here are some garreth weasley stories i’ve read, loved, and reblogged. all the admiration for the writers who share their talent so generously. please be sure to read the warnings on each fic. and if you enjoy them, let the author know by a comment, reblog, or both! ♡
☆ when she says my name I @wedonthaveawhile
Garreth finds himself entangled with the heroine of Hogwarts. As their encounters become habit, they devolve into a game of power dynamics and possession.
☆ don’t ever leave I @metal-mouse
It has been one year since you have graduated from Hogwarts. You've returned to Hogsmeade for some shopping, and you run into a familiar face. You spend the afternoon catching up with Garreth Weasley, when a rain storm rolls in preventing you from returning home.
☆ dreamful sleep I @cuffmeinblack
Garreth's habit of sleepwalking is driving his friends and roommates insane, until you start to find him in the midst of his dreaming.
☆ out of bounds I @/cuffmeinblack
You agree to help Garreth sneak into his aunt's chambers to retrieve some confiscated notes. In an effort to spend more time with him, you ask him to come with you.
☆ marry you I @thenerdykneazle
Garreth proclaims to anyone and everyone, including you, that he is going to marry you one day – despite the fact that you haven’t even agreed to court him (not that he's asked).
☆ curses and confessions I @5sospenguinqueen
The four times people told you Garreth was in love with you, and the one time Garreth did.
☆ when you know, you know I @writing-intheundercroft
You and Garreth Weasley aren't on speaking terms, not since you were caught stealing billywig stings for him and subsequently banned from Honeydukes. But the dawn of your sixth year brings a potion brewing contest, and you might finally have a chance to put him in his place.
☆ tis the damn season I @/writing-intheundercroft
You're back from five years of traveling the world and living in America, and Garreth Weasley invites you on a foraging trip down to his family cottage in Cornwall. You accept, having regretted not sharing your feelings when you last said goodbye. Or, the origin story of the Weasley knitted sweaters.
☆ blood sport I @festivalsofmargot
Garreth had begged you not to put your name in The Goblet of Fire. The TriWizard Tournament was known for being so dangerous, it was practically a death sentence to every school Champion chosen. You promised him you wouldn’t, but when you found out your best friend Natty had entered her name, you decided to go against his wishes and enter behind his back. Being as capable as you were and the only person in ages able to wield ancient magic, of course your name was chosen. Along with an overwhelming sense of dread that you could die, Garreth felt betrayal, and has kept his distance from you ever since.
☆ illicit affairs I @/festivalsofmargot
Garreth thinks back on his life with you, and it was far from perfect. But he’d relive every second if he had the chance.
☆ home to me part 2 I @chickenlizard13
Takes place after the Scriptorium.
☆ a misplaced apparition I @matchavellichor
While helping Garreth forage for potion ingredients, a misplaced apparition leaves you both magic-less and stranded somewhere in the Forbidden Forest.
☆ no place like home I @eggymf-archived
she couldn’t bear to make him suffer with every horrific danger that constantly chases her, hence she decides to run away one rainy summer night.
☆ silk I @crushribbons
The years have been exceedingly kind to Garreth Weasley.
I've made it easier to provide a rundown of my future posts so they won't get too lost in here - if you ever need anyone to talk to, I am always open to talk. :)
NSFW One Shots
The Sallow List
Sebastian Sallow sneaks into your dormitory and finds a list hidden in your bed, one filled with names of girls who want him. All except yours.
Mutual Pleasure
After spotting Sebastian Sallow being a little too friendly at a party, you can't help, but teach him a lesson in the Room of Requirement.
Soft Fabric, Hard Feelings
You haven't seen Sebastian Sallow since term ended, and when you catch him over the summer wearing gray sweatpants, you can't hold back.
Sexting with Sallow at 3am
In this college AU, Sebastian Sallow thinks you’re the quiet, introverted girl on campus until one purposeful sexting text spirals into him showing up at your dorm at 2 a.m.
My Works
Endgame (Sebastian Sallow) | Wattpad | Ao3
Sebastian Sallow didn't send a letter to Noelle Ellis the summer after fifth year and things start off with ANGST.
Lament (Sebastian Sallow) | Wattpad | Ao3
When Penelope Silverthorn leaves Sebastian Sallow before graduation and comes back to Hogwarts eight years later to only find him betrothed to another.
Withheld (Sebastian Sallow) | Wattpad | Ao3
Aurora Hawthorne sleeps with her best friend, Sebastian Sallow weeks before graduation, but ends up pregnant. She leaves to America without telling him and comes back years later only for Sebastian to find out.
Fervent (Sebastian Sallow) | Wattpad | Ao3
Both Prefects, Sebastian Sallow and Emilia Parker return to Hogwarts with bad blood. (Cheerleader x Quidditch player dynamic)
Other Socials:
Dead Sallow Society Discord Server | Click to Join
This is a HP/HL Discord server I created for my books and writers/creators/readers. There's often movie nights, game roles and etc. Anyone is welcome to join.
Tiktok Profile | Click to go to Tiktok
I no longer post much in here, but when I do, I post edits of my fanfics!
Wattpad - Ao3
If you have any questions or concerns, my ASK is always open.
Below you’ll find all ongoing and completed Hogwarts Legacy fanfiction series, neatly organized for your convenience. Enjoy the ride!
Completed Series
🏁 Heavy Is The Crown – In the wake of Solomon's death, Ominis decides that Sebastian cannot be trusted to make sound judgement and takes measures to ensure that Sebastian will present no danger to himself or others. Sebastian was lucky this time, the new fifth-year and Anne were willing to spare him, but the next time Sebastian crosses a line, Ominis might not be able to save him from death or Azkaban.
Ominis has practically lost Anne, he cannot lose Sebastian too, and he will do whatever it takes to protect Sebastian.
Even from himself.
(Ominis/Sebastian)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
〘 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 〙
~
🏁 Let's Go, Together – What if Anne arrived a little later in the catacombs? What if she didn’t see Sebastian kill Solomon? What if she wasn't overcome with rage, piled upon grief?
You watch helplessly instead, as the twins go to meet fate, hand in hand.
(Gen, slight Ominis/Reader)
➡️ Fic on A03 here or use the tumblr link below!
〘 01 〙
~
🏁 Deleted Scenes – A series of fill in snippets of interactions between Sebastian and Ominis in-between quests, starting with Ominis confronting Sebastian after he catches Main Character leaving the Undercroft. Ending with a longer epilogue chapter that takes place post-game.
(Ominis/Sebastian)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
〘 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 〙
Ongoing Series
(Currently on hiatus)
Welcome to Your Life
The Keeper's tale, a post-game story of a morally-grey, pragmatic, Chaotic Neutral, non-binary, muggleborn, orphan player character, so burned by 1800s orphanages, that they became a power hoarder who demands more payment for quests, burns paintings but doesn't want to rule the world, just their own territory and the two boys who'd caught their eye.
~
✨ Part 1: Everybody Wants To Rule THEIR World – The Keeper (MC) has already secured the repository and Sebastian's loyalty, emboldening his descent into darkness. Now, they just need to win over Ominis, cure Anne, and create a domain to call their own.
And not necessarily in that order.
(Ominis/Sebastian/MC)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
✨ Part 2: Acting On Your Best Behaviour – With the start of the Keeper’s sixth-year in Hogwarts, comes a whole slew of headache-inducing challenges from the most unexpected of places. Between insignificant pests throwing wrenches into their plans and tedious teenage drama, that the Keeper is entirely unprepared for, they wonder if they'll make it to their NEWTs without losing their sanity.
Or worse, Ominis or Sebastian.
(Ominis/Sebastian/MC and onesided Poppy/MC)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
✨ Part 3: It's My Own Design – New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.
And if they were wrong?
What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.
(Ominis/Sebastian/MC and Natty/Poppy)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
✨ Portrait Of The Pirate S – Ominis struggles through each day, his family wants him to become exactly like his older siblings. Rich, powerful, selfish, and cruel adults. He refuses, if being kind and refusing to harm others for his own benefit means being a child, then he will be a child forever.
He hears a sweet whisper from the window. Then come away with me, to Neverland. Come with me and become Peter Pan.
(Ominis/Sebastian)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
〘 01 | 02 | 03 〙
Once again if you can spare some cash, here is my Patreon, where you can feed my cats their gourmet meals and keep me alive enough to type.
My eternal love and gratitude to my beloved partner, @thya-ura, for being my muse and my Alpha and Beta Reader for all my work! Please give them some love too, they draw really cute artwork of our relationship from time to time! ❤️
Respectfully I could fix them ALL if I had the chance and love them the way they need to be loved. My only type is silver-haired broken assholes and dark-haired charismatic beauties
summary: You technically aren't a member of the New Avengers, but you live at the Watchtower and help the team out during missions. The most interesting part? Bucky seems to have a crush on you, the quiet, brooding, mysterious woman.
word count: 13.9k+
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
notes: one of my fav tropes i've seen with thunderbolts!bucky is the secret wife trope, so here's my take on it :)
this is also only my second time writing for bucky, and my first time writing smut for him, so let me know if it's accurate!
warnings/tags: takes place after thunderbolts*, bamf!reader, grumpy x grumpy (but really bucky is kinda sunshine?), secret relationship/marriage, reader is "brooding" and "cold", bucky is a lover boy, smut, slight sub!bucky, slight dom!reader, unprotected piv, creampie, light violence, mention of injury
The Watchtower had been quiet for exactly six minutes when John's voice shattered the peace. "He's doing it again."
Yelena sighed dramatically, not looking up from her phone. "Who’s doing what again?"
John jerked his chin toward the kitchen counter, where Bucky leaned casually, arms crossed. His eyes were fixed across the common area, following you as you silently poured a mug of coffee.
Ava glanced up from the couch, eyes rolling. "Oh. Barnes."
"Again?" Alexei chuckled from his seat next to Yelena, slapping the table enthusiastically. "He’s staring like sad puppy, no? Maybe we throw him a bone?"
Yelena finally glanced up, smirking. "Careful, Dad. Barnes has super hearing. He might overhear your plans."
Alexei scoffed, shrugging his massive shoulders. "So he hears. I say it to his face: Barnes, ask the scary one out already."
Bucky turned slightly, arching a brow. "I’m good, thanks."
"No, clearly you are not," Alexei persisted, enjoying himself. "All this mooning and sighing and staring. Pathetic."
"I’m not mooning."
John snorted. "You’re definitely mooning."
Bucky glared halfheartedly, shifting uncomfortably as you moved past them silently, mug in hand, offering nothing but a faint nod. Once you vanished back down the hall, the conversation reignited in earnest.
Bob glanced up from his seat nearby, his brow pinched slightly in mild confusion. "Wait—so Bucky likes Y/N?"
"Thank you, Bob," Ava murmured dryly. "Keep up."
"But…" Bob tilted his head thoughtfully. "Has he even tried talking to her?"
Yelena smirked at Bucky. "Yeah, Bucky, have you even tried talking?"
Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, fighting a smile. "I talk plenty."
Ava laughed softly. "You stare plenty. Talking, not so much."
"Just ask her out," John said, crossing his arms smugly. "Worst she could do is ignore you—like she already does."
The team burst into laughter. Even Bob managed a shy chuckle. Bucky shook his head, smiling faintly as he turned toward the hallway you'd taken moments before.
"Maybe," he muttered dryly, setting down his empty coffee cup. "Someday."
"Maybe someday," Alexei echoed dramatically. "This is tragedy."
Bucky ignored the loud chatter behind him, wandering slowly toward your shared quarters at the far end of the hall.
---
Inside your quiet room, you sat cross-legged on the bed, reading calmly. You didn’t look up when he closed the door behind him.
"Your teammates are idiots," you murmured, turning a page.
Bucky smiled softly, eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. He walked toward you, sinking easily onto the bed beside you, immediately leaning his head onto your shoulder. "They just think you're intimidating."
"I am intimidating."
"Yes, sweetheart." He tilted his head slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. "Terrifying."
You hummed quietly, setting your book aside as his metal fingers gently traced over your wrist. You shifted, finally looking directly at him, raising a brow. "They also think you're pining hopelessly."
Bucky laughed, rich and genuine, nudging your shoulder affectionately. "Who says I'm not?"
You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth curved upwards faintly. "James."
He smiled, teasing gently, eyes bright. "What?"
You sighed, feigning irritation, but the softness in your gaze betrayed you. "You're ridiculous."
"Maybe," he agreed easily, leaning closer, lips brushing tenderly along your jawline. "But I'm yours."
You huffed softly, fingers sliding gently into his hair, pulling him closer until your lips met, warm and familiar and private.
"Unfortunately," you teased softly as you parted, foreheads resting together.
He smiled brightly, utterly content. "Someday we should tell them."
"Eventually," you conceded dryly, settling back against his chest comfortably. "But would you really take away my only source of entertainment?"
Bucky chuckled quietly, his fingers brushing lightly along your shoulder. "I wouldn’t dream of it."
You hummed, eyes falling shut as you relaxed against him, the quiet settling around you both.
"I still think we should at least tell Yelena," he mused after a moment. "She’s pretty sharp. Might figure it out on her own."
You scoffed softly. "Please. She thinks you’re pining after me. Clearly, her observational skills aren’t that impressive."
Bucky laughed, pressing another quick kiss against your temple. "Harsh."
"True," you corrected.
He smiled against your skin, his metal arm tightening around you slightly. "Fair enough."
The comfortable silence stretched between you, only broken by your quiet breathing and the distant laughter of the team down the hall. After a moment, you turned slightly, glancing at him with a faint smirk.
"Barnes," you said, voice dry and amused. "Were you really mooning?"
He tilted his head back, groaning dramatically. "Not you too."
You shrugged casually, barely hiding your smile. "I'm just confirming. For clarity."
"Well, I wasn’t," he insisted, eyes sparkling. "I was just... observing."
"Right," you drawled. "Observing."
"Exactly," he nodded solemnly, biting back a smile. "Observing my scary, intimidating, secretly soft-hearted wife."
"Don’t push it," you warned, poking his chest gently. "I’ve got a reputation to uphold."
"Trust me, sweetheart," Bucky teased, voice warm and gentle, "no one's doubting your reputation."
You huffed again, leaning up to kiss him softly, muttering against his lips, "You're lucky you're cute."
"I know," he grinned brightly, eyes crinkling as he drew you closer again. "Very lucky."
You rolled your eyes, hiding your smile against his chest as the comfortable silence returned, content to enjoy each other’s company without interruptions.
---
Two days later, you wandered into the common area, pausing briefly as you spotted the team huddled around the TV, eyes glued to the screen. "What's this?" you asked dryly.
"Movie night," Ava replied, glancing back at you. "Join us?"
You shook your head slightly, making your way toward the kitchen. "I'll pass."
Yelena smirked, not taking her eyes off the TV. "Shocking."
Bucky looked up, catching your gaze. "C’mon, doll. Stay for a little bit."
You paused, arching an eyebrow pointedly at him. "Why would I?"
He shrugged innocently, leaning back into the couch. "For the pleasure of our charming company?"
John snorted. "Real subtle, Barnes."
Alexei chuckled, tossing popcorn into his mouth. "He tries."
You ignored them, continuing your path to the coffee machine. You barely managed to pour yourself a cup before you heard Bucky's quiet footsteps approaching. He leaned casually against the counter beside you, arms folded, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.
"Nice pajamas," he teased quietly, glancing at your oversized sweatshirt and leggings.
"Keep it up," you muttered dryly. "See if you ever get to borrow them again."
He chuckled softly, leaning in slightly closer, voice low and warm. "We’re overdue for date night."
You sipped your coffee, glancing at him sideways. "You’re getting needy."
"Maybe," he admitted shamelessly, nudging you gently. "But I prefer 'romantic.'"
"Gross."
"You love it," he murmured warmly.
"Unfortunately," you agreed softly, finally turning toward him. "Fine. Date night. But I'm picking."
"As long as it’s not another stakeout, sweetheart."
"No promises," you teased, sipping your coffee again as you turned away. "Now go watch your movie."
He chuckled, shaking his head fondly as you disappeared down the hallway. When he turned back toward the couch, he found the entire team staring at him, various expressions of disbelief on their faces. "What?" he asked suspiciously.
Alexei pointed at him accusingly. "You talked. Actual conversation."
Ava raised an eyebrow. "She didn't stab you."
Yelena shook her head, smiling slightly. "Barnes, you might actually have a chance."
"Yeah, maybe in twenty years," John snorted.
Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, settling back onto the couch comfortably. "Told you—I talk plenty."
Bob nodded slowly, genuinely impressed. "Good job, Bucky."
"Thanks, Bob." Bucky smiled, eyes flicking briefly toward the hall. "I'm working on it."
---
The following evening, you leaned quietly against the wall, watching with mild interest as Bucky sparred against John on the training mats. The rest of the team lingered around the room, half-training, half-observing the two men in action.
Alexei crossed his arms, grinning broadly. "Come on, Barnes! Use metal arm—show Walker who's boss."
"He's trying to train," Yelena drawled from beside you. "Not murder our teammate."
You didn't react outwardly, but your lips twitched slightly in amusement.
Across the mats, John ducked away from Bucky’s fist, panting slightly. "You holding back, Barnes?"
Bucky smirked, circling him easily. "Just going easy on you."
John scoffed. "Bullshit. You’re distracted."
"Distracted?" Bucky echoed mildly, his eyes briefly flicking in your direction.
John followed his gaze knowingly, smirking. "Yeah. Distracted."
Bucky sighed dramatically, rolling his shoulders as he pretended to think. "Right. Got my mind on other things."
"Or other people," Ava muttered dryly from the punching bag.
Yelena smirked, elbowing you gently. "Look at that. Bucky still pining away."
You kept your expression neutral, voice flat. "Tragic."
On the mat, Bucky caught John's fist in his metal hand, twisting lightly. "Ready to yield yet?"
John grumbled, pulling his hand free. "Fine, fine. Jesus."
Bucky chuckled, stepping back easily, eyes sliding again to you. "Who's next?"
Yelena nudged you lightly. "Why not you, Y/N? Barnes clearly wants your attention."
You exhaled slowly, stepping away from the wall toward the mat. "Fine."
The team fell into immediate silence as you moved toward Bucky, standing opposite him calmly. He raised an eyebrow, his mouth curved into a teasing grin. "Careful, doll. I bruise easily."
"You’ll live," you muttered, stretching your arms briefly.
John backed off the mats, smirking. "This oughta be good."
Bucky circled you slowly, voice low enough only you could hear. "You gonna let me win?"
"Absolutely not."
"Good," he murmured, lunging forward easily, eyes bright with amusement.
You sidestepped him effortlessly, landing a swift blow to his ribs. Bucky laughed softly, twisting away, clearly enjoying himself.
"Think they're flirting?" Alexei loudly whispered to Yelena.
"If by flirting you mean trying to kill each other," Ava remarked dryly, "then yes."
Bucky caught your wrist gently, pulling you slightly toward him. "Having fun yet?"
You rolled your eyes slightly, easily slipping your wrist from his grip. "Always."
"Good," he chuckled, stepping closer, voice dropping softer. "Me too."
"You’re ridiculous," you murmured quietly.
"I know," he agreed cheerfully, just before you swept his leg neatly, sending him sprawling onto the mats with a loud thud.
The team collectively winced.
Bucky blinked up at you, laughing as you offered him your hand to pull him up. "Had enough?" you asked calmly.
He took your hand, pulling himself smoothly to his feet, voice warm and teasing as he leaned close. "Not even close."
"Gross," John muttered.
"Agreed," Ava smirked, returning her attention to her training bag.
Bucky stepped back reluctantly, smiling easily as he rubbed his ribs. "Thanks for the match, doll."
You rolled your eyes, hiding your faint smile. “Just to be clear, I’m still waiting for date night. This doesn’t count.”
Bucky chuckled quietly, running a hand through his slightly mussed hair. “Fair enough. Tomorrow?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Demanding, Barnes.”
He smirked softly. “Consider it enthusiastic.”
“Same difference,” you muttered dryly, turning away. “Tomorrow works.”
You started back toward the edge of the mats, ignoring the curious looks from the team. Ava raised an eyebrow as you passed her.
“You okay, Barnes?” John called out teasingly. “Your ego survive that?”
Bucky snorted, dusting himself off easily. “Think I'll recover.”
Alexei shook his head, looking impressed. “She is formidable opponent. Why you not recruit her officially, Yelena?”
Yelena shrugged lightly, glancing toward you. “Because I value my life.”
Bucky sighed dramatically, shaking his head in mock despair. “I told you—I’m working on it.”
You watched quietly from your spot against the wall, expression neutral, coffee mug clasped in your hands. Bucky’s gaze caught yours briefly, warmth flickering across his eyes for just a moment before he turned away.
Yelena sighed dramatically, standing and stretching her arms lazily over her head. “Tragic,” she said flatly. “Come on, let’s wrap up. Alexei promised pizza.”
Alexei beamed proudly. “Extra pineapple for Bob!”
“I don’t actually like pineapple—” Bob started softly, then sighed and smiled. “Never mind.”
John clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “You’ll learn, Bob.”
The team slowly started to file out of the training room, chatting loudly amongst themselves. Bucky lingered behind, waiting until the others had vanished before moving quietly toward you.
“Pizza?” he asked quietly, nudging your shoulder gently.
You tilted your head slightly, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Fine.”
He smiled warmly, leaning closer and murmuring quietly. “You’re secretly excited, admit it.”
You snorted softly, hiding a faint smile behind your mug. “Don’t push it.”
Bucky’s smile widened into a grin as he straightened again, falling easily into step beside you. “Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart.”
“Good,” you muttered dryly, sipping your coffee. “Wouldn’t want to have to hurt you again.”
He laughed warmly, eyes bright with affection as you moved quietly toward the elevator. “You love me too much to hurt me.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping into the elevator beside him, voice calm and casual. “Don’t be so sure.”
He smiled softly, watching you from the corner of his eye, quiet amusement lingering between you both. The elevator doors slid shut quietly, enclosing you both in comfortable silence.
---
You stepped quietly into the common area, where the team had already settled around the table, chatting loudly. Bob smiled at you shyly as he moved over to make space.
You sank smoothly into the chair next to Bob, giving a faint nod. Across from you, Bucky's eyes lifted briefly, lingering on you with mild curiosity. You met his gaze evenly, then casually unzipped your half-zip pullover just a little bit further, revealing the faintest glimpse of delicate white lace beneath.
Bucky's eyes flicked immediately downward, then shot quickly back up to yours, clearly startled. He shifted slightly in his seat, clearing his throat softly.
"Alright there, Barnes?" John asked casually, reaching for a slice.
"Yeah," Bucky murmured, forcing his gaze down to the pizza. "Fine."
You ate quietly, barely participating in conversation but very aware of Bucky's occasional discreet glances your way. Every subtle movement you made—reaching for a napkin, shifting slightly—gave him brief but intentional glimpses of lace against your skin.
Bucky swallowed hard, eyes narrowing slightly each time he caught sight of you, clearly struggling to maintain his composure.
"You’re quiet tonight, Y/N," Ava commented casually, glancing over at you.
"Possibly," you agreed blandly, ignoring Bucky's slightly tense posture. After a few more minutes, you rose smoothly from your chair, setting your napkin down quietly. "I'm turning in."
"So soon?" Alexei called, looking disappointed. "Night still young!"
"Goodnight," you replied dryly, heading quietly toward the hallway.
You felt Bucky’s gaze on your back, heavy and heated. You barely made it halfway to the bedroom when you heard his chair scrape back, followed closely by Alexei's loud chuckle and John's amused muttering.
You entered the room first, stepping calmly inside, hearing the door click shut quietly behind Bucky a few moments later. You glanced back at him casually, watching as he leaned heavily against the door, eyes dark.
"You really enjoy torturing me, don't you?" he murmured dryly, his voice low and rough.
You tilted your head slightly, feigning confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
He stepped toward you slowly, expression skeptical. "Really?"
You arched an eyebrow innocently. "Problem?"
"Yeah," he muttered softly, his eyes trailing slowly downward, lingering pointedly on the now-visible lace beneath your shirt. "That’s a problem."
You shrugged casually, turning away from him and starting to pull off your pullover, leaving you standing comfortably in leggings and your white lace bra. "Just a bra, Barnes."
He huffed softly, moving closer until he stood right behind you, hands gently settling on your hips. "It’s more than just a bra, doll."
You tilted your head back slightly against his chest, lips twitching faintly. "Punishment for delaying date night."
He groaned softly, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. "You’re cruel."
"Maybe," you conceded calmly, turning slowly in his arms to face him. Your eyes softened slightly as you reached up, gently cupping his jaw. "But you deserve it."
He sighed dramatically, but his mouth curved into a faint smirk as his lips brushed lightly against yours. "Fine. Guilty."
Your lips met again slowly, soft and teasing at first, then gradually deeper. You sighed quietly against his mouth, sliding your hands into his hair, tugging gently. He gripped your hips a little tighter, pulling you closer until your bodies pressed together firmly.
You pulled away gently after a few more lingering kisses, smiling faintly at his dazed expression. "I'm taking a shower. Alone."
Bucky groaned softly again, giving you something close to a pout as he reluctantly released you. "Really?"
"Really," you replied firmly, stepping back toward the bathroom. "Consider it payback."
"Sweetheart," he started pleadingly, reaching for your hand, eyes wide and hopeful.
You shook your head, lips twitching slightly with amusement. "My decision stands."
He sighed heavily, dramatically collapsing onto the bed, watching you move toward the bathroom door with exaggerated despair. "You're killing me."
"You'll live," you said dryly, shooting him one final teasing glance before disappearing into the bathroom.
You shut the door quietly, smiling faintly to yourself as you heard him mutter a quiet, resigned curse on the other side.
---
You woke slowly the next morning, blinking sleepily in the muted sunlight filtering through the curtains. Bucky’s steady breathing was warm against your neck, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. You shifted slightly, feeling him stir behind you.
"Morning," you murmured softly.
He hummed sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss against your shoulder. "Morning, sweetheart."
"Still pouting?"
"Maybe a little," he admitted, voice thick with sleep as he nuzzled gently against your neck. "You’re mean."
"You deserved it," you murmured quietly, shifting back against him slightly.
He hummed softly, lips brushing warmly against your skin. "Maybe. But you enjoy it way too much."
"Maybe," you echoed dryly, feeling his hand slip from your waist down toward your hip, fingers tracing slowly beneath the edge of your shirt.
Bucky’s lips moved lazily over your shoulder, teeth grazing gently as his leg slid slowly between yours, pressing softly until your breath caught. His metal hand drifted lower, fingertips teasing the waistband of your underwear.
"James," you warned quietly, eyes closing slowly.
"Hm?" he murmured innocently, pressing a warm kiss just below your ear.
You sighed softly, relaxing slightly against him. "We should probably—"
A loud knock at the door shattered the quiet moment. Bucky groaned deeply, dropping his forehead heavily onto your shoulder.
"Barnes!" Yelena’s voice called sharply through the door. "Alexei made pancakes. And he’s offended you’re not here."
Bucky sighed dramatically against your skin, hand withdrawing reluctantly. "Tell him I’m busy."
Yelena paused a moment before knocking again, harder. "No. Get up. He’ll mope."
You rolled your eyes, lightly patting Bucky’s thigh. "Duty calls."
"Don’t care," he muttered petulantly, tightening his arm around your waist again. "I want pancakes with you, not them."
"Barnes!" Yelena snapped again, louder now. "Don’t make me break the door."
"Alright, alright," Bucky called back irritably, sighing heavily as he finally released you, rolling onto his back dramatically. "Be right there."
You turned onto your side, watching him quietly, eyebrow raised faintly. "Tragic."
"Very," he agreed solemnly, glaring half-heartedly at the ceiling.
You leaned over, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to his jawline before standing smoothly from the bed. "I'll make it up to you later."
Bucky’s pout softened into a hopeful smirk. "Promise?"
"Maybe," you said dryly, walking to your dresser. "Now get up, Barnes. Can’t keep the kids waiting."
He sighed loudly, reluctantly dragging himself out of bed as you quietly slipped into your leggings. "You sure you don’t want to stay in bed? I’ll fake an injury."
"You’re pathetic," you murmured, lips twitching faintly as you headed toward the door. "Now move."
He groaned softly again, following you toward the door. "Fine. But I reserve the right to sulk."
"You always do," you muttered, stepping out into the hallway without another glance, leaving him shaking his head fondly behind you.
---
Later in the day, you were leaning against the kitchen counter, eating an apple while reading a book. The rest of the team was scattered around—Yelena, Alexei, and Bob chatting animatedly by the fridge, John and Ava lazily lounging on the couch in the living room, TV quietly droning.
You barely looked up when Bucky approached, quietly leaning next to you, close enough for your shoulders to brush. He crossed his arms casually, eyes fixed on your face with a faint smile.
"Got us reservations at Il Mulino tonight," he murmured softly, voice low enough that only you could hear.
You took another bite of your apple, flipping the page. "I don’t want Italian."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes crinkling in amusement. "Since when don’t you want Italian?"
"Since now," you replied evenly, eyes not leaving your page. "I want a burger."
Bucky chuckled softly, bumping your shoulder gently with his. "You’re killin’ me, doll. It’s impossible to get into that burger place of yours last minute."
"Red Hook Tavern," you corrected calmly. "And I have faith in you, Barnes."
He sighed dramatically, nudging you again. "Yeah, yeah, I’ll figure something out. But you owe me."
You finally glanced up at him, eyes narrowed slightly. "For what? You owe me."
He smiled sheepishly, ducking his head. "Fair point."
Across the kitchen, Yelena elbowed Bob discreetly, both watching your quiet exchange with curiosity. "Are they… arguing?" Bob whispered uncertainly, brows furrowing.
Alexei snorted, shaking his head confidently. "No, Bob, this is called flirting. Barnes is flirting badly."
John glanced over from the couch, smirking faintly. "Bucky’s gonna strike out again."
Ava rolled her eyes lightly, voice amused. "Poor guy never learns."
Back at the counter, Bucky leaned in closer, lips nearly brushing your ear. "You know I spoil you, doll."
You hummed softly, voice deadpan. "Burger or nothing."
He huffed a laugh, stepping back slightly, smiling affectionately. "Fine. Burger it is."
"Good." You bit your apple again, returning your attention fully to your book. "Glad that's settled."
He lingered for another moment, watching you quietly with a faint, private smile before finally turning away, walking casually toward the elevator.
The second the doors slid shut behind him, Yelena smirked openly at you from across the kitchen. "Y/N, did Barnes finally work up the courage to ask you out?"
You glanced at her briefly, expression unreadable. "No."
Alexei groaned loudly, slapping his palm dramatically against his forehead. "Pathetic!"
Bob looked genuinely confused, tilting his head slightly. "But they talk all the time."
Yelena shook her head, sighing deeply. "It's complicated, Bob. Barnes pines. Y/N tolerates."
You ignored their chatter, turning quietly away to head down the hall toward your rarely-used room, your expression carefully neutral.
"You're all wrong," John drawled loudly from the couch. "She's just plotting how to murder him."
Ava smiled faintly, eyes still fixed on the TV. "Honestly, who could blame her?"
Yelena sighed dramatically again, leaning her hip against the counter. "Tragic."
You didn't bother responding, closing your bedroom door quietly behind you, a faint, hidden smile touching your lips as you reached for your phone to text Bucky a single word: "Burger?"
His response was almost immediate, playful and warm: "Anything for you, sweetheart."
---
A few hours later, you stepped out of the elevator and into the common area, quietly slipping past the team, who were sprawled out comfortably, watching some mindless action movie.
Yelena glanced up, eyebrows rising curiously. "Whoa. Where you going dressed like that?"
"Out," you replied evenly, adjusting the sleeve of your jacket slightly.
"Out?" John echoed suspiciously, eyes narrowing slightly. "Since when do you go out?"
You shrugged calmly, heading toward the door without looking back. "Since now."
Alexei squinted suspiciously, nudging Bob hard. "You see, Bob? Very mysterious. This one has secret life, I tell you."
Bob blinked slowly, clearly puzzled. "Really?"
Ava rolled her eyes fondly. "Probably just going to scare people for fun."
You didn't respond, stepping smoothly through the doors and disappearing down the hall.
---
Five minutes later, Bucky emerged casually from his room, wearing a dark jacket and looking unusually put together. He adjusted his collar, glancing casually around the room as he headed for the exit.
John's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And where exactly are you headed, Barnes?"
"Got some errands to run," Bucky said easily, not breaking his stride.
He shrugged lightly, shooting her a casual smirk. "I like running errands."
Alexei shook his head, sighing loudly. "Two secret lives under one roof. This team falling apart."
Bob glanced uncertainly between the group. "But—"
"Don't hurt yourself thinking, Bob," Ava interrupted dryly.
Bob sighed softly. "Okay."
"Don't wait up," Bucky called over his shoulder, stepping quickly into the elevator and hitting the button for the ground floor, ignoring the curious stares that followed him.
---
Outside, you stood leaning casually against the side of the building, arms crossed loosely as you waited. The busy Manhattan streets hummed with distant traffic, lights casting a soft glow against the pavement.
When the doors finally opened, Bucky stepped out, immediately breaking into a warm smile as he caught sight of you. "Hey, sweetheart," he murmured softly, walking toward you with a playful glint in his eyes. "Fancy meeting you here."
You gave him a deadpan look. "Took you long enough."
He chuckled quietly, leaning down to press a soft, quick kiss against your cheek. "Sorry. Had to shake the interrogation."
You rolled your eyes, stepping smoothly into pace beside him as you both began walking. "They suspicious?"
"Always," he sighed dramatically, sliding an arm comfortably around your waist. "Luckily, they're clueless."
You hummed softly, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "Good."
Bucky nudged you gently, voice teasing. "You look good."
You glanced at him sideways, eyebrow arching faintly. "Better appreciate it. I don't dress up for just anyone."
He laughed quietly, tugging you a bit closer to him as you walked. "Believe me, doll, I'm honored."
"Gross," you muttered lightly, hiding your smile against his shoulder as he laughed again, the two of you disappearing together into the lively Manhattan evening.
---
The two of you settled comfortably into the subway seats, the train gently rumbling beneath you as it moved toward Brooklyn. Bucky sat close, thigh pressed against yours, arm casually draped over the back of your seat.
"You know," he murmured playfully, eyes fixed on the dark windows flashing by, "we could've taken a car."
You scoffed lightly, leaning back. "And miss watching you navigate public transportation? Never."
He laughed softly, nudging your shoulder with his. "I'm not that bad."
"You still stare suspiciously at the turnstiles."
"They beep at me," he muttered defensively. "Makes me nervous."
You hummed dryly. "Super soldier, war hero—intimidated by a turnstile."
He sighed dramatically, squeezing your shoulder lightly. "You’re mean, sweetheart."
"You married me," you pointed out calmly.
"Must've been temporarily insane," he teased, lips brushing your temple softly. "Lucky for me, the condition’s permanent."
You rolled your eyes faintly, though a hidden smile curled your lips. "You realize you're flirting with your own wife, right?"
"Constantly," he admitted shamelessly. "You complaining?"
"No," you murmured softly, leaning your head onto his shoulder. "But don't let it go to your head."
"Too late," he chuckled softly, kissing the crown of your head.
The train finally slowed, pulling into your stop. You stood easily, Bucky’s hand sliding naturally into yours as you navigated the crowds, stepping onto the platform and heading up toward the Brooklyn streets.
---
Red Hook Tavern was warm, cozy, bustling comfortably with chatter. A low, mellow soundtrack filled the space, the scent of burgers and fries thick in the air. Bucky guided you gently through the small crowd, settling into a quiet booth toward the back.
You leaned back, breathing in contentedly. "See? Better than pasta."
Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling faintly. "You win. Happy now?"
"Very," you replied dryly, eyes glinting with faint amusement.
He watched you thoughtfully for a moment, his expression softening. "You're cute when you're smug."
You narrowed your eyes slightly. "Careful, Barnes."
"What?" He smiled innocently, leaning across the table. "Just appreciating my date."
"Again," you muttered fondly, "you're married."
He shrugged casually, glancing down at the menu. "Just means I have exceptional taste."
You hid your smile behind your menu, shaking your head lightly. "Ridiculous."
"You love it."
"Unfortunately," you conceded, setting your menu aside as the waitress approached.
---
An hour later, the two of you wandered quietly through Brooklyn’s quieter streets, fingers intertwined, the glow of streetlights casting soft shadows on the pavement. "Happy?" Bucky asked softly, glancing down at you with a gentle smile.
"Surprisingly," you replied evenly, leaning slightly against his side as you walked.
He nudged you playfully. "I'm sensing a compliment."
"Don't get used to it."
He chuckled quietly, voice warm. "Wouldn't dream of it."
You walked in comfortable silence for a few more blocks, the soft hum of distant traffic and nightlife filling the spaces between you.
"You ever gonna let them know?" Bucky finally asked, tone carefully casual. "The team?"
You sighed quietly, eyes flicking up toward him briefly. "Eventually. Just… not yet."
He squeezed your hand lightly, understanding. "Whatever you want, doll."
"Thank you," you murmured softly, leaning your head against his arm as you continued walking.
Bucky smiled warmly down at you, his voice quiet and teasing. "Don't worry. They’re all still convinced you hate me."
You snorted softly. "Good."
"Harsh," he murmured fondly.
"True," you countered dryly.
He laughed softly again, gently guiding you toward the subway entrance, heading back toward the Watchtower.
---
You stepped back into the Watchtower quietly, slipping from Bucky’s side as the elevator doors opened. He lingered behind a minute, watching as you vanished silently into his room, maintaining the illusion carefully.
The common room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the city through the large windows and the soft overhead lights from the kitchen. It seemed deserted until Yelena suddenly appeared, leaning casually against the fridge with a glass of water in hand.
"Late errands, Barnes?" she asked pointedly, eyebrow raised in amusement.
"Something like that," Bucky replied easily, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of the nearest chair.
She hummed, eyes glinting mischievously. "Interesting. Because Y/N just got back too. Coincidence?"
He rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms comfortably. "It’s Manhattan, Lena. Not exactly a small town."
"Right," she drawled sarcastically. "So just an innocent coincidence."
He tilted his head slightly, smirking faintly. "Why do you care, anyway?"
"I don’t," she said mildly, taking a sip of her water. "But Alexei’s invested. He thinks you’re finally making progress."
"Glad he's entertained," Bucky muttered dryly, pushing away from the counter and heading toward his room. "Night, Lena."
"Goodnight, Barnes," she called after him, amusement still evident in her voice. "Sleep well."
---
Bucky stepped quietly into his room, shutting the door behind him softly. The bathroom door was closed, the lights shining from underneath the door. He sighed comfortably, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it casually onto a nearby chair. Moving toward his dresser, he opened a drawer, sifting lazily through shirts and sweatpants.
The bathroom door clicked softly open behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder absently, then froze. His eyes widened, then narrowed appreciatively, gaze sweeping slowly from head to toe. You leaned casually against the doorframe, completely at ease in a two-piece lingerie set—deep emerald green, his favorite color—with a short black silk robe hanging loosely off your shoulders.
Bucky swallowed hard, momentarily speechless. "Jesus," he muttered faintly under his breath.
You arched a single eyebrow, expression carefully neutral. "See something you like, Barnes?"
"God, yes," he admitted shamelessly, turning fully to face you, eyes lingering appreciatively. "Special occasion?"
You shrugged casually, pushing off from the doorframe and walking slowly toward him. "You finally came through on date night. I figured you deserved a reward."
He chuckled softly, his voice low as his eyes tracked every subtle movement. "Remind me to always give you exactly what you want."
You hummed quietly, stopping mere inches from him, tilting your head slightly upward. "Smart man."
He reached out carefully, fingers grazing softly along the smooth silk fabric of your robe. His gaze flicked warmly to yours, playful and heated. "How long have you been hiding this?"
You met his stare evenly, unbothered. "Long enough."
He smiled faintly, tugging you gently closer by the ties of your robe. "Tease."
"Maybe," you conceded quietly, not resisting as he slowly pulled you closer, lips hovering just above yours. "But you're into it."
"Very," he murmured softly, finally capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His hand slipped beneath your robe, gently sliding along your waist, pulling you flush against him.
You sighed softly, pressing closer, fingers tangling lazily into his hair. "Told you I’d make it up to you."
He hummed appreciatively against your lips. "You're definitely forgiven."
"Good," you replied dryly, guiding him backward until his legs hit the edge of the bed, and he sank easily onto it, hands settling firmly on your hips. You stood comfortably between his knees, looking down at him calmly, your fingers drifting slowly along his jawline.
"You’re staring," he teased softly, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"You love it," you murmured bluntly.
He chuckled warmly, tilting his head up to kiss your fingertips softly. "Unfortunately."
"Thought so," you replied evenly, finally sliding onto his lap, knees settling easily on either side of him.
His eyes fluttered briefly shut, breath hitching as your weight settled comfortably over him. "You're killing me."
"You’ll live," you said flatly, fingers slowly trailing down his chest, teasing the edges of his shirt. "Now take this off."
He obeyed quickly, tugging his shirt easily over his head, tossing it aside without a glance. His hands returned immediately to your waist, sliding slowly upward, fingertips grazing gently along the lace covering your ribs.
"Beautiful," he murmured softly, eyes warm as he leaned forward, lips brushing gently against your collarbone.
You tilted your head slightly back, eyes closing softly. "I know."
Bucky laughed quietly against your skin, warm breath ghosting along your neck. "And humble."
"Shut up, Barnes," you muttered quietly, pulling his face back up to yours, capturing his lips firmly.
He smiled into the kiss, deepening it slowly, hands tightening gently on your hips, drawing you closer until there was no space left between you. Your breath hitched, body flush to his, silk brushing skin with every shift. You tugged his bottom lip with your teeth before pulling back just enough to murmur:
“Move up.”
Bucky blinked, caught off guard, then smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”
He shifted up the bed without argument, head brushing the headboard, arms propped behind him. You stayed on his lap the entire time, thighs bracketing his, your robe sliding further open with every slight movement, the soft lace of your bra brushing against his bare chest.
You rolled your hips forward, slow, just enough friction to make his hands fly to your waist again. His breath stuttered.
“Fuck, doll…”
“You’re still overdressed,” you muttered, fingers already working his belt loose, eyes fixed on the buckle like it offended you.
He chuckled low. “Can’t say no when you look at me like that.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” you replied flatly, shoving his pants and briefs down far enough to free him, eyes flicking up to catch the way his jaw tensed.
“Shit,” Bucky muttered, gaze locked on the way you curled your fingers around him, stroking just enough to make him hiss.
You didn’t waste time. Just shifted your weight, pushed your underwear to the side, lined him up, and sank down in one slow, steady motion. His head thudded softly against the wall behind him.
“Goddamn—” he hissed between his teeth, hands gripping your hips hard. “You feel—fuck, doll—perfect.”
Your brows knit briefly, jaw clenching as you adjusted to the stretch, but you didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. You lowered until he was fully inside, buried to the hilt, and only then did you pause—just to make sure he felt every inch of you around him.
He reached up, brushing your cheek with one hand, voice low. “You okay?”
You met his gaze, flat and unreadable, but your voice was rough when you replied. “Yeah. Shut up.”
Bucky just laughed, breathless. “Knew you loved me.”
You started to move—slow, controlled rolls of your hips that had him swearing under his breath, fingers twitching against your waist like he was trying not to force your pace. He didn’t have to. You had a rhythm, deliberate and maddening.
“You're tryin’ to kill me,” he groaned, head tilted back.
You leaned forward slightly, hands braced on his chest, spine arching as you rocked against him again. “If I wanted you dead, Barnes, you'd already be a corpse.”
“Shit, that’s hot,” he muttered, grip tightening again.
You smirked faintly, then leaned in, lips brushing his. “Told you I don’t dress up for just anyone.”
“And I told you,” he growled, sitting up to meet you halfway, “I’m honored.”
You reached between you and yanked on his dog tags, jerking him into a hard kiss. He groaned into it, mouth slanted against yours as his hands slid down, one settling firmly on your ass, the other at the small of your back, guiding your rhythm now, hips rising to meet yours on every downstroke.
Your breath hitched when he hit that spot—again. Again. Your fingers twisted tighter in the chain around his neck.
“Fuuuck,” he muttered, biting your bottom lip. “Keep clenching like that and this is gonna be over real fast, sweetheart.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” you panted against his mouth, forehead pressed to his. “You’ll last.”
He grinned, voice wrecked. “Bossy. Love that.”
You rocked harder, pace picking up now, sweat starting to bead at your temples. Your robe slid entirely off your shoulders, forgotten.
Bucky looked up at you like you hung the moon. Like the way your brow furrowed in pleasure was something sacred. He reached up, thumb brushing along your jaw, voice barely audible over the wet slap of skin on skin.
“Look at you,” he murmured, utterly gone. “My fuckin’ wife.”
You kissed him again, rougher this time, teeth clacking for a second, neither of you caring. You moaned low in your throat, the sound dragging from your chest when he shifted just slightly and—
“Ohhh—fuck,” you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders as you chased it, that tight pull in your stomach threatening to snap. “Right there.”
Bucky grunted, hips snapping up to meet yours harder. “Come on, doll. Let go for me. You’ve been so fuckin’ good.”
You curled your fingers into his shoulder blades and dropped your head to his neck, teeth scraping skin as your entire body shuddered.
He felt it—your pulse pounding where your mouth met his throat, the way you clenched down so tight around him he nearly lost it on the spot.
“That’s it,” he growled, biting back a moan. “That’s my girl.”
You rode it out with a broken gasp, voice cracking on a low, “Shit—fuck—Bucky—”
He thrust up hard twice more and then stilled, buried deep, arms crushing you to his chest as he came with a sharp exhale against your ear, voice rough as gravel.
“Fuck, doll, fuck—you drive me fuckin’ insane—”
You both breathed heavy, bodies slick and tangled, still flush together. You stayed straddled over him, his arms still locked tight around your waist.
Eventually, he muttered against your throat, voice raspy, “am I forgiven?”
You huffed softly, fingers lazily tracing patterns on his chest. "Provisionally."
"Provisionally?" he echoed, pulling back slightly to give you a playful, offended look. "Sweetheart, after that?"
"Especially after that," you drawled dryly, leaning forward again to kiss him softly. "You delayed date night."
"I got you your burger," he argued lightly, kissing your jaw. "And fries."
"You delayed," you repeated evenly, shifting slightly, making him groan quietly.
He exhaled slowly, leaning his forehead gently against yours. "Fine. How do I make it up to you?"
"Breakfast in bed."
He chuckled softly, tightening his arms gently around your waist. "Done. Anything else?"
"Coffee. Good coffee."
"You drive a hard bargain," he murmured, lips brushing softly against your temple.
You pulled back, leveling him with a serious look. "And you're still talking."
Bucky laughed quietly, eyes bright with affection. "Harsh."
You hummed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. "True."
He gently stroked your back, the silence settling comfortably around you both for a moment before he spoke again, voice soft. "You planning on staying tonight?"
You tilted your head slightly, arching a brow. "I always stay."
He smiled warmly, pressing a kiss lightly to your forehead. "Just checking."
You rolled your eyes faintly, voice low. "Barnes, you're needy."
"Only with you," he teased gently, fingers tracing softly along your spine. "Don’t tell anyone."
"Trust me," you muttered dryly, closing your eyes comfortably, "not an issue."
He chuckled quietly again, shifting slightly until you both lay comfortably tangled together, blankets pulled loosely around you. You sighed softly, feeling your body finally relax fully against his.
"Wake me up early and you're dead," you warned softly.
"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart," he murmured, lips pressing gently to the crown of your head. "Sleep well."
You hummed softly, already half asleep. "You too."
He tightened his hold slightly, breathing slowly evening out as the two of you drifted comfortably into sleep.
---
You stepped quietly into the training room, finding the team already deep into sparring practice. Alexei and John were loudly wrestling on one side, Ava was rhythmically hammering into a punching bag, and Yelena stood by Bob, calmly instructing him through basic defensive stances.
You slipped past them, silently observing from your usual place against the wall.
“Decided to show after all?” Ava asked dryly, pausing briefly to glance at you.
You gave a faint nod, not responding verbally. She shrugged slightly, returning to her bag.
Moments later, Bucky stepped in, quietly catching your eye across the room. He offered you a small, playful smirk. You raised an eyebrow in silent acknowledgment.
John immediately spotted him, stepping away from Alexei with a wide grin. "Hey Barnes, you gonna spar today or you too busy humming?"
Bucky sighed heavily, stepping onto the mats casually. "You really don't let anything go, do you?"
Alexei chuckled, slapping Bucky’s shoulder enthusiastically. "Of course not! Team bonding means constant harassment. Builds character."
"Thanks, Alexei," Bucky muttered sarcastically. He looked around the room, glancing pointedly at John. "Fine. Let's go."
You settled more comfortably against the wall, watching calmly as Bucky circled John easily. He moved fluidly, clearly holding back slightly, amused as John struggled to land any hits.
Across the room, Yelena stepped quietly to your side, voice low. "Barnes is unusually smug today."
You tilted your head slightly, eyes not leaving the match. "He looks the same to me."
Yelena smirked, eyes narrowing slightly. "He’s glancing over here. A lot."
You shrugged lightly. "Maybe he's worried you’ll interrogate him again."
She huffed quietly, eyes fixed suspiciously on your neutral expression. "Or maybe he's trying to impress someone."
You glanced at her calmly, voice flat. "You think Barnes needs to impress anyone?"
She paused, considering, then sighed irritably. "You’re annoyingly good at not answering."
"Thanks," you replied dryly, returning your attention to the mats as John landed heavily on his back, groaning.
Bucky offered him a hand up, smirking faintly. "You good?"
John rolled his eyes, wincing as he stood. "Peachy."
Alexei laughed loudly, clapping dramatically. "Barnes is champion again! Who wants next?"
Bucky glanced briefly your way, raising an eyebrow in silent challenge. You calmly ignored him, sipping water from a nearby bottle.
"Y/N!" Alexei suddenly called cheerfully. "Come, come! You fight Barnes, yes?"
You sighed softly, setting your bottle aside. "Fine."
Bucky smiled slightly, rolling his shoulders. "Try not to hurt me too bad, doll."
Yelena raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You two seem friendly all of a sudden."
You stepped onto the mats smoothly, circling slowly. "Barely."
"Careful," he teased gently, lunging forward suddenly. You sidestepped effortlessly, eyes coolly amused as you avoided him again.
"You’re slow today," you murmured dryly, watching his careful movements.
He chuckled softly, voice low. "Maybe I’m distracted."
You scoffed quietly, easily dodging his grasp again. "Focus."
He feigned a pout, attempting to catch your wrist. "Maybe you’re my focus."
Across the room, John glanced skeptically at Yelena. "Are they flirting again?"
Yelena sighed deeply. "Probably. Barnes never learns."
You neatly twisted, ducking beneath Bucky’s arm, and landed a precise hit to his ribs. He laughed softly, barely flinching as he circled you again. "You’re enjoying this too much."
"Maybe," you replied evenly, stepping closer, eyes narrowed playfully. "But you clearly like it."
"Very," he admitted shamelessly, voice low enough only you could hear. "But maybe take it easy—I bruise easily."
"Liar," you muttered softly, moving swiftly again, barely missing him as he slipped neatly out of reach.
He grinned faintly, teasing openly now. "Maybe I just like when you play rough."
"Gross," John muttered dryly from the sidelines.
Alexei nodded gravely. "Agreed."
You finally caught Bucky’s wrist smoothly, twisting lightly until he laughed, yielding dramatically. "Fine, fine, you win."
You released him, stepping calmly back, expression neutral. "Again."
He smiled faintly, shaking his head affectionately. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."
Yelena rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically. "You two are exhausting."
Bob tilted his head uncertainly. "Why?"
She shook her head slowly. "Trust me, Bob. Don't worry about it."
You ignored them all, eyes fixed calmly on Bucky as you circled again, the quiet amusement between you both carefully hidden beneath calm, unreadable expressions.
---
A week later, you were quietly pouring yourself coffee when Bob spoke up from the table, his voice uncertain.
"Hey, um... has anyone ever noticed Y/N's room is always spotless?"
John glanced up skeptically. "Why are you even looking at Y/N's room?"
Bob flushed slightly. "I'm not—I just noticed the door's always closed, and... the lights are never on."
Alexei immediately perked up, delighted. "Aha! Suspicious! Perhaps she is vampire. No sleep, no mess."
Yelena rolled her eyes, but her curiosity was clearly piqued. "Bob has a point, though. Have any of you ever actually seen her go into her room?"
The team fell silent, all of them exchanging curious glances. Ava finally shrugged. "Maybe she just likes things clean."
Bob shook his head. "No, like—really clean. Hotel-room clean."
Alexei slammed his hand on the table dramatically, making Bob jump. "Exactly! Vampire. Or spy. Or spy vampire."
Bucky, leaning casually against the counter, swallowed his coffee a little too quickly, coughing quietly.
"You alright, Barnes?" John asked suspiciously.
Bucky nodded, voice rough. "Fine."
Yelena stood suddenly, chair scraping softly against the floor. "I'm checking it out."
"You can't just invade someone's room, Lena," Ava said dryly.
"Watch me," Yelena said easily, already heading down the hall.
Bucky's eyes widened slightly. He glanced quickly toward you, but you merely sipped your coffee calmly, expression utterly neutral.
John watched Yelena go, snorting softly. "She's definitely gonna get herself killed."
Alexei chuckled deeply, clearly entertained. "If vampire Y/N doesn't get her first."
---
Five minutes later, Yelena returned looking oddly disappointed. She dropped back into her chair with a huff, crossing her arms irritably.
"Well?" Alexei demanded eagerly. "Did you find coffin?"
"No coffin," she muttered bitterly. "Just a very boring, very unused bed."
Bob blinked slowly. "Unused?"
"Perfectly made," Yelena confirmed, glaring pointedly at Bucky. "Not a wrinkle. It's like she never sleeps there."
Bucky shrugged lightly, avoiding her stare. "Maybe she just makes the bed."
"Or," John drawled thoughtfully, "she sleeps hanging upside down from the ceiling. Alexei's vampire theory holds up."
Bob furrowed his brow deeply. "Can people actually do that?"
"Bob," Ava sighed gently, "please don’t hurt yourself."
You calmly finished your coffee, setting your mug quietly in the sink. "This is a fascinating discussion."
Yelena turned her sharp gaze directly onto you. "Care to explain your oddly pristine bedroom?"
You raised a single brow calmly, leaning back against the counter. "Not really."
Alexei laughed heartily, slapping the table enthusiastically. "I told you! Vampire!"
Bucky coughed again, barely hiding his smile behind his coffee cup. "Right. Vampire."
Yelena narrowed her eyes suspiciously at you, arms folded. "You realize I’ll figure it out eventually."
"Good luck," you murmured dryly, moving toward the hallway. "Have fun with your theories."
As you disappeared down the hall, Alexei beamed cheerfully, gesturing toward Bucky. "Barnes! You watch your back tonight. Our scary friend might come for your neck!"
Bucky snorted quietly, setting his mug down. "Pretty sure I can handle her."
"Good luck," Ava muttered, eyes amused. "If anyone's a vampire, it's her."
Bucky smiled faintly, following you down the hall calmly, ignoring the curious, skeptical gazes burning into his back.
---
It was past midnight when a sharp knock jolted Bucky awake. He sat up abruptly, eyes immediately darting to you beside him. You were still fast asleep, breathing steady, face relaxed into the pillow.
Another sharp knock came, followed by Yelena’s irritated voice. "Y/N. You awake?"
Bucky muttered a curse under his breath, gently sliding from beneath the covers, careful not to wake you. He pulled on a shirt quickly, quietly stepping into the hallway and closing the bedroom door behind him before Yelena knocked again.
"What the hell, Lena?" he whispered harshly.
Yelena raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Barnes. What are you doing here?"
He gestured vaguely down the hall, trying to look casual. "I was—getting water. What's your excuse?"
She narrowed her eyes skeptically. "I needed Y/N."
"At midnight?" he hissed.
She shrugged unapologetically. "Couldn't sleep. Thought she might be up. Her lights are always off anyway."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing softly. "She’s not in there."
Yelena folded her arms, suspicion spiking immediately. "And how would you know?"
He paused, scrambling for a believable lie. "I saw her leave earlier. Said something about going for a run."
"A run," Yelena echoed flatly. "At midnight."
"Yeah," Bucky muttered, attempting to sound confident. "She does that sometimes."
Yelena stared at him, completely unconvinced. "Really."
"Really," Bucky said firmly, meeting her gaze evenly.
She eyed him carefully, suspicion heavy in her stare. "You’re acting weird, Barnes."
He forced a casual shrug. "You're knocking on people’s doors at midnight. Who's weird?"
Yelena narrowed her eyes further, voice dry. "I’m watching you."
"Great," he muttered sarcastically, stepping past her toward the kitchen. "Have fun with that."
She remained standing by your unused door, eyes tracking him as he moved down the hallway. Eventually, she shook her head, irritation clear, and turned back toward her own room. "Ridiculous," she mumbled softly. "Everyone in this place is losing their minds."
Once the hallway was finally quiet again, Bucky returned quickly to his room, slipping silently inside. He exhaled slowly, relieved, as he quietly shut the door behind him. He turned back toward the bed—and found you wide awake, watching him with a faint, amused expression.
"Enjoy your midnight chat?" you asked dryly.
He sighed heavily, climbing back into bed beside you. "Your friend is getting suspicious."
You rolled your eyes slightly, shifting closer to him again. "She’s your friend."
"Not tonight," he muttered, tugging you gently into his arms. "Tonight she’s a nuisance."
You hummed softly, settling comfortably against his chest. "You handled it?"
"For now," he admitted reluctantly. "Barely."
You smirked faintly, tilting your head up slightly to kiss his jaw. "Good."
Bucky tightened his hold around your waist, dropping a soft kiss onto your forehead. "Next time she knocks, you're answering."
"No," you murmured firmly, eyes already drifting closed again. "You're better at lying."
He chuckled softly, voice warm. "Fair enough."
You settled into silence again, listening to his heartbeat slowly ease back into a calm rhythm. After a moment, you murmured softly, "You're still awake."
He sighed, voice dry with mild irritation. "Yeah. Someone knocking at midnight does that."
You smiled faintly, turning your head gently into his shoulder. "You'll live."
"Maybe," he teased quietly, fingers trailing softly along your spine. "If your friend doesn't kill me first."
"Sleep, Barnes," you murmured flatly.
He chuckled softly, finally relaxing fully into the mattress, eyes slowly closing. "Yes, ma'am."
---
Two days later, you were leaning against the kitchen counter, quietly observing as Ava scrolled through her phone, Yelena perched eagerly next to her.
“No,” Ava muttered. “Not her. Too cheerful.”
John peered over her shoulder skeptically. “Cheerful’s good. Maybe it’ll rub off on him.”
“What are you idiots doing?” Bucky asked warily, pouring himself coffee and shooting a confused glance in their direction.
Ava looked up casually, voice deadpan. “Finding you a date.”
Bucky nearly choked on his coffee. “A what?”
Alexei nodded enthusiastically, grinning. “Yes! Barnes, you mope too much. Need romantic distraction.”
Bucky raised a skeptical brow. “I’m fine.”
“You’re absolutely not fine,” Yelena countered, voice dry. “You need help.”
You remained perfectly silent, casually sipping your own coffee, your expression blank as Bucky shot you a subtle, desperate glance.
“Ah!” Ava suddenly exclaimed triumphantly. “Got it. My friend’s a barista. Cute, funny, tolerates annoying customers. She’s perfect.”
“Perfect!” Alexei echoed loudly, slapping the table with excitement.
Bucky looked increasingly uncomfortable. “Really not necessary.”
Ava ignored him, already texting rapidly. “Too late. It’s done.”
“Fantastic,” Bucky muttered flatly, stealing another quick, pleading glance toward you. You met his gaze evenly, taking another calm sip of coffee. “You could at least pretend to help,” he murmured irritably, just loud enough for you to hear.
You raised a single eyebrow, voice flat. “Looks like you’ve got it covered.”
Ava looked up again, smiling smugly. “Tomorrow night, seven sharp.”
Bucky sighed heavily, clearly defeated. “Great.”
---
Later that evening, Bucky leaned against the bedroom doorway, watching you quietly as you calmly flipped through a book. His arms were crossed over his chest, an amused, questioning expression on his face.
“You jealous, sweetheart?” he finally teased softly.
You didn’t look up from your page, voice utterly flat. “Of watching you struggle to make small talk? No.”
He laughed softly, pushing away from the doorway to step toward you, gently tugging the book from your hands. “So you don’t care if I go?”
Your eyes narrowed slightly, voice deceptively casual. “You’re allowed to have friends.”
He smirked faintly, leaning closer until his lips brushed your jaw. “It’s a date, doll. Not a friend.”
You turned slightly, raising a challenging eyebrow. “You’re awfully smug for someone sleeping alone tonight.”
He chuckled softly, gently gripping your chin, tilting your face to his. “You’re awfully possessive for someone who ‘doesn’t care.’”
You sighed deeply, voice low and even. “Barnes.”
“Yes, sweetheart?” he murmured teasingly, lips brushing yours softly.
“Go on your stupid date,” you muttered flatly, pulling back slightly. “Smile at her once and I’ll murder you.”
He laughed warmly, clearly delighted. “Understood.”
You took your book back from his hand calmly, settling against the pillows again. “Glad we’re clear.”
Bucky shook his head fondly, climbing onto the bed beside you, settling comfortably close. “You know, if you don’t want me to go, you could just say so.”
You turned the page calmly, eyes on the text again. “Go.”
“Right,” he teased softly, lips brushing your shoulder. “But no smiling.”
“No smiling,” you confirmed flatly, finally glancing toward him, a faint, hidden smile tugging at your lips. “At least not nicely.”
He chuckled again, relaxing fully beside you. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re needy,” you murmured calmly, gently resting your head against his shoulder.
“Only with you,” he reminded you softly, pressing a tender kiss against your temple.
“Good,” you muttered dryly. “Keep it that way.”
---
You walked into the bedroom as Bucky left the bathroom, freshly showered getting ready for his date. “I changed my mind,” you said firmly, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed.
Bucky turned to face you, a slow, cocky smirk spreading across his lips. “Oh?”
“Don’t get smug, Barnes.”
He held his hands up innocently. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking it,” you shot back, eyes narrowed slightly.
He stepped closer, clearly enjoying this. “So you don’t want me to go now?”
“No,” you admitted bluntly, jaw tight.
“Is this you being jealous again?” he teased lightly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you.
“No,” you repeated flatly. “This is me deciding I don’t feel like hiding your body.”
He laughed quietly, eyes bright. “Sweetheart, it’s just dinner.”
“With another woman.”
“A dinner you approved,” he reminded you playfully.
“I changed my mind,” you said again, voice colder this time. “Cancel it.”
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing playfully. “What if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll stab you,” you said, deadpan. “And that’ll solve the problem anyway.”
He laughed softly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your temple. “God, you’re hot when you’re threatening my life.”
You rolled your eyes, pushing gently against his chest. “Shut up, Barnes. Cancel the date.”
He chuckled again, pulling his phone from his pocket without hesitation, typing quickly. “Fine, fine. It’s canceled.”
“Good.”
“Happy now?” he teased softly.
“Ecstatic,” you muttered sarcastically, turning away and heading toward the bathroom. You paused at the doorway, glancing back briefly. “And wipe that smug look off your face, Barnes.”
Ten minutes later, Bucky wandered casually into the common room, dropping onto the couch beside John. Yelena glanced up from her phone immediately, brows raised. “Shouldn’t you be gone already?” she asked suspiciously.
Bucky shrugged casually, grabbing the remote. “Canceled.”
John snorted. “Got stood up already?”
“Something like that,” Bucky replied mildly.
Alexei shook his head dramatically. “Barnes, terrible luck with romance. Maybe you should become monk.”
“Thanks for the suggestion,” Bucky muttered dryly. “I’ll think about it.”
Ava raised an eyebrow skeptically. “She canceled or you?”
“It was mutual,” Bucky lied smoothly, flipping through the channels casually.
Across the room, Bob glanced uncertainly toward your closed bedroom door. “Where’s Y/N?”
Bucky didn’t look up. “No idea.”
Yelena narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Bucky, clearly unconvinced. “Very convenient timing.”
He met her gaze evenly, unbothered. “Just lucky, I guess.”
Alexei laughed heartily. “Yes, very lucky! Lucky you get rejected!”
“Right,” Bucky sighed flatly. “Thanks.”
John elbowed him lightly. “Want me to text Ava’s friend for you? Try again?”
Bucky rolled his eyes, ignoring their pointed stares. “Whatever you say.”
Across the room, Bob glanced around again uncertainly. “But really, has anyone seen Y/N?”
“She’s probably plotting someone’s murder,” John replied calmly.
Alexei chuckled heartily, nodding. “Likely.”
Bucky fought a faint smile, eyes staying carefully fixed on the screen. “Sounds about right.”
---
The common area was unusually quiet as the team lounged about lazily. Alexei was mindlessly flipping channels, Ava texting on her phone, and Yelena and John bickering quietly over breakfast.
Bob glanced up first, brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "Hey, uh... is Bucky wearing green?"
Yelena's head whipped around immediately, eyes widening dramatically as Bucky entered the kitchen, completely unbothered, in a dark green Henley and grey sweats.
"Whoa," John muttered, mid-bite, clearly shocked. "Did someone die?"
Ava raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Barnes, did you hit your head?"
"Your clothes," Alexei said gravely, as though discussing a great tragedy. "They have color."
Bucky looked down casually, shrugging. "It's just green."
"Exactly," Yelena agreed, nodding sharply. "That's the point. You don't wear green."
"I can wear green," Bucky replied dryly. "There's no rule against green."
John shook his head, feigning seriousness. "Yeah, but you're usually like... Batman."
"Batman?" Bucky echoed flatly, brows rising.
"All black, all brooding," John clarified. "It's your vibe."
Alexei clapped loudly, enthusiastically agreeing. "Yes! Like angry shadow! Very broody!"
Bucky rolled his eyes, clearly amused, but said nothing.
"Maybe he's finally cracking," Ava teased lightly, still focused on her phone.
"Maybe," Yelena muttered suspiciously, eyes narrowed as she watched him carefully. "Or someone's influencing him."
"Conspiracy theory, Lena?" Bucky asked mildly, sipping his coffee.
"Yes," she said immediately, completely serious. "I suspect foul play."
Bob tilted his head thoughtfully. "But he looks good."
Bucky pointed at him appreciatively. "Thank you, Bob."
Bob smiled shyly, clearly pleased with himself. "You're welcome."
The conversation continued, dissolving into pointless bickering. You chose that exact moment to enter quietly, moving casually toward the coffee machine. As you passed behind Bucky, you swiftly and casually slapped his ass, hiding your smirk as he jolted slightly.
His eyes immediately shot to yours, wide and startled.
"Nice color, Barnes," you murmured evenly, calmly grabbing a coffee mug. You moved away without another glance, expression utterly neutral, even as his cheeks reddened faintly. Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly, quickly turning back to his coffee.
"Barnes?" Yelena asked sharply, catching the awkward shift. "You good?"
"Fine," he muttered quickly, eyes fixed pointedly on his mug.
John narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Something's up."
"Nothing's up," Bucky replied a little too quickly, clearing his throat again.
Ava sighed deeply. "Oh, please don't start another conspiracy theory."
You smirked faintly behind your mug, eyes briefly meeting Bucky's again from across the room. He shot you a small, playful glare, barely suppressing his smile.
Bucky huffed quietly, sipping his coffee and trying to look unbothered. "It's literally just a shirt, Lena."
You moved quietly toward the exit, tossing a casual comment over your shoulder. "I think it's his color." The entire room fell silent as you disappeared down the hall, all eyes immediately flicking back to Bucky.
John raised an eyebrow slowly. "Did she just give you a compliment?"
Bucky shrugged lightly, fighting a smirk as he avoided everyone's suspicious gaze. "Guess so."
"She definitely did," Ava confirmed flatly, clearly amused.
Alexei chuckled knowingly, slapping the table enthusiastically. "Ah-ha! Progress!"
Yelena narrowed her eyes suspiciously, leaning back in her chair thoughtfully. "I still don't trust it."
"You trust nothing," John pointed out dryly.
"True," she conceded evenly. "But especially not Barnes and Y/N."
Bucky shook his head, sighing dramatically as he headed for the elevator. "You're all ridiculous."
Bob looked around uncertainly. "But he does look good in green."
"Yes, Bob," Yelena sighed heavily. "That's the problem."
---
You walked quietly into the training room, finding the team spread out, already deep into their routines. John was spotting Bob at the bench press, Ava stretched by the punching bags, and Alexei lounged against the wall, offering unhelpful commentary. You silently moved toward the mats, your necklace catching briefly in the overhead lights.
Yelena immediately paused mid-stretch, staring openly. "You're wearing a necklace."
"So?" you replied evenly, stretching casually.
"So," Yelena echoed slowly, suspiciously. "You don't usually wear accessories."
You raised an eyebrow calmly. "You're paying attention to my jewelry habits now?"
"Someone has to," she muttered flatly. "Something's definitely up."
Across the room, Bucky entered casually, eyes briefly locking onto the necklace, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He hid it quickly, grabbing a water bottle instead.
"You don't care?" Yelena asked skeptically, eyeing him suspiciously. "You’re usually pretty invested.”
"That’s you," he reminded her dryly, calmly taking a sip of water. "I'm fine with it."
"Hmm," she murmured, clearly unconvinced.
You ignored them all, beginning your warm-up calmly, your necklace gleaming softly beneath the lights.
Bob watched curiously, his voice quiet. "Maybe it's important to her."
Alexei chuckled loudly. "Important like secret admirer!"
You exhaled slowly, voice flat. "Maybe it is."
The room fell immediately quiet. Yelena's eyes narrowed sharply, suspicion spiking. "Did you just admit you have a secret admirer?"
You didn't reply, calmly continuing your stretches. Bucky turned his back quickly, clearly trying to hide his faint smirk behind his water bottle.
John shook his head slowly. "There's no way."
Alexei clapped loudly. "There is way! Romance in the tower, very exciting!"
Ava sighed deeply, clearly bored. "Not everything's a conspiracy."
"This definitely is," Yelena muttered darkly, still glaring pointedly at you.
"Leave her alone," Bucky said lightly, stepping calmly onto the mats. "If she wants to keep secrets, let her."
Yelena raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You're suspiciously supportive."
"I'm supportive of privacy," Bucky replied evenly. "Especially when it means fewer interrogations from you."
You stepped forward, tilting your head slightly, eyes coolly amused. "Barnes. Are we talking or training?"
He smirked faintly, eyes glinting with amusement as he dropped into a defensive stance. "Training."
"Good," you murmured flatly, moving fluidly toward him. "Less talking."
"She really scares me," John muttered from the side, watching warily.
Alexei laughed heartily, delighted. "Yes, very terrifying! Especially with jewelry."
You ignored them, focused solely on Bucky as you sparred, both of you carefully hiding your faint smiles each time you moved closer, your necklace gleaming softly between you.
“I swear to God, Barnes. If you grope me, I’ll kill you.”
Bucky chuckled quietly, moving around you smoothly on the mats. “You’re wearing my favorite. Can’t blame a guy for being distracted.”
“You can,” you countered flatly, dodging easily as he reached for your wrist again. “Focus.”
His gaze dropped briefly to your necklace, lips quirking slightly. “And my necklace? You’re spoiling me.”
You sighed softly, carefully shifting your weight to block his next move. “You’re hopeless.”
“Only for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice teasingly warm. His eyes glinted playfully. “How’d you sleep last night?”
“Barnes,” you muttered quietly, tone sharp. “We’re training.”
He smirked faintly, leaning in closer as he passed you again. “You weren’t complaining when you were hogging the sheets.”
Your eyes narrowed, voice dropping lower. “I’ll smother you with those sheets.”
“Promises, promises,” he teased lightly, moving smoothly behind you again. “Maybe later.”
Across the room, Yelena watched suspiciously, eyes narrowed. “Are they arguing again?”
“Probably,” Ava muttered absently, eyes still on her phone.
John shook his head slowly. “It looks kinda… intense.”
Alexei shrugged cheerfully. “They always intense. Like dramatic spy movie.”
Back on the mats, Bucky’s gaze flicked appreciatively again to your bralette, a faint, smug smile appearing. “Seriously, doll, it’s distracting.”
“Good,” you said flatly, quickly twisting your wrist from his grasp. “Means you’ll lose faster.”
He laughed softly, circling you again, eyes playful. “Harsh.”
“True.”
He lunged suddenly, grabbing your waist firmly, pulling you flush against him. You froze briefly, eyes narrowing dangerously.
“Barnes,” you growled softly, warning clear. “What did I say?”
He smiled innocently, leaning closer. “I forgot.”
“I’ll remind you later,” you muttered darkly, elbowing him swiftly in the ribs and stepping neatly away.
He winced, laughing quietly, voice low. “Worth it.”
“Gross,” John muttered, shaking his head. “They’re definitely flirting.”
Ava rolled her eyes slightly. “And yet she hasn’t killed him.”
Yelena sighed deeply, irritated. “Yet.”
Bob looked uncertainly toward the mats. “But they fight all the time.”
Alexei chuckled heartily. “Exactly! This called sexual tension, Bob. Very intense.”
You finally stepped back, exhaling slowly, eyes calmly meeting Bucky’s amused gaze. “You’re lucky we have an audience.”
He smiled warmly, eyes softening just for a moment. “I know.”
“Good,” you murmured evenly, stepping smoothly off the mats. “Keep that in mind tonight when you’re begging for mercy.”
Bucky grinned widely, completely unfazed, following casually behind you. “Looking forward to it, sweetheart.”
Yelena glared suspiciously as the two of you passed. “You two have fun?”
You shot her a bland look. “Define fun.”
“Did Barnes survive?”
“For now,” you said flatly, not breaking stride.
Bucky chuckled quietly, nudging you gently. “She’s secretly soft on me.”
“Delusional,” you corrected dryly.
“Right,” Yelena muttered skeptically as you both disappeared down the hall. “Definitely flirting.”
---
“Is that a skirt?” Yelena asked, as you walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
You raised the skirt to reveal the shorts connected underneath. "It's a skort."
Yelena raised her eyebrows, nodding thoughtfully. "Cute."
"Didn't ask," you replied flatly, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
Behind you, John snorted quietly. "Friendly as always."
"Careful," Ava murmured absently. "She might actually kill you this time."
You ignored them, leaning against the counter casually as Bucky stepped quietly into the kitchen, eyes quickly flicking to your skort. He paused briefly, lips curving into a small, smug smile. "Nice outfit," he teased lightly.
You tilted your head calmly, voice utterly neutral. "It was a gift."
Yelena's head whipped toward you suspiciously. "From who?"
You took a sip of water, expression unreadable. "A friend."
"Friend?" John echoed skeptically. "You don't have friends."
"True," Alexei agreed cheerfully. "Scary friend has no friends, only victims."
Bucky chuckled softly, stepping past you and casually leaning in to grab a coffee mug. "Maybe she made an exception."
You glanced sideways at him, voice low. "Don't push it, Barnes."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured softly, barely audible.
Bob furrowed his brow slightly. "Why does Bucky always tease Y/N?"
"Because he has a death wish," Ava replied absently.
"Or," Yelena mused suspiciously, eyes narrowed at you both, "he likes living dangerously."
"Definitely dangerous," Alexei nodded seriously. "Y/N will kill Barnes soon."
"Looking forward to it," you muttered dryly, pushing off from the counter and heading toward the hall. You barely managed two steps before you felt Bucky subtly slide his hand under the skirt, squeezing your ass firmly, hidden perfectly from the team's view.
You shot him a sharp, dangerous glare over your shoulder, voice cold and low. "Barnes."
He grinned smugly, completely unbothered. "Careful, sweetheart."
You huffed irritably, storming away without another word, hearing the team snicker quietly behind you.
"What was that?" Yelena immediately demanded suspiciously.
Bucky shrugged casually, pouring coffee calmly. "No idea."
"She looked pissed," John noted dryly.
"When doesn't she?" Ava muttered flatly.
Alexei laughed cheerfully, shaking his head. "Barnes, one day she'll kill you. Very messy."
Bucky smiled faintly, eyes glinting. "Probably."
Bob tilted his head thoughtfully. "Maybe you should apologize?"
"I'm good," Bucky said lightly, sipping his coffee, smirk still firmly in place.
Yelena sighed dramatically, clearly irritated. "You two are exhausting."
---
Bucky stepped quietly into the bedroom a short while later, closing the door behind him softly. You immediately shot him a sharp look from your spot on the bed, book in hand.
"You're lucky I didn't stab you," you muttered flatly.
He chuckled softly, moving toward you calmly, eyes warm and amused. "Worth the risk."
"Barnes," you warned quietly, gaze narrowed.
He grinned playfully, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "You slapped my ass in front of everyone. Payback was fair."
You scoffed softly, reluctantly relaxing slightly as he settled comfortably beside you. "Barely."
He nudged your shoulder gently, voice teasingly soft. "Admit it. You liked it."
"Keep dreaming," you murmured dryly, turning the page calmly.
Bucky chuckled again, gently pulling your book down to catch your eyes. "Love you too, sweetheart."
"Gross," you muttered quietly, but your voice softened, and your lips twitched faintly.
He smiled warmly, leaning closer to brush his lips against your jawline. "Thanks for wearing the skort."
"You bought it," you reminded him evenly, though your voice lacked its usual edge.
"And it looks perfect," he murmured softly, lips tracing gently along your neck. "Especially on you."
"Bucky," you sighed, eyes falling shut briefly. "Stop."
"You sure?" he teased softly, breath warm against your skin.
You exhaled slowly, head tilting slightly to grant him better access. "No."
He smiled against your skin, fingers sliding gently beneath the hem of the skort again, voice teasing and affectionate. "Didn't think so."
---
The comms crackled softly in your ear as you moved silently through the tree line, keeping low, eyes trained on the compound just up ahead. You and Ava were positioned to sweep the south perimeter while the others flanked the north and secured the intel inside.
"East clear," Yelena’s voice came through. "No movement."
"North entrance is covered," John added. "Alexei’s being loud as usual."
"Strategic loud," Alexei corrected proudly.
“South perimeter’s clear,” Ava said, glancing briefly toward you. “Y/N, you good?”
You gave a silent nod, pressing your back against the stone wall as you signaled for her to hold position. Then the line crackled again—Bucky’s voice came through, strained but still steady. “Contact in the west corridor. I’m good—just grazed.”
There was a pause. Then: “repeat, Barnes is hit,” John confirmed. “Not bad. Just a graze on his side.”
You were already moving. You didn’t say anything—not to Ava, not to the comms. You just moved.
Through the trees, across the clearing, slipping like a shadow through the half-ruined side entrance. You moved fast, but quiet, eyes scanning rapidly for any sign of him.
Behind you, Ava’s voice came faintly through the earpiece. “...Y/N? Where the hell— Y/N, you were supposed to hold south!”
"She’s gone," Yelena muttered over comms. "Of course she’s gone."
Alexei chuckled into the line. "Perhaps vampire instincts. She senses blood."
You ignored them all.
The compound’s west wing was dim and empty, light filtering in through broken windows and high beams. You rounded a corner and spotted him almost immediately—leaning heavily against the wall, one hand pressed to his side, blood staining the fabric of his black combat shirt.
His head snapped up when he saw you. “What are you—?” You crossed the space in seconds, grabbing his wrist and yanking it away to inspect the wound. “It’s fine,” he started.
You pulled a cloth from your pocket, pressing it against the wound firmly, your movements efficient and practiced. “You didn’t call it in yourself.”
He raised an eyebrow, breath shallow. “Because it’s not a big deal.”
"Wrong," you said flatly, pulling out a small field med kit.
He chuckled quietly, grimacing slightly as you cleaned the wound. “You ditched your post for me, sweetheart?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
His eyes softened slightly, voice dropping. “You worried?” You didn’t answer, just wrapped the bandage tight and clean, your jaw tense. He tilted his head slightly, voice lower now, just for you. “You know you’re supposed to act normal in front of the others, not go rogue.”
“You got hit,” you muttered, standing and pulling him up carefully. “Don’t care what anyone else thinks.”
He smirked, even as he winced. “That’s my girl.”
"Shut up, Barnes," you muttered, hooking an arm under his. "You’re limping."
He leaned into you slightly, lips brushing your ear. “You know I like it when you go feral for me.”
“Keep talking and I’ll reopen the wound.”
He grinned, despite the pain. “Totally worth it.”
“Let’s go,” you muttered, guiding him back toward the rendezvous point. “Before someone sees.”
Bucky smirked. “Married life suits you.”
“Don’t push it, Barnes.”
He smiled wider. “Love you too.”
---
Back at the Watchtower, the common area was thick with tension. John paced irritably, gesturing wildly as the rest of the team lounged around the room, silently watching the spectacle unfold. "You can't just leave your position, Y/N," John snapped, frustration clear. "You compromised the whole operation!"
You stood silently, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, your gaze coldly indifferent.
Ava sighed softly. "Walker, it wasn't that serious—"
"It was reckless," John interrupted sharply. "She ran off like some amateur because Barnes got a scratch!"
Alexei chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe scratch was deeper than we think."
Yelena's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Still weird for her to lose control like that."
You stayed quiet, expression unchanging.
"Seriously, Y/N," John pressed irritably. "I know you're protective of Barnes for some weird reason, but you can't put the rest of us in danger."
Bucky shifted slightly, opening his mouth to say something, but you shot him a brief, silent look—he shut it again immediately.
Bob blinked, genuinely confused. "Wait, what happened?"
"Y/N ran off," Ava clarified dryly. "Apparently, Barnes got grazed, and she just abandoned everything."
Bob's brow furrowed deeper. "Is that... bad?"
"Yes, Bob," John said flatly. "It's very bad."
Alexei grinned, nudging Bob cheerfully. "Perhaps vampire protective of favorite victim."
Bob's eyes widened uncertainly. "Barnes is a victim?"
Yelena sighed deeply. "Focus, Bob."
"Look," John snapped, turning back toward you again, clearly determined. "All I'm saying is—"
You finally moved—quickly, fluidly—crossing the space between you and Bucky before anyone could even register what was happening. You grabbed a fistful of Bucky’s shirt, yanking him roughly forward. His eyes widened briefly in surprise—then quickly darkened in amusement as your lips crashed firmly onto his.
The room fell utterly silent.
Bucky didn't hesitate, melting immediately into the kiss, his metal hand gently gripping your waist. He smiled faintly against your lips, clearly pleased.
When you finally pulled back, you released him casually, stepping back to your previous spot against the wall. Your expression was cool and completely neutral as your eyes calmly flicked over the stunned faces of the entire team.
"Shit," Alexei finally breathed, breaking the silence. "Did not see that coming."
John just stared, speechless.
Yelena blinked, then slowly nodded. "Okay. That explains... a lot."
Bob smiled faintly, clearly pleased. "That's nice."
Ava raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely impressed. "Well, that’s one way to shut everyone up."
You said nothing, arms crossing again as you leaned back against the wall, expression perfectly indifferent.
Bucky cleared his throat softly, lips curving into a smug grin as he glanced around the room. "Any other questions?"
John opened his mouth—then closed it again, shaking his head. "Nope."
Yelena sighed dramatically. "Finally. About damn time."
Bob glanced around uncertainly. "So... they're dating?"
You sighed quietly, eyes narrowing slightly. "We're married, actually."
Another stunned silence filled the room. Bucky smiled brightly, clearly amused by everyone's shocked expressions. "Surprise."
John rubbed his face tiredly. "You've got to be kidding me."
Alexei beamed proudly. "Knew it. Romance always wins."
Yelena glared pointedly at Bucky. "Barnes. You realize you could've told us earlier, right?"
Bucky shrugged casually, eyes sparkling. "Where's the fun in that?"
You rolled your eyes faintly, settling comfortably next to him, arms still crossed.
Bob smiled again, more warmly this time. "Congratulations."
"Thank you, Bob," Bucky replied cheerfully, sliding an arm comfortably around your waist. "At least someone here is supportive."
Ava raised an eyebrow skeptically. "How long exactly?"
You sighed quietly, voice flat. "Long enough."
John shook his head again, clearly irritated. "You're both impossible."
Bucky laughed softly, pulling you a bit closer. "And you’re welcome."
Alexei clapped enthusiastically. "Tonight, we celebrate! For secret marriage and vampire love story!"
"Please don't," you muttered dryly.
Bucky chuckled warmly, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "Too late, doll." You shot him a warning glance, but your lips twitched faintly into a hidden smile.
The team was quiet again, watching you both thoughtfully. Finally, Yelena spoke again, voice resigned. "Well," she sighed dramatically, glancing at John. "Guess we were wrong."
"Painfully wrong," John muttered irritably.
You raised an eyebrow pointedly. "Satisfied now?"
John sighed heavily, eyes rolling upward. "Fine. You win."
You relaxed slightly against Bucky’s side, voice calm. "Good."
Bucky leaned in slightly, lips brushing your ear gently. "That was hot."
You glared sideways at him, voice low. "Behave."
"Yes, ma'am," he murmured softly, grinning widely.
Across the room, Alexei chuckled again, clearly delighted. "I told you all. Always romance. Very predictable."
Ava shook her head slowly, smiling faintly. "Congratulations, I guess."
Yelena narrowed her eyes at you again, voice dry. "You realize we’ll still tease you mercilessly, right?"
John crossed his arms, staring pointedly at you as he sat down on the chair. “You’re both very annoying.”
You shrugged slightly, unbothered. “And?”
He rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. “Just don’t do anything disgusting in the common areas.”
You stared at him, eyes blinking slowly before you pushed yourself off the wall. “Might not want to sit on that chair then.”
John’s eyes widened dramatically as he immediately stood up, practically leaping from the chair. "Oh, come on!"
Yelena snorted, looking both amused and disgusted. "Please tell me that’s a joke."
You shrugged calmly, expression entirely unreadable. "Believe whatever you want."
Bucky’s lips twitched slightly into a smirk. "She warned you."
Alexei chuckled loudly, clearly delighted. "I told you all—secret romance always most exciting."
Bob glanced uncertainly toward John, clearly confused. "Is the chair dangerous now?"
John shuddered slightly. "You really don’t wanna know, Bob."
Ava shook her head slowly, muttering quietly. "I regret everything."
You turned toward the hall, clearly done with the conversation. "I’m going to my room."
Yelena’s voice called after you suspiciously. "Which room is yours exactly, Y/N?"
You paused briefly, glancing over your shoulder calmly. "The one I sleep in."
John crossed his arms irritably. "So, Barnes’ room."
Bucky smiled brightly, clearly amused. "My door is always open."
"Gross," Yelena muttered flatly.
Alexei laughed loudly, utterly entertained. "Barnes, I like your style."
Bucky gave an exaggerated bow, playful smirk firmly in place. "Appreciate it, Alexei."
You sighed quietly, clearly irritated. "Barnes. Let’s go."
He followed immediately, falling easily into step beside you. As you both disappeared down the hallway, Yelena’s voice carried after you. "You’re welcome for finally outing you, by the way!"
Bucky chuckled quietly, glancing toward you affectionately. "That went well."
"Shut up," you muttered dryly.
"You’re cute when you’re annoyed."
You stopped briefly, leveling him with a cool stare. "You realize I could still stab you?"
Bucky smiled fondly, completely unbothered. "You wouldn’t. You like me too much."
You sighed softly, reluctantly relaxing. "Unfortunately."
He grinned widely, gently nudging you forward again. "Come on, doll. Your room awaits."
"Our room," you corrected flatly.
"Right," he said warmly, clearly pleased. "Our room."
Behind you, the distant sound of Alexei loudly celebrating echoed down the hall.
just a little thing to say: i wrote bob with the intention of him actually knowing they were married, and all the questions he was asking was him trying to get the team to also question bucky and reader's relationship.
imagine he gets hard again but for the first time he doesn’t hide it. So she notices it and ask him about it. He wants and needs her touch so he acts like he is hurt and needs a special massage.
Ofc she wants to help him and he teaches her how to give a hand job (make it seem like a massage) 🥵
Title: A little help
Dark!Best friend!Ransom Drysdale x naive!innocent!reader
18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI
WARNING - The following fic contains: Explicit smut/DUB-CON, power imbalance, abuse of innocence, childhood best friends AU, manipulation, soft!dark!Ransom, possessive/obsessive!Ransom, mentions of virginity, virginity kink, oral sex (M receiving), dirty talk, dirty thoughts, slight degradation, praising, use of petname (missy, darling), Ransom is a pervert.
Summary: Ransom decides to use his best friend’s naivety and innocence when he can’t hold himself back from desiring her anymore.
3rd person POV
For the longest time Ransom can remember, he has always had a major crush on his childhood best friend, - Y/N L/N. He had managed to suppress it for the longest time, - through primary school, middle school, high school and currently college - the last being the brink of breaking his resolution.
His heart couldn’t take it anymore witnessing his darling gaining more male attention as years went by. She would be approached by guys sometimes here and there, but Ransom always successfully managed to scare them away with his death glare alone. He had loved her since before she flourished into the beautiful lady she had become, and he didn’t think anyone would ever deserve loving only a piece of something that goes beyond her as a person.
He is the only one to know her to the fullest, he had told himself. He was there from when they were kids, playing house in the backyard, to when they finally graduated high school and he took her first kiss accidentally while they were drunk in his newly bought beemer, - his graduation present.
He wasn’t drunk though.
They had shared sweet moments that could never compare to anything she could possibly share with another potential partner, and that was why he had decided he would try winning her heart beyond their hard bonded friendship. To try breaking their friendship in a way that works in both favors.
He wants her feel those tingles whenever she saw him instead of the usual pure excitement. He wants her to want him as much as he wants her.
One time on a nice Friday evening when she was at his apartment for a movie night, he decided to walk around with his sweater off, - his excuse being that he was feeling ‘too hot’. No knowledge to her, it was all about teasing and attracting her to him.
He wanted to know if his body could awake subtle reactions from her, and to his delight it did. In the corner of Ransom’s eye, while he settled down on the couch beside her again, he could see her widened eyes wandering, with her thighs subconsciously rubbing against each other. He smirked, pretending he was finding something amusing on the TV screen, but in his head he had confirmed something.
She is sexually attracted to me.
I have a chance.
After a brief silence between the two, he had wanted to break it, but Y/N beat him to it.
“Ransom…” she murmured his name, audibly enough to catch his attention, though it had never left her anyway. He turned his head, curious to hear what she had to say.
Her eyes wandered a bit once more with furrowed eyebrows, as if she was dealing with conflicting thoughts or trying to find the right words.
“I just realized…you’ve grown to be a very pretty man, you know that right?”
Ransom was left with his lips parted, surprised to be hearing that of all the things she could have said.
But actually no. He wasn’t too surprised, - far from it the more he rethought it.
Because she was not like any other girl he had hooked up with previously when he had tried to suppress his feelings for his best friend. She was not like the ones who would call him smoking hot and sexy whenever he stripped in front of them and was ready to have them make his dick wet.
No, she was far too pure for that.
‘Pretty man’, - so innocent and simple. That was enough for him to know he had to make her become his. He had always fantasized about it, but now it was a matter of making it a reality.
The thought of letting her go to someone else - to have someone else take her innocence to their self pleasure made him see red. Ransom could not allow that. He could never bear it.
Ransom thanked her for the compliment and excused himself after as he felt he was growing hard, his large bulge becoming visible through his pants. He had to wank one off in the bathroom as he had his thoughts surrounded of her. Imagining his cock between those plump lips of hers was enough to make him cum so quickly.
“Fuck, Y/N…my darling….” he muttered her name, adding her petname through a moan as he was cumming and wasting his load into the toilet water.
Ransom had to reassure himself that one day he would not waste it, - that it would instead be all for her to drink and be stuffed full of. He was looking forward to when that time would come.
Time passed by quickly and it was another Friday movie night, this time at hers.
Her place of which if anything were to go wrong, she would have nowhere to go.
They were getting into one of Y/N’s favorites, - ‘Titanic’. Ransom decided he would put his perverted plan of the night in action again halfway through the movie, though this one was beyond simply exposing his chest.
Ransom made himself think of the dirtiest things, - how it would be to have a taste of her with her thighs spread wide open as he ravaged her. How it would be to slip his fingers into her cute, slippery wet cunt as he witnessed her face fall apart from pleasure. How it would be if she put his hands on him, - oh, how he was craving her touch so bad.
His grin turned wicked when he felt himself growing hard under his pants. He spread his legs wider, practically displaying his boner as he pulled an uncomfortable frown and groaned. His knee bumped into Y/N’s, which was when she looked down unbothered only to notice his massive tent, almost poking out through his trousers.
Her eyes widened with surprise, leaving her speechless when Ransom had caught her looking. “Uh, Ransom…you’re…um…”
Ransom’s eyes trailed down to where Y/N was firmly staring at and shrugged casually, “Oh yeah, it’s been bugging me all day. Been hard and it fucking hurts…”
“Hurts?” She asked, her tone of worry now, and Ransom swore he could have busted a nut with how her doe eyes were staring at him with her lips parted.
“Yeah, darling…it hurts cause my dick’s hard as a rock and I’m not able to relieve myself…it strains me and because of that I’m in pain.” Ransom almost whined, his eyebrows knitted as if sharing this piece of experience was painful in itself. He palmed his bulge, letting out a frustrated sigh.
“Oh…” Y/N responded, bewildered and a bit embarrassed she hadn’t known of this. “That sounds terrible…maybe we should call a doctor?”
“Missy, the doctor’s not going to be able to help me with this at 09:30 PM…” Ransom said in midst of laughing. “It’s not how it works anyway…I need something that can…stimulate me,…you know, like a massage. But my own hand doesn’t work. It’s like how it doesn’t feel as good to scratch your own back as when somebody else does it for you. It just feels better and makes me loosen up...” Ransom explained carefully.
There was a brief silence where Y/N was biting her lip as if she was thinking thoroughly about what to say next. It didn’t take long until she met his gaze again.
“Do you…want me to help you, Ran? I can give you a massage if you need it…”
And he had her exactly where he wanted her.
His face lit up innocently, but it was all pretend. “You’d really do that for me, darling?”
“Yes, I don’t want you to hurt anymore…- but I don’t know how to help without it being weird between us….it would be out of place if we were to…you know…do ‘inappropriate things’…no?”
Ransom was aware Y/N knew what sex was. Everyone had went through sex eduction after all. However, to his advantage she had no clue about male anatomy. He could say his cum is a good recourse of protein and she would probably believe it. But while it was tempting to convince her to have her use her mouth this evening, he knew for her sake that it would be best to take it slow.
“It won’t be weird, missy…it’s just a ‘special massage’, nothing else…- what, were you thinking of sex? Is that where your head’s at?”
“No! No, no, no, I-I just…I didn’t think…” she was stumbling with her words at this point, her cheeks flushed as she looked to the side while Ransom began to unzip his pants.
“Hm, your mind is dirtier than I thought. Helping your best friend feel better from being uncomfortable isn’t sex. You’re a dumb baby for assuming that’s how it works.”
Y/N’s face scrunched, growing more embarrassed as Ransom taunted her innocence. “I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t know…” she then inched closer to him, ready to give him a helping hand like she always do.
Ransom swore he could feel his heart skip a few beats as his eyes followed her hand, reaching out for his cock. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening, but then again Ransom always got what he wanted.
He could sense Y/N’s hesitance as she placed her hand beneath his cock, on his pants. He snickered while reaching for her shoulder to pat with reassurance.
“Go on, don’t be shy…” Ransom purred as he rested his arms on the sofa cushions. “I trust you. Don’t you trust me, missy?”
She looked up at him once again, nodding with a timid smile before her fingertips reached over to wrap around his shaft, making him groan.
“That’s it…grab firmly around the base and keep motioning it up and down to the tip..” he instructed, his breathing already turning irregular with each stroke Y/N did. Her hand was so soft, and what made him feel all the more aroused was facing with the fact that it was hers. Her delicate hand working on his cock, something he has dreamed of for so long.
“Am I doing a good job, Ran? Is the pain going away?” Y/N asked innocently, her face with complete concentration on doing her given task.
“You’re doing amazing, darling…fuck, you’re making me feel so good too. Such a good girl you are..” he rasped his praise to her. Ransom’s eyes were clouded with lust as he stared back at her. He took a quick peek at her breasts, which with her current crouched position were being squished together, defining their round forms better. He let out a sharp gasp for air as he shut his eyes again, concentrating on not cumming too quick.
“Fuck, if you could just…fondle my balls with your other hand, - the pain will go away faster…”
Y/N immediately followed through with his next demand, cupping his heavy balls while she stroked his length, pre-cum dripping heavily.
Y/N’s breathing was growing shallow, her face flushed as her eyes didn’t stop staring down his cock with fascination. How big and veiny he was. She was practically drooling at the sight as it throbbed for each thrust, pulsing for more.
She had denied being a virgin once when Ransom had asked about it, but with the way she was looking at his cock, he could tell she probably still was but was too embarrassed to admit it back then.
He preferred thinking of it that way anyway. He should be the first to enter her little cute pussy when the time was right after all. Only him.
“Go faster, darling…ngh I’m so close…so close to feeling better.” Ransom moaned while gripping the sofa cushions. Y/N bit her lip at his response and eagerly used both of her hands to stroke him faster.
It was too much for him. He had craved her touch for so long, and now that he was getting his craving, he was becoming overwhelmed. With her, he had turned into a horny teenager again. It couldn’t be helped.
Ransom threw his head back as he announced his climax, “Fuck! Shit! M’gonna…!” and with that, his cum spurted out while his hips rocked upwards, the substance mostly splattering on Y/N’s hand making her yelp in surprise. His cock became glazed with his load, making it look even more tasty for Y/N.
Y/N didn’t know why she was feeling so needy and hot by the sight of it. She only knew it felt good.
She witnessed his cock softening, and to that she was convinced she had successfully helped her best friend make ‘his pain’ go away. She looked at him in the eye, hoping he could confirm.
When his breathing became regular again, he raised his head up again to look at her and smiled proudly.
Ransom quickly tucked his cock back in his pants and wiped her hand from the spurts that had got her with the use of a napkin as he gave her a kiss on her cheek, before pulling her into his embrace, “Mmh, my dear best friend…you did such a good job of making my pain go away. I can always count on you.”
They stopped paying much attention to the movie playing in front of them as they cuddled, and Ransom was already planning in his head for next week’s movie night. He couldn’t wait.
A/N: Thank you anon for sparking me with some inspiration! This was very enjoyable to write!
halloween is the perfect time for tricks—and treats
pairing: soft!dark friend!steve rogers x female reader
summary: steve rogers is tired of being stuck in the friendzone and when he overhears you planning to pick up a one night stand at your mutual friend's halloween party, he decides to play a little trick on you—one where you'll both be getting a treat.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dubcon (because steve's wearing a mask), piv sex, unprotected sex, pervy behavior (both steve and reader are huge pervs tbh), BDSM themes, masturbation (m), dirty dancing/dry humping, ass play, fingering (f receiving, vaginal and anal), finger sucking, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, filming/recording/taking photos during sex, exhibitionism, breeding kink, super possessive behavior, talk of branding, talk of being friendzoned (even tho the friendzone is not fucking real), hair-pulling, aftercare, pet names (angel) — let me know if i missed something!!
word count: 19.4k
a/n: i think this remains the longest one shot i've written, even a year later, which is kind of wild!! this one really did get away from me. but man oh man does it have everything i love, most especially golden boy steve rogers who's actually, secretly, a filthy perv. god this might be one of my most favorite steve fics i've written. so i hope y'all enjoy it too!! ♡ (also again the friendzone is bullshit and not real and don't ever let a man tell you otherwise!!!)
halloween fics masterlist
-
“God, I need to get fucked,” you groaned in a hushed voice in the living room of your friend’s apartment. The quiet that followed indicated you were talking on the phone, the soft tinny sound of someone else speaking reaching even to the hallway.
At your words, the apartment’s owner, Steve Rogers, paused just out of sight in the hallway, shamelessly listening in on your conversation, his dick twitching in his pants at the desperate need in your voice. He’d been friends with you for a couple years and, almost the entire time, he’d been trying to figure out how to make a move on you without being creepy.
Steve liked you—a lot. He liked spending time with you, he liked listening to you laugh and he liked how you seemed to feel safe with him. But he wanted more, and the things he wanted to do to you…He thought you’d shy away if he said any of them out loud in your presence. The problem was, he couldn’t tell if you liked him the way he liked you, or if you thought of him as just a friend. You’d never told him you didn’t have feelings for him, but you’d never hinted at wanting more either. And you’d dated other guys, but you’d never dated him.
No, Steve thought, you just tortured him and played innocent. You cuddled up to him on his couch, acting all innocent as you pressed your tits into his side and rested your head on his chest while you watched movies together. You’d ask him to spoon you sometimes, your soft ass pressing against his lap, just laying there while Steve’s cock would get hard for you. He’d lay there until you fell asleep, your sweet breaths puffing out against his bicep, then shove his hand in his pants and tug on his cock, thinking about slipping his fingers between your legs to find you wet and willing for him. He’d imagine fucking you in your sleep, sliding into your warm, wet hole and filling you up with his cock. Sometimes he’d picture coming deep inside your pussy without you waking up, claiming you while you were none the wiser, and other times he’d imagine you waking up and the look on your face when you realized your friend was fucking you. He’d come in his boxers like a fucking teenager with you sleeping in his arms completely unaware.
Steve’s friends had tried to help him get out of the friendzone—Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson had plenty of suggestions for how to see if you’d ever think of Steve as more than just a friend. But Steve knew he had to play his hand exactly right or he’d risk coming off like a creep, and girls like you didn’t date creeps. So he’d bided his time, he’d kept his need on a tight leash, taking what he could get when what he really wanted was to pound into you with his cock. But he was getting frustrated and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold himself back, not when he knew you were lounging on his couch talking about how much you needed to get fucked.
“I mean, Steve’s hot as fuck and all…” you trailed off in the other room and Steve perked up at the sound of his name.
Sure, you’d complimented him before. When he’d taken you as his date to his boss’s wedding, you’d told him how handsome he’d looked in a suit while you smoothed your hands over his chest. It had taken all his self control not to yank you against him so you could feel how hard you made him from just those small touches. Instead, he’d thanked you politely and offered his arm, like the gentleman he’d convinced you he was.
But, Steve realized, you’d never called him hot before. He’d never known you thought about him like that and pride bloomed in his chest at the compliment. At the same time, something warned him he wasn’t going to like how you finished your sentence. He was right.
“I just—I don’t know if he can really fuck me, y’know?” you muttered into your phone, clearly trying to keep your voice down so he wouldn’t hear. He was meant to be grabbing some snacks for your movie night, and they shook in Steve’s hand as he got more and more irritated by your words. “He’s a gentleman, he doesn’t exactly give off ‘I’ll fuck you like a slut’ energy.”
Frustration blinded Steve’s vision for a moment. That was why you’d never given him a chance? You thought he couldn’t fuck you properly? You thought he was too much of a gentleman to treat you like a slut? He’d never known about this side of you. Even with how close you’d become as friends, you’d kept it carefully hidden from Steve. And he’d kept his own dark desires hidden as well, too worried they’d scare you off before he had a chance to show you how good you could be together. But you were just as depraved as he was.
Frustration morphed into relief and then elation. If you wanted to be treated like a filthy slut, Steve thought, then he’d show you exactly what he was capable of. Having made up his mind to prove you wrong, he almost stormed into the living room and ripped the phone from your hands to bend you over and fuck you into the couch, but your next words stopped him.
“Sam’s Halloween party it is, then,” you said, finality in your voice like you’d come to a decision. Steve already knew it didn’t have anything to do with him. You’d written him off as an unacceptable partner, but he’d show you how wrong you were, making a decision of his own. “Yeah I’ll send you pics of my costume—it’s so slutty, it’ll be perfect.” You giggled, the sound shooting straight to Steve’s cock.
He gripped his hardening dick through his pants, stroking himself idly to the sound of your voice while a plan formed in his head. It hadn’t taken him long to piece together your idea to pick up some guy at Sam’s Halloween party, and Steve decided he could use that to his advantage. Besides, he wanted to see exactly how slutty your Halloween costume was—and he wanted to see just how much of a pathetic, needy little slut you could be under the right circumstances. Steve let go of his dick, using his hand to get his phone out and order the perfect mask for his plan.
After all, what kind of friend would he be if he let you fuck some random guy? You could pick up someone who was dangerous, who didn’t respect your boundaries—or worse, someone who couldn’t satisfy you. Steve knew he could satisfy you, he reasoned, slipping his phone back in his pocket and returning his hand to his dick. He jerked his cock harder in the hallway outside his living room, listening to you laugh on the other side of the wall.
Really, he thought, it was his responsibility as your friend to make sure you were safe, to make sure you were fucked by someone you could trust. Who could you trust better than your good friend Steve Rogers? He stroked his cock harder to the sound of your voice, imagining you on your knees and staring up at him with your eyes wide while you sucked his length into your throat. He came to the thought of coating your pretty face with his come, your giggles echoing in his ears as he spilled himself inside his jeans.
As he turned away and silently padded back down the hallway, heading toward his room to change, Steve only grew more confident in his plan. He knew he could satisfy the filthy little slut in you and then, if you let him, he’d finally have an answer to how you felt about him. So what if he had to trick you into it? It was Halloween, the perfect time for tricks—and treats.
-~-~-
You walked into Sam Wilson’s wild Halloween party on a mission, determination in your strut and conviction in the tilt of your chin. Ever since telling your best friends Yelena Belova and Kate Bishop about your need to get fucked and all three of you deciding Sam’s Halloween party was the best place to find a guy to satisfy you, it was all you could think about.
After talking to them on the phone while you were at your friend Steve Rogers’ place for a movie night—and waiting for him to come back with snacks, which took forever—you were worried you’d leave a wet spot on his couch from thinking about being bent over and railed in the woods behind Sam’s house. You didn’t, thankfully, since you weren’t sure how Steve would’ve reacted. He was such a polite gentleman, he probably would’ve pretended he didn’t see it. You couldn’t imagine your blond-haired and blue-eyed golden boy of a friend shoving your face in the wet spot and fucking you hard enough to hurt as punishment for getting his couch messy.
Well, you could imagine it, and the thought made you wet as fuck, but the problem was you didn’t think he’d ever actually do it. And that was exactly why you weren’t looking to your best guy friend to satisfy your need to get fucked. Steve seemed like he would be a little too vanilla in bed for your tastes and you didn’t have the energy to spend weeks and months introducing him to what you liked, what you needed. Better to find some random guy who’d fuck you filthy and then fuck off in the morning.
Pushing aside thoughts of Steve and how you wished he was just as wickedly depraved as you, you refocused on Sam’s Halloween party. Your eyes scanned what you could see of the first floor of the house from just inside the front door, looking for someone to catch your eye. The foyer opened up into a large living room where all the furniture had been pushed against the walls, making room for a DJ table blasting loud music and a big dance floor that was already crowded with people dressed in all kinds of costumes.
There were some fun creative ones, playing on the year’s biggest memes, then there were the guys who put in barely any effort, dressing like a lumberjack or just getting a mask from a Halloween store. And, of course, there were plenty of girls dressed in all manner of slutty costumes. Not that you were judging anyone for dressing slutty—your costume was literally lingerie.
You wore a little white silk cami dress you’d found in the lingerie section of an online shop, the neckline dipped low and the bottom hem barely covered your ass. To turn it into an angel costume, you’d paired it with white patent leather mary jane heels, some small fluffy white wings strapped to your shoulders and a headband lifting a feathery halo above your head. Both Yelena and Kate had wolf-whistled when you’d finished getting ready, assuring you it would be easy to pick up a guy at Sam’s party.
Before you’d found anyone in the living room that you thought might do the trick, Yelena and Kate each looped an arm through yours and led you down the hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house. It was crowded, but not nearly as bad as the living room. You and your friends made a beeline for the host, who was dressed like a king—complete with crown and scepter—and holding court like one in front of a group of girls dressed like slutty nurses and sailors.
Sam greeted you and your friends warmly, kissing each of you on the cheek as he hugged you. After you’d hugged Sam, you turned to Bucky—taking a short moment to appreciate the way he filled out his army costume—hugging and kissing him on the cheek as well.
“Where’s Steve?” you asked, half-shouting in Bucky’s ear to be heard over the thumping music in the living room. You had to brace a hand on his shoulder, going up on tiptoes to make sure he heard you.
Bucky smirked as you leaned in close, giving him a perfect view down your dress, and he wasn’t above sneaking a peek. “He’s running a little late, but he’ll be here soon, doll,” Bucky answered, turning his head so his stubbled jaw rubbed against the soft skin of your cheek, all the while eying your tits without being too obvious about it.
You shivered at the bristly feel of Bucky’s rough stubble against your skin, ignoring the rushing thrill it sent through your body to pull away and pout up at him. “But then who’s going to hold my phone while I dance?” you asked in a teasing voice, holding up your phone and gesturing at your dress to show you had no where to put it.
Heat flamed in Bucky’s eyes as his gaze raked down your body, taking in your skimpy dress that clung to all your curves and left your legs bare from thigh to ankle. But when he looked back up at you, it was gone so fast you weren’t sure if you’d seen it or not. Before you could decide if Bucky had really been checking you out, he snagged your phone and slipped it into the pocket of his army pants. “I’ve got it, doll, I’ll give it to Steve when he gets here,” he said, giving you a charming smile.
“Thank you!” you half-yelled, going up on tiptoe again to plant another kiss on Bucky’s rugged cheek, pressing your hand on his firm chest to keep your balance. For a moment, you lingered. Bucky smelled like fresh winter air and beer, the scent enticing on his skin. Your nipple grazed against his arm, sending a little shiver down your spine as you pulled away sharply.
When you caught Bucky’s eye, his blue gaze burned with heat that made you feel hot and flustered. “Don’t mention it, doll,” Bucky said, a smirk curving his full lips. His tongue poked out and traced his lower lip and you didn’t realize you were so focused on the movement until one of your best friends wrenched your attention away.
Yelena tugged on your arm, yelling, “SHOTS!” in your face as she pulled you away from Bucky. You laughed, joining your friends at the kitchen island. Sam had poured each of you a shot of tequila and you happily reached for one of the little plastic shot glasses.
Bucky pressed against your back, much closer than was technically appropriate between friends—close enough you could feel a bulge in the front of his pants—and reached around you to grab a shot of his own. You shivered, feeling the heat and hardness of your friend’s body through the thin satin of your dress and wondered if you should abandon your plan to find some random guy and fuck Bucky instead. He had an edge to him Steve didn’t and you wondered if that translated to him being able to give you what you needed.
But then Sam was raising his shot glass, everyone else following his lead, and you looked around at your group of friends. You realized if you fucked Bucky, there may have been a better chance of you getting the type of sex you wanted, but it would impact the rest of your friend group and you weren’t willing to risk it. You weren’t even sure Bucky could fuck you like that—maybe he was even more vanilla than Steve. Those were good enough reasons not to press back into Bucky, but if you were honest with yourself, the real reason was that deep down you knew if you fucked either Bucky or Sam, it’d ruin your chances with Steve forever, and you didn’t want that. But you didn’t have time to unpack that thought when you were surrounded by friends at a Halloween party.
Your attention refocused on your friends just in time for Sam to finish whatever toast he’d been giving, “Let’s party hard, fuck hard and have a happy Halloween!” Everyone laughed and you clinked glasses with Yelena and Kate before downing your shot. You’d already started pre-gaming back at your own apartment with your friends, so the tequila went down easily, settling deep in your stomach and spreading warmth through your limbs.
“Another!” Thor Odinson yelled, joining your group and snatching the bottle of tequila from Sam before pouring more shots.
You held out your cup for more alongside Kate and Yelena, and you all downed that round together without waiting for another toast. Thor and Sam cheered you three on, then threw back their own shots. The alcohol created a happy glow in your chest that had your limbs loosening, but when you held your cup out for another, a warm palm slid around your side to your stomach, pulling you back against a broad body, your angel wings crushing against a hard chest, and out of reach of Thor’s pouring.
“Don’t you think you should take it easy, doll?” Bucky asked in a low voice next to your ear so only you could hear. “You just got here.” He reached around you with his other arm, plucking your shot glass out of your fingers and tossing it down on the island.
Frowning while your friends did a third shot, you turned in Bucky’s arms, purposefully brushing your ass against the bulge in his pants to torture him for taking your cup away. You pouted up at him. “I’m just having fun!” you insisted, leaning further into his chest and giving him your best wide-eyed puppy dog look. Your hands landed on Bucky’s shoulders and you couldn’t help but notice how broad and strong they felt under your fingers.
Bucky grinned as you pressed up against him. It wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting, but he wasn’t going to complain when you pressed your soft tits against his hard chest. His arm had settled around your lower back, just above the swell of your ass and he wondered if he could get away with a little grope before Steve showed up. He was still debating it when he ducked his head so he could speak into your ear. “I’m just looking out for you, doll,” he said, innocence in his voice. “Don’t want you to be a drunk, sloppy mess before Steve even gets here.”
Your friend’s deep voice rumbling through your chest and the feel of his breath on your neck sent electricity shooting down your spine, settling deep in your core. You knew you’d already decided not to fuck Bucky, but you couldn’t help yourself from melting against him—he just felt so good. Too distracted by dragging your palms down from his shoulders to his arms, practically feeling him up through his army costume, you didn’t even wonder why Bucky wouldn’t want you getting too drunk before Steve showed up.
A sharp smack on your ass shocked you out of your lust-drunk—and a little bit real-drunk—stupor. With a gasp, you looked up at Bucky in surprise. He wore a smug grin, no hint of remorse in his shining blue eyes for spanking you. And, if you were honest with yourself, you liked it. You wondered if you should reconsider Bucky as a potential one night stand or fuck buddy. Maybe it’d be worth it…
Before you could come to a decision, Bucky eased you away from his body. “Go dance, doll,” he ordered in a quiet, commanding tone that had heat gathering between your legs.
Tongue-tied by your reaction to your friend, you nodded dumbly and turned back to your friends. You swallowed hard as you tugged on their arms. “Time to dance!” you yelled over the music, proud of yourself when your voice came out loud and strong. Yelena and Kate both screamed happily, waving to Sam, Thor and Bucky before winding through the crowd to the living room.
You shook off your attraction to Bucky, reminding yourself he was off limits unless you wanted Steve to be furious with you. And you didn’t want that. Probably. Unless that was the key to getting what you wanted from him… You pushed that thought aside as you linked hands with your friends, dancing in a circle on the edge of the crowd. All the while, you kept an eye out to see if there was anyone at the party who looked like they could fuck you the way you needed.
-~-~-
Back in the kitchen, Bucky watched you dance until Steve walked in through the back door of Sam’s house. The brown-haired man dragged his eyes from your ass and looked to his best friend, easily recognizing the costume he’d helped Steve assemble. Steve lifted the mask of his costume up, setting it on top of his head as he beelined through the kitchen to Bucky.
“Your girl’s already here,” Bucky said by way of a greeting, nodding to the living room where you were dancing to the thumping beat with your friends. You, Yelena and Kate were still on the edge of the crowd, in full view of the kitchen. Your hips swayed rhythmically to the beat as both men watched.
You hadn’t been kidding that night in his apartment, Steve realized, your costume was slutty. The way the bottom hem of your dress fluttered while you danced, revealing glimpses of your plush ass, had his cock thickening in his pants. He wanted to bend you over where you stood and shove his cock deep in your pussy, claiming you for everyone to see while you squealed and squirmed under him. See if you call him a gentleman after that.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, Steve turned back to his best friend, who held out a phone for him. “She gave me this to hold on to,” Bucky explained and for a moment, jealousy flared hot in Steve’s chest at the thought of you letting anyone but him hold onto your phone. Bucky must’ve sensed the shift in Steve because he was quick to explain. “Don’t worry, man, I told her I’d give it to you as soon as I saw you.”
That helped to soothe the jealousy a bit, along with the knowledge that Bucky knew better than to make a move on you. Steve wasn’t oblivious, he’d seen the way his best friend looked at you sometimes, and he’d wanted to get to the party before you to ensure you didn’t get any ideas about Bucky. But he knew his best friend wouldn’t encourage or take you up on any offer that might piss off Steve. Bucky was a bit bigger, but Steve was tenacious in a fight and he knew he could beat his friend’s ass if he needed to prove a point—the point being that you belonged to him.
“Thanks man,” Steve muttered to his friend, his eyes finding you again in the crowd. As you spun slowly where you danced, he got a better look at your angel costume—if it could even be called that. The soft shiny material of your dress clung to your waist and the curves of your tits, barely covering your ass, making your legs look long and leaving them on display for everyone to see.
When you twirled again, he watched your tits jiggle in the top and bit back a groan at the realization you weren’t wearing a bra. Were you wearing panties under that little dress, he wondered, or were you dancing on the edge of flashing your pussy to every guy in the room with each twist of your hips? What a fucking slut, Steve thought, sexual frustration and affection creating an intoxicating haze in his mind. The urge to make you his slut was almost overwhelming.
Steve was dragged out of his possessive thoughts by Bucky pressing a beer into his hand. The blond grunted a thanks to his best friend as he continued watching you dance until your friends dragged you deeper into the crowd and you disappeared from view. When he turned to Bucky, he found his best friend’s eyes following you through the throng of dancers. Steve knocked his shoulder against his friend to get Bucky’s attention.
The brunet shrugged unapologetically, taking a swig from his own beer before speaking low so only Steve could hear. “She’s needy tonight, Stevie,” he said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation before going on. “Practically humped my leg when I took her drink away—for you, mind you, so she wouldn’t be too drunk,” he added quickly before Steve could jump to the wrong conclusion that Bucky was trying to make a move on you. Bucky pointed a finger at his best friend and raised his eyebrows. “You sure you’re gonna be able to handle her?”
Steve smirked, not letting himself be anything less than self-assured that you’d end the night begging him to let you out of the friendzone. He couldn’t wait to watch you come apart on his cock, bent over with your face down and ass up while he pounded your pussy until you were crying through your release. Although he’d clued Bucky in on his plan to fuck you, he hadn’t told the brunet everything he had in mind for you, so he could understand his friend’s concern to a certain extent, but that didn’t stop Steve from snorting derisively.
“I can handle her,” he answered confidently, flicking his gaze to his best friend’s. “Why, you want a piece of her?” Steve had never confronted Bucky with the way his friend looked at you, and he was curious to see what Bucky would say when presented with the option.
Bucky gave his friend a long look, trying to work out if the question was a trap, but after a moment he threw back the rest of his beer and shrugged, deciding he didn’t give a fuck either way. “Yeah, man, you know I’d be more than happy to volunteer if all she’s looking for is some easy, no strings attached dick,” he answered honestly. “But I know she’s yours—but you gotta take what’s yours first, before you go around offering to share, Stevie,” Bucky shot a meaningful look at Steve before he slapped his blond friend on the shoulder and stepped away to grab another beer.
Steve absorbed what his friend had said while he watched the crowd of dancers, catching sight of your halo and angel wings between the shifting bodies. He made a mental note that Bucky was interested in you and he didn’t seem to mind sharing as long as he had Steve’s blessing. The blond was in the middle of figuring out what he could do with that information when he caught sight of you in the mass of people on the dance floor.
You were dancing with some guy dressed as a devil, grinding your ass back against his lap, arms looped around his neck in a way that pushed your tits out obscenely, your nipples peaked and poking through the shimmery white dress you wore. Angel wings hung from your shoulders in direct contrast to the filthy way you moved. As Steve watched, the guy slid his hands from your hips down to your thighs and Steve growled at seeing someone—some random stranger—touching what was his without permission.
Steve finished his beer and fixed his Halloween costume mask back over his face before pushing off the kitchen counter he’d been leaning against. He stalked through the crowded kitchen with a purposeful stride, diving into the crush of bodies in the living room. With relentless intent, he moved toward you with the singular focus of getting to you and stealing you away from that fucking devil guy.
-~-~-
Your pussy throbbed to the beat of the pounding music and your arousal was slicking your thighs as you moved in the arms of a guy dressed like a devil, your wetness having already soaked through your tiny little thong. You were horny, needy, desperate, and the feel of grinding on a guy on the dance floor was only making you hotter. His hands were sliding down from your waist to your thighs, teasing the bottom of your dress, and you moaned softly, pressing your ass back into the hardness in his pants.
He didn’t seem that big by your judgement, but you were hoping you were wrong—though you still hadn’t decided whether to risk it and find a dark corner to get better acquainted with what he was working with. Yet. But then he had to go and kill your mood.
“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, baby?” the devil asked in your ear.
Something about the guy’s voice gave you an immediate ick and your face screwed up in a disgusted look as you shuddered, feeling like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over your desire. You didn’t even realize you had such a thing for voices until this guy’s completely turned you off. It didn’t help that he’d chosen probably the most cliched pickup line he possibly could’ve—zero points for matching it to your costume.
When you looked around, ignoring the question and looking for your friends to have them help you escape, your gaze landed on a man off to the side. He stood still in the throng of dancers, standing out in the crowd like a lighthouse standing sentry amidst a thrashing storm. Even though you couldn’t see the man’s eyes, you could feel his intent gaze on your body.
The man was tall and dressed like Ghostface from Scream, but instead of the cheap black robe most guys wore with the hooded mask, he donned a black t-shirt that pulled deliciously tight over a broad chest and shoulders, the sleeves stretched to the point of nearly ripping across his bulging biceps. Your eyes trailed down, finding his t-shirt was tucked into black jeans slung low on a trim waist, the bottom of his pants disappearing into black combat boots. His arms were bare up to the wrist, showing off muscular forearms that were dusted with light brown hair, wearing what looked like black latex gloves on his hands. The overall effect had heat singing through your body, settling deep in your core and making you wet all over again.
The devil at your back either didn’t care or didn’t notice you hadn’t responded to him, and his hands started to inch higher on your thighs, slipping under the hem of your dress and making you shudder in revulsion, an outraged frown marring your face. You were about to turn around and push the devil guy off you, but Ghostface was quicker, grabbing your hand and pulling you into his chest while he pressed his palm against the devil’s face and shoved him away from you.
“What the fuck!” the devil shouted indignantly.
You couldn’t be bothered to even look back at the guy, too busy plastering yourself against Ghostface, your front flush against his strong chest, your nipples rubbing the inside of your satin dress teasingly. You shivered and pressed yourself harder against him, your arms winding around his neck and clinging to him while your hips swayed to the beat of the music.
Ghostface made a shooing gesture at the devil and the other guy stalked off in a huff, disappearing in the crowd. You barely noticed him leave, especially as the feel of Ghostface’s gloved hands smoothing down your lower back to your ass lit a fire beneath your skin. He shoved his knee between your thighs and hiked you up on his leg until you were grinding your wet pussy down on his muscular thigh. He bent his knees, working his hips in slow rolls to the thumping bass.
You let him manhandle you onto his leg and then leaned on him, draping your body over his and grinding to the beat. Pressing your face into his shoulder, you took a deep breath, inhaling his scent—woodsy and earthy. Something about it seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. Ignoring why it smelled familiar, you let Ghostface’s scent lull you into a sense of safety you didn’t quite understand.
All around you, other people danced, but Ghostface worked your bodies to the music in a way that felt more like fucking than dancing. In no time at all, you were breathless and panting with need, clinging to his shoulders as your knees wobbled and slick covered your thighs, no doubt soaking into his pants. But though you wanted to spread your legs wider and grind harder until you came all over this stranger’s thigh, you forced yourself to hold back that slutty impulse. Instead, you made yourself spin around in his arms until your ass settled against his lap so you could get a hint at what he was working with and whether it’d be worth it to choose him to fuck you.
A sharp gasp caught in your throat as you felt Ghostface’s massive bulge twitch against your ass. He didn’t even feel fully hard and he was bigger than any other guy you’d fucked. He felt like he was almost as big as Steve—not that you knew how big your friend’s cock was. But he’d get hard while you spooned sometimes. You’d lay in his arms, silently praying he’d make a move, but he never did, and you’d fall asleep wet and frustrated, feeling Steve’s cock pressing against your ass. The feel of it was burned into your memory.
If Ghostface was anywhere near as big as your friend, you just had to fuck him. Before you’d even fully made your decision, your ass was grinding back against him indecently. You moaned softly and lifted your arms up to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers digging into the cheap fabric of the mask’s hood. Your back arched in a perfect curve, your angel wings crushed against his chest, your tits thrust forward, nipples poking through your thin dress.
Ghostface’s gloved hands gripped your hips roughly, fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to make you gasp again. The dull pain of his grip was quickly overshadowed by the heat of your arousal as he rubbed his thick bulge against your ass. “Like what you feel, angel?” the man asked, his voice low and rough in your ear.
Again, something about the man’s voice sparked a sense of familiarity deep in your brain, but you brushed it off as simple chemistry. You were so turned on by the stranger, you were imagining things that weren’t there, wanting him to be someone he wasn’t. Still, he had you so hot and bothered you’d be an idiot not to choose him to be the one to fuck you—so you made your decision.
Tilting your head back against his shoulder so your mouth was closer to his ear, you let out a low, wanton moan. “I like it a lot, Mr. Ghostface,” you rasped in a husky, needy tone, grinding your ass harder against his bulge. You could hear him breathing harshly through the mask and it only turned you on more.
“Fuck,” he grunted, voice distorted through the mask but deliciously deep, sending a shiver down your spine to settle heavily in your core. “You’re a dirty fucking slut, aren’tcha, angel?” he asked, sliding his gloved hands down from your hips to your thighs. When you nodded against his shoulder, he groped your soft flesh in an almost punishing grip, fingers teasing the insides of your thighs. “Are you wearing any panties under this slutty little dress?” he asked, his hands sliding up under the hem until the tips of his gloved fingers were mere centimeters away from your dripping slit. “Or were you planning on flashing this pussy to all the men here until one snapped and bent you over, fucking you in the middle of the room for the whole party to see?”
His filthy words were like electric currents shooting straight to your throbbing core, your clit pulsing with need as he spoke to you with such vulgar language in that deep, degrading tone. Ghostface was exactly what you’d wanted to find at Sam’s Halloween party, a man who would fuck you like a slut, and you were almost giddy enough to turn around and jump him in the middle of the dance floor. You managed to hold yourself back, turning around in his arms until you were facing him again. “Why don’t you take me upstairs and find out for yourself,” you challenged, a smirk curling the edge of your mouth.
Through the black mesh of the Ghostface mask’s eyes, you could see the man’s gaze sparkle with hunger and though you couldn’t be sure since his face was hidden, you felt certain he was grinning. He ducked his head so he could speak next to your ear. “I have a better idea, angel,” he growled, sending more shivers skating down your spine.
Before you could ask what he meant, Ghostface grabbed your hand, threading his fingers through yours and tugging you toward the sliding door that lead to the house’s back deck. It was a warm night for October, but there was still a chill in the air and your outfit was incredibly skimpy, so when you stepped outside, a shudder wracked your body. You clung to Ghostface’s hand, winding yourself around his arm to try to steal some of his warmth.
He glanced down at you and you thought you caught a glimpse of his eyes shining happily at the sight of you clinging to him, but he looked away to navigate through the crowd on the deck. He didn’t stop to talk to anyone, just tugged you along with him as he walked to the edge, then down the stairs to the yard. There were fewer people milling about, but some were circled around a fire pit. Ghostface ignored them, leading you down the sloping grass hill, holding your hand firmly so you didn’t slip on the damp grass. The sounds of the party, the thumping bass from inside and the chatter of people by the fire pit, grew more distant the farther you got away from the house.
When he walked to the edge of the tree line where Sam’s property ended and the woods began, you dug your heels into the soft earth beneath your feet and pulled the stranger to a stop. Even with how horny you were for this man, you had some sense of self-preservation and it was telling you not to walk into the woods with a complete stranger whose face you hadn’t even seen. “Where are we going?” you asked, a little bit of fear leaking through your voice.
Ghostface glanced back at the house and when you followed his gaze, you saw Bucky standing on the back deck, leaning on the wooden railing, smoking a cigarette. Though it was too far away to really tell, you had the feeling Bucky was watching you and the man. If you screamed for help, you were sure he’d come running, but you hadn’t decided if that was necessary just yet. Tingles of desire were mixing with the little shivers of fear and creating an intoxicating mix in your body that you didn’t want to give up unless you had to.
“Before we get started,” Ghostface began in a low, rumbling voice. “Do you want a safe word?”
His words drew your attention back to the man in the Ghostface mask, and you couldn’t help but notice he didn’t answer your question. His voice distracted you, though. Without the loud music and crush of bodies, that sense of familiarity sparked stronger at the sound, just like when you’d heard his voice inside and when you’d smelled him. You tilted your head to the side as you considered him.
When you didn’t answer, his shoulders stiffened like he was afraid he was losing you. “Pick a safe word, angel, and I’ll stop whatever we’re doing if you use it,” he urged, a thread of desperation in his tone.
His voice niggled at your brain. You knew you recognized it, you just weren’t sure who it belonged to. But your curiosity was piqued and you were still so fucking horny, so you threw caution to the wind. Even if he didn’t respect your safe word, Bucky was within earshot if you screamed. So you gave him a word. “Sidney,” you said, lips quirking at your cleverness while you stared at the Ghostface mask.
His shoulders relaxed and you could hear the grin in his voice as he responded, “Sidney, it is.” He held his black gloved hand out to you.
For a moment, you just looked at it. Your eyes trailed up his muscled arm to the Ghostface mask and then over his shoulder to the pitch black woods beyond. You weren’t sure what he had planned for you, but the way your slit leaked at the thought of being fucked in the woods had you making a decision. With one last glance over your shoulder, finding Bucky still standing on the deck, you slid your fingers into his hand and let him tug you into the deep, dark shadows of the trees.
It was even colder in the woods, and you pressed close to Ghostface’s muscled arm as he tromped through the fallen leaves and underbrush. He didn’t make you walk far, maybe a minute or two, until he came to a stop in a little clearing, the trees overhead thinned enough for the full moon to shine down on the forest floor. Laid out over the ground was a thick blanket, or maybe a couple of layered blankets, and they looked clean, like they’d only been put there earlier that day.
When you looked up at Ghostface, you caught that look in his eye through the mesh, like he was grinning beneath the mask. “We’ll have more privacy out here, angel,” he said, his voice low and rumbly and a little muffled. “So you can scream as loud as you want.”
Maybe you should’ve been scared, maybe you should’ve used your safe word or tried to run back to the party, but at his sinful words, you pressed closer. “You gonna fuck me hard enough to scream, Mr. Ghostface?” you asked in a teasing voice, your lips plumped up in a pout.
“Oh, angel,” he growled, tugging you around to his front. He walked you back until you were pressed up against the thick trunk of a tree, your fluffy feathered angel wings protecting your shoulders from the bark. With a rough grip on your thigh, he lifted one of your legs up to hook around his waist, stepping in between and pinning you to the tree, the massive bulge in his pants pressed to your dripping core. You shivered at the feel of him, wondering for the first time whether it would fit. “I’m gonna fuck you until you scream yourself raw.”
With that sinful promise hanging in the air and stealing all clever comebacks from your lips, Ghostface reached down and shoved your dress up around your hips until your tiny white thong was on display. The meager scrap of cloth was the only thing protecting your wet little slit from his eyes. He let out a deep, guttural groan at the sight. “Fuck, angel, I don’t think you could even count these as panties,” he muttered, his black gloved fingers tracing the side of the garment. In a quick movement, he twisted his fingers around the thin fabric and, with a sharp yank, he easily ripped the thong away from your body.
A harsh gasp was pulled from your lips and you jerked in Ghostface’s arms at the feel of your panties being ripped off you. No one had ever done that to you before and it drove you a little wild, seeing the way this man’s muscles had bulged in his arm as he tore through your panties. More desire leaked from your slit and slid down to your ass. As Ghostface pulled your ruined panties away from your body, the fabric clinging obscenely to your soaking wet folds, it was replaced with the cold air of the night. Goosebumps raised all over your body as the October chill caressed your drenched pussy and slick thighs, highlighting exactly how messy you were already.
But a moment later, you couldn’t care less about the cold because Ghostface was pressing his gloved fingers between your folds, sliding them against your slippery skin and circling your clit. Your hips bucked against his hand, trying to take his fingers inside your grasping channel. You were so wet and needy and you felt pathetically empty, every cell in your body demanding you be filled and fucked, but the man just tsked at you.
“Such a needy fucking slut,” he gritted out like he was clenching his teeth while he played with your pussy. His head was tilted down like he couldn’t get enough of the sight of his fingers sliding between your folds, and the way your body responded to his touch. “So fucking wet and warm—this cunt is begging for cock, isn’t it angel?”
“God, yes,” you answered on an exhale, your voice breathless with need. “Need your cock.” You tried to reach between your bodies and tug on his belt to slide it open, but Ghostface batted your hands away.
He gripped your face in his free hand while the other teased your pussy, bringing his masked face close to yours like he was getting an up close look at your expression. “Hmm, no,” he murmured, pinning you against the tree with his hand on your face. “You don’t sound nearly desperate enough just yet, angel,” he said and you could hear the evil smirk in his voice.
Your protest died on your lips as he let go of your face, shifting your leg up his waist so he could dig something out of his pocket. “I think we should record this, don’t you?” he asked, but your pleasure-soaked brain was taking too long to understand his meaning. He pulled out a phone and opened the camera, flicking the flash on. The bright light shone in your eyes for a second before he moved it down your body to where his glove-covered fingers were still teasing your pussy.
Awareness prickled across your skin at the realization he was taking a video of what he was doing to you. It occurred to you that you could use your safe word, but when you looked down, you could see his fingers playing with your pussy on the screen and it looked hot, the sight making your clit throb in pleasure. You liked being recorded, liked the way it made you feel desired and on display. Rolling your hips against Ghostface’s fingers, you watched the motion on the camera and groaned, head thrown back against the tree.
After teasing you for what felt like forever, Ghostface finally slid one of his thick fingers into your tight hole, making you moan loudly. Your fingers scrabbled at the tree, trying to cling to something while he finally pressed inside your pussy. “You’re gonna beg so sweetly for my cock, angel,” he promised in a harsh, almost distracted voice as he stared down at the camera, watching his finger slide in and out of your channel on the phone. “And I want to save it so we can rewatch it over and over and over again.” He punctuated his words with short, quick thrusts of his finger, making you cry out.
“Please,” you begged, needing more than one finger, wanting to feel stretched out by his cock, but unable to form the words as he fucked you. It was so good but not nearly enough, and yet, you could feel an orgasm building slowly in your core.
“Fuck, you’re soaked, angel,” Ghostface groaned, fucking you harder with his finger. “Can you hear the sounds your pussy is making for me while I fingerfuck your sloppy wet cunt?”
Of course you could hear it. “Yes,” you groaned, a little humiliation mixing with the ruthless pleasure he was giving you as your body told him exactly how turned on you were. Even with your heart pounding in your chest and Ghostface’s harsh breathing in his mask, you could hear the lewd sounds of his finger pumping in and out of your dripping hole. He fucked you faster, and the sounds only grew louder, his palm slapping against your wet folds, the heel of his hand striking your clit with sharp little smacks. “More, please,” you begged on a strangled sob.
“Mmm, that’s it angel, beg for me,” he urged, shoving a second finger in your pussy, drawing a ragged moan from you. Your head thrashed side to side against the tree trunk at your back, your hips writhing against his fingers.
“Please, please, please,” you chanted in rhythm with his thrusts, his two fingers almost enough but not quite. You could feel yourself hurtling toward the edge, you just needed a little more.
Ghostface seemed to know exactly what you needed and when he stuffed a third finger in your tight hole, making you stretch around him, your back arched and the most debauched sound you’d ever heard left your own lips. He made a pleased sound.
“Good girl, angel, take my fingers,” he praised, his voice raspy and muffled through the Ghostface mask. “Need to stretch you out so you’re ready for my cock,” he continued, almost as if to himself. When you glanced at him, his face was pointed down, like his eyes were transfixed on the sight of his three fingers pumping in and out of your tight channel on the phone screen. “Don’t wanna hurt my pretty little fucktoy before I’ve even had a chance to use her properly.”
“Oh god, fuck,” you groaned at his filthy words and the way he was so consumed with your body. Your desire flared hot at the way he talked about you like you weren’t even there. Something about being so thoroughly used hit you with a staggering wave of pleasure. All of a sudden, you were on the precipice of your release. “Gonna come,” you murmured. Through slitted eyes, you tracked the movement of the cell phone flash panning up your body to your face. You let your need shine through your expression, eyes looking into the light as you begged, “Please make me come.”
“That’s my girl, begging like such a good fucking slut,” he praised, fucking you harder with his fingers and drawing more moans from your lips, one tumbling after the other. “Come all over this stranger’s fingers like the filthy fucking slut you are.”
Something about the way he said the word ‘stranger’ had alarm bells going off in your head, but they were distant with your mind too consumed by the pleasure he was giving you. You were too focused on chasing your release, a whine rising in your throat as your arms braced against the tree and you fucked yourself on his fingers. You were so close.
“Take my mask off,” Ghostface grunted, but you couldn’t hear him over your moaning and panting. So he tried again, his voice louder and firmer with the command. “Take my mask off, angel—I want you to know exactly whose fingers you’re coming on."
The alarm bells were louder now, trying to warn you about something, but you still couldn’t be bothered to care too much. With fumbling, eager hands, you curled your fingers around the edges of the Ghostface mask. You pulled the mask and hood off, letting it drop to the forest floor with a muffled thud. A loud, sharp gasp left your lips before it even landed on the ground.
“STEVE!?” you cried in confusion, only vaguely aware of the camera recording your reaction. You were shocked by the sight of your friend’s handsome face, his blue eyes shining bright and wild in the moonlight, his full lips twisted up into a smug smirk. His usually neat blond hair was messy from the mask, and for some reason, that was the detail you focused on. You’d never seen him without perfectly combed and styled hair. To see him so disheveled sent heat and desire curling through your body, your pussy clamping down on his fingers like you didn’t want to let him go.
Steve only allowed you a moment to absorb the information it was him who’d lured you into the woods to fingerfuck you against a tree. In the next heartbeat, your friend shoved his three fingers ruthlessly into your cunt, his thumb circling your clit. A feral grin pulled across his face as he watched you come apart.
It was all too much. You’d already been dangling on the brink of your release and the shock of finding your friend beneath the Ghostface mask mixed with the pleasure he mercilessly delivered to your body, sent you flying over the edge. Your head thumped against the tree and your lips opened wide on a scream as you came all over Steve’s fingers.
“Good girl, being so fucking good for me, angel,” Steve murmured as he fucked you through your orgasm, stretching his arm holding the phone so the camera could capture both your face and his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. He widened his fingers even as your walls clamped down on him, making you stretch around him. “Your pussy feels so fucking good coming all over my fingers—never felt anything so fucking sweet.”
Lost to the feeling of your ebbing orgasm, all you could do was moan for Steve, his praising words sparking a new kind of heat, this one in your chest as your heart squeezed. You didn’t know if you liked his dirty talk or his sweet words better and a small part of you worried he was going to ruin you for all other men if he kept treating you like the most precious thing in the world and a filthy slut. “Steve,” you murmured, hands finding his chest and sliding up to wrap around his shoulders. You wanted him closer, needed him closer.
Steve must’ve understood what you meant because the bright light from the flash disappeared and in the next moment he was dropping your leg to the ground and gathering you up against his chest. He held you tight, easing you away from the tree and further into the clearing. With gentle but firm hands, Steve sat you down on the blankets on the ground, helping you take off your angel wings so you could lay down. He covered your body with his, holding you while you caught your breath.
Though your breathing was evening out, your mind was racing, processing the fact that your friend—polite, golden boy Steve Rogers—had been the man under the Ghostface mask. It didn’t seem possible. You’d known Steve for years. You’d given him sign after sign after sign you wanted more from him, all of which he’d completely ignored.
When he’d taken you as his date to his boss’s wedding, and you’d seen how deliciously hot he’d looked in his suit, you’d practically thrown yourself into his arms, feeling up his hard chest through his shirt and jacket. The whole night, you’d dropped every hint you could think of, short of trying to grab his cock through his dress pants. He’d still escorted you home and dropped you off at your door with a respectful kiss on your cheek. The fact that he’d fingerfucked you up against a tree in the woods behind Sam’s Halloween party just didn’t make sense.
“Steve?” you whispered his name, confusion coloring your tone. You pushed against your friend’s chest until he rolled to the side, stretching out next to you on the blankets.
His face was guarded, lips pressed into an impassive line and blue eyes wary as he watched your expression. But there was a wildness in his features you’d never seen before. Something he must’ve kept on a tight leash and buried so you’d never see it. All of a sudden, you were angry. You were furious that he’d kept this side of himself from you. All you could think about were all the orgasms you’d missed out on while he’d been busy pretending to be the golden boy gentleman.
“What the fuck was that, Steve?” you demanded, sitting up and pushing at his chest when he tried to rise up next to you, forcing him back on his elbows. “What the fuck was that, huh? Huh?” You punctuated your angry questions with more shoves to Steve’s chest.
With ease, he caught your wrists in one of his hands, holding you captive so he was able to finally sit up. Your friend loomed over you, blocking out the full moon in the sky. His blue eyes raked over your expression, and you squirmed beneath his stare, heat flooding your core. Steve’s gaze dropped down, catching the little wiggle of your hips and a dangerous grin spread slowly across his face.
“Oh, angel,” Steve murmured in a low, sinful voice as he dragged his eyes back up your body, lingering on the way your thin white dress clung to the curves of your tits. “That was just the beginning.” His blue gaze pierced your own, and you swore could feel the promise in his answer shoot directly to your clit, making it pulse with need.
You didn’t have time to ponder how your friend was able to make your pussy throb with some innocuous words and a look because in the next breath, Steve pushed you back down into the blankets, pinning your hands above your head while he groped your tits roughly with his free hand.
“God, your fucking tits, angel,” Steve groaned. He ducked his head down to suck your nipple into his mouth through your dress, getting the fabric wet so that when he moved to the other, it was left tortured by the combination of the damp satin and the cool night air. He did the same to your other nipple, every bite and lick and pull of his lips on your sensitive peaks shooting straight down to your clit. “So soft and perfect,” he murmured against your skin like he was talking to himself.
Your hips bucked in the air against nothing, seeking the friction your body so desperately craved. A whine wrenched free from your lips. You couldn’t believe how needy you were already, after the knee-shaking orgasm Steve had already given you, but you felt insatiable with your friend’s hands on your body. “Steve, please,” you begged, unsure what you were even pleading for.
Steve grinned against your chest, looking up at you from under thick, dark lashes. “You’re getting the hang of that, angel,” he commented in a casual voice. At your look of confusion, his grin broadened. “Begging.”
Rising up, Steve held you pinned to the blankets with his hand and his gaze as he reached his other hand up to his mouth. His caught the edge of his glove between his teeth and pulled it off, the sight of it making you pant with need. It shouldn’t have been so hot to watch your friend take his glove off, but it was. Then he was sliding his bare hand down your body and under your dress, finding you drenched again—with your first release and your renewed desire.
You squirmed, your pussy still sensitive even as your body begged for more. When Steve dragged the rough pad of his finger over your clit, all you could do was let out a gasping moan. Your hands tugged against his grip, instinctively wanting to push him away from your oversensitive bud.
For his part, Steve seemed to be barely paying you any mind, his warm fingers sliding against your swollen flesh slowly like he was taking his time to explore you. “Fuck, I’ve dreamed about this pussy for years, angel,” Steve admitted, his gaze fixed wholly on the juncture of your thighs. “I’d lay awake and jerk off to you when you were sleeping right next to me, thinking about what it would feel like to sink my cock into this sweet cunt.” Possessiveness shone bright in Steve’s eyes in the moonlight, making you shiver. “Used to fuck my hand while you were right there, thinking about how wet you’d be for me—and look at you now, angel, fucking soaking my fingers like a good little slut.”
Anger swirled in your chest, battling the pleasure consuming your core, and eventually won out, driving you to speak. “Why didn’t you fuck me then?” you demanded in the same harsh tone you’d used before. That finally pulled Steve’s attention away from your pussy. “I was wet and willing and right fucking there, Steve, why didn’t you fuck me?”
His fingers paused as he stared at you like he’d been struck dumb, but the expression was quickly washed away, frustration replacing it. “I didn’t want to be a creep,” he ground out through gritted teeth. “I didn’t know you wanted me to fuck you.”
“God, Steve, why did you think I asked you to cuddle with me?” your voice was rising as your frustration matched his, all the time you’d lost to Steve being unable to read a simple signal pressing down on your chest, your heart beating for all the time you’d lost with him. “I shoved my ass against your cock how many times, hoping you’d take a fucking hint—but you never did!”
A growling roar ripped free from Steve, the sound barely human, before he dove on top of you, his arms digging under your back to hold you so tight, it forced the breath from your lungs. In the next instant, your friend’s lips crashed against yours. The kiss wasn’t sweet or gentle, it was rough and dirty as Steve poured all his months and years of frustration into you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and taking possession. But you met him with all your own frustration, your freed hands digging into his messy blond hair and clinging to the soft strands like only god himself would be able to make you let him go.
Steve trailed his lips down your jaw, then your neck, licking and sucking on your skin hard enough you knew he was going to leave marks, but you didn’t care. You twisted your fingers in his hair and clutched him close to your body, not wanting to let him get too far away. But you needed more, you needed all of him, you needed him to fill you up until he was buried deep inside you. “Steve, please—please,” you begged in a ragged whisper.
Instead of responding with words, though, Steve growled and yanked the front of your dress down to expose your tits, the force of his hand too much for the thin straps and they tore easily. A shocked gasp fell from your lips as your nipples were exposed to the night air, but you couldn’t care less about your cheap dress when Steve descended on your tits, sucking and biting your nipples until you were writhing beneath him, feeling every sting of his teeth like a pulse in your clit.
Frustrated by his lack of attention to your pussy, you snaked a hand down between your legs, managing to circle your poor neglected clit once before Steve’s hand closed around your wrist and he pulled you away with an angry growl. You whimpered as your pussy throbbed with need, looking up at Steve with pleading eyes as he shifted to kneel between your spread thighs. He dropped your hand at your side as if it offended him and you fisted your hands in the blankets to stop yourself from reaching for your needy clit again.
“Let’s get one thing straight, angel,” he said, before tugging his other glove off with his teeth so his bare hand could slip down between your legs, shoving three fingers into your tight hole without preamble. Your back arched up off the blankets and a desperate cry fell from your mouth. “This pussy might be between your legs,” he started, hooking his fingers inside you and pressing against a spot that had you seeing stars behind your eyelids. “But it belongs to me.” He growled, widening his fingers and forcing you to stretch around him, your eyes popping open and going wide as you stared up at him. “Do you understand?” His blue eyes were wild in the moonlight as he stared down at you.
Nodding your head quickly, you had to swallow to get your tongue to work again. “Yes, Steve,” you answered, gasping for air while he stretched you out around his fingers. The stretch stung a little but it felt good to be filled up, even if what you really wanted was his cock. “My pussy belongs to you.”
An evil smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s lips as he stared down at you, squirming under his hands. He shook his head slowly and for a moment you were confused. “Don’t say ‘my’ when it’s not yours, angel,” Steve corrected you.
At your enthusiastic nod, he grinned and bent down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, like a reward for being good for him. When he sat back up, his free hand held the phone he’d used to record you up against the tree. Your pussy clenched at the thought of being recorded again, splayed out on the blankets in the middle of the woods, your dress torn to reveal your tits and the bottom scrunched up around your waist. Though you couldn’t see it, you were sure your hair was a mess and you could feel your headband and the halo askew on your head. Altogether, you knew you looked like a slut and the thought of having it documented for Steve to look at later made your skin tingle and heat all over.
He swiped the camera open and the flash went on, making you wince at the bright light in the darkness. “I want to hear you say it for the camera, angel,” Steve said as he held the phone close to his chest, angling it so he was able to get your face and pussy in the shot. “Who does this pussy belong to?”
With the knowledge that Steve would be watching this later, you were struck with the impulse to perform for the camera. So you stared up into the lens with hooded eyes and you let pleasure soak your voice as you spoke. “This pussy belongs to Steven Grant Rogers,” you declared, spreading your thighs even wider for both Steve and the camera.
“Good girl,” Steve praised, making you smile dreamily. Your hips wriggled, trying to urge his fingers to move and give you some of the friction you desperately needed. But Steve had other ideas. He rotated his hand, his fingers still stuffed deep in your channel and making you cry out at the sensation. He pressed his thumb against the rosebud of your ass. “And who does this ass belong to?” he asked, blue eyes glittering with desire behind the glare of the flash.
Your chest heaved as you panted. For how much of a slut you liked to be, planning to pick up a guy at your friend’s Halloween party, you’d never taken anyone in your ass before. You’d never even really explored it much, except an experimental finger once by yourself, finding it to be weird, thought not entirely unpleasant. But as your hands clawed at the blankets with need and Steve pressed against your tight little hole, sending pulses of delicious pleasure through your body, you thought you might just let your friend be the first to fuck your ass.
“Steve,” you gasped out, your brain shorting out a little bit at the feel of his fingers buried inside your pussy and nudging against your rosebud. “This ass belongs to Steve Rogers.” You looked him dead in the eye when you spoke your next words. “All these holes belong to Steve Rogers.”
“Fuck,” Steve grunted, giving you a couple sloppy thrusts of his fingers in reward, dragging a rough moan from your lips. He watched you squirm on the phone screen, reveling in the way you responded to his touch. “Beg for my cock, angel, beg and I’ll give it to you,” he promised in a low, alluring voice. The permission in his command, like he was offering you an outlet for the desire that was building up inside you. It was all you needed to loosen your tongue.
“God, Steve, I need your cock, need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, staring up into the camera as your hands fisted in the blankets, the heels of your mary janes digging into the ground so you could lift your hips and fuck yourself on his fingers. Your lust only grew, gathering in your body like an impending storm, and your voice turned pleading with a whine as you got needier. “Please fuck this pussy with your huge cock, pound into this tight little hole until I’m screaming for you, Steve, please—please!”
“That’s my girl, that’s my fucking girl,” Steve praised, pulling his fingers from your sopping wet pussy. He shoved them in your mouth and you sucked greedily, eyes slipping closed as you delighted in the taste of your arousal on his hand. You licked them clean under the bright light of the camera’s flash and once you were done, Steve bent down to kiss you fiercely. His tongue swept into your mouth to taste you on your lips, groaning into you. Your fingers dug into his hair to hold him close, but he wrenched himself away, grinning cheekily down at you as he sat up.
Steve reached down to the belt buckle at the front of his dark jeans, pulling his belt free with a rasping sound that had you trying to clench your thighs closed to relieve the ache in your clit. But Steve shook his head. He pulled his zipper down slowly, teasingly, and you were practically vibrating with anticipation. When you tried to reach down and help him, he growled a soft, “No,” shaking his head again. Finally, he reached into his jeans and pulled his cock free.
A gasp escaped your lips and your jaw went slack at the sight of your friend’s cock. You knew he was big, you’d felt him harden against your ass enough times on his couch to know that much, but seeing him in all his glory was another thing entirely. Steve’s cock was thick, his own fingers barely meeting as he fisted his dick and stroked up the length. You could feel your pussy gush with even more wetness as you stared at Steve’s cock, eying the veins running up the length to a wide mushroom tip. Almost dazedly, you reached down, wanting to see how big he looked with your smaller hand wrapped around his girth.
Steve batted your hand away before fisting his dick again and pressing the tip to your tiny hole. With his other hand, he held the phone closer to where your bodies met, getting a closer shot of his cock resting on your pussy. He looked so fucking big, you didn’t know how he could possibly fit, but in the same breath you wanted him to make it fit inside your tight channel. You wanted him to fuck you hard and rough until you were screaming yourself raw like he’d promised.
You wanted him to put it in already, but he didn’t, just held your wriggling hips down while he slid his hard length against your drenched folds, getting the full length soaked in your arousal before settling his dick between your spread thighs. He paused, gritting his teeth, and you watched his jaw tic as he stared at the phone screen, transfixed by the sight of his big cock against your pussy. He stopped recording and pressed his fists into the blanket on either side of your shoulders as he leaned over you, looking down into your face.
“If you want me to wear a condom, you better tell me now,” he bit out through barely leashed need. When his blue eyes met yours, they were practically wild with desire.
It stole your breath, the way Steve stared at you like you were his entire world. But you shook your head as you looked up at him. “I don’t have one,” you murmured. You hadn’t had anywhere to keep it in your dress, so you’d given it to Kate to hold in her pocket, planning to snag it from her once you’d found a guy to take upstairs. But, of course, Steve had taken you outside and you’d been too curious and turned on by the stranger in the Ghostface mask to stop him so you could track down your friend.
Steve’s blue eyes flared with hunger and a little big of anger—but the anger seemed to win out. “What were you gonna do if the guy you picked up didn’t have one, angel?” he demanded, in a harsh voice. “You were gonna let some random stranger fuck you with his bare cock?” he asked, leaning over you so his face was hovering above yours. Anger and a little bit of fear swirled in his bright blue eyes. “You were gonna let some fucking guy raw you—you were gonna risk him knocking you up?”
The way he spoke to you, the way he was looking at you, all you could think was that Steve was glorious with fury contorting his handsome face into something feral. It occurred to you that you should be scared, that you could use your safe word—or you could explain that Kate had the protection you’d brought to the party—but all you felt was need. It was almost overwhelming how much you wanted Steve in that moment, your pussy flooding, your desire for him consuming you and holding your tongue. All you could do was stare up at your friend with a dazed look on your face.
When you didn’t respond or defend yourself, Steve tsked at you, shaking his head. He wrangled his anger under control with some visible effort, shoving a hand through his hair, making the blond strands even messier. “So fucking irresponsible, angel,” he admonished, his breathing heavy. Even at those chastising words, your need only flared hotter. “Well if you were happy to let a random stranger fuck you raw then you won’t mind if I do, huh?” he asked, his intense gaze reading your expression as he spoke, gauging your reaction to his words. “If you’re gonna get knocked up tonight, it’s gonna be by me.”
A jolt of need pulsed through your body straight to your core, your inner walls clenching pathetically around nothing, begging to be filled. You moaned loudly at Steve’s words and their effect on you. You wanted him so badly you finally remembered how to speak. “Please Steve, fuck me bare,” you begged. “Knock me up, I don’t care, just fuck me—please!” You were so desperate, tears were stinging your eyes and your hips were bucking up in the air, pussy sliding against his cock.
For a moment, Steve just stared at you, his hard jaw slack and his blue eyes dazed in the moonlight as if he were shocked by how much you seemed to want him and the filthy things he said. Then he seemed to snap out of whatever trance your words had put him in and he tilted his head back, squeezing his eyes closed while his hands gripped your thighs hard. He groaned up into the sky, sounding almost tortured.
“Fuck, angel,” he grunted, dragging his head up so he could stare down at you. “Such a filthy fucking slut begging me to knock you up—then you’d really be mine, wouldn’t you?” he asked, his voice so fucking eager. Your heart beat wildly, matching his enthusiasm.
Steve fisted his cock in one hand, lining it up at your entrance and teasing you by pushing the rounded tip against your little hole. “Is that what you want, want to be all fucking mine?” he asked, a feral grin curling the edges of his mouth as he caught your eye. “Want me to tattoo ‘Property of Steve Rogers’ over this cunt?” Still holding your gaze captive with his own, he brought his thick cock down on your clit, giving it a hard smack and making you jerk as pleasure and a tiny bit of pain surged through you.
He chuckled darkly at your reaction, then refocused on where his cock pressed against your hole. He pushed until the broad head slipped inside your dripping pussy, your walls stretching and enveloping him, drawing ragged moans from both of you. “Let’s see you try to pick up other guys with my name branded on your skin,” he muttered almost as if to himself, gritting his teeth as he slowly pushed deeper, making you take inch after inch of his thick cock.
“Oh god, Steve, fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” you babbled, his possessive words making you moan almost as much as the feel of him stretching your tight hole. Maybe it was the way it felt like he was reconstructing you, altering your body to fit himself inside, but the thought of having his name branded on you didn’t sound half bad. It was possessive, but in that moment you wanted to be possessed. “Never knew you could be like this, never knew you could fuck me like this,” you confessed, staring up into Steve’s face. His expression contorted in determination and you cried out when he shoved the last few inches of his cock into your pussy.
“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, angel,” he growled in your ear, not giving you any time to adjust to the feel of him filling you up before he was pulling out and pumping his thick cock back into you. “And I’m the only one who’s gonna be fucking you from now on, right angel?” He punctuated his question with a rough thrust, the tip of his cock battering the end of you, making you squirm and writhe, but Steve just pinned you down harder on the blankets with his hips.
Your thighs were splayed wide, riding up the sides of his body while you clung to his shoulders, one hand buried in his blond hair and the other fisting in his black t-shirt. You felt ruined, he’d ruined you and he’d barely even started to fuck you. “Yes—god yes, Steve, only you,” you answered easily, knowing no one else would ever be able to fuck you the way your friend could. “Do whatever you want with my body, it’s yours, all of it—every hole, every inch is yours.”
A pleased grin pulled up the corners of Steve’s mouth and when he kissed you, you could feel it against your lips before he sank into you. The sweep of his tongue in your mouth was possessive and you melted into him, loving the feel of him claiming you with his lips. When he pulled away, he dropped a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth and only then did you realize you were smiling, so happy to be his.
Steve thrust into you hard, and your mouth fell open around a loud moan. “That’s my girl, such a sweet little slut,” he mumbled as he sat up on his knees. From beside you, Steve snatched up the phone and he swiped to the camera, holding the device above your body and angling it to get all of you in the shot.
For a moment, you were puzzled when the flash didn’t turn on, but you didn’t have long to ponder it when he was working your body so expertly. Your friend pulled his cock out slowly, dragging his thickness against your stretched walls, making you feel every inch of him. Without warning, Steve thrust back inside, filling you up with a quick, brutal stroke. Your spine curved and your eyes rolled back in your head as your lips parted in a lusty moan. Distractedly, you were aware of a quick flash of light.
When you settled, as much as you could with his giant cock stuffed so deep in your pussy you felt like you could feel him in your stomach, you looked up at Steve. He wore an eager grin. “See how pretty you look stretched out and cock-drunk for me,” he said, turning the phone so you could see the photo he’d taken.
There you were, and you looked positively debauched. Your legs were spread wide and forced open around Steve’s strong thighs, your pussy stretched wide around his thick cock. He’d caught you at the exact right moment and your body was arched up toward the sky, your tits bared and nipples peaked. But it was your face that really conveyed how much pleasure you were in in that moment—your mouth was slack, your tongue nearly hanging out over your bottom lip and your eyes were rolled back in your head so only the whites were visible. It was easily the most sensual photo that had ever been taken of you and you loved it, your eyes looking at it greedily as your pussy gushed with more arousal.
Too soon, Steve turned the phone back to himself, and you could see the same hunger in his blue gaze as he stared at the photo. He loved it just as much as you did, maybe even more. “Look so hot, angel, such a pretty little fucktoy,” he murmured. Then his gaze fixed on you, spread out beneath him and he tilted his head to the side as if considering something.
You squirmed, wanting him to move, but also wanting to know what he was thinking. Whatever it was, you already knew you’d agree. You’d agree to anything Steve said or asked you to do if it meant he’d fuck you with that big cock of his.
“Should I send this to Bucky, angel?” he asked, and you froze. Steve’s eyes were bright and intense as he watched you for your reaction.
Of all the things you’d thought he might say, that wasn’t one of them. Since entering the woods with Steve, you’d forgotten Bucky even existed and you couldn’t believe you’d considered letting him fuck you instead of your closest guy friend. You felt a little ashamed at how you’d almost thrown yourself at the brown-haired man and you felt your face flush with heat.
“He told me how needy you were acting with him, how you practically humped his leg in the kitchen,” Steve said in a conversational tone and you stared at him hard. For how possessive he’d acted, you expected him to be angry and jealous, but he just seemed amused. He must’ve seen your confusion written all over your face because he grinned and explained. “I know how he looks at you, angel, I know he’d love to get inside your sweet little pussy.” Steve placed his free hand down over your pelvis, the gesture so fucking possessive it took your breath away. “But I also know he wouldn’t touch you without my permission.”
You shivered at the certainty in Steve’s voice, goosebumps rising all over your skin at the implication of his words. Not only had he and his best friend both talked about how much they wanted to fuck you, but Steve had wanted you enough to lay claim to you to his friends. It was in that moment you realized this was far more than a one night stand to Steve and you immediately felt relieved. If he was telling his friends to back off, he wanted more and you decided you were only too happy to give him more.
Steve was grinning down at you as he watched you process what he’d told you, going on when it seemed he had your attention again. “Bucky was nice enough to help me set all this up and get you out here,” Steve explained, gesturing around at the blankets in the woods. “I think he deserves a little thank you, don’t you? Should we show him exactly how much of a needy little slut you are, letting me raw you in the woods?” There was a teasing curve to Steve’s grin, like he didn’t expect you to say yes.
But, for how long you and Steve had been friends, he didn’t know everything about you, and he clearly didn’t anticipate how his words, his suggestion, would make you burn with need. The thought of him telling his friends not to touch you because you were his before he’d even had you was hot enough, but the idea of him rubbing it in Bucky’s face by sending his best friend the photo he’d taken of you fucked out on his cock was even hotter. “Do it,” you said, looking Steve dead in the eye. “This body is yours, Steve, if you want to share it with Bucky, then do it.”
Steve’s face went slack with surprise and it was his turn to freeze. His face was still except for his eyes, which raced around your expression, trying to gauge if you were serious or not. After a moment, as if he came to a decision, he ordered, “Remind me of your safe word, angel.”
You titled your head in confusion but replied obediently. “Sidney.” Then you pressed your lips into a firm line and raised an eyebrow in a challenge.
Leaning down over you, Steve kissed your lips until you relented, melting under him. When he pulled away, he didn’t go far, pressing his forehead to yours and looking you in the eye. “You can use it at any time about anything,” he reminded you. “If you don’t like something I say or something I say I’m going to do, you have to promise me you’ll use it."
Pouting, you said, “I’m not gonna use it, Steve.” When you lifted up, trying to capture his lips in another kiss, he backed off and you whined softly. “Fuck, just send the photo to Bucky,” you muttered exasperatedly, flopping back on the blankets. “I want you to—the thought of him seeing me stuffed full of your cock makes me so wet,” you groaned, your pussy clenching down on his thick length.
Steve’s hips rutted into you reflexively, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to still. “You’re not thinking straight, you’re thinking with your pussy,” he accused through his clenched jaw, the words coming out harsh.
You bucked your hips, fucking yourself on his cock for a few strokes before he settled his weight more firmly on top of you, pinning you to the blankets. “How is this different to me telling you to raw me?” you demanded, getting more and more frustrated with every moment he spent not fucking you. “Sending a pic of me to Bucky is less risky, if you think about it.”
Expression contorting into one of irritation, Steve stared down at you. “You think I’d actually risk knocking you up?” he asked, but didn’t give you time to answer before he went on. “I know you’re on birth control because you complained about it to me—you also told me when you got tested after your last partner and were relieved it came back all good.” His blue eyes were wild with frustration as he looked at you. “I’m your friend, remember?”
Tears swam in your eyes at the realization Steve had been listening to you more closely than you realized. When you grabbed his face and pulled him down for a fierce kiss, he let you. He let you apologize with your lips for a moment before he took over, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and tangling with yours at the same time he rolled his hips against you. You moaned into his mouth, wrenching away to pant at the feel of his thick cock stretching you. “Steve!” you cried on a gasp.
He grinned and kissed you once more before leaning up and grabbing the phone. He held it up to your face and said, “Look at the phone, angel.” When you did, the screen lit up and unlocked. For a stunned second you thought he’d somehow added your face ID to his phone, but then the home screen appeared and you realized it was your phone. Steve had been using your phone the whole time, recording you to your own camera roll. He’d only be able to see the videos and photos again if you sent them to him. Your jaw dropped a little at the realization, your heart warming and clenching in your chest.
Steve didn’t seem to notice your reaction as he navigated to the camera roll. “I’m sending the photo to myself so I can make it my background,” he said, but looked to you, only doing what he said when you nodded. “We’ll talk about Bucky later,” he promised, before tossing the phone down on the blanket next to you and covering you with his body, his cock sinking deeper into your pussy.
“Please, Steve, I need you to fuck me,” you begged, your legs wrapping around his waist as much as possible while you clung to his shoulders, holding him down on top of you.
His hips gave a short thrust and you both groaned. “Fuck, you feel so good on my cock, angel,” he muttered, his hands digging under your body and gripping your ass in his big palms, fingers digging into your soft flesh. “So fucking tight and perfect—like you were made to take my cock.” His hands kneaded your ass as he fucked you, grunting with the effort while you sighed beneath him. When you felt his middle finger press against the tight rosebud of your ass, you jerked a little and he grinned down at you. “You gonna let me fuck this ass one day, angel?”
Again, you marveled at how strange, yet oddly good it felt to feel Steve press against your tight hole. It took you a moment to gather your thoughts enough to speak. “Never done that before,” you confessed, catching his eye and letting him see how wild he made you. “But yes, Steve, I want you to fuck my ass.”
The grin that pulled across Steve’s face was salacious, taking all the heat out of his tone when he tsked at you. “There you go again saying this ass is yours when we both know it belongs to me, don’t we, angel?” He raised his eyebrows and you bit your lip, trying to look chastened when you just wanted to grin right back at him. “I forgive you though,” he said, dropping a kiss on your nose. “Since you’re gonna let me be your first.” He slanted his lips against yours and gave you a deep, heady kiss, that left you dizzy and reeling.
You still hadn’t recovered when Steve was leaning up and dragging his cock free of your pussy. With gentle but strong hands, Steve flipped you over onto your stomach, manhandling you into position, pulling you up onto your knees. Before you even realized what he was doing, Steve had you face down and ass up. In the next moment, he shoved his dick back in your dripping wet slit, making you moan loudly with your cheek pressed into the blankets.
Steve bent over your back and ran his thumb along your lower lip. “Open up, angel,” he murmured. You obeyed immediately, taking his finger into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it, pulling a groan from deep in his chest. “Get it nice and wet,” he urged in a deep rumbling tone. With his chest pressed against your back, you could feel his warmth sinking into your skin even through his t-shirt and the remnants of your dress. “We’ll need to start getting you ready if you’re gonna take my cock anytime soon.”
Excitement had your pussy clenching down on Steve’s cock—you were just as eager as he was. Everything your friend had done to you had felt amazing and you were sure Steve would make stretching out your tight ass feel just as good. Smiling around Steve’s thumb, you did as he said, letting saliva pool in your mouth and using your tongue to get his finger totally wet. All the while, Steve thrust lazily into your cunt, not hard or fast enough to be driving either of you to release, but enough to keep a low heat simmering in your body and lighting up your limbs.
When Steve was satisfied with how wet you’d gotten his thumb, he pulled it out, giving you a smacking kiss on the cheek, and then sat up. “Hold yourself open for me, angel,” he ordered in a gravelly voice, still managing to soften the command with a sweetness that was all Steve. It helped that there was a thread of excitement in his tone that matched the feeling thrumming through your veins.
Reaching around behind you, you grabbed an ass cheek in each hand, spreading yourself obscenely for your friend. Steve’s cock managed to slip into your pussy another little bit, hitting a spot deep inside you that made you shriek into the blankets. With your hands on your ass, the side of your face was smashed into the blankets and you were thankful Steve had piled them thickly enough you didn’t feel any rocks or anything underneath.
“Good girl,” Steve murmured, holding his cock still inside you. Over your shoulder, you heard him spit and a second later felt the warmth of his saliva hitting the crack of your ass, sliding down over your rosebud and to your slit. Steve circled his thumb around your hole, using both of your spit as lubrication to press his finger against you. When the tight ring of muscle didn’t give, Steve murmured in a soothing rumble, “Relax, angel, relax for me, let me in.”
You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the blankets—they smelled like Steve. Not like the scent of the woods and earth that clung to him tonight, but like clean laundry and fresh air. They smelled like Steve when you were on his couch, perfectly relaxed in the circle of his arms. It was easy to calm yourself when you were surrounded by the comforting smell of your friend, and when he was being so careful with you at the same time he was talking to you and fucking you like a dirty slut. Focusing on your ass, you relaxed yourself, letting your body unclench and open up for him.
Steve pushed the tip of his thumb past the tight ring of muscle, wringing a jagged, broken moan from your lips. Your fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass so you wouldn’t let go. He didn’t stop to let you get used to the feeling of his thumb breaching your ass, but took his time as he pressed deeper and deeper. He only stopped once his thumb was fully lodged in your hole. His other four fingers splayed across your lower back as he held you possessively, his thumb hooked inside you.
You felt so full, almost overwhelmingly so, and that was just his thumb. It felt good, deliciously dirty even, but with how much a single finger stretched your tiny hole, you had serious concerns about whether Steve would ever be able to fit his cock inside you there. But you didn’t have time to worry about that because Steve pressed his thumb down against the thin membrane separating his finger from his cock, drawing an obscene moan from your mouth.
“Ya like that, angel?” he asked teasingly. His voice was slightly breathless, and you could hear his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, like he was trying to hold himself back. “Like feeling me fill up both these holes?” He pushed deeper with both his cock and thumb at the same time, making you scream at the feel of both intrusions hitting as deep as they could go.
“Yes, god Steve, fuck, so good,” you babbled, your mind going blank at the feel of Steve inside your pussy and ass. It was all you could do to arch your back and hold yourself spread open for him, eager to feel everything he could give you. “I can’t—I didn’t know—fuck, please give it to me, Steve, please, I need—fuck me, please,” you begged, almost incoherent on his cock and finger. The way he filled you up was almost too much, more than you’d ever felt before with another partner or yourself, but the edge he forced you to walk felt so fucking good. You couldn’t believe you’d misjudged Steve so badly, that you’d thought he was too much of a gentleman to give you the rough and dirty sex you craved, but he was exactly who you needed.
A dark chuckle rumbled up in Steve’s chest and poured past his lips, skating over your skin like the ghost of a caress. The sound was full of sin and promise and a little bit of awe, making you clench down on him with both holes. “And to think,” he began, pulling his cock out of your pussy oh so slowly to make sure you could feel how much bigger he felt with his thumb in your ass. “You scoffed at the thought of me being able to fuck you like the filthy little slut you are."
“Wh-what?” you mumbled. For one impossible second, you wondered if he’d somehow read your thoughts. The way he’d read your body all night and given you exactly what you needed made it seem kind of possible, though even your lust-drunk mind managed to bury that preposterous thought. You worried you’d accidentally spoken out loud, but it turned out it wasn’t either of those things.
“I heard you, angel,” Steve bit out in a gravelly tone, frustration lacing his deep voice. “I heard you on the phone with your friends when you were at my place last week,” he explained. “You told them you didn’t think I could fuck you like a slut, but I knew you were wrong.” He punctuated his last word by thrusting back inside your pussy, making you cry out and jerk forward on your knees. Steve hauled you back against him with a firm grip, driving himself so deep you could’ve sworn you could feel him in your throat.
You felt silly for a second. Of course he’d overheard you, you hadn’t been as sneaky as you could’ve been. If you were honest with yourself, you’d hoped he would overhear and do something about it. Even if you hadn’t been actively trying to tempt Steve with your words, a small part of you had hoped to elicit a reaction. It turned out it had worked, it’d just taken Steve a little longer—and a pair of hot Halloween costumes—to prove you wrong.
“So I figured,” Steve went on when you didn’t respond, setting a furious pace with his hips thrusting his cock into your needy pussy. Your moans were so loud and uninhibited, you almost didn’t hear what he said next. “Halloween is the perfect time for tricks, and I’ve earned a treat, don’t you think?” Steve gripped your hair with his free hand, yanking your head back.
With your hands still on your ass, you were completely at his mercy, and it felt fucking divine. All you could do was take Steve’s cock and listen to his words, and what he said next only drove your need to new heights.
“I’ve been such a good friend to you, angel, I deserve a little thank you—I deserve this,” he growled, shoving his big dick into your slick hole with a particularly rough thrust, making you shriek at the pleasure and pain of feeling him so deep. “Look at you,” he practically cooed. “Bent over for me, taking my cock and thumb in these tight little holes,” he said, pulling his thumb out and shoving it deep at the same time he thrust his cock inside. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth opened on a strangled scream. “And you’re enjoying it just as much as I am, like a good little slut.” He repeated the movement of thrusting both his thumb and cock into your holes, driving you wild with the sensations. “My good little slut.”
Your heart thumped at the possessiveness in Steve’s voice, but you didn’t have time to think about how far gone you already were for your friend, not when Steve was treating you like his own personal fucktoy and your mind was overloaded with pleasure. “Fuck, Steve fuck,” you babbled. His words made you so hot and you wanted to talk dirty to him right back. “You do deserve this,” you said between gasping moans. “You were so good to me, and I was so wrong thinking someone else could give me what I needed.” On one particularly brutal thrust, you let out a sob of pleasure, hardly aware of what you were saying, just knowing it felt right. “But they can’t, you’re the only one who deserves these holes—only you, Steve, only you!”
“That’s fucking right,” he growled, holding his thumb deep in your ass as his cock plunged into your pussy faster and faster. “You’ll never stick me in the friendzone again, will you angel?”
“Oh god, no, never,” you answered immediately, not even able to fathom going back to just being friends with Steve. If you had to fall asleep in his arms one more time without getting his cock deep in your cunt, you didn’t know what you’d do. You’d have to take matters into your own hands because now that you’d had his cock, you couldn’t imagine giving it up.
“You’re mine, isn’t that right, angel?” Steve bit out through gritted teeth as he fucked you. He was breathing heavily but his pace never slowed and you didn’t know how much more you could take, he was pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every thrust. “‘Property of Steve Rogers’?”
“Ye-es,” you agreed on a broken moan, needing to swallow past your dry, scratchy throat before you could say more. “Yours, Steve, tattoo it on my pussy so I’ll never forget,” you babbled, barely caring about what you were agreeing to, just knowing the dirty words made you hotter. “Please, Steve, you own me, I belong to you.”
“That’s my fucking girl,” Steve praised in a ragged voice. He drilled his cock into you fast and rough, his thumb still lodged as deep in your ass as it could go. “You’re mine and I can do whatever I want with your holes—maybe share you with Bucky, would you like that, angel?”
The thought of Steve and his best friend both fucking you at the same time nearly pushed you over the edge, but you held off, wanting to last as long as possible. You felt so good, you just wanted it to last forever. But Steve had burned into your brain the idea of being filled up by more than just Steve’s cock and thumb and it was all you could think about. “God, yes, yes, wanna be filled by two cocks,” you groaned, admitting your fantasy all too easily to your friend.
Steve only chuckled and the sound was pure sin. His hand gripping your hair pulled you back up from where you’d slumped down on the blankets so you were dangling over the soft surface. “Such a greedy little fucktoy, angel,” he admonished good-naturedly, the breathlessness in his voice the only indication of how your body and words were affecting him. But Steve proved once again he was exactly what you needed with his next filthy suggestion. “What if we ignored your sweet pussy, angel, what if I filled your ass while Bucky fucked your throat—would you still be just as eager for two cocks?”
His words only made you gush more, your wetness dripping down his cock to his balls as he pounded into you. “Yes,” you answered on a gasp. You were so close, you were pretty sure you’d agree to anything because everything Steve said sounded good to you. “Use any holes you want, just use me, fuck me, please, Steve,” you bit out around gasps and loud moans.
“Rub your clit,” Steve ordered in a jagged tone. “Rub your little clit so I can feel you come all over my cock like the filthy fucking slut you are.”
Immediately, you let go of your ass with one hand, eagerly sliding it around to your front to do as Steve said. You pressed tight little circles into your clit and, with how close to the edge you already were, it didn’t take long for the pleasure to push you right up to the precipice of your release. But it wasn’t until Steve growled out his next words that you fell over the edge.
“Come for me, angel, come for me,” he urged. His voice was low and sweet, with a hint of desperation that almost made it sound like he was begging. It was that thrum of neediness in your friend’s voice that did you in.
After everything Steve had said and done to you, his big cock pummeling your cunt and his thumb stretching out your ass, while he ordered you to rub your clit and practically begged you to come for him, it was all too much for you to take. You could feel your orgasm swell like a tidal wave inside you and, for just a second, you worried about the devastation it would have on your body, heart and soul. Then, with one last driving thrust of Steve’s cock, he sent you careening over the edge.
You came with a scream, the sound piercingly loud, splitting open the quiet of the woods and leaving your throat feeling raw. The pleasure swept over you, wiping away everything else until you didn’t know where you ended and Steve began. For a brief moment, it felt like you were floating in a sea of pleasure, weightless and surrounded by it. But then you crashed back into your body and you knew you’d never be the same, your arms and legs shaking hard as wave after wave of pleasure flowed through your limbs.
“Fuck, gripping me so tight, angel, ‘m gonna come,” Steve gritted out through clenched teeth, still thrusting into your spasming pussy, fucking you through your orgasm and drawing it out. “You feel so good coming on my cock.” Steve groaned, muttering, “Fuck, fuck.” His hips rutted against you in short, wild thrusts as he chased his own release, and he wasn’t far behind you. “Take my come, angel, take it—take it,” he demanded and with one last thrust, he shoved his cock deep in your pussy and came.
Steve let out a sound that was so animalistic, you didn’t know if you could call it a groan, but it was so dirty, it made your pussy clench down on his cock. Then you could feel his dick twitch in your cunt, his load spilling into you and filling you with warmth. You moaned, pushing back on his cock and trying to take him deeper, the feel of him pulsing deep inside your core feeding the delicious aftershocks of your own release. For long moments, you and Steve hung suspended together in your pleasure, riding out your orgasms together while his come leaked from your pussy and dripped down to the blankets beneath you.
Gently, Steve disentangled his hand from your hair, guiding your head down to the blankets. With the same tender care, he eased his thumb from your tight behind and pulled his cock out of your still fluttering channel. Before you could fall over, unable to hold yourself up with how boneless and satiated you felt, Steve helped you roll onto your side. He laid down behind you, wrapping his arms around you and gathering you against his chest while you curled up in his arms. He held you tightly as you both calmed down.
The night had turned a little chilly but you felt plenty warm in Steve’s arms. Still, you couldn’t relax fully when everything that had happened and been said between you and your friend kept replaying in your mind. “Steve?” you started in a tentative voice. Without being able to see his face, you didn’t know exactly how he felt about everything, but you needed to know. “If we’re not just friends anymore, what are we?”
Steve squeezed you tight with his arms, his faced buried in your neck. “Fuck, angel,” he mumbled on a deep exhale, his voice a little muffled, but you still heard him loud and clear. “I’m trying really hard not to beg you to marry me over here.”
Your heart surged with happiness and you giggled, the sound light as air. “I might say yes,” you whispered, your hands clinging to his arms around you like you worried he’d try to escape after your admission.
But Steve didn’t try to pull away, he only pressed his chest closer against your back, groaning loudly like you were killing him. “Don’t fucking say that if you don’t mean it, angel,” he warned.
Laughing so much your shoulders shook, you could feel the answering smile on Steve’s lips when he pressed a kiss to your neck. “I do seem to have a problem with agreeing to anything you want when you’re buried inside me, don’t I?” you asked teasingly.
“Mhmm,” Steve agreed with a rumbling sound, trailing little kisses up your neck until his mouth was right next to your ear. “Don’t worry, angel, I won’t hold you to any of those promises,” he assured you, his voice low and thrumming with happiness.
You hummed happily, the corners of your mouth pulling up in an evil grin as you said, “I don’t know, I think I might still get that ‘property of Steve Rogers’ tattoo.”
Steve froze, his mouth pressed against the underside of your jaw mid-kiss. Then he nipped at your skin, making you giggle. He shifted until you were on your back and he hovered over you, his blue eyes shining bright and excitedly in the moonlight. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, angel,” he warned again, his expression reluctant like he was too nervous to hope you were being serious.
Digging your hands into his soft blond hair, you pulled him down to you for a kiss. It started soft and sweet, but quickly turned filthy when Steve licked into your mouth, his tongue twining with yours. He kissed you possessively and left you gasping for air when he pulled away. His blue eyes were still guarded, and you wanted to reassure him. Looking him directly in the eye, you said, “You’re it for me, Steve, I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”
He stared at you for a long moment, like he was trying to make sure you weren’t just talking in the heat of the moment. But when you looked at him with all the seriousness of how you felt, a smile dawned over his face, his expression brightening as if he were lit from the inside. “Thank fuck,” he groaned, ducking down for another kiss. You giggled against his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.
Steve rolled you both onto your sides while you made out on the blankets. When he pulled back, he looked at you fondly, stroking his hand down your face.
“You’re mine, too, right?” you asked with a soft smile. You already knew he was, but you wanted to hear him say it.
He smiled right back at you, a little bit of self-deprecation in his expression. “Angel, I’ve been yours since the first time you fell asleep in my arms.” He sighed heavily. “I liked being your friend, it would’ve been enough for me, really, but I had to know.”
When you kissed him, your teeth clacked against his because you both couldn’t stop smiling. Laughing, you stared at him with all the adoration you felt clear in your eyes.
“Does this mean you’re not angry about the trick I played?” Steve asked, a little hesitantly, as he trailed a finger over your lower lip. At your confused look, he explained. “With the Ghostface mask.”
Realization hit you and for a second you didn’t understand why you might be angry about that. But then, of course, you understood that he’d been pretending to be a stranger when he’d found you on the dance floor. Truthfully, though, you were glad it was Steve, and you told him as much. “No, if I’m honest, I wanted it to be you,” you confessed.
He looked surprised for a moment before his mouth widened into a happy grin. He pulled you tight against his chest, tucking your head under his chin. You felt his laugh rumble in his chest before you heard it. “Good, because I’ve got some ideas about some other tricks to play on you—some that might involve Bucky if you were serious about that.”
Heat sizzled through your core, your clit pulsing at the suggestion, and your hips wiggled against Steve. “I was serious if you were,” you said, a bit of a challenge in your tone. You could hear the grin in Steve’s voice when he replied.
“Oh I was,” he assured you in a darkly pleased voice. “Now that you’re mine, I’ll give you plenty of tricks and treats, angel,” he promised. You hummed happily cuddling into Steve’s chest, feeling the warmth of him soak into your skin.
After a little while, though, the cold October night penetrated the happy little bubble you and Steve had created and you shivered hard in his arms. Steve dropped a kiss to the crown of your head and then he was pulling you up. He wrapped you in the blanket from the top of the pile, pulling it tight around your shoulders and letting it hang down to your feet. He typed out a quick text to Bucky to ask his friend to gather up the rest of the blankets and store them in Sam’s garage.
Steve led you through the woods, not back the way you’d come but in a different direction, until you broke through the tree line and onto one of the roads that ran past Sam’s neighborhood. Steve’s car was a little ways away and he led you to it, tucking you into the passenger seat before getting in himself. He handed you your phone from his pocket, and you texted your friends that you were going home with him. Before they could even respond, you promised to fill them in later, then shut your phone off.
You fell asleep on the drive back to Steve’s apartment and only roused when he helped you out of the car. He was kind and patient with you as he helped you undress and clean up, both of you taking a quick shower. Then he gave you one of his shirts to wear and tucked you into his bed before sliding in behind you. Steve’s arms wrapped around you and you could feel and smell him everywhere. You fell asleep with a smile on your lips, safe and sound and happy in the arms of your friend, your man, Steve Rogers.
I recently read an article about a therapy group for depressed people who had all attempted suicide at some point. The breakthrough question for them was, “If your goal was to be just as miserable as possible, what would you do?” Most of them listed things like not getting enough sleep, or isolating themselves from everyone… the list goes on, but the point is, they listed things they already do. But now they saw those “coping mechanisms” for what they really were: things that were actively making their condition worse.
I read that article at 2:00 AM, asked myself, am I TRYING to be miserable tomorrow? And it was easier than usual to put my phone down and fall asleep. Even my intrusive “lying down” thoughts about meaninglessness and existential dread were easier to suppress when I framed them as things I’d think about to purposefully make myself feel as awful as possible.
Pairing: Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1,755
Summary: It was supposed to be a fun vacation with friends, but that's not how it turned out at all.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. AU. Serial killer!Ari. Mentions of murder. Kidnapping. Dark!Ari. Non con. Unprotected sex. Mentions of skinning animals and animal blood. Primal play/chase kink. Rough sex. Breeding kink if you squint. Dark fic!!!
A/N: Here's another spooky fic, and uhhh probably my darkest Ari ever 😳
It was supposed to be a fun vacation with friends.
A relaxing getaway.
A much needed break from work and some time to just unwind, reconnect, and have fun.
But it didn't turn out to be any of those things.
Your group's mistake was renting the lake house way out in the middle of nowhere, right on the edge of his property.
Ari Levinson didn't like strangers, but he sure liked watching you swim all by yourself each day.
Hidden in the thick trees just on the water's edge, watching as you swam by yourself most of the time, or always stayed behind once the others were on to the next activity.
Watching the way your body parted through the water, the way rivulets streaked down your skin once you pulled yourself from the lake and reached for your towel.
There was something about the serenity on your face in those moments that made Ari want you.
And not want to kill you, no, not like all the rest.
He wanted that look–you–all for himself.
So it was time to get started, to have some fun, to claim you as his sweet prize once all was said and done.
When Ari finally came out from hiding and started to wreak havoc on your friend group…the way he just effortlessly and unapologetically cut down the others like it was nothing had your heart freezing in your chest from terror.
It was like a honest to god horror movie come to life, the way your night of being huddled around the fire pit out back of the lake house swapping scary stories turned into a blood-soaked evening of chaos and mayhem.
You were pretty sure you were the last one alive, your mind still reeling as you replayed the grisly murders of your friends in your head, huddled in the farthest corner of the lake house's living room as Ari's huge frame filled the open doorway.
He just watched you for a long moment, his broad chest still heaving from his latest kill, and when he finally took a step inside, toward you, you whimpered.
That soft, sweet sound of terror had Ari's cushiony pink lips twitching and his cock stirring in his worn jeans. The way you were cowering away from him, crying and pleading for your life with quavering whispers, it just solidified his need for you.
To possess you.
To play with you.
So he did.
Ari slowly stalked closer, enjoying drawing it out, until he could gently grip your throat in his massive hand and pin you to the wall, trapping you.
His pretty little prey.
He loomed over you as his dark gaze patiently took its time drinking in your features and raking over your body. You were dressed in a pair of black leggings and an oversized sweater, the collar gaping and hanging off your shoulder and baring your skin to him, the soft, sweet, vulnerable curve of your neck.
And it was jarring, how beautiful he was, this monster.
Tall and broad, thick with muscle, his skin goldened by hours in the sun. His brown hair was long and hung in his face, which was shadowed by a thick, dark beard that only emphasized the fullness of his lips. His eyes were bright blue and stunning, glinting with something dark even as they twinkled at you with just a hint of mischief.
It was more than the quiet hum that sounded from the back of his throat that had all of your hair standing on end, because you could feel the desire coming off of him in waves.
Ari's fingers twitched against your delicate throat, his grip firm but not violent as he watched you. He was so close that his musky, smoky scent filled your nose, and you could see the tiniest smirk curl his lips when he realized just how much you were trembling for him.
He slowly, firmly turned your head to the side, ducking in close to drag his nose against your throat, breathing you in and groaning at the sweet, enticing scent of you.
Despite your terror, his actions had your body reacting in a primal way that you couldn't control, and before you knew it, your panties were ruined as shame flooded you just as Ari worked open the front of his jeans.
He fucked you right there against the wall, yanking down your leggings and panties before his thick fingers gave your cunt a cursory swirl. You saw a flash of his white teeth when he found your faint arousal waiting for him. He smeared it all around before dipping his fingers just inside your cunt and then he was pulling his touch away and digging his cock from his pants.
His first hard, deep thrust stole your breath away, making you whine in pain as he took you up on your toes, crushed your body against the wall, and panted against the curve of your throat as he rutted into you like an animal.
Ari's teeth nipped and teased along your throat, and he huffed a laugh against your dewy skin as he felt your cunt flutter and clench in response, humming wordlessly as his hips drove harder, making you more and more his with each and every deep drive of his cock.
The worst part–beyond your body's betrayal and how good it felt–was that he made you cum for him, prolonged his own release so he could feel you squeeze his cock and wail a shameful, broken cry of ecstasy.
You sagged against him after, exhausted and distraught, your mind finally turning off after a night of far too much horror, and the rest of you uncaring as you felt Ari reach his own end with a primal, throaty groan, his hips pumping into you relentlessly and filling you up with his hot, sticky cum.
Once he was finally done, Ari took a moment to just breathe you in, nosing along your sweaty forehead as your sweet, soft body went pliant against him, and he basked in the feel of your pretty cunt warming his softening cock.
He didn't even need to subdue you once he pulled away, because you were pretty much catatonic and in shock, your body still trembling and twitching post orgasm as he situated your clothes before leading you back to his cabin.
Soon he had you tied up and sat at the big dining table he made by hand, making you watch as he skinned and gutted his latest animal kills.
Little by little, you slowly came back to yourself, realizing where you were and with whom, and what he was doing right in front of you, like some kind of fucked up show he was putting on.
Ari's lips quirked at your muffled whimpers and the steady stream of tears that wet your cheeks and dampened the makeshift gag in your mouth.
But it was the way that you stubbornly kept your eyes squeezed shut, refusing to watch what he was doing, that amused him to no end.
Still, you were breaking the rules by hiding away like that, and if there was one thing Ari wanted you to learn–and learn early on–it was that you were always to do what he wanted.
Always and without question.
So once he was done prepping your dinner, Ari took you right there on the dining room floor without even washing his hands. He made sure to smear the animal blood and guts all over your body, until you both stank with the copper twang of it and you were crying so hard—your body so tense—that Ari could barely get his cock all the way inside you, but fuck if he didn't try.
But you surprised him! Having some fight in you after all, those survival instincts of yours finally kicking in as he pulled away from you and you kicked out at him, catching him in the stomach and scrambling away, bursting out the front door of his cabin and staggering into the nearby woods.
Ari should have been angry, but above anything else, he was a predator first and foremost, and you were most definitely his prey.
And the way he loved the fucking chase.
Part of him liked you–and wanted you–even more for this stunt of yours, and Ari laughed to himself as he rose to his feet, tucked his cock away, and followed after your hasty retreat.
Hope sparked inside of you as you stumbled through the woods and further and further away from Ari's cabin. Maybe you actually could escape him, maybe you could get to help, maybe you could–
You screamed as you were suddenly tackled from behind, hitting the ground hard and stunned for a moment as all the air was knocked from your lungs. You wheezed for breath before gasping as you were suddenly flipped over onto your back.
It was the sight of Ari grinning big and victorious as he knelt over you that had something frantic clicking in your brain, had you kicking and screaming and fighting him for all you were worth.
His grin turned excited as he easily wrangled both your wrists in one massive hand and used the other to violently tear away your clothes before roughly fucking you right there on the cold forest floor.
Ari's hips were merciless as he pounded into you, making sure to drive hard and deep and ripping a ragged keen from the back of your throat with every violent plunge of his cock.
"You gotta learn," he spoke for the first time, his voice a husky baritone that had all of your hair standing to attention. "Who you belong to now."
When his free hand snaked between your bodies so his fingers could rub at your clit, and you felt that traitorous spark reignite deep in your center, you started to sob, all of the fight bleeding from your veins as you went pliant beneath him and tried to stave off the unwanted pleasure he was masterfully forcing upon you.
Cooing at you and your surrender–at your pretty cries and tempting tears–Ari didn't stop until you were boneless and ruined beneath him, your fight long gone as he filled you with yet another load of his hot, sticky cum.
Ari's handsome face was sweaty as he buried it against the crook of your neck, groaning his release as you continued to weep beneath him, all soft and sweet for him, and finally accepting your fate…
Here, with him.
Forever.
OOP–
—
If you enjoyed this work, please consider tipping your friendly neighborhood hoe, here on Tumblr or through my Kofi. A lot of time, love, and energy goes into my writing, so your support is very much appreciated! Thank you! ❤️
—
I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @sirisshamelesshoelibrary and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘
Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or my personal author website. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️
Toji as a lasingerong tatay na dimo alam saan nya galing yung perang pinambibili nya ng redhorse eh tambay lang naman, kahit madalas na pinag chichismisan ng mga nanay na single mom sa baranggay nila wala pa rin syang misis. Tol pa tawag ni toji sa mga kainuman nya, pero surprisingly hindi malaki tyan nya di katulad ng mga kasama nya uminom.
Megumi nickname nito sakanila kokoy madalas stay at home lang nag lilinis or nag luluto or tulog, lagi nyang solo yung bahay kasi lagi naman nasa labas si toji. Madalas pinag mamalaki ni toji sa inuman kasi honor student daw.
Yuji kapitbahay nila megumi ito naman nickname nya jepoy madalas inuutusan bumili ng redhorse or yelo papayag naman sya basta sakanya sukli.
Nobara naman sya yung tindera sa tindahan ng mama nya, gusto nya sya mag tinda kasi kung hindi pogi makikita nya mga batang cute na stick-o madalas yung binibili. Gusto nya rin sya gumawa ng yelo tapos gugupitin nya yung handle sa dulo ng plastic.
Gojo tambay na sya lagi nag tuturo ng direction ng bahay, mostly mali mali binibigay nya kasi kung di sya lasing puyat sya kakashabu.
Geto favorite line nya "Kaya di umuunlad yung pilipinas" pag pinapaupo sya sa gitna ng jeep kasi masikip daw don, pag bored tumatakbo sya ng kagawad. Madalas natatawag na adik long hair daw kasi.
Choso dalawang rason lang bakit sya tumatakbo hinahabol ng aso o hinahabol ng police.
Nanami tatay na signal dad mag isa nyang tinataguyod anak nya, no-to-alcohol pag walang occasion. Pag pasko ito yung kahit di ka mag mano lalapitan ka para bigyan ng sobre, buong baranggay kilala nya.
Maki dito ka laging ikukumpara ng magulang mo kasi di lang talented matalino pa, sa family gatherings sya lagi nappoint out. Lahat ng tita gusto sya maging anak.
Sukuna dealer ng shabu, sya dahilan bakit wag ka mag dadala ng bata sa family gatherings kasi sya yung mag bibigay ng trauma. Laging nakakabuntis.
Hiromi may anak sya sa labas, pag nalasing inaaway mga pinsan nya dahil sa lupa.
Mei mei sya yung chikadora mong tita na nag asawa ng afam, madalas usap usapan sya kasi daw "umangat sa buhay dahil sa afam"
kinktober day one — threesomes ; find the masterlist here
synopsis. you’re professor gojo’s TA—the catch? you both are romantically involved. what do you do when professor geto happens to accidentally walk in on you giving a blowjob? let him fuck you so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t tell a soul, of course
length. 5.1k words (deep, big, heavy sigh)
contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, college au, teacher-student relationships, prof! satoru + suguru, TA! reader, power imbalance, age gaps (reader is early twenties and satoru + suguru are early thirties), semi public sex (at campus in satoru’s office), suguru walking in on you and satoru, threesomes, fingering + blowjobs + hair pulling + throat fucking + cum swallowing (satoru), male masturbation + edging (suguru), unprotected sex + (one) clit slap + creampie (suguru), pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, princess, pretty girl, good girl), not proof read—i am a raw dog kinda gal
notes. i would highly discourage having intimate relations with a professor—but….if your professor looks like gojo or geto, i’m blind babe. i ain’t see nothing. i won’t tell a soul
“you guys wanna get lunch?” nobara hums, “we’re all here.”
megumi, as always, looks like he’s about to say no—he probably wants to go home as quickly as possible. but that’s not an option because before he can, yuji has already piped up with an enthusiastic, “yeah! i’m down.”
you fiddle your fingers nervously—how are you supposed to get out of this one? you’d just used the excuse of grading assignments for satoru yesterday, and surely you couldn’t possibly have a fresh pile of them to grade again within twenty-four hours, right? it’d be a suspicious excuse, especially one for nobara, who seems to sniff out a lie a little too easily.
it’s not that you don’t want to hang out with your friends, you love them. really. but you promised you’d be in satoru’s office in fifteen minutes—and you’re not about to keep him waiting, so lunch will have to wait for another time.
you’re still thinking of a usable excuse when she turns to you herself, unimpressed as she dryly says, “i assume you have some midterm review to help him polish or something,” she grumbles, “gojo is so lazy,” she scoffs.
oh—well, that wasn’t very hard. she’s just made it ten times easier for you. nobara has handed you the perfect excuse right in the palm of your hand, and before you can even play it off casually, yuji cuts in and distracts her. bless yuji, you think to yourself.
“hey, professor gojo is a great guy! we all passed with an A! isn’t that great?”
“everyone gets an A in his class, dumbass,” megumi grunts, rolling his eyes, “not getting an A in his class practically means you’re deliberately trying to do poorly.”
on campus, professor gojo is a fan favorite—his rate my professor score is a perfect five stars, and most of the students around campus rave about him. why? because he gives out the letter grade A+ like it’s candy. anyone would love a professor like that.
he doesn’t ever take attendance or knock your grade down when you skip class, his assignments are always easy to google answers to, and the quizzes have unlimited time and attempts. his tests are straightforward enough that even if you never pay attention, doing the review he uploads is sure to help you cram enough to pass. and what’s better? he always adds a generous curve. not only that, but professor gojo is a friendly guy—he loves talking to his students, loves to ramble away if you stop him in the halls or visit during office hours, loves to listen to your stories and nod along in interest, loves to crack jokes and have a good laugh.
everyone loves professor gojo. and when they leave his class with an A+, they love him even more.
you had an A+ in physics yourself when you took his class—and you hate physics. you hated it in high school, and you hate it now. but for gojo satoru? you’re almost a physics enthusiast. professor gojo—or rather, satoru, as you call him now, takes a liking to you. a very…strong liking, if you will.
it all starts on a fateful monday afternoon two semesters ago—it’s one thirty pm, the busiest hour on campus. sometimes, it feels like everyone takes classes at one pm—and as such, getting a table in the university coffee shop is almost impossible. you’re just about to give up and leave with your coffee and sandwich after scanning the place when a wave of a hand catches your attention.
it’s professor gojo.
need a seat? he asks you, gesturing at the chair in front of him at his table—it’s a smooth, amused little drawl, the way he talks. it’s almost always a borderline teasing tone, and his voice is low enough that it sounds oddly enticing. you’ve heard enough girls lust over his voice in class to know you’re not the only one who sometimes appreciates the sound.
you try to insist that you wouldn’t want to intrude, but professor gojo is a nice guy; always looks out for his students and helps them out. so, when he insists that he doesn’t mind you taking the spare seat as he grades a few assignments, well…you decide to sheepishly thank him and sit across from him, finally having somewhere to sit and eat before you’re off to your next class.
and then it begins.
every now and then, you sit across from your physics professor in the crowded coffee shop on campus as you enjoy a cold brew and a sandwich before your next class. somehow, he always manages to snatch a table, and somehow, you always manage to find him. you like to ramble to him sometimes—how professor nanami is a bit too strict for your liking (he giggles at that), how professor ieri always seems too tired and miserable to be here (he nods and agrees), and how professor geto is nice, but he takes literature pretty seriously (he gives you an amused look at that as he hums.)
somewhere along the line, he asks you to be his TA for the following semester—and somewhere further along that line…well, perhaps the one-on-one talks as you sit together at a table for two felt a little too close to something of a romantic setting because you and professor gojo kiss in his office while he calls you in to explain your TA responsibilities.
that was never supposed to happen.
you don’t even remember who leaned in first, or whose arms were the first to wrap around the other, or who tugged who closer, but you both kiss. and then some. and then it happens again, and again, and again—and, well…you’re professor gojo’s, or better yet, satoru’s best kept secret.
you go to his office to grade assignments for him—in between if he steals a few kisses, who’s to know? sometimes, he’s a bit riskier, likes to spread his legs and free his cock and have your hand stroke him as he eyes the door. it’s always a nice view to watch him unbutton a few buttons of his shirt and bite back moans. other days, he likes to slip his hand past your waistband and toy with your clit—the amused glint in his eyes, as he tells you not to get distracted and keep grading when you gasp always, earns him a sharp glare.
it’s like that for the semester, just you and him in his little office where you can break the rules in the safety of secrecy.
that is, until now.
admittedly, this isn’t the best time to be doing this—professor geto likes to have lunch with satoru around this time, and you know you’re cutting it close…but he just looks so pretty like this, head fallen back against his chair as his lips part with a soft gasp.
you’re on your knees, looking up as you suck on the tip of his stiff cock before taking him down your throat, bobbing your head up and down. it’s a rewarding position to be in—to have the hot, loved, campus favorite professor that everyone thirsts over falling apart in your mouth, hands gripping the arms of his chair as he pants harshly above you.
he looks pretty—always does, always looks good enough that you can feel the ache between your legs get worse. the messy strands of his hair stick to his damp forehead, and his lips are always so pink and plump when he bites them like that, and who can forget the way his eyes turn just a shade darker of that bright blue?
you hum around him, making him groan as he mumbles, “f-fuck, you’re so good, sweetheart—always know how to make me feel good.”
you press a kiss to his tip, smearing the bead of pre cum leaking from his slit along your lips before licking them clean—he closes his eyes and groans at that. you can’t help but giggle, can’t help but press more kisses along his hardened length until you’re at the base of his cock.
“pretty little lips,” he hums, reaching to rub his thumb over your bottom lip as you open your mouth, letting him slip into your mouth—he hums approvingly as your tongue swirls around the digit, sucking slowly. “‘s like you were made for taking me, huh?”
“‘course i was,” you grin cheekily—and then you’re back to sucking on his cock, tongue rubbing over that thick vein you love to trace and reaching a hand to play with his balls. he moans—it’s low but still whiny enough that you can’t help but feel so proud at how needy he is, how desperately he always wants you. no matter the risk.
except the risk is probably not the wisest one to test today because just as satoru lets out a particularly loud whine when you swallow around him, the door clicks open and…
oh.
oh no.
this…this isn’t good—this is terrible, in fact. this is the worst possible outcome to the worst possible thing you’ve done, and now you’re screwed. entirely destroyed, in fact—the both of you. here goes your admission and your progress on your degree, and here goes satoru’s entire career and everything he’s worked for, and all because you couldn’t help but give him a blowjob in the middle of his office with the door unlocked where his best friend can walk right in and get a full view.
and worse? this best friend of his happens to be another professor on campus who you happen to have had just last semester. you’re sure he knows you; you’re his former student, after all, and he must certainly know his best friend’s TA.
professor geto blinks—his eyes go back and forth between you and satoru and the still-hard cock between his legs that’s glistening with your spit as you sit on your knees. yeah—there’s no explaining this one.
“well,” he says blankly, “i guess that’s on me for not knocking, huh?”
“suguru,” satoru grumbles, “some of us are busy y’know? can’t you come back later?”
you turn to satoru in shock—how can he be so normal about this? how can he just casually act like this is some random hook-up his friend walked in on instead of a (very illegal and very unprofessional) teacher-student relationship that could get the two of you in more trouble than you can comprehend?
but professor geto doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned. there’s no look of disgust or panic or even anger at you and satoru for your unprofessional habits. there’s no alarm at the distasteful activities you’re doing in the middle of a university office where anyone could potentially walk in on. and then there’s satoru—he doesn’t even bother making himself decent or pulling you from your knees.
no, instead, he looks at professor geto in slight irritation as the latter stands there.
“so this is what you’re always busy doing in your office, huh?” professor geto hums, chuckling in amusement, “i have to say, you at least have good taste, satoru. she’s excellent in and outside the classroom, it seems.”
“yeah, she’s a keeper,” satoru hums, cupping your cheek as he grins down at you, “now if you don’t mind, suguru, we’re in the middle of something.”
“and what do you plan on doing if this gets around?” professor geto raises a brow, unimpressed.
you look at him in panic at that—surely…surely he can’t mean that he would be the one to spread this around, right? surely he wouldn’t throw his best friend under the bus, correct? if not for you, then for satoru’s sake, he’d never let this information find another soul. otherwise…otherwise you’ll both lose everything. all the hard work and progress you’ve made, all of satoru’s experience and years building his career, and all the future opportunities you had coming up—all of it will be for nothing if professor geto says one word.
people wouldn’t have a hard time believing it either, you think. sometimes your own friends like to poke fun at you themselves.
you’re always with him, are you sure you’re not in love with the guy at this point? nobara always likes to snort at you.
why does professor gojo even keep you around? you’re too lazy—you must give good head, megumi tends to tease as he raises a brow with amused eyes.
with how often you’re in professor gojo’s room, you might as well have a crush on him, yuji sometimes giggles.
surely, with how often you’re seen in the coffee shop with him as he grades papers and how often he likes to tease you when you show up to his classroom sometimes to drop off papers, students would certainly take the rumors and spread them like wildfire if professor geto says even the littlest thing.
you look at him with wobbly lips as you whisper, “please don’t tell anyone,” you sniffle, “i…maybe there’s something we can do…to keep you from…”
the two of them look at you in shock—they stare at you for a moment, stare at the crystalline tears welling up in your eyes, at the soft little tremor in your lips, at the sweet little sniffles you try to hide. then, as if in sync, their eyes meet each other’s before finding you once more.
“oh, that’s precious,” professor geto chuckles, “she really is a keeper, satoru—she even looks pretty when she cries. i’m almost jealous.”
“don’t look for too long, suguru,” satoru grumbles—and then, “listen, sweetheart, you don’t have to worry. suguru’s not gonna—”
“well, if there is something you’d wanna do for me,” professor geto cuts satoru off, his voice a low drawl as he walks closer, hand cupping your jaw as he tilts your face up, “i suppose i can keep my mouth shut.”
“anything,” you nod quickly.
you’re so eager to please, he thinks—so perfect and sweet and pliant, that suguru thinks he might actually really be jealous that somehow, it was satoru who caught your attention. how did this all start? when did it start? how long has it been going on? do you have real feelings for each other? or is it just a pleasurable business kind of deal? do you meet up outside of campus? does he take you to the next town over to freely walk around with you on dates? do you kiss sweetly sometimes instead of with hunger? have you ever spent a night in his bed? do you sleep better beside each other, wrapped in the other’s arms?
there are so many, many questions suguru wants to ask. the potential answers to all of them make him a bit more unhappy than he cares to admit. something in him wonders how things might’ve had to play out in order to land you in his office instead—but…but if you’re offering anything, why not take advantage of the offer?
“anything?” he asks, looking at you amused, “you know, princess, anything is a dangerous offer. what if i asked to join? what if i asked to fuck you here in this office so your secret is safe?”
you blink up at him for a moment at his words—they’re a bit shocking. professor geto…doesn’t think this is wrong? clearly, he doesn’t if he’s willing to take part. but that doesn’t sound half bad. not even in the slightest.
they’re a popular pair: professor gojo and geto are all people on campus ever talk about. those two professors who happen to be best friends. they’re not much older than you either—can’t be past their early thirties, even if they don’t look a day over twenty.
did you know they used to go to college together? i heard they’ve known each other since high school. apparently, they applied to work here together and only took the offer up once the other agreed. it’s all people ever gossip about when they mention them both. it’s always about how close they are, how deep their bond is, how there is never one without the other. and then, of course, there are those…the less than appropriate comments you occasionally hear the other girls make. i bet professor gojo gives the best head—he’s always sucking on some lollipop. i’d let professor geto do nasty things to me while i read his literature books out loud to him—he’s too fine. i can take both of them—and i don’t mean their classes.
it’s…not exactly a bad offer that he gives you, you think to yourself. it’s an enticing one, in fact. you get to have them both—professor geto isn’t any less attractive than satoru and…and well, you’d really like for him to keep this a secret, so it’s a bit of a win-win. plus, you’re sure he wouldn’t risk spilling such delicate information when it would put his career at risk, too—it seems like the perfect leverage.
you look at your old literature professor with a nod as you murmur, “then i’d say you should make sure to lock the door this time—we don’t want to make the same mistake twice, do we?”
his eyes sparkle in amusement at that, a low chuckle falling from his pretty lips as he shakes his head at you—you’re even better than he expected. satoru is so, so lucky he’s got to have you to himself all this time. it’s criminally unfair.
“hey,” satoru pouts from behind, still sitting in his chair and still painfully hard as his throbbing cock sits between his legs unattended. “you both are forgetting about me,” he whines.
professor geto—or rather, suguru, you suppose, only looks at his best friend in amusement. “now, satoru—what have i always told you about sharing? here—” he walks over and pulls satoru to stand before taking the seat himself and patting his thigh as he looks at you with a sly grin, “why don’t i get to feel your pussy, and satoru can have your mouth like before? then we both get what we want.”
“bossy as ever, suguru,” satoru chuckles, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker and more excited than you’ve ever seen them.
“get her ready for me,” suguru hums, fingers making quick work to unbuckle his belt and free his hardened cock. you can’t help but stare, can’t help but watch as he wraps his fist around his hardened length and runs his thumb through his slit with a low moan.
he’s not as long, but he’s thicker than satoru—you can easily tell he won’t be any easier to take. you watch attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of his cock with this thumb as he strokes upward, rolling around his tip before stroking down and squeezing at the base. you watch his lips tug between his teeth, a soft moan ripping from his throat as he touches himself in the way he likes best.
you’ll remember what he likes, you think—you can sense this might not be your first and last opportunity to see suguru like this. and next time? well, next time, it’ll be your hand touching his cock and pulling those pretty little sighs and groans from him instead of his own.
“eyes on me, sweetheart,” satoru hums, pulling you to stand before gently guiding your back to fall against his desk, fingers looping into your waistband and pulling your pants down your legs. you can hear the sharp inhale suguru takes as soon as the wetness of your folds is on display, as soon as your puffy clit and dripping pussy are there for him to see so clearly. “watch carefully, suguru,” satoru grins, “she’s pretty when she cums.”
“i can imagine,” suguru muses, “alright then. show me.”
instantly, satoru’s fingers are intruding into your cunt—it’s familiar, the sensation of his digits bullying past your folds and curling against your sweet spot. he’s already knuckles deep, already pressing the tips of his fingers into the back of your walls as far as they’ll go, spreading you open and scissoring you apart. it feels good—it always does, and when his palm rolls across your clit? you can’t help but let out a whiny moan that earns a groan from suguru as he fists his cock tighter.
“god, she even sounds so pretty,” he pants, watching as satoru’s fingers slip in and out of your pretty cunt, at the way it all but sucks them in itself as it flutters around him. everything about you is perfect—but your face is by far suguru’s favorite. the way it twists with pleasure as satoru slams his fingers against your spot mercilessly with every thrust of his wrist has him fighting off his orgasm—his fist slowing down to a teasing edge as he grunts at the way he lets his pleasure die down for the sake of really feeling you.
“that feel good, angel?” satoru asks, grinning down at you.
you nod quickly, head thrown back against the wooden desk as you stutter, “y-yes…s-so good, toru.”
“toru?” suguru asks, “do i get a nickname too? make sure you come up with one for me, yeah?”
it’s almost like you don’t hear him, too busy on the way satoru drags along your walls with every time his fingers sink into you. “toru, toru—s-slow down, ‘m g-gonna…”
“slow down?” satoru gasps—his pace only quickens at that as he gives you a mocking pout, “you want me to slow down, sweetheart? you never ask me to slow down, it’s always faster, toru. faster, please! from you. you don’t wanna give suguru the wrong idea, do you? he’ll think i haven’t taught you how to take it like a good girl.”
suguru snorts at that, slowly dragging his hand up and down his sensitive cock—it’s red at the tip, flushed, and leaky enough that it’s easy to tell he’s aching for release.
“hurry up, satoru,” he grits, biting his lip as he fights back another orgasm and stills his hand, keeping it tightened around the base of his length, “we haven’t got all day.”
“can’t rush making my pretty girl cum, suguru,” satoru gasps, “she deserves the best. look at this pussy—” he gives pulls his fingers out to give your clit attention, rubbing your slick over the sensitive bud as you gasp, writhing over his desk, “—see how perfect it is? you gotta treat it like that too.”
as if from his words alone, as if you get off on the way satoru praises your cunt to his best friend who watches you get stuffed to the brim with his fingers, you whimper before cumming—your pussy fluttering around nothing, walls spasming and dripping with slick as he toys with your clit.
“toru—toru, ‘m cumming…cumming—oh,” you babble, thighs quivering as his thumb doesn’t let up from your abused clit, watching as your hand reaches for his wrist weakly to halt his movements. “‘s too much,” you sniffle.
“too much?” suguru gasps, “how will you take me, then, princess? don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?”
“nah,” satoru grins, chuckling, “she’s got plenty left in her. she can take it.” with that, he hooks an arm under your waist and helps you sit up, leaning down to kiss you softly as you let out a muffled whine against his lips. “you’re ready for suguru, aren’t you, baby? prepped you nice and good to take him, didn’t i?”
you nod, mumbling a soft, “uh huh,” in agreement.
“that’s my good girl,” he coos, grinning as he presses a wet kiss to your forehead.
suguru, patient as ever with a stiff, aching cock standing between his muscled thighs, holds an arm out for you as he murmurs, “c’mere then, princess. can’t back out of our deal yet, can you?” you walk over to him on wobbly legs, letting him pull you to sit on his lap, back flush against his chest as his hands guide your hips. he taps the head of his cock against your clit as he lines your entrance up with his length before pulling you to sit, slowly inching you down on him bit by bit as he gasps at the way you squeeze around him instantly. “h-holy—fuck, such a tight fuckin’ pussy. ‘s like i can barely even move,” he grunts, chin resting on your shoulder as he pants.
satoru walks over, staring down at you as you’re seated on suguru’s lap before cupping your cheek and rubbing over the soft skin with his thumb. “you can take both of us, right sweetheart? you’re just too good not to, aren’t ya?”
you nod eagerly, letting the tip of his cock tap against your lip, tongue moving to lick across his slit and make him groan. he’s painfully hard—cock swollen and neglected for so long, you almost forgot that he’s been waiting for your mouth to take him again after being interrupted. your jaw slacks as you let him thrust his hips and fuck his length into you, tip hitting the back of your throat as you choke around him.
“fuck,” satoru hisses lowly, biting his lip as his hands grab your hair and keep you in place while he ruts into your mouth, “fuck, baby. never get tired of how good this mouth feels—takes me so fuckin’ well. jus’ love feelin’ me down your throat, huh?”
you can’t do anything but let out a muffled cry, feeling the fat tip of suguru’s cock nudge against your sweet spot—it’s just as effortless: the way he finds your most sensitive part. just as effortless as satoru. maybe that’s why they get along so well, maybe they’re connected in that way.
“oh, princess,” suguru moans, panting against your ear as he lets out a breathy moan, “fuck, that’s good—so, good. can hardly move with the way you’re squeezing me. greedy little pussy, isn’t it?”
you whine as you feel his arm wrap around you, finger rolling over your puffy clit as his hips snap upwards and fuck into you, cock dragging along your walls and stretching you enough that you can hardly think straight. he’s big—it feels like he’s almost splitting you open with his girth as his hips roll up and sink him deeper into your cunt.
“she’s…she’s perfect,” suguru pants, “keepin’ this all to yourself? how selfish of you, satoru.”
“she’s mine,” satoru whines, cock pushing past your lips as he speaks, the way your tongue glides along his vein making his cheeks flush as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open with a breathless moan. “she’s too good to share with you. you d-don’t deserve her.”
“yeah? and you do?” suguru chuckles—it sounds more like a labored pant, his breath harsh as he groans into your neck when you flutter particularly tightly around him, forehead falling to dig into your shoulder, “she’s suckin’ me in. think she wants me. don’t you, pretty girl? you want me to cum inside you, right? make you mine too?”
“y-yes,” you mewl, popping off satoru’s length as you whimper when suguru chuckles and gives your clit a light slap, back arching against him as he pushes his cock past your folds again, “yes, wan’ it. wan’ it so, so bad—need it.”
“see,” he raises a brow towards satoru, “knew it.”
you can see the way satoru’s cock twitches at that—at the way you fall apart on suguru’s lap as the latter digs his head into your shoulder as he breathes harshly, chasing his release desperately as he ruts into your slick pussy. you can see the way satoru’s tip is flushed a harsh red, leaking with pre cum as he aches to spill cum down your throat, so you let him push past your lips once more—but not before giving his tip a delicate kiss.
“she’s my girl,” satoru grunts, “mine, mine, mine—knows how to make me cum. kn-knows how to take me so good, right baby?”
and as if to answer him, you suck around his tip, swallowing around his length and making him groan as his hips stutter and cum paints your throat white as it fills your mouth. you try to swallow every drop, try to take what he gives you as he fucks into you desperately and chases the pleasure of his high. thick, hot ropes of cum spill from the corners of your lips as satoru fucks his load into you, panting as his hips sloppily roll and work himself through his orgasm.
“that’s right, sweetheart,” he groans lowly, “take it, yeah? god—fuck, feels so good, baby. ‘m c-cumming.”
you make a sound between a choked whine and sharp gasp as suguru’s thumb rubs harshly against your swollen clit, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he groans, hips just as sloppy as satoru’s in his pace that it tells you he’s close too—and then he twitches into your pussy, cock burying into you once, twice, three more times before he groans too.
“gonna cum, princess? ‘cause ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum—fill you up and make you mine. you want that right? want me to—f-fuck, fuck ‘m close, so close,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, letting out a needy whine into your skin before spilling into you. you can feel hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as his tip nudges back into you and pushes his load as deep as he can.
and you fall apart too, coming undone a second time as your walls hug around him tightly, head falling back as you mewl a high pitched, “s-sugu—c-can’t…’s too much—”
“you can take it, pretty,” he hums, “know you can. you’re too precious not to, right?”
it’s messy—it’s downright filthy, in fact, the way his cum and your slick mix and drip along your inner thighs, making a mess on satoru’s chair. you pant as your pussy pulses around him before coming down from your high, falling slack in his arms against his chest as he chuckles and presses a kiss to your jaw.
“fuck,” he breathes, “you’re something else. who’d have thought my favorite little student from a previous semester could do all that?”
“isn’t she a dime?” satoru chuckles proudly, reaching for the corner of your mouth with his thumb, collecting a stray drop of cum and pushing it back past your lips and onto your tongue, humming approvingly as you swallow. “precious, isn’t she?”
“of course,” suguru nods, with a grin, leaning to peck your shoulder, “so, tell me. which professor would you take again?”
satoru purses his lips as he glares. “this isn’t rate my professor, suguru. and don’t get used to thi—”
“well,” you hum, interrupting as you bat your lashes sweetly at both of them, “why i can’t just take both of you again?”
guess who’s posting their october first kinktober fic literally 40 mins before it’s october second ?? if it’s not procrastinated, it’s not reached its full potential
✮ SYNOPSIS: when the storm passes, a rainbow comes. and you're the brightest and most beautiful one he's ever seen.
✮ CONTENT: afab!reader (she/her), teacher!reader (but not really relevant to the story), cat hybrid!gojo, dry humping, blood, slight hair pulling, cock-warming, unprotected sex, breast play, biting, marking, cum eating, cunnilingus, etc. + 5.52k words !
Thunder rumbles in the near distance as you’re locked behind your desk, searching through the piles and piles of your students’ classwork. Your stomach growling loudly being dismissed amongst the crackle of lightning. You huff in annoyance at your current circumstances, peaking out towards the wide windows. The blinds across them are tilted open, showing you the harsh and violent rain pour intermingling with the wind. Checking the analog clock, it’s nearing six pm. You really shouldn’t stay any longer. You really should’ve gone home when you originally told yourself to— three hours ago.
Grabbing the current pile you’re trying to deduce and rid yourself by tomorrow morning, you stuff the contents inside of your bag. It’s in bad shape after the few years you’ve had it and the lackadaisical attention you’ve given it. Standing up, you throw it over your shoulder as you flick the lights off and quickly bid your classroom a farewell with an exhale and the swing of the door.
The halls are empty, ridden of students and majority staff. When you quickly pace down the hallways, the lights are off and all chairs are tucked away in a corner and stacked neatly. You don’t have to worry about plastering a smile on your face, wishing your coworkers a good night. Simply, you keep your head down low and head towards the heavy blue double doors that lead to your victory as go the shortcut out of the school. Climbing down the stairs, you search for your umbrella, a small one that will do nothing to shield you from the thunder and lightning that continues to boom behind closed doors.
You brace yourself, sucking in a deep breath before you push open the door. Umbrella handle in one hand with your keys in the other, repeatedly clicking the unlock button as you run out. In a matter of seconds, your body is soaked. It’s just your luck when you remember just how far your car is when you realize that you’re heading in the wrong direction. Spinning on your heel, you catch yourself from falling as you begin to pant. Your legs ache, your thighs feeling tight with every step as you pace towards the car. You’re going as fast as you can, but you feel as though it’s not enough. Arm reaching out for the handle, the moment it’s open, you throw your things on the other side before hopping in.
The drive home is one that’s anxiety-inducing, barely able to see the road even with the windshield wipers going back and forth. Your heart pounds against your chest with the tip of your shoes, lightly pressing against the gas. You shuffle forwards, squinting towards the road as you take a left inside of your apartment complex.You find a sense of relief as you can make out the blurry brown buildings as you inch closer at five miles per hour. Pulling into your usual parking spot, you turn off the ignition as your back falls against the seat and you let out a sigh.
Your eyes lull to sleep, forcing you to jump out of your impending slumber as you grab your keys and the bag you threw in haphazardly. The rain has taken a bit of time to ease, making it an easier voyage to your downstairs apartment door and barge in when your key unlocks both knobs. Immediately, you strip off almost every fabric you’re wearing. You drop every article of clothing into one pile before scooping them up as you head towards the direction of your bedroom.
The cold air nips at your wet skin. Your teeth clatter against one another, the touch of bone being a rattling sound as you shiver your way towards the bathroom. Locked behind the four walls of the small room, you rip the towel from hanging behind the door as you redirect it towards the hook next to the shower. Finally ridding yourself of your undergarments, you stand bare as you turn the knob to the shower pipe and wait for the water to heat up.
“Alexa,” your voice rings out, as you instruct your small AI to stream your Calm VIbes playlist as the water starts heating up and steam starts forming. The water running down your body is piping hot, but it soothes your skin as you’d love to stay inside the shower forever.
Twisting the handle until water is no longer streaming, the shower door rumbles as you pull it open. You wrap the dusty pink towel around your body, drying your body and scratching at your head full of hair. Conducting your habitual hygiene routine, you smell of lavender and eucalyptus, further tranquilizing you. You decide to sport a t-shirt and a pair of boy shorts, draping your robe over your body. Feet pattering against the floor, they lead you to the kitchen. Your fridge is empty of ready-made foods, no leftovers piled up and waiting to be eaten. You grumble as your next stop is the freezer. Hand squeezing around the handle, you pull as your eyes immediately start to roam. Waffles… Pancakes… Ice Cream… Raw Meat… You’re close to giving up when your attention falls onto a beige, foreign packaging as you’re hoping it’s something you can quickly prepare.
You ignore the ice, dusting it off as you read the hatakana symbols. A beef stew that you had bought a week prior. It was easy enough to cook, setting a pot of water to boil the contents as you found a container of frozen rice in the freezer as well. Waiting for the pot to boil, you’re leaning against the dining table when you hear the crash of glass amidst the thundering patter of rain and the bang of your patio rails following suit. Head snapping towards its direction, you’re hesitant to check what the sound is as you see a tall and looming figure outside the sliding glass door.
Watching from the blinds, you see the splatter of your large clay pot that held your growing papaya tree. The intruder’s kicking at the shards, trying to get rid of the evidence before one cuts at his skin. He winces before his back hits the black railings. You can’t see their face clearly, can only make out the black clothing against pale skin and what appears to be a head of soaking wet, white hair. The wind is so strong that it pulls the rain, doing nothing to protect the stranger from the downpour.
You’re still hesitant, but inching towards the door, you flick up the notch. Before you can pull open the door, you’re momentarily trying to rationalize this. They could be a danger to you, you warn yourself. This is the perfect opportunity to try and kill you. Yet, you still find yourself being an altruist as you figure whoever it is must be uncomfortable. They probably just need some shelter for the time being.
And before you could think anymore, you tug open the door. It loudly opened and startled the trespasser. Quickly, water lands on you as you’re forced to jump back. You can quickly make out the man more clearly now, but with his back turned towards you, it’s still not much. He jumps in alert, spinning on his heel to see you standing there. He doesn’t know what you’re going to do, but he doesn’t want to wait. His white tail matches the hair on his head, bristling up in fear. Not saying a word, you realize he’s going to try and make a run for it.
“Hey!” you call out, loudly over the rain pour. “Wait!—”
He’s got one leg up over the railing, hoisting himself quickly before pausing. Looking back at you, you’re speechless as the bright blue slit eyes seem to illuminate the space as they squint in your direction. His gaze is piercing as you take notice of the flopped down ears poking from the top of his head in a sign of alertness. His teeth bare out, a soft hiss leaving his lips as he’s about to jump. “Don’t go! You can stay, but it’s better if you come inside. It’s much safer— warmer.”
You’re hoping that the emphasis you put on ‘warmer’ is enticing enough to redirect him. However, he’s still in the same position, ready to bolt at any moment. “I promise… I won’t hurt you. Just— just stay until it stops raining.”
Eyes flickering from you to the sky, Gojo’s at an unease. When you make a step forward, he shifts as both feet are on top of the railing now. At that, you halt. “I’m sorry,” you say, lowly. However, he still hears you, ears twitching at the sound of your delicate and gentle voice. He’s giving you a once over, thinking over his options. You don’t look like you could cause much harm to him and you did tell him that he could leave when the storm passes.
Slowly, one foot steps on the marble tiles. Gojo’s bare feet are careful on where it lands before the other joins. You back up completely, giving him the space he needs as he slowly comes towards the entrance. Pushing at the blinds, they clatter against each other as he pokes his head inside. The cold air pinches his skin as his eyes widen and not saying a word. With one stop at a time, his body freezes the moment he steps inside. You’re expecting him to do or say something, but nothing. Instead, his eyes are flitting back and forth. You reach for him, placing a gentle and assuring touch against his shoulder. At the sudden invasion of privacy, his hands instinctively grab onto your arm, a vice grip that’s embedded in your skin and sure to draw blood by the sharpness of his nails.
“I—” you’re trying not to cry out. “I just wanted to start a bath for you. F-figured that a nice and hot bath should warm you up.”
His grip loosens, silently giving you the okay. When you’re free of his hold, you inspect your wrist and as expected, five dots of blood silently seep down your forearm as you wince in pain. “I’ll go and start the shower,” you whisper, leaving for your guest bathroom. You’re not expecting him to follow behind you. He moves so silently, his cat nature playing in effect. Unlike your personal bathroom, this one sports a tub. A curtain rod hangs over with gray long sheets, draped outside of the tub. Pulling it to the side, you bend down to turn on the water.
Water running down the beds of your fingers, you wait until it’s at a decent temperature before plugging up the drain and letting it fill to the top. You figure that the hybrid would want to sit and relax in the heat rather than being on his feet for any longer. Just as you’re back on your feet, you let out a heavy breath as you’re planning on telling the stranger that the tub is filling up. However, you run into his chest as you back up, causing the both of you to stumble— him more than you. You notice how he’s weak at the knees, about to fall to the ground before your hand reaches out to catch him.
When you grab his arm, he doesn’t fight back this time. Gojo’s body still falls pliant to the ground, but you’ve made the impact a little softer as you let out a huff in attempts to bring him back to his feet. He’s noticeably weak in this state, trying to pull himself back to his feet but with no avail, it’s up to you to do most of the heavy lifting. You manage to bring him to sit on the edge of your toilet cover as you gently lay him back. His heart’s racing, practically pounding against his chest as his eyes lull shut.
“Don’t fall asleep,” you shake his body a bit. Eyes widening, he stays mute but tries to comply as he forces himself to keep his eyes open and on you. “I’m going to take off your clothes, okay? And I’ll help you in the shower.”
You tell him everything that you do. You don’t realize the comfort you provide in doing so, your touch is as delicate as a mother’s touch, as you do everything slowly. Getting him in the tub is the hard part, but he manages to help you out a bit as he tries to hold up his own weight— arms weakly reaching out to rest against the wall as you help his legs over the tub. When he’s got both feet in the tub, you ease him down as the water sloshes back and forth. It rises under his presence as you lean his head back and let him have a moment. With a towel and rag hanging on the rack, you reach for the smaller cloth and your bottle of aromatherapy body wash for energy. The citrusy scent of orange mixed in with the ginger lands graciously on your nose before scrunching up the rag and dipping it into the tub.
Gojo’s body was tense at first as you ran the rag across his body. Soap suds covered him, washing away the dirt that stuck to his body. However, his muscles soon contract after growing accustomed to the texture of the rag as it soon became fathomable. Almost finished, you pulled the plug up and turned back on the tub. At the sound of the water running, his eyes shot back open and looked at you in silent questioning.
“I’m just gonna wash your hair,” you grabbed the bottle of shampoo. “Is that alright?”
It was faint, but he nodded his head in an accepting gesture. The cap opens with a pop, the cold blob that lands on his head is unsettling, but the feeling’s quickly replaced with your hands running through his wet locks. Massaging his scalp, you scratch behind his ears as you’re sure to find his healed scars as you rub at the caked up dirt inside his white hair. He finds himself uncharacteristically purring, the rumbling feeling coming from his stomach as you continue.
“I’m going to pour water over your face, okay?” you inform him as his purring prolongs.
When his body’s finally covered in a soft towel, it’s the first that Gojo’s felt properly cared for in years. How the soft cotton hugs his body as you guide him gently to another room. You struggle with his weight, but you’re adamant in caring for him. You gently sit him on the bed, steadying him as you check his pulse. Has anyone ever gone the extra mile for him before? He can’t remember.
Eyes still open, but being pulled down heavily by exhaustion as he watches you disregard his soggy clothes into a bin and replacing them with a white t-shirt and baggy pants. He’s all dry, body smelling of a fruit— it makes his nose scrunch. Again, you’re assisting him as you pull the shirt over his head and help him shimmy into the pants. The moment you’re done, your shoulders fall as you let out a heavy sigh. You roll your shoulders and neck , eyes fluttering shut as a yawn leaves your lips.
There’s an aroma lingering through the house, the smell of something meaty— appetizing and mouth-watering to the cat hybrid. You smell it, too. Immediately becoming reactive, you miss the way Gojo’s body jumps at your sudden movement.
“Ah, I forgot! I have food on the stove!” You’re about to leave the room until you remember your guest. “Looking outside, the rain is starting to settle. “If you want, you can get some rest. I have enough food for the both of us, but you might be too tired to eat right now. I’d appreciate it if you stayed a little bit longer to eat something.”
And with that, you leave the feline-like human to the solitude and silence of what he only assumes is your bedroom. He pushes himself back on the bed, shuffling around until he’s under the sheets. They’re soft as his ears flutter from upright to forward, easing his body until he’s on his side. He tries his hardest not to fall asleep immediately, but the moment his head slides against the pillow—it’s chill coaxes him in what feels like seconds. When you go back to check on him, silently pushing open the door ajar, you halt the moment you see the white eyelashes shut and concealing those bright blue eyes. You smile in content.
You had forgotten to pack away the food, leaving it out to rest on the stove. They were concealed and covered inside the pots, the lids covering them. You had fallen asleep on the couch after finding a movie to watch. The television’s still on when Gojo’s woken up, the clock reading two in the morning. He finds himself more rejuvenated— much better than he previously was. Eyes landing on your slumbering form, he watches how your chest rises and falls while occasionally shifting around. His stomach rumbles, reminding him why he left the soft sheets of the bed in the first place— to find food.
Roaming down the dark pathway towards the kitchen, his eyes squint in adjustment to the light once he flickers it on. He reaches for the refrigerator handles before his eyes redirect themselves towards the stove. There’s still food, just as you had told him. It was just enough for him. He’s loud, not used to the confined spaces of a home— one so quiet at least. He tries to be agile with his movements, but unaware of where anything is in the cupboards, it’s proven to be rather difficult.
From the nonstop bustling of plates hitting each other, it slowly breaks your slumber as your eyes flutter open in exhaustion. You exhale, kicking your legs from under the thin sheet draped over your body as you subconsciously lead yourself towards the direction of noise. The irritable tail wags as tiny puffs leave his lips. He’s taking the lazy way out as he tries to tip the bowls backward. Holding the plate at an angle, he’s sure that everything’s safe until the bowl lands on its side and nearly rolls out. However, just in time, your arms catch it before more glass could shatter. You already have one thing to replace, you don’t need to create a list.
The close proximity has Gojo tensing up again as he curtly nods his head and slips the plate on the countertop in the opposite direction of you. The next thing he searches for is a spoon and fork— one to scoop up the food with and the other to eat. Before he could go on another rampage in search of them, you say, “The utensils are in the drawer on your left.”
Long and slender fingers moving to open it, he still doesn’t say a word to you. You figure you should give him time, but is there much? It stopped raining, so you’re sure that he’ll be on his way shortly, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t like the company— even if it earned you a few scratches and a defensive hiss. You’ve always wanted to adopt a hybrid, give one a home they truly deserve. However, you were always running tight on money when bills were brought up and life struck you down. This was a perfect opportunity, but if the stray’s accustomed to life outside, you’re not going to force him to stay.
He eats until every last grain of rice is gone, including the meat. The collision of the fork against the plate has him shuttering before Gojo’s leaving the soft bed again. This time, he’s much more gentle. He doesn’t make a sound, making sure not to interrupt your slumber this time around. Setting the plate in the sink, he gazes out the window.
His plans were to leave the moment he finished eating, but the warm hospitality leaves a part inside of Gojo yearning. Something he told himself to stop doing, but can’t help it when all you’ve shown him is kindness. Should he fall onto another path of trusting? Has he not learned his lesson?
However, the longer he stays still on the bed, the harder it is for him to leave it. And again, the soft and furry sheets covering the bed tranquilizes him as his head hits the pillow. His mind is telling him, get up and leave, but his body lies there in protest. Mind running rampant, the last thing he can think about is how he hasn’t given you his name.
ᓚᘏᗢ
1 WEEK LATER
“C-can I stay here?” his voice cracked, the nerves eating at him as he anticipated your answer. Pessimistically, his mind whispered no, trying to convince him that you’re just like every other human to exist. That you’ll get bored of him, tired of providing for another person. However, the way your eyes speak with such amity and kindness, there’s no chance that you would. That even if you were in a tight financial spot, you’d still find a way to fix a plate for two.
“What do you mean?” You’re in the middle of folding laundry, creasing the arms to the back before making a square.
“Like,” he begins. He squirms as he searches for the right words to say. “Live with you.”
Tail poking out, he’s anxious as he notes the slight change in expressions. It’s unreadable. You’ve stopped folding the clothes, hands now neatly resting on your lap. You expected Gojo to leave, but you’ve been waking up to the sound of feet in the middle of the night. You thought it was a silent declaration of his stay— one that’s permanent. However, from the scars atop of his head and his defensiveness upon meeting, it’s understandable why he’d want verbal confirmation.
You can’t imagine what he went through while living outside, living off scraps that he would manage to find and being yelled at for being a supposed hindrance. The news does a horrible job at highlighting the mistreatment of hybrids, the foundations and programs instilled to protect them also being a source of abuse. Gojo needs a sense of security, a home with love and you have plenty of it to give.
“Yes, of course.”
ᓚᘏᗢ
2 YEARS LATER
“Satoru,” He loves the way his name falls off your lips, no matter the tone— calm, upset, annoyed, angry, sad. Something just sparks through his entire body when you say it. His tail would stand tall, wagging excitedly as you’d speak to him. He’d force himself to listen to what you’re saying, stomach stirring as he’d shuffle in place. However, he thinks this variation of his name is the best. The soft tufts of your breasts underneath his fingernails, the long claws finding solace in its comfort. It’s a painful feeling that you constantly have to remind Gojo about, even when you’ve clipped his nails.
You’re on your bed, the stack of ungraded work gone ignored as well as the television as you have the giant man on top of you. He always finds the most inconvenient times to seek latibule from you. Your voice sounds different, not exactly annoyed or mad at him. It’s not teasing either. More of a sigh being let out, one of relief and pleasure. His messy head of hair tickles your nose, making it scrunch as his ear flicker the moment it makes contact with your skin.
His bare arms are being kissed by the cold air circulating from the A/C, goosebumps rising as he lets out a soft pur from the depths of his chest. They rest at your sides while his hips dig impossibly deeper into you. A mewl falls from his lips, heavily sighing at the feeling of your body so close. Your finger scratches the spot behind his ears, the one that makes his tail stand tall in immense happiness. All while you’re coaxing this behavior, a faux pout falls against your lips. “I have papers to grade.”
It’s a Friday evening. Both of you know that you can tend to your work later, but Gojo’s been one to easily lead you astray— on school nights as well. He knows that just with a little more purrs and sweet smiles as he hears the thump of joy rise from your chest, you’ll long forget about your work. The moment it’s Friday and you’re unlocking the front door, Gojo knows that you’re all his for the night and the next two days.
You’ve been so sweet and kind to him. From all the moments that he would doubt, expecting that the next time you’ll grow tired of him and throw him out, you’re there to remind him that you won’t. Soft kisses on his cheek, massaging his scalp, and tender rubs down his back. When he’s wary about the rare guests you have, you let him hide under the comforts of your blankets as he waits the long hours until they’re gone. You’re always thinking about him, always considering his needs and wants. And he loves you deeply.
He loves how cute you look when you’re climbing out of bed, getting ready for work. How you’d mumble about not wanting to go to work before lecturing him how important it is that you do. He loves how you have a playlist for every occasion, your cooking playlist being his favorite as he gets a front row seat to you dancing. He loves how on the weekends you’d take some time out of your day to go for a walk, and despite growing so accustomed to inside and growing a dislike for outside, he’d provide you company in hopes of keeping you safe. You’d both walk side by side in a comfortable silence as you’d take deep breaths in and out, eyes closing as every ounce of stress would leave your body.
And loves moments like this, where your hands are rubbing through his scalp and he’d add new scratches and marks to your chest. That despite your small whines of pain, you ultimately enjoy how he found purchase on top of you. That you never protest to the grounds of his hips against you, length gradually hardening as he could smell your arousal building up.
The volume to the television is low, the sound of pattering against the window filling up the room. Both of your gazes fall towards the sound as the rain trickles down, reminding Gojo just how this relationship came to be. Something that he feared becoming a catalyst to finding you. The downpour is now something he’s grown to enjoy, continuing the low hums from inside him.
Grounding his hips further in the crevices of your thighs, his breaths are low and shallow. The friction against you and him as your hips arch to meet him closer. You squirm in place as your knees rise, planting the bottom of your feet against the sheets of your bed. Tugging onto his hair, Gojo curses. “Shit.”
Precum leaks from the tip, desperate to be out and feel the warmth of your tight flesh. Arousal seeps from your cunt onto the crotch of your panties and down into your shorts. This wanton need for each other grows stronger the more you grind. His fingers are still kneading the fat of your chest, pricks of blood ooze and stain the fabric of your shirt. One hand moves to travel down your body, causing butterflies to fill your stomach as you inhale deeply. A long finger hooking around the hem of your shorts before dragging them down. The piercing cold biting at your skin even more before he’s pressing against your clit.
“So wet and I’ve barely done a thing to you yet,” he grins. Slits center his brilliant blue eyes, the dazzling whites of his canines pairing with them, his sharp fang proving little to no threat to you.The more he presses down on your covered nub, the larger the wet spot grows. The next thing he’s ready to get rid of is your shirt, the navy blue thing that you’ve kept as a keepsake from your high school. It’s dingy and old, the color fading. Scrunching up the fabric, he drags it off your body. Just as expected, his nails have done a splendid job. Your chest has marks from the past of all the times that Gojo’s found relief in kneading the area. He’s added a few more, swollen blotches and lines all over. Bending down to clean the places his nails dug too deep in, he cleans you with his rough patch of tongue.
A soft sigh leaves your lips as your eyes are drunk off of lust. Your breasts lie pliant on your chest, dark nipples poking up and erect. His breath tickles them as his mouth latches onto one before he’s tugging on the flimsy cotton of your underwear. Your daring hand goes to clutch onto the bulge tucked away in his pants. Finding the feeling of underwear unfitting, you’re not surprised to feel how his length hangs inside of the baggy shorts. You feel how his breath shutters before his canines press deep into your skin, causing you to cry out.
“Satoru,” your breath hitches, sure that they’ve left a mark. Again, you say his first name, grip around his cock tightening. He swears you’ll be the death of him.
With animalistic growls leaving his lips, he can’t waste another second. Tugging his pants down, his length springs free. His shaft’s a dusty pink closer to a brown, where he’s not too heavy in girth it’s compensated in length as the tip of his cock is brighter shade and reddening in its dire need to fill you up. He reveals your pretty folds, blossoming out with slick coated all around. Your pussy pulsates with hunger, begging for Gojo to infiltrate your walls.
The press of his head against your folds, easing himself inch by inch until he can’t go any further. And he’s still, basking in the heat of you. Clenching around him, your hips stiffened as you arch closer into him. He forces you to lay flat with the push of his hips, another inch sliding past your folds. Then, his body falls as he stills inside of you. Exhaling, his blue eyes meet yours. “I love having you like this.”
His tails stick up straight, content with this current position. Soft digits roaming his white locks as his chest rises and falls. While he’s comfortable, your heart races as you’re longing for more. You always get like this, wanting more than you’re given. Such an greedy and ungrateful quality about you. It’s humorous to Gojo, always putting a smirk on his features. “Stay still,” he whispers. “‘N maybe I’ll treat you with a bit more.”
Eyes falling back on your chest, his pelvis meets your hips as his sharp nails sink back into your flesh. He grabs the mounds as his claws scrape and dig into your skin, any drop of blood is quickly lapped up by his tongue. Teeth jarring out, they’re hard enough to induce pain and just that. Quickly, your walls flutter around his length, his free hand playing with the next and flicking at your nipples. He chuckles, hips stuttering as he grows antsy for more himself.
Nothing more than shallow thrusts, he creates a silent agreement with himself. Gnawing on his bottom lips, his white lashes flutter at you as he keeps a concentrated and intrigued look. The way your hazy eyes always prickle with tears as your mouth would open, breathing out sweet moans. The overstimulation has your cunt quivering, sucking around his length tightly in alert of your orgasm.
“Yes,” he breathes. “I’ve gotcha, kitten. Show me what you’ve got.”
Egging you to let loose, a persuasive bastard he is, dragging out your sweet nectar as it coats his cock. His chest stirs as his cock twitches, your visceral grip milking him of his seed. Your skin’s glowing, mind in a haze as you’re coming out of your orgasm. Length still hard and aching, his hands detach from you as he climbs down to the opening between your legs. The tips of his nose meet your clit, the sensitive bud flinching at the contact as the pink muscle leaves his mouth and laps at the mess he’s made of you and yourself. His tongue cleans every crevice of your folds, unashamed of the taste of you and him combined. Reveling in it, his hums send vibrations throughout your body. “‘Toru.”
When he crawls up your body, your hands reach to caress his face. Eyes glossy, a faint smile graces your features before you’re pulling his lips to yours.
“I love you,” you mumble. No more can he hear the rain, and when he looks towards the window, the storm has long passed. And he doesn’t want to leave.
CREDITS ! thank you @dilfhos for beta reading this babe.
