.
God was teasing you.
“Erm, I,”
Bud spins around, still all smiles, he’s got an apron on over his house clothes that has ‘kiss the cook’ printed on it in fancy lettering. “I’ll take those, get them washed and dried for you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to.” You hate how timidly your voice comes out.
He waves a dismissive hand at you before he takes the basket. “It’s the least I can do, would you like to stay for dinner? There’s more than enough, I’ll drive you home after.” He pauses, “Not that I’m insisting on you staying, you’re more than welcome to keep the dressing gown and I’ll take you home right now.”
“No, I,” you smile a little bashfully. “Are you sure I’m not imposing?”
He shakes his head happily and busies himself by sitting you down in the living room with a hot drink before he goes to the laundry room. You have to practically beg him to make Bud stop from hunting down the spare portable heater for you.
You have a sneaky look around the room while he’s gone, just out of interest. There are a few photos, friends and family, a couple of small knick knacks.
You smile at him when he comes back in the room, “You have a lovely house.”
“Ah,” he shakes his head, “It’s not very homely. Needs some care.” He taps the door frame affectionately.
“Well, I think it’s lovely.”
He puffs his chest out a little. “Thank you.” He takes a few steps closer to you, “Oh that’s Frank, he’s an old friend.” He points to the photo you were looking at. “Fishing trip last year.”
“You like fishing?”
“Hate it,” he chuckles, “Frank loves it, I think you can see by my face there, I’m not a fan.”
You giggle.
“I mean, I like the beer, and the talking and the peace and quiet, but it was fucking freezing there even though it was the middle of May. I nearly lost toes to frostbite.” He pauses, admiring your smiling face. “Thank you for bringing the file, you’re too sweet.”
“Oh,” you shrug. “It’s nothing.”
“I don’t think so, I don’t know anyone else that would do that for their boss, let alone for someone that isn’t your boss.”
You shift a little, biting your lip, trying not to let your embarrassment bubble up and overwhelm you completely. “Well…”
“I think…” Bud smiles, lightly touching your cheek and titling your head up so that you meet his gaze. “You might have a soft spot for me?”
You freeze, unable to look away from his soft eyes.
“I know I’ve got one for you.” He breathes, leaning a fraction closer. “Do you think I could try a little something, just to make it up to you? Repay you for the favour?”
“I…” You swallow. “It was no problem…”
“Please?” He smiles sweetly, you didn’t notice him take a step nearer, but you moan softly when he presses his lips to yours and groans.
It barely takes a moment before he’s licking into your mouth and walking you backwards to the sofa.
He presses you down gently before he climbs on top of you, kissing you senseless. It’s like he’s everywhere, all at once, stroking and sighing as you lean closer and wrap your arms around him.
His fingers trail down, then up your legs, lightly pushing the dressing gown higher. He breaks the kiss, breathing hard. “Can I?” He asks softly, once more looking at you with those heartbreaker eyes.
You nod, not trusting your voice. Part of you is so sure you shouldn’t be doing this, but the other doesn’t give a single fuck.
He grins happily, scooting down and pushing your clothing higher, and up to your hips. Anxiety begins to swirl and settle, but Bud groans, his eyes rolling back for a second.
“Fuck me, if this isn’t the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.” He licks his bottom lip before he dips down, his warm hands pulling your right thigh onto his shoulder.
You gasp as his mouth touches you and grab at the cushions as he places a soft, light kiss to your clit before he flicks out his tongue.
“Taste so good too.” He mutters, lightheaded. Something about the taste of his own soap mixed with your skin is driving him crazy. He laps again, a long slow lick through your folds that he savours while he pushes at his hardening cock with the heel of his hand.
The little whimper that escapes your throat makes him feral, makes him want to push and push until all he is pulling from you is those sounds.
He moans happily, watching you with lidding, hazy eyes as he licks, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue after every swipe.
“Fuck,” you squirm, breathing hard and trying to get closer to the sweet warmth of his mouth. He grins, pressing closer to you and kneading the back of your thighs with his hands pushing you up and nearer, letting you rock and ride exactly how you want to.
“Bud, please,” your toes curl, pleasure shivering along your limbs, mixing with the pent up anxiety to hurtle you towards your peak.
He moans against you, the vibrations running up your nerves. Your legs part to shake, moving without your control as the sensation builds and builds and builds. You throw your head back, your spine arching as pleasure explodes out and along your skin, bathing you in its soft glow.
You come hard against his mouth, rocking and pulsing as he continues to lap and lick, whining ever so slightly when your cum finally hits his tongue. He slows his movements only stopping when your muscles relax.
“Fuck,” he wipes his mouth greedily, already craving your slick on his tongue again. “You know what, I don’t think I quite made it up to you enough.” He grins cheekily, “I think two or three more should do it.”
Warnings: dub/noncon because of blackmail, smut, hand/blowjob, overstimulation, implied (partial?) virginity loss, big twist
Words: okay so this got way out of hand I genuinely just had to stop before it became any longer it was originally just a bj blurb but then my hand slipped I guess? and kept slipping? up and down (2k)
Rating: E
Summary: coming soon
I’ve had this scenario in my head since I first watched the movie and it just sort of… expanded
This is how damn long it’s taken me
AO3 Link
You shut the door with a sharp click, striding right up beside your coworker, Bud clientfucking Cooper.
He glanced sideways at you through his glasses’ lens, lips pursed slightly before he folded close the file in his hands.
“I’m sorry, could I help you with something?”
“Yes, actually.”
He blinked expectantly.
You made as if you needed something off the shelf in front of him and when he took a step back you gripped him by the lapel and shoved his back into the metal, forearm across his chest. He didn’t flinch.
“Bud you’re about five too many little slip ups past what would have kept you out of trouble. And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
He shrugged.
“I’m sure I don’t.” He deadpanned, that professionally charismatic but soulless smile splitting his face, though you could see a crack in it.
“Bud you try games with me I’ll just walk out of here and inform, oh I dunno, every higher up in the building the fifty-eight thousand dollars you stole from this company’s clients.”
“Shit…” he sighed, sagging, that shitty grin falling. “Okay. How much—”
“I don’t want money.”
“Then what…” he shook his head at a loss.
“I’ll have you know I made copies of the transfers, I’m thinking five years would be conservative for each instance.”
Bud scoffed. “What are you trying to– are you trying to blackmail me?”
“Depends, Buddy. You got something that could make it go away?”
His eyes traveled slowly down and then up your face. He shifted uncomfortably under your unwavering gaze.
His front broke. “No one– don’t call me that.”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what I get to call you.” He glanced behind you, a little confused, then groaned.
He muttered something and exhaled, mentally walking himself back to the present. “That’s just blackmail. I know what you want.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah.” He swallowed. “God fucking damnnit…”
You grinned.
“Here?” He asked, giving an exasperated glance to the door.
“What do you think?” You said.
“Right.” He loosened his tie and untucked his collared shirt from his slacks.
“Allow me.” You said, tugging him closer before pushing him against the file cabinet, knee between his thighs, you nudged his tie aside and undid his top button, leaning in.
He put his hand between you, finger extended. “One kiss.” He said. “Just the one.”
You nodded.
“Glasses stay on.” You said when he reached to take them off.
He sighed and slowly lowered his hand, then shut his eyes.
You pressed against him open mouthed, parting his lips with your tongue and sucking him between your teeth, making him yip muffledly, caught quiet in his throat.
You sucked and tugged and felt out his mouth from his cheeks to the top of his throat before he lurched, unable to breath, and you pulled away.
Pupils blown, lip swollen from your biting, he inhaled sharply and huffed short breaths. He already looked so fucked out.
You crouched in your just below the knee work skirt and unzipped his pants, tugging his boxers down and raising your brow.
“Well damn, Bud. It really is a shame you don’t have a wife.”
“M-make it quick.” He voiced above you, fingers squeezing your shoulder.
“Not too quick,” you said, taking his soft dick in your hand, feeling a twitch of firmness. “Everybody’s still to lunch. Just relax and enjoy this.”
You stroked down his length curiously, slowly bringing him to hardness, expecting him to have been at least half hard after that kiss, but he seemed out of it.
He looked down at you with wide eyes and something clicked in the back of your head.
“Oh my God, has no one ever done this for you at all?”
He visibly tinged, and you couldn’t deny it felt good to have any sort of genuine reaction out of him.
“Shut your mouth and hurry up.” He murmured all too quickly.
You squeezed his cock in your hand, making him wince and the shaft under your fingers throb.
“This is what you were missing out on, turning me down every. Fucking. Time.” You emphasized each word with a harsh downstroke, punching fast breaths from his throat each time your fist went from his hair dusted balls to his already damp head.
It was hard to string even two thoughts together when he was balls deep in your jaw.
“Timeout!” Bud called, and you groaned, pulling off of him with a pop.
“What is it, Bud?” The director sighed.
“Okay, look, I get the sixties thing, the ‘stache, the outfits, I get the blackmail, the workplace setting, I even get the virginal dork stuff,” he tilted his head to you, and you folded your arms. “What I do not get, is uh… little miss sexless pencil skirt, here, the fuck is up with that?” He felt you get up from in front of him but didn’t bother to look.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know what you’re on about.” The director said. “Is there a problem?”
“No, no problem, just… how is it hot if she stays completely clothed, doesn’t touch herself?” He threw his hands up, gesturing. “What, do you find that hot? ‘Cause I’m not turned on.” He shook his head to the cameraperson next to him, and they gave their head a tilt, neither yes nor no. So what if it was a big lie that he wasn’t turned on, he was a liar, it didn’t matter.
“You don’t have to be turned on, you just have to look turned on. Which you’re doing great, by the way.” Bud didn’t know how he managed not to roll his eyes.
“Another thing,” Bud said as he turned back. “Where the hell was my fluffer today? A soft dick is a boring dick and you’re gonna have to cut around all that getting me hard stuff. Which is like dialogue too, so.”
The director sighed. “People like to see the guy get hard these days, makes it look less fake. This is female gaze, you’re not supposed to get it. It’s why she does.”
The director addressed you. “I love your ad libbing, but tone it back, ‘kay?”
You nodded, eying your costar. “I can do that.”
“Perfect. Right, continue blowjob, on script, Bud you bust early you keep going, got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.” Bud cursed under his breath as you got back into position and the cameras pulled back in.
You took him back in your mouth and he felt your eyes were darker, your grip on his thighs a little tighter.
Were you pissed he interrupted or about his comments on the scene? On you? He couldn’t tell, all thoughts left his head completely when you sucked down to the base of his dick, tight and hot and without warning.
He really regretted confiding in you that he had never actually done a blowjob scene before, with how you had and were using it against him. You were just trying to make it look good, right? With the way you were sucking him, like you were trying to get the last bit out of a tube or yogurt, it felt much more personal. Much more like you were tormenting him.
He whined, panting opened mouth as the orgasm he’d just been able to delay overtook him suddenly, warm spurts hitting the back of your tongue.
“You make it hard for me to work and don’t expect trouble?” Your voice came so candid it made Bud double take that this was all being filmed, because for a moment he remembered that though this was your first time in a scene together, you had been coworkers and something of acquaintances for months. Every word out of your mouth was feeling less and less like a campy porn script and more like reality, closely blurring their lines in his mind and making his head spin.
What the hell were you talking about? He hadn’t ever done a thing illegal in his life, not counting what prompted him to turn to porn in the first place. But you surely didn’t know anything about that. Unless you did. Fuck.
He wracked his pleasure soggy brain for what he could’ve done to warrant this. Were his jokes too annoying? Was it ever personal at all?
He just didn't know you well enough to tell.
Your mouth brought his dick back and him to another impending peak, his chin pressed to his chest as his shoulders tightened as he came again and pleasure rushed through him.
“Okay, that’s enough, right?” He panted, only partly to you. “You got what you want.”
“I’m thinking one for every fraud case you took the payout from, yeah? Same number of times you turned me the fuck down.” You pumped some of his spend down his length, grin sharp.
“I don’t, I can’t–”
“I think you can.”
You swirled his head clean before dragging down the underside of his shaft, making the hardness spring back.
His head was too stuffed and blank to refute, to think about anything but how mercilessly you were rawing his cock with your tongue.
He didn’t want to come again, but trying not to was only getting him closer to release again.
“Fuck.” He drew out, screwing his eyes shut tight as his knee buckled, stuttering and shaking through a third orgasm.
He relaxed some when you pulled off, but you continued to work him with your hand, not letting his erection go down, tip angry red and leaking steadily down your knuckles.
He stuttered out your name, no other words coming. He wanted to say it was too much, that he needed to stop, but he couldn’t, too short circuited in discomfort and endorphins, flooded with heat from the floor of his pelvis through his gut to the tips of his ears.
It was completely unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, being overwhelmed so far as to find himself incapable of speech or proper breathing, only barely able to stand there and take it. He felt he might pass out.
But he let you, kept his hand on your head and didn’t push back as you pressed your lips to his balls again, sucking him into the back of your throat, glans kissing your palate with each bob of your head, roughly angling his too hard dick out of shape.
One of the the most common complaints he got was that while he delivered his lines perfectly, he was far to quiet otherwise. That was not a problem this time. Bud whined and grunted with every movement.
He wasn’t even sure anyone else could see, no, he was certain your hand on his thigh having migrated back around to his ass was completely out of view of the camera, your palm kneading the round fat and muscle of his cheek just for you two. It was too much.
Bud crashed over again, vision whitening as he lost all awareness and his teeth clenched till his jaw ached.
You popped off, and finally, finally freed his dick from your grip.
You stood, heels on the tile, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “That’s a good boy.” You whispered.
You gave his cheek a pat.
“Keep it clean, Buddy.” You said in that sultry, coy tone, the last line of the script.
He straightened his glasses and nodded dumbly, tucking himself back into and zipping up his pants.
“Annnd cut! Great job everyone.”
The director put a firm hand on Bud’s shoulder. “Fantastic work, that was incredibly realistic, Bud. I know you were lookin’ to quit but you think you could come back for a couple more shoots? You come like that I could double your rate.”
“Would she–” Bud huffed, not realizing he was still so short of breath. “She be coming back?”
“Her? Oh yes, definitely. Your chemistry was immaculate.”
Bud let out a heavy breath, nodding. “Yeah, then.” He sighed. “I could… I could come back for one or two more.”
