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noxturnalpascal · 6 months

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PLENTY OF TIME

(HB x Tommy) (3.8K of new story)

CrackFic based on the @gracieispunk HBF!Joel series (that I am FUCKING OBSESSED with). HB (reader's husband) x Tommy Miller

**CHECK OUT THE NEWEST STORY IN THE HBF-VERSE FAKE BLOOD**

The moodboard represents MY head-canons and ONLY MY head-canons. Picture HB however you want!! (not you @strang3lov3 or @sr-lrn)

A/N & Warnings: I have some more of my own personal head-canons at the bottom of this fic. You can read them before, or after, or not at all. Please be aware this is MLM (Unprotected PinA, Oral M to M, come swallowing). If that isn’t your thing don’t read. I have never written MLM before so please be gentle with me. I appreciate your kindness.

Approved (and encouraged by) Gracie, but this IS NOT CANON

….(yet)

So this sordid little tale takes place during JEALOUS (please read that first). I’m not sure if Gracie meant to leave HB and Tommy alone in that hotel room for HOURS….. But somewhere deep inside her mind palace (lurking along the back corridors of the White Lotus)...... HB made sure that’s exactly what happened.

TEXT IN PINK IS PART OF JEALOUS - WRITTEN BY @gracieispunk

Your husband -HB- took Joel, Tommy, and all the guys, on a business trip for an architecture seminar.

Of course they didn’t have to come, but he insisted.

He who currently stands at the bar with Tommy, absolutely shit faced.

Joel’s other work friends hover around with the women they brought with them on the trip. Whether it’s their wives, girlfriends, or someone they met last week. Everyone is relaxed, despite the music thumping loud. Chatting and casually drinking beers, none of them as drunk as HB - who’s the only one who has to be up in less than 6 hours.

You stand in a short floral dress, your elbow perched on the table you’re seated at, your head in your hand. You pout as you sip your beer, because you rather be up in your hotel room with your book.

You try not to pout more as you watch Joel grind into another woman while they dance.

HB had drunkenly kissed you earlier and Joel wasn’t happy to witness that. Finding his revenge in one of the wives friends, who had supposedly been brought just for him.

He put the moves on her fast, laughing, and winking - and making you extremely jealous over a man that was indeed not your husband.

Joel looks over at you as he dances with her, raising his brows as his hands wander up the sides of her thighs like they do yours. You watch his hands and you can almost feel him on your legs instead.

It makes your stomach turn but you can’t stop watching. That is until Tommy gets your attention. He’s lugging a drunk HB over his shoulder.

“Think I’m gonna tuck this one in,” Tommy yells over the music.

You smile and nod before turning to HB who can’t even keep his eyes from rolling. You hold his face in your hand and completely miss the look of contempt Joel gives you, when he sees.

You lightly smack HB’s face and there’s hardly any response. You nod to Tommy to take him away and put him to bed.

Tommy drags HB into the elevator, the young couples already in it making room for them at the back. The other couples get off on the 3rd floor and Tommy shuffles HB off his shoulder for the remainder of the ride. HB stands up straight and stretches his back, all pretense gone, popping his neck and lowly groaning in the process.

“Took you long enough,” Tommy mutters. “Thought we were gonna be down there all fuckin’ night.” He crosses his arms, clearly pissed off.

“Relax, would ya?” HB reaches his hand to squeeze Tommy’s shoulder, lingering his touch. “Had to wait for the right time to get outta there.”

Tommy scoffs as the elevator dings, signaling the top floor arrival. HB squeezes Tommy’s shoulder harder and uses the grip to guide him out of the elevator and down the hall towards his room.

Once inside, HB stops just outside the bathroom and toes off his shoes. Tommy walks further into the large suite and sits down on the bed, shuffling off his shoes and socks and then moving quickly to unbutton his shirt. HB approaches him and grabs his hands, stalling his movements.

“Quit rushin’. I promise we’ve got time.”

“How can you be so sure?” Tommy looks up at him, brow still furrowed in frustration. HB runs his thumb across Tommy’s chin, sliding his palm across his stubbled-cheek and back into the hair on the side of his head, tugging lightly as he drags his fingers through it.

HB places his palms on top of Tommy’s thighs and lowers himself between the other man’s spread legs. Once on his knees he continues the slow unbuttoning of Tommy’s shirt, leaning forward to intermittently place gentle kisses on the edge of Tommy’s jaw. Tommy closes his eyes and breathes deeply, tension in his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Everyone’s pretty preoccupied,” he hums, not revealing any of his secrets. He knows Tommy was expecting more alone time together tonight, but he had to put the work in to make sure they would remain uninterrupted. He also knows that the kisses he laid all over his beautiful young wife’s face hours ago began a chain reaction.

He sat back and watched the dominoes fall, planted at the bar with Tommy all night pretending to get drunker and drunker. Watching Joel grope his little date (that HB had insisted be invited), and observing the way his own wife’s mood grew more and more sour. Finally, when she and Joel couldn’t keep their eyes off each other, he knew that he and Tommy wouldn’t be missed.

His buttons undone, Tommy pushes the shirt off his shoulders and yanks the cuffs over his hands, tossing the shirt towards the foot of the bed. Impatiently, he grabs at his undershirt with one hand and it joins the other clothes on the floor. He reaches for HB’s already-loosened tie but his hand is slapped away.

HB pushes his hand flat on Tommy’s chest, guiding him to lay back on the mattress. He reaches for Tommy’s belt and in one fluid motion the buckle is undone, a swift jerk releases it from the loops on Tommy’s khakis. Tommy groans in anticipation, making HB smirk.

Tommy bucks his hips off the bed in anticipation, reaching down in his impatience to undo his own button and fly. They don’t get as much time like this together as they want, so they're often both eager, rushing to make each other come as quickly as possible with hands and mouths.

Not tonight. Tonight HB wants to take his time.

He runs his hands up Tommy’s torso and then back down to his hips, curling his hands into his trousers and pulling down. Tommy plants his feet on the ground and pushes his pelvis to the sky, allowing more freedom for HB to remove his pants and underwear together. As HB pulls them down Tommy’s legs he hooks his fingers in his socks as well, leaving Tommy completely bare.

Tommy throws his arm over his face, groaning again as the cold air from the room hits his flushed, leaking cock. Wasting no more time, HB leans forward, grabbing Tommy’s dick firmly at the base, and begins swirling his tongue around the foreskin-covered head.

After a few circles with his tongue he closes his lips around it, suckling gently and bobbing his head very slightly up and down. He begins to firmly but slowly pump his hand up and down the shaft, his grip gliding smoothly as Tommy’s velvety skin slides up and down underneath his fist.

Ignoring Tommy’s increasing mewls of pleasure, HB returns to running his tongue along the head, slipping his tongue under the skin. He glides it around the ridge and swipes it across the slit, licking up the precome steadily leaking out. Tommy seems to grow even harder under his attention, his cock now dark red and straining towards the sky.

HB gently pulls his fist down the shaft, dragging on the skin to reveal more of the head. The sensitive underside of Tommy’s cock now exposed, HB sticks his tongue out of his mouth and gently taps that part of Tommy’s cock against it. The soft, wet slapping noises are barely audible over Tommy’s whines.

HB shifts his body, ignoring his own painfully hardening cock in favor of paying attention to the gorgeous man laid out in front of him. Still gripping the shaft, he alternates rubbing the frenulum side to side with his tongue, and taking him into his mouth and closing his lips around him. Each time he takes Tommy into his mouth he swallows him down further.

With his free hand HB guides Tommy’s one thigh up, resting his foot on the edge of the bed. Tommy moves his other leg up on his own, opening himself up wide for HB between his legs. Not stopping what his right hand and mouth are doing, HB cups Tommy’s balls with his left hand, gently rolling them, applying light pressure to them, and tugging them ever so slightly.

Tommy’s arm is still laid across his face, working to muffle his moans. HB reaches up with his left hand and pushes Tommy’s arm off his face. He stretches to touch Tommy’s face, dragging his fingers down over his nose and slipping his index finger into Tommy’s mouth. Tommy begins to suck on HB’s finger, mimicking the rolling tongue movements he feels being done to him.

When Tommy releases HB’s finger he brings it back down to the apex of Tommy’s legs. HB removes his mouth from Tommy’s cock and lowers his mouth to his balls. He begins to lick each one thoroughly before beginning to gently suckle at them, alternating back and forth. Eventually he takes one at a time into his mouth, rolling his tongue over them and letting them bob around gently inside.

When Tommy’s balls are in HB’s mouth, lifted and out of the way, HB takes his spit-slicked finger and begins sliding it along the space behind Tommy’s balls. Tommy scrabbles to grab a pillow and covers his face with it just as a loud, wanton moan releases from his mouth. HB lets a low moan out himself, vibrating Tommy’s balls in his mouth, sending him further into ecstasy.

HB continues his ministrations, moving his finger back just a bit further and pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He dips his head down and begins to lap his tongue wetly along the area he just trailed his finger, letting Tommy’s noises guide him. Lazily pumping his fist over Tommy’s dick, he draws swirls and circles with the tip of his tongue along Tommy’s perineum and over his puckered hole.

Tommy is now incoherently babbling into the pillow nonstop as HB flicks his tongue back and forth, up and down. HB is waiting and he knows he won’t have to wait much longer. Almost as if on cue, Tommy throws the pillow off his face and keens the word please, his eyes scrunched closed and his face contorted as if in pain.

HB raises his face up and grips Tommy’s cock extra firm, making Tommy sit up on his elbows and suck a breath through his teeth. His eyes meet HB’s and then HB growls out just loud enough for Tommy to hear over his own panting breaths.

“Give it to me.”

Tommy’s head lolls back.

“I wanna taste it,” HB adds before he opens wide and swallows Tommy’s cock down to the base.

Tommy’s hand immediately flies to the back of HB’s head, threading through his silver hair. HB pushes his finger against Tommy’s tight hole, inserting his finger to the halfway point. HB begins to swallow, knowing the sensations on Tommy’s over-sensitive cockhead are going to send him over the edge.

He can feel Tommy’s balls tighten up and he pushes his finger in knuckle deep as Tommy’s cock begins to throb, releasing his hot spend down HB’s throat. HB can hear Tommy’s muffled groans as he swallows down everything Tommy is giving him. HB hums, coaxing him through it all until Tommy stops convulsing and then he gently pulls his finger out from Tommy’s clamping grip.

He pulls his mouth off Tommy’s softening dick, and wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his arm, still fully clothed. He stands up, his tall figure towering over the bed.

Tommy sits up and begins to hastily undo HB’s trousers, once the zipper is unzipped he quickly moves on and begins to pluck the buttons undone going up his shirt. HB clutches Tommy’s hands in his own once again, stopping him. He shakes his head slightly, releasing Tommy’s hands before stepping back and resuming the unbuttoning himself, but slower.

“I already told ya, we got plenty of time.”

Now he draws it out on purpose, lazily drawing his tie down his chest, letting the skinny end pull from the knot, tugging it from his neck. He delicately eases his now open shirt off his shoulders, dragging it down his toned arms. Plucking the cuffs over his fists he walks over to the chair in the corner, making a show of gently laying the shirt and tie over the back of the seat. His trousers follow, folded over the chair as well.

Tommy rolls his eyes but HB isn’t finished, as he walks around the room in only his underwear and socks, bending over to retrieve Tommy’s discarded clothes one by one. He gives them the same treatment, shaking them out and folding them over the back of the chair with his own.

He goes back to Tommy, sitting at the edge of the bed again, and shuffles in close between the man’s legs, pressing his covered erection up against Tommy’s cheek. Tommy wraps his hands around the back of HB’s thighs, squeezing the flesh there and pulling him tighter to his face.

Tommy reaches down and takes HB’s socks off one by one, discarding them where he stands. Then he reaches up to the waistband of HB’s boxer briefs and hooks his fingers in, pulling them down torturously slowly, while tilting his head back and keeping eye contact with a grinning HB. Tommy leaves them to pool at HB’s feet and turns his attention back to HB’s cock in his face.

HB watches Tommy’s face, always so expressive when he looks at his cock. HB is significantly longer than average, not overly girthy, but proportional. He keeps his pubic hair trimmed short and his balls and ass waxed clean. He’s been told by several lovers how impressive it all looks, including by Tommy (and by his wife back when they started dating).

Tommy grips HB’s ass and pushes him forward, mouth open to receive his huge straining erection. HB would love to push it deep into Tommy’s warm, wet, waiting mouth. But instead he stills his forward movement, pushing back against Tommy’s gripping hands. Tommy looks up immediately, concern etched across his face.

“I have something else in mind,” HB whispers, taking Tommy’s face in his hands.

Tommy’s brows knit together. HB reaches over to the nightstand and opens the drawer, pulling out a small bottle of Astroglide. Tommy’s eyes widen when they land on the small, purple-capped bottle. He scrunches his brows and groans.

“I don’t think we have-”

Shhh Shhhhhh, HB silences him with a finger over his lips. “Don’t you worry about anyone but us.”

HB grabs one of Tommy’s hands off his bare ass and squirts some of the lube into his palm. He guides Tommy’s hand to him and lets him spread it over his shaft, smoothly jerking his long-ignored cock. His eyes close and his head falls forward at the sensation of finally having attention paid to him, dark and dripping, straining for relief.

HB revels in the attention for a moment. He lets Tommy tug firmly on him, plant kisses along his hip, grab handfuls of his ass with his other hand. He spends so much time in his own head, so much time on pleasing his clients, so much time planning his next project. When he does get to blow off steam he tends to do so in a selfish, spectacular, explosive fashion.

This trip was supposed to be just him, attending a conference as the keynote speaker. He would have been making and watching presentations all day, schmoozing with bigger firms at the hotel bar, and answering the same goddamn questions over and over. His wife, who he knew was proud of him, asked to come along and help celebrate him. Maybe part of her was trying to rekindle their long-lost closeness.

But once the idea was in his head to make this trip more personal than professional, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to invite Tommy, only a little ashamed to admit that he would rather have him there than his wife. Once Tommy was on the guest list he knew he had to bring his wife, and of course, his wife’s ‘secret’ boyfriend - his best friend Joel. And then, knowing it couldn’t be just this awkward little foursome, he invited the rest of Joel’s crew and their partners along as well.

Why not? He had the fuckin’ money to pay for it all. When he told his wife he invited everyone she actually looked almost disappointed for a moment, a little wave of hurt flashing across her face. But he shrugged it off, knowing that having Joel there would be a comfort to her. Although he did feel a tiny pang of guilt when he told the other guys to have their wives bring a girl for Joel, especially knowing Joel really only had eyes for one girl - his girl.

But he needed the distraction. He needed attention paid elsewhere. He needed this.

This time alone with Tommy, time that they never got back home.

HB opens his eyes and guides Tommy to lay down on the bed again, this time laying over him, kissing his mouth, wet and wanting. They make out like that for a bit, rough stubble scraping against each other’s chins, Tommy’s one hand still moving up and down HB’s cock, HB’s hands tugging and pulling at Tommy’s shoulders and hips, fighting to pull him closer.

When HB pulls back they’re both panting and Tommy’s pupils are blown wide, desire painted on his face.

“Have you done this a lot?” Tommy whispers, breathless. He swallows past the lump in his throat, visibly nervous. They both know this is his first time.

“No,” HB lies. “Not a lot.”

It had been years, since before he got married, that he’d been with a man in this way. And he’d never fucked his wife like this, even though he thinks she might have wanted him to at one point. So he doesn’t feel like a complete shit when he tells Tommy this lie. The lie will soothe him. The lie will put him at ease. The lie will get him in faster.

HB stands up and encourages Tommy’s legs up on the bed again, spreading him open further with a gentle push on his knees. He grabs the bottle and dribbles lube onto Tommy’s dick, which is getting hard again already, watching it drip down his balls and towards his ass crack.

Tommy lifts his feet and moves his knees towards his head to open himself up even more, breathing deeply and holding back whines. Tossing the bottle aside, HB begins to massage the back of Tommy’s thighs, smoothing his hands over Tommy’s hips, pelvis, and cock, which hardens further under his touch. Gathering the lube, he massages Tommy’s balls, his ass, and dips his digits towards his end-goal.

Making sure his thumb is lubed up, he presses against Tommy’s taut hole once again, rubbing circles around it in tandem. He grabs at Tommy’s hands, encouraging the man to jerk his own dick while HB continues his attention lower.

“How does this feel?” HB asks, already aware of the answer.

Tommy manages a feeble whine in response, something that sounds like a drawn out yeah.

“Are you okay?”

Tommy’s head nods quickly, eyes clamped shut.

HB pushes his thumb in slowly, feeling Tommy try to relax and enjoy the sensation. HB begins to ease his thumb in and out while he slowly rolls the fingers of his other hand around the crown of his own cock. Watching Tommy laid out like a buffet, jerking his own dick with both hands and getting finger-fucked has HB ready to come just like this.

But he has plans to follow through on.

HB takes his thumb out and moves forward, replacing it at Tommy’s entrance with his cock. He meets Tommy’s eyes and sees his look of apprehension.

“Are you good?”

“Yeah. Just… N-nervous,” Tommy stutters out.

“We’ll go slow,” HB affirms, bending down to plant kisses on Tommy’s knees in the air.

HB guides himself forward, pushing on one of Tommy’s cheeks with his free hand to spread him, watching as the head enters him. Tommy makes an effort to breathe slowly and relax his body. They’ve talked about how good this can feel and Tommy has put his trust in HB for this moment.

HB stops with just the tip in and takes some deep breaths himself. He wants to make this last.

“Can you take more?” HB asks. Tommy nods in response. “Hey, talk to me.”

“Yeah,” Tommy pants. He continues brokenly, “It feels… good… keep going… please.”

HB rocks his hips forward genty, pushing himself in another couple inches. Before Tommy has ample time to react HB pulls back, watching the other man’s changing facial expressions. He slowly eases himself in and out, one hand still on his dick, the other now resting on Tommy’s knee, pushing it gently down towards his chest.

HB is quiet, much less vocal than he usually is, and Tommy is quieter beneath him than he was during the blow job. Thank god for that, HB thinks, because if Tommy was moaning like that now it would be over for him. HB is clutching tight to his own resolve, trying so desperately not to end this early. He’s been waiting for this moment for months and it feels so fucking good, he wants it to last forever.

“Keep touching yourself,” HB orders, “I wanna feel you come again.”

Tommy lets a low whine escape from his lips. HB watches Tommy’s movements over his own cock increase in tempo and vigor. Tommy loves it when HB takes control, loves it when he uses his vast experience to show him new pleasures, loves it when he talks dirty.

HB continues to gently saw in and out, both hands now on Tommy’s knees, careful to limit himself to only thrusting about a third of his length inside. He doesn’t want to hurt Tommy and he knows this is enough, this is hitting Tommy in all the right places. Tommy is going to come from this, and then - finally - he can come.

He’s selfish in a lot of ways, but he’s never been called a selfish lover.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” HB moans out, “Feels like this tight little hole was made just for me.”

That’s apparently all Tommy needed because HB can feel it before Tommy has a chance to even announce it. Tommy cries out and clamps down on HB, who pushes himself in as far as he dares to. Tommy’s cock begins to release ropes of come, hitting both of their chests and one spurt reaching up to stick to HB’s chin.

HB can’t hold on any longer, he grabs his dick in his fist to stop himself from pushing forward into Tommy’s tense opening. He groans loudly as he comes, filling Tommy up, listening to him sigh as he feels HB’s hot release. When HB has finished, he slowly pulls out, watching his spend leak out of Tommy onto the sheets.

It doesn’t matter if the sheets are dirty, he’s sure his wife won’t be coming back here to sleep on them tonight.

He pulls Tommy up and drags him to the shower where they both spend a long time under the hot spray of water, washing each other, kissing, and laughing. At one point Tommy gets nervous that they’re going to be interrupted, trying to speed up the shower so he can leave. HB shushes him once again.

“Aren’t you worried she’s gonna come in here and catch us?”

HB chuckles. The thought of his wife catching him, given her own activities, doesn’t worry him at all. But Tommy doesn’t know about what she’s been up to with Joel. He actually wonders if part of her would be relieved to see it, if it would make her feel justified in her own infidelity. Would she leave him? Would he want her to?

“You don’t think they’re gonna notice I’ve been up here so long?” Tommy asks, still nervous.

“I don’t think they noticed,” HB soothes him. Unable to tell him why, he makes up a lie. “I bet everyone is so drunk right now they’re all passed out in their rooms.”

“But this is her room-”

HB interrupts Tommy with a tongue in his mouth, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing the breath out of him.

Finally, just over two hours after they came into the room, Tommy is fully dressed, adjusting his belt, and kissing HB goodbye as he heads out the door. It’s almost 2am and HB has to be up in less than four hours for tomorrow’s schedule. He doesn’t mind, he can pound coffee all day if he needs to, maybe sneak in a nap.

It was worth it.

You spend more hours making small talk with the women and watching Joel dance with one of them. Aggressively getting bolder with each song. At one point he lowers himself behind her and runs his mouth along her bare legs, all while holding eye contact with you.

Your stomach burns and you raise yourself from the table. Paying your tab at the bar and wandering out into the empty halls of the hotel

You’re walking away with your arms crossed, when you hear running footsteps on the shitty abstract carpet.

“Heading to bed so early?” He huffs.

You don’t turn around. You know he was pissed at you for a kiss, to the man whom you’re married to, that you couldn’t control.

His eyes meet yours and you blink up at him. Your mind wanting to stay furious with him for turning this into a huge joke and your body wanting to give into him - like always.

You open your mouth and go to speak, but the elevator doors open and Tommy goes to step out, before getting startled.

“Oh, shit,” he huffs on impulse, and you can’t help but step farther away from Joel.

Joel, who only pivots on his heel towards Tommy and furrows his brows.

“Y’put that old fart to bed?” He asks.

Tommy steps out and around you both. Giving you a suspicious look, before his eyes flicker back to Joel’s

“Uh, yeah - m’headin’…” he points with his thumb, back down the hall, towards the bar.

“Back in there,” his sentence trails off and Joel slaps his arm twice with an over exaggerated smile, before following you into the elevator.

“Great, just gonna make sure this one gets to her room okay.”

Tommy gives you both another strange look as the elevator doors close. You don’t bother looking him in the eye.

After the elevator doors have fully closed and he sees the box of light begin to lift off the floor, Tommy huffs a loud sigh of relief. He thought for sure he just got caught. He thinks both of them must have been quite drunk to not realize how long he’d been gone, just like HB said. He runs a hand through his still-wet hair, then nervously adjusts his belt again before he heads back to the bar to close out his tab.

This was a labor of love and I had lots of help along the way. I want to thank @gracieispunk for her permission and encouragement first and foremost. (I really do love you girl.) This was SO fun to write and I hope I did her characters justice because I love them so much and her writing means A LOT to me. I also want to thank everyone who offered me advice and support in the writing of this piece, which I took way too seriously lolol. This is the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written (BY FAR) and it’s the first time I’ve ever written mlm. I am nervous and I really hope I did it some justice but I apologize if I didn’t do it well. BIG thank you to @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog who gave me the idea to mimic some of the scenes that hbf and his reader have done. And thank yous to the following creative people for helping me with beta reading and workshoping various parts of this absolute cock-fest: @theywhowriteandknowthings @bonezone44 @hiddenbabynyc @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @clawdee @ievutebebe

My own personal head-canons (not based on facts or encouraged by anyone - just some background I had in my head while I wrote this non-canon story) *not required reading - only read if you’re interested.

I head-canon HB as Timothy Olyphant. In my mind reader is 28/29, Tommy is 34/35, Joel is 39/40, HB is 48/49. Reader & HB have been married about 5 years.

I don’t think that HB knows everything that goes on, but I do like to think that - being an architect-bro and a pretty high-tech dude, he has cameras in the house - potentially ones that his wife doesn’t know about. So, he knows 100% for sure that she and Joel have their thing going on. He’s not really upset about it.

HB refuses to pin himself down with a label, sexually, but in my mind his appetite is varied and he goes through phases (His wife thinks he's straight). When they met he thought she was beautiful, smart, and kind. They had a fun relationship, good sex, and she was impressed by him, made him feel good. Most importantly, his mother liked her, and since his mother was ill at the time, he proposed and married her after a whirlwind romance. His mother has since passed away.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?) for his wife - after the first couple years of their marriage he started to lose interest (sexually). It's kind of a sugar daddy vibe going on and since he's pretty self-absorbed, he has no qualms about keeping a pretty young thing on his arm. He’s not a serial cheater by any means but he is currently having a secret fling with his best friend’s brother - Tommy Miller (who is newly bi). This is relatively new and it’s not the reason why he’s doing it - but he justifies this affair with the knowledge that she and Joel were fucking each other first.

He likes his wife, cares about her, finds her attractive, and enjoys fucking her from time to time (he's certainly not gonna say no to getting off if she initiates). He’s not a bad guy, but he’s definitely selfish and prefers to remain emotionally unavailable. He doesn’t treat her badly but he very rarely treats her with the care and attention she deserves (I didn't say he was a good guy, but he could be worse).

Part of him is unaware of all the selfish ways he acts (narcissist) , but the part of him that does know how shitty he’s acting is soothed by the fact that he knows his best friend is taking care of her. Not even just in a sexual sense, part of him knows that Joel cares about her and looks out for her (aka is obsessed with her).

#HB x Tommy Miller #hbf!joel #hbf!joel universe #gracieispunk #so much ass #mlm

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cyborg-franky · 2 years

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One Piece Characters Ideal First Dates

Just wanted to do something fluffy and silly, sorry if anyone has done these before <3

Ace

Shows up in a panic, maybe a little late or too early but never on time.

Would go for food, probably something like pizza or other junk type food.

Games arcade to play lots of games together.

Maybe a concert or a gig, something loud and high energy.

Will rock up in baggy jeans and band shirts.

Marco

Often late but will at least text ahead of he is.

Loves going on a coffee dates.

Or a cocktail date.

He’s fond of meeting late afternoon so he can take you for a walk along the beach as the sun sets and then takes you for some nice fruity cocktails.

Maybe another walk on the beach under the stars.

Sandals, capri pants, loose-fitting shirts, or bright tye dyes.

Thatch

On time, no worries there.

Takes you to a nice restaurant on the seafront.

Likes to go somewhere with live music but not too loud.

Maybe a spot of dancing in the evening.

Another man who’d like to walk with you on the beach.

Wears nice pants or smart jeans, form-fitting shirts

Izou

On time, expects the same, you have a window of ten minutes before he leaves.

He would take you to a fancy meal or perhaps a cute tea garden with a traditional performance.

Or he takes you to a fashion show and you go on a really nice shopping trip.

The kinda shopping trip that had fancy drinks and pricey food.

He would wear beautiful dresses or a skirt and blouse combo.

Be prepared to bask in his splendor.

Deuce

On time, maybe even early, and sits around with nervous pacing if you are even a minute late yourself.

He would take you to a nice cafe where you would get something to eat and drink and he would get to know you.

The first date would be short because he’s still getting used to you but it’s nice.

Maybe go see a play or something.

Sabo

He will be late, 100%

But he’ll be sorry and make it worth your while.

He will either be nice and fancy and take you for a nice afternoon tea in a fancy tea place or a garden or he will be a grubby gremlin and drag you around underground bars where people look a little sus and like you couldn’t leave your bag unattended.

He won't take you to chain places, they all have to be independent.

Law

Will be on time.

He likes a nice easy coffee date, something simple and casual so he can work you out and decide if he wants to spend more time with you or not.

If he does like you he’s happy to take you to a movie later, something that's nice and peaceful and he can judge you on how quiet you are during the movie, he doesn’t like a talker or someone annoying.

Corazon

He would be on time until something messed up and you’d end up having to wait for him for a while but he will be super sorry about it!

Dinner somewhere nice, maybe somewhere with a garden you guys could sit and eat, have a drink and so he could have a smoke.

Maybe riverside, something romantic.

Then he’d walk you home through a nice park.

Kid

Believe it or not but this fucker would be on time because he would hate it if someone wasted his time.

A loud concert would be his ideal first date, and some drinks, and food in a bar that plays live music is also ideal for him.

Maybe just sitting together outside on the steps as the band plays inside as he offers you another drink.

Something chill so he can get to know you but also shows you a taste of what he’s like as a person.

Killer

Similar to Kid on the being on time but also enjoying something with live bands or performances.

On the flip side, if he knows you aren’t the loud places kina person he’s happy to come to your place and cook for you and you guys could watch a movie.

He might even take you for a ride on his bike and sit under the stars.

Buggy

On-time [Yes, wow I know]

He loves a good drinking session and getting to know someone, he’s his most honest after a few drinks.

But he also loves a good game.

Bowling is something he adores.

It's silly and fun he could use his power to cheat at it and he’s pretty good at it.

Let him win though.

Roger

He’s late, but you didn’t expect anything else.

Gives you a bone-crushing hug as a sorry though so it’s all good.

He takes you to mini/crazy golf and a few beers.

He fucking loves silly things like this.

The drinks flow, and the banter and compliments also.

You will have a wild time playing golf with this man.

He doesn’t know his own strength and will knock the ball into space once or twice.

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ibelivedthehypeam · 1 year

Text

Izzy Stradlin smut

Sitting at a table surrounded by his friends while his hands creeped up my thigh wasn’t how I though this night would go.

Just over a month without Izzy and I was going feral. I didn’t expect I’d really miss him as much as I do, but here we are. Finally he was back in LA for a show tonight and was staying for a few days. He had asked me to meet him before the gig started, somewhere backstage. I’d got dressed up in something I knew he could resist, and got a cab to the venue.

Upon arriving to the bar I realised they was quite a large group of people waiting to be let in. I followed Izzy’s instructions and headed to a door round the back of this building. Soon enough I recognised faces, smiling to duff and slash who were lazily drinking with some girls.

“Hey babe!” I heard Izzy say, pulling me into a hug. He gave me a short kiss while walking me into the dressing room he was occupying.

“I’v missed you.” I admit into his ear as he kisses down my neck, looking to see my dress and smirking at me.

“Same, so much, I have to be on stage in 5 though.” He says calmly, caressing my shoulders and I audibly let out a groan of annoyance.

“Don’t worry, we can spend the rest of the night together.” He smiles, winking at me and I giggle. At least he was on the same mind track as me.

“Let’s go Iz!” I heard someone yell from outside the door. He gives me a final kiss before grabbing his guitar off a stand.

“Looks like it’s your time to shine.” I grin at him and he laughs, pecking my lips once more before we walk out of the room.

The hallways were dimly lit, with unusual stains on either side of the walls. Izzy however seemed to know his way round perfectly. When we got into the main venue I recognised it instantly, they had played here a few times.

“See you later.” He exclaims joining Steven walking up onto stage. The crowd roared at their entrance, screaming their names at they began the introduction to rocket queen. After they had finished their first few songs I realised Erin, axls girlfriend, was dancing just near to me.

“Hey yn!” She exclaimed acknowledging my appearance in the crowd of people in the side lines. We chatted for a bit until they started their song Paradise City, both of us screaming the words and dancing together.

When they were coming to the end of their set I noticed Izzy’s eyes lingering on my figure more frequently. I smirked at him catching his dark gaze, which he didn’t stop, his eyes travelling down my body. I loved when he played his guitar, how his hands stretched over the frets, making me squirm slightly at the sight. Not to mention the way he would throw his head back in parts of the songs. I didn’t know if he did it on purpose but it certainly got me in a mood. After they had finished their final song, the five of them walked off, full of sweat and post-show energy.

Quickly enough izzy found me again placing a long kiss to my lips, wrapping his arms around my waist and I hooked mine around his neck. He slid his tongue past my lips and into my mouth, causing me to release a short moan. After he pulled away he stared into my features, only long enough to make me flustered. The guys were already planning their evening ‘getting drunk’ session and apparently Izzy had already agreed to it. I gave him a glare as the group of us headed to a bar just down the road from where they had performed.

I knew we wouldn’t be here for long if I managed to turn on Izzy. I was already desperate for him, it had been so long since I had felt him and he had got me all riled up from him being on stage. We all got situated in a circular table in the corner of the building, me between Steven and Izzy.

“Sweetheart you can wait 30 minutes, can’t you?” He asks, with a tone in his voice that made me bite down on my lips. He smirks, knowing he just getting me even more hot and bothered. I roll my eyes at him and turn to Steven to talk to him.

“So Steven, how are you?” I ask and we began talking about casual subjects. As we started to chat about his new drum equipment I felt Izzy’s hand, warm and gentle on my knee, stroking with him thumb. I continue to talk to Steven ignoring Izzy, who was still trying to get a reaction out of me by moving his hand to my thigh. Thank god the table was covering my bottom half, otherwise I think we would have had some teasing from his band mates. Steven announces he’s getting more drinks and Izzy grabs my chin to face him.

“What’s with the ignoring baby, I thought you were horny?” Izzy chucked into my ear just quite enough that I can only hear. He was right of course but I wasn’t gonna let him know that, he would tease me with it forever.

“I’m not ignoring you, your just wanting my attention sweetie.” I say, resting my hand on his chest, moving it down to his crotch. I hear him gulp and I giggle, removing my hand, turning to Steven who had returned with drinks.

I start talking to Steven again, this time duff was laughing at some mtv thing, telling a story. That I was only half listening to as Izzy whispered dirty secrets into my neck.

“Let’s go home, I need you.” He groans, grabbing my hand and guiding it to his bulge that could be pretty noticeable. He moaned slightly as I pinched the tip through his trousers, holding my hand as I worked on him. I stood up and Izzy explained we were leaving, some excuse of jet lag, it was obvious we were gonna fuck though. The taxi home was short, full of groping and kissing, but not long enough that we would have done anything too sexual.

“Please sweetheart, I’m so hard for you baby.” Izzy groaned, we weren’t too steps into my apartment before he pushed me against a wall, letting me feel his hard cock against my heat. If I wasn’t wet already I definitely was now. Listing to our combined moans, we touched and felt each over to the skin, making our way to the bedroom. He knew his way around, had done this before too many time to count, but every time the feeling of lust and excitement never failed to intrude our minds.

“Yes Izzy!” I moaned into his shoulder as my arms linked around his back, scratching and pulling at his skin. He let his fingers stroke down to my wet flesh, stroking down my pussy and steadying himself above me. I felt his tip enter me, then the rest of his length, hitting right where I wanted him. His exhales of pleasure were sent straight to my core as he continued thrusting into me at a alarming pase.

“God I’ve missed you.” He admits in a hurry as he feels down my sides, I feel he’s close and I clench, almost warning him that I am too. He does a final lift of his hips and both of us collapse into load moans of each others names. Coming down from my high I notice he’s looking at me, smiling. I laugh and he kisses my lips, it’s passionate, full of love.

Authors note - again izzy?! he’s hot im sorry 🤭. Anyway request please!!! I have no ideas. (Links in my pinned post) thanksss

#izzy stradlin #guns and roses #izzy stradlin smut #guns and roses smut #slash #Steven Adler #duff mckagan #axl rose #smut

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channieandhisgoonsquad · 9 months

Text

Winter Blunderland (Part Four)

Word Count: 2.2K Warnings: 🩻 🦷Alcohol consumption, fluffy stuff, some dirty thoughts mentioned, SMUT, oral sex (f!receiving)

Comments: It's been a long time coming, but I wrote enough of a part to be ready to release more. @lyramundana always talking about murdering me but oh well. Please let me know what you think!! ♥️♥️ Summary: Isn't it such an unfortunate thing when you are stuck somewhere you don't want to be? Like a fucking airport. :( Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

“Where did that come from?”

“I am just… curious.”

“ I think you’re cool.” You said casually. Not knowing how much you should actually say to the man. What was he really asking?

“That’s it?” HE perked an eyebrow at the quick response.

“Do you want me to say more?”

“Something real would be great. Stop being formal.” He challenged your attempt at being decent and nice.

You smiled at his straight-forwardness. So lovely to have someone that just wants to talk about the reality of things. Not the damn weather or how your day is.

“I think you are an anomaly, a surprise, that I didn’t plan on; someone I did not plan on meeting. I didn’t think I would enjoy today at all. Your funny mannerisms and cute presents have turned my winter break around. I am very grateful you sat by me.”

“Hmm…” He contemplated what he thought of that response. “Anything else?” He persisted as he turned slightly more towards you while resting his elbow on the table.

You really could say a lot more. The look on his face was impossible to read. The shots had loosened your tongue a lot more than you’re used to, but the temptation to say more was itching to be released.

Fuck it.

“I think you are absolutely gorgeous. The way you carry yourself is very attractive and your style is impeccable. I don’t know how I got so lucky to sit next to you. But, if I wasn’t stuck here in this damn airport in the middle of the night, or if you didn’t live across the world, I probably would’ve tried to get you to go out with me. Your hair is fun, you're sweet to random old ladies, and you’re such a dork and that turns me on so much.”

His eyes widen and you just cackle out loud at his shock. You really did just lay all of your feelings out on the table for him. And now the floodgates have opened.

“Besides being just so handsome, you seem so strong. Like, I want to feel your arms and just stare at your hands while you do things.”

He still looked so surprised at how blatantly honest you continued being to him. You had been holding your breath, only breathing out as you continued spewing your thoughts. This was not the normal thing for you, but you were tired of being afraid of speaking your piece and being “too much” for people. This man was going to be with you for the next few hours, but after that, who knows?

Minho stood up and grabbed your hand. He started pulling you away from your stuff and walked off down the hall. There was no one around besides the occasional bored travelers waiting for their flights, hardly anyone honestly. “Wait, Minho, where are we going?”

“Trust me?”

“I do, but-” He cut off your thought when he turned a corner. It was sudden, like he didn’t really know where he was going. The two of you walked past a fancy bar and came to the end of one of the many halls. He stopped at a door that said “Custodial” and finally turned himself back towards you.

Your face must have looked concerned, because he sighed and smiled at you, “Sorry, I forgot about this until now. The barman? He asked who the alcohol was for. I said "me and my new friend. Long night.”.”

This made sense. He had been gone for a few minutes. “Okayyyy?” You replied slowly, trying to understand where this was going. He was still holding onto your hand since he had gotten up, albeit tightly and making you more confused.

He looked up as he thought of how to continue his story. The cogs were rolling and he knew what he wanted to say to you, but his nerves of saying it wrong were making it harder. To try and bring his heart rate down, he brought his thoughts back to how soft your hand was. He rubbed the back of your palm with his thumb, and it honestly helped both of your nerves.

“Well, he said this room was built wrong. The lock was put inside, not outside. They use it for meetings. He wanted me to know.” So Minho grabbed the handle and, sure enough, it opened right up. He reached past the door for a switch and the light flickered on to show a desk and a few chairs.

You looked around to see there was no one around. There was not a soul to see you walk into this suspicious closet. “What are we doing, Minho?”

He led you into the closet, shut and locked the door behind you, and said in the most serious tone, “I wanted to tell you what I think about you.”

The air was immediately tense as you pieced together what was happening. The handsomest man stood a foot away, licking his lips, and stared at you up and down as if he was starving.

“But only if you want me to.” He whispered to finish his previous thought. You had already said what you thought of him, and you are locked in this closet in a mostly empty airport Christmas eve.

Wait-

You pull your phone out of your butt pocket to take a look at the lock screen. “Minho, it’s 00:03. If you don’t tell me exactly how you feel about me as my Christmas present I might-”

Minho backed you against the door as he threw his lips onto yours. You sighed so sweetly as his perfect lips finally met yours. He had one hand cradling the nape of your neck and another resting on your hip.

You gladly accepted the connection and immediately craved more. “You are beautiful.” He whispered between breathless kisses. Your immediate response was a moan into his mouth as he pulled your lower lip between his teeth. On instinct, your pelvis met his own as you leaned into him, and you felt him growing harder against you.

“You are so fun. You make me laugh.” He continued between breaths as he went for your neck. The intensity was ramping up and you wanted this man as close to you as you could get him. So, while he was distracted by your smooth neck, you took the opportunity to push him back into the chair that was away from the desk. As soon as he fell into the spot, he looked up at you slowly approaching him.

“You are the best present I could have asked for, y/n” Minho whined as you approached him. When you were within reach, though, he grabbed your waist to pull you flush with his crotch. He rubbed your sides as he slowly lifted the sides of your long sleeve shirt. Feeling his slightly calloused hands on the soft skin of your hips and waist was such a treat for the two of you. Neither of you knowing just how long both of you had been craving the touch of another in this way.

He lifted his palms higher under the plush clothing until they were under the hem of your sports bra. He brought his face to your stomach and left kisses lightly along your lower abdomen. Slowly inhaling your natural scent and adoring the exposed skin. You took the opportunity to ruffle your fingers through his purple hair. You were surprised at the fluffiness of his tresses, expecting him to have it dried out due to the color processing, but he knew how to take care of his hair.

“I want to show you how much I think about you. Will you let me?” He purred against your skin. Leaning over to kiss your wrist that was resting on his shoulder. The warmth of his breath tickled the hair on your body as he spoke those words and sent chills to your core. He was so sexy. You had thought that before, but his gentle caressing was turning you on more than you thought possible.

You smiled down at the man that was still adoring your torso and nothing more, waiting patiently for approval. You led two fingers under his chin to guide his eyes to meet yours. The longing in his eyes made you feel like long lost lovers that hadn’t seen each other in months. You stared into his beautiful eyes while grounding and reminding yourself that this was new and temporary. “Please, Minho.”

That was all he needed for him to grasp the hem of your jeans and look at you for confirmation. You nodded quickly and he smirked at your excitement. He began unbuttoning and pulling your skinny jeans past the swell of your ass. He struggled a little getting it past and you could see his annoyance, but you giggled and it made him look back up at you with amusement, “If your ass was not so big, this would not be a problem.”. You smacked him on the shoulder a little and he chuckled, “I’m joking. I love your ass.” He replied as his voice lowered and his eyes darkened with carnal instinct.

He held the sides of your pants as you slipped your feet out; having needed help with your shoes too. He scooted forward more in his seat to make sure he was flush with your exposed body. His face lined up just above the edge of your panties and his hands took all of your exposed bottom in his hands. Thank god you wore a thong; you could feel his nails dig into the pliable flesh as he kneaded it and tugged it every direction. All while his face ventured south, smelling and teething at your exposed skin and underwear. “You smell heavenly, y/n.”.

“Please don’t stop…” You sighed at the sight of him taking you all in. As he continued slowly letting his nose rub against the soft cotton, you grew more needy and he could tell as you squirmed, not sure what to do with your hands. But a low chuckle from deep in his throat made you groan and you resided in grabbing the back of his head and pull him closer to your clothed heat.

He tucked his head between your thighs and gave a long lap at your clothed core made you sigh and throw your head back. He smacked one cheek to get you to snap back and look down at him, “Sit.” He slapped the desktop and you followed his command without a word.

As you hopped up onto the desk he swiveled his chair in your direction and pulled you forward to the edge. Your core was officially in front of his face and you were impatient. You tore off your panties on your own and he leaned back in awe at how ready you were. “Couldn’t wait?” He smirked at your neediness as he rubbed his hard on through his dark jeans.

Once you were free of that tiny piece of fabric you spread your legs by placing them on the arm rests of his chair; both elevating your knees and leaning back on your elbows. Your trimmed cunt displayed loud and proud as you flaunted where you wanted him. That look of awe in his face turned carnal as he licked his lips and watched you open yourself up to him.

“What are you waiting for? Open your present?” You sighed, feeling already so wound up as you opened your labia up to show him how wet you were for him.

That was all he needed to hear as he dove forward to consume you fully. His arms looped under your knees to pull your ass even closer to him and make you lay back on the desk. He gave you one long lap across your whole exposed sex, from asshole to clit. You moaned softly, remembering you were still in a public area.

“No one is around. Let me hear how much you enjoy my present to you.” He dipped his tongue into your tight pussy and hummed in satisfaction. Then followed it up by sucking on your clit and adding two fingers to your cunt. You couldn’t hold back the mewls of pleasure he was sending to you. Everything he did with that tongue of his was pure bliss and you got yourself back up on your elbows to look at him at work.

He retracted his face from your clit and smiled so beautifully you thought you would climax just looking at him. His nose to chin were covered in your slickness and he seemed so happy just doing this. “God, y/n. You are perfect. I don’t want to stop.” So, he went back to playing with your pussy and nipping at everything around and in your most sensitive area.

The feelings he was bringing to you were nothing to joke around about. You had been with women that knew how to please you, but never a man. And he did it purely because he wanted you. There was no sense of tit-for-tat. Just enjoyment of making another person gasp and contract around his digits. His ministrations were something you had never expected tonight and you were so happy you had given him your charger to borrow.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

My spooky pookies: @lyramundana @2chopsticks2eyes @sweetracha @moonlightndaydreams @linlinaert @caitlyn98s @stolasisyourparent

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gay-cryptidz · 4 months

Text

The Comfort Between Your Scars

Chapter 4

Joel heroically saves his new friend

TW: implied/referenced sexual harassment, bit of violence

It only took until Thursday for Joel to find himself walking through the front doors of his new favourite bar again. He had planned to visit again on Saturday but he was itching to get out of the house so he might as well.

It was surprisingly full for a weekday but a lot more quiet than previously. The only bartender behind the counter was a woman with spiky, short hair, chatting with a group of girls. He thought he recognised her from last time, but he wasn't sure. When she noticed him approaching, she gave him a quick nod.

"What can I get ya?"

"I'll have a beer, thanks"

His eyes scanned all the faces in the bar again. No sign of him.

He nodded his thanks when the bartender handed him his glass.

"Uh, do you know if Desmond's working today?"

"Should be around here somewhere, yeah. Probably gonna suddenly appear out of nowhere any minute now"

"Aight"

She went back to cleaning up, absentmindedly looking around the room. After waiting another minute or two, Joel got up, deciding to use the opportunity to explore the bar a little bit. The building was quite old with a lot of small subsections and corners that formed odd little areas, which really worked in it's favour, providing some sense of privacy to some of the sitting areas and making the place visually interesting.

As he was on his way back to the counter, realising he had completely abandoned his drink there, he vaguely noted two voices sounding from the direction of the restrooms. He couldn't make out what they were saying but it sounded like they were arguing. They quickly died back down but he thought he could make out a loud thump and a clattering sound and figured maybe he should go wash his hands. Just to make sure everything was okay. Before he reached the door, the shouting returned. Only one voice this time.

He managed to dodge the door just in time as a man a little taller than him burst through it, barely paying Joel any mind as he almost ran into him, muttering curses under his breath and covering his bloodied nose with a shaky hand. Before Joel's brain even caught on, the man disappeared behind a corner. What the fuck?

He hurriedly stepped through the door, scanning for whomever the other voice belonged to, and was greeted by a familiar face.

"Oh, hey, fancy seeing you here!", Desmond said casually with a lopsided grin as he was stepping out of one of the stalls.

"Are you okay? What happened?! Should I go get someone?"

Desmond stumbled a little, leaning on the thin wooden frame of the stalls for a moment, before regaining his balance.

"Just had to kick out a rude customer, 's all", he shrugged. "I'm fine"

His voice sounded a little sore.

Joel could only stand there and watch with a deadpan stare as Desmond walked over to the mirrors.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! I JUST got this shirt!"

He examined a blood splatter on his white button-up angrily. Joel panicked briefly before realising it probably wasn't his.

"Hey, my shirt's dirty, can I have yours?", Desmond grinned at him, undoing some of the top buttons to pull the shirt over his head, revealing the turtleneck he wore underneath. Joel realised now that it was sleeveless and cropped. He tried not to get distracted by the way it perfectly hugged his ribcage, defining his figure. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the tattoos scattered across his surprisingly defined arms while Desmond held his no doubt bruised knuckles under the cold water and examined his face.

From where he was standing, he could make out a few different animals and plants, some seemingly random shapes and, the biggest one he could see, what looked to be an animal skull with various flowers and other plants growing from within it on Desmond's left forearm. They all consisted of neat, crisp, black lines, no different colours and only the occasional grey shading. All except for one, a small green dinosaur that looked like a young child's drawing. That one was Joel's favourite.

Desmond had the bruised part of his face turned away from him but he could see it in the mirror. It wasn't too bad but his cheek was puffy and red and there was a small cut on his lip.

"You should probably cool that"

Desmond hummed affirmatively.

"Not ideal considering looking pretty is half my job"

He frowned into the mirror for a second before putting on his faux-lighthearted grin again and turning back towards Joel.

"Well I don't know about you but I could use a drink", he said while walking past him and out the door, the bloodied shirt now draped over his shoulder. Joel followed silently.

The moment she noticed Desmond returning, the other bartender seemed to scan both of them intensely.

"Jesus fucking Christ, I lose track of you for one second and next thing you know there's a guy with a broken nose stomping out, threatening to sue! What happened, you okay?"

"I'm fine, Alex"

Desmond rolled his eyes but smiled at her fondly. Joel, unsure of what to do and not wanting to intrude on their conversation, sat down at the far end of the counter wordlessly. Desmond managed to squeeze past Alex, who was giving him a meaningful glare, assessing the back of the counter, before raising a half-empty bottle of Havana Club as a silent offer to Joel and setting down two glasses between them. A small pout flashed over his face when Alex took the bottle from him.

He tried to fight her off as she grabbed his chin, turning his face to assess the damage. After looking him up and down one more time, she glanced at Joel before gently grabbing Desmond's arm to pull him out of hearing range. Desmond stopped in place after only a step or two and pulled his arm out of her hand.

"You should go home"

Desmond snorted sarcastically.

"Fine, at least sit down in the break room for a while. I'll cover for you, it's not that busy anyway"

"Jesus, Alex, I'm not a child! I said I'm fine!"

Alex gave him a look that Joel wasn't sure how to interpret and pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. Desmond crossed his arms and averted his gaze.

"N- Desmond. Just tell me what happened so I know what to say if someone goes around telling everybody that the bartender attacked him for no reason?"

Desmond shrugged, still not looking at her.

"Just a drunk customer getting a little handsy. Met him last week, guess he was pissed I didn't have time for him today. Backed me into a corner, I gave him one warning and then beat the shit out of him. I've dealt with worse, you know that"

"See, normal people would call that sexual harassment"

"I'd call it a Thursday", he mumbled and turned around with a raise of his eyebrows, going back to preparing drinks for him and Joel. It seemed like she just gave up until she pretended to reach for something next to him from behind.

It happened so fast that Joel wasn't entirely sure what happened but for the first time, he saw a flash of fear on Desmond's face before he rapidly whipped around and grabbed her wrist. They looked at each other wordlessly for a few seconds until he loosened his grip, steadying his breath.

"You really need to stop doing that just to prove a point"

"I will as soon as you stop being too stubborn for your own good"

Desmond mumbled something, grabbing a bottle and walking towards the door with a sign that said 'STAFF ONLY'.

"Desmond"

He put the bottle back behind the bar with an annoyed grumble before opening the door and, making sure he was out of Alex's sight, looking back to Joel, signalling for him to follow. Wouldn't he get in trouble for that? Joel looked at Alex, who had already started putting away glasses and cleaning up.

"Go, I'm not telling anyone", she sighed and waved him toward the still open door. Desmond smiled when he got up and walked over to him.

<< Beginning | < Previous | Next >

#tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller #cryptidz fic #joel miller x oc #joel miller x original character #joel miller fanfiction #slow burn

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eirenical · 11 months

Note

Another WIP question, because your list is full of enticing sounding stories - GYADL Fusheng lives BUT AT WHAT COST

Awwww, thank you! You can ask about as many as you want, @lasenbyphoenix! :D

[If anyone else would like to ask me about a WiP title, here is the list! ^_^]

So, this fic started because I'd read a rumor somewhere (that I have yet to be able to find a source for since OTZ), after reading the book, Z1L requested that they kill off Luo Fusheng at the end of the drama because it would be LESS SAD than the book ending. Which is... saying something considering how sad the drama ending is. O_o;;;

So, I did a little digging (and this is also how I ended up starting to translate the novel, BTW XD) and found out that at the end of the drama, Fusheng DOESN'T die. The war elements of the story are way more important and intense in the novel than the drama, and in the novel, Fusheng and Ruomeng are separated due to the war. So Ruomeng goes to France WITH THEIR SON (no adoption here!) thinking that Fusheng is dead. And Fusheng lives out the rest of his days in Shanghai lonely and depressed. By the time Lin Jingyun comes to Shanghai, I'm pretty sure both of them are dead.

SO. What I wanted to play with in this fic is kind of... merging the two endings, but with the twist of "what if Fusheng and Ruomeng AREN'T dead yet?" And the plan is to take this very sad separation ending and, through Lin Jingyun, get them reunited. ^_^

Snippet below the cut? ^_^

Lin Jingyun finished seating the last of the dinner reservation crowd—a young couple and their two children—and turned to survey the restaurant. They still weren't working at anywhere near full capacity nor had she been able to talk Cheng Musheng out of his reservation-only model, but at least they were making enough money now to cover expenses and hire a few wait staff, bussers, and an actual bartender for the bar—on weekends, at least. It was a start. And Lin Jingyun's new column reviewing restaurants here in Dongjiang and several of the surrounding provinces brought in more than enough to ensure that they could live comfortably, even when times were slow in the restaurant. Musheng was doing better now, spent far fewer of his days in an alcohol soaked haze, but some days were still a struggle, and JIngyun didn't want to put any undue pressure on him, especially when it wasn't necessary, when she could help.

Like today. The host on duty today had had a family emergency, so Jingyun had stepped in to cover for him. And things were going well, if she did say so herself. Everyone had been seated in the correct sections, everyone had menus or were waiting for orders and… wait.

Jingyun narrowed her eyes. Sitting in the middle of one of the closed sections—not just closed for the day, but closed since Jingyun had first come to the place—was an old man. Just… brazenly sitting there like he belonged there. Jingyun hadn't sat him; she'd have remembered seating someone that… unkempt. So, who had? She was just about to walk over there and give that old man a piece of her mind—and throw him out while she was at it—when an arm caught her around the waist and prevented her from moving. She turned to find Cheng Musheng behind her, arm still wrapped securely about her middle.

"What are you doing? I'm just going to go over there and explain the restaurant policy to him!"

Cheng Musheng shook his head, said quietly, "The policy doesn't apply to him. That was one of the only conditions to allow me to purchase the restaurant. Sheng Jian Bao stay on the menu, and he," Musheng nodded in the old man's direction, "Gets to come in for a hot meal and a place to sit whenever he wants, reservation or no." When Jingyun opened her mouth to protest, Musheng just smiled. "Jingyun, don't worry about it. I'll take care of his table directly. It's no bother."

Jingyun stepped back, bemused, as Cheng Musheng approached the old man. He was dressed neatly enough, if too casually for Jingyun's taste given the late hour, but everything he wore looked far too lived in. The coat he wore might once have been a deep olive green but was now closer to grey. His shirt was worn, almost threadbare in places, and his jeans torn and tattered at the cuffs, and fraying at the knees in a way that would have been almost stylish if Jingyun could have convinced herself he'd bought them that way. His hair was just this side of too long, grey curls failing into his eyes every time he leaned forwards, but it was still thick, no signs of balding. And his hands, wrinkled and gnarled, shook where they rested around one of the coffee mugs on the table.

Cheng Musheng bent low in the old man's direction, speaking almost directly into his ear, and Jingyun frowned when she saw him pull a flask from his own pocket, pouring the contents into the old man's mug before bowing to him and backing away. The old man lifted the mug to his lips, downing the entire mug in one long swallow and holding it out for more. There was something almost… pitiful about him, in the way his hands shook, the way his eyes didn't seem to quite focus, in the way he slumped over the mug in his hands. But he smiled when Cheng Musheng bent low to speak to him again, and that smile lifted the years from his face and put a sparkle in his eyes that make Jingyun's breath catch.

He must have been stunning in his youth.

As Cheng Musheng finally moved away from the table, Jingyun followed him towards the kitchen. Clearly there was a story here, and Musheng owed her one.

#granting you a dreamlike life #wip title meme #lasenbyphoenix #eirenical writes things #snippet #luo fusheng #lin jingyun #cheng musheng

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izzy-b-hands · 1 year

Text

Get your bittersweet, severely horny, and NSFW cjizzy here, with references to both ed/jack and jack/izzy being on again, off again in nature. Trans Izzy bc im love trans Izzy.

---

He can never just ask Izzy.

He can with anyone else. Even Ed! Hell, the two of them occasionally communicated wanting to fuck entirely via casual dick grabs (at their own and each other's.)

But Izzy breaks his brain, and he shouldn't like it and he doesn't like it, but he does.

"Hey," Jack slides up by Izzy along the back wall of the bar. "How goes it?"

Izzy glares at him. "What in the fuck sort of question is that?"

He panics. "I missed you."

Izzy's gaze softens a hint. "It's been awhile. Ed was enjoying his time-"

"I heard about how much he enjoyed his time away from his usual shores," Jack grins. "Is that story about him doing a shot off someone's-"

Izzy blushes bright red, and his eyes dart to the floor.

"No," Jack chuckles. "Off of your...Izzy!"

He slaps Izzy's arm. "You still got it; the stick up your ass can be temporarily removed!"

"Thank you for announcing it to everyone," Izzy says wryly. "Anything else I can help you with, or are you just here to catch up?"

It dawns on Jack that Izzy is On The Job right now, and he peeks out around the crowd.

Ed, sitting at a table with an older man, sharing his pipe.

He watches them lazily hand the long pipe back and forth, one of the man's hands hidden in the shadows under the table. However, it only takes one glance at Ed's face to know exactly where that hand is.

"Does he know where you are in here?" Jack asks.

"He does. We've got the usual signal if he wants out in a hurry," Izzy sighs. "You should see the tattoos that man has. I know that's what Ed likes on him, and I can't blame him. Intricate and everywhere, Jack, all interconnected and flowing, and-"

He pushes Izzy against the wall and shoves a leg between his thighs. He doesn't know if Ed is watching, but he hopes he is. Normally jealousy isn't his thing, but Ed's always been different for him.

That, and this is easier than doing what he had envisioned before:

Taking Izzy aside and out of the bar, admitting he wants something slow and soft and he really hates admitting that even though he knows there's no shame in it, but Izzy he doesn't trust anyone else for it except for Ed and Ed doesn't seem likely to say yes-

To wait to kiss him until his words trip over one another and he's nearly out of breath, gasping and begging Izzy to take him to any inn near him, he'll pay for it and anything else Izzy wants (even though he knows Izzy will never take him up on that extra offer.)

He can't say they'd actually make it to said room, because even thinking about it (and more than once jacking off to it) leaves him panting and needy and struggling not to come like it's his first make out session.

"Hang on, we can go somewhere else for this," Izzy says softly. "I've got to find Fang or Ivan or...god what was the name of the new one to replace...oh fuck, I don't remember their names anymore. They die so quickly now."

Jack drops his head into Izzy's shoulder and grinds as best he can against him. He'll have to play this off as being drunk to the other pirates here, even though he's stone cold sober. It's like Izzy heard his thoughts.

"Just go with me over to Ed," Jack says as he forces himself to lift his head. "And tell him something's come up."

"He'll be well aware of 'what's come up' if we walk over there together," Izzy says. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Maybe," Jack whimpers. "Can we fuckin' go already?"

He hangs back while Izzy goes to Ed's table and spins some tale about a scuffle going on outside that needs extra hands to break up (at least that's what Izzy said he'd tell Ed.) His heart is pounding out of his chest, and he can feel everyone's eyes scanning then stopping squarely on his now impossible to hide hard on.

This, he thinks, is what emotions get you. Trying not to come in your pants in a bar, waiting for your on again off again frenemy with benefits to finish lying to his boss/your on again off again friend with benefits. No wonder so many songs about love end in heartbreak.

"We'll sneak out the kitchen," Izzy takes Jack's hand and leads him into the back hall of the bar. "Ed's fine here with his new friend, and Fang is actually on a date himself the next table over, so they're just having a group date now."

"In other words they're deciding which of their two rooms all four of them are going back to later?"

Izzy nods.

"Where were you thinking for us?" Jack asks, resisting the urge to squeeze Izzy's hand as they reach the back door of the bar.

"Behind here, some alley, or we can get a room," Izzy shrugs, and loosens his hand in Jack's grip.

Jack doesn't let go.

Izzy sighs and tries to turn back around to him. "Oh god, Jack..."

"I don't like it anymore than you do!" Jack hisses as he drops Izzy's hand. He doesn't mean it. "Do you know what I did the first month y'all were late getting back around here? I cried! Thinking about Ed, but mostly-"

His words freeze in his throat.

There's confusion on Izzy's face, but it's quickly replaced by...

Fuck. Tears.

There's an apology on his tongue when Izzy pulls him in for a kiss and wraps it in his tongue instead.

"Room?" Jack asks hesitantly when they finally come up for air.

"Room."

"Has anyone ever told you your tits are gorgeous?"

"Yeah," Izzy smirks as he tosses his underwear to join Jack's on the floor. "You, many times."

"Well, let me remind you anyway," Jack says and palms Izzy's tits as Izzy straddles his lap. "Fuck, I missed you."

Izzy's eyes flutter shut. "Say that again."

"I missed you," Jack sits up and holds Izzy in his lap, arms around him and head bent to kiss his collarbone. "I hated every second of it. Thinking about you, or Ed, or both of you, fuck-"

One of Izzy's hands rests at the back of his neck, occasionally grasping at the hair there, and there's the sting of nails being dug into skin at the mention of them both.

"But so often it came back to you, and no one does that to me," Jack continues. "Other than Ed, but that works out for all of us, really."

Izzy grinds down on him hard, then takes Jack's face in his hands. "I...There's something I want to say so badly, but I think this might be over quickly if I do."

"It's gonna be over quick anyway," Jack admits. He's been able to feel his heartbeat in his cock since their kiss in the bar. "But I'm up to chill in here together until we're ready to go again. And maybe once more after that."

"How young do you think we are?" Izzy jokes. "But I think that works. We have the room for the night anyway."

He thinks of anything but how it feels as Izzy lifts up enough then immediately sinks down on his cock. Wet enough for him to slip in without anything else, at least for now, and just as it had been when they'd first fucked as twenty-one things both trying to make Ed jealous.

"You gonna let me in on the secret of what you were burning to say?" Jack asks as he holds Izzy's hips, helping him grind and ride.

Izzy smiles and kisses him, entirely too sweetly for a man that knows how to nearly gut someone with as few as three strokes of his sword.

"Come in me."

He can admit that there are times he's a better follower than a leader, and this is one of them as he shudders and obeys.

"Good to stay in for a minute?" Izzy asks as he gently rocks on Jack's cock.

"I'll stay in as long as I can," Jack pants. "We can just keep fucking then. Plus I really don't want to be anywhere else right now."

Izzy moans and whimpers and clenches around his cock, and he sees stars.

"You aren't allowed to go away for that long ever again," Jack sighs. "I can't go that long without you. I know it's sappy as fuck and I ha-"

"Do you hate it?" Izzy asks, pressing soft kisses all over his face.

"Do you?"

Izzy pauses. "Fucker."

"I certainly am, and I intend to continue to be."

He tries to flip them over without slipping out of Izzy, and celebrates it by burying himself balls deep as soon as Izzy's settled on the bed.

"They said the room would be available for another few nights," Izzy murmurs against his neck, legs wrapped around Jack's waist. "If we find we need more time to make up for the last few months."

"Soon as I can bear to be out of you," Jack replies. "Then I'll go down to the desk and pay to extend it. And if that isn't enough, then I'm coming with y'all for a bit. Ed can deal with hearing us fuck."

"Fuck," Izzy whispers. "Jack-"

"I know, I know, give me another moment or two."

He's just hard enough again to start thrusting, and he can't focus on anything other than that and leaving hickeys all over every inch of Izzy's skin.

He wonders what Izzy would think if he just came with, if Ed does want to be away for a longer time again.

But that's one emotion too much for one night.

#text post #long post #this was....idk what happened i blacked out thinking abt cjizzy and now this exists #im happy with it tho i must say #now im gonna lay down for a minute and just. yeah. breathe akdnkfngnt

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mimicry-if · 2 years

Note

3, 4, and 5 for everyone from the Nell asks please? Thanks!

3. They’re locked out in the rain. What do they do?

Ellie: probably would have an umbrella ready tbh. big enough to share with one other person if needed. Tarali: she checks the weather enough to have umbrellas whenever it rains heavy, but sometimes she's too annoyed at having an extra weight in her bag, so she takes her chances. Tarali would probably have one of those thin rain coats though, and just deal with the rain. Haesoo: run if there aren't people around, or do a very brisk fast walk if people are around until he finds somewhere/something to cover the rain. doesn't like getting wet because it messes up his hair Angel: wouldn't mind it too much, but probably would walk to somewhere with a roof bc they're an older model and they don't wanna test the impermeability of their skin B2: doesn't go outside very often, and checks weather every morning, so they would also be ready. Hates to get their shoes wet.

the rest are under the cut :)

4. What would their ideal first date be?

Ellie: They wouldn't go on a date with a stranger/someone they'd just met, so under the context that the date mate is someone Ellie knew: They would want to do what the other person liked; it's a way of getting to know the date better. It would be a two day date almost? One day of doing what the other person liked and the next morning texting them, seeing if they offer to do what Ellie liked in change. Tarali: just a nice, cute, short date. Maybe at a cafe or movie? Something they can have a conversation, but not too serious. She wouldn't want to spend too much time with someone she's never seen before, so a date where she can have a little conversation and get a little insight on what they like, their reactions to things, etc. would be ideal. something where there's a set time. Haesoo: I don't think Haesoo would want a labeled first date?? (I guess not in the sense of "hey i just met you/was introduced to you in a romantic context and this is our first time meeting") It's more likely that he would gradually spend more time with the person before he confesses/receives confession. Then he would try to do half of what the other person wants, and half of what he wants (go to botanical garden)

Angel: a walk around the city, preferably in the afternoons/evenings, inching towards night. would go to a bar or two, maybe an arcade or go to areas where there's live music. They enjoy the vibe better at night, and they want to see the other person in an almost fantastical filter.

B2: something more structured, like a dinner date. Similar to Tarali, B2 would want somewhere so they can have a conversation with the other person. Would bring flowers. Would like to be given flowers. Unlike Tarali, would want something less casual. They want confirmation that the person is willing to meet them further. Wants to show off manners, so B2 would walk you home.

5. If they matched with someone on a dating app, what would they use as their opening line?

(Lore?? but: I'm imagining that dating apps aren't really popular in Mimicry's setting, maybe like a dating consultant would arrange a match if people wanted too?? But if the characters lived in our world it would be:)

Ellie: (like above, I imagine Ellie won't go on a dating app, but if they do, they would thoroughly message the person back and forth for quite a while) "Hey! What does [something on their profile] mean?" Tarali: "How would you describe yourself in three words?" or "Why did you match me?" Haesoo: he would wait for the person who matched him to say something first; if he matched them, then: "When do you want to meet?" Angel: no dating apps just asks for people's numbers off the streets they are a menace (but their pickup line is: you look like someone I'd miss, can I talk to you before it's too late?) B2: wouldn't go on a dating app, under any circumstances.

#ellie mergersa #tarali bhujel #haesoo shin #angel valletta #b2 #mint answers #prompt asks #im so sorry i know b2 sounds so boring right now #but i promise character development they're the one i plan on having an internal journey throughout the story #also sorry on that dating app one i feel like those answers aren't what the question quite asked #just can't imagine any of them going all smooth cheesy pickup line #except angel

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itsapeterthing · 3 years

Text

Who’s She? || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x doctor!reader

summary: when sam gets injured during a mission and isn’t able to go to a hospital, bucky brings him and natasha to his own home to get cared for by his girlfriend, y/n, who he’s been keeping a secret.

a/n: this is my first time writing for bucky! reblogs and replies are super appreciated! also here i'm going to pretend that bucky didn’t get snapped so you started dating during the blip and natasha didn’t die

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of blood, sam getting shot, fluff

masterlist || request

“Shit.”

He followed the sound of the gunshot to another open room within the warehouse. He watched as the group they had been fighting fled the building, hopping into their trucks and speeding away before he even had the chance to process what was happening in front of him never mind go after them. When the group dispersed out of the room he finally saw what all the commotion had been about- Sam was lying on the floor with Natasha kneeling above him at his side.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, jogging towards where the two of them were in the center of the large, open room.

Natasha looked up, her hands feeling around Sam’s shoulder, blood coating her hands.

“There’s no exit wound.” She told him finally, standing up. “We have to get him out of here.”

Bucky watched as Sam groaned, still lying on the ground, with his hand putting pressure on his shoulder.

“So, what?” Bucky asked her. “We take him to a hospital?”

Nat shook her head. “We weren’t supposed to be here. If we take him to a hospital now... they’ll find out.” She turned back to Sam. “Feel good enough to walk?” She asked him.

“I don’t know.” Sam said. “How far are we going?”

Natasha shrugged, placing her fist underneath her chin, assessing the situation.

“Well,” She told him. “We can’t go to a hospital... but I could try my best in the back of the van.”

At that, Sam pushed himself up onto his elbows with a look of fear in his eyes as he turned to look between Natasha and Bucky.

“You’re joking right?” He grimaced. “There’s nothing else we can do?”

Watching the situation play out before him, Bucky swore to himself knowing what he was about to do and partly regretting the decision before he even made it. As much as Sam could piss him off, he knew better than to let him suffer under Nat attempting to stitch him up. He couldn’t let him go through that when there was a better way.

“Shit.” Bucky shook his head, reaching his hand out to Sam to pull him up. “Fine. I know somewhere we can go.”

Natasha and Sam looked at each other, quirking their eyebrows, questioning how Bucky of all people would know somewhere to go in a situation like this. Not in a position to argue, however, Sam took his hand, standing to his feet.

“So... where are we headed?”

It had been a half an hour long drive before Bucky finally pulled the car over to the side of the road outside of an apartment building. Natasha and Sam followed his lead as he walked inside, up the stairs and unlocked one of the doors with his set of keys.

Hearing the key turning in the lock and commotion outside your apartment door, you spun around from your seat on the couch watching as you boyfriend, Bucky walked in the door of your shared apartment.

“You were gone for so long you almost had me wor-”

Before you could finish your sentence you watched as none other than Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff made their way through the door of your apartment. Although you had never been introduced, you recognized them immediately as members of the famous group of Avengers and coworkers of your boyfriend.

You sprung up from your seat immediately upon seeing these unfamiliar familiar faces. That’s when you noticed the blood coating the upper half of Sam’s suit and Natasha’s hands. Your eyes shot open wide, turning to face Bucky.

“James?” You said his name slowly.

“He got shot. There was nowhere else we could go, Y/n.” He told you. “You can fix it right?”

You made your way around the couch, rushing to Sam’s side and guiding him to sit on the cushions, continuing your conversation with Bucky all the while.

“I work in the maternity ward, Buck.” You reminded him.

Sam’s mouth dropped and Natasha, still standing in the doorway watched the conversation playing out between you and Bucky, still unsure of who you were.

Sam angled his neck to face Bucky from his seat on the couch. “You took me to a gynecologist?”

“She’s a doctor!” Bucky shouted at Sam, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“A maternity doctor!” Sam shouted back. “Do I look like-”

“If you don't want her help then-”

“Stop it!” You shouted, breaking up the useless, unnecessary conversation between the two men. They both went silent at the sound of your raised voice, turning back to face you. “Buck, go get my kit from the bathroom, okay?”

He quickly nodded, heading out of the room. As he did, you turned to Natasha who was still standing in the doorway.

“We need to get this suit off. I can’t work through it.”

She nodded, making her way across the living room, kneeling in front of Sam. Pulling a knife out of the holster at the side of her leg, she began slicing through the shoulder of his suit so that the two of you could take it off without raising his arms, affecting the wound.

When Bucky strolled back into the room, carrying your kit in his hands, Sam turned to him while Natasha continued to slice at his suit.

“So... how come she gets to call you ‘Buck’ and I can't?” He asked.

You smiled as you opened the kit, pulled gloves over your hands and set up your materials at your side. Slipping the jacket off of his shoulders, Bucky replied.

“Because she’s my girlfriend.”

A silence hung in the room for a moment as Natasha and Sam took their time to process the words that had just come out of Bucky’s mouth. It was almost impossible for them to comprehend that he had a life outside of the business they got into or that he could care for someone in such a way. The idea of someone like Bucky living out a domestic life in his free time was unbelievable.

“Wait your... but you...” Sam stumbled through his words, turning to look between you and the grumpy, 106 year-old man he had gotten to know over the past few years. Finally he broke into a smile, chuckling. “No way.”

You laughed, grabbing a seat from your dining table and pulling it up to Sam, plopping yourself down in it. Pulling your tray of materials towards him, you smiled. “Yes way. Good to know he’s mentioned me.”

You looked over your shoulder and winked at your boyfriend who was leaning against the wall behind you, his arms crossed.

“I’m just protecting you, doll.” He smirked. “You know that.”

Natasha tore off the last piece of the suit, stepping away from Sam, sinking herself into a nearby armchair.

“Gross.” She commented at the sound of the pet name Bucky held for you.

Laughing at her comment, you leaned forward, a cotton swab with numbing jelly in your hand.

“I know, baby. I’m just messing with you.” You told your boyfriend before turning your attention back to Sam. When you noticed him eyeing you warily, you said. “You can trust me. I may work in the maternity ward, but I know what I’m doing.”

He then nodded and watched as you pressed the swab against his shoulder holding it in place. As you continued applying a light pressure, Sam finally took in your surroundings, now noticing the framed photos scattered along the walls and surfaces of you and Bucky, of Bucky and Steve from back in the day and of you and- who Sam assumed were- your friends. He didn’t know how he didn’t see all of them when he first came in, being able to realize that you and Bucky shared the space as a home.

“How did you even lock this down?” Sam asked, glancing up towards Bucky.

Natasha, kicking back in her seat laughed. “Rogers always said you were ‘quite the ladies’s man’ back in the good ol’ days, Barnes. Who knew you still had it in you?”

Rather than play into their game, Bucky rolled his eyes, sitting down on the coffee table, grumbling to himself.

Sam turned back towards you. “So what did it?”

You glanced at your wrist watch, pulling the swab off of Sam’s shoulder, tossing it to your side and instead picking up what Sam thought to have looked like a sort of tweezer as he watched.

“What do you mean?” You asked, a light smile playing on your lips.

You knew this conversation was making your boyfriend want to kick everyone out of your shared appointment and that the only thing stopping him was that you were currently taking a bullet out of one of their shoulders.

“Like what did it, you know?” Sam asked, laughing. “Was it the staring? It was the staring wasn't it? He stares all the god damn time. It pisses me right off.”

You grinned, continuing the conversation as you slipped the tweezer into Sam’s bullet wound, hoping to distract him. Once you pulled the bullet out successfully and dropped it onto the table besides you, you grabbed the materials to stitch the hole closed.

“He does stare a lot, doesn’t he?” You laughed. “You’re right though actually. I caught him staring at me at a bar and slipped him my number. I figured he was too nervous to ask for it. That was what? Two years ago now?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend.

"Yeah something like that." Bucky replied, nonchalantly.

He was trying to act casual in front of his friends. That night was two years and three months ago to the day and he knew it when you asked. Bucky Barnes wished he could forget about a lot of things in his extended lifetime, but until the day he dies he swore to himself he would never forget the night he met you. Seeing you sitting across the bar from him changed his life for the better and he never wanted that to end. So much so that little did you know that he had bought a ring for you six months ago with the help of his best friend and most trusted confidant, but until the right moment arises it continues to sit in his locked safe in your shared bedroom.

“God, man, I can’t believe you kept this a secret for that long!” Sam exclaimed before cringing as he watched you slip the needle into his skin. “And to think- I thought we were friends.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes. “We’re coworkers.”

“You know what? That hurt.” Sam shook his head, pausing, before turning back to Natasha. “You’re pretty quiet. This antique has had a secret girlfriend for two years and you’ve got nothing to say?”

At his comment, Natasha stopped staring at the pictures on the wall, instead turning back to the group.

“Two years huh?” She asked. “That means Rogers knew didn’t he?”

Suddenly Bucky was very interested in staring at his hands as a silence washed over the room. You knew Steve leaving to travel back to the past a few months ago was still a sensitive subject for your boyfriend. Despite the fact that the other Avengers- or former Avengers- knew nothing of your existence, you had met Steve more times than you could count and you knew how important his friendship was to Bucky.

“Uh... yeah.” Bucky answered finally, clearing his throat.

Saving your boyfriend from the awkward conversation surrounding a touchy subject, you finished the last of your stitches on Sam, leaning back in your seat, pulling off your gloves and dropping the materials at your side.

“There!” You announced. “All done! Just try not to move that spot too much for the next few weeks, okay?”

“That’s easier said than done.” Sam said, smiling, glancing at his stitched up wound. “Not everyone just has a metal arm that can do the job for them.”

You laughed, maneuvering your way around the couch and into the kitchen to rinse the remainders of blood from your hands in the sink. As the warm water ran on top of your hands, you felt the unmistakable cold touch of vibranium wrap around your waist. As you scrubbed your hands in the sink, a hint of a smile gracing your face, you felt your boyfriend’s other hand tuck the piece of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear.

“Thanks for doing that. I know I put you in a weird spot.” He almost whispered, leaving a light kiss on your cheek.

You heard the sound of Sam laughing at something Natasha had just said in the other room and shrugged.

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck.” You said. “Honestly... I kind of liked it. Not that Sam was shot or anything obviously- that’s awful and it’s terrifying that if it were somewhere else he could’ve died- but it’s good to feel... I don’t know... needed like that.”

You turned off the faucet and the second you did, your boyfriend handed you the towel, unwrapping his arm from around your waist and stepping back to look at you.

“But you are needed?” He said, leaning on the countertop. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of this or anything without you.”

You shrugged again, drying your hands.

“I know, Bucky. That’s not...” You sighed. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t know... it just kind of feels... cool.”

“Cool?” He asked, quirking his eyebrows and grinning at you while he said it.

You groaned.

“Yes! It made me feel cool!” You said, throwing the rag on the counter. “You guys are legitimate superheroes. All of you live like you’re in some action movie most days so yeah- it made me feel kind of cool to be included. Maybe you don’t notice it after all this time, but it felt exciting to me.”

He flashed you a smile, pushing himself off of the counter to rest his hands on your waist.

“So, you like heroes, huh?” He asked, clearly teasing you.

Although he was flirting by attempting to tease you for what you had just said, he admittedly felt his heart fill a bit more knowing that you thought of him as a hero.

You smiled, pulling on the dog tags that hung around his neck, teasing him right back.

“No, but I do like 106-year-old grumpy old men who have me stitch up their superhero friends.”

“I’m not grumpy.” He pouted.

“The first step is acceptance, babe.” You fake pouted, stepping back from his arms and lightly tapping him on the cheek. “Now go ask your superhero friends if they want anything to drink.”

Just as you finished your sentence you heard a shout from the other room.

“I’ll have a water if you don’t mind!”

At the sound of his voice you and Bucky turned towards each other, eyes wide.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Bucky called from the kitchen back to Sam who was sat in the living room, separated by a wall.

“Thin walls!” Sam called.

“I’d hate to be your neighbors!” Natasha added.

As tough as your boyfriend was, you watched as he became flustered, knowing the others had just heard him flirting with you in the kitchen. You laughed, patting him on the shoulder before grabbing two waters from the fridge and making your way back into the living room, handing one to each of your uninvited guests. Bucky followed behind you as you plopped yourself back down on the couch watching a conversation between Natasha, Bucky and Sam unfold.

While Bucky and Sam had a harmless argument about the mission they had just been on, you felt a soft pat on your arm and turned to see Nat facing you.

“About what you said in the kitchen-” She began.

Remembering what you had told Bucky in the kitchen minutes before about them being movie-like superheroes, you grew embarrassed.

“Oh God! I’m sorry. You really don’t have to mention it-” You said, cutting her off.

“No, seriously.” She told you. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have been able to fix him up like that. It was nice to have you there.”

As badly as you wanted to play it cool in front of her, you couldn’t help but smile. As embarrassing as you thought it was for them to hear everything you told your boyfriend in confidence, you meant every word you had said and it meant a lot for Natasha to acknowledge you in such a way.

“Thanks. That means a lot.” You smiled.

When you turned back in your seat, you noticed that the conversation between Sam and Bucky had ended and that they both were turned towards you and Natasha.

“Yeah, thanks for that, Y/n. I think I would have rather bled out then let her fix it.” Sam added and Natasha scoffed. “Hey, now that we know you exist we could use you! It’d be nice to have someone keep this robot in check.” He shrugged at your boyfriend.

Whether it was because he was genuinely enjoying himself or it was just because he was beside you, Bucky chuckled at Sam’s comment, stretching his arm over your shoulders as the two of you sat on the couch chatting with the two of them.

“I’d like that.” You laughed, leaning comfortably into your boyfriend. “Oh! Does that mean I can get a metal arm too-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, your boyfriend cut you off.

“Absolutely not.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Those Who Wait

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader Word Count: 4,985 Tags: 18+, Loss of virginity, Insecure reader, Fingering, Protected sex Summary: When you let it slip to the team that you've never had sex, they make it their mission to help you find someone who will make your dreams a reality. *Requested by anons!

Link to A03 or read below! “I don’t know how many times I have to reiterate this, but I am not a virgin,” Spencer says, palms up, and it’s clear this is something he’s reminded the team of on more than one occasion. You’re on the jet on the way home from a case, all of you gathered around chattering mindlessly to decompress, with the exception of Hotch, who is in his usual seat, working on his computer.

“And I never said I was talking about you,” you reply, with a tone just shy of smartass. You regret bringing it up already, because this will open the door to a topic you did not want to discuss with the team, ever, but you can’t put the cat back in the bag.

“Hold on. Are you…?” Emily grins a little, but her face drops into a frown when she notices the change in your demeanor, the tension in your shoulders. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, at all.”

“You’re a virgin? Really? You’re almost thirty,” Morgan says, leaning forward to look at you, and you nod, shrug. “Is it a religious thing? Saving yourself for marriage?” You scoot back in your seat, blow out a breath, use the casual posture to try to mask your discomfort.

“Nope, it’s not a religious thing. I’m just waiting for someone who’s worth it.”

“If you’re waiting for the perfect person,” JJ says, folding forward, hands clasped in front of her, “you’re going to be waiting forever.”

You sigh, because this is exactly the reason you didn’t want to bring this up.

“I’m not waiting for the perfect person. For a long time, I didn’t have time to date, and I was—you know, satisfied, without it, so it wasn’t an issue.” Your cheeks heat a little when you say it, and you rub a hand over the back of your neck. “But lately I’ve kind of shifted toward wanting to have sex, to find someone to make the connection with. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but I do have standards.”

“Don’t put pressure on yourself to do it. You’ve waited this long, why rush into things?” Emily says with a soft smile, and you reciprocate, grateful.

“I actually think it might be better if she just goes for it,” Morgan disagrees. Why aren’t you surprised? “Get it in, get it on, and get it over with. Then you won’t feel like it’s hanging over your head.”

“I’m trying. It’s not that I’m not trying. I’m going on dates; they’re all just really, really bad dates—like, the worst I’ve ever been on.”

“How many dates?” JJ asks with an arched brow, and you grimace.

“In the last month? Twelve.” Morgan laughs out loud, and you kind of want to punch him.

“Twelve first dates in the last month and you can’t get laid? Where are you finding these guys?”

“This stupid dating app Garcia convinced me to sign up for. They all seem fine on their profiles—”

“Oh, no, you can’t go by their profiles. Complete bullshit,” Emily says, and you throw your hands up in frustration.

“How else am I supposed to know what they’re like? They’re strangers.”

“Your first time shouldn’t be with a stranger.” You’re a little surprised when it’s Spencer who chimes in; everyone turns to look at him. “You’re a lot like me, and I know that I was nervous and insecure, and waiting for the right person made it a really great experience for me. I think you should wait for someone you know will make it meaningful.”

“She’s going to be waiting ‘til she’s eighty,” Morgan says with a grin, but he pats you on the back. “And if you do, I guess that’s okay. Not every guy can be a catch like yours truly.”

“Oh, spare us,” JJ says with a laugh, and you move on to other topics for the rest of the flight.

When you go to grab your luggage before heading back to the office, it’s just you and Hotch left on the jet; he’s been quiet for most of the trip, but when he steps up next to you, he says your name, low, to get your attention.

“I just wanted you to know, you deserve to be treated well… your first time. You should wait for someone you know will make it meaningful, like Reid said.” You just look at him for a moment, not sure what to say.

Part of you knows what you want to say. You want to say, is it worth it? You want to say, how will I know? You want to say, would you make it meaningful?

What you say is, “Thanks, Hotch.” He nods, hands you your bag, then takes his, closes the luggage compartment; he gestures for you to go ahead of him, and the two of you exit the plane.

You all go back to the office. Everyone hangs around for a few minutes, but Hotch goes up to his office, turns on the lights, sits down at his desk, and takes off his jacket. He’s in for a long night, then. You’re just getting ready to leave when Garcia strolls over, bag in hand.

“Hey, girl. How was that date the other night? Haven’t gotten to talk to you about anything other than murder the last few days.” She notices that your eyes are on Hotch’s office, looks up at him and back down at you. “Is everything okay, hon?” The concern in her voice snaps you out of it, and you look to her, smile.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. The date was not, though. I’ll walk out with you.” You grab your things, throw your jacket over your arm, and take one last look up at Hotch’s office before making your way to the parking garage. You go on seven more dates over the course of three weeks that are a complete waste of time and effort. Who knew having what you consider relatively basic standards would make losing your virginity so goddamn difficult? You know you’re not a knockout like JJ or Emily, and sometimes your nerves get the best of you, but you’ve been pretty charming, funny, all dolled up and putting out clear, but not desperate, DTF vibes.

The longer your quest drags on, the more embarrassing it gets. It actually becomes a part of the morning meeting: as soon as you enter the briefing room each day, Morgan raises his eyebrows, and you shake your head. He’s keeping a tally. You want to die a little bit.

Finally, you’re sitting at home one evening when you get the call from JJ that you’ll be heading to Miami for a case first thing the next morning. You thank her for letting you know, but before she hangs up, she says, “Bring a dress, something sexy. If we have an extra night, we’re going to a club and getting you laid.”

You stammer, a little embarrassed at the directness, but you pack a short, light, red dress, something appropriate for a humid Miami night, on the off chance you’ll actually get to go out.

The case is solved in a day and a half, and you are going to stay the night again, so JJ and Emily make it their mission to get you ready for a night out, and Morgan and Spencer make it their mission to scope out your potential partners and check for red flags before you even get close to them.

It’s sweet, kind of wholesome, when you ignore the fact they’re trying to get you fucked.

You have a drink at the outdoor bar, try to loosen up a little; the place is swarming with gorgeous, supermodel looking women with very little clothing on, breasts and ass everywhere you turn, and you feel inadequate, self-conscious in your little red dress. You freaking hate Miami.

You get glances from Morgan and Spencer, nudges of encouragement from Emily and JJ—even Hotch is around somewhere, part of the red flag detail, which you hadn’t expected—and you’re so close to giving up when a song comes on that you know and absolutely love.

Sex is outside your realm of knowledge, but dancing you can do, and you wrap your hand around Emily’s wrist and tell her you want to. JJ takes your drinks, sets them on the table, and the three of you head out to the dance floor.

It’s clear they didn’t expect much of your dancing, because they looked surprised as hell that you know how to work your body to the music, putting your arms on JJ’s shoulders and moving against her. She looks up, grins at Emily over your head, and cocks her eyebrow, impressed.

“Not that innocent after all,” she says, and you toss your head lightly, laugh.

“Said I was a virgin, not that I was innocent.” The three of you dance together, and you’re approached by several guys who try to get behind you, in between you, closer anyway they can. JJ and Emily are selective with who they entertain and who they give the brush off, and you’re grateful, because despite the outcome, you’re having a good time, and you never would have done this alone.

Eventually, a man comes over, wants to dance with you specifically; the girls exchange looks, give you a nudge, and you put your arms around his neck, let him rest his hands on your hips.

He’s pretty hot, you have to admit, a little under six feet tall, with dark hair and eyes and a nice smile, and dancing against him feels good. If it’s any indication of what if would be like to have sex with him, you’d let him take you home in a heartbeat. Of course, it’s been pre-planned that you’ll go back to your room upstairs if you hook up, so your people are nearby in case anything goes wrong; it’s maybe a little weird, the thought of your coworkers being cheerleaders while you lose your virginity, but what about this isn’t weird? At this point, you’re just going with the flow.

This guy is nice enough, doesn’t go straight for your ass like other guys you danced with, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing; you pull back, get his attention so you can tell him thanks for the dance, but you’re going to go back to your friends.

You don’t get a chance to say that, because you’re guided away from him by two strong hands on your waist. You turn, ready to tell someone off for getting handsy with you, but it’s Hotch, so the defensive posture you’d slipped into softens.

“Oh, hey. What’s going on? Is everything okay?” you ask loudly; his expression is serious, his brows pulled down in a frown. He shakes his head, leans in closer.

“I can’t let you go through with that—with him,” Hotch says in your ear, still hard to hear over the thrum of the music, and you put your hand on his shoulder, lean up so you can speak into his.

“What? Why not?” you ask, breathless from dancing and the heat. “JJ and Emily thought he seemed alright.” You didn’t actually want to go through with it, but that’s not important at the moment, not when Hotch is clearly trying to get some kind of point across.

“It’s not that, I just—you deserve better.” You frown, not sure you heard him right, and one of the hands on your waist moves lower; he presses you closer. “I don’t know if you would consider it, but I could do it. I could be the one.”

“The one?” you breathe. You need to hear him say it to confirm it’s not all in your head, that you aren’t taking anything out of context.

“The one you sleep with. The one to show you how good it can be. The one who will treat you well.”

You take a step back, have to see his face; is this pity, kindness, genuine interest? Because for the last few weeks, after every bad date, you’ve come back to the thought of Hotch kissing you, touching you, taking you apart. You know his hands are capable, you know he is kind and gentle, and it’s only the thought of him that keeps you from leaving with the first guy to show you attention. You’re so frustrated, never more desperate to feel than you have been since he told you you deserved something good.

He swallows when you look up at him, and your heart races.

“If you want to, I want to. No pressure if you don’t,” he assures you. What he’s saying is so unexpected, but so perfect, and you nod, wet your lips, lean back up on your toes to put your mouth to his ear.

“I want to. I trust you.” Feeling bold, you brush a hand over the back of his head, press your lips to the side of his neck. “Please?”

“Are you sure?” He sounds as tense as you feel, holds you tightly, like he needs to make sure this is really happening. You cling to him just as tightly, nod your head against his throat, and he squeezes your waist, ushers you across the crowded patio and inside the cool air of the hotel. You both sigh, because it’s quieter, more comfortable, and your gaze lingers over his body until he pulls you in for a gentle kiss.

You’ve done your fair share of kissing, and Hotch is so good at it, his hands on your face, his lips softer than you would have imagined, but firm in the way they press against yours. When the kiss breaks, you bring your hands to his wrists, breathing heavily, and then lean in to follow up with a kiss of your own.

He smiles softly, and you smile back, then slip your hand into his and let him lead you to the elevator. You’re not sure if it’s the night of dancing, the heat, the thrill of not only having sex after waiting so long, but having sex with Hotch, or what, but you feel changed; you’re a grown adult, you know that losing your virginity doesn’t mean much, doesn’t change who you are fundamentally, but the thought of experiencing it gives you a stomach full of butterflies in the best way possible.

“Would you like to go to my room, or yours?” he asks when you board the elevator, and he presses the button for the third floor. You plan to say it doesn’t really matter to you, but a thought crosses your mind.

“We can go to mine. I have condoms.” You’re not shy about using protection, know it’s just plain stupid not to, when you've been essentially searching for a new partner whose sexual and medical history you know little to nothing about, but telling Hotch makes your face heat a little. “I bought a variety pack—you know, when I started going on the dates.”

“Good. That’s good,” he says, nodding, and then he bends to kiss you, brushes his fingers over your jaw. “How are you feeling? Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Good,” you clarify. You feel so much better than okay you barely know how to say it, but there is one thing you didn’t think to ask before. “Hey, are you… are you attracted to me?” You look him over curiously, and the elevator dings; you step forward to get off, walk down the hall, but Hotch puts his hand out to stop the door, which stops you.

“I’m attracted to you. You’re gorgeous, and ever since you mentioned on the jet that this was something you were looking forward to… I can’t deny I’ve thought about being the one you share it with. Are you attracted to me?” You wet your lips, ready to reply with an emphatic yes, but he must take it for hesitation. “I understand why you want to do this, but if you aren’t attracted to me—it’s important that you want this with me, not just that you want this. I don’t want us to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

His words make you lose a little of the nervousness you were still holding onto, and you decide to show, not tell, how you feel about him; you wrap your fingers in his shirt and guide him down for a kiss that is hotter than before, still soft and slow, but wet and deep, too. After a moment, the elevator dings—likely due to the door remaining open for so long—and you break apart, breathless, and exit the elevator to head down the hall to your room.

Your interaction isn’t exactly awkward at first, but a little stilted: you both take off your shoes, and you grab waters from the mini fridge, hand him one and take a long sip of the other. It’s almost as if you are delaying the inevitable, but it’s not because this isn’t something you want to do; if pressed, you’d say the idea of having this time with Hotch is actually something you want to savor, not rush into too quickly. You aren’t delaying, but prolonging, and eventually you have to snap yourself out of it and just enjoy what you have while you have it.

You cross the room, walk over to him, and put your hands on his stomach, look up at him with clear eyes. His fingers ghost over your bare arms, and for a moment you just share breath, a lingering stare, until you stretch up to meet him in the middle for a deep kiss.

Hotch moves his hands to your hair, tips your head up, and you wind your arms around his back, pulling him closer and stepping forward until his legs hit the foot of the bed. He is warm, broad, solid beneath your hands, and you push them up the back of his shirt, skim them over his skin.

“Can I take this off?” you breathe when you separate, and he nods, helps you work it over his head and drops it to the floor.

Your hands rest on his stomach again, glide up his chest, and when you kiss this time, he turns you so your back faces the bed, eases you onto it. He lays between your legs, kisses until you’re both panting with need, and when you lean your head back to catch your breath he moves his mouth to your neck, trails it slowly up, then down, softly bites at the base of your throat. You hum softly, clutch his shoulders, bring your knees up around his waist.

“God, I want you.” He pulls back, looks down at you, his chest heaving, and you nod, brush fingers through his hair. “I want you, Hotch. Please touch me.”

He begins with the slow drag of big, careful hands down the outsides of your thighs, over your hips, pushing your dress up around your waist. You can’t stop looking at his face, serious and handsome, even though the rest of him is perfect too; you like that he looks affected by this, like it means something to him as well, like you’re not alone in feeling a bit overwhelmed. He moves his hands to the soft insides of your thighs, squeezes them, then leans up on his knees so he can pull your panties off, sets them on the bed beside him.

“I’m just going to rub. Tell me if it’s too much, not enough.” He curls over you for a kiss and slides his fingers along your pussy, three of them, long and thick. You close your eyes immediately, because the first touch is so good, his fingertips gliding through your slick and spreading it over your lips and clit; you are both breathing heavily, mouths hovering over each other, and you clutch at his biceps while he rubs where you are soft and aching.

It’s not that it’s not enough—you could get off this way, easily, you’re halfway there already—but you want more, imagine yourself clamping down around his fingers, digging your nails into him when you come.

“Can you…” You trail off, bite your lip, and he smooths a palm over your cheek, your hair.

“Ask me. Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I want to give it to you.” A soft, needy noise leaves your throat, and he presses his lips to yours, slips the pads of two fingers over your clit, rubs circles against it. “Is it this? Is this what you want?” You wet your lips, think no but yes, move a hand to his face.

“Can you put your fingers inside me? I want to feel you inside.” Your voice trembles over it, not used to being so direct, not used to asking for what you want, and his answering kiss is deep, wet; he pulls back to look at your face as he presses one finger inside, and you feel your expression shift, from desperate to intensely pleasured, your mouth open, eyes wide. “Hotch, oh.” He pulls it out slowly, nearly all the way, and pushes it back in, rubs your cheek, brushes his thumb over your lips.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Good is an understatement, and you clench around him, slide your hands down his forearms, nod. “Good. It’s okay if you’re just quiet, but if you’re nervous about how you’ll sound, don’t be. I’d like to hear how you’re feeling.” Another reason to feel so good about this—because you are self-conscious of the way you’ll sound, and you should have known he would pick up on it, try to ease your insecurities. You wet your lips, nod, and he moves the finger slowly in and out, adds another when you ask him to.

“Mmm. Mmm.” You bring a hand to your covered breast, squeeze it, and he moves to push your dress up further, to bare it, maybe, but you tense, then instantly feel silly.

“What is it?” he asks gently, running his hand over your stomach instead, and your muscles relax, you sigh.

“Just a little self-conscious… about my breasts—especially after everything I saw downstairs,” you say, huffing a laugh, and he chuckles, nods.

“Miami is a bit much. But you’re so beautiful, sweetheart, just as you are, and it’s clear they bring you pleasure. If you’ll let me, I’d like to take your dress off all the way, touch them… kiss them.” The prospect sounds so tempting—your nipples are sensitive beneath your own hands, but under his? His mouth?

Your breathing picks up again, and you nod, rest your arms over your head so he can pull it up and off. You swallow, trembling and bare beneath him, and he steps off of the bed to push the rest of his clothes off, too; you know you feel vulnerable, so maybe he sensed it, wanted to make you more comfortable? Either way, he is gorgeous, and you’re so grateful to be doing this with him.

“Where are the condoms?” he asks, bending over the edge of the bed to kiss you with a hand on your cheek. You direct him to your bag, and he opens the box, takes out the one he needs, walks back to you; you lean up on your elbows to watch him intently as he tears the package open, rolls it onto his cock. When he climbs on top of you again, when he pushes your knees gently apart and makes himself at home between them, you shudder; you can feel his dick for the first time, hard against your thigh, and he leans in to kiss your throat, your shoulders, and eventually, your breasts.

His mouth covers one, his hand covers the other, and you gasp when his lips close around your nipple, suck softly. “Hotch, oh my god.” You lift your hips, looking for contact, and he removes the hand from your breast, uses it to line his cock up so it can slide over your pussy as you rock against him, wet, perfect pressure, as he pulls your breast more roughly into his mouth, nibbles it.

You arch your back, pushing your chest closer to him, and he moans, slowly glides his hands over your throat, into your hair. He shifts the angle of his hips, and he slips out from between you, making you sigh at the loss. Now that you’ve felt him, it’s maddening to be without, and you wet your lips, touch his face.

“I’m ready.” He leans in to kiss your cheeks, your chin, rubs his nose softly against yours, and you meet for a deep, slow, wet kiss.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Please.” You move your hands to his waist, guide him closer, and he pushes slowly inside, lets you get used to the stretch it brings. It just feels good, not really a new sensation, since you’ve put toys inside before, but he is so much thicker, more satisfying to feel along your sensitive channel, his body warm on top of yours.

“How does it feel?” he murmurs, lips grazing yours, and you curl your hand around the back of his neck, just kiss him, enjoy the fullness and the slide of his tongue.

“So good. You can move,” you say, and your voice sounds strained, but it’s with arousal, not discomfort. You hitch your knees up higher, put your hands on his arms, pull him in so he’ll know that. “Want to feel you, Hotch.” You share breath for a few moments, and then he pulls back and thrusts forward, repeats it a few times, slow and steady, looking into your eyes.

You moan, carefully roll your hips in time with his, and he pumps inside a little deeper, a little quicker. You grip his arms, move your hands to his face, unsure what part of him you want to touch, anchor yourself against. He leans down for a kiss and you press your fingers to his cheeks, kiss him more passionately, less timidly than you’ve been so far. He groans against your mouth, and you pant as your bodies work together; it’s almost instinctual, the need to take him deeper, to meet, thighs hard against each other.

“Are you okay?” he asks, sliding his hands over your sides, hips, and you nod, gasp when he shifts up, gets his mouth on your breast again, kisses it wetly while his cock glides inside. That’s enough to have you moaning, loudly, head back, your hands on his body now, to feel his muscles flex while he thrusts inside you.

“Hotch, oh. Feels so good, I—” He bites down, lightly, just the edge of his teeth, and your legs snap tight against his body, shaking while you come around him. “Oh, oh. Mmm.” Your muscles contract so hard he grunts, your pussy all but trapping him there, and he grinds against you, grips your thighs.

“So perfect. You feel so good coming for me, so tight.” You ride out the pleasure, rolling your hips against his, and when you’re a little looser he thrusts again, slides an arm behind yours, his hand carefully around the back of your neck, kisses you until he comes, groaning, in your ear.

You look up at him as he gathers himself, wets his lips, and you curl around him for a hug; he holds you tightly, rubs gentle palms over your body, murmurs that you’re incredible and he hopes you know that was special. It's the connection you were looking for, intimacy, and you are so incredibly happy you found it, even if you did find it in the unlikeliest of places.

You lay together for a few minutes before he pulls out, ties off the condom, takes it into the bathroom, and then you go in to pee. You look yourself over in the mirror—again, fully aware that losing your virginity changes almost nothing—but you can’t help feeling like a missing piece has locked into place.

If makes you wonder if the missing piece maybe wasn’t sex, but Hotch.

When you head back into the other room, you expect him to be dressed, or at least getting dressed, but he’s laying back on the bed, covers turned down, body still bare—what you can see of him is bare, anyway, because crisp white sheets cling to his waist, make him look only that much more delicious as he waits for you.

You suddenly ache with desire again, touch your chest at the rush of emotion, of sensation, and then you climb on the bed, slip into his lap, kiss him again. This time it’s different, because your lips and tongue are all saying what you can’t, and it’s intimate, passionate, vulnerable, intense.

Except, maybe you can say it, because he kisses back just as furiously, and it translates into something as strong as what you’re feeling, his hands on your face and lower back holding you close.

“I want you,” he whispers, looking into your eyes, and you’re panting hard, desperate for more. “Not just tonight—I want every night to feel like tonight. I know you weren’t planning for anything more than this, but if you like, maybe I could take you to dinner when we get back. We could see if there’s something more?” He looks nervous, like the offer won’t be well received, but you just nod, smile, lean close for a gentler brush of lips.

“I’d really like that. I don’t want to only feel like this tonight.”

You kiss a little more, softer, sweeter things, eventually moving from his lap to curl against his side; the two of you cuddle, talk—it’s not awkward in the slightest, just feels right, and you drift to sleep warm and content in his arms.

Maybe Miami’s not so bad after all.

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt

719 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Text

His + Hers

Summary | You didn’t want a bodyguard and certainly didn’t need one. Bucky didn’t want the job. But as soon as the two of you meet, all bets are off.

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.2k

Warnings | language (including light degradation, possessive!Bucky, smut (oral - f receiving, piv) - minors dni or you will be blocked

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I don’t need anyone to watch over me,” rolled eyes and loudly snapped gum. Crossed legs and an anxiously jiggling foot. The aging clock ticked loudly as your gaze burned into the giant dual monitors that shielded the man on the other side. He had just oh so casually dropped some horrible news to you.

What was his name? Jeff? Jeffrey? Jefferson? It didn’t matter. Funny. For a man that you’d seen more often than your father in recent years, you’d think you might have remembered his name. Despite all that you still hadn’t seen him more than four, save five, times.

“Those are your father’s wishes.”

“Then why isn’t he here telling me this?”

“He’s a very busy man.”

“A man too busy to see own daughter, his own child, always work, work, working,” you spat, “what he could be doing that’s so important that he couldn’t even spare me fifteen minutes of his time?”

“He’s-”

“It was a rhetorical question,” you stood up and grabbed your bag, “sometimes it still shocks me that a man that claims he loves me so much he barely speaks to me, sees me. I don’t want this bodyguard - if you send them to me I will simply send them away. Don’t waste my time or theirs.”

“Your father is going to send someone regardless of your wishes, you must know this by now.”

“Tell him if he’s so insistent upon me being chaperoned like a puppy that he can come and talk to me himself,” you threw your shoulders back as you tried to chase away emotions or feelings. This was not the time or place for them, “see you in another six months for so.”

“Miss -”

You slammed the door shut before he could say anything else.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bucky’s groan was heavy - irritated - as he trudged up the stairs to the ninth freaking floor. Of course you couldn’t live somewhere near the bottom. Of course the elevator was broken, “I’m gonna murder you, Wilson.”

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, he calmed himself with every single step. Left foot, right foot, and repeat. Before he knew it, he arrived on your floor, less angry but still annoyed.

Bucky looked around for your apartment number, finding it quickly but wishing he hadn't. It was supposed to be a simple job - hang around you for a little while until things calmed down around your father. There was never any huge threat to you, but you were to be kept safe anyway. Typical rich people, he practically rolled his eyes. Complete idiot, he sighed at himself. He could have walked away from the gig easily, but things had been quiet after everything in New York and he needed something fresh. Naturally he’d say yes to this when Sam mentioned the job to him.

Once he found your apartment he slowly trudged through the hall, his mind all but made up about you already. You were going to be nothing more than a spoiled little brat. He looked at the golden number above your door and sighed heavily before knocking loudly.

For a few moments, nothing but silence met his ears before he finally heard what he was sure was annoyed grumbling inside accompanied by soft footsteps. The door was whipped open and Bucky came face to face with you.

Your brows knitted together as you studied him before crossing your arms over your chest, “can I help you?”

“James Barnes,” his name practically came out as a sigh. You raised your eyebrows at him but remained silent.

“And?” you asked as you moved to close the door, “I’m in the middle of my fifth zoom meeting of the day and annoyed and hungry. Thanks for wasting my time. Have a fantastic day.”

Before you could slam the door in his face, Bucky stuck his foot in the doorway and prevented you from closing it. A huff escaped your lips as you glared at him through the crack, “your father sent me. I’m supposed to look after you.”

“Ahh yes,” you rolled your eyes and frowned, “the baby-sitter my father hired. I told him and his assistant that I don’t want - or need - anything to watch me. I’m fine. So if you don’t mind you can leave. I’m busy and don’t have time to deal with you.”

“You don’t pay me sweetheart,” he scoffed lightly as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. You wanted a challenge? He’d give you one, “and as long as that’s the case, I stay.”

“I’ll double whatever he paid you.”

“Oh honey, I doubt you could ever afford that.”

“What can I do to get you to leave?”

“Nothing.”

“It really doesn’t seem like you want to be here either so why don’t we both do ourselves a favor and cut the shit?”

“Not until your father tells me it’s okay to leave,” he smirked, “I don’t take orders from little girls, sweetheart. Nor do you pay my bills.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a bitch,” your mouth opened into a little pout as you attempted to shut the door on his foot, “you can shut the door, it won’t hurt me. I’ll just tear it down if I have to.”

“Are you serious?!”

“Want to find out?” he asked as you threw your head back and sighed at the ceiling. Yes and no. You wanted to push his buttons and see how far you could press. But you also didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Instead you slowly, ever so reluctantly opened the door, refusing to move but motioning for him to come in. He practically sauntered in with a victorious little smirk on his lips, “good girl.”

You were to let him have it when he turned around to face you and finally got the chance to study him. And your jaw almost hit the floor. Fuck.

He was handsome - dark hair and the bluest eyes you’d ever seen with a five o’clock shadow. He was dressed in very well fitting jeans, along with a henley and leather jacket. So casual but he managed to make it look so good. For a moment you thought he looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place. Maybe you’d seen him around somewhere.

Well, this presented a whole new predicament. This would have been so much easier if he hadn’t been one of the most gorgeous men you’d laid eyes on.

“Like what you see?”

“I’m not into old men,” you cocked your head to the side and watched him with a smirk. Bucky almost tripped up and let an emotion slip but instead he remained pointedly neutral as he looked you up and down.

It would have been easier to dislike and hate you entirely if you weren’t so damn cute. You were dressed in a comfy, oversized sweater and joggers and big fuzzy socks - casual and cute but effortlessly so. It was a challenge not to stare.

“Whatever you say,” he held up his hands in mock defeat as you became momentarily placated, “what’s the plan for today?”

“I have a job and things to do,” you huffed as you pushed past him, “so just do something or whatever and stay out of my way. If you insist on being here.”

“I do.”

“This is going to be fucking hell, isn’t it?”

“It can be whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart!”

“Sure thing, doll.”

"I hate you already.”

“The feelings’ mutual, honey.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hating Bucky was a full time job. Bucky having to chaperone you through all of your shenanigans was a full time job. Both of you were incredibly stubborn and damn near made the job impossible.

You'd be lying if it said he wasn't attractive and that you hadn't thought about him. Especially late at night. Alone in bed. But you'd rather die than admit that to him.

Bucky had a feeling he'd break you down eventually; not that he expected anything to come of it. He enjoyed flirting with you and watching you get frazzled and nervous. But you weren't his type. Nuh uh - Bucky Barnes wasn't into pretty little spoiled brats. Even if they weren't attractive and smart and genuinely kind underneath it all.

That wasn't part of the job. Which was why he never let it go past anything that could be deemed as flirtatious.

Just as he vowed to break you down and just admit you liked him, you might have had a little goal of your own…

"Come on," Bucky sighed as he paced around your living room, waiting for you to come out of the bedroom so you could pizza and watch movies. It had become somewhat of a Friday night tradition, reluctantly so. It was hard to get out and have a lot of fun when you had a silent, intimidating brooding man following you around, "how long does it take to change?"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you opened your bedroom door and stepped out, slipping on your heels, "I'm ready."

Bucky's eyes widened as he looked you over. You were wearing a little black dress and fuck me heels along with ruby red lips and a full face of makeup. He fought back a little growl as you smirked at him, "what the fuck are you wearing?"

"Its called a dress, genius."

"To get pizza so we can come back and watch movies?"

"That's not the plan," you straightened up and walked past him, grabbing your purse and jacket.

"You said-"

"I lied," you stated the obvious, "I'm going out to finally have some fun. Without you."

"I'm coming with you," he crossed his arms over his broad chest as you tried not to stare, "that's the job, sweetheart."

"And I'd like to actually have fun and get laid," you threw your hands up, "its hard to do that with you breathing down my neck constantly! If you insist, can you at least like stay ten feet away. Give me a fucking break."

His breath had hitched in his throat as soon as he heard the words get laid and he worked to keep it together. He sighed as he forced himself not to imagine you underneath, naked and begging for more.

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly, "ten feet only."

"Thank fuck."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One drink had turned into two which easily turned into three and after that you’d both lost count. Bucky had been sitting at the bar, a singular, but arbitrary drink in his hand as he watched you get progressively looser as the evening wore on. His steely gaze almost never left yours as he watched you chat up people around you. You were naturally extroverted, and definitely a flirt - but then again maybe that was the alcohol - and it wore Bucky out trying to keep an eye on you. He wasn’t terribly concerned about what was going on, but still, he was a man that took his job seriously.

It wasn’t until he decided that it was fine to let you out of his sight for a few moments only to turn back and found you missing. A growl bubbled up in his throat as he scanned the tightly packed pace and found you in the middle of the dance floor. You were pressed against a man that had been eyeing you up since you’d gotten there, mouths smashed together as you kissed him like your life depended on it. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and his hands were on your ass the entire time.

As soon as you ground up against him, something in Bucky snapped. He threw back the rest of his drink and quickly made his way over to you. The people in his path parted like the seas when they noticed the predatory expression in his eyes. Before you could even realize what had happened, you felt a hand tightly squeeze your shoulder. A gasp left your lips as Bucky pulled you away from your newfound friend.

“What the fuck!” you glared at him as the man that just had his hands all over you grew visibly nervous. Bucky grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close, “Bucky!”

“Keep your filthy fuckin’ hands off of her, you understand?” he growled at the man as he just nodded, “I ever see you near her again and you’re dead. You leave my girl alone.”

Bucky shoved him away and the man practically skittered across the bar and out the door without so much as a single glance back. Breathing angrily, he turned around to find you staring at him in awe, arms over your chest. You were suddenly incredibly sober, “what the hell was that? I’m not your fucking girl, Bucky.”

“We’re going home. Now,” he reached for your hand and held your wrist in a tight grip as he dragged you without another word. You wanted to argue with him and fight back, but there was something about his possessive nature that had sent a shiver down your spine and a rush of warmth to your core as you let him pull you along like a ragdoll.

Maybe your dangerous little plan was finally going to turn into reality.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you going to finally tell me what’s going on?” you asked as you walked back into your apartment, trailing after Bucky and slamming the door shut, “you chased off my only chance of-”

Before you could say anything else, Bucky’s hands found your waist and he crashed his lips onto yours in a bruising tangle of tongue and teeth. You responded with a surprised moan as he backed you up against the wall, making sure you didn’t hit your head.

“He’s a fuckin’ boy,” he insisted as he lightly gripped your throat, causing you to part your lips as you fought back a moan, “he wouldn’t have made you cum. Probably doesn’t even know where your pretty little clit is.”

“And you would?” you challenged, already knowing exactly where this was leading. Something in your mind told you that this was wrong and you should have stopped it, but the larger part of you really just wanted him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it for weeks and weeks now, touching yourself late at night to the thought of him. Bucky smiled at you - a dangerous, toothy, wicked thing causing you to swallow thickly, “I don’t think you could. You’re all talk, Bucky. Probably haven’t even been laid since the 40s.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want this too, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear before trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin, making it a point to mark you up. That way everyone would know you were his. He rutted his lips lightly against yours, and you could already feel how hard he was, “I see the way you look at me - I know you’ve thought about me. Probably touched that pretty pussy of yours and wished it was my cock, huh little girl?”

“Bucky,” his name was nothing more than a whimper of your lips as you tried to reach down and touch yourself. He was quick to grab your hand and pull it away. You whimpered as he just chuckled darkly. Oh, how easily he could break you down with just a few words, “please. Need you.”

��I’ll give you what you need,” he swore as he watched you with hungry eyes. He shimmied up your dress and moved to touch you. His smirk only grew when he noticed you’d forgone panties, “look at you, such a little slut. You didn’t even put on panties? You really wanted this, didn’t you? Were you just hoping I’d touch you? I bet you had this whole thing planned out - just wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you?”

You looked at him with wide doe eyes but remained silent as you tried to play coy. But he was having none of it, and grabbing your jaw, “answer me.”

“Mhmm..,just want you,” you admitted as he slowly let go before grabbing both of your wrists in his vibranium hand and pinning them above your head, “just touch me.”

And he did - slowly, he dragged his fingers through your folds, smirking at how wet you already were, “oh honey, you’re practically dripping. So wet already, and I’ve barely even touched you. Such a good little slut.”

Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of him circling your clit slowly before feeling your soaked folds and sliding a thick finger inside. A small sound of surprise reached his ears as you almost rutted into his hand and he easily slid another finger in. The stretch from his fingers was enough to spark the warmth in your belly as you bit your lip to keep from whining.

“Look at you, such a needy little thing,” you could hear the smirk in his voice as he fucked with his fingers, “but you’re not going to cum on my fingers. I’m going to see if you taste as sweet as you look. Gonna make ruin that pussy for anyone else. You’re mine - you understand?”

“‘m yours,” you whimpered as he let go of your hands and slowly sank to his knees in front of you. His large hands, a contrast of warm and cool, splayed on your thighs before slowly traveling up to your hips and grabbing them in a bruising grasp. This man was really working to make sure he would remain all over you. He pressed a few kisses to your thighs before stopping at your mound, and you could feel his warm breath fanning across on your pussy, “please.”

“That’s right, you can be a good girl,” he didn’t even hesitate for a moment before diving in and licking a stripe up your folds, causing sparks to shoot throughout your spine. You could feel him smirking against you at the immediate effect he had as he ate you out like a man starving.

Bucky Barnes was not a shy man when it came to eating pussy. He licked and suckled on your clit as he let two of his cool vibranium fingers slide into your pussy. He crooked them just right, effortlessly finding your g-spot as your knees threatened to buckle. No one man had ever made you feel this good before, nor so easily.

“F-fuck,” you hissed as he pulled back and look at the blissed out expression on your face, “more please.”

“Look at you pretty little thing,” he grinned as he pressed a few wet, sloppy kisses to your mound. He pulled his fingers from you before reaching up and practically ripping your dress off. If you’d hadn’t been so close to cumming, you would have yelled at him, but in the moment you didn’t care. Especially not as his hands found your breasts and massaged them before he played with your pert nipples, causing you to arch into his touch, “not wearing a bra either. You are bad.”

“‘m so close,” you whined as he just smirked at you. Before you could say anything else he slapped your pussy, causing you to jump slightly before you keened into his touch, silently asking for more.

“You like that, honey?” he teased as you nodded with closed eyes, your mouth forming a small o. He repeated the motion before he grabbed your ass and buried his face back into your pussy. You moaned into his touch, bucking your hips against his mouth as he made all the most sinful noises as he ate you out like his life depended it on. He worked pure magic with only his tongue and he soon had you seeing stars as your legs started to shake around him. He anchored you to him and kept you from falling down as he brought on your orgasm, “that’s it honey. You’re going to cum all over my face, going to taste all that pretty pussy has to offer.”

“F-f-fuck,” you reached down and carded a hand through his dark hair as you held him against you, “jesus.”

“Cum for me,” he commanded and you did just as you were told, crying out his name like a prayer as you felt your release wash over you. Bucky stayed between your legs as you came all over him, cleaning up every little bit you had, not stopping until you were begging him to stop from the over stimulation, “tastes like fuckin’ candy. Best pussy I ever tasted.”

“Jesus,” your chest was heaving as he kissed his way up your body. He stopped at your lips and offered you a victorious little smirk, “you’re an asshole but at least you know how to eat pussy.”

He grabbed your chin in his hand and forced you to look at him, “you’re mine - this pussy is mine and no one else’s, you understand, little brat?”

“Ruin me then,” you raised your eyebrows before you kissed him again, trying to beat him at his own little game. But it was no use - he was easily more dominant and held control over you, “make me yours.”

“Turn around,” he growled as he flipped you in his arms and pressed you against the wall. You moaned as his hands mapped out every curve of your body before you felt the sharp sting of his hand on your ass. Just to spur him on a little more, you bounced your ass and he slapped you a few more times before massaging your skin to soothe the pain, “you like it when it hurts. God, you’re perfect. My little slut.”

“Please fuck me. Need you so bad,” you practically whined but quickly grinned when you heard him undo his belt and pants before he pulled his cock out. He groaned in your ear as you heard him stroke himself a few times.

“‘m so fucking hard, baby,” he ran the tip of his cock through your folds and you could already feel how big he was, “got me leakin’ already. Thought about you and that smart little mouth so many times. Always cum so hard when I think about you. Can’t wait to see how good this pussy feels squeezing my cock. You’re going to take all of me, little thing.”

He coated his length with your arousal - you were already so wet again - before slapping his cock against your ass. You tried to reach around so you could touch him but he slapped your hand out of the way.

“Put your cock in me,” you practically begged and before you could say anything else, he plunged into you, causing you to practically scream in surprise. He didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed inside of you, feeling like he was practically splitting you apart. The burn quickly faded away as you moaned and clenched your walls around him, “fuck, you’re so big.”

“Did you expect anything else, pretty baby?” he whispered in your ear before grabbing your hips again. He slowly pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back into you with no warning. You clawed at the wall as he set a brutal pace, slamming his hips into yours over and over again, letting you have almost no room to breath. The only sounds that left your lips were small whimpers and mewls he fucked you to an inch of your life.

You felt the coolness of the vibranium snake around your body before he found your clit. You let him press you against the wall as he pounded into you, and you quickly left your second orgasm start to bubble up in your tummy.

“Taking my cock so well,” he praised as he slowly played with your clit. He was not shy about being loud and moaning, all while murmuring filthy praise into your ear, “so tight - so perfect. This pussy was made for me.”

“More,” you begged in between breaths, “harder, please.”

“You want it harder, pretty baby? You’re not gonna be walkin’ after this,” he smirked before he picked the pace and fucked you even harder than before, which you hadn’t even thought possible, “good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Mhmm,” you agreed with a wistful smile, a fucked out expression on your face as you felt his cock twitch inside of you as your walls started to clench around him, “please, please, please.”

“Gonna fill you up,” he said through gritted teeth as he slowed his thrusts, making them slower and deeper than before, “gonna make sure you know who you belong to.”

It was a few more thrusts before you came again, crying out as the pleasure rippled through your body. Bucky came quickly after, grunting as he came inside of you, filling you up with hot ropes of his cum. He fucked you through it all, not stopping until you were feeling boneless and he had filled you with every last drop.

He easily caught you just as you were about to collapse in his arms and pulled you against his chest as he pressed a few kisses to your shoulder. You reached behind you and carded a hand through his arm, scratched at his scalp as he continued to kiss your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you said as you tried to catch your breath, “that was incredible.”

“I told you I’d ruin every other man for you,” he slowly pulled out and turned you around so you were facing him. You put a hand under your chin and turned your face up to his, “you’re mine.”

“I’m your girl,” it was like music to his ears as you reached between your thighs and swiped his cum mixed with your arousal up and sucked it clean off your finger, “my pussy is yours and your cock is mine.”

“Good girl, “ he praised with a wicked smile, “now get on your knees and put that pretty mouth to use.”

“Yes sir.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you

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anubvs · 3 years

Text

A Single Moment - Part 2 of "AirMail Cocktails"

[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ] Summary: You finally met the big boss of the mob you service at your restaurant, but can someone really change before it's too late?

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x (Fem)Reader AU

masterlist | requests: closed

You can’t really pinpoint the moment it changed, you just know that things are different now. It started with little things, ordering drinks you knew she would never finish just so she could watch you work. She would request you stay at the table to mix drinks during nights when they would have their meetings. She also knew that you didn't like participating in violence, so she would always ask you to grab more things from the kitchen so you wouldn't have to see her get physical.

Natasha was someone you could count on. Anytime one of the drunken perverts at the bar got a little bit too friendly with you or anyone else, she wouldn't even be there, but you would see them a week later with a black eye and staying quite far away, tipping better than before.

She got a bit more friendly, suggesting that you sit next to her during their meetings, using the excuse that she needed to have someone who knew what it was like in the restaurant when she wasn't there. It didn't stop her from casually resting her hand on your thigh underneath the table. Every meeting she got a little bit more confident, leaning more on you until now where she fully puts her arm around you.

You've stopped making drinks for them altogether.

Tonight was the same, their usual biweekly dinner to discuss how the business is running and how many drug lords they’ve gotten off the streets. Natasha wasn't a violent mobster, she liked to keep drugs off the street and away from young adults, but she used to be a Hitwoman. She was one of the best, and still is, only getting her hands dirty when she really needs to. People started referring to you as the “boss's best girl”. Which made sense considering that's what she called you during every meeting.

“My Best Girl here says that you've gotten a bit too friendly with the other bartenders.”

“You always make the best drinks. That's why you're My Best Girl.”

As usual you laid most of your weight against her chest as she wrapped her arms around you in the small booth in the back of the restaurant. soft music playing in the background while you wait for the next Kingpin to come in apologizing and begging for their drugs back in return for their life.

It was comfortable and you started to think about wanting more, you would have to talk to Natasha about it at the end of the night.

You thought about asking her to go somewhere else for dinner once, maybe getting to know her more.

She let out a soft sigh and began running her fingers along your arm, almost as if she seemed nervous.

You didn't pay attention for long, the sound of the restaurant door opening taking your focus, and when you saw who had walked in, it took your breath.

James. Bucky. Your ex-boyfriend.

You had broken up on mutual terms, you wanted to focus on work and he wanted to focus on being young and partying.

The look of shock on his face let you know that he was there to meet with a crew but did not expect to see you in the arms of the big boss.

“Bucky, you know why you're here, right?”

Natasha's voice was sickeningly sweet, it was the voice you knew meant trouble.

“N-no. I-I mean I-k-kinda?”

“You are here because you can't seem to get the message that I do not want drugs running around my street in the hands of young impressionable teenagers. Now I thought that squeezing a few of your mules that you have out would make my intentions quite clear. Obviously I was wrong, it seems like you need a bigger hint.”

You could see the vein in his throat, the one that always got bigger when you noticed his breathing get shallow, it happened a lot when you were together, or when he was getting nervous. “I-I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

That was all the warning you had before the arm that was resting over your shoulder quickly pulled you up to your feet in a headlock, and you felt a knife pressed to your stomach. “Natasha?”

“Hush sweet girl. Now, Bucky, I've been digging into why you chose to run your operations on my streets, Where everyone knows I wouldn't allow it. you've been following her. You were running drugs near her old apartment also, weren’t you?”

So many thoughts were running through your head, None of them were good. The Sharp heart pain in the center of your chest was way stronger than the fear you felt at the bottom of your stomach. you felt more betrayed, used, and more upset than you were scared of the knife against your skin.

“Quite the small brain you have not to notice that the crime that went up in the neighborhood was why she decided to move. Now you are going to listen, and listen well. If I ever hear that you are running drugs in one of my areas again, or if you even think about doing anything near this restaurant again, then I might not be so friendly with this knife. Understood?”

All he did was nod and stutter to get out his agreement before Steve and the other blond crew member you now learned was named Thor dragged him out of the restaurant.

The second you felt the knife pull away from your stomach and the arm slowly loosen around your neck, you turned and began to yell.

“What the hell? Are you absolutely out of your mind?”

“Honey, I was-.”

The next thing you knew your hand had swept across her face and a loud smack echoed in the restaurant, all of her crew looking defensively at you, meanwhile Natasha just waved to them to back off. “No, I'm not your honey, and here I thought you were different. I thought you knew me.”

“He was trying to get close to you.”

“What? So you decided to beat him first? To make me feel comfortable, all those questions you asked me before, I thought you just wanted to get to know me because you liked who I was, but you used me.”

“That was never my intention. When you told me about the crime in your old neighborhood and when you talked about your ex I put the pieces together and I wanted to protect you.”

“So protect me by putting me in a choke hold and holding a knife to me, threatening to hurt me, that's protecting me? God I'm so stupid, this whole time I've been thinking about getting to know you better for once, I wanted to actually be with you but now it all makes sense.”

The rest of the crew had cleared out of the restaurant at this point. They were so close to both of you that it felt like watching two parents fight.

Natasha moved to grab your arm, but you yanked it away, grabbing your purse with tears in your eyes.

“I'm done, you got what you wanted, now please just leave me alone.”

You turned away and stormed out of the restaurant, heading straight for your car so you could go home and lay in bed. You didn't notice the way Natasha stepped forward like she wanted to chase you, or the way her hand trembled while still holding the knife. You would never see how she threw the knife on the floor and looked at it with such disgust, even though she knew it was a fake with a retractable blade because she could never actually put a weapon anywhere near you.

You would never see the lone tear that slid down her face as she realized that she loved you, and that she lost you, all in the same moment.

[ no taglist yet but these people wanted more/part 2 ]: @criminalyetminimal @wandanatsub @mjaudrey @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ladyylesbian

#black widow x female reader #black widow x you #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #mob boss au #mob boss!natasha #natasha!mafia #mine #anubis writes y/n

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cerinefalls · 3 years

Text

One Bed {A Shoto Todoroki xReader Trope-Fic}

This work is the first of a series.

3290 words

MHA/BNHA trope fic

fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On this lovely night, an unexpected stop had UA in a tizzy. Of course, something had gone wrong. You were on a trip with the hero course, after all. The bus came to a screeching halt in the darkness, which woke most of the students aboard.

"Is everyone alright?" Aizawa stood groggily from his bus seat and turned to face the body of students behind him. It looked like students weren't the only ones awoken by the unexpected stop.

"We're fine, Mr. Aizawa." Denki shot a thumbs up in the direction of his teacher, letting him know that his group had been fine.

"Yep, looking good on this side of the bus!" Kirishima seconded. The two boys were right. 1A's side of the bus was hardly affected by the whiplash-inducing pause in their trip.

The same could not be said for Class B. Due to the direction of the bus, Class B's student body had ended up halfway on the floor. Aizawa could clearly see this when he turned to ask for a status update, but he accepted the 'I'm fine' from his students and sat down long before anyone addressed it.

"I'm sorry, kids. Somethin's wrong with the engine." The bus driver hopped up out of his seat and bowed at the front of the aisle. It was some form of apology, though no one believed it was needed.

"It's fine," Shouta grumbled from his seat. "Vlad will get us rooms somewhere so we can wait out the night. It's unsafe to stay here with villains roaming around." After a few moments of back and forth between the hero-course teachers, Vlad cracked and began searching for hotels nearby.

Soon enough, classes 1A and 1B had walked to a nearby hotel. You'd arrived safely! What a feat for this school. As soon as you walked in, though, you could tell why arriving safely wasn't the worst of your concerns. Immediately whispers began floating amongst students.

"Enough." Aizawa progressed to the front of the group and shushed them, which with his demeanor worked quickly. Everyone turned their attention to him and listened to what he had to say. "They have been kind enough to let us bring all of you here. Be respectful."

"Yeah, because all their rooms were empty..." One student joked from the back. They instantaneously regretted their decision.

"Go to the front and get your room keys." Vlad pointed in the direction of the check-in desk while Aizawa dealt with the problem-child.

What a time! Staying in a hotel with unknown reviews on a night you were meant to be safe in your dorms. This had to be the safest, most organized thing UA had ever allowed to happen, right? It was no surprise at this point. You let your annoyed thoughts sink to the back of your mind as you walked to the room you were assigned and swiped your key.

Wait- what was that? Something brushed your hand as you reached for the door. You snatched your hand back, fight or flight switched on in your unfamiliar surroundings, but when you turned around, all you saw was a puzzled face on one of your classmates.

"Shoto?" You questioned, startled but settling down. He nodded in response.

"The woman at the desk gave me a key to this room," he explained.

"She gave me a key to this room," you elaborated, matching the confusion he was displaying.

"Maybe we are meant to share it," he suggested. You hadn't thought about that. The hotel was housing forty-one students and two teachers, so it'd make sense if you were supposed to share rooms. You nodded.

"It isn't impossible." You wanted to make sure, though. Reaching your hand over again, you placed the black bar on the back of your card against the lock. With a click, it opened. "Hm, now you try." You stepped back to give him room.

Todoroki took a few moments to realize what you were trying to do, but once he did, he stood to attention. Shoto placed the bar of his own card onto the lock, and just as it had with yours, the lock opened. He stepped forward with a hum, pushing open the door and waiting for you to enter.

"Oh? Thank you." You tried not to sound worried as you carried yourself as well as your bag into the room. It was separated! How lovely. For a ditsy-looking hotel, the room sure seemed nice. You sat your bag next to the couch and put your exhausted body to rest right above it, falling on the furniture with a thud.

Todoroki wasn't far behind you, closing the door when he walked in and placing his bag next to the armchair. He took a seat on the chair and turned in your direction.

"You should shower," He said plainly.

"Are you calling me stinky?" You joked, attempting to make light of the soon-to-be awkward situation. It appeared your humor was completely lost on this one, though, because instead of a laugh, you saw a dull face and slow-shaking head.

"No, not like that." Todoroki denied your claim. "I'm saying we were doing field training, and you should clean up. I'll let you go first." He was keen on giving you the first chance at things. It was sweet of him, no matter how bland he was while doing it. Kindness was kindness, and you weren't about to turn kindness down.

"Right," you agreed, not surprised your joke had flown over this boy's head. For someone half cold-half hot, his personality sure took after one side at a time.

You slowly stood off the couch and grabbed your bag, walking towards the washroom. After addressing him with a final nod of thanks, you disappeared past the doorframe. Once steam began to seep past the crack underneath, Shoto reached for his bag and took out his phone, knowing you were comfortable in the shower.

40 Missed Calls from "Father."

Shoto swiped the notifications away and went to text endeavor with an update. By the time he'd passive-aggressively responded to his father's concerns and beat three levels of his 'brain games,' you'd emerged from the shower and opened the door.

"I only had my casual clothes as spares, so I'll be sleeping in a t-shirt tonight. I hope you brought something." You spoke embarrassedly as Todoroki stared you down. It was odd how long his eyes were fixed on your wet hair, almost as if he was trying to figure something out. Even as you walked back to the couch and sat down- his eyes followed the upper half of your body and studied you.

After this prolonged experience, he went right back to normal without speaking a word. All he did was nod at you as you had him, walking into the washroom and shutting the door. You didn't see any steam after he turned the water on, which you thought was mildly confusing. Had he stepped in already? Apparently so, though you didn't figure this out until fifteen minutes later when he finally emerged.

"Go use the restroom before bed." A half-dressed Shoto Todoroki walked back into the 'living room' with completely dry hair. While you'd covered your upper body, he'd covered his lower. Had that been why he'd stared at you before? He was even making a point to fluff his hair with his hands, taking his seat back on the armchair.

"Good idea." You replied, quickly scurrying to the washroom once again. You hadn't realized it, but you needed to pee. You'd first noticed on the bus, but since the stress of the situation got to you, you'd completely forgotten.

When you approached the toilet, you saw the handle of the shower through your peripheral vision. It was turned completely towards the cold setting. Todoroki washed up in that? No wonder his mood was as cold as his right side.

After washing and drying your hands, you joined Todoroki once again. It was nearing time for the two of you to go to sleep, and neither of you checked the bedroom yet. That gave you an idea.

"Hey, Todoroki, let's look around the room before bed." You suggested.

"But, your hair?" He sounded confused.

"What about my hair?" You questioned him, patting your head in an attempt to find what he was talking about.

"You shouldn't go to bed with wet hair. It can make you sick." Todoroki stated quietly. For someone so brief in speaking, his attention to detail was uncanny. "Aizawa would be annoyed if you got sick." He reminded you, and he was probably right. That, as well as the fact that being sick sounded rather unappealing with recovery girl hours away.

"You're right." You nodded in agreeance with him. "Let me go dry it-"

"Let me." Shoto Todoroki just offered to dry your hair. Something about the idea seemed... unsafe.

"Why you?" You questioned, intrigued.

"You didn't do it the first time and I know where the hairdryer is." He stood up and walked towards the room again, opening the door and waiting for you. "Unless you don't want me to."

"Hairdryer?" You were unsure of that. The last thing you wanted was for your hair to get damaged in some way. You thought about it, though. Todoroki's hair was well-kept and looked healthy. It was unlikely he'd do anything wrong, even if your hair was a bit different. "I... trust you." You nodded, following him and standing in front of the sink.

"Okay, stand still." He reached behind the door and took out a cloth bag. From the bag, he pulled out a white, clunky hairdryer. When Shoto plugged it in, the lights in the washroom flickered, startling you.

"You used that on your head!?" You expressed your concern openly.

"No. I don't use hairdryers. I just know how to because Fuyumi taught me. This one doesn't seem safe, though." Todoroki unplugged the hairdryer and sat it on the ironing board, far away from any water sources. " I could dry your hair how I dry my own if you're okay with that."

"Oh, you towel dry? Or does your hair air-dry fast?" You had to admit, you were slightly interested.

"Neither," he shook his head.

"Then..."

"I use my flames."

"What?"

"Midoriya suggested I practice using smaller flames for simple tasks. It helps me." Todoroki demonstrated, a small blaze lighting from his palm. It was interesting to watch such a controlled flame come from him when he'd been a walking inferno during training. "I started using it to dry things because it was safer with water around."

"So you haven't been doing this for very long?" You were skeptical of this method, though as you'd noted before, his hair was still healthy. Clearly, he was doing something right.

"No, I have not, but I've accumulated a skill for it. I'm comfortable containing a flame this size for a long time now." Todoroki explained

It took you a few minutes to consider, time he spent sitting on the edge of the tub and playing with his fire. It was refreshing to see him using it so comfortably when it was clearly not his strongest point. Not trusting him with it seemed almost rude now. "I've made my decision," you turned his way, earning a look of interest. "I still trust you. Show me how you dry your hair." Though you were not sure, you could almost swear you saw a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was hard to tell, though, because it lasted only a moment before he stood and walked behind you again.

"Stand still." He requested, raising his right hand just next to the edge of your silhouette. He carefully guided a warm flame around your head. It quickly evaporated the water nearest the air around the two of you but did nothing for the soaked roots. After a thoughtful hum, Todoroki made a tactical decision. He started to section your hair, slowly but surely getting to the root without burning you. After he was done, he fluffed your hair like he had fluffed his own and took a step back.

"Thank you." You smiled, looking over your shoulder in the mirror. In the reflection, you saw a well-contented Shoto Todoroki, looking at his righthand proudly. You dare not mention it for fear of embarrassing him, but it made you smile.

"Thank you for the opportunity." He nodded respectfully, opening the door fully and waiting for you to step out. Once you did, he followed.

The two of you stood in the makeshift hallway until someone yawned, making you giggle. It was time to check out the bedroom, a unanimous decision you'd made. With a loud creak, the door opened and the two of you stepped in.

It wasn't what you expected, to say the very least. You walked into what looked like a beautiful bedroom! It was minimalistically styled, a good choice for a hotel. It was even spacious enough for multiple beds! But... there weren't. You walked into a bedroom that only housed four pieces of furniture; a console table, a dresser, a nightstand, and a California king-sized bed.

"Did we miss something?" You asked, walking around and checking each of the walls. Nothing seemed out of place, and you didn't see any buttons.

"No. The woman told me there would be one bed located in the bedroom area." Shoto explained, placing his bag down by the door. He'd brought your bag as well and placed it on the opposite side of the door. "I was planning on sleeping in the opposite room had I gotten a roommate. I want you to take the bed." It would of course make sense to have the stronger student by the front in the event of an attack, but he did not tell you that.

"There are windows in this room. I think it's safer if we stick together." You suggested, trying to think of ways the two of you could share the space comfortably. The bed looked big enough to fit two full-sized Fatgums, so it wasn't impossible.

"Are you comfortable with me staying here? There's plenty of room in the front if you're worried about me falling off." He reassured you of his safety. Todoroki knew it'd be better to cover both potential entrances, but he also considered your mental well-being. If it made you feel safer with another person, he'd stay.

"I..." You thought for a moment, sitting on the edge of the bed. The all too familiar coolness of the hotel bedspread made up your mind for you. "I'd prefer if you stayed with me." You couldn't possibly make him stay on the couch. He was well-mannered and respectful. It wasn't like you'd struck out and gotten stuck with Bakugo. Keeping Shoto away from the comfort of a hotel bed simply wasn't an option- or at least, not one you were considering.

"Thank you." He nodded. "What side of the bed do you want?" Once again, he was giving you the first pick. You couldn't tell if this instance was him being polite or indecisive, nor did you truly care. His offer allowed you to pick the side of the bed you were most comfortable with, and you did.

Todoroki closed the door and climbed into bed next to you, keeping to his edge. You didn't notice until you rolled over. You thought you'd hit his leg and went to apologize, but he wasn't next to you. The poor boy was barely hugging the edge of the bed.

"Todoroki-" You called out quietly, at a loss for what to say, really.

"Yes?" He answered without a hint of tiredness in his voice. How could he be? Hugging the corner had to be taking some serious effort.

"I'm not scared of you or anything. You can lay down on the bed if you want to." You reminded him you were allowing him near you despite his previous offer. It almost felt like he was scared of you.

"Oh." Hesitantly he rolled back onto the mattress.

"Have you never shared a bed with anyone?" You questioned, unaware of the can you just opened.

Todoroki sat up and turned on the lamp, shaking his head 'no.' Then, and you weren't sure for how long, he went on a tangent about his home life. Shoto explained calmly that until recently, he hadn't had a chance to make friends and enjoy people for who they were. It was far from the simple answer you wanted, but it was enlightening, to say the least.

"So, I do not have much experience in this sort of thing. I do most things alone." He concluded, turning to face you in the dimly lit room. He hadn't looked at you the whole time, appearing lost in his own mind for most of the conversation. It was almost as though you were just an outlet for him at the moment.

"I see," you nodded. There wasn't much you could do. From the way he described it, you didn't pity him. On the contrary, you thought he was strong for enduring after having been dealt such a foul hand in life. None of his stories surprised you, either. They all fit together, woven into one silent-loathing UA first-year. "Can I ask you something?" You asked, hoping he'd allow your next question.

"Yes," he replied with no visual facial cues.

"Could I help you learn to do things... not alone? As a hero, you'll need to be comfortable around your peers." At least, that was the reason you gave him. It was not why you'd asked, though. You did not pity him, but you did feel as though a support system was what he needed. If that had to start with you and Midoriya, it was fine by you.

"That would be nice." Shoto laid down in the bed, turning the lamp out once more. It was silent for a while- a peaceful silence that you rather enjoyed. It definitely did not remain that way, though. You broke the silence with a shocked gasp when you felt something come behind you and wrap around your waist. You knew what it was even though you could hardly believe it.

"Shoto?" You called him by name. He only hummed in acknowledgment, waiting for you to ask your question. "Why are you..?"

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" His hold loosened and he backed up, fearing he'd done something wrong. "Natsuo told me that if I was ever put in this situation I should make sure they feel warm and protected. Are you too warm? Or do you feel unsafe?" Shoto had clearly taken his brother's joking advice a bit too seriously.

"Oh? No, no." You figured there was no harm in it, it'd just shocked you. "You can practice on me, but next time it's Midoriya's turn."

Todoroki nodded against your neck, scooted in closer than he had been before. Thank the heavens above for the air conditioning unit, because otherwise, you might have actually been 'too hot.' His quirks weren't the only thing half cold-half hot- his whole body was. Maybe it was some offset of his determination, but you surely felt the difference across your skin.

You had no time to critique his temporal settings. Before you could get out another word, you heard a soft snore from behind you. Shoto Todoroki had fallen asleep already. It was looking like those cuddle-puddles Ochako tried to set up may have actually been a good idea. Even you felt tired now.

The two of you slept under odd circumstances that night, close and comfy. It was a mighty good thing no one checked for a pullout sofa.

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hajimesh · 3 years

Text

𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙖̃𝙤 — oikawa tooru / fem reader

had it been on purpose or not, it didn't matter. not when he was already balls deep inside of you.

⥅ word c. 2,483

⥅ warnings. public sex, a mix of praise and degradation (mild), light choking, tit sucking, dirty talk in spanish, fingering, vaginal penetration, exhibitionism, mentions of alcohol, set during the brasil arc but canon divergent ofc

⥅ author's n. my piece for the hqhq nsfw collab of this month ♡

cold droplets of water fell onto your bare thighs, the cocktail in your hand growing warm while your attention remained set somewhere away from your drink.

the beach was packed, from families to couples to groups of friends that seemed to agree that it was a good day to enjoy the rays of the beaming sun and to refresh your bodies in the cool water. a mix of foreign languages floated around you, the touristic spot clearly popular among outsiders and residents alike.

you had been lucky enough to catch a free seat by the bar as you waited for the rest of your friends to come down from your hotel room.

go ahead and see if you can land yourself a cutie, one of them teased you and you had laughed it off, not really getting how you were supposed to find someone in such a short amount of time.

until you saw him, chasing after the bright coloured ball right as you took a sip from your drink.

brown hair stuck to his forehead, sweat dripping down his face and onto his chest making his white shirt damp and cling onto his defined muscles. with biceps that seemed crafted by a sculptor, he landed onto the sand and laughed merrily.

he was definitely attractive, and after that, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

you thought you heard a mix of portuguese and spanish come from his mouth, not sure if it was a mix of both, but when he made his way to the bar after saying something over his shoulder to his companions, you found that he was also versed in the english language.

his entire face was flushed thanks to the sun and the straining exercise he had been doing just mere minutes ago, the bright smile never wavering even as his chest rose in short and quick movements as he seemed to be trying to catch his breath.

your own face warmed up when he casually lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe at the sweat that covered his face, a set of abs coming into view.

“hello.”

blinking, you moved your eyes up to his face as you tried to catch your train of thoughts. if he had caught you staring (which he probably had), he didn’t mention it. instead, he placed his elbow on the counter and turned his body towards you.

with a timid smile and a short wave, you greeted him back, “hi.”

“come here often?” he asked.

“not really, no.”

he nodded and a tense silence appeared as the bartender gave him his drink, taking a few sips while his eyes remained on you.

you wanted to continue the conversation but he didn't seem like he was going to say anything anytime soon. so you took the matter into your own hands and forced a few more words out of your mouth, “i saw you playing, you're really good—well, not that I know much about beach volleyball but you seemed to be having a lot of fun. i mean, i saw your friend cheer so i guess you did score a point but i'm not sure.”

there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he watched you ramble, unconsciously licking his lips when he saw you bite down onto your bottom lip.

“i’m tooru,” he interrupted you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek as a greeting.

still overwhelmed at the affectionate gesture, you followed his lead and introduced yourself.

“say, do you wanna come play with me?” he asked and tilted his head back, signaling towards his group of friends, “it’s okay if you don’t know how to play, i can teach you.”

and as soon as you were hit with that handsome smile of his, you were a goner.

you both finished your drinks before hopping off the bar stools, walking towards the net where his friends were still busy playing a match. at this, he guided you to the sidelines so he could teach you the ropes.

“alright, so first we have what we call serves,” he explained as he removed his shirt and showed you the basic move, but it turned out it was pretty difficult after you missed the ball three times in a row.

“i'm so bad at this,” you were embarrassed, thinking that you were waisting his time.

but he was quick to reassure you, his charming smile putting your mind at ease, “hey, no worries! it's your first time, so it's understandable. here, let me help you.”

and before you could realize what he was about to do, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders —each hand holding yours— as his bare chest pressed against your back.

your palm made contact with the ball and it flew a considerable distance which caused you to squeal, surprised at the outcome.

“see? you got this,” he murmured in your ear, giving you goosebumps.

for the next ten minutes he continued teaching you some moves, helping you with your stance and the position of your hands. his touch lingered and left a trail of heat on your skin whenever it made contact with it, his voice turning huskier until you were basically caged in his arms and his mouth hovered over your ear.

whether it was the heat or the alcohol, maybe a combination of both, your minds clouded with lust as each touch lost its innocence and turned into palpable temptation. what was once a harmless squat, was now a way for you to put your ass in his view. or when he celebrated a point with a victory dance, it was only an excuse to move his hips in a sensual way, putting images in your head that had your folds dampening.

sweat ran down your neck, gliding onto your chest before disappearing between your breasts. it didn’t go unnoticed by him, lewd thoughts now fully taking over him and going straight to the growing tent in his swimming trunks. oikawa's breath fanned over your neck, the hand on your hips pushing them against his which caused him to choke on his spit, the need to let out a satisfying moan whenever your ass brushed just right against his erection becoming harder to resist.

“wanna go for a dip?” he offered, one hand placed on your waist while the other settled on your hip.

to play dumb was your area of expertise, so with a timid smile you accepted the offer, “y-yeah, i need to freshen up a bit.”

his hunger amplified when your body was finally bare for his eyes to see, the sweat making it glow as you made your way to the shore. he quickly jumped in, the water reaching his calves while you dipped your feet and yelped.

“shit, it’s cold.”

following your movements, his eyes never left your body as you finally caught up with him and he took the opportunity to lace his hand with yours.

“but it feels good,” he fixed his eyes on your breasts, your nipples hard and visible through the thin material of your swimwear, “doesn’t it?”

“mhm,” you murmured dazedly.

oikawa kept guiding you further into the cool water until it reached just under your chest, using the hand clasped with yours as leverage to pull you closer to him. he finally allowed a low moan to slip past his lips, your entire body pressing against his as your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist.

“you learn fast,” he rasped out, voice thick with lust.

with an innocent giggle, you smirked at him, “i had a good teacher.”

wet lips met yours in a desperate kiss, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass and rubbing your barely covered pussy onto his dick. a soft gasp left your mouth when it glided right between your lips, the tip poking at your throbbing clit.

“t-tooru,” his mouth moved to your neck, licking and sucking until he had you grinding your hips desperately and longing for more.

the fabric of your top was suddenly moved to the side and it allowed him to stare at your nipples, groping the soft flesh of your breast with one hand while the other remained on your ass to keep you in place. gently, he bent forward so you could float on your back while his mouth moved to your chest, eagerly sucking on it while he uncovered your other breast.

“me encantan tus tetas,” he murmured against your nipple before switching to the other one, his teeth grazing the sensitive area, “podría chuparlas todo el día.”

whining, your hand tangled into his damp hair and pushed him closer to your chest, the foreign words causing your core to throb.

one of his hands snaked down to your thighs, his index finger teasing your covered slit while his mouth remained latched onto your breast.

you were about to tell him to hurry when he finally hooked his finger around the material of your swimwear and pushed it aside, immediately going between your folds and teasing your opening before pushing the digit in.

the sweet little cry that emanated from your lips had oikawa’s cock twitching inside of his trunks, observing your parted mouth as your walls hugged his finger tightly each time he tried to push it further into you.

“naughty girl, want everyone to know you’re getting fucked, don’t you?” he added another finger and you mewled in reply, his laugh sounding like mockery in your ears, “ah, so needy. thought i wouldn’t catch you eye-fucking me earlier? you’re adorable. such a clueless baby that had no idea what she was getting into.”

a strangled moan got stuck in your throat when he curled both fingers, teasing your soft walls as you squirmed under his gaze. your heart was beating wildly not only because of his actions but also because of his words.

he had known all along and toyed with you like a predator would with his prey. and yet, the thought alone only caused a rush of slick to gush from your pussy and onto his fingers.

“more… please,” you pathetically asked and received a coo as an answer.

“does the needy baby want my cock?” he mocked, laughing once he saw you nod, “no te preocupes, mi amor. que te voy a clavar mi pija hasta que estés llena de leche.”

his fingers left your pussy and you were once again pulled flush against him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he fumbled with his swimming trunks. after giving a couple of pumps to his length, oikawa placed the tip right under your opening, pushing the head in before moving his hips back and leaving you empty again.

“stop teasing,” you whine, face buried in his neck, “just fuck me already.”

“how bossy,” he sinks in before you could continue with your complaints, watching in satisfaction as you throw your head back in pleasure, “better?”

his thrusts were slow but firm, sloshing the water around you. his brows were drawn closer and focused on the tight grip of your pussy on his cock, trying and failing to not lose himself in the feeling.

“mierda—” he panted, his pace picking up as he chased after the pleasurable sensation, “so fucking tight.”

desperate, filthy moans tumbled out of your mouth, not caring if the tourists near you could hear, “tooru! fuck me harder.”

he gripped your waist and his thrusts became harsher. by then, anyone that paid more than a second of attention to you would know what was going on. but the blinding pleasure felt so good, the handsome stranger spewing filth so effortlessly only aroused you even more.

“yes, yes, right there!” the head of his cock had reached your spot and you were sure you would cum soon, “you’re so– ah! so big.”

and just as you predicted, the words stroked his ego in a favourable way.

“mhm? you gonna cum, baby? but i’ve barely done a thing.”

another cry escaped you and you were sure you would lose it shortly, “then do… something!”

the look in his eyes immediately switched, gone was the gentleness and faux kindness he had offered you earlier. you didn’t realize your misstep until you felt a hand around your throat.

“repeat that.”

a rush of coldness swarmed through your veins, doubting it would be a wise choice to actually repeat what you had said.

“cat got your tongue?” he squeezed softly the sides of your neck, “you weren’t afraid of complaining seconds ago. what happened?”

his hold on your neck loosened before his hand traveled to the back of your head, the force of his hips knocking the air out of your lungs as he brutally fucked your pussy. all you could do was brace yourself, your nails running down his biceps until his groans and movements finally got the attention of a few tourists.

“i told you i’d fill you with my cum, so be a good girl and squeeze every last drop out of me.”

your head was full of thoughts of him, his cock nudging your spot each time he sank in and imagining his thick cum flooding your womb.

“fuck, that’s it. squeezing me so well,” he moaned, “i can tell your slutty cunt is so— shit! so hungry for my cum. right, princess?”

his expert fingers rubbed your clit in fast movements, warmth settling on your belly until you were spasming and clenching around his girth.

“hah! t-tooru,” you thrashed in his hold, your orgasm turning you into a mess, “hm, wan’ your cum, please, please cum inside of me!”

your desperate and broken cries sent him to his peak, pumping his cum until your walls were coated in white. he continued to fuck your pussy until he grew sensitive, twitching whenever your walls grazed him and relishing in the way your cunt kept pulsing around him.

a couple of minutes passed before he pulled out, a rush of warmth leaving your hole and soon being replaced by the coolness of the water.

neither of you said a word, fixing yourselves in silence until you couldn’t take it, the words bubbling in your chest and begging to be released.

“you’re an asshole,” you pushed him by his chest and a grin broke into his face, “you didn’t have to make everyone see us fucking.”

“where’s the fun in that?” he swam closer and pecked your cheek before you splashed water towards him.

“whatever, next time tell shoyo to improve his acting skills because he seemed close to laughing while you taught me,” you made an air quotes gesture, “how to play.”

“next time, baby. next time,” his smooth voice grazed your ear as he wrapped his arms around your middle, giving your cheek another kiss before he nuzzled his face in your neck, “it’s your turn to pick the scenario.”

#haikyuu smut #oikawa smut #hq smut #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #midnight skies

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priortoallthoughts · 3 years

Text

Don’t Mess With the Commander’s Caf

(or do, because it’s gotten you this far)

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Commander Fox x afab!reader

Warnings: Mild swearing; gets a bit spicy at the end but nothing explicit.

Summary: What is supposed to be a night out at 79s turns into a night in the drunk tank, and the morning starts a startling new relationship with a certain Coruscant Guard Commander. All over a cup of caf.

// [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Masterlist

A night out in Coruscant is never complete for you without going to the clone bar, 79s. You may pre-game somewhere else, but you always end up there, recognizable as one of their regulars. You love the atmosphere, honestly. It’s so jovial, just vode – and weren’t you surprised when you found out that clones spoke a different language with each other – coming to forget the war for a night. Living life as much as they could. You’ve picked up a few words of theirs purely because you hear them so often. Many a curse word too, which are your favorites.

And they were about to be put to good use.

You’re already buzzed and walking with a group of grey-clad troopers that had pulled you into their group when they saw you walking alone. You chat easily with them even though you never met them before. That’s the funny thing about being sociable when you’re sober – you’re even more chatty when you drink. And giggly apparently, considering you couldn’t stop laughing at the mission gone wonky they were telling you about.

When 79s came into view your smile widens. There really is nothing like the neon lights and bass you can already hear resonating from inside. Were there probably millions of places just like in on Coruscant already? Sure. But there isn’t anywhere aside from 79s you could find this kind of ambiance.

There is one downside that pisses you off like no other though.

There’s yelling coming from over by the speeder-way and when you look over, another civilian is getting in the face of a Coruscant guard member. The frown the graces your face feels wrong after laughing so much, but you can’t help it. You pause in your tracks. Usually when you see this kinda shit it deescalates fairly quickly, but this civilian is getting louder and more violent the more the (admittedly nervous acting) guard tried to calm him down.

“Hey.” A hand lands on your shoulder and you look up to see one of your group. “We can’t do anything. The punishment would be too harsh and that civvie chakaar won’t even get a slap on the wrist.”

Your frown turns into a snarl. “You can’t do anything.”

Fishing your flask out of your jacket pocket you take a swig before shoving it into the chest of the closest trooper. The steady click of your heels is the only thing you can hear over the growing volume of yelling.

“Hey! Shabuir in the stupid shirt!” Your own yell interrupts.

You have exactly one second to reconsider things before you think about all the vitriol this jackass is spewing at the guard for nothing. The sound of your fist hitting his face is the most satisfying thing you’ve heard tonight, along with the yelp he lets out when he hits the ground.

“What the kriff is your problem, bitch?!”

“You talking shit about this trooper is my problem!”

He turns towards the guard again and the trooper flinches. “I want her arrested for battery!”

You lean down to grab his collar and shake him out. “Oh, so now you want him to do his job? The one you were just belittling him for? Can’t have it both ways, chakaar!”

“Let go of me!”

You drop him so suddenly that his head cracks against the ground. He scrambles to his feet and points a finger at you. “You’ll regret this! They’re nothing but meat-droids!”

“Say that again, you little pissant. I dare you.” You go to take a step forward but he’s already running away. A hand on your shoulder again makes you look over to the one you defended.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” And he does sound sorry. “I will have to take you in tonight. I… can’t ignore you attacking someone right in front of me.”

You smile at him. “No problem, trooper. Do your job; I don’t want you getting in trouble.” You offer your wrists to him and next thing you know they’re in a pair of binders behind your back and you’re being placed in the back of a speeder.

“A night in the drunk tank should sort you out.”

The smile you give him is blinding, because not only do you know that’s not the proper booking for what you just did, at least you look cute while you’re being taken away.

---

When you wake up in your cell (lucky you’re the only one there) you’re beyond tired and in desperate need of some caf. You can’t function without it in the morning.

There’s a guard member who lets you out not long after you get up. You follow him like a zombie. Presumably he’s leading you out of all the twisting hallways, but you stop short when your nose picks up the distinct smell of caf.

But not just any caf. You know the smell of Death Wish anywhere.

Your favorite.

You follow your nose to a mess hall – sparsely populated but still enough that everyone stops what they’re doing to look at you as you make your way to the caf machines in the back. You’re basically falling asleep as you walk so you don’t notice. Maybe you should care, considering you’re still wearing your clubbing outfit from last night, but no, you don’t actually care.

When you get there you see two different machines. One is labeled with some cheap, generic caf name and the other is simply “Fox’s Starfighter Fuel.”

You grab a flimsi cup and fill it with the second one. No cream. No sugar.

No life, only caf.

You finally notice how deathly quite it is as you take your first sip and turn around. There’s one trooper standing in front of you, helmet tucked under his arm, and the most severe look you’ve ever seen before gracing his features. You look him over with half-lidded eyes, noticing he’s dressed differently than the others, and casually take another sip of caf.

“You must be Fox.”

“Civilians aren’t allowed in this part of the building, who let you in here?”

Still waiting for the caf to kick in, you shrug. “Spent the night in the tank. No one stopped me when I walked in.”

Fox turns to glare at everyone sitting at the tables. They all look down at their food like they weren’t obviously watching and someone starts whistling.

“You need to leave,” he says when he turns back around.

“Can I finish my caf first?” You ask, taking more sips hoping to stall.

He glowers even more. “That’s not even your caf!”

“Shame.” You chug the rest of the still mostly full cup and coughs wrack your chest when you finish. “I think I just burned my esophagus,” you rasp.

“Get out.”

“That’s completely fair.”

You toss your cup in the trash on the way out. Turning the way you were going before you got distracted, you make your way to the exit; no need to bring the wrath of Fox down on you for sticking around. You feel like, once again, you get off light and dont’t want to press your luck. The smile that graces your face as you step outside is probably a strange thing for anyone else to see considering you’re walking out of jail, but you had a good night, and the morning is shaping up to follow suit.

---

The next day you walk into the caf shop you normally stop at on the way to work. The barista behind the counter waves as you walk up. “Your usual, hun?”

“You know me,” you smile brightly, “but, uh, can you make it two?”

Her eyes widen. “I can’t imagine the morning you’re expecting to have!”

You laugh and wave her off. “Nothing bad. I owe someone a cup.”

“You mean someone else drinks this sludge?”

“Imagine my surprise. And it’s not that bad!”

She places two large flimsi cups in front of you. Your hands rub together nervously before you get your thoughts together. “Can I borrow your marker?”

She hands it to you with a raised eyebrow and you quickly scribble a few words on one of the cups. It isn’t a lot, and it completely gives away who you are without having to sign your name, so you hope it’s okay.

“Thanks, gotta run!” You scurry out of the door before the barista can ask anything about what you’re doing.

You aren’t even sure yourself if you were being completely honest. The Coruscant Guard building is a little out of your way from your route to work, but you leave early in the mornings anyway, so you can still make it in time even with the detour. You feel a bit nervous walking in this time. Where did all your confidence from yesterday go?

You flag down the first trooper you see that doesn’t look busy.

“Can you give this to Fox, please?” You hold out the cup for him to take.

He doesn’t.

He only stands there, and you imagine he’s making a face behind his helmet because he doesn’t say anything either.

After a few seconds of silence you lower the cup awkwardly. “Uhh, oh, sorry, am I allowed to bring caf?”

“Why are you bringing the Commander caf?” He finally asks.

You squeeze the cups so much the tops almost pops off. “Fox is a commander?”

“Commander Fox is head of the Coruscant Guard, ma’am.”

The top of your own cup does pop off this time, but nothing spills.

“The entire guard?” You squeak.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Heat is quick to crawl up your face. “Oh stars, I can’t believe I took his caf.” Your internal panic is quickly becoming external as you try not to drop either cup. You hid your face behind one in embarrassment.

“Wait.” The guard member tilts his head. “You’re the one they were talking about yesterday? The girl from the mess hall?”

There’s a few second where nothing but incomprehensible noises come out of your mouth, but you finally get out, “how many people know about that?!”

“It’s made its way around.”

“I’m gonna - kriff - go throw myself off the senate building I swear-“

You’re cut off by the sound of a chuckle and you snap your head up to see the guard member’s shoulders shaking. “So you’re not trying to poison the Commander, huh?”

“No!” You yelp, but quiet down after you see others turn to look at you. “I was just trying to repay the caf I drank! We like the same kind!”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Can you please just give this to him before I die of embarrassment? You’re killing me here!”

He laughs again and finally takes the cup from your shaking hands. “Who should I say it’s from?”

You slap a hand over your face to hide your grimace. “At this point I’d rather not tell you. I want to keep some of my dignity intact,” you mutter.

“Nobody’s dignity is intact here, ma’am.”

“Oh… joy.”

“You best be on your way then.”

He is giving you an out and you’re taking it in full.

“Have a good day,” you say as you turn, the only proof you’ve been there being one guard member and a note on a flimsi cup.

“Sorry for taking your caf yesterday.”

---

One week later you find yourself standing outside of the caf shop, once again with two cups in hand through no fault of your own. It makes you think that maybe another trip to the Coruscant Guard building wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Why waste a perfectly good drink after all?

You pause immediately when you step through the door, because the man you’re looking for is standing across the room talking to someone with a datapad in hand. The decision on whether to interrupt is made for you when the person he’s talking to looks over and spots you.

He waves and Fox finally looks over as well, tilting his head as he does so. You take a deep breath before walking over to them.

“Caf girl!”

You raised your eyebrow at the other trooper. “I really am known around here for that, aren’t I?” You say as you stop in front of them. You have a sneaking suspicion that he is the same one you talked to last week.

“Well you never gave me your name,” he shrugs.

Yeah, it’s him.

Your head snaps to Fox, however, when he addresses you.

“You know my name?”

“Your information was processed and put into the system when you spent the night in the tank.”

“Osik,” you mutter.

“Did you need something?” He asks.

You perk up some, and hold out the second drink in your hand. “Right, there was a mixup at the caf shop, and I got an extra drink. I thought you might like it.”

He takes it carefully, but your bare fingers still brush against his gloved ones. They tingle when you pull away, and while the heat on your palm from holding the hot cup fades, the heat in your fingertips does not. You have the sudden urge to find out what holding his hand feels like, but you push that thought down along with the blush you can feel rising. Now isn’t the time. You have to get to work. Maybe if you come by earlier next time….. would there be a next time?

“Thank you. I… appreciate the thought.” You think you hear him trip over his words, but there’s no way.

You smile brightly at him. “You’re welcome!” You check the time on your chrono. “Looks like I gotta bounce. Enjoy your caf, Commander!”

Your retreat is quick, but hells if you don’t add a little extra sway to your hips as you walk out the doors.

And scribbled on the cup now in Fox’s hand is:

“I know day old caf when I taste it. Fresh is better.”

---

You start to bring Fox caf every week.

“This has become part of my routine, so I hope you don’t mind.”

Every week turns into every few days.

“Your filing system is horrifying but at least your chair is comfy.”

Every few days turns into every day.

“Tell Thorn that if he sees me at 79s tonight, he can’t arrest me just so I’ll hang out with him.”

And leaving early just to see Fox is the best part of your day no matter what. You hope you’re not the only one who feels like this. That maybe as you walk to the Guard building in the morning, you’re not the only one smiling and counting down the minutes until you get to Fox’s office. He never turns you away, and he’s always there to take the extra caf from your hands if he can be. Sometimes you have to leave it on his desk if he’s not in, but you understand that his job isn’t easy by any stretch of the word.

He is in this morning, however, seeing as the door opens promptly at your knock. He sits behind his desk, a few data pads already stacked next to him and a frown marring his face. That won’t do.

“Credit for your thoughts?” You say as you set his caf down next to his helmet and lean against his desk.

Fox looks up and gives you a tired smile, unaware of how it makes your stomach flutter. “Shaping up to be a long day.”

“Giving yourself more grey hairs already?” You say, giving a pointed look to his already greying sides.

“Like I need any more,” he huffs.

“I dunno,” you reach up and run your fingers lightly through his short curls, “I think they make you look distinguished.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t know he had been holding. “At least one of us thinks so.”

“It’s okay, I can like it enough for the both of us.”

“Should I count myself lucky then?” He smirks, finally taking a sip of his caf and sighing contently into the cup.

You give him a cheeky grin. “You should.”

He looks at you then, not saying anything, and you can’t help the flush you feel crawling up your face. You swear, you had never blushed so much around anyone before you met him. You distract yourself by drinking your own caf, the liquid welcome to your suddenly dry mouth.

“I do.”

“What?” Your head snaps back up to him and he’s still looking at you, but not in a way you’ve seen before.

“I do count myself lucky.”

You look away shyly, a small smile forming at the corners of your mouth. Sure, you two have been lightly flirting with each other, or at at least you’re definitely flirting with him, but this is the most straight-forward thing he’s ever said to you.

“It’s a good thing I got myself arrested that night then, isn’t it?”

It’s uncharted territory, where this conversation is heading. The thought of what it could be sits low in your belly and causes you to let out a shakey breath.

“It’s quite the holovid to watch,” he says offhandedly.

You’re lucky you aren’t drinking your caf, otherwise you would have spit it everywhere. You turn your head so hard you think you give yourself whiplash, mouth agape, looking at him in wide-eyed mortification.

“There’s a holo of that?!” The pitch of your voice would be embarrassing if you weren’t in the middle of spontaneously combusting on the inside.

He nods empathetically, which is shit because you know for damn sure he’s not empathetic about it; he’s having too much fun with this. You know he is, with that stupid, heart-stopping smirk playing on his face.

“Our HUDs record each incident for our files to make sure everything matches up with the reports.”

“Nooooooooooooo,” you whine quietly into your hands that now cover your face. You hear him get up and move to stand in front of you, but you don’t react. Mainly because you have no idea what he’s doing, but also he’s so kriffing close you can barely handle it.

His pries your hands from your face and presses them to his desk, effectively caging you in. He’s even closer now, and you’re hyper aware of how hard your heart is pounding even though you stop breathing. It’s the last thing from threatening, but you’re still frozen.

He leans in so his mouth is right next to your ear. “You look good in that little red dress of yours,” he whispers, his voice octaves lower than before. “Especially when you’re beating the kark out of a civvie – standing up for my vod.” It sends a pleasurable shiver down your spine and straight to your ovaries.

You suck in a breath when he pulls away. This is much more than you could have expected. “You’re not giving me much incentive to not be arrested again,” you tilt your head, “now that I know you’d be watching.”

“Always watching you, cyare.”

You hum, pulling one hand away from his to run up his armor and trace lightly over his jaw. “Gonna have to try harder to get a pair of binders on me next time, then.”

“Would you run?”

“Only if you’re the one chasing me.”

You move your hand from his jaw to the back of his neck and scratch lightly, feeling more than seeing him shiver under your fingertips.

“I’d find you.”

“Oh, I’d be counting on it, Commander.”

It’s a mutual surge that leads you two to lean in, culminating in the most charged kiss you’ve ever received. You throw your other hand around his neck, holding him as close as you can, while his hands latch onto your hips, pulling you up and into his embrace. He leads you back until he’s sitting in his chair and the next thing you know you’re falling into his lap to straddle him. You break for air, and to process that yes, this is happening, before you’re kissing again. A little slower; a little deeper.

You moan quietly into his mouth, and his hands move to your ass so he can pull you even closer.

There’s a chime from your chrono and you pull away, panting.

Fox’s eyes are dark and hungry when he looks at you. “You have to go soon.”

You nod, not breaking eye contact, and not moving either.

He grins, and it looks absolutely predatory. He slides the top of your blouse down slowly, just enough for his mouth to latch on to you right above your collarbone. You let out another breathy moan, and his teeth graze your skin in response as he sucks harder. His tongue soothes the area over when he lets go, and he looks at the quickly darkening spot with what you can only assume is possessive pride.

“For you to remember,” he says huskily.

Knowing he’s just staked his claim on you stokes the fire inside you even more. You give him your own feral grin, and pull down the collar of his blacks as he stiffens. “Who am I to allow you to forget, then?”

You suck hard at the column of his throat, higher than he did on you, knowing it would still be covered. You taste the sweat that had been building up, and his skin which you can’t even describe except that it tastes like him.

He groans lowly into your ear and you shiver when you pull away. You drag your nail lightly over the dark bruise in satisfaction before pulling his collar back up.

You slide off his armored thighs slowly. He follows you to stand, and gives you one last, long, kiss.

“Until next time, cyare.”

When you leave his office, you wish you had written something more on his cup than a crudely drawn fox with a smiley face next to it. Tomorrow though, you wonder what you can get away with saying.

“Next time I’m wearing that little red dress, feel free to search me. Who knows what I could be hiding.”

#prior writes #star wars #swtcw #clone wars #the clone wars #commander fox #cc 1010 #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #afab!reader #coruscant guard #writing #fanfic

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