lessons in touch
pairing: azriel x f!reader
summary: azrielâs curiosity and penchant for spying reveals exactly why youâve been moreâŚenthusiastic in bed lately
word count: 5.8k :0
warnings: smut (not super detailed)!! 18+ mdni pls, az being nosy
a/n: this is one of my faves so far :â) i have this persistent silly headcanon that az is the biggest busybody of them all and thatâs why heâs so good at his job
masterlist
banners by @/cafekitsune <3
Sex between you and Azriel was far from boring. It was a well known secret that Azriel had a predilection towards kink and experimentation, so your adventures with him between the sheets never left either of you dissatisfied. Far from it, actually.
Being with him was always pleasurable, wonderful, and unrivaled by any youâd had before him. During girls night, you had always attested to his prowess, said that his skills of observation extended past the battlefield and very much into the bedroom. And his wingspanâŚyou would neither confirm nor deny whether the theory around Illyrian males and their wingspan was true, much to their chagrin, but the mischievous smirk that curled your lips was all they needed to confirm their suspicions.
Azriel was a skilled lover; he knew your ins and outs, understood almost innately how to coax pleasure from you with a simple, well placed brush of his fingers. More often than not, Azriel had you in a puddle on the floor before he could even take his pants off. Which, ordinarily, was a more than welcome skill â you loved how well he knew you, adored how he loved you so much that his brain was like a file cabinet of information about things you liked.
But youâd grown frustrated lately, more and more desiring to reduce Azriel to the same pleasure filled putty that he so often did with you. His composure was infuriatingly ironclad; you knew he felt the same primal, overwhelming desire that you did â such was the nature of the mating bond â but he was much better at masking it.
In short, you wanted to know what made him tick, what made him beg and whimper and plead with you to touch him. Youâd been mated for a year now, and while his desire for you never waned, you had yet to find the one thing that made him sink to his knees and beg the way he so easily coaxed you to do for him.
It was no secret that your mate had a bold competitive streak. But your own stubbornness rivaled his own, leading to long, long card game nights and sparring matches â much to everyone elseâs entertainment.
Though you knew you had no reason to feel such competitiveness when matters of the bedroom were concerned, you couldnât help but feel a twinge of annoyance that Azriel had so easily figured out how to make you squirm in a multitude of ways â with all your cards on the table â while you were still somewhat in the dark about his most favored bedroom inclinations. Azriel kept the secrets of his hand close to his chest.
So you vowed to yourself that youâd figure it out, test his composure to see how exactly to make that beautiful, calm countenance crack. It was like a game, but one you were more than willing to play and even more determined to win.
Ever the observer however, Azriel caught on to the changes in your excitement beneath the sheets, amusement and adoration coursing through his veins as he reveled in your sudden vigor, never shying away from a challenge.
You had been more experimental in your bedroom endeavors as of late, asking him to bend you this way and that, introducing things that he never thought youâd be interested in â not that he was complaining in the slightest. Though your differences were strikingly obvious, Azriel would be lying if he said he wasnât curious about where your sudden interest in various sexual niches had sprung from.
Initially, it was all fun and games; if you wanted to explore then so be it â heâd match you stroke for stroke every time. But eventually, his nosiness had wedged its way deep into each crevice of his mind until he was all-consumed, curiosity devolving into a burgeoning anxiety.
Was something wrong?
Azriel was positive that if you were bored you would tell him. Had you heard something from one of the others that spurred you to want to explore more? Had you felt as though you had to introduce novelty every time to please him?
You had to have known that was far from the truth; no matter your state, Azriel had always made it clear to you that you were the most exquisite creature heâd ever had the privilege of knowing, let alone laying with. He didnât think there was anything wrongâŚat least not for him. Maybe you felt like something was missing.
âPenny for your thoughts, brother?â
Rhysâs voice snapped him out of his anxious musings. Azriel hadnât realized that he was pacing so furiously he could have worn a hole through the floor. Both Rhysand and Cassian had been watching with amusement glinting in their eyes. After all, it was a rare sight to see their ordinarily calm and stoic shadowsinger so worked up.
The same poker face Azriel had worn to win countless games of cards against his brothers masked his features now, but the twitch in his brow and the near missable ruffling of his wings were tells that Cassian and Rhysand were well acquainted with.
The shadowsinger had never perfected his stone faced indifference when he was thinking of you.
Cassian ventured a guess, âHave you upset Y/N?â
Cassian had meant to tease, but the way Azriel stayed silent had his eyebrow arching in question. Azriel ignored the curious glance from his brother as his mind ran in circles once more.
Had he upset you? Was your sudden experimentation in bed some roundabout way of telling him that he had done something to hurt you? No, noâŚthat didnât make sense, he was being illogical.
OrâŚHad he somehow missed picking up on something that you liked?
Your sudden interest in sexual exploration was far from a problem, but he got the niggling sense that you were up to something, playing a game that he wasnât privy to. And he wanted in.
Azriel was private by nature, never revealing more of his relationship with you than absolutely necessary to his brothers, not wanting to overshare in fear that heâd fall victim to their incessant teasing. But thisâŚmaybe it would be useful to get their opinions about your sudden change in interests? Cassian and Rhys were both mated males afterall, and maybe there was something Azriel was missing. He would never admit it to anyone but himself, but he fell victim to his crippling neuroticism more times than heâd like to. Curiosity and anxiety were two sides of the same coin.
So he indulged and told his brothers of your sudden vigor in bed, enthusiasm to try something new every single time. Youâd been insatiable as of late and he didnât know why; nothing had changed that he knew of and it was concerning him, he couldnât stand not knowing.
âSo,â Rhys started tentatively, narrowing his eyes in confusion, not quite grasping the issue that Azriel was so hesitant to endorse. âY/N is trying new things in bed.â
And elsewhere, Azriel thought with a ghost of a smile on his lips. Heâd leave that part out, though; Rhys probably wouldnât appreciate knowing the details about the going-ons in the dining room of the townhouse. And the gardens. And the hallways.
âAnd youâre complaining?â Cassian asked, incredulous, similarly at a loss for his brotherâs concern.
âIâm not complaining, Cass,â Azriel groaned and slumped unceremoniously into a chair (much like an irritated school child whoâd been caught doing something they werenât supposed to), immediately regretting his poorly thought out decision to confide in his brothers. âIâm just confused. I donât know what she wants.â
âHave you considered asking her?â Rhys inquired, infuriatingly teasing smile curving his lips.
Azriel deadpanned and clicked his tongue, not believing that Rhys would assume he was so inept at communicating with his lover, âOf course Iâve asked. She just says nothingâs changed. I believe her, but itâs still bothering me and I donât know why.â
Both Cassian and Rhys resisted the urge to laugh, mentally conversing about how Azrielâs affections for you often reduced him to an adolescent-like lovesickness, begging and willing to please. Az had been this way since they were children; fiercely competitive and subsequently pouty if he didnât have the upper hand, always wanting to know and learn everything he could.
This side of the shadowsinger was one that did not make an appearance often, reserving itself until he was around the few he trusted wholeheartedly.
The past couple of centuries saw even less of this endearingly childish and competitive Azriel â even around his closest friends â as Night Court duties and his identity as Spymaster overshadowed most opportunities to be vulnerable in his relationships.
But when you came around, light began to spark beneath the shadowy depths of Azrielâs countenance as you slowly coaxed him to trust and love as fiercely as everyone knew he was capable of, with the reckless abandon that his childhood self so easily embodied.
âMaybe check her nightstand,â Cassian teased with a wink, only half joking, as a quiet happiness bubbled within him at the small glimpses of Azrielâs vulnerability. âSome of Nestaâs best kept secrets are hidden there.â
Before Azriel could furrow his brow and chastise his brother for snooping through his mateâs belongings, a realization hit him.
Nesta.
You had been spending an awfully large amount of time with the eldest Archeron sister in the library lately, choosing to hole up there in lieu of your other hobbies when you werenât training or engaging in your various other Night Court duties.
But Nesta would be a dead end. There was no way he could approach her without tipping you off to his secret sleuthing. Though he and Nesta were friends, her loyalties laid with you; there was an unexplainable female camaraderie between you â a chosen sisterhood, if you will â and if he asked if she knew anything about what was going on, sheâd go running to you, mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
The conversation with his brothers was about as helpful as he initially thought it would be, and he let himself succumb to their jokes about how wrapped around your finger he was. Azriel had endured it graciously, knowing better than anyone that they were right, that he was indeed wrapped so tightly around your little finger that he was unsure of where he ended and you began. That he would gratefully stay in the palm of your hand for as long as you would allow.
But that night, after you had told him not to wait up for you because youâd be having drinks with Feyre and Mor, Cassianâs voice reverberated insistently in his mind.
Check her nightstandâŚbest kept secretsâŚ
Azriel resisted the urge to snoop for all of ten minutes before his inherent nosiness clouded his judgment and got the better of him; afterall, his love for secrets is what made him such an effective spymaster. Before he knew it, he was rolling onto your side of the bed, inquisitive hands pulling open your bedside drawer.
Hidden among the small stack of books he had given you was a thick novel with a cover he recognized, but gave no second thought.
It was a book you said Nesta had lent you. When he asked if you liked it you said it was âonly okayâ and that youâd let him know if he should read it when you were finished. Despite your lukewarm review, however, it had never left your side, and he had found you on more than one occasion cozied up with it in your hands, cheeks dusted with a heat he knew all too well.
Azriel was well aware of the content of the books Nesta favored, often lending a reluctant ear to a whiny Cassian whenever she paid more attention to her books than him.
But there was no way your sudden excitement for novelty in the bedroom could be inspired by Nestaâs smutty recommendationsâŚright? He leafed through, assessing hazel eyes quickly skimming the paragraphs, catching glimpses of the prose that had you so enraptured.
Azriel felt the back of his neck heat.
It was smut, as he assumed. But this was trulyâŚfilth. Pure, unadulterated, filthy smut.
Azriel was a lover of all books, never having been one to categorize or judge them by popular opinion. And, to be completely fair, he had read a decent amount of books filled with sex and romance.
ButâŚhe was sure that the acts detailed in this one would make even the Court of Nightmaresâs debauchery look saintly. Even Azriel, who had been correctly assumed to be the kinkiest of the Inner Circle, felt tame in comparison to the words flickering across the pages of your book. How did you read this with such impassivity on your face?
Azriel snapped the book shut with such force the pages blew a cool, gentle breeze onto his heating face. He tried â and failed â to not picture you in the position the main character in your book was described in, unintentionally sending a soft hum of his burgeoning arousal down your bond. He was beginning to understand your desire to replicate the more salacious scenes detailed in your novels.
Having fun without me, Az? Came your teasing inquiry in his mind, as he meticulously replaced all of your belongings into your nightstand.
Donât be nosy, he quipped back, extremely aware of the irony of his statement. And then after a beat he added, answering your question with a sincerity that never failed to grip your heart, Never without you, love.
You left him waiting for a response a little bit longer than you normally would as you attempted to control the thundering beat of your heart in your chest. You were convinced that no amount of time could ever diminish the effects that Azrielâs blatant display of love had on your composure. As much as he was wrapped around your little finger, you were just as tightly wrapped around his.
I take back what I said earlier, wait up for me.
Azriel smirked to himself, feeling a flare of triumph, Itâs a date, then. Maybe Iâll find something interesting to read in the meantime.
If you caught on to his sly insinuation, you did not let on, just continued bantering with him for a few moments before returning your full attention to your friends, who were no doubt attempting to extract morsels of information from your obviously lascivious exchange with your lover.
But that night â even after Azriel had promptly fucked you into a blissful oblivion â had yielded no more information about your recent proclivity for finding a new kink, so Azriel did what he did best and spied.
He kept a watchful eye on the books you read, and tracked the times you asked him to try something new. He spent more time in the library than necessary under the guise that Rhys had put him up to some research.
Which was only half of a lie. He was in there to do reconnaissance, yes, just not for Rhys.
Azriel scanned the bookshelves for anything that seemed like it had been recently replaced, pages still clinging to the sweet scent of your skin. A title he recognized caught his eye and he slotted it out of place, flipping through the pages to confirm his suspicions.
This book was shorter than the others heâd seen you carry around, but certainly no less obscene. A smirk pulled at Azrielâs lips as he read a dog eared chapter that you had clearly marked for inspiration, recollections of your most recent tryst in his office flooding his awareness.
. Ýâ âš . ÝË . Ý
You had sauntered into his small, private study at the House of Wind, short dress skimming the curves of your thighs as you bent to greet him with a kiss to his cheek. Heâd been distracted at the time â surveying maps and cross referencing with ancient textbooks â and barely tore his attention away from his work long enough to squeeze your hand in greeting.
But you didnât seem to mind, opting to make yourself comfortable and purveying the books neatly organized on his shelves. When youâd found a book you thought would be interesting enough â though probably not quite as interesting as the one youâd just finished, per Nestaâs recommendation â you settled into the armchair across Azrielâs desk, shoulders against one armrest as your legs draped over the other.
Azriel looked up at you then, soft smile curving his lips. He loved when you kept him company while he worked; somehow, whenever you were around, work never seemed nearly as daunting or overwhelming.
You met his gaze with your own grin, silently communicating your support of him in the way that only mates could, tugging gently on the bond before winking at him and resettling your attention back to the book in your lap.
The both of you worked in that wonderfully comfortable silence for a while before Azriel caught you fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. The sun had begun its routine descent below the horizon, cool breeze stirring the sheer curtains framing his windows. Though summer had plagued the days with heat and humidity, the nights were still cool as the last dregs of spring eked away.
He looked up, intending on asking if you needed anything â a blanket, maybe â but the words died swiftly in his throat when he eyed a flash of bare skin as you swung your legs to stand, showcasing just enough for him to clue in to the fact that you were indeed not wearing underwear. Or anything else under your dress, if the peak of your nipples beneath the silk was anything to go by.
Selfishly, for a brief moment, Azriel decided that maybe keeping the windows open wouldnât be so bad.
He pried his eyes away from your form making its way back to his bookcase, and instead attempted to tamp down the raging lust stirring in his belly so he could focus. But the mental picture of what he knew lay beneath the barely there fabric of your dress coupled with your scent made the lines on the map he was studying blur into nonsense.
Though intelligent and compassionate at heart, Azriel often found himself a slave to his baser male instincts when it came to you. There was little â if anything â you could do to quell the raging need to touch you, kiss you, be near you at all hours of the day; his desire for you was a constant hum belying his daily routine. He had not one iota of self control when you were involved, much to his simultaneous thrill and chagrin.
Inwardly, he cursed himself as he stole another glance at you as you stretched onto your toes to reach a book on the top shelf.
Beauty incarnate, truly, he thought. Azrielâs eyes tracked each slope and valley of the lines of your body, taking his time to commit each curve to memory, the way he should have been doing with the maps sitting now uselessly on his desk.
You looked at him over your shoulder, small pout on your lips, âAz, can you help me? I canât reach.â
Azrielâs heart leapt. Itâs like you were doing it on purpose, and in hindsight you definitely were. But despite the gnawing adoration encouraging him to fall to his knees and worship at your feet, he stood with the cool grace of someone unperturbed by their mateâs subtle seduction.
Azriel obliged you, coming up behind you, one hand curling around your hip to steady himself as the other reached easily to the top shelf to grab the book your fingertips skimmed. As he leaned forward, you could feel the hard planes of his chest against your back and you wanted to abandon all your plans to slowly seduce Azriel into a puddle on the floor, but you remained steadfast in your decision. Nesta had pushed a book into your hands and said she tried this once with Cassian and that the resulting hours were pure heaven, and you wanted to test the theory, curiosity rivaling that of your mateâs.
You barely registered Azriel putting the book in your hands, too lost in the warmth of his familiar touch. But you composed yourself quickly, leaning back into him to kiss him in thanks, not so subtly pushing your ass back into his hips. A feeling of revelry settled in your chest when you felt him already half hard beneath his pants, his fingers curling tighter around your hip.
Oh so reluctantly, you pulled away, perfect picture of obliviousness as you plopped back down on the armchair you were occupying previously.
Azriel thought he would collapse in on himself when you went to sit back down. You had him so tightly ensnared it was like he was still in the midst of the initial mating frenzy. He briefly wondered if the mind-boggling need for you would ever go away, though part of him knew hoped it never would.
He took a moment to compose himself â if that was even possible when oneâs mate was clearly playing a dangerous game of seduction â bracing himself with one arm steady against the bookshelf.
Despite how much Azriel so greatly wanted to shirk his responsibilities to bend you over his desk, he wouldnât. Not yet anyway. The work day wasnât quite over, and the plans he was making for you would surely last too long to finish his research afterwards. So he steeled himself and took a deep, steadying breath, willing his blood to fill his head again so he could think with some semblance of clarity.
Though at baseline, he always found it difficult to think rationally when you were around.
While Azriel was trying â and failing â to regain his composure, you were feigning extreme interest in the book you had selected at random: The History and Systems of Fae War Treaties.
If Azriel had been paying any attention to what you were reaching for, heâd have caught on to your ploy, but luckily for you the mere sight of you was enough to render him at least somewhat incapacitated.
You took a peek at him over the back of the chair, triumphant satisfaction crooking your lips into a mischievous smile. Maybe this would be the day he finally cracks, you think to yourself.
But as the sun dipped lower beneath the skyline of Velaris below, and as Azriel stubbornly worked away at his desk, you felt the tiredness of the day settle into your bones, pull you deeper into the plush leather of Azrielâs loveseat. Cassian had run you ragged with training this morning, and Rhys and Amren had your mind working tirelessly as the three of you attempted to draft a peace treaty in a meager four hours.
But you wouldnât sleep, not yet, not until you had reduced Azriel to a beautiful, orgasmic mess in his chair. Not until the hazel of his eyes were blown dark with desire and pleading as you straddled his hips.
The next hour was a fight to stay awake as the words on the pages in your lap began to blur into obscurity, mind muddling with theories and questions â though the book was an off handed choice, you couldnât deny that the information was coincidentally incredibly pertinent to the discussion you were having with Rhys and Amren earlier in the day.
The telltale sigh of a dayâs work completed pulled your attention away from your book, gaze settling on your mate. His hair was mused in a way that told you he had spent the last however long skating his fingers through it, but as always it fell perfectly across his forehead in defiance of the tiredness creeping up his neck.
Azrielâs eyes met yours and apparently your coy seduction earlier still held his body in a vice, evident in the way he stood and stalked to you. There was a cool, domineering edge to his movements and you knew your plan had worked to a degree, but the determination you had to break him down had leeched out of you the same way the night had stolen the dayâs heat.
You hummed in satisfaction as he leaned down to kiss you, the pressure gentle and so, so sweet. A stark contrast to the dark and tempting storm of desire Azriel flooded your senses with down the bond.
Never once breaking the contact of your kiss, heâd wedged a knee between your legs as one hand braced against the arm of the loveseat while the other danced at the hem of your dress, endearingly asking for permission.
Your mouth curved against his and you guided his hand up to your hip, gasping delightedly when his hand tracked further up your waist, bringing the hem of your dress up with it as he slotted your hips more comfortably against his leg.
His lips traced a scalding trail of open mouthed kisses against your jaw, your neck, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest that had your hips rolling against him.
âSo bold for me,â he said, his hand skating across your unclothed skin while he urged your hips to grind a little harder against his thigh. You gasped, the pressure so wonderfully perfect against your cunt.
Though your initial intention was to get Azriel all hot and bothered, you couldnât deny that the game you had set yourself up in had the same effect on you; the lingering, almost lazy path his eyes swept over your body every time you shifted across from him left heat singing between your legs, untamed longing for you dancing down the golden thread between you.
âAzâŚâ you rasped, arching your hips up to meet his still clothed body, the top of your dress pushed languidly down to your waist as Azriel played slow music on the skin of your breasts. The loveseat was a cramped fit at best, but Azrielâs surprising flexibility and dexterity made it work despite the general largeness of his wings and frame. Heâd made even the smallest corners of the House work for your sexual escapades.
The memories of all the scandalous little happenings you two have been partaking in the past few months flitted across your mindâs eye like an erotic slideshow, and you groaned. Legs tightening around his in desperate search for more friction, more contact, more of him. His name on your lips again was a wanton plea, a sound so wonderfully obscene Azriel almost came in his pants.
âHmm?â He hummed, closing his lips around your nipple, teeth gently tugging before his tongue was quick to soothe the ache. The way your hips were grinding so shamelessly against him had his head spinning with a swirling mix of lust and love, and he clung to the last shreds of self discipline he had. It was all he could do to not tear both of your clothes off and sink himself deep into your brilliant warmth.
Azriel had always been patient, mastery over his desire was a skill heâd honed meticulously over the past few centuries â though you had a way of quickly unraveling his self control with one flutter of your eyelashes. But he wanted to make this last for you, wanted to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible. So he pressed his thigh more firmly between your legs, his own hips slotting against the side of your body.
You gasped at the feel of him, of how hard he was against your hip, and you tried to reach him, tried to get him to release some of the tension you knew coiled in his belly. He groaned deep and breathless when you pressed insistently against him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he continued his ministrations on your body.
Azrielâs hands were everywhere, trailing paths around your breasts, up your neck, into your hair, and between your legs the way he no doubt was doing with the maps on his desk earlier.
It was infuriating how close you were already, how swiftly the tables had turned (though you half blamed the sudden onset of your fatigue the day had cursed you with), how with one well placed touch you were on the brink of collapse at Azrielâs mercy yet again.
He was urging your hips faster now, his fingers and lips making quick work of all the places he knew would have you keening. And before you could even register that he was still fully clothed, hard cock still straining against the confines of his pants, you were falling, breathless and dizzy with release.
The night had been far from over. You came twice more in that godsdamned loveseat â once with his fingers buried inside you and another time with his head between your legs â before he whisked you away to your bedroom where you finally, finally felt the delicious stretch of him inside you.
By the time the sun was making its appearance over the horizon once more, you had lost count of how many times Azriel had you begging.
. Ýâ âš . ÝË . Ý
Though your spicy little rendezvous in his office â and encore in the bedroom â wasnât quite an exact replica of what played out in the book you had apparently just read, Azriel had thought your coy seduction had its intended effect. Heâd been so fucking desperate for you that he couldnât wait until you were out of his study to have you coming for him.
But, as he skimmed the pages of the chapter you marked, he couldnât help but think that maybe he wouldnât mind being fully at the mercy of your whims, wouldnât mind submitting to the pleasure that you so easily coaxed from him. He was already always so eager to please you, so willing to crawl to the ends of the earth for you if you had so much as suggested you wanted him to.
âAzriel?â Nestaâs voice dripped with wicked amusement, effectively pulling him from his erotic reverie. âI never thought Iâd see you in this section of the library.â
Fuck.
He hadnât anticipated that heâd run into Nesta, a severely idiotic oversight on his part considering the Houseâs library was something akin to her own personal sanctuary. Azriel turned slowly on his heels to face her, mind working in overdrive to come up with a viable excuse for him being there.
âNesta,â was all he came up with. Pathetic.
Her smirk turned deadly when she realized he was floundering. Arms crossed over her chest, chin tilted ever so slightly upwards, she looked the very portrait of smug amusement; he would expect nothing less of his friend who moonlighted as Lady Death.
Nestaâs eyes dropped to the book he forgot he was holding, and her eyebrows shot up in understanding, âAh, I just recommended that one to Y/N. She gave it a hefty five stars. Said it wasâŚintriguing.â
Nestaâs sly comments were enough to confirm Azrielâs suspicions that you were taking bedroom inspiration from the arsenal of smutty books the House stocked. And, with the way Nesta was biting her tongue, he could tell that she knew exactly why he was there.
Cassian, that fucking mouthy bastard.
Before Azriel could open his mouth to tell her that it wasnât what it looked like â even though they both knew it was exactly what it looked like â Nesta stalked past him, pulling books off the shelf with striking precision. With a stack of five books balanced on one hand, she took the one Azriel was holding and reshelved it.
âThese are Y/Nâs favorite,â she said, this time with a little bit more softness and understanding as she placed them gingerly in his arms. âIâm sure sheâd love if you read them.â
Azriel scanned each cover, a fond smile working to tilt the corners of his lips. You did love these; he had been familiar with these covers long before you were even mated, always keeping a lovingly watchful eye on the things you enjoyed, filing the knowledge away in his mind for later.
âThanks, Nesta,â he said sincerely, adoration for you filling his chest with warmth as he remembered the excitement lighting your eyes while you read these books, cute flush radiating off your cheeks.
Nesta only nodded, giving his shoulder an encouraging few pats as she stalked off to another aisle, no doubt scouring the shelves for a new read.
. Ýâ âš . ÝË . Ý
Azriel told himself that heâd only read a few chapters â for research â but he hadnât realized that heâd spent the better half of his day off lounging on the loveseat in his study.
Despite his previous reservations around the smutty books youâd so lovingly treasured, he found he was enjoying them â and not just for the well written, detailed sex scenes that you were pulling ideas from. He was two-thirds of the way through the second book, in the midst of the big climax, when you snuck up on him.
âIt seems youâve discovered my dirty little secret,â you said coyly, arms coming up behind him to snake around his shoulders.
Azriel jumped at your sudden appearance, inwardly cursing himself for teaching you how to sneak up on someone so effectively. He closed the book swiftly, feeling a flustered blush creep up his neck.
You pouted and rested your chin on his shoulder, âAw, you were just getting to the best part! Donât stop reading on my account.â
Azriel groaned but gave in, leaning back into your touch, âDonât tease me.â
âI would never tease you, my love,â you said mockingly before kissing his cheek. âIt is really the best part, though. The paint sceneââ
Before you could regale the details of the main charactersâ sexual escapades, Azriel took your chin in his fingers and slotted his lips over yours in a silent plea to stop your innocent tormenting. He reveled in the way you kissed him back without pause; he didnât think heâd ever get used to the way you loved him as eagerly as he did you.
âDirty little secret, huh?â He quipped, lips brushing yours as a bemused smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. You rolled your eyes as you made your way around the back of the chair, gesturing for him to uncross his legs so you could settle yourself on his lap.
Your weight was a welcome comfort as he continued prodding you, âIs this why youâve been soâŚeager lately?â
âI didnât think youâd notice,â you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as he scoffed in mock disbelief.
âGive me some credit love, I notice everything when it comes to you.â Came his quick response.
You pursed your lips, half in childish dissatisfaction that your little game was over, âI just wanted to know how to get you to beg for me. I needed ideas.â
Your nonchalance belied the wicked sensuality of your words and he chuckled, wrapping his wings around you both before mapping a scathing trail of kisses up your neck. The pillowy feel of his lips brushing your ear made you shudder, his teeth nibbling playfully at your earlobe as he hummed deep in his chest, âWe have a lifetime together, thereâs no rush. But since you want it so badly, shall I show you how well I can beg for you?â
Azrielâs offer sent an exhilarating shiver down your spine, and you so desperately wanted to give in, wanted to watch him come undone beneath you as he pleaded with you to touch him. But you shook your head despite yourself, competitive stubbornness the only barrier between you and what you wanted.
âI want to earn it, make you want me so bad you canât help yourself.â
Your words were a breathy murmur that nearly had Azriel flipping you over right there on the too small lounge chair, but he resisted, prioritizing his assurances that you were the only thing he wanted every second of every day.
âThatâs the thing, beloved,â he whispered in your ear, deep voice doused in honey reverberating in your bones as your desire flared so wildly it made you lightheaded. His hand, calloused palms rough against your skin, skated beneath the hem of your dress to grab hold of your hip and move you so you were straddling him.
This was the image you played over and over in your mind. The unbridled, unrestrained look of pleading in his eyes that blew his pupils wide, that had his hips shifting against yours in a display of just how much he wanted you.
âI always want you,â he continued. âIâd beg for you like I am dying of dehydration and you are my oasis. Just ask, and Iâll do exactly as you say.â
You were mesmerized, finger tracing the sharp contours of his jawline before ending at his chin, tilting his gaze up with the same practiced dominance youâd seen him slip into countless times before. You savored the way he shuddered at your touch, pretty lips parting as his chest heaved.
The corner of your mouth quirked, your breath a ghost over his lips, âShow me, then.â
2K notes
¡
View notes
You have been visited by the Chan of wealth, reblog this and you will have money come to you!
1M notes
¡
View notes
MODERN OBI-WAN KENOBI BOYF HC
I havenât ever done a head cannon post but with how busy / lazy Iâve been I might post more of these, theyâre a lot of fun. probably one for Bucky and Luke skywalker. If you want any other characters just lmk! Make sure to check my request post!
warning: nsfw content (labeled so if you want to skip you totally can)
tea guy, like, itâs crazy. has so many drawers full of boxes and bags. always making you tea to fit whatever mood youâre in
landscaper or teacher, or both. I imagine him teaching younger kids but probably wishes to be a professor of some sort, maybe teaching environmental science.
just really likes plants and flowers but sometimes gets tired of having to craft and trim everything to be perfect so he thoroughly enjoys natural nature and the âovergrownâ aesthetic
Adding onto that, loves to hike, always takes you with and nerds out about the scenery and views.
definitely fosters dogs from the local shelter and takes them on hikes to help leash train them.
unintentionally a pretentious little prick
circle lens glasses and turtle neck combo 24/7
And of course you steal his sweaters ALL THE TIME
Smells like citrus, grass and rain. the warm sun rays and vanilla
Always watching some documentary, or the history channel.
All your friends lowkey want him because heâs. That Guy.
Whenever he blushes it goes straight to his nose, ears and neck.
Frequent at most coffee shops in town so when he started to bring you around it was a big deal for the workers lol, so much gossip. And mild disappointment from the staff knowing obi wan was official taken
Probably hates small talk, finds it tedious and shallow
The most supportive boyfriend in the world, heâs always the first person there to cheer you on
When you started dating him, his cousin/best friend, Anakin, came as a packaged deal. The younger one frequently trailing behind obi wan and now, as youâve got too closer, you as heâs become a younger brother figure to you.
Not jealous at all, heâs very secure in your relationship and his trust in you is crazy strong. finds it quite amusing when men hit on you in front of him and kinda just lets you play it out.
That is unless you become uncomfortable, he mostly lets you stand up for yourself but if it becomes overbearing he definitely wonât hesitate to cause a small scene.
A big runner and boxer, youâre used to having to help his knuckles heal up from long sessions. As well as joining him on early morning runs if he can get you up and out of bed for it.
He loves art and mostly drew and painted landscapes but after meeting you this sketch book began to fill of pictures of you from every angle possible.
So naturally put together all the time it makes you insecure sometimes
Obviously, obi wan is the best at easing those insecurities. He always notices when youâre feeling off, sometimes even before yourself, so quick to embrace you and whisper exactly what you need to hear.
Another thing, so good with his words??? He always tell you what you need to hear, thereâs rarely ever any miscommunication between the two of you because of this and even when theyâre are, arguments are not common.
Crazy sarcastic, will say the funniest shit ever with the most monotone face and it just makes it 100% times funnier.
Really likes Taylor swift and David Bowie
Always getting you bouquets of flowers, even arranges them himself sometimes.
âThis reminded me of you.â
Such a safe and non-judgemental aura, youâd struggle with asking for help or learning new / seemingly âcommon senseâ things with past relationships in fear of seeming dumb but you feel so safe around obi-wan that those thoughts never cross your mind, always learning new things from him and enjoying how helpful and supportive he is.
Definitely an impala driver, either 40s Chevy impala or the very sleek and fancy 2020 impala premier, probably black and rarely dirty
Not the biggest cuddler in the world but really enjoys naps together, will drape an arm over you but he tends to move around in his sleep so heâs just content with sleeping besides you rather than wrapping limbs
But when he is in the mood to cuddle, itâs mostly on the couch when you decides to binge shitty reality television. Heâs usually on his back and youâre laying ontop of his stomach with your ear to his chest
You two constantly binge dating reality shows, always criticizing the other couple and mostly men LOL.
âHe did not just say that! Maker, you would have broke up with me then and there.â âDamn right I would.â
You trace all the moles and freckles along his body, obi wan definitely had a skin care routine and moisturizes so I imagine his skin is always so soft
NSFW!
really likes nudes, like the grainy MacBook camera pictures with a matching cute set type nudes (iykyk). Hot and slightly artistic, his favorite.
Doesnât like porn though, never enjoyed it and it never really got him off, doesnât like the morals of it either
Also sexting, not his thing. Heâs usually more on the serious end when it comes to intimacy but he cannot take sexting seriously LMAOO
lowkey the type to come home from a long day of work and look you in the eye with That Look and you just know what he needs
Thigh guy, the type to take breaks from eating you out by just resting his head fully on your inner thigh and just gaze up at you
Sir / master kink
Will jokingly come up behind you when youâre in the kitchen or something and press his groin to your behind
Just a little tease overall, always doing shit like that and acting all innocent about it
VERY VERY vocal during sex (cough, cough, shallow graves ending scene, COUGH)
369 notes
¡
View notes
no one is ready for how annoying iâm going to be about this
go little rockstar đŤ
659 notes
¡
View notes
New Tricks
Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 9.5k
Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, youâre ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didnât count on, is your brotherâs best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead
What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you â one confession in particular.Â
Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.
Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky
Authorâs Note: betaâd by my baby @rookthorne
Okay, so where to start with this⌠the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone đ and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you đ
These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them đ for all my playlist lovers, youâre welcome - new tricks playlist â¤ď¸
I hope you enjoy this as much as Iâve loved creating it đĽš
Standing outside of your brotherâs apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door.Â
âOh, forââ You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time, when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall. Â
Bucky â your brotherâs roommate, best friend, and your crush â sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck.Â
The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him â nonetheless, youâre thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again.Â
Excellent, you inwardly sigh.
âButtercup,â Bucky says â the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. Youâre left fighting internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level. âHey, you. Sorry I didnât hear you; I was listening to music.âÂ
Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck. Oh, how you wished you could run your hands throughâ
âHey, you okay?â he asks, furrowing his brows.Â
Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. âSorry, Buck,â you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. âWhat was that?â
His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. âItâs fine, doll. Everything okay?âÂ
No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brotherâs best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind.Â
âCan I come in?â you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Buckyâs eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. âStevie planned our movie night and he isnât answering his phone â I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.âÂ
The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes.Â
âSurely he didnât forget,â you accuse, still staring into Buckyâs face. âI make the trip down from campus every two weeks. Itâs been two weeks.â A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Buckyâs eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth â a sight far too hard to ignore. âWhy are you looking at me like that?âÂ
âUmâ I justââ Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget â a nervous tic. If he didnât look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. âI just thought thatâ Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.âÂ
You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation.Â
Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, âYou know, because of his date, anâ all.â His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic.Â
âWhat do you mean date, Barnes?â The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you donât let up. Thereâs music playing from down the hall of the apartment â right where Steveâs bedroom is. âWhatâs going on?âÂ
Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. âIâ Look, I didnât knowââÂ
You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. âFine,â you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.
Buckyâs frantic footsteps behind you donât deter your haste. âWait, stop â Buttercup, wait!â
Forgoing a courtesy knock â having had enough of banging on his front door â you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning.Â
âWhat the shitââÂ
The door to Steveâs bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. âSis! Hey,â he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. âWhatâre you doingâ?âÂ
In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. âDonât you hey sis me.â The fear in Steveâs eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. âWhat do you mean youâre going on a date? Itâs movie night!âÂ
Steve has the decency to look ashamed. âFlower, I swear, Iâm sorry,â he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. âI wouldâve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.âÂ
The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Rogerâs charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. âI swear sis, I wouldnât bail on you without a good reason.â
âOkay,â you say, staring into his face â still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. âSo, who is this good enough reason?â
âNatasha Romanoff.â The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steveâs lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance. Â
The fact that he has been obsessed with the collegeâs most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all.Â
And, in the end, itâs how you decide to let him off the hook â though not without teasing him, first. âNo way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?âÂ
Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. âFine,â you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. âIâll let you off this time.â
âIâll make it up to you, Flower,â Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids.Â
âGood,â you say, smiling softly. âI expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.â
Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed.Â
âIâll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.âÂ
It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone.Â
You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. âHow about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?âÂ
You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. âStevie,â you admonish, âBucky does not want to waste a Friday night with meââ
âI donât mind!â Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over.Â
Had he been listening that whole time?Â
Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky may have made was a burden you did not want to bear, and you couldnât fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friendâs little sister. âThank you, Bucky, thatâs really sweet of you,â you placate, smiling at him. âBut I know youâve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.â
Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. âActually, Buttercup,â he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. âA movie night with you sounds perfect.âÂ
The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. âReally?â
ââCourse,â he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. âItâll be fun.â
His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over. Â
With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steveâs lips. Â
âOkay,â Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you canât help but be frustrated by his stalling. âBe good and behave while Iâm gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes â Bucky, her bedtime is ten oâclock sharp.â
The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. âGet out, Stevie,â you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. âDonât you have to go see Natasha?â
âYeah,â Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. âDonât you?â
Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump.Â
You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steveâs face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose. âGet the hell outta here already, punk.â
With Steve distracted by Buckyâs betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. âHeyâ!â The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off.Â
Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle â evidently not finished in the war of quips.Â
Buckyâs laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door.Â
With the end of Steveâs attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. âBye Stevie!â you call through the door, âHave fun, wear protection!â
Steveâs reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away. Â
Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, âBucky, what are you doing?â
He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. âIâm, uhâ Iâm setting up? For the movieâ?â
You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone. Â
âOh, sweetie,â you coo, walking closer. âI thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. Itâll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?âÂ
The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. âAh! Uhâ Okay, we⌠We can if you want?â
You nod once. âAbsolutely. Iâd rather be in your bed any day, then out here,â you tease, amused by the way Buckyâs eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, âBut first, letâs clean this up.âÂ
Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf.Â
The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. âWhy donât I grab a couple?âÂ
âSure,â Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. âI mean, why not? May as well go all out.â
You grin and grab a couple of cases. âDo you need some helpââ
âNo, Iâve got it, Bubs,â Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom.Â
Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. âDid you grab the snacks?â
âYeah!â Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you.Â
A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand. Â
The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. âItâs no different, itâs no different,â you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence.Â
Though, it is short lived.Â
Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand.Â
A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works.Â
âOkay,â he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. âYou ready, Bubs?â Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off.Â
You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steveâs apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind â flustering him has given you a rush of confidence beforeâŚÂ
âAlmost,â you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and youâre left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. âNow I am.â
A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Buckyâs desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious.Â
His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you.Â
âBuck?â you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. âYou okay?â
The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats.Â
Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. âYeah. Yep,â Bucky coughs. âMhm. Just great, thanks.â He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. âYouâre really wearing those? Uhâ Just those, I mean?âÂ
You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. âOf course, silly,â you tease, shaking your head once. âI always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.â
The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet.Â
Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadnât been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.
âBuck?â A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. âBucky?â you try again, âAre you ready?â
âUhâ Yeah, yes,â he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar â wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck. Â
Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company.Â
This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence.Â
Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brotherâs apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone.Â
âWhy donât weâ?â You gesture towards Buckyâs bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. âThis is perfect,â you sigh, happy and content.Â
âAnd where am I meant to sit?â Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. âYou blanket hog.â
âFine,â you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets.Â
âWhy, thank you, madame,â Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.
The broadness of his shoulders donât leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesnât push you away or say anything.
âAre you ready now?â you ask, reaching for the remote. âFor the movie?â
âYeah, go ahead,â he rasps, nodding quickly.
Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence â half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink. Â
That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge â let him speak first, you chided yourself.Â
âSo,â Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. âHow are your classes going, Buttercup?âÂ
You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but heâs already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV.Â
âTheyâre going good,â you reply, just as quietly. âYeah, theyâre busy â hectic, even, but good.âÂ
The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him â your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. âThis time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,â you continue, shrugging your shoulders. âBut Iâm managing okay, thanks.âÂ
Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. âYeah, all those art projects youâve gotta finish, it must be tiring.âÂ
Shock slackens your features and you reel back â you could not recall telling him what you studied. âHow do you know what major Iâm taking?â
âIâ um,â Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. âI hear you talking to Steve about it. Yâknow, whenâ When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.âÂ
You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, âI see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, andâ And from the window, when Iâm actually studying.â
Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadnât noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldnât help but feel endeared over it.Â
Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, âHowâs, uhâ Howâs training going for football season this year?â Â
Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, âOh, itâs goodâ Yeah, itâs great. Coach says Iâm progressing well, so Iâm doing alright, I guess.â
âSo modest, Buck,â you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. âDonât you sell yourself short, Iâve seen you play â youâre amazing!âÂ
He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. âYou really think so?âÂ
âBucky,â you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is. Â
âListen to me, honey,â you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. âEveryone can see it, all of us â all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. Weâre all screaming for you.â
His skin is warm under your palm, but you donât remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. âYouâre amazing.â
Bucky stays silent â contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night.Â
There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection â and from what Steve had slipped in the past â no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didnât brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus.Â
Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. âSpeaking of, shouldnât you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely youâve got tons of girls lined up for you.â Â
Buckyâs silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing.Â
âBuck?â You sit up and look into his face. Itâs pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. âHey, did I say something wrong? Iâm so sorryââ
âNo! Noâ I⌠fuck.â Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. âOh, God,â he groans, muffled by his hands. âShit.â
âBuckyââ You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. Youâve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. âIâ Iâll go, itâs alright, Iâm sorry,â you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. âWhat was that, I didnâtâ?â
A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. âIhaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.â
âSweetheart,â you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair heâs so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. âI did not understand a word of what you just said.âÂ
Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. âIâ uh.â His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, âI havenât even had my first kiss yet.âÂ
His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Buckyâs face.Â
Okay, you think privately, so what?Â
Bucky hasnât kissed anyone before. It was justifiable â too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didnât have to make a big deal out of this. âThatâs okayââ Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt.Â
If Bucky hasnât had his first kiss⌠âDoesâ Wait, does that meanâ?â
âYes.â Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you â it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. âIâm a virgin.â
Now that catches you off guard.Â
Bucky⌠is a virgin?Â
Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match.Â
Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression.Â
âOh,â you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. âOh, Bucky.â
No other words come to mind.Â
When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts.Â
You had been there once, and what you wouldnât have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly â like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully.Â
The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him.Â
Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know heâs embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession.Â
Itâs difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands, and you almost feel guilty for it; heâs in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty.Â
From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldnât bear it any longer.Â
Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past. And while Buckyâs virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket.Â
What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?
To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs.Â
Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees.Â
âWhatâ What are you doingâ?â Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch. Â
The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical.Â
You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. âButtercup, pleaseâ This is embarrassing enoughââ
âBucky,â you whisper, cutting him off. âLook at me.â
Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. âKiss me.âÂ
âButââ He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting.Â
You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, âPlease?â
He looks at you as though youâve grown two heads. âIâ What, I mean,â he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you â terrified of taking it a step too far. âI donât knowââ
âAw, Buck,â you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Buckyâs toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away â not wanting to frighten him. âIâll show you, okay?â
âYeah.â The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.
âHere we go,â you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. âIâve got you.â
You slowly and steadily move closer to Buckyâs face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.
âOkay,â Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. âOkay. That was okay.â
âSee? Itâs not so bad,â you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. âYour turn.â From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through.Â
Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek.Â
This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance.Â
You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing â he shouldnât have to be ashamed to want it. âGood, that was good,â you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.
He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. âNow, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.â
âOhâ Okay, okay,â he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap.Â
That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth.Â
There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves.Â
Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face.Â
âYouâre okay, Buck,â you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. âYouâre okay. Iâve got you.â
A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.
There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek.Â
âThatâs it,â you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.
Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesnât move away, rather, he decides to stay close. âYou did good,â you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. âOhââ
The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes.Â
Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat. Â
âOkay,â Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. âOkay, okay. Justââ His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session.Â
Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back â he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.
âYou did it, sweetheart,â you coo, keeping your voice low. âIâm so proud of you.â
âThâ Thanks,â he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think. Â
You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.
âDo you want more?â you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension.Â
A harsh breath falls from Buckyâs lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time.Â
Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings. Â
The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly â puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close.Â
But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard.Â
The silence is not deafening â not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly.Â
Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before.Â
You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like itâs lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another.Â
Itâs difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you.Â
And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. âI wantââÂ
To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss. Â
Bucky canât get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You canât be mad for it, not when heâs a sensational kisser â heâs good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries.Â
You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.
The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss.Â
You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little â the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Buckyâs tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move.Â
Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that â itâs dangerous.Â
It escalates â tongues dance and lips clash, and Buckyâs breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. Thereâs a pull that you canât ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, âBuââ
Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Buckyâs hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. âOh, fuckââ he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. âIâm so sorry, so sorry, Bubsâ Iââ
Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. âHush, you. Itâs alright. I loved it,â you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you â you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. âLet it go, itâs okay.â
Buckyâs breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. Youâll be damned if you donât get more from him, you decide.
âFuck,â he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. âFuck, yes.âÂ
You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it â predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin.Â
The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath â a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet.Â
The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt â a crime, you think, that it wasnât inside you.
Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more. Â
âBucky,â you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. âFuckâ Sâgood.â
âButtercup, baby,â Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. âFuckinâ feel good, please,â he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he canât help himself anymore. âNeed more, please.â
Youâre all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. âOkay,â you soothe, pecking him on the nose. âIâll give you more, sweetheart.â
The bed creaks as you shuffle up Buckyâs lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. âDonât keep quiet on me,â you warn.Â
âWhaâ Fuck!â
You pant as you grind down on Buckyâs cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds â oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it.Â
The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and itâs all you can do to keep going.
Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release.Â
You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone â the loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle.Â
Of course, you werenât going to let it go â you want him to crack.
Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. âBabyâ Baby, please, fuck,â he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck.Â
You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adamâs apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently.Â
âShit, shit,â Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. âNoâ No, please, I caâ Canât,â he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. âPlease, I donât want toâ To, shitââ
Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when heâs this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him.Â
You canât have that, though.Â
Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. âCanât what, sweetheart?â you ask. âYou canât cum?â
Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; heâs so desperate to not cum, to let go.Â
Itâs plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in.Â
You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. âWhy not?â you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. âDoesnât my pussy feel good, baby?âÂ
Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You donât think he realises how he rambles to himself, âFuck, yes! It doesâfuck, it does baby.âÂ
âThink for me, sweetheart,â you say, leaning close to his face. âJust think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.â The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it. Â
You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. âJust think, Bucky,â you repeat, âHow wet and tight Iâd be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.âÂ
The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. âOh, sweetheart,â you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, âDoesnât that sound good, baby?â
Something snaps within him.Â
The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure.Â
To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin âAre you okay?â you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. âBucky, baby?â
âMhm,â Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. âPleasepleaseplease.â
A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him â Buckyâs too far gone to come back down now, and he wonât be able to stop.Â
âGo on,â you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. âThatâs it,â you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: âCum for me then, pretty boy.â
âOh, oh, fuckâ Babyââ Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. âShit!âÂ
âThatâs it, thatâs it, sweetheart,â you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. Thereâs a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed.Â
âFuckââ Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, âBucky!â
The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.
âHoly shit,â you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky â only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss.Â
âYouâre so beautiful, baby,â he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. âSo fuckinâ beautiful.â
You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck â the soft locks damp with sweat.Â
The two of you stare into one anotherâs eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, âWell, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.â
Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness.Â
After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. âBucky? Whatâs the matter?â
âIâ I donât, I didnât mean toââ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused â there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material.Â
Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Buckyâs face. Itâs blotchy and red from embarrassment. âBucky?â
âIâ Oh, goddamnit,â he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.
The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. âBucky, sweetheart,â you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. âListen to me, okay?â
Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. âThere is no need to feel ashamed.â
âButââ Bucky tries.Â
âNo, listen to me,â you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, âThere's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.â
His pure, innocent gaze doesnât fail to make you swoon even more over him. âIt doesnât?â
âOf course not, you know why?â Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, âBecause I love you making a mess for me, baby.â
The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces.Â
It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, âBye! Have fun, kids!â
You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room â an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands.Â
And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. âDamn,â you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Buckyâs face and the mess of his hair.Â
You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.
âNo,â Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. âDunâ get up.âÂ
You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck â the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. âI have to,â you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, onlyâÂ
âNuh-uh. Where yâthink you're goinâ, Buttercup?â The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. âCanât leave me.â And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala.Â
âBucky, you big goof.â You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. âCome on,â you say, wriggling â itâs met with no success of him releasing you. âGet off of me so I can answer the door.â
But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily â a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. âNo. Tell âem to fuck off.â
âFine.â Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find heâs staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. âHow about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?âÂ
That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. âI wanâ unlimited kisses, too,â he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes.Â
You cannot help but chuckle. âDeal, handsome.â
Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking â the treat now successfully taken away.Â
With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, âBeinâ left alone ainât right,â and, âTell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.â
The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Buckyâs body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Buckyâs shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky.Â
âHurry back, Buttercup,â he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. âPleaseâdonâ leave me too long.â
âDrama queen,â you whisper, quiet enough he wouldnât hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause â if itâs your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, âIâm coming, Iâm coming. Donât bust the hinges.â
You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e â the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, âWhat are youââ
The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short â not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall. âFucking door dashers,â you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. âWhatâ?â
A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright â much like Buckyâs. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive.Â
âOkay,â you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. âWait.âÂ
That meant only one person was responsible.Â
Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too. Â
Flower, Iâm sorry for bailing on our movie night.Â
I know youâre pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake.Â
Love ya squirt,Â
Your big bro.
âStevie,â you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. âYou sneaky bastard.â There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.
P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? Iâm sure weâll have guests joining us xÂ
Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. âWhat am I going to do with you,â you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again.Â
âWhaâs happeninâ?â a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. âBack to bed, câmon.â
Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. âYou made me a promise,â he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain.Â
5K notes
¡
View notes
Are You Bored Yet?
Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader
Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.
Word count: 8k
Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:
a/n:âââ I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months đ
If you enjoy it please please let me know â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
Masterlist
~~
12:59 pm.
The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasnât late. Yet. You werenât going to hold onto that hope, however.
Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case.Â
Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. Andâthe one thing you could actually doâhe wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties.Â
Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be.Â
With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Buckyâs life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall.Â
Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didnât hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job.Â
But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day.Â
One minute.Â
Two minutes.Â
The library really needed new ceiling tiles.Â
1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natashaâs way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done.Â
You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.
With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes.Â
âYou going somewhere?â he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder.Â
Your jaw ticked. âHome.âÂ
His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon.Â
âBut I still got aboutââ he checked his watch ââthirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.âÂ
âAnd I still gotââ you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist ââno patience for this today. Youâre over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and Iâll tell you everything youâll inevitably forget about amino acids then.âÂ
He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. âSit. Iâll buy you a coffee and I promise I wonât be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.âÂ
âWere you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?âÂ
âItâs a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.âÂ
âYou came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,â you deadpanned.
Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. âOat milk, right? A double?âÂ
You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned.Â
The last time he had shown up in his pajamasâlateâyouâd had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window.Â
He was lucky you accepted bribes.Â
~~
âPlease,â the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. âJust ask her, thatâs all I want. You can even come too.âÂ
âOh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?âÂ
It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. Youâd gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend.Â
âOkay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the listâbut this one will be even better if youâd just do this one thing for me.âÂ
You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. âAnd what would make this one soâwait, what list?âÂ
He waved you off. âThe one at the door. Did it like⌠the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?âÂ
You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time.Â
Not that that sounded the least bit grand.Â
Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasnât talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense.Â
You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. âI donât even talk to her outside of chem. Donât you think itâd be a little weird to invite her to a party that Iâm not even going to?âÂ
âSo come,â he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities.Â
âYeah,â you scoffed. âSure, Iâll come to your party, Barnes.âÂ
âGreat,â he grinned. âVisionâs gonna be so hyped.âÂ
You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldnât notice that you didnât show up on Friday, and likely wouldnât even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote.Â
âYou have a toga, right?â he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text.Â
âIsnât it just a sheet all twisted up?â you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over.Â
Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. âDepends on your motives for the night.âÂ
âAnd my motives wouldnât be to⌠wear a toga?âÂ
He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his rightâyour chair. âOther motives. Like if youâre trying to get someoneâs attention.âÂ
You blinked at the warmth along your back. âOh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?â
âSomething like that.âÂ
He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible.Â
Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you.Â
You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attentionâin any capacityâfelt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice.Â
The duality of man.Â
It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You werenât in a sorority or interested to his parentâs money, and, worst of all, you didnât know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldnât even speak to him anymore.
âIâll text you more info about everything,â Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. âYou can come early and Iâll help you with that pillowcase.âÂ
You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. âUh, maybe.âÂ
âNo, seriously, itâd be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time itâll be too crazy for me to show you around.âÂ
âYou donât have to show me around, Bucky. Iâve been to a house party before.âÂ
âY/n, are you not coming to this thing?â Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way.Â
âDude!â you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. âWhy does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.âÂ
He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. âYou just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said youâd come and now you gotta.âÂ
You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips.Â
âYou ever hear of sarcasm?â you whispered with a half-hearted bite.Â
âUnfortunately, thatâs about all I hear outta you,â he smirked back.Â
You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. âThen you should have known I wasnât going to come. No matter what âlistâ you put me on.âÂ
âWhat else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?âÂ
Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didnât will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier.Â
This was humiliation, surelyâthe kind that only came from feeling small.Â
âYou donât have to be a dick,â you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. âJust because I donât want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I donât spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.âÂ
Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. âWhoa, I didnât meanâhey, stop a sec, I didnât mean it like that.âÂ
âWhatever, Bucky,â you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion youâd fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasnât interested in you and you werenât interested in him. But embarrassment wasnât a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks.Â
Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. âWe still have time in our session,â he defended, arm jutting out to the table. âCâmon, I didnât mean you donât have friends.âÂ
Your glare sharpened. âGreat, another insinuation.âÂ
Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more.Â
âLook, it doesnât even matter, okay?â you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you werenât in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar. Â
You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. âIt doesnât matter, I overreacted.âÂ
He clicked his tongue. âIâm still apologizing. I didnât mean any of that stuff you were talking about.âÂ
Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didnât mean to say it out loud.Â
âItâs fine,â you rushed. âI have to go, anyway. Office hours.âÂ
âOkay,â he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. âYouâll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda canât?âÂ
âYou have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?â you pressed.
Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. âAnd sheâs back.âÂ
You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had.Â
~~
Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what youâd gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend.Â
Of course, you didnât. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. Youâd been to a party before, sure, but you didnât exactly frequent those kinds of scenes.Â
Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You werenât just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldnât remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasnât the worst thing.Â
Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldnât wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadnât taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man youâd never met.Â
Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud alreadyâthe type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan.Â
âOkay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?â Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house.Â
âExactly,â you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Buckyâs âlistâ was a page on some guyâs notes app. How luxurious. âLetâs drink.âÂ
The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadnât seen Bucky, but you figured he wasnât looking for you too hard since you hadnât responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didnât know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore.Â
You: Your house is soooo dirty
Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didnât answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission.Â
After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you werenât lying in your textâit was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went.Â
The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face.Â
âYou ever answer this thing?â an accusing voice called out. âOr do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?âÂ
The look on Buckyâs face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.
âAlright, alright.â Buckyâs words rumbled against your face. âI get it, this is hilarious.âÂ
âYour⌠your face,â you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. âIt was allââ you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. ââYou donât ever answer your phone. Youâre so boring, y/n, answer your phone.âÂ
âI didnât call you boring. Heyâhey,â Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. âJesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?âÂ
You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection.Â
âWhyâre you being so uptight?â you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. âI thought you were all like, âIâm Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.ââ
Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat.Â
âYouâre even more mean when you're drunk,â you heard Bucky mumble. You couldnât quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. âAnd I donât talk like that.âÂ
You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. âYou soooo talk like that.âÂ
Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldnât find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied.Â
He asked again how much youâd had to drink.Â
You answered that you didnât knowâthat it didnât matter because he wasnât your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didnât say anything for the next few moments.Â
And then, âThought you werenât gonna come tonight.âÂ
You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. âOf course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.âÂ
His expression twisted into something you couldnât recognize. âGod, youâre so drunk.âÂ
âMânot even that drunk!âÂ
âYouâre willingly in my room right now. Youâre plastered.âÂ
âMaybe I want to be in your room.âÂ
âWe both know thatâs not true.âÂ
You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldnât have to see the pretty flush of Buckyâs face. âYou think you know everything, donât you? Donât know much about me though. Or biology.âÂ
Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. âAnd what do I not know about you?âÂ
âSo much.âÂ
âHow much?âÂ
You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Buckyâs. His eyes didnât waver from yours as you swayed.Â
âYou donât know that Iâm the most interesting person on Earth,â you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat.Â
âThat right?â Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum.Â
âYup, Iâm always really busy and even though you think Iâm some boring biology tutor Iâm actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.âÂ
His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. âIâve never said you were boring. And I donât think youâve ever been to a rave.âÂ
You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. âSee! Iâm telling you I do all this cool stuff and Iâm so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still donât believe me.âÂ
You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Buckyâs room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.
Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like heâd been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.
âWhat?â you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing.Â
âYouâre so fucking pretty.âÂ
He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement.Â
âYeah,â you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. âSure, Bucky. How much did you have to drinkââÂ
âIâm not lying. Iâve thought about you in my room for weeks and now youâre here and youâre so pretty. Even when youâre yelling at me.âÂ
âYouâve⌠thought about me in your room?âÂ
Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. âI think about you everywhere.âÂ
This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your headâNatashaâs voice, it sounded likeâwas screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other peopleâs youâd never met.Â
Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating.Â
But then Buckyâs hand was warming your thigh. Youâd felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking.Â
âAre you going to kiss me?âÂ
Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if heâs going to kiss them?Â
âWould you let me?â he responds.Â
âYes.âÂ
He didnât waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasnât some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 oâclock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you.Â
But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss youâd ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didnât feel small anymore.Â
A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence youâd created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You werenât sure what you wantedâif you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the doorâbut when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted.Â
A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didnât work.Â
âUm,â Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.
Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.
You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered.Â
You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. ��That was loud.âÂ
Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. âProbably just someone trying to find the bathroom,â he clarified.
You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. âIâm bored now.â You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. âThanks for the water,â you all but gritted out.Â
You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up.Â
He didnât, and you couldnât understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldnât understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating.Â
You couldnât understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.
That you should be different, somehow.
~~
Bucky: Youâre here???
Bucky: Where are you?
Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone
Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you werenât comingÂ
You stared at the text messages you hadnât read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Buckyâs room felt like an even bigger one.Â
Youâd gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, youâd landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldnât remember a thing. He obviously wouldnât care and would probably appreciate it.Â
Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parentâs house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly werenât going to text her about it.Â
When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing.Â
Unfortunately, you didnât get past the first one.Â
From: University Peer Assistance ProgramÂ
Dear Y/n Y/l/n,Â
This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours.Â
Thank you,Â
University Peer AssistanceÂ
You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.
This was what you wanted, wasnât it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didnât even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didnât ask to be on.Â
But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you.Â
You knew you werenât his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible?Â
Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls.Â
Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you?Â
The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasnât on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didnât want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine.Â
His mistake.Â
That word felt wrong.Â
You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs.Â
Ice cream would fix this.Â
The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasnât university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off.Â
Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep openâthose were the only things rattling in your head.Â
You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache youâd been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they werenât even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register.Â
âNice outfit.âÂ
Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good.Â
âThanks,â you quietly replied.Â
He waited until you turned back around to continue. âYou go to school over here?âÂ
You kept your gaze forward. âUm, yeah.âÂ
âNice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.âÂ
âCool,â you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked.Â
You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paidâa few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky handsâyou booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didnât care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort.Â
The manâs voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. âWait! Wait, Iâm Beck. I own a business nearby.âÂ
You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist.Â
âOh, nice,â you responded, rocking back on your heels.Â
âWe should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?â He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip.Â
âUm, I donât know. Iâm pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, Iâm not really in the business field.âÂ
âNot for business then,â he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight.Â
Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine.Â
You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. âCâmon, Iâm not asking you to marry me or anything.âÂ
Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again.Â
âSure, okay.â But he didnât let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist.Â
âWhat about now?â he posed. âYou donât look too busy. I can make you something at my place.âÂ
He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work.Â
âMy roommate's waiting for me,â you lied. âCould you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,â you lied again.Â
He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking.Â
âPlease let go of me.âÂ
The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it.Â
He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes.Â
âYou know this guy?â he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.
âNo,â you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled.Â
Bucky didnât look confused anymore. He looked pissed. âWanna take your fucking hands off her?â
Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. âWhoa, man, no need for the theatrics. Iâm guessing youâre here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.âÂ
When Buckyâs silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, âWe were just planning a night at my place, right?âÂ
His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting.Â
âYeah, I think weâre done here,â Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither.Â
The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldnât you stop shaking?Â
A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor.Â
âLook at me, y/n.âÂ
You couldnât. You couldnât do anything.Â
âSweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.â Buckyâs voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. âThere she is,â he hummed.Â
He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too.Â
âYou okay?â he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. âHe hurt you?âÂ
You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine.Â
Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didnât know it was his.
He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form.Â
âThank you,â you said. âHe wouldnât leave me alone. I didnât bring my phone with me. I shouldâve.âÂ
âOf course.âÂ
There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you werenât sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high.Â
You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Buckyâs lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didnât want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him.Â
âI can⌠I can walk home now. The guy left. Iâm just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.âÂ
He looked at you with a pinched expression. âIâm not letting you walk home after that. You kiddinâ me?âÂ
âIâll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.âÂ
âYou get harassed all the time too?âÂ
âNoâŚâÂ
âExactly. So youâre not walking home.âÂ
âBuckyââÂ
âLook Iâm not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you donât have to turn down a ride because of that.âÂ
Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go.Â
âIâm not following,â you finally relented.Â
A loud sigh released from his nose. âYou donât have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then Iâll leave you alone.âÂ
âWorry aboutâyouâre the one trying to avoid me,â you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. âYou tutor-dumped me.â
âTutor-dumped? How do youâŚâ he trailed off.Â
âI get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.âÂ
He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks.Â
âWell, youâyouâlook, I know you donât like me, y/n. Youâve made that clear,â he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. âBut I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And Iâve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less.Â
âIf I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,â he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. âI didnât mean any of that shit you thought I did. Youâre not boring. And I didnât mean to kiss you, but you lookedâwell, I already told you.âÂ
âSo you donât want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?â You spoke slowly, each word careful.Â
âNo,â he sighed, frustrated. âI canât be around you because I kissed you and you didnât care. Because Iâll want to kiss you all the time and you didnât even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but Iâve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. Itâs nothing against your⌠tutoring skills. If thatâs what youâre worried aboutâÂ
âBut you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.âÂ
âYou ever hear of lying?â
âWhy would youââÂ
âYou really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?âÂ
Youâd read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that heâs been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you werenât small or insignificant or boring.Â
It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. Youâd probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway.Â
âI wanted you to kiss me.â Buckyâs head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, âI want you to kiss me all the time.âÂ
He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didnât move, and you needed to rectify that.Â
âYouâre infuriating,â you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. âYouâre like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You donât care about classes. Youâre always late. You talk too loud in the library.âÂ
You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldnât make eye contact with anything but the ground.Â
âBut then you know my coffee order when Iâve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure Iâm not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel⌠you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because youâre everything Iâm not, but I really think itâs because youâre everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I donât want to.
âI wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.âÂ
âThen get over here. Iâm not kissing you over some bullshit center console.âÂ
You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasnât seamlessâthere was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the carâbut Buckyâs touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache.Â
His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.
âYouâre wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.âÂ
You laughed. âI get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and youâre usually. late.âÂ
âI got a secret,â he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. âIâm never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when youâre pissed at me.âÂ
âWell, Iâm about to be really cuteââ
He kissed you. Youâd have plenty of time to argue later.
5K notes
¡
View notes
Chapter Two
Ellia Bel Iblis
Some Senators, like Padme Amidala from Naboo, Mon Mothma from Chandrila or Bail Organa from Alderaan, were known for their courage and diplomacy, and their ability to remain calm under even the most intense scrutiny.
That would never be said about Ellia Bel Iblis from Corellia. Born in the Bottoms, Ellia had scratched and clawed her way to the top, through Corelliaâs incredibly corrupt political system as an aide until she was lucky enough to be adopted by Senator Bel Iblis. She would never be written in history as a calm woman who persevered. Ellia was scrappy, like the planet she represented, and there was nothing she would ever do to change that. She was known for loudly making her opinion known, for standing up for what she believed in, and for actually working to make her system a better place, unlike many of her Senate counterparts. She was in Corellia more than she was in Coruscant most of the time, trying to speak with as many constituents as possible to see how she could help.
Ellia stormed down the halls of the Senate-owned building toward her chambers, her fists clenched angrily. Senators and aides alike nearly dove out of her way, as Ellia was not known for slowing down when she was in a mood like this.
How dare he take the Chancellors side? That Jedi didnât even know her that well. He had no idea how hard she worked to get where she was. And then to side with the Chancellorâwhich, by the way, it was Coruscantâs worst kept secret that she absolutely loathed himâwithout even asking her opinion⌠She shook her head angrily again, frowning to herself as she tried to calm down.
Men were all the sameâthey all thought they knew betterâŚand she truly was disappointed in how this one had turned out. She had hoped he might be a bit different. It didnât matter how pretty Kenobi was now, or how blue his eyes were⌠or how genuinely kind his smile seemedâŚwoah hold on. She shook her head quickly, stopping at her door. There was no way that she would be thinking this way about a Jedi, no less the Jedi she had spent years getting over.
She stepped through the doors to her private chambers, grumbling angrily as she walked through her office, moving to her room. She pulled the dress off, tossing it onto the chair nearest to her bed, and grabbed her leggings and a soft tunic, opting to go barefoot instead of pulling on her normal boots. Yawning, she pulled her hair up in a ribbon, making sure it wouldnât fall in her face. She grabbed her holopad and walked to her balcony, falling down onto her couch dramatically. She heard squeaking behind her, the tell tale sign of her protocol droid IG-T4.
âWhy must you treat such beautiful clothes this way, my lady,â the droid whined, and Ellia grinned a bit, leaning her head back so she could see the droid.
âYou know these clothes are wasted on me, IG,â she called. âIf I could dress in street clothes to go to Senate meetings, I would.â
âDon't remind me,â IG grumbled, hanging up the dress and straightening up her clothes. Ellia chuckled to herself and settled back on the couch, watching the traffic fly by her patio. IG waddled out to the living room. âMay I get you anything?â The droid asked.
âA glass of whisky, please IG,â she sighed, placing the holo on her table and running her hands through her hair. The droid stood there for a moment.
âI was expecting you to say tea, or biscuits, or perhaps dinner before we break open the Corellian alcohol on a weekday,â it replied. Ellia slowly looked up and glared at the droid, who turned on its heel as quickly as it could. âWhisky it is,â it mumbled and Ellia wondered to herself how it was possible that droids could somehow be so useful and also so cheeky at the same time. She looked back at the holopad, reading through the most recent edit to the bill, rubbing her temples. One would think that trying to impose limits on how much money bankers could extort via interest rates from working class families would be an easy enough bill to pass. Apparently not.
She heard the door chime, and IG set her whisky on the table, wobbling to the door to check who it was. âMy lady, have you done something!â It nearly gasped, peeking through the peephole. âThere is a Jedi here!â
âWhy is your first thought that Iâve done something, IGâŚHave you no faith in me?â Ellia asked, grabbing her glass as she pushed herself up walking toward the door.
âSenator, all due respect, I know you very well,â IG responded, moving out of her way. Ellia shrugged a bit and pressed the door key, and it opened with a quiet swoosh. The Jedi from beforeâObi-Wan Kenobiâstood there, his hands hidden in his cloak, a small pack on his shoulder. He stood quite a bit taller than her than he did years ago, with shoulder length auburn hair, a short ginger scruff on his chin and blue eyes that somehow seemed wise beyond his years. He met her gaze and bowed slightly.
âRepresentative Bel Iblis,â he said, his clipped accent giving enough away to show he had been raised here on Coruscant, close to the surface.
âJust call me Ellia, Kenobi,â She stated, watching him. âThe Chancellor did us the honor of reintroducing us, but Iâm not going to make you use formalities.â
âAh. Yes. Well⌠there was a lot going on in that meeting,â Kenobi admitted. âI wanted to make sure I was polite and memorable.â
âHow could I forget the Jedi that will be a thorn in my side for the foreseeable just as he was all those years ago?â Ellia took a sip of her whiskey, smirking at the slight pink on Kenobiâs cheeks. âWell, come in, make yourself comfortable.â She sighed, stepping back and walking to the living room.
âCan I get you anything, Master Jedi?â IG asked politely. âApparently we are skipping dinner and going straight to the alcohol today, but I can get you something if youâd prefer a non liquid diet.â
âIG!â Ellia gasped, whirling to glare at her protocol droid. The Jedi didnât bat an eye, instead smiling at the protocol droid.
âIf you have some water, Iâll take that for now. Thank you.â
âMm,â IG hummed as it waddled off. âWater. A concept.â
âIG, I will melt you down and sell you for parts,â Ellia called, her face burning.
âWell you can't melt me down and sell me for parts,â IG responded. âIt would need to be one or the other.â It disappeared into the kitchen. Ellia stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath, then she turned to the Jedi.
âApologies. I didnât take him for his oil bath last week and Iâve been paying for it with attitude ever since.â She motioned to the couch across from her, and the Jedi settled down, smiling a little.
âNot to worry. Iâve dealt with my fair share of cheeky droids,â he chuckled softly. âI just wanted to come and check in to see what you need; perhaps try to break the ice and share a little moreââ
âThere is no need,â Ellia responded. âI know all I care to know about you.â The Jedi blinked as IG came back into the room with a glass of water and a plate of different cheese and biscuits. The droid set the plate down and then refilled her whiskey, walking off.
âHave I done something to offend you?â Kenobi asked, watching her. âOr is there something from when we last met?â
âYou have not recently done anything, no. I just do not like Jedi being involved in my business when it is something I can clearly handle,â Ellia stated, frowning.
âI am only here to provide protectionââ
âI grew up on Corellia. I should hope I would be able to take care of myself.â She cut him off. He nodded a bit.
âThe chancellor seems worriedââ
âThe Chancellor can put his opinions up his wagyxâI am a grown woman capable of taking care of myself.â
âYes but the Senatorââ
âThe Senator, as much as I love him, is a worrier about me specifically. I assure you, I am fine.â
âI am only hereââ
âYou are here to get in my way and I have no intentions of allowing the Chancellor toââ
âDo you have any intentions of letting me finish my sentence, my lady?â The Jedi asked, and Ellia leaned back on her couch, gritting her teeth together tightly, her hands balling up into fists gripping onto the fabric of her tunic. âI only mean to say that I will trust your judgment and only go where you tell me I should. I understand that sometimes, the Chancellor has⌠opinions⌠that might not fit in with his representativesâ wants or needs. Perhaps we can come up with some sort of compromise, where I still am present for important events, but otherwise I stay out of your way? For example, tonight I plan to stay and make sure nothing happens, but I have no intention of being in your way in any sense of the word.â
Ellia stared at him for a minute. âThe Negotiator has made an appearance,â she chuckled and finished her whiskey. The Jedi nodded, a smile playing on his lips.
âThat is what Jedi do, is it not?â He asked.
âIt should not be,â Ellia stated, pushing herself up and walking over to her small bar, pouring herself some more whiskey, pouring a second glass and carrying it back over. She slid the second glass over to him, and he nodded in thanks as he picked it up and took a small sip. She hid her smirk behind her glass as he coughed a bit after sipping. âJedi are peacekeepers, and that is where their role should end.â
âJedi are servants of the Republic.â Kenobi said. âWe fight for peace when necessary.â
âAh yes,â Ellia scoffed, sipping her whiskey slowly. âFighting for peace. That makes sense to me.â
âYou still seem to have a veryâŚnegative view of Jedi.â Kenobi said, watching her. âMay I ask why?â
âBecause the Jedi overstep,â She said leaning forward. âYou think that youâre Senators and lawmakers, when in reality, you believe your Code puts you above the law. You do what the Code demands, rather than what your Republic requests.â
âThe Jedi are not above the lawââ
âThen why is it that when a Jedi does something wrong, he is not held before the Senate for trial? Why do you have a Council that makes decisions for your whole order, that protects Jedi who have overstepped? Why are you traveling with Bail Organa and helping him write policies for clans that you have no involvement in, when it should be Bailâs job to figure out treaties?â She cut him off. He took a deep breath and she delighted in the fact that she might be making him slightly upset. She had always had the ability to push Obi-Wanâs buttons. He stayed quiet for a moment.
âI understand you might not agree with our tactics.â He said softly. âBut it is meant with the best intentions. And I don't think it's fair to treat me with such animosity when I am only trying to help.â Ellia felt her face flush with shame, knowing he was right. She finished her glass and stood, taking a breath.
âI didn't mean to take my opinions out on you,â She said, clearing her throat. He nodded, smiling a little.
âItâs no trouble,â he said. âI appreciate when someone feels strongly about their beliefs, even if itâs not something I believe in personally.â There was a small silence for a moment as Ellia sipped her drink and Kenobi looked out at the traffic passing her balcony. âHow have you been?â He asked softly. âItâs been a while since weâve last seen each other.â
âOther than the death threats, Iâve been just peachy,â she snorted and Kenobi laughed a bit. âSeriously though, Iâm much better than I was.â She said softly. âIâm working a lot more and Iâm a lotâŚIâm just happier than I used to be.â
âIâm glad to hear it.â There was another silence, this one a bit more comfortable. âAnyone special in your life?â He asked and her head snapped up as she just stared at him.
âNot since you,â she said quietly and met his eyes, refusing to be the one to look away. A hint of pink touched his cheeks and she tried not to notice how pretty he looked with a blush on his pale skin. âOn that note, I think itâs time for me to retire to bed, Master Kenobi.â She said softly, and he nodded and stood up, looking away quickly.
âWould you like for me to stay on watch, my lady?â He asked.
âIf it would give you a sense of accomplishment, then yes. Although I will have you know that my security team is very thorough,â she said, setting her glass on the bar and heading to the master bedroom. âIf you would rather enjoy a warm bed for the night, or after your watch, there is a guest bedroom through that door.â She motioned to a small door off to the right of the balcony. He nodded, bowing a bit.
âThank you, Representative,â he said softly. âHave a good night's rest.â
âIf youâre going to be sticking around, get used to calling me Ellia,â she called over her shoulder, pressing the keypad for her bedroom.
âAlrightâŚgood night, Ellia,â he responded gently. âAnd you don't need to call me by my last nameâŚyou can just call me Obi-Wan. We were friends once, and I would like for us toâŚperhaps get to that level again.â She turned and met his gaze, tilting her head slightly.
âGood night, Kenobi,â she said quietly and stepped into her room, the door sliding shut behind her.
2 notes
¡
View notes
đđ§ đđ§đ đđĽ'đŹ đđ¨đ§đđđŹđŹđ˘đ¨đ§ | đ.đ.đ
Pairing //Â Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count //Â 1.2k
Event // @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer  | Week 7 - âWho's this?â
Warnings //Â Swearing, pet names, fluff, smut (unprotected piv, hair pulling, praise + extreme degradation + daddy + breeding kink)
Authorâs Note //Â I hope I did my first breeding kink fic... justice. đ
Brotherhood & Bullets Masterlist  | Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist
Being the Angel on Buckyâs shoulder meant you were the voice of calm, of reason â it did not mean the most sinful chants would fall from your lips and render both of you speechless. Until the day that it did.
The first time was an accident.Â
You hadn't meant to let it slip while Bucky fucked you so deep you could barely see straight, let alone think â so when it happened, both of you froze.Â
Bucky was mid thrust â his hips came to a complete stop, seated to the hilt in your cunt, and you whined quietly; both in embarrassment and need.Â
"What was that, sweetheart?" he asked, voice on the cusp of disbelief.
You paled and looked over your shoulder, gasping as Bucky settled his weight over your back, his hips tilting down only slightly so his cockhead would brush against that spot. "Nothing, I-I... please just fuck me, Bucky, pleaseâ"
"Oh, no, baby," Bucky purred, an arrogant smirk plastered on his bitten-red lips. "You need to repeat yourself for me, go on."
âI- Fuck,â you moaned, the shallow thrust of his hips distracting you. âPlease, just keep going.â
âNo,â Bucky growled, stopping his hips and breathing heavily in your ear. âYou tell me what you just let slip, sweetheartâsay it loud and clear for me.â
Stalling for a second, you braced â Bucky would hold back and drive you to the edge over and over if you didnât do as you were told, you knew that for a fact. Was keeping it hidden worth it? You considered it, biting your lip and wiggling your hips for all your worth, which surprisingly, Bucky allowed.Â
ââM waitinâ, baby girl, câmon. Tell me,â he urged.Â
âFuck me, daddy,â you whispered, the fluttering butterflies cresting into a frenzy now the words were out in the open. âPlease, please fuck me, daddy, need it,â you begged, a little louder.
Bucky hummed, nodding once. âGood girl, but that wasnât what daddy heard, sweetheart. Try again.â
Fuck.Â
âBut-â
Bucky rumbled, a low laugh in his throat that sounded dangerous. âNo buts, babyâcâmon. Say it aloud for me, say it for daddy, hmm?â
âOh, godâokay, okay,â you rushed, mewling at the lack of movement. âPlease fuck me, daddy!â A sharp thrust was your reward, and you smiled, biting your lip. âFeels sâgood, daddy.â
âI know it does, baby, but youâre not doinâ as youâre told,â Bucky scolded, stopping his hips again.Â
You whined loudly and felt your restraint slip â you needed him to move, and dammit all, why not repeat it?
âFuck me, daddy,â you moaned, wriggling your hips as his heavy breath fanned over your shoulder. âWant daddy to fuck and breed me, please!â
The air left Buckyâs lung in a heavy exhale, like he had been punched in the guts. âGod fuckinâ damn, doll,â he moaned, âhearing those words from those pretty lips? You better fuckinâ hold on.â
It was the only warning you received, and you braced.Â
The room became filled with the sounds of slapping skin and Buckyâs grunts and moans while he fucked you into the mattress, all gentleness and hesitance vanishing, along with his self restraint. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, each thrust forward was filling you to the point it hurt â the pain was exquisite, and you wanted more.Â
âDaddy! Please, moreâneed more!â you cried, gripping the sheets desperately. Bucky groaned and wound his fingers into your hair, fisting it and pulling your head back sharply. âAh!â
âYou want more, you fuckinâ slut?â Bucky growled, still thrusting in and out at a fevered pace. âYou wanna please your daddy so he fucks you and breeds you, huh?âÂ
âYesyesyes! Oh, god,â you moaned, mouth falling slack. âMore! Need your cum, daddy, please!â
âOh, youâll fuckinâ get it, you fuckinâ bitch,â Bucky snapped, changing his grip so your head was forced down onto the mattress. âYou will fuckinâ take it while daddy breeds you like the good bitch you are, wonât you?â
âYes, daddy!â you wailed, thrashing under his weight while he fucked you. âPlease, feels-â
âItâll feel much fuckinâ better after I cum, angel,â Bucky said lowly, ââm gonna cum in this perfect fuckinâ pussy and make a mess, only to fuck it back into youâunderstood?â
Under the weight of his hand, you nodded as best you could, unable to form words through the assault of pleasure burning through every last nerve â that coil set to spring at any second.
âKnow youâre close, baby girl,â Bucky grunted, slamming his hips forward and grinding into your heat. âYouâre gonna cum for me, and then daddy will fill you upâjust what a good bitch is for, ainât that right?â
The words tore through you, and you moaned loudly. âYeah, please, wanna cum.â
âYou can, angel, let it out,â Bucky soothed, still grinding his hips down into your ass. âGimme it all, soak daddyâs dickâshow me how good it feels to be fucked, baby.â
A low whine built to a shout as your climax gripped you like a vice, your entire body pulling taut and rigid as it flooded you. âDaddy! Daddy, please!â
âThaâs a girl, good girlâlet it go, lemme feel it,â Bucky praised, continuing to thrust shallowly. âDoinâ so good for daddy, cumming like that, câmon, every last drop for me.â
The waves ebbed and flowed until you lay limp on the sheets, Buckyâs soothing rumbled words covering you like a blanket as you came down from the high. âDaddy,â you breathed, groping for his hand, and he offered it with a wide smile.Â
âSuch a good slut, takinâ it like thatânow itâs daddyâs turn,â he said, and you giggled.Â
Bucky wasnât gentle. Each thrust drove you up the sheets and punched a moan from your lungs with the force. âSâgood, daddy! Wanâ you to cum in me, please,â you begged, shuddering as he nailed your g-spot with reverence and a sniperâs precision.Â
âI fuckinâ will, baby girl, angelâfuck you feel so good around me,â Bucky groaned, his forehead resting on your shoulder and his hair tickled your neck. âSweetheart, please, I need tâa cum, please,â he begged, driving his hips desperately in and out.Â
âDaddydaddy, yes, give it to me,â you called, nodding and canting your ass up into the air to better meet his thrusts. âBreed me, daddy, need it!â
âFuck, fuck, thank you, baby girl,â Bucky moaned, his hips faltering. ââM gonna fuckinâ fill you up, make you pregnant and oh fuckinâ hell-â A loud moan cut him off and a warmth bloomed in your cunt. âTake itâtake it, be a good slut,â Bucky growled, and you whined as a second climax pulled you under. âGood fuckinâ girl,â he praised, thrusting slowly. âFuckinâ milkinâ daddyâs cock, such a good slut.â
You laid there, still pinned under his weight, with the biggest grin splitting your cheeks. âThat was so fucking good, babe,â you breathed.
Bucky laughed, his hips still moving slowly. âTell me âbout it, where the fuck was that hidinâ, huh? Almost gave me a heart attack.â
âI⌠Um, well-â you hesitated, and decided to plunge on anyway. âI read books, and- And thereâs, well-â
âYou read porn, thaâs what youâre sayinâ?â Bucky supplied, grinning down at you. You nodded. âWell, alright then,â he sighed, âI need to borrow those books, sweetheart.â
âWhatâwhy?â you floundered, turning around as far as you could to stare at his face. âBucky, I donât-â
âBecause âm gonna read âem,â Bucky huffed, resting his weight on his arms, caging you on the mattress. âAnd then I will make sure you get to experience every one of âem.â
yes, this is coming back.
Please support content creators and reblog our works! â¤
Graphics & Header made by yours truly.
Masterlist | Library | AO3 | Wattpad
766 notes
¡
View notes
Sahsahlah, or âThe Land of Wise Foolsâ
Chapter 1
Obi-Wan Kenobi
Obi-Wan stepped off the ship, squinting in the bright Coruscant sun. The sixteen hour flight from Alderaan in the dark spaceship that he and Bail Organa had traveled in had caused his eyes to be a little sensitive to the light, but as usual, it didnât take him long to adjust. He looked around, pulling his brown robe around him as he walked to the edge of the landing platform, looking over the city he had spent so much of his life in. It was a bit surreal to be coming back now, as both an adult and as a Knight, although somehow it did feel like home.
âObi-Wan,â Bail called from the elevator at the side of the landing platform. âWill you be joining us?â Obi-Wan, torn from his thoughts, turned and smiled at his friend.
âIn a moment,â Obi-Wan called. âIâll meet you up there.â Bail nodded and turned, closing the doors to the elevator. Obi-Wan admired Bail Organa, with his strong commitment to his people, and his rational mind. These past few months had been filled with days of peace talks, watched over by Obi-Wan of course, but Bail had obviously done the brunt of the work.
âObi-Wan!â He heard a childâs voice call his name and turned just in time to catch a scrambling Anakin Skywalker. The boy had grown at least two inches since he had last seen him, his legs and arms getting to the point where they were too long for his body. Even though he had grown, he still barely came up to Obi-Wanâs chest, his sun-kissed blonde hair turning a bit more brown in the light of the Coruscanti day. Obi-Wan hugged the smaller boy, chuckling as he ruffled his hair up fondly, setting him down on the ground.
âGood to see you, Anakin,â he said and the boy scowled up at him, running a hand through his hair to try and fix it. âYouâve grown,â he added, chuckling softly.
âItâll be my life day next week, and Iâll be twelveâ the boy said, finishing fixing his hair and beaming up at him. âMaster Qui-Gon says next year will be a really big birthday.â
âAh yes,â Obi-Wan nodded. âYour thirteenth birthday is an important one in the Order, and will require much preparation. Hopefully Master Qui-Gon will actually remember yours,â he chuckled teasingly as the older man approached.
âFunny, I seem to remember your gift saving your life,â Qui-Gon retorted gently, chuckling as he walked over. âWelcome back to Coruscant, Obi-Wan. Your old quarters are ready for you in the Temple if you should need them.â
âThank you, Master,â Obi-Wan grinned at him and they embraced for a moment. Obi-Wan pulled away. âDo we have any more information on our assignment? All I know is that it involves a Senatorâthe Chancellor sounded rather panicked when he holoed.â
âUnfortunately, Iâm not aware of his thoughts on thisâI believe Ani and I are to shadow you as you take the lead on this meeting, Negotiator,â Qui-Gon smiled teasingly at him. Obi-Wan felt a warmth come to his cheeks as Qui-Gon patted his back gently as the three of them headed towards the Chancellorâs quarters. Even though he was no longer a Padawan, it always felt good to know he had Qui-Gonâs respect, and that it was well earned. âAnakin is learning about the Senate and the history of the Republic currently in his classes,â the older Jedi added, âand Master Yoda thought that this would be a good learning experience for the young one.â
âMaster Qui-Gon says youâre really good with politics,â Anakin chimed in, scrambling to keep up with the older menâs longer strides. âHow come? They seem so boring. I keep falling asleep in class when weâre talking about it.â He grimaced and rubbed his knuckles gently. âThen Master Yoda makes me regret it and I have to write so many papersâŚâ
âItâs just something that is interesting to me,â Obi-Wan said, slowing down so the boy could keep up. âIâve always been curious about people and communicating. Iâd rather hear people's thoughts and concerns rather than fight everything out. Most people just want to be heard.â
âBut fighting is more fun,â Anakin grinned mischievously up at him. âAnd some day, Iâll be better at duels than even you!â
âWeâll see,â Obi-Wan chuckled as they entered the elevator. âYou have to come up to at least my shoulder first,â he teased and ruffled the boyâs hair up again. Anakin whined a little and fixed his hair back again, grumbling under his breath. Qui-Gon chuckled softly and shook his head at the two of them.
Obi-Wan shifted as the elevator door shifted open and he and Qui-Gon stepped out, Anakin trailing behind. The chancellor looked up and the group of Senators around him turned, making way for the Jedi. Obi-Wan recognized Bail of course, Orn Free Taa from Ryloth, Garm Bel Iblis from Corellia, and Nee Alaver from Stewjon. Among them, however, was someone Obi-Wan did not recognize immediately. She sat nearest to the chancellor, lost in thought as she stared out the large window behind the chancellor's chair. Her shiny white-blonde hair lay in an intricate braid down her back. She wore a long blue dress with a lacy print that bared her collarbones, adorned with thin shoulder straps, and sleeves that did not cover her pale arms but still fell down to her fingertips. She blinked a few times as the Senators around her shifted, and she pushed herself up from the chair, straightening, making eye contact with Obi-Wan.
Ellia?
It felt like time stopped the second their eyes met; he could count every freckle on her face, see the stray eyelash that landed on the top of her cheek, notice the way her skin fit perfectly into the tight dress she wore. He could feel her heartbeat increase as they looked at each other, and he wondered if she felt the same way as she did at that moment. Too afraid his voice would betray him, he nodded at her and she did not respond, only staring at him, a frown on her plump lips as she tilted his head.
Skin pressed against skin as the loud bass moved the entire club, but neither of them could hear anything; they were only caught up in each other, their lips moving together like they had been kissing all their lives, fingers gripping cloaks and hair and skin and whatever they could to just hold each other as close as possibleâ
âChancellor,â Obi-Wan said respectfully, taking his attention away from the woman before his thoughts entirely betrayed him, and bowing to the man behind the desk. Qui-Gon and Anakin followed his lead behind him. Obi-Wan had never liked Chancellor Palpatine, even when he was a Senator.
âMaster Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi,â The Chancellor smiled, his thin lips somehow always making even the most sincere smile look like a sneer. There was something about him that was untrustworthy. Qui-Gon would say that it was because he was a politician and that he should be expected to be a bit untrustworthy, but Obi-Wan felt different around him than he did around other senators and politicians. Palpatine made Obi-Wan feel uneasy, so he kept the chancellor at arms length.
âIâd like to introduce you to Representative Ellia Bel Iblis from Corellia. Or, perhaps itâs not really an introductionâIâve been told youâve worked together before?â He motioned to the blonde haired woman, who nodded at Obi-Wan finally.
âYes, years ago, when I was still a Padawan, on a mission to Corellia. My lady, itâs good to see you again,â he said, bowing again. She stared at him, her green eyes piercing, just as they were all those years ago.
âKenobi,â She smirked just a little and Obi-Wan felt his heart rate pick up a bit. âSo they call you the negotiator now,â she said. Her voice was not at all like the rest of the senators and aides that lived on Coruscant for so long. She still had that signature slow Corellian drawl, just like her father. âThe Jedi who would be a Senator.â She added and Obi-Wan blinked for a moment.
âI don't believe I could ever be on the same level of a diplomat as you or any of the Senators in this room, my lady,â Obi-Wan answered carefully. She clearly had grown in her dislike of Jedi, that much was clear.
âNo,â She said quietly, her eyes trained on him for a moment. âBut you certainly do try, don't you?â Bail hid a chuckle behind a cough and Obi-Wan glanced at him, feeling his cheeks turn a bit red as Senator Bel Iblis sighed at Ellia and said something to her quietly. Obi-Wan chose not to respond as she turned to the Chancellor.
âChancellor Palpatine, I must, once again, object to bringing the Jedi into this situation,â Ellia said quickly, jumping on the awkward silence in the room. âMyself and my bodyguards have been able to handle thisââ
âRepresentative Bel Iblis, with all due respect, that was before a bomb threat was called into the Senate building this afternoon.â Chancellor Palpatine sighed. âMaster Jedi, Ellia has received multiple death threats recently, and I am concerned for her safety.â Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak butâ
âIf you are concerned for my safety, then perhaps we should get the bill my father and I wrote to a vote instead of continuing to allow the Banking Clan to take advantage of poor families in my system and in other systems who have no other way to get credits,â Representative Bel Iblis interrupted angrily. Her father started to speak but Ellia continued, not allowing him to get a word in edgewise. âYou know this is Nix Card and his cronies trying to frighten my father and other Senators into dropping our bill, and I won't have it. This is an attempt at intimidation, clear and simple,â she stated, slamming her hands down on the chancellor's desk loud enough that Anakin jumped. âYour Excellency, if you truly wish to help me, then add our bill to the next Senate session, so it may be discussed and voted upon.â She pleaded. The chancellor sighed again and pushed himself up, moving closer to her and taking her hand in his. She immediately stiffened and Obi-Wan thought to himself that everyone in the room would be able to feel her discomfort.
âEllia, you are important to Senator Bel Iblis, so you are important to me,â the chancellor said, his voice as gentle as he could muster. âRegardless if this is an intimidation tactic by the Muuns, which it may very well be, your life could be in danger and it is not a stretch to ask for Jedi assistance.â
âAnd I thank you for that, Chancellor, but there is no reason to involve Jedi-â She started, pulling away and discreetly wiping her hand on her skirt. Obi-Wan tilted his head, noticing how she seemingly spit the word out. The chancellor cut her off.
âAnd the Jedi are trained as warriors and protectors of the Republic, and of its servants,â he turned in a swish of robes to Obi-Wan and his former master. âIs that not correct, Master Jedi?â
âThat is correct, your Excellency,â Obi-Wan said carefully. âBut if Representative Bel Iblis would rather that we not get involved, I believe it best to abide by her wishes.â
âAh, thereâs the smooth talker I was warned about,â the senator mumbled under her breath and Obi-Wan frowned a bit.
âOf course, if the Senator thinks it might be a good idea to have some added protection at this time, then perhaps that is the correct course of action as I believe him to be the senior in this matter,â He added and Ellia turned, her green eyes glaring daggers into his soul. Obi-Wan noticed her hands balled up into fists and for a moment, he truly thought she would take a swing at the Chancellor. Or perhaps at him, who really knew? He turned his gaze to her father, who looked over at her.
âIâm sorry, Ellia,â Senator Bel Iblis said softly. âYour safety is my number one priority. You will have the Jedi escort.â
âFatherââ she pleaded but the chancellor clapped his hands together once.
âThat settles it,â he said almost cheerfully. âMaster Kenobi, it would put peace in my heart if you would accompany Representative Bel Iblis until we get all this horrible business sorted out.â
âChancellor, I really must object,â Representative Bel Iblis started but the Chancellor shook his head.
âThe decision has been made,â He stated firmly. She sputtered angrily then turned, storming out, her blonde hair flowing behind her almost as an exclamation point to her anger as she rushed out the door. Bail moved closer to Obi-Wan, chuckling softly.
âHave fun with that one,â he said softly. âThey don't call her Senator Spitfire for nothing.â Obi-Wan ran a hand over his chin nervously as he glanced at Senator Bel Iblis, who offered him an apologetic shrug.
âI still don't understand politics,â Anakin sighed forlornly and Qui-Gon chuckled as he led the young Padawan out.
5 notes
¡
View notes
Sahsahlah, or âThe Land of Wise Foolsâ
AN: Itâs been a really long time and a lot has happened since I last tried writing, but I figured I might as well give it another try. My goal is to have this finished and posted by the end of the year, but that might shift a little with time! As always, please comment/share if you like my work!!
A Long Time Ago, in A Galaxy Far Far AwayâŚ
Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi have killed the Sith Lord Darth Maul, although his masterâs whereabouts are still unknown. Defeating Maul ended with Obi-Wan passing the trials and becoming a Jedi Knight. Qui-Gon is currently training Anakin Skywalker. Instead of taking a Padawan, Obi-Wan is a Knight in his own right, opting to go on more diplomatic missions alone, working on his negotiating skills and making connections within the senate. A year after Maulâs death, Obi-Wan is well known throughout the galaxy for his skills at debate, as well as his lightsaber prowess. Obi-Wan, to many younglings and Masters alike, is the perfect Jedi Knight, although he doesnât feel as though he has earned that title. Obi-Wan has been called back to Coruscant in order to help solve a mystery. The young Representative from Corellia has had multiple death threats regarding her and her fatherâs work involving the Banking Clan, and the new Chancellor, Palpatine from Naboo, is worried for her safety. As Obi-Wan heads back to the planet he once called home, he senses more is happening than he might be first expecting and is more than a little surprised when he sees a face from the pastâŚ
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
15 notes
¡
View notes
bucky barnes is such a nerd i love him more than anything in my LIFE
someone: hey how are yâ
me: I canât believe the Winter Soldier shot Nick Fury through the wall in Steve Rogersâ apartment from the roof of a building opposite using only the line of sight Steveâs point of view gave him through the kitchen window. Do you know the kind of skill and technical ability that takes? He didnât even need to see his target to shoot him twice. He just had to see where Steve was looking and calculate the angle. Holy shit. Bucky Barnes is an incredible marksman and I donât know if Hydra capitulated on that or if that was all just his own skill being put to assassin use but holy shit. Holy shit. I just. Holy shit
19K notes
¡
View notes
let's go, don't wait - the set list
modern!eddieâs been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the bars, he hasnât been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. eddie enters the world of online dating, not having a great time. that is, until he meets you.
the soundtrack - ongoing/frequently updated.
part one
part two
part three (coming soon)
1K notes
¡
View notes
let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)
inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best!
series masterlist
summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him.
cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)
With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasnât expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the schoolâs GSA) â which heâd only be annoyed about running if he didnât absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didnât hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.
At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then heâd feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start â youâd never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, youâd only been on one date.
But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie.Â
gâmorning prettyÂ
ew youâre obsessed with me.
good morning, boy
Heâs happy he knows youâre joking because heâs certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. Thatâs why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesnât know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.
whatâs your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but iâd really like to see you before you go.Â
You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year youâd been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. Youâre cute when youâre excited but he didnât want to embarrass you by saying so â just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture.Â
âYou were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? Youâd be into pictures of fossils?"
âWhy are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid thatâs into dinosaurs?â
âNo, heâd be so sad.â
âSo next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine youâre saying it to nine year old me.â
âI bet you were a cute kid,â you thought out loud, âYouâre a really cute adult.âÂ
âYou think Iâm cute?â
âThe cutest.â
His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when heâd check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it.Â
âDid you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?âÂ
âThis is not appropriate class discussion guys,â his eyes would shut tight in frustration when theyâd catch him texting you back and heâd reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age.
âNo because like, youâre so happy though. Look how youâre smiling when you text her.â
âMr. Munsonâs got that W rizz.âÂ
âIs she hot?â
âBe fucking forreal. Heâs blushing so hard right now.â
âSmash or pass, Munson?â
âGuys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now."
Bzz. Bzz.
i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially
He sighed, he didnât want to wait until next Friday to see you again.Â
i could run errands with you if youâll have me. iâll drive!
you sure? itâs not super exciting stuff.
you make it exciting. :) iâll take you out to lunch. sound good?
okay :)
okay :)Â
see you saturday, cutie
omg shut up đ
but yeah. see you saturday. :)Â
He was nervous youâd notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning.Â
You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you arenât for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the âsecond winterâ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside â reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you.
âHey you,â he smiles, âGood morning.âÂ
âMorning,â you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you werenât ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you.Â
âSo whatâs the agenda, sugar?â he asks. Â
âOkay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,â you say, raising your bag, âI have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and umâŚI think thatâs it? Theyâre all in the same shopping center over by um â by the movie theater.âÂ
âOh yeah,â he nods, âI know the one.âÂ
He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of Godâs Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you donât know it, but you donât seem appalled or repulsed.Â
âDo you have a tunes preference?â he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, âItâs a long drive.âÂ
âUhâŚâ your knee bounces faster, âI mean itâs your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.âÂ
âHoney, Iâm like your Uber driver today,â he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddieâs gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, âHowâm I gonna get a five star review if you donât like the music?âÂ
âI do!â you assure aggressively, âI do like it.â
âHere, I have a plan,â he nods, holding his hand out, âGimme your phone.âÂ
You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, âJust trust me, give me your phone.âÂ
âHereâs the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,â he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the carâs Bluetooth and connects yours instead, âBut I get to pick the songs. Deal?âÂ
A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, âThatâs ridiculous.âÂ
âBut is it a deal?â he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. Itâs not fair that you look so cute this morning, itâs not fair that he doesnât have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasnât lying when he said you were so kissable.Â
âItâs a deal,â you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you donât notice.Â
âOkay, so letâs seeâŚâ he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face.Â
âBlood Brothers?â he asks, âWow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I havenât heard this album in years.â
âI started liking them for a boy back in high school,â you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, âThen started liking them forreal.â
âThatâs okay,â he smiles over at you, âYouâd be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as youâd expect.âÂ
âNo?â your brows raise, âNot a bunch of âStabby Metal Scream Crunch Stabâ in your top ten?âÂ
He scoffs, settling on âSet Fire to the Face on Fireâ, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, âI married the head cheerleader at my high school â Iâd like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metalâs just, yâknow, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.âÂ
âYou a big fan of having something on the side?â you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. Youâre quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.
âWhyâre you so mean, huh?â he teases, âDo I look like the kind of guy thatâs had a lot of side pieces?âÂ
âOh,â you start, giving him a once over, âNot even close.âÂ
âYouâre here with me, arenât you?â he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you.
âYeah, yeah, youâre right,â you drone, turning yourself toward him in return, âI guess I am.â
Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them.Â
âSo uhâŚbefore we hit the road,â his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, âDâyou-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?â
It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb â like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what heâs asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again.Â
âYeah, but itâs not stealing if Iâm letting you have one,â you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one heâd been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. Itâs as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment heâs been replaying in his head since last Monday.Â
You both break apart but he doesnât move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, âAre you nervous?âÂ
âI donât know,â you shrug, âI think maybe, yeah. But Iâm excited, too. Yâknow, to spend the day with you.âÂ
Itâs his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, âIf it makes you feel any better, Iâm nervous, too. But itâs just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?âÂ
âOkay,â you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles.Â
âI do have a rule, though,â his brows furrow, implying heâs serious. You look very seriously back at him.Â
âI gotta kiss you every time youâre startinâa look a little too good,â he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driverâs seat while he pulls onto the road, âCause I donât know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.âÂ
You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, âYouâre so stupid.âÂ
âIâm just a man, sugar,â he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than heâd planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do.Â
âThose cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!â
âDamn, me and the band shoulder cover this,â he nods to himself, âWeâd fuckinâ crush.âÂ
âCan you scream like that?â you ask, turning your head to face him, âI feel like Iâd blow my vocal chords.âÂ
âEh, sorta kinda,â he tilts his head from side to side, âI got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff â lead guitar if you remember ââ
âI remember,â you smile, âAnd his wife Alycia.âÂ
âAnd is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,â he smiles, âYou should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there â itâs super impressive.â
âWell when you cover it, Iâll come watch,â you nod, âYou still havenât really told me about your band.âÂ
âCorroded Coffin?â he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, âNot much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun â still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.âÂ
His eyes widen at the realization, âTwelve years, Jesus. Iâm so fuckinâ old.â  Â
âOh, thank god I only have two years until Iâm fuckinâ old,â you laugh, âYou donât look old.âÂ
âYou donât look old either,â he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, âWhat can I get you?âÂ
âOh no, no,â you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, âIâll get it, seriously. Youâre driving me.âÂ
âNo, please, Iâll get it,â he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card.Â
âI wanna pay for it, youâre already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,â you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, youâre very obviously not taken by his actions.Â
âLook,â he shrugs, voice lowering, âI didnât wanna say anything cause I didnât know how youâd react. But this location actually doesnât accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when itâs totally against all my shit. But since they donât accept any payments from women, Iâm gonna have to pay or else we canât get coffee.âÂ
You roll your eyes but canât hold back your laugh, âFuck, why do you have to be funny about it?âÂ
âYou think Iâm funny, huh?â he grins, pulling up to the microphone box.Â
âYeah, funny lookinâ,â you tease. Eddie âtsksâ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you.Â
âWhat can I get you?â he asks again.Â
âMedium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,â you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. Youâre not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you donât like it either. Or at least you donât know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other â he wonders if youâve ever known how to take.Â
He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, thereâs something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like heâs not supposed to see.Â
âHey, you know my rule,â he says, leaning in again, âYouâre startinâ to look at little too good right now.âÂ
Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck.Â
âThank you,â he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Camâronâs Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically.Â
âAnother banger,â he exclaims.Â
âYou know this song?â you ask with surprise.Â
âI grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,â he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you werenât showing any sign that you did.Â
âGot drops. Got coupes.
Got trucks. Got jeeps.
Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight
So ma. Wassup?
Let's slide. Alright.
Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.â
He likes that youâre impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines.Â
You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatanaâs.Â
âNow I was down town clubbinâ, ladies night,
Seen shorty she was crazy right,
And I approached baby like,
âMa, whatâs your age and type?â
She looked at me and said, âYous a baby right?ââ
He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. Heâs surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool heâs being about it.Â
âI told her, Iâm eighteen and live a crazy life,
Plus Iâll tell you what the 80s like,
and I know what the ladies like,
Need a man thatâs polite, listens and takes advice.
I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe.
Come with me, come stay the night.âÂ
He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows heâs got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is.Â
âYou better be careful,â you warn, tongue caught between your teeth.
âYeah? I better be careful?â he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway.Â
âYouâre trouble, Munson,â you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, âYouâre big trouble.âÂ
âShe looked at me laughinâ like, âBoy your game is tight.â
Iâm laughinâ back like, âSure, youâre right.ââÂ
âDâyou need a cart?â Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target.Â
âNah, if I get a cart Iâm just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,â you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, âAnd while Iâd love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.â
âBasket it is,â he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where itâs encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you.Â
He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, âI can hold it, Ed.âÂ
He gives you a small shake of his head, âNah, Iâll carry it. You lead the way. Whatâs on your list?âÂ
âI mostly just need to get travel stuffâŚlike toiletries,â you think out loud, âI guess this wasnât really much of a big errand now that I think about it.âÂ
âThatâs okay,â he says, and he means it.Â
You donât go straight to the beauty section. Youâre taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tatiâs always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.
âSo, do you want me to keep you on task?â he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, âOr do you want me to aid in you not being on task?âÂ
You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through.Â
âWe have all day, right?â you smirk.Â
âAll day,â he nods, âYou a walking through the aisles type of girl?âÂ
âIs that a deal breaker?â you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow.Â
âNo, not at all,â he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, âIâm a walking through the aisles type of guy.âÂ
âWas I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?â you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.
âWell thatâs the thing,â he says with a tilt of his head, âYouâre always lookinâ a little too good.âÂ
He hums when you roll your eyes, âHmm. Howâd I know that was coming?âÂ
âWhyâre you so nice to me all the time, huh?â you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand.Â
âI guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,â he jokes back, âAnd an even worse Uber driver.âÂ
âSo true, actually. Zero stars,â you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, âYâknow greenâs a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.âÂ
âOhâŚâ he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So sheâs been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way Iâm always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think Iâm cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it âcause weâre looking at towels?Â
âUm, thank you. Iâll um, Iâll wear it more often,â he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but â this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy?Â
âYou should,â you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, âWhat happened to not being nervous?âÂ
âThatâs a rule for you,â he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, itâs the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, âI can be as nervous as I want.âÂ
âAh, I see, rules for thee, not for me,â you nod slowly.Â
âSee! Now youâre getting it,â he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, âYeah, I want you to hold it.âÂ
When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They werenât last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girlâs hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you â Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands.
You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He letâs you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still arenât sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but heâs caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever.Â
You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddieâs fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing.Â
âThis is so perfect for my living room,â you murmur to yourself, âItâs so cute.âÂ
Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.
âNot seventy five dollars cute,â you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf.Â
âSeventy five dollars?â he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, âWhat, did they shear the sheep here or something?âÂ
âThatâs capitalism for ya,â you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, âOh well, Iâm sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.âÂ
âMâsorry, sweetheart,â he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze.Â
âSweetheartâŚâ you repeat back, âThatâs cute.âÂ
âThatâs cute? Okay,â he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, âIâll keep note of that.âÂ
You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear itâs a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause theyâre on TV? Frickinâ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that youâre cute when youâre mad. He canât let go of your hand. He doesnât even care that youâre both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something.Â
âOh, hold on, I gotta look at these,â you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twentyâs 3AM fades into Desâreeâs You Gotta Be.Â
âDecorative wicker baskets?â he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store.Â
âI need two for under my dresser,â you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, âSâfor my socks and stuff.âÂ
He tosses you a look and you look back at him, âDonât ask.âÂ
You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You arenât mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. Youâre so into it, too. He guesses this is what youâre like when no oneâs around to watch you. How unfortunate that youâre so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it.Â
âHey,â he says, putting the basket down, âWhat did I say about looking too good?âÂ
âWhat?â you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, âAm I taking too long?â
âNo,â he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, âNo baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.âÂ
You canât help but feel girlish when heâs like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest.Â
âCâmere,â he whispers, pressing you back with his body so youâre flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if youâll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and itâs enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him
âWait, wait,â you gasp, breaking away, âWeâre gonna get in trouble.âÂ
âYou think Iâm scared of getting in trouble?â he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you donât do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, âIâve been gettinâ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.âÂ
His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. Heâs not sure if itâs pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever heâs doing, heâs pretty sure you like it â his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again.Â
âEd,â you mumble quietly, âI canât be turned on at Target.âÂ
âYes you can,â he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you.Â
âUhâŚhey folks,â a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention.Â
âSorry to uh, to interrupt but, um â yâknow, this is a family friendly store and we just â yeah, Iâm sorry. Youâre not in trouble or anything,â he offers, stumbling over his words.Â
âThanks man,â Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, âSorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, yâknow?âÂ
The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest.Â
âYouâre so fucking annoying,â you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, âBaskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.âÂ
Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, âLook, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?âÂ
You nod, âJust text me when youâre done and Iâll tell you where I am, okay?âÂ
âCool,â he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, âSee you in a bit.âÂ
hey, where are you at?easter stuff, i got distracted very godly of you
He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that youâre on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries.Â
âEaster candy?â he asks.Â
âItâs the best holiday candy, easily,â you confess, âI know people will probably say Halloween since thatâs the candy holiday, but dude, thereâs something about Cadbury eggs.âÂ
âYeah?â he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you donât protest when he does, âIsnât it supposed to be from the UK? Donât they have better chocolate by proxy?âÂ
âI think so,â you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, âHave you ever had them?âÂ
âIâm sure I have,â he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, âI guess Iâm more of a Halloween guy.âÂ
âBoring,â you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in.Â
âKobe!â you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddieâs feet on the tile.Â
âToo soon,â Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, âHowâre you gonna call out a legendâs name and then miss?âÂ
âI feel like you moved it so that Iâd miss,â you accuse playfully.Â
âI kept it exactly where it was, I think youâre just not very good at basketball,â he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you.Â
âYou just donât wanna see me be great,â you tease.Â
âOh, stop,â he tutts, âYouâre very great.âÂ
Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point.Â
âYou get everything you need to get?â he asks against your lips. You nod, a little âmhmâ squeaks out of your throat, âGood, cause they canât yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.âÂ
The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendyâs waffle fries over the center console.Â
Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. Whatâs going to come up next thatâll surprise him? Whatâs he gonna find out about you?Â
âBaby, I know youâre hurting,
Right now you feel like you could never love again.
Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove,
That I love you.âÂ
Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, âOh shit. I havenât heard this song in years!â
âYou know this song, too?â you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire.Â
âYou really donât think Iâm cultured, do you?â he jokes, âI have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.â
âOf course,â you murmur with an eye roll, âWhatâs your favorite NSYNC song?âÂ
âOoh, let me see,â he thinks while he turns onto the highway, âDefinitely Drive Myself Crazy. Iâd always try to hit JCâs runs.â
âYou knew their names too?âÂ
âI told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,â he explains, âMrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then Iâd go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.âÂ
âWere you always there?â you ask, âAt your babysitterâs house?âÂ
âYeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. Heâs yâknow â heâs in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so â if I wasnât at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school â but anyway â wow â off topic there â yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,â he finishes. Â
âIâm sorry,â you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze.Â
âNo, donât be. Itâs okay. Iâm okay â I turned out pretty cool, I think,â he shrugs.
âYouâre really cool,â you smile, Eddie smiles back.Â
âWhatâs your favorite Backstreet Boys song?â he asks.Â
âHey Mr. DJ, easy,â you tell him, âItâs the most fucknasty song theyâve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. Iâm trying to make a child to that song.âÂ
Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, âThe most fucknasty song? Weâll have to play that next.âÂ
âYou wonât be disappointed,â you say, âAJ sings it and he was my favorite.âÂ
âOh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,â he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. Heâs not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more.Â
âI saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,â Eddie says, âFor their Millenium Tour â was when I Want It That Way was huge.âÂ
âYou got tickets?â you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face.Â
âSummer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,â he starts.Â
âSo anyway, she finds out on the radio that theyâre giving away tickets to a show in Columbus â cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows â and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like âMom, heâs familyâ. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt yâknow? But as a kid I was like âDamn youâre gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.ââ
âNot Tool!â you laugh. Â
âBut it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which Iâm sure cost her a fortune but â damn. I had a lot of fun.âÂ
âIt sounds like you did.â
âThe most crazy thing though â which Iâve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special â was when I saw them perform, I thought like, âWow, I wanna do this when I grow up.â So in a way, if it wasnât for the Backstreet Boys, I wouldâve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,â he confesses, âAnd I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff âcause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like âDamn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!ââÂ
âI love that,â you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head.Â
He shrugs, âIt was a cool dream to have but, I donât know. That ship has long sailed.âÂ
âWhat do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,â you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth.Â
He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, âNo I canât. Iâm too old now.âÂ
âToo old? Shut up,â you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, âMetallicaâs still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And theyâre all like â in their sixties for fuckâs sake.âÂ
âOkay?â he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, âAnd? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. Iâm fuckingâŚthirty-two.âÂ
âExactly! Youâre only thirty-two,â you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, âYou have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.âÂ
Eddieâs chest gets tight when you say that â it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. Heâd missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissyâs praise when theyâd get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage.Â
âYou canât be saying shit like that to me,â he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his.Â
âWhy not?â you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green.Â
ââCause youâre gonna make me fall in love with you.â
Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, âOh, okay. Iâll be meaner if thatâs not what youâre going for.âÂ
âItâs definitely what Iâm going for,â he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly.Â
The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, Iâll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridgesâ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. Itâs a comforting touch, no implications other than â I like being here with you right now.Â
âThe world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl.
You're the only one that I want,
Wanna be around.
Wanna be around, girl,
Wanna be around, girl,
Ooh, wanna be around, girl...â
âI like this,â Eddie says, his voice soft, âWho is this?âÂ
âLeon Bridges,â you answer, âThe whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.âÂ
âI was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,â he enthuses, âI like the old timey vibe.âÂ
âItâs cozy, right?â you ask.Â
âVery cozy,â he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest, âYou gettinâ sleepy?âÂ
âKinda,â you yawn, âYouâre not boring me or anything, I promise.âÂ
âThatâs okay,â he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, âWeâll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.âÂ
You frown, âYou sure? Am I being lame?âÂ
âNah, youâre not being lame,â he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do.Â
After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I donât know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now?Â
âWhatâd I miss?â you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped.Â
âA few showtunes and Mariahâs Vision of Love,â he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, âIâm partial to My All but thatâs cause Iâm a professional sad boy.âÂ
âMy All is on there, but itâs probably good I was out for Vision of Love â you didnât have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,â you laugh.
âDo you sing?â he asks. You shake your head no.Â
âI did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,â you explain, âBut I wouldnât call myself much of a singer.âÂ
âIâm sure Iâll find out if thatâs true sooner or later,â he offers. Itâs part way through Good Charlotteâs Girls & Boys, volume low so he didnât disturb you sleeping.Â
âThis song makes me laugh,â you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard.Â
âLike, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after â now they just sound like womenâs empowerment.âÂ
âTell me more,â he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again.Â
âLike, âGirls donât like boys, girls like cars and money.â Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money â Iâm a person. âPaper or plastic, donât matter, sheâll have it.â Like itâs a bad thing! Sounds like sheâs thriving, heâs paying for everything and she didnât even ask him to, sheâs just sitting there looking hot!â you continue, âSounds like a dream to be honest!â
âYeah!â he nods, mulling it over in his head, âFuckinâ â good for her!âÂ
âIâm happy for her!â you laugh, he laughs with you. Itâs nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that youâre sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes.Â
âI donât wanna go,â you frown, shoulders slumping, âI wanna keep hanging out.âÂ
âI know,â he says gently, âI wanna keep hanging out, too â but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.â
âI know,â you scrunch your nose, âSo stupid.âÂ
âSo stupid,â he agrees, âHow dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weatherâs nice.â
âWell when you put it like that,â you say with a tilt of your head and a smile.Â
âLet me get your stuff out of the trunk,â he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you.Â
âHere,â he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your bossâs sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, âSorry, forgot a bag.âÂ
He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, âEdâŚâ
âI didnât really have to pee,â he confesses, âYou just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.âÂ
âItâs really nice,â you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, âI just donât want to likeâŚfeel like I owe you something.âÂ
âNo, no, no,â he hurriedly shakes his head, âPlease donât feel like that. This really was just like â itâs not like a power move or anything Iâm not like that, I promise â I donât want anything in return, seriously.âÂ
âExcept maybe a picture when itâs all set up nice in your living room,â he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception.Â
âIâll see you when I come back,â you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up.
âYou act like youâre going to war, sugar,â he teases, âLike youâre not gonna text me in five minutes.âÂ
âEw, bye,â you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch.Â
âBye,â he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since heâs pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth.Â
it looks great in my living room.
oh shit itâs only been five minutes.
đĄ fuck you.Â
By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you werenât busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didnât seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when youâd send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand.Â
these would make cool dice for d&d, right?
the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me.
let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that.
so needy. Â
oh, so you miss me? of course i do :)
i miss you, too :)Â
âSo whenâre we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?â Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, âOr does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldnât know about?âÂ
Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancyâs office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up.
The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasnât gay, they wouldâve gotten married the day that they met.Â
âWell sheâs not my girlfriend yet, for one,â Eddie starts, defensively, âAnd if you wanna know if sheâs real, hereâs her Instagram.âÂ
He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, âNot bad at all, Munson.âÂ
âLet me see,â Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, âOh, smash. Immediately smash.â
Steve passes Eddieâs phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, âYou didnât fuck?âÂ
âNot yet, Harrington,â Eddie sighs, âIâll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?âÂ
âIâm just saying,â Steve shrugs, âI wouldâve fucked her already.âÂ
âYeah, we know loverboy,â Robin teases. Eddieâs shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, heâd definitely be able to take you. Heâs hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day â Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his fratâs sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted.Â
âTell her to follow me,â Steve winks.Â
âItâs the first thing I did when I met her, actually â told her to follow you,â Eddie jokes back.Â
whatâre you doing?
happy hour with the group.
well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way.
fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control.
also look at these cool rocks.
oh, sick â what kind are they?
the vendor said theyâre ocean jasper
do you want one?
will you get a matching one with me?
also linger is playing at the bar right now and itâsâŚmaking me think about you?
stupid as hell.
absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute?
pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, heâs âlingerâing over my shoulder.
lmao youâre so corny
âIs she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?â he asks impatiently.
âSheâs still working, man,â Eddie flips his phone over so the screen canât be seen, âAnd even if she does, Iâm not gonna show it to you.â
âYeah, donât be such a perv Steve,â Robin sasses, âGet me another rum and coke instead.âÂ
After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddieâs had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you mightâve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you.
Youâre busy and heâs bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks.
âYou look so sad right now,â Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, âYou miss your girl?âÂ
Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, âI do.â
âGuys this is the one, Iâve never seen him like this before,â Tatianna grins, âHeâs down bad.âÂ
Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, âHinge is the truth, Iâm telling you.âÂ
âI mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,â Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of âCâmon Wheeler,â sound out of a few of them.Â
âWhen you know, you know, kid,â Gareth offers softly, âAnd I think Ed knows.âÂ
âWhenâre we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?â Erica giggles next to him.
âExactly what I was saying earlier,â Steve adds.Â
âI donât think you need to meet her, Steve,â Dustin laughs, âLet him have something, for Godâs sake.âÂ
âWell,â Nancy starts, âI mean, Steveâs party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.âÂ
âThatâs actually such a good idea,â Tatianna agrees.Â
âBut I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,â Eddie sulks.Â
âYeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,â she argues, âYou should tell her to come. Weâll take care of her before you show up.âÂ
âIâll take realgood care of her, Munson,â Steve grins.
âSteve.â
Eddieâs head is down on his forearms so he doesnât know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again â this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now itâs every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat â Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tatiâs art show?
He doesnât have all the answers yet and he doesnât know where youâre at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?
Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it. Â
The following night he was up late grading papers he shouldâve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadnât reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage.Â
The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser.Â
hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdaleâs and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. itâs no excuse honestly but i shouldâve messaged you to let you know i was busy. iâm sorry, handsome :(
thought about you all day if that helpsÂ
Eddieâs heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark.Â
donât apologize, sweetheart, i know youâre busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately.
LMAO. iâll take that as a compliment.
whatâre you doing up so late?Â
grading papers, but iâm done now. iâd ask why youâre up so late but itâs only nine thirty there.
whatâre you up to?
trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?
âDo I wanna see it?â he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, âOf course I wanna see it.âÂ
yeah, show me :)Â
He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand.Â
And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. âFuck,â he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, youâre so fucking grabbable he canât even stand it.Â
jfc
you know what youâre doingÂ
whaaaaat? what do you mean?Â
âwhat do you meaaaannn đ¤Şâ you know what i mean.Â
do you not like it?Â
i like it a little too muchÂ
you wanna see it from the back?Â
âJesus fucking Christ,â he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers.Â
of course i doÂ
He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how youâre turned to still have your pretty face in frame. Heâd fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.
do you want me to hop on a flight or??how much are tickets to az? iâm about to come thru. you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn? lmao you know i donâtđ sorry iâm all the way in a different state, iâd help take care of it.Â
âYeah?â he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, âYou wanna take care of it for me?âÂ
yeah? youâd take care of it? only if you asked nicely :)Â
âFuck,â he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand.Â
iâd ask very nicely. iâd even say please.Â
what a good boy. :)Â
âMâsuch a good boy,â he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, âIâll be so good for you.âÂ
would you want me to use my hands or my mouth?Â
âOh my fucking God,â he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how heâd want you first.Â
i like the idea of keeping your mouth full oh you wanna shut me up? is that it? i donât think it takes much.Â
His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off.Â
âYeah, suck it just like thatâŚâ he hums out, âPlease more.â His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. Theyâd look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.
âT-take all of it,â he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that?Â
Bzz. Bzz.
oh yeah cause youâre soooo big đ
âPsh,â he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so youâd stop being such a brat.Â
youâre gonna feel so stupid when you see itÂ
you sound very confident because i am is it big?Â
He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times sheâd seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls heâd pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit.Â
its big, sweetheart.
but i think you can take it. i know i can take it. so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldnât be so cocky if you were here. so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. đi can tell by how youâre talking that you really like the idea of that. so you are jerking it in your bedroom? the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs
He doesnât know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how youâll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good.Â
đ stop yeah? i can stop. donât actually, iâm just embarrassed đŠhow come? cause i do have my fingers between my thighsÂ
âFuuuuuck me,â he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss wonât hear you through the hotelâs thin walls.Â
does it feel good, sweetheart? it would feel better if you were doing it for me. can i call you?
âCan I call you?â he reads out loud, in a whisper, âCan IâŚcall youâŚâÂ
absolutely.Â
Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like heâs on a roller coaster while it continues to ring.Â
He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does.Â
âHey there,â he murmurs.Â
âHi,â your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan.Â
âHi,â he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again.Â
âDo you wanna hear something embarrassing?â you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh.Â
âAlways,â he swoons out, low and warm.Â
âYour voice is so hot to me,â you giggle, âI donât think I could finish if I didnât hear it.âÂ
âAh, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,â he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax.Â
âSorry,â you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, âYou having a hot voice isnât embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.âÂ
He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head â his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead.Â
âSânot embarrassing,â his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, âYou all wet for me, sugar?âÂ
âYeah,â you whine to him.Â
âWish I could be there to take care of you,â he huffs, âIâd make you feel so good.â Â
âHow?â you ask breathily.Â
He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, âIâd take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.âÂ
âIâm not needy,â you protest.Â
âNot needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?â he argues playfully, âOh yeah, not needy at all, baby.âÂ
You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver.Â
âYou like that?â he asks lowly, âWhen Iâm a little mean to you?âÂ
âYeahâŚâÂ
âFuckâŚâ he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.
âWait â are you actually jacking it right now?â you ask with a laugh.Â
âYeah,â he sighs back, âAre you surprised?âÂ
âHow long have you been doing it?âÂ
âSince you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,â he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly.Â
âIs that how you wanna fuck me?â your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, âFrom the back?âÂ
âMaybe not at first,â he starts, imagining heâs in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you.Â
âIâd probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,â he offers, âWatch you take it.âÂ
You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over.Â
âBut if Iâm being honestâŚâ he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks heâs hearing right, youâre very wet. Just because of him, the way heâs talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low.Â
âI canât wait to get my mouth on that pussy,â he slurs out, drunk on the idea.Â
âMmm, fuck,â you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit.
âOh, you like the sound of that, huh?â he asks, a light raise to his voice, âYou like thinking about me between your legs?âÂ
âYes,â you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like heâs the one making it punch out of you.Â
âI know youâd take it so good, too. Youâd get so messy for me,â he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, âJust like you are right now, hm? Waiting for me to come over ânâ fuck you stupid?â
âPlease,â you whine into a growl, âPlease fuck me stupid.âÂ
âOh baby, I will,â he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, âF-fuck till you canât fuckin â mmmf â canât fuckinâ think.â
âOh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!â you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down.Â
âDid you cum for me, sugar?â he drawls.Â
âMhm,â you squeak out.
His grin doesnât fade, it turns dirty, filthy, âGood girl.âÂ
âDonât say that.â He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. Heâs normally not like that, thatâs not something he thinks heâs ever said in bed â at least not sober.Â
âI wonât say it, Iâm sorry. You donât like that?â he asks thoughtfully.Â
âI like it a lot and youâre too far away,â you say softly.Â
âPoor thing,â he offers.Â
âI am a poor thing!â you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, âIâm excited to see you again, when I come back.âÂ
âIâm excited to see you, too,â he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, âBut lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.âÂ
âVisual learner?â you tease.
âPhysical, too,â he counters.Â
âYou really are trouble,â you laugh, âAnd um â I donât want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.âÂ
âI donât think that at all,â he assures, âI really, really like spending time with you. Iâm â and this is gonna sound super lame â but Iâm excited to keep on getting to know you.âÂ
âLamest thing Iâve ever heard,â you laugh, âBut also, same. We can be lame together.â
âOh â uh, by the way,â Eddieâs voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, âThe group really wants to meet you and I know itâs gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steveâs birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if youâre gonna be too tired.â
âOh no, Iâd love that!â he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, âSteveâs the one whose Instagram request I shouldnât accept, right?â
Eddie laughs, âRight.â
You both talk for a little longer before he tells you itâs getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesnât want to hang up, but youâre both too old to be doing the âfalling asleep on the phoneâ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours.Â
Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs â heâs tired. He doesnât want to go to Steveâs party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but youâre gonna be there so heâs doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhemâs Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there.
He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacherâs bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didnât know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled â he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest youâd ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned.Â
He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story youâre telling. Youâre all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped âARIZONAâ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere.Â
âEddie!â Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and heâs surprised he hasnât already fallen to his knees.
âStarted without me, huh?â he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand.
âI tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me oneâŚor two,â you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steveâs eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, âHer ass? Insane.â putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go.Â
âEveryoneâs been really nice though,â you smile, giving him a once over, âYou look really good.âÂ
âThank you,â he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, âYou look too good. Donât think I can let you stick around here too long.âÂ
âSâkinda hot when youâre like that,â you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequilaâs blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell youâre just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy.Â
âLike what?â
âA lilâ possessive,â you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment.Â
âOkay,â he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that youâre chest to chest, both of you laughing against each otherâs lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling.Â
âI missed you,â he says confidently.Â
âI missed you,â you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didnât feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group.Â
âWhatâre you having tonight, big boy?â Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug.Â
âSurprise me â you doing shots?â he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartenderâs attention when she makes his way over.Â
âCan I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?â he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour.
âI donât really like Jameson,â you scrunch your nose.Â
âWell baby, theyâre all for me, so donât worry about it,â he grins playfully, white teeth shining, âIâll get you something else when you finish that drink.âÂ
You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatiannaâs vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind.Â
âGuess who it is,â she laughs.Â
âSomeone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,â he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand.Â
âLook, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so â you canât even be mad,â she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, âCome sit with us really quick.âÂ
Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, âSheâs a big girl, sheâs been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.â
Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tatiâs drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents.
âSoâŚâ Eddie starts.Â
âI really like her, dude,â Gareth grins, âCame in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.âÂ
âAnd you, mom?â he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face.Â
âAll Iâm saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,â she shrugs, ââCause what if you had deleted the app that night? Wouldâve never met the love of your life right there.âÂ
âLove of my life? You think?â he asks, eyes widening.
âI know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,â Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, âAnd youâve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.âÂ
âSo you like her?â Eddie grins.Â
âWe love her,â Tatianna nods, âConsider her adopted.âÂ
âSteve loves her too, it looks like,â Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort.Â
âHeâs behaving himself, donât worry,â Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, âWe all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, heâs got two girls on his radar right now that heâs trying to take home if he doesnât get too drunk â but yâknow, weâre banking on the getting too drunk part.âÂ
âAlways banking on the getting too drunk part,â Gareth laughs.Â
The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all.Â
âWhat do you know about this song?â Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monetâs Coastinâ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses.Â
Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat.Â
âThink of the waaaays,
The ways I wanna give you this ass,
Just how you liiiiike,
Feel like a Thursday how Iâm throwinâ it back.â
âThe ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?â he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him â you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows youâre about to say something bitchy thatâll make him fall for you even harder.
âI donât think you could handle it,â you flirt.Â
âYou know something?â he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, âI think I can handle you just fine.â
You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. Itâs fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too. He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, itâs okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it.Â
Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. Youâre talking to Robin about a game thatâs like Sims but 8-bit âÂ
âItâs called Unpacking and itâs so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the personâs story by unpacking their boxes â sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you donât have to make up,â you enthuse.Â
âIs it on Steam?â she asks, âIâll literally buy it right now.âÂ
âWeâre partying, Rob, donât play a dumb game,â Steve whines.Â
âSheâs not gonna play it right now, Steve,â Nancy chides, âSheâs gonna play it later. Donât worry, we all know tonight is about you.âÂ
Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time.Â
âWhy does your Dragonâs Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?â Lucas huffs.Â
âDonât be so sad, Sinclair â you can always try to beat Redâs score,â Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair.Â
âSheâs 250 points behind you, and youâre both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,â he huffs.Â
âWhatâdâyou owe her this time?â he asks.Â
âI canât even tell you out loud,â he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this.Â
âAre there any other games in there that you have a high score on?â you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going.Â
âThe Dracula pinball machine,â he replies confidently.Â
âIâm gonna go beat it,â you grin up at him.Â
âOh yeah?â he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room, âYou even know how to play?âÂ
âYou can show me,â you shrug. He doesnât really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesnât want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machineâs music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain.Â
âDo you think I donât really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?â you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder.
âYou caught me,â he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, âIâm sure youâre gonna do just fine.âÂ
And you do, in fact, youâre really fucking good at pinball and heâs almost mad about it.
âWhere did you learn to do this?â he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again.Â
âSummers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,â you grin, âMy uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer â my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.â
âThatâs so hot to me, oh my god,â he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddieâs breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that heâs not sure if youâre doing it on purpose or not.Â
Rihannaâs Work starts over the speakers and thatâs when he knows itâs on purpose. Your movementâs pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. Youâre a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade.Â
While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesnât realize you arenât even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isnât new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows youâre surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory â rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it. Â
Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest.Â
âYou like beinâ a tease?â he asks, voice deep and daunting.Â
âJust getting you back for what you did under the table,â you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, âYouâre not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.â
âAlso, I beat you,â you grin.Â
âLooks like you did,â he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen.Â
âDo I win a prize?âÂ
âMâsure I can think of something,â he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall.
âWhat do you think you deserve?â he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, itâs the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesnât care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you.
âOh, itâs like that?â you giggle mischievously, âI donât think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.âÂ
âHmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,â he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull.
âKiss me,â you whine softly.
âMâsorry, sorry,â he smirks, meeting your lips again, âYou just smell really good, I like being in there.â
âYouâre a really good ââ Kiss. âMmm--kisser.â
âThanks, sugar, youâre ââ Kiss. âNot so bad your ââ Kiss. âMmm shit â yourself.âÂ
He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He canât hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight.Â
âLetâs get out of here,â he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again.Â
âYou donât wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy â oh, mmm â happy birthday?â you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place.Â
âThe only thing I wanna hear right now,â he purrs in your ear, âIs what you sound like when Iâm making you cum.âÂ
The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other.Â
He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, âFuck, Iâm sorry. Iâm so sorry.âÂ
âItâs fine, itâs fine,â you smile, âJust breathe. Iâm still gonna be here.âÂ
The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours.
Thereâs no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath.
âCâmere baby,â he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways heâs been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips.Â
You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.
âThatâs all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?â he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, âIs that what you want?â
âUh-huh,â you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. Heâs testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.
âFuck, baby,â he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands.Â
âFinally got to grab it the way you wanted to?â you tease between breaths.Â
âMhmm,â he groans, âNow I just gotta smack it around.âÂ
You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums.Â
âOoh, you wanna spank me?â you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp.Â
âDo you want me to spank you?â he asks, brows raised inquisitively. Â
âMaybe not tonight,â you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, âMaybe only when Iâve been bad.âÂ
âJusâlemme know,â he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, âSo I can â mmm, shit â teach ya a lesson.âÂ
âNext time,â you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that heâs on top.
âNext time,â he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, âBut since youâre so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?âÂ
âI did beat you at pinball, soâŚâ you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar.Â
âYou did beat me at pinball,â he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesnât know if he can say that to you yet. He doesnât know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it â you arenât Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasnât actually âÂ
âOh!â you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep.Â
âAre you okay?â he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves.Â
âY-yeah thatâs justâŚwhere youâre kissingâŚthatâs a spot for me,â you admit bashfully, unable to look at him.Â
âSweetheart,â he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, âShouldnâtâve told me that.âÂ
A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck.Â
âEddieâŚâ you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He canât help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind.Â
Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it heâs on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddieâs eyes find yours when heâs kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft.Â
He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that heâs found for the first time.Â
âYouâre so soft,â he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too.Â
âThank you,â you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he couldâve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips.Â
âYou nervous?â he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.
âA little,â you giggle.Â
âDonât be nervous, baby,â he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, âJust gonna make you feel good.âÂ
He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, youâd been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth.Â
âOkay, okay,â he laughs, âI wonât tease you, Iâm sorry.âÂ
But heâs lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.
âActually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since itâs so fucknastyâŚâ gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.
âYou said you wouldnât teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,â you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks.Â
âYou like that, sugar?â he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel.Â
You nod feverishly, âDonât stop, please donât stop.âÂ
âMmm, donât stop?â he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit.Â
âPlease,â you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead.Â
âWell youâre asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,â he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, âBut I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.âÂ
âDonât be mean, Ed,â you pout.Â
âOkay, I wonât be mean,â he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. Heâs confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when heâs doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when sheâs getting close, giving it to her over and over again.Â
âOh fuck, Ed â oh my god, baby,â you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him.Â
âI like when you look at me like that,â he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling â snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger.Â
âYouâre so good â fuck â youâre so good at this,â you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue.Â
âThatâs good for you?â he mumbles.Â
âYouâre so good for me,â you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, âJustâŚunhm, just like that.âÂ
He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. Youâre so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you donât like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time?Â
âEarth to EdâŚâ he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, âYou okay? You stopped and sort of justâŚstared for a second.âÂ
âOh my god, Iâm sorry,â he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, âJust got caught up staring at you.âÂ
âEw,â you giggle with a smile, âYou think Iâm pretty or somethinâ?âÂ
Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, âWell I donât wanna be too forwardâŚâÂ
âYouâre literally eating me out, you canât get any more forward,â you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game.Â
âLike I was saying â I donât wanna be too forward, but I think youâre honestly so beautiful,â he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, âAnd I didnât wanna be corny and say it while Iâm like, neck deep in your pussy.â
âThatâs very sweet, baby.â You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. Heâs excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear âem all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning â for likeâŚever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention â but he has a job to finish.Â
âYouâre very sweet,â he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until heâs between your legs again â he doesnât tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you.Â
âEddieâŚâÂ
âYou gonna cum for me?â he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him.Â
âMâso close,â you huff, âThat feels so good, please donât stop. Donâtstopdonâtstop.âÂ
He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch.Â
âOoh, you can really take it, baby,â he encourages, âLook at you takinâ all these fingers.â He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back.Â
âMâgonna cumâŚoh shit â oh fuck Ed Iâm g.. â ohfuck â fuckfuckfuck â mmm-ah!â Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak.Â
âThaaaatâs it,â he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head â exactly what he wanted.
âOhmygodohmygodohmygod,â you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers.Â
âYou okay?â he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you â but he knows your game. He knows youâre gonna lick it off and give him those eyes â so he pulls his wrist away, âOh, no baby.â Â
Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead.Â
âI donât like to waste it, sugar,â he croons, âI can make you something if youâre hungry.âÂ
His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin.Â
âDonât laugh at me,â you pout.Â
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry,â he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate.Â
âWhy donât I go get cleaned up,â he starts, before catching you in another kiss.
âYou should pee since thatâs the smart thing to do before and after,â he presses a kiss to your neck.
âAnd then Iâll take you to bed,â he murmurs huskily, âHowâs that?âÂ
âThatâs really nice,â you rasp back, turning so that youâre nose to nose, âBut I am a little hungry now that you said that.âÂ
âYouâre funny,â he smiles, another kiss, âIâll get us a snack and then Iâll take you to bed, is that better?âÂ
âMuch better.â Â
Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didnât get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks.Â
âDo you like tiramisu?â he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen.Â
âI do. My momâs is the best actually,â you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face.Â
âWill you still eat it if itâs not your momâs?â he asks, offering you the plate.Â
âYes, of course,â you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, âBut first I gotta ââÂ
Eddieâs taken aback by the kiss, but you donât notice. Heâs swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows youâre trying to fuck just as much as he is.Â
âBabyâŚâ he starts, regretfully breaking away, âAre you hungry or not?âÂ
You donât answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn.Â
âShitâŚâ you whisper, shoulders drooping.Â
âWh-what? What is it?â he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.
âIâŚâ you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, âI really fucking like you.âÂ
He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk â because heâs also there, âDoes that make you scared?âÂ
You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder.Â
âItâs okay that youâre scared,â he murmurs, âBut if itâs any consolationâŚâ
âI really fucking like you, too.âÂ
When you kiss again, heâs overwhelmed.Â
âFuck the tiramisu,â you breathe, âLetâs just â.âÂ
âMhm,â he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, âI fucking need you.âÂ
Jingle. Click. Creak.Â
âHONEY, WEâRE HOME!â calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, âPut your clothes on, sluts.âÂ
But itâs not just Steve, itâs the whole party â the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddieâs form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddieâs expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both.
âIâm so sorry,â Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what theyâve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen.Â
âSo hereâs the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Garethâs phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,â she explains to the both of you, âIâm so sorry.âÂ
âItâs seriously okay,â you laugh, âPlease donât feel bad. Itâs you and Garethâs apartment, too.âÂ
âAre you mad at me?â Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second.Â
He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, âNo, no, Iâm not mad at you. Itâs okay.âÂ
âOkay,â she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, âGareâs sorry too, but unfortunately heâs busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.âÂ
Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, âShe means Robin and Steve.âÂ
âI figured,â you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and youâre both alone in the kitchen again.Â
âIâm sorry,â Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him.Â
âWhat, why? Thereâs nothing to be sorry for,â you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipaâs One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steveâs passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit.Â
âEverything got ruined,â he frowns, âIâm like, kind of embarrassed.âÂ
âDonât be embarrassed,â you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, âThereâs always next time. Iâm not goinâ anywhere.âÂ
âNo?â he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, âYouâre stayinâ right here?âÂ
âWell, until I have to go to home,â you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room â Youâre literally my best fucking friend. Youâre my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much.Â
Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you.Â
2K notes
¡
View notes
12:25 A.M.
word count: 1.7k
summary: eddie calls you late one night while heâs looking at your photosâŚ. ;)
cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut smut smut. this entire thing is just filth from the get-go, sorry not sorry. lots of swearing, eddie & reader masturbate over the phone, lots of dirty talking - eddie and reader are bein nastyyyyy, daddy kink on the low, mention of explicit photos/nudes, if I forgot anything lmk!
authorâs note: yeah so uhhhh the eddie sluts discord was having a convo about eddie keeping dirty polaroids of you and thus, this piece of filth was born. iâm so serious thereâs barely a plot this is just nastiness, enjoy!!! also: the photos in the photo set above are not meant to represent what reader looks like - theyâre just aesthetically pleasing.
*Rriiiiiiiing Rriiiiiiing*
The sound of the phone startles you from your half-asleep state. Youâd unintentionally almost fallen asleep sitting up in your bed, television still playing softly in the background. You rub your bleary eyes and turn to the clock as you grab the phone. 12:25am. Who would be calling at this hour?
âHello?â you say into the receiver, voice a little groggy.
âHey, sweets. Iâm sorry for calling so late,â you hear your boyfriendâs voice on the other end.
âEds, hi. Whatâs up, are you alright?â you sit more alert now, wondering why heâs calling you after midnight.
âIâm fine sweet thing, just had a long day at work and I missed you,â his voice sounds breathy, not his usual tone of voice. âI didnât wake you, did I?â
âI had kind of dozed off, but itâs fine. What are you up to over there, baby?â you ask him, curling the phone cord around your fingers.
âOh, yâknow⌠just looking through those sexy Polaroids I took of you. Touching myself a little bit,â you can hear the smirk in his voice, and you feel yourself shudder a little at his words.
Throughout the time youâve been dating Eddie, heâs gathered quite the collection of explicit photos of you. He loves to take pictures of you in all sorts of positions, snapping shots of you naked on his bed, you split wide open on his cock, you sticking your tongue out while he presses his cock to your mouth, one of your face covered in his cum. Youâve even taken some of your own to sneak into his stash, photos of your tits squished together, or your fingers buried deep in your cunt. Eddie loves them, he looks at them all the time. He keeps the safe-for-work photos of you in his wallet and in his car, but the raunchy ones sit in a box under his bed - for his eyes only.
âTouching yourself to little old me, handsome?â you tease him, pulling your lip between your teeth.
âFuck yeah baby, itâs like Iâve got my own personal porn star to look at, how could I resist?â
Your cheeks heat up at his response, and you clench your thighs together involuntarily. You know what he wants, know he needs to get off, so you take the bait.
âMm, wish I was there to touch you instead, Eddie,â you giggle, feeling heat rush to your core at the thought of him spread out in bed, jerking his cock to you.
âShit, baby, you know I love your hands on me,â thereâs a pause, and then, âWhat are you wearing right now, sweets?â
âOne of your t-shirts, you know - the blue and black tie dye one, and a pair of black pantiesâŚ.â you speak slowly, drawing out the words.
âNo bra?â he asks, his voice husky.
âNo bra, baby. In fact, you can see my nipples through the fabric of the shirtâŚ.â you trail off, knowing what youâre doing to him. One of your hands reaches up to toy with your breasts as you speak, as if youâre doing him a favor by touching the parts of you that he canât right now.
âFuuuuuuck, I need my hands on you baby. Wish I was there with you right now,â you can detect the strain in his voice, can faintly hear the schlick schlick of his hand moving up and down his cock.
It only turns you on further, and you slowly slip your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, ghosting circles over your clit. âMmm, Eds, I need you here right now,â your voice is seductive, pleading.
âYeah, baby? What would you have me do if I was there with you?â Eddie purrs.
âIâd have you finger my soaking pussyâŚ. two fingers, maybe three⌠need you to stretch me out,â youâre dipping your own fingers past your entrance as you get the words out, your fingers not reaching even close to the places Eddieâs can reach. âI love when you curl your fingers inside me, you know how to play with me, baby.â
âFuck yeah I do, sweetheart, shit-â Eddie grunts, and you can tell heâs picking up his pace on his cock. âWish I was fingering you, hitting that spot you love, getting those pretty sounds out of you-â
âPlease, baby, love how you touch meâŚâ youâre begging even though heâs not there with you.
âWould you suck my cock for me, baby? Fit my fat cock down your throat, hm?â he continues on, and his words have your head spinning. Imagining his fingers inside you instead of your own as you work to get yourself off. Youâve never engaged in phone sex before this, really, but with Eddie it feels so natural. Itâs a different kind of turn-on to hear him talk to you while you know heâs got his thick fingers around his cock, pretending that itâs you.
âY-yes, daddy. Love having your cock in my mouth, need you to fuck my faceâŚâ youâre practically moaning into the phone, head lolling backwards. âWanna taste you, please Eddie pleaseâŚâ
âThatâs my good fucking girl, need to cum in that pretty mouth of yours, baby. Love when you swallow my load,â his breath is staggered as he speaks through gritted teeth. âAre you touching yourself for me, baby? Got your fingers deep in that pussy?â
âYeah, âm so wet for you, Eds. Doesnât feel as good as when you do it, though,â you pout, pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, the coil in your stomach tightening gradually.
âAw, I know sweet thing. Need daddy to take care of you, yeah?â Eddie knows exactly how to talk to you to send you reeling, your eyes screwing shut as you finger yourself, movements growing sloppier.
âYeah babe, fuck, need you inside me. Want you so bad,â your fingers have set a brutal pace fucking into your dripping cunt, and you're almost positive Eddie can hear how soaked you are as you please yourself.
âGot me rock fucking hard for you, baby, can you hear me stroking my cock to your pretty pictures?â he taunts, but you absolutely can hear the filthy noises in the background - quieting your moans so you can listen better.
Thereâs a beat, and then you hear him spit into his hand, the sloshing sounds picking up speed and intensity as he presumably starts to pump his cock faster. You plunge your fingers as deep as theyâll go inside of you, curling them desperately to hit that delicious soft spot.
âYes, fuck, itâs so fucking hot listening to you touch yourself for me,â youâre breathing heavy as you work yourself to orgasm, âWish my fingers were wrapped around your dick right now.â
âMmmhhh, I love when you wrap those delicate little hands around me, baby. Iâm so big they barely hold me, princess,â heâs smirking as he speaks, loves riling you up thinking about the size of him.
âYeah, Eds, youâre sâfucking big. Love how you fill me up, daddy,â he revels in the praise, and you hear him chuckle on the other end.
âMy little cockslut, loves getting stretched by me, hm?â Eddieâs voice is low, sending electricity right to your core. âShit, baby, my cockâs twitching just thinking about you⌠âM so worked up.â
âWant you to cum for me, Eds. Are you close? Love it when you cum for me,â youâre whining, fingers now circling your clit in rapid movements, getting closer and closer to your release.
âSo close, sweetheart, wish I could cum all over that pretty face of yours,â Eddie moans into the speaker, little whispers of shitshitshit falling from his lips. âThis pictureâs one of my favorites, baby⌠my cock buried deep in your pussy from behind⌠my hand gripping your hair. Pretty ass of yours on perfect display fâme, fuck-â heâs tugging desperately on his cock at this point, whimpering into the phone.
âWhat about the one with me in handcuffs? Legs spread on your bed, waiting for you?â you hum, egging him on, getting him right to the edge of release as you describe the lewd photo.
Eddie doesnât answer, just lets out a strangled moan on the other end of the line. The two of you go on like that for a little, mewls slipping past your lips, getting wetter as you listen to him cursing, panting, moaning your name. The soft pads of your fingers work on your clit, your insides feeling like theyâre on fire with how worked up you are. Your eyes are shut tight, imagining Eddie settling you on his lap as he fucks up into you.
âBaby - fuck - Iâm gonna fucking cum, shit,â Eddie whines, bringing you back to reality for a moment.
âCum for me, baby, make a mess of yourself for me,â you coax him, listening closely to hear the way his breath hitches as he finally lets go.
His moans are short and sporadic as he finishes all over his chest and stomach, and you continue to rub your swollen clit as he catches his breath.
âHow you doing over there? Gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Gonna cum while you think about me? Bet you wish I was filling you up real good, huh?â Eddieâs relentless, talking you through the entire thing.
âYes, daddy - fuck! Gonna cum, gonna cum for you, oh my godâŚâ the coil in your stomach snaps finally, feeling yourself plummet into bliss. Youâre clenching around nothing, moaning âEddieEddieEddieâ as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure coursing through you.
âThatâs my good girl, you okay sweet thing?â Eddie coos, listening to you pant as your body calms down.
âYeah, baby, Iâm good. Howâre you?â you say softly into the phone once youâve regained some composure, body spent as you lay back onto your pillows. You feel like youâre floating.
âI made a fuckinâ mess of myself, sweetheart, came so hard,â Eddie huffs a laugh, and you smile.
âHey, Eds?â
âYeah, sweets?â
âTake a Polaroid of you all messy with your cum. Wanna start a photo collection of my own,â you chew at your lip, getting flustered thinking about how he must look right now.
âOh, yeah? And why do you want my photos, sweetheart? Wanna get yourself off to them?â Eddie asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from you.
âMaybeâŚ.â you giggle, suddenly feeling shy.
âFuck, baby. Can I come stay the night? I need to be inside you right now, no way I can wait till tomorrow,â you can picture the puppy dog eyes Eddie would be giving you if he was next to you right now, and you laugh.
âYeah, Eds, get over here. Gotta live up to all that talk,â you reply, knowing heâs gonna live up to that talk and then some.
âWant me to bring the camera?â he asks.
âDuh.â
3K notes
¡
View notes
â only if for a night
din djarin x f!reader
Rated E - 6.5k
Tags: spoilers for 03.01, neighbor!din, established past encounter, flirting / mutual yearning, hot springs makeout, soft dom!din, outercourse, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, PiV
A/N: based on that little line from s03.01 about the hot springs. Many liberties taken with the creed.
When it appears the droid repair will take longer than expected, Din find himself taking Karga up on the offer for the parcel of land.
And when you go to give your new neighbor a warm welcome - you never imagine that it would be the very man you havenât been to stop thinking about.
Heâd never been all that great at saying no.
It was easy when he was on the job - dealing with strangers. Questions rarely came when the saw him as just a symbol. Something to be feared.
A Mandalorian.
When it was a friend⌠well, that was a different story. Somehow, Karga had gotten under his skin. Twisting words around until he found himself agreeing to that parcel of land, out by the flats.
His stay was only temporary. That, he made sure of to mention. More than once, each time more firmly.
âAh, but you always come back.â Karga had smiled, while they overlooked the city, âI know you have your business to attend to.â
Glancing down at Grogu, still spinning in the chair, âBut wouldnât it be nice to have a home to return to? To know you have a place, here?â
âIâll think about it.â He had hedged, hands braced on his hips.
Somewhere along their walk later - their path had changed. Through the center of town, past the now deconstructed monument.
Before he knew it, he was in the middle of the tidy hut - Grogu wandering through the back door and into the sizable yard, as he found himself signing the deed.
âWeâll worry about the details later.â Karga had winked - and then he was gone.
Leaving Din alone, in his new space. Half-exasperated as he checks through the rooms.
A living space that flows into a small kitchen. Smoothed stone walls, a hallway that leads to a bathroom, with a full-sized sonic. The sharp right curve as the building continues back - a master bedroom taking up the last third of the L-shaped unit.
It might be nice to have a private place to sleep for a few days, while he waited for IG-11 to be repaired. His legs and back aching from sleeping in the starfighter.
And heâs never loved inns. Never trusted them completely - not even on Nevarro.
A small head peeks around the doorway, as he stands in the middle of the bedroom. The cotton curtains fluttering with the breeze, a view of the hot springs and the thick line of trees visible from the open window.
âWhat do you think, kid?â He finds himself asking.
Grogu coos happily, and his lips curve underneath his helmet.
âYeah.â He hums. âI think so, too.â
âââ
âFinally sold that place, next to yours.â
You frown, glancing up from your datapad. Feet kicked up on the desk in your office, catching up on comms.
The news is unexpected, you hadnât known anyone was looking at the property. Karga hadnât pressed for you to put out any advertisements in the past couple weeks. Acted like heâs been saving it - but for what, you didnât know.
âWould say Iâm glad, but I was getting used to the private hot springs access.â You smile, removing your feet, pushing yourself up to greet him, âYou need me to get the paperwork together?â
âNo need, I handled it.â
That makes your eyebrow raise. Karga had certainly done a lot for Nevarro. The green trees outside - the expansion of the city - was more than enough proof.
But you had never seen him handle any of the minute details. Never had been his style.
No, that was your job.
âIâd like you to stop by though.â He says, fingers stroking the white bristles of his beard, âMake sure heâs doing alright. Explain about the expansions, I didnât get a chance to cover that part.â
âSure thing.â You nod, already collecting your things, âYou know I would anyways, since heâs my neighbor and all.â
But Kargaâs focus on this new buyer nudges at your attention - a beat passing, before you add, âIs it someone high profile? Should I know them?â
His answering look is knowing. And cryptic, as only he can be, âSomething like that.â
Leaving your office with an amused smile - and you more curious than ever.
âââ
Your fist raps twice on the closed blast door. A hand smoothing down the front of your tunic, wrinkled with your brisk walk over from the office. The basket tucked under your arm, filled to the brim with goodies hand-picked from "the stash".
A crate stored in one of Karga's many rooms, filled with gifts from shops in town, potential business partners, visiting travellers.
Anything expensive he accepted for himself - the rest you collect, with the dual purpose of handling it for him, and finding a use for the item.
Creating welcome kits for all those who are new to the city, things to make their houses feel more like homes. Blankets to fend off the evening chill. Vouchers for a warm meal at the local cantina. Dried meats and fruits - trinkets for the children if there are any.
Fingers crossed that your new neighbor is someone nice. Not like that Weequay you had roomed next to when you had lived downtown - keeping you up late with their band practice. Chords loudly strum on their hallisket, somehow always off-key. Overly rude, whenever you had gently tried to bring it up.
Back then, you woke with the dawn, due down at the new school just after daybreak. Rough did not even begin to cover it.
Moving out here, the change in your duties, had been nice. Certainly a walk every morning, but the privacy was well appreciated.
Quiet nights after spending the day keeping up with the whirlwind that was Greef Karga. Soaking away the stress in the small clusters of hot springs that make their way along the flats.
No one answers, so you inch around the side of the building to check the back. One of the many bonuses about being this far out - the large yards and extra space. Past the narrow landing pad - the shining chrome ship that rests on it.
Your nose wrinkles at the sleek lines, the overall ostentation.
Stars, if it's another 'Karga'...
Pushing the thought aside as you call out, ahead, "Hello! Anyone home?"
"Back here." A voice replies, sounding muffled.
Youâre rounding the corner of the hut, when you freeze. Only the vice-like grip on the handle keeping the basket from tumbling across the stone patio.
Because you do know him.
Intimately.
Though itâs been a while. Over a year, maybe two?
But there was no mistaking the shine of his silver armor. The little friend thatâs still by his side.
âOh.â You greet him, intelligently.
His helmet turns at your voice, his own form going still for a long moment. The child lets out a coo, his small head turning as he leans over the edge of the water, splashing the surface.
âHi. Karga sent me over. I mean, I would have come anyways.â You clear your throat as you find your voice - hiking a thumb over your shoulder, âSeeing as weâre neighbors, and all.â
âNeighbors.â He repeats, his voice a low monotone.
Itâs so strange to hear it again.
Youâd spent ages thinking about it. About that night. It wasnât supposed to be anything more than blowing off steam.
Back then, you had still worked at the school. Filling in as the teaching droid became accustomed to the class - still developing the emotional intelligence part of its AI.
You had been an aide, making sure things ran smoothly. And it had, until those few days that the Child had been in attendance.
It still makes you smile to remember the bits of blue cookie smeared on his face.
Thatâs when you had met the Mandalorian, picking up his child. And then running into him again, later at the cantina.
Ending up in his ship, even later after that. Staying longer than you meant to, until the indigo sky was streaked with pink and grey.
You still think about the cold bite of his armor against your bare skin. The low rasp of his voice, lips forming around rough words of praise that had burrowed into your brain.
Just one night, but it had stayed in your memory for the hundreds that came after.
âUh, yes.â You snap back to reality, as you jiggle the basket. Walking over, because it was too late to flee - setting it down on the low stone table.
Your face heats - you're not sure how to word this. Unsure if it was more awkward to get out with it, or pretend like this was the first time youâve met.
After a moment, you make your decision. Better to just be honest.
Your hand extends, as you give him your name. A small cringe of a smile, as you hedge, "I don't know if you remember-"
His answer cuts you off, as his hand takes yours, "I do."
Oh.
The vocoder makes it impossible to tell the exact tone of his response. If it was a good memory, or if he was disappointed in this strange reunion.
Youâre saved from the awkwardness of not knowing, when the child toddles over. A wide grin spreads over your face, plucking a treat out of the basket.
âJust look at you!â Sinking to your knees - you glance up, before handing the piece of candy over, âIs this okay?â
The Mandalorianâs head dips in a nod, a heat in your cheeks as you turn back. Placing it into the little outstretched hands, as you marvel.
âYouâve really grown!â
His ears wiggle, the peek of his teeth as he smiles.
Not bigger, but certainly more confident. A sweetness shining, more certain of the steps he takes. A tightness in your chest, as he shows it to Mando - clutched tight in his fist.
âThatâs right.â He replies patiently, âTell her âthank youâ, Grogu.â
Grogu makes a sound that could pass as a thanks, making his way to the rock border of the small garden.
Leaving you looking up at the Mandalorian. The angle doing something to you - all that shining armor. You on your knees.
His head, still tilting down. Cocked, your way.
But then, youâre remembering why youâre there. Pushing yourself to your feet, burning with embarrassment.
âUh, right. The details.â You rush, turning away. Back towards the border of the property, your finger pointing, âThe hot springs runs through your back yard and mine. Some huts are lucky enough to have their own.â
A shrug, as you turn back, âBut most have to share. Itâs great this time of year, it gets chilly at night. Heâll love it.â
Your head tilts towards Grogu, still munching away. Mando nods, slowly walking over to stand beside you, looking out at the natural springs. The thick trees above, making a sort of barrier to the huts behind it.
âOh, and your house.â
The last detail.
âTheyâre built so you can add on. Itâs a good size for one right now. But if you need more space thereâs room on the sides, or add another floor.â You gesture to the spots, so he can picture the expansion.
âShould be pretty easy. You would just tell me or Karga, and thereâs a couple droids that have it down to a science.â
His head tilting to look where you point. A beat, before he asks, âHave you added onto yours?â
Your eyes meet his visor, surprised.
Lips pressing together as you think about it, your head shaking. Smiling sheepishly.
âNo. Like I said⌠itâs uh, good for one.â
He hums at that, but doesnât ask anything else. Nor does he look away, his hands resting on his hips.
A dozen questions on the tip of your tongue. Holding them back because youâre not sure how to ask them. Not wanting the answer to be different from what youâre hoping.
So instead, you just smile.
âThe last step is usually a tour, but Iâm sure we can skip that part. Wouldnât want to take up any more of your time.â
Thereâs a beat, while he seems to think about it. A hesitance, before he nods.
âRight. Thank you, we should be fine.â
Almost a reluctance.
But youâre certain youâre imagining it.
âââ
Itâs lucky that he didnât take you up on the tour. You barely make the walk back to your house before your comm is beeping - an emergency that has you running back into town.
A no-show from a contractor, for a job that needed to be done today. The afternoon is spent with your sleeves rolled up, helping out yourself, the work bleeding into the evening.
The morning becoming a blur, as you drag yourself home. Just thinking about sinking into the springs for a couple minutes, resting your aching feet.
Grabbing a ration bar as you change into one of your suits, your robe and a towel thrown over your shoulder. Leaving the door open, letting the cool night air into your house as you head towards the back.
Your things dumped on a low wooden bench, as you stretch - arms high above you head. A low, throaty groan as you step into the hot water, finding your favorite nook to rest in.
Itâs only then, in the water with the skies above, that you think about the Mandalorian. A thrill at seeing him again, even if it didnât go anywhere.
With his line of work, you canât pretend you werenât worried. Hadnât been thinking about him, hoping he and his son were alright.
Hoping for other things, as well.
When your eyes finally open - you freeze.
The object of your affections sitting a few yards away from you, supplies spread out on the stone table. In the middle of cleaning a long rifle, a piece of cloth in his hands.
Seemingly frozen as well, his helmet tipped your way. The moment stretching out, until youâre letting out a little âohâ, dipping down into the water.
âSorry,â You give him a little wave - unsure what else to do, âDidnât see you out here.â
Moving closer to the edge, your hands bracing on the raised lip, âI can go. Long day, just needed a minute.â
âNo.â He shifts then, a gloved hand going flat, âPlease, stay.â
Youâre pleased. To continue soaking, and to continue taking him in. Your chin resting on the curl of your fingers, watching him work.
Itâs quiet - the rustle of the leaves above. A chirp of the crickets, the summer days starting to tip into autumn.
âWhat happened today?â Mando asks you, your head lifting.
Frowning - the question loaded. Did he mean earlier? Like, when you first rounded the corner into his backyard?
He takes pity on you, âYou said today was long.â
âMmm.â You sigh, now understanding. Biting back a smile, pleased that heâs asking about you, âI guess it wasnât too bad. Just putting out a few fires for Karga.â
He hums, like he understands your implication.
But then, youâre remembering that heâs friends with him. Your nose crinkles, âNot that I am complaining. Heâs done a lot for this city, weâre all grateful.â
âYou can be honest with me.â His tone sounds amused, and you relax.
The tools set down, as he moves closer. The slow creak of his armor, the overhead lights glinting as he lower himself to one of the chairs that rest close to the edge.
Close enough that he could step into the water, the steam that rises up in the chilly evening air. His helmet tipping down to where you sit.
Your eyebrow lifts, âYou thinking about coming in? I can close my eyes for you.â
Remembering what he said, before. The reason why he stayed wrapped in his armor, his helmet always firmly fixed in place.
His head tilts, considering. A long moment - as you hope - before he answers.
âNot tonight.â
The disappointment pools in your belly - but you move on quickly as he asks, âHow long have you been working for him? I didnât see you at the school.â
He had looked. That moment when he walked through town - later, when they ran into the pirates. A worry, fueling him to act when they had threatened to take that drink in the renovated building, where the old saloon used to dwell.
The disappointment melts into fondness, âA while. Close to a year? Itâs fun, he can just be a lot, you know?â
He makes a sound of agreement, knowing full well.
âVery convincing and influential. I find myself doing all kinds of stuff just because he asks,â You laugh, your chin cupped in your hand, âHeâs got his eyes on some big prizes. High Magistrate. Mining and trade routes.â
Your gaze drifts, going far away, âItâs great for the city. The expansion, all the money coming in. He loves it. The job, the finery of it all. But, personally⌠Iâm not sure itâs what I want.â
The words trail off, as you get lost.
âWhat do you want?â His voice brings you back.
You blink, looking up at him, âI just want a place to call my own. Something just for me.â
Head tilting towards you little hut, as you start to feel a little self-conscious, âIâm sure that sounds stupid.â
His helmet stays focused on you, as he answers.
âNo. I think I understand.â
âââ
When it came to this hut, he had floundered. Finding himself agreeing, even though he knew heâd be gone again in days. Now, thereâs a question that lingers. Heavy on his mind and heart as the hours bleed into the next.
But this time, he knows what he wants. When the question comes, heâll have the answer.
The next evening, heâs waiting for you.
Surprising you, seeing him in just the flightsuit, as you exit your hut. Pausing mid-step when you see how he lingers. Self-conscious now, in his own way.
Your question comes, again.
âYou coming in?â
This time, he nods. Fingers lingering at the zipper on his chest - the anticipation curling in your stomach as you watch.
His hands going still. Wanting this, but the sting of his betrayal to the creed is still a fresh, aching wound. Letting someone see his face. Even though it was the only way.
You head inclines towards a spot in the back of the springs. Where the trees are thick, blocking out the twinkling stars above.
âI can wait there.â You tell him, âI wonât look.â
Itâs the last assurance he needs.
He nods.
Making you way to the back, sinking down into the springs. Nervous and excited and thrilled, as you find the spot - where he joins you soon after.
Helmet still on, you can hear the buzz of his groan as the hot water hits his skin. Easing the aches in his back, from the hours of flying.
Itâs a little narrow for two, but you fit together - facing each other, under the trees. Where the night and the shadow of the branches weave together - until you can only see the soft, loose outline of his shape.
You canât believe he got in. Fingers itching to reach out and touch - but you hold back. Still not knowing how he feels, if he wants the same thing as you.
Instead, you fill the silence with soft questions. About him this time - where heâs been, whatâs happened since you last saw him.
Some of the tension easing.
And slowly, he tells you. How they became separated. How he had gotten him back, only for the reunion to be cut short. Never saying how the absence effected him - but after seeing their bond today, you knew it had to be hard.
Finally, about their reunion.
With each story, each confession - you find yourselves moving closer. Inching along the natural stone seating until the feet of space dwindle down to mere inches between you.
You wonder if he can hear your heart. The way it thuds in your chest, as his knee brushes yours.
Itâs quiet now, other than the ripple of water as your leg stretches out - foot resting on the outcropping of rock he sits on.
"I'm not staying long. Just a few days." The rasp of his voice breaks the silence. His leg brushes yours again.
A soft warning. Letting you know that this would be like last time.
But itâs not the same. Not really.
Your lips press together - the peek of your tongue as you wet them, "You'll be back. You just bought a house here."
"Yes.â He acknowledges, âBut I don't know when-â
âI donât mindâ. Your own confession comes easily, in the dark. Leg shifting until your foot taps against his thigh, against bare skin, "Stop overthinking things. When was the last time you had some fun?"
Thereâs a low breath at your question, a buzz through his vocoder.
"Not since I last saw you."
You know he doesn't mean yesterday. The tickle in your stomach turns into full-on butterflies as your fingers drift - bridging the small gap between you. Finding his on the stone.
Fingertips dragging across knuckles, the back of his hand. Against smooth, bare skin. Before he moves - his hand curling around your wrist, tugging you forward.
A startled yelp as he hauls you into his lap, your thighs bracketing his - shins pressing into the bench beneath you.
Hands steadying themselves on his broad shoulders. His own slowly sliding over your thighs, up to your hips. Fingers kneading soft flesh as you shift, fitting yourself snug against him.
Feeling him.
The clothed, thick curve thatâs pressing against your core. A soft sound in your throat as you rock your hips unconsciously against his cock, finally putting pressure on the spot that has been aching for him.
âMaybe you can remind me how.â He rasps, his own hips tilting up, grinding.
Your laugh is strangled as you meet him. Relief in many more ways than one as you brace your hands on his shoulders. Moving more purposely this time as you roll your hips.
Finding the spot that makes you shudder, nails sinking into his skin. His own hands grasping at you, the sharp hiss of breath through his helmet.
Itâs too dark to see more than outlines, but you still find his visor. Trying to imagine where his eyes would be, before yours drop down - admiring the rare glimpse of his neck.
His shoulders, broad and strong. Fingers touching features you canât make out - the coarse, peppered-grey curls on his chest. Decades of scars, each with a story. His form slightly softened by age, but still moving you effortlessly.
The grip on your hips loosen, a hand drifting up. Leaving droplets of water on your skin as his fingers skim your waist, then higher.
A knuckle brushing your breast, over the top of your suit. Teasing at the edge.
âGods, yes.â You sigh, leaning back to give him room.
To watch him tug the cloth to the side, then down. Baring a breast, and then the other. Fingers dipping down to the water, dragging a wet thumb over the pebbled peak.
Youâre clenching, your pace picking up. Leaning into his touch, grinding your pussy against him.
That low voice of his, encouraging you, âKeep riding me, meshâla. Fuck, just like that.â
It makes you shudder. Pleasure coils in your head, the build-up making your thoughts hazy. So close to what you need, but not quite enough.
A frustrated whine slides through your teeth, your eyes lifting to his. A hand letting go to dip down, between your thighs - but he catches it with his own.
Bringing it back up to his shoulder, before his dips below the waistband. To where youâre wet, slick with arousal. Whimpering when his fingers circle your clit, making you mindless. Prone to babble, the words hushed in the quiet night.
âStars, I missed you. Feel just as good as I remember.â
A beat, where his fingers linger. Just for a second, before heâs shifting beneath you - increasing the sweet pressure.
âYou thought about this?â
Your eyelids flutter closed, your chest crushed against his. Feeling the slick slide of his fingers, exactly the touch you needed.
âMhm. All the time.â The confession come easy, drunk as you are on pleasure, âHow hard you made me come, how fucking good you are with your fingers.â
The praise sinks into his skin, smoothing over the thin cracks of insecurity. He had thought of you, too. Often.
Fucking his fist to the memory, so like the way your hand worked between your own thighs at night.
Just a night but it had felt like so much more. A connection.
He has you close. It almost feels like time is ticking down, each press of his fingers bringing you towards the end. An arm wraps around you, pinning you against him as you gasp.
More praise falling, just for him.
âOh, youâre going to make me come. Just like that, please-â
His breath harsh as he concentrates, as your face buried into his neck. Muffling your cry as youâre brought over that edge, going stiff in his arms.
Gasping against his skin, as he coos in your ear. The words muted through the haze, buzzing against your skin. Finding bliss, in this dark corner of the springs.
A long moment of silence, as you find your limbs again.
âDid you mean what you said?â He asks, as your cheek presses against his helmet.
Cool against your hot skin, a soft sigh as you relax against him. Embarrassed, now your head is a little more clear, âWhat, that I fantasized about you?â
Mando makes a sound, a low laugh, âWhen you said youâd close your eyes. Did you mean that?â
Your head tilts back, so you can see him. Where his face would be, your palms skimming down his arms, âYeah, I meant that.â
He stands then, taking you with him - your legs still hooked around his waist. Walking you to the side of the springs before your feet touch down, fingers curling around your wrist - tugging them up until your hand covers your eyes.
âIs your house the same as mine?â
Helping you out of the pool as you answer, his hand around your other wrist, âMirrored.â
Guiding you to the back door, taking a second in the dark to wipe you both down with the towels you left.
Before heâs pulling you deeper, through the kitchen. Back to your bedroom. Itâs still dark when your back is pressing against the matress, his hips between your thighs.
The light is low here. A string of ambient bulbs twinkling above your bed, casting the room in a soft glow. He pauses, as you shift below him.
Looking debauched, where you lay against the mattress. Bare legs, you core just covered by the cloth bottoms. The peek of flushed, tight nipples where he has tugged your top aside.
Practically begging for his mouth, the brush of his tongue.
He had been planning to take you in the darkness. Now, he canât bear the thought of not being able to watch you fall apart with his own eyes.
âCan I blindfold you?â He husks, fingers trailing up your thighs.
You donât know why heâs asking, but you agree, âSure. If thatâs what you want.â
âYes.â The tips changing course, tracing the cut of your swimsuit, along the inside of your thigh, âDo you have something I could use?â
Already, the lack of sight has you on edge in the best way - your legs inching further apart. The hand not covering your eyes reaching up - searching beneath the nest of pillows.
Fingers catching on the elastic of the sleeping mask, as you tug it down. Another gift that Karga had discarded, one that found its way into your pocket, along with the matching silk robe, the jar of bath oils.
He helps you fit it into place, his thumb smoothing over your cheek - as your sight dissolves into true darkness.
Gasping, as he tugs at the ties of your top - baring you. A pneumatic hiss that you donât recognize - ears straining as something heavy is set down on the side table.
The wet swipe of a tongue against the curve of your breast, flattening over your nipple. Wrapping around to suck, teeth just barely scraping the sensitive bud.
âFuck.â You hiss, reaching for him. Grasping strong shoulders that hover over you, as his knuckles trap the other, gently pinching.
His helmet. He took it off, for you.
The weight of his actions crash into you, a tightness in your chest that has you gasping. His groan sounding pretty as presses an open-mouth kiss against your sternum, the sound unfiltered.
Another, as he moves down.
âWanted to fuck you in the hot springs,â Fingers catch on the waistband of your suit bottoms, your hips lifting as he pulls them down, âTug these off of you, just like this. Would you have let me?â
You moan, unable to help it - your answer eager, âYes. Anything you want.â
He hums in approval - broad hands nudging under your thighs, another tug as he pulls you towards the edge of your bed.
Even with the mask your eyes close, a thrill of excitement as you wait for the press of his cock. Aching for him to fill you, your mind taking you back to last time.
How he had sunk into you. The sweet stretch until the cool armor on his thighs pressed against your skin from behind.
âBut thereâs something else I wanted more.â His voice breaks into your thoughts, bringing you back.
And itâs not his cock that kisses your cunt. Itâs his lips, pressed against the slick, swollen flesh. Your hips flex as you whimper, his hand sliding to press against your stomach.
Pinning you down, as he groans against your pussy. Tongue pointing to flick against your clit before he pulls back. The scratch of facial hair against your thigh as he presses a kiss there.
âThought about you, too. Dreamed about tasting your sweet little cunt. Making you come on my tongue.â
His mouth following his words, warm where the rest against your skin. Taking his time as he spreads you open with his fingers. Tongue tracing from the tight bud of your clit, down.
Pressing the tip into you. Tasting your release, your slick arousal, as you reach for him. Fingers sinking into soft curls - another realization, another small detail about him that you tuck inside your heart.
You tug on them as he sighs against you, fucking you with his tongue. Slipping back up to wrap his lips around your clit and suck, while his fingers nudge at you.
Sinking the tip of one inside, teasing. Knuckles deep in your greedy cunt - first one, and then another. A low hum against your slit as you whine. Fingers crooking against the spongey spot that had you keening last time.
The combination is too much. Senses heightened to an extreme - each messy flick and press of his tongue sending sparks down your spine to collect and pool low in your belly.
Hearing each and every groan he makes, the rough timbre of his voice. Your own moans joining his, twisting around each other like your fingers in his curls.
The words panted out, achingly desperate.
âOh, fuck-â
âPlease, right there-â
Each breath shorter than the last. Your hands scrambling, leaving his locks to grip onto the pillow, as your hips flex against his mouth.
His fingers pounding steadily against a spot that makes you see stars. Chin and lips smeared with your slick as he coaxes you over the edge.
âOsik. I can feel you clenching around my fingers, meshâla.â He groans, eyes fixed on where you take him, the silky shine of his fingers.
Flicking up to your face - wanting to watch you fall apart for him with his own eyes, âWant you to come for me, want to feel you gush on my fingers.â
And with a gasp, you do.
Your senses fading to a buzzing, white noise as your hips lift off the bed. Coming hard, pulsing around thick fingers as he watches, tilting his head to press his tongue against your clit. Feeling you there, each little thud where heâs pressed flat against you.
Leaving you gasping, loose-limbed. The sound turning warm and happy with the elation that spreads, settling over your limbs.
His hand swipes across his chin, as he pushes himself up. Arms wrapping under your thighs again, scooting you back onto the bed.
Achingly hard as he peels off the bottoms he still wears. Slick-stained fingers wrapping around his cock, the rough groan of relief as he jerks from base to flushed tip.
More than pleased by the way he has you smiling. Contented and floating, just from his fingers - the inexperienced swipe of his tongue.
Heâd learn, for you. Let your fingers twist in his hair, tug him to the right spot until itâs all that he knows.
For now, he soaks you in. His knees pressing into the bed, hoisting your thighs over them. Angling his cock down, to tap against your pussy - a string of your slick clinging to the tip.
âFuck, just look at you.â
Feeling itâs wet heat, the way youâre arching into him already. Eyes greedy as he presses into you, watching the tip sink in.
How the tight grip of your cunt chokes him - inching in further, before heâs retreating. Pulling back, sliding the soaked tip across your folds again.
Your teeth grit, your hands searching for him. Curling around his wrists, as his hands hold your hips in place.
âMando, please. Donât tease me.â
He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth. Tonight, youâre his. Days of uncertainty - wondering if you had thought of him the way he did of you, culminating in this moment of desire that burns through him.
Not wanting to hear the name that follows him like a shadow.
âDin.â He grits out. Something tight in his chest loosening, âMy name. Itâs Din Djarin.â
Your lips wrap around the gift, making him throb when you parrot it back to him. That need making itself known, as he sinks into you again.
âWant you to stay it when you come.â His hands yank your hips, as his snap forward. Seating himself fully as you moan - as he buries his cock in you.
Dinâs voice sounding tight, as he adds, âYou got that?â
âYes, Din.â You sigh dreamily, clenching around him as he moans.
Letting him set a rhythm that starts slow - lets you feel each inch as he drags himself out, before snapping in. Picking up as you cling to him, shifting until your legs are wrapping around his waist.
Hovering over you, tucking you beneath him as his hips snap against yours. Your hands wandering - sliding across his shoulders. Thumbs sweeping over the hollow of his throat, down through the coarse hair across his chest.
So much skin, bared for you to touch. You want to know every inch. Wish you could see - but youâre not that greedy. Happy to take this reunion for every ounce that it was.
But he leans into it. The warmth of your hand, the way your thighs wrap around him. That stiff hold of his shoulder and back loosening, as he lowers himself further.
Unable to resist the urge to see what itâs like. To press his lips against your cheek, feeling the bite of your fingernails when you sigh in surprise.
The whimper as he moves closer to your mouth, until his lips are ghosting over yours. Your head tilting up to chase him in the dark.
His name, once again.
âDin.â
Thereâs a snarl that rises in this chest. Muffled by the time it reaches to his throat, as his lips finally press against yours.
Starting slow, like the rut of his hips. Just a soft brush, before he draws back for a breath. Coming back for another, as you sigh and arch into him. Lips parting as his tongue brushes the seam, his hand slipping up to cup the back of your head.
He tastes like you. The sweet tang of your pussy on his tongue. Delving into your mouth as he fucks you, as you can do little more than just cling to him.
Soft moans and the needy press of your mouths layering with the wet sound of your joining. The angle stroking his cock against the spot that his fingers found, stealing your thoughts.
Not even realizing itâs your own voice, the panting âplease, please-â. Each breath after a soft âohâ that gets sharper, higher, with each gasp.
âFuck, thatâs it.â The voice in your ear sends a thrill down your spine. Joining that familiar fire that pools in your belly, âYouâre taking me so well. Are you going to come for me again?â
His lips press against your throat, where your heart flutters. Feeling the bitten-back whine, as your legs clench around him.
Bracing yourself for the pleasure thatâs about to tear through you, the spark that starts down low before it races down your limbs.
âGive me one more, cyarâika.â He rasps, and you canât help but obey.
That strung-tight string snaps. His name a sob on your lips as the orgasm crashes over you. A pleased hum against your skin as his thrusts snap harder - the rhythm sloppy as you tremble in his embrace.
Dinâs breath is hot against your neck, his forehead pressed to your cheek. Feeling the tight clench of your wet cunt around his cock - his fingers biting into your hip as he seeks his own end.
âWhere do you want me?â He grits out, âIâm not going to last, feel so good-â
Your legs tighten around his hips, pushing him deeper. Fingers lacing around his neck, the tip of one finding his curls again.
âCome in me.â You beg - hearing his rough groan at your words, âStill have the implant.â
âFuck.â
He had felt it, last time. You had guided his fingers to the ridge beneath your skin, in that moment where you waited with baited breath for his cock to fill you.
Emptying himself the first time from behind, bent over some crates in the hull. The second, hours later. On your back, like this - but he had been armored then, your bare skin reflecting off the beskar as he stood between your thighs.
But now, your limbs are tangled. The heel of a foot pressed against his ass, his body rolling against yours. The messy press of his mouth against your skin.
A hiss, as he inhales.
Hands gripping onto you, as that breath is released in a rough groan, your own name on his lips. A sharp thrust as he buries himself deep, a shallow rock of his hips with each flex of his cock as he spills into you. The warmth flooding your walls, as he moves until youâve taken all of him.
Until the aching, burning need is extinguished - as he relaxes like you did. Your nails scratching up his back and into his hair, a rumble of contentment as he shifts onto his side, and then back, pulling you with him.
Reaching down with one hand to pull the plug of the lights from the wall, blanketing the room in darkness. Fingers gentle as he lifts the mask. The brush of his lips against your eyelids.
Your cheek pressing against his chest, as his fingers trace patterns on your skin.
âIâm really happy I got to see you.â You yawn - blissfully limp, as you curl against him, âEven if you have to go.â
Sighing, as you arm drapes across his waist, âIâll keep an eye on things until you come home.â
Home.
He can't pretend he hasn't already thought about it. What you had told him earlier, about these huts.
How the structures could change, evolve.
Spanning the space between your properties - expanding the walls and connecting hallways until the two houses become one. Truly a haven, a place where he could see himself growing old.
Not now, but... maybe someday.
Once this final quest was completed. Once he was redeemed. A true Mandalorian, once more.
But, that would be some time away. He has no idea what he will find on Mandalore. How long it will take to find Sundari, uncover the mines. It was no use to dwell on that future, when everything was uncertain.
So, instead⌠he finds himself silently hoping that the Anzellans will take just a little while longer.
Thanks for reading! Would love to know what you think đ
meshâla - beautiful / osik - shit / cyarâika - sweetheart
2K notes
¡
View notes
đ
đđđđđ
Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: Wayne didn't trust you, until one night.
Warnings: angst, fluff, nightmares, me writing wayne in an awful way :(
Wayne Munson just wanted to protect his boy. And that's why he was so reluctant towards you.
It wasn't that he didn't like you, it was that he didn't trust you: after all the years Eddie had spent almost alone in school, you came in the picture. You, saying you cared about him, saying you were interested in the music he listened to and the books he read, saying you loved him.
It all seemed too perfect and Wayne just knew there was something wrong.
Not because he was a bad person, Wayne absolutely wasn't, but because he was afraid you were playing with Eddie's feelings. He was afraid that one day you'd laugh in his face and tell him there was no way a girl like you could ever love someone like him. An outcast. A cult-leader. A freak.
The worst part was that Eddie, on the other hand, was really in love with you. He could see it by the way he talked about you when you weren't around, by his loving gaze when you visited him at the trailer, by the smile that appeared on his lips whenever he mentioned you in a conversation.
Wayne was afraid Eddie would suffer when you left him.
Because he knew you would. It was just a matter of time.
After what had happened in the upside down, after Eddie had almost died (because yes, he knew the whole truth even if he had a hard time believing it at first) he often woke up due to nightmares.
Often he heard the bed creak as if Eddie was tossing and turning in pain, sometimes he heard him talking but never understood what exactly he was saying. He was probably calling your name, the name of girl he was in love with, poor naive boy.
Once, he opened the door to his room slightly, slowly and asked if everything was all right, watching the figure curled up on the bed, his legs drawn up to his chest in a defensive position.
Even in the dark he could clearly see that Eddie was shaking.
It was pretty obvious that no, he wasn't all right. He was far from it.
Eddie told him to go away, that he was fine. Wayne pressed for a while but Eddie didn't seem to want to talk to him. Finally he closed the door and went back to his room, hoping that giving him the space he wanted would help.
He wasn't sure if it had really helped him when he started hearing muffled sobs coming from his room.
He really didn't know what to do. Eddie should have talked to someone about it, vented in some way but he didn't seem to want to do it with him.
He didn't seem to want to talk about it even with you, his "girlfriend". Wayne had expected this too: You wouldn't be there for his boy when he needed it.
After that night, Eddie had locked the door to his room, so even if Wayne wanted to go inside to check, he couldn't.
One night though, Wayne woke up to a noise coming from the room next to his, from Eddie's room.
He sighed running a hand over his face, tired, knowing he was going to have another sleepless night and that Eddie would too.
Thar time though, he heard the door to Eddie's bedroom open and the sound of bare feet making their way down the hallway where the phone was hanging on the wall.
What the hell was he doing?
Wayne got out of bed and headed for the door to his room but, when he was about to open it, he heard Eddie's voice on the other side of the door and stopped.
He knew eavesdropping was wrong, but that didn't stop him.
"Hey, sweetheart."
Wayne realized Eddie called you. At two in the morning.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Eddie whispered, almost as that was all the voice he could get out at the moment.
"Yeah, don't worry. I just... I think I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm sorry, I'm sure I woke you up. Yeah, I told you I'm fine." Eddie muttered, if his words were to sound convincing, he was failing miserably.
He sounded like a kid scared by a thunderstorm, in moments like that Wayne wished Eddie's mom was still there with him, some things really would've been easier.
âNo, that's stupid, I shouldn't even have called, you probably just want to sleep and not worry about my dumb problems. It's justâŚI'm tired, Y/N. I'm so tired and the nightmares won't stop and I⌠I don't know what to do. Every time, every night I'm there again and there are the bats and the lightning and- and It's hard to sleep without you. I'm scared Y/N. I'm scared they'll never stop, that I'll never be okay." Eddie sniffed.
Was he crying?
"But it's okay. I mean, yeah, I- don't worry and-" he probably stopped to hear what you were saying.
Were you telling him to go fuck himself for calling in the middle of the night? Were you trying to console him? Wayne couldn't know but either way, he didn't trust you. He had never done that.
"No. You don't have to. No, Y/N, no please, really, I-" Eddie stammered before silence fell on the other side of the door.
You hung up the phone. You hung up the phone on Eddie's face when he needed someone to listen to him and when he trusted you enough to call you and talk about how he was feeling.
Wayne knew it would end like this. You never loved Eddie like you said you did, you didn't even care about him or you wouldn't have hung up the phone. Maybe it was a joke all along, "make the freak your boyfriend, make him fall in love and trust you and then leave him when he needs it most and break his heart."
He knew how mean teenagers could be, they always managed to hit where it hurt the most. And, of course that's what you did with Eddie, you played with his heart that had already been broken too many times for someone so young.
He heard Eddie pacing nervously down the short hallway a couple of times, and just as Wayne was about to walk out of the room despite having no idea what to say, he heard the trailer door open and close.
Eddie went out. And Wayne wasn't going to let him spend the night in the cold or whatever that boy was up to.
The older Munson finally came out of his room and made his way to the door Eddie had disappeared through.
He opened it slightly and looked out, finding himself faced with the most unexpected scene he had imagined.
There you were, your car parked in front of the trailer, the door still open, and you were striding towards Eddie.
The sky was dark and moonless, only a few stars were visible, a nearby street lamp allowed the man to see what was happening.
Wayne leaned against the door frame, watching the scene a few feet away from him.
As soon as you reached Eddie you wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed him towards you, he immediately wrapped his arms around your body in a hug Wayne wondered if it could actually break any bones.
Eddie held on to you as if his life depended on it, squeezing the fabric of your shirt with his hands and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as he hugged you, as if having you there in that moment solved all his problems, as if Eddie was okay again just because of your presence.
"I'm here. It's okay, I got you." You said holding him, your voice soft and sincere.
That was the moment Wayne realized he was completely wrong about you, all along.
"You didn't have to come." Eddie whispered, not letting you go.
"But I wanted to." You responded by stepping away from him slightly, cupping his face with your hands and running your thumbs on his cheeks.
"I swear, you are something else." Eddie said with a slight smile. "Thank you for coming, really."
And Wayne, seeing you looking at Eddie as if he was the most precious thing in the world, wondered what had been on his mind every time he doubted your sincerity, every time he thought you didn't really care about Eddie.
You went there in the middle of the night because you knew he needed it, and he didn't even ask you. That was all it took to know that you were a good person. That you were there for his boy.
"I love you." He murmured before bringing his lips to yours in a light but affectionate kiss. Wayne had to look down, feeling he was slipping into a too intimate a moment.
"I love you too." You responded leaning your forehead against his. "And I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, you know that."
"Do you- think you can stay the night? I understand if you can't- if you don't want to- I mean-"
"Eddie, I've come to stay. I wouldn't leave even if you begged me, right now." You reassured him.
He nodded, leaving a kiss on top of your head. "I love you so much."
You smiled grabbing his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers ready to reenter the trailer.
Your eyes met Wayne's still in the doorway.
Eddie's hand squeezed yours tighter as you reached for him.
"She's spending the night here whether you like it or not." Eddie announced to his uncle.
Wayne looked between you and Eddie, then back to you as you started to talk.
"I'm sorry I showed up here in the middle of the night but I can't leave now, I-"
"I'm sorry I didn't trust you." He finally admitted.
A surprised expression came onto your face.
"I was wrong about you, I was wrong from the start." He said leading you into the trailer.
Eddie smiled at his uncle's words.
"It's okay, I understand where all your resilience came from. Really, don't worry about it." You answered with conviction.
Wayne patted your shoulder. "You are a good kid, thank you for being here."
You smiled again. "You don't have to thank me. None of you have to."
Eddie put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, up against his Metallica shirt he used to sleep in.
"We're going to sleep, uncle Wayne." Eddie said before heading to his room, dragging you with him.
You turned one last time to Wayne before disappearing behind Eddie's bedroom door. "Good night."
The man's gaze softened even more. "Goodnight kids."
Eddie was in good hands now, he always had been even when Wayne didn't know it.
You were always there, even when Wayne didn't know it. You were family.
Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7
6K notes
¡
View notes
9K notes
¡
View notes