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pan-de-queer · 1 year

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valleys behind your kneecaps (supercorp)

Genre: Fluff, No Powers AU

Summary:

Sam clasps her hands together as she leans almost halfway over the table. “Will you please do this for me?” “Sam—” “I’ll never complain about your restaurant choices ever again, you can keep the modeling payment, and I’ll buy you lunch for two weeks straight.” “I’m an heiress, Sam, I really don’t need the payment or free lunch.” “That last part wasn’t a bribe, it’s a threat.” Lena scoffs, rolling her eyes as she fights a smile. “Fine. I’ll do your little modeling thing.”

Or: Lena's a med student, Kara's an artist, and somehow they still fall in love.

Author's Note: i did a writing test for work and i couldn't get my head to write original blorbos without an outline so i wrote supercorp instead and then changed the names so this is the og of that test (but longer bc i can't shut up about these idiots fr) oh also happy belated(??) valentines i guess! title from Kindling by Caitlyn Siehl and unbetaed for now (knowing me, the fic might get longer when i edit lol)

UPDATE: i edited :))) and added around 500+ words

ao3

valleys behind your kneecaps

Lena rarely ever gets time for herself.

It comes with the territory, she knows that. Being a med student means sacrificing a lot to become the doctor the Luthors have always expected of her.

It probably helps that her social life wasn’t all that affected.

Her grand total of three friends all understood the pressure she was under and the work she constantly has to do to stay on top. Still, that didn’t mean they didn’t force her to take a break every now and then.

Which is how Lena finds herself here, at Noonan’s, enjoying brunch with Sam on a sunny Thursday morning. Or, well, she was enjoying it until Sam gets a call from Ruby’s school and asks for a favor. A weird one.

“You want me to model for you?” Lena laughs, her sides cramping up. She laughs so hard she chokes on her kale and salmon salad. She laughs until she realizes that Sam isn’t laughing along. Until she realizes that Sam is dead serious.

“Oh.” Lena blinks, jaw clamping shut at Sam’s wide, pleading eyes.

“Please, Lena, it’s in half an hour and they wouldn’t be able to find a replacement so last minute and you know how Ruby gets when I make her wait.”

“She gets it from you,” Lena scoffs, dusting nonexistent dirt off the spot next to her coffee. “Besides, shouldn’t I be coming along to check on Ruby’s health?”

“Okay, first of all, rude! Secondly, you’re a medical student training to be a surgeon, not a pedia.”

“It’s not like I don’t know enough of the basics to check on her.”

“No. The school nurse already gave her the all-clear she just needs to go home and rest. Now.” Sam clasps her hands together as she leans almost halfway over the table. “Will you please do this for me?”

“Sam—”

“I’ll never complain about your restaurant choices ever again, you can keep the modeling payment, and I’ll buy you lunch for two weeks straight.”

“I’m an heiress, Sam, I really don’t need the payment or free lunch.”

“That last part wasn’t a bribe, it’s a threat.”

Lena scoffs, rolling her eyes as she fights a smile. “Fine. I’ll do your little modeling thing.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Sam drops a sloppy kiss on Lena’s forehead before she grabs her things, backing away with her purse in one hand and her phone in the other. “The class is in Studio C. Just tell the instructor I sent you! Thank you!”

Sam disappears out the doors before her last thank you even ends and Lena’s left alone with her half-eaten brunch and a sudden appointment to keep.

The things Lena does for her friends.

With a sigh, Lena finishes her salad and coffee before exiting the café that stood right across the cursed art studio. Sam had been modeling part-time for DEO Studio for almost two years now and had even invited Lena and their usual friend group (consisting of Jack and Andrea) to take some beginner’s classes for fun. Lena had never accepted the offer, of course, what with all the studying and hospital rounds she always had to do, but she’d always been supportive of her friend’s varying choice of part-time jobs (she kept trying to convince Sam to just ask for a raise, after all, she’d been the one to convince Lex to hire her, but Sam was too much of a wimp to negotiate with Lillian).

As Lena walks across the cracked, paved street and pushes open clear, glass doors, she wonders if she’s being a little too supportive this time.

The inside of the studio is clean and minimalist, brick walls painted white surrounds the space with a simple, wooden front desk greeting everyone who enters. A small waiting lounge is lined up in front of the studio’s towering glass windows and the walls have fewer paintings and pictures than Lena assumed there’d be in an art studio. A large, sculpted art piece stands off to the side to seemingly make up for the lack of them.

“Hello! Welcome to DEO Studio.” A young woman greets her from behind the desk. “Can I help you with anything?”

Lena shuffles towards the reception desk, the weight of Sam’s favor slowly starting to hit her. “Um, yes. My friend, Samantha Arias, had an emergency to take care of and asked me to sub-in for her modeling work today.”

Truly, the strangest, almost laughable sentence she’s ever said.

Lena?

A model?

Ha!

“Oh! Yes, I’m familiar with Sam. I’m Nia!” Nia stands to offer her a handshake and despite the nerves starting to creep into her chest, Lena takes it with all the poise of an heiress.

“Hi, Nia. Lena. Sam said that the class is in Studio C and that I should tell the instructor she sent me?”

“Yes, alright, let me lead you to the studio and I can explain the situation to the instructor.”

Nia circles around the desk to lead her down the entrance to the left and Lena follows with a soft, “Thank you so much.”

Lena folds her hands behind her back to keep them from twisting, a habit Lillian is still trying to fix. Instead, Lena focuses on the way the studio is laid out, channeling her nerves into taking stock of her surroundings. The hallways are as white and nondescript as the front room, but Lena takes note of the two photography studios and a sculpting studio that they pass before stopping at a nondescript glass door at the end of the hall.

Nia enters first and holds the door open for her to follow. When she enters, the first thing Lena notices is that while the room remains white, paintings and drawings and posters litter two free walls from floor to ceiling. One wall is covered with shelving, closets, cabinets, and a dressing room, neatly labeled with big, printed stickers, while a huge panel of windows cover the wall opposite the door. A small, raised platform stands in the middle of the room, far enough from the door to be difficult to see immediately but right in the middle of the well-lit room.

Seven easels circle the platform with three of the wooden chairs accompanying each easel already occupied by an artist setting up their sketchpad and materials. An eighth easel stands in the far left corner of the room, farthest from the windows and door, and has a tall, tan goddess standing next to it who seems occupied with organizing her own materials.

Lena is frozen at the sight of the woman, but Nia walks straight towards the Adonis of a blonde, exchanging a hushed conversation that includes a few glances her way that Lena uses as an excuse to politely take a look at the woman she assumes she’s working with.

The maybe-instructor is taller than her, looking down at Nia with a furrow between her blonde brows and an adorable tilt to her head. She wears cute, blocky glasses that frame eyes that, without even seeing them, Lena knows are gorgeous. Plump pink lips are twisted into a frown as the woman nods at whatever Nia is telling her. She’s dressed in a comfy-looking plaid button up, the sleeves rolled up tightly on her forearms and her biceps obviously straining under the cotton. Before Lena’s gaze can fall any lower, though, Nia and the maybe-instructor start walking her way and Lena’s breath catches as she finally gets a good look at the woman’s face.

Bright blue eyes crinkle adorably at the corners as a tan nose wrinkles over a welcoming grin. Lena is pretty sure the woman’s smile can stop wars. It was art in itself.

“Hi!” The woman of Lena’s dreams greets with an outstretched hand as they come to a stop in front of her. “Nia told me that you’re subbing in for Sam and I’m really thankful for the assist! I’m Kara, Kara Danvers.”

By some miracle, Lena’s brain manages to react before she can even fully process what’s happening. Her hand slipping into a warm, calloused one as she replies, “Lena. I’m happy to be here.”

“And we’re glad to have you!” Kara beams, her smile somehow brightening even more. “Follow me and I’ll show you what you’ll be doing for today’s class.”

Like a moth to a flame, Lena followed Kara through the studio, barely remembering to thank Nia for the guidance as Kara starts talking a mile a minute.

“So today’s class is an intermediate drawing class, so everyone’s used to working with a model already. We normally start every model-work class with quick line sketching before you have to do the whole sitting still for an hour thing.” Just when Lena thinks Kara’s finished her explanation, her eyes widen and she keeps going. “Oh! Did Sam tell you you’d have to be sitting still for this? It can feel kind of awkward and cramp-y at first but if you need any breaks you can just signal me and I can give you a minute or two to stretch but—”

“Kara.” Lena lays a hand on the art instructor’s strong, broad shoulder, realizing that if she continued to keep quiet then Kara will never stop. “I get it, it’s fine. And I’ve modeled before, kind of.”

Luthor Corp promotionals and Lillian’s constant need to showcase the perfect family image definitely counts as modeling in Lena’s book.

“Oh! Really? That’s so cool!” Kara seems to breathe a little easier at her touch. “Are you, like, a professional model or something?”

Lena laughs, flattered but also mystified. She knew she had some looks, as many of the wealthy creeps and paparazzi liked to remind her, but she was far from model material. Lillian made sure to remind her of that every time she was pictured out in public.

Still, the fact that Kara thinks so is sweet.

“No, I’m definitely not model material,” Lena shakes her head, smile wry and shoulders tight. “I’m a med student.”

Kara hums, lips pursed thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t be all that fair if you were a model. You’d be too perfect. Beauty and brains? Definitely cheating.”

Heat blooms from Lena’s neck to her cheeks, Kara’s smile widening as blue eyes seem to trace every touch of pink on her face. Hoping to pull the attention away from her flaming cheeks, Lena ducks her head and asks, “So, what do I need to do first?”

The question seems to snap Kara back into work mode, because then, Lena’s being shown the different kinds of poses most class models go for before being offered a floor pillow or a chair to model on. Lena chooses the chair and only has enough time to thank Kara for carrying it to the platform before the class begins.

Introductions are made briefly at the start as Lena’s the only new person amongst the group, and then the actual class and modeling starts. Lena builds a rhythm with the warm up sketches, getting comfortable with quick poses and holding them for a minute before moving on to the next. The room is filled with the sound of pencil scratching paper and Lena feels the most relaxed she’s been in years.

There’s something freeing about being a small class model. She isn’t striking any kind of dramatic pose and yet every movement is art. Every slouch of her shoulders and stretch of her leg is something these people can turn beautiful.

(It also helps that Kara praises her after every pose, a warmth Lena refuses to name surrounding her from the inside out.)

A few minutes later, Kara moves to stand next to Lena on the platform with her sketchpad in hand and starts the actual drawing lessons. Lena finds herself captivated with the way Kara speaks, passionate and excited and bright. She watches sure, strong hands wave in every direction, blue eyes widening and narrowing with every explanation and example Kara gives. Eventually, Kara returns to her easel and calls for everyone to start drawing in detail, and Lena manages to fall into a pose sitting comfortably in the direction of the instructor herself.

She uses the position to give her an excuse to look Kara’s way. Watches blonde brows furrowing as Kara stares at her own sketchpad with a slight pout to her pink lips. Steady fingers make varying strokes on the paper as a slender wrist twists this way and that. It’s only a couple minutes later that Lena notices the constant rhythm of Kara’s pencil strokes suddenly still. Green eyes move from long fingers to broad shoulders to tilted lips and then sparkling blues.

Busted.

Kara seems amused at catching Lena staring, even a little pleased if Lena were to believe her imagination. But Lena was never much of a believer, so she put on her Luthor mask and pushed back her embarrassment at being caught, raising a challenging brow instead.

Kara only responds with a smug smile before diving back into her own drawing.

Lena lets out a shaky breath as the attention (or Kara’s attention, at least) shifts. She tries to return to her previous position and attempts to focus on the art scattering the wall.

She fails.

Green eyes unintentionally stray towards bright blue eyes and perfect blonde hair, and then the cycle repeats.

Lena stares.

She gets caught.

Kara smiles.

Rinse.

Repeat.

Fall.

By the time Kara finally calls for everyone to show their drawings, Lena almost feels as if they were flirting.

But why would a walking goddess flirt with her?

“Alright, class!” Kara claps her hands as Lena leans against one of the art-covered walls, finally free from sitting in the middle of the room. “Great work today! I can see that you’re all getting faster and some of you are even developing your own art styles. Keep practicing and I’ll see you all next week!”

The students all leave, none seemingly interested in staying behind for a chat but all giving Kara and Lena a quick glance as they leave.

(So maybe she threw subtle out the window after Kara caught her staring the first time. Sue her.)

Once the last student makes their way out, Kara steps off the platform and makes her way over, smile tilted on her pretty, pink lips.

“You stayed,” Kara’s voice is soft, breathy.

“Well,” Lena smiles, feels her chest warming at the way Kara says it. “I-” was hoping to ask you out. I think you’re super hot; here’s my number. I am so gay. All excellent and accurate choices, really, and yet the words that come out of Lena’s mouth are: “I wasn’t sure if you paid Sam after every class or every month.”

Kara’s eyes widen before a sheepish smile replaces it and suddenly Lena feels like she’s fucked up. “Oh, I almost forgot. I mean, I didn’t! I never forget to pay Sam. Fair pay! Y’know? Um, just, sorry, the modeling payment’s usually with Nia or J’onn.”

Lena feels the warmth start to fade as Kara takes a noticeable step back. Oh. Fuck.

“Wait!” Lena winces at the volume of her own voice but lets out a breath as she watches Kara freeze. “Sorry, I meant, um, I don’t need the payment right now. Or ever, really.”

Kara’s brows furrow as Lena tries to sort through her thoughts. “Well that doesn’t sound fair, Lena. We make it a practice to pay everyone who works for us. I’m pretty sure it’s both unethical and illegal to not pay your employees and when you model for us, you’re technically like a freelance employee. So we’ll obviously pay you for your time.”

“Kara?” Lena rushes in the second Kara pauses for a breath.

“Yeah?”

“I understand the legal requirements and all, but I did this as a favor for a friend, so what I meant was that you can keep the payment and give it to Sam, instead.” Lena smiles, aiming for reassuring. “I don’t need the money, and, honestly, the payment thing wasn’t what I really wanted to say.”

Kara sucks in a breath at the admission, blue eyes wide as a hopeful look crosses her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Lena sucks in a breath, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet as she tries to pluck any semblance of courage to ask a ridiculously gorgeous girl out.

“I really liked your lesson,” Lena starts, far from what she was hoping to say but a start nonetheless.

“Thanks,” Kara smiles, earnest but a little confused. “You did great for a non-professional model.”

Lena chuckles in reply, smile crooked as she tries to bite it down. “Thanks. I had some high expectations to meet.”

“Well, consider them met.”

And Kara’s so sincere, so cute as she stuffs her pencil-smudged hands into her pockets, that Lena decides, fuck it. What does she have to lose? She can ask Kara out and get a date or simply avoid the woman for the rest of her life. Easy.

“Kara,” Lena lets out a breath, green eyes glued to the paint splatter stuck on Kara’s faded sneakers. “I was wondering if you’d like to have coffee some time.”

The words on a date are stuck in her throat, but Lena considers it a big enough win that she asked at all. So she waits, lungs frozen and heart drumming in her chest for a rejection she expects and a miracle she hopes for. She’s focusing on keeping her breathing steady when a warm hand envelopes hers. Slowly, she looks up to find Kara beaming, a smile brighter than every single smile Kara’s given her today combined, blonde waves bouncing up and down excitedly.

“I’d love to have coffee with you some time.” Lena feels Kara’s hand squeeze hers gently before blue eyes crinkle further as Kara’s smile widens impossibly brighter. “But only on one condition.”

“Anything.” Lena says. Everything, she thinks.

Kara leans in closer, close enough that Lena can tell each shade of blue in her eyes. “Can coffee be a date?”

And Lena laughs, because yes. Yes. “I’d love nothing more.”

#cw supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fic #my writing #the prompt was for a student doctor to meet the 'love of their life' in an art studio for the test and my brain went 'that's supercorp'#it's ass o clock in the morning here and i have work in a couple hours so i'll edit later this evening if i finish work early hahahaha #idk how i feel about this the flow doesn't seem smooth to me but! easily fixable for a more coherent brain so #enjoy!!#UPDATE: edited!#queer bread writes

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tuiccim · 4 months

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Pickup Game

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3509

Warnings: Flirt, Fluff, Smut, Oral (f rec)

Summary: An after party game of pickup lines leads to a confession and an even more fun night in bed.

A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.

The after party of just Avengers and close friends was in full swing. Drinks and laughter flowed as you enjoyed each other's company.

“Okay, okay. Your best pick up line! Let’s have ‘em!” Clint yells over the most recent spate of laughter. “Tony, whatcha got?”

Tony smirks before opening his arms wide and declaring, “I am Iron Man.” He grins as everyone heckles him, “What can I say? Works every time!”

“Really?” Pepper raises an eyebrow.

“Used to! Used to work,” Tony backpedals. “Rhodey, save me here, buddy!”

“Okay, okay,” Rhodey laughs as he glances at Natasha who is standing by him and tugs at his sleeve, “Feel my shirt. Know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material.”

"Nice," Natasha scoffs.

"Let's hear yours then!" Rhodey huffs.

"Ever had a White Russian?" Natasha asks, holding up her glass.

"No," Rhodey looks at her suspiciously.

"Want to?" She says seductively.

Rhodey chuckles, "Smooth. Okay, Clint, what've you got?"

Clint bats his eyes at Sam, standing next to him and says, "Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes, big boy?"

Sam laughs while rolling his eyes, "So, what you guys are telling me is that you have no game?"

"Give us your best then, Rocket Man!"

"You know, dating is a numbers game. So, can I have yours?" Sam grins.

"Boooring!" Tony heckles. "Steve, what's your favorite?"

"I've never been good with pickup lines. That was more Bucky's territory," Steve tilts his head towards the dark-haired super soldier.

"Thanks," Bucky says sarcastically, "I'm a little out of practice with pickup lines."

"Aw, come on, Buck, give it a shot," you pipe in and then try to hide your embarrassment at having drawn attention to yourself. Even though you hoped he'd test out the line on you. Your attraction to the man was undeniable and you'd harbored a crush since you'd met him. You leaned back against the wall with your hands behind your back and raised your eyebrow in challenge to him.

Bucky's face betrayed a moment of discomfiture before he straightened his shoulders and stepped over to you. He placed a hand on the wall above you, leaning in with a small smirk, "If I told you you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"

You could hear some chuckling and comments in the background but it faded as you stared up at Bucky. God, he was fine as hell and you were doing your best to control your erratic heartbeat.

"Sorry, doll, that wasn't very good, huh?"

You don't know where the gall came from but, before you realized what you were doing the words slipped out of your mouth. "Don't worry, Buck, I'm not big on being picked up. I prefer to be pinned down." Your eyebrow raised as you said the words and you smirked, bringing your glass to your lips for a sip.

Bucky's jaw drops as the room erupts in laughter and cheers. Tony crows, "She wins!"

Clint laughs heartily as he agrees, "Hands down!"

After a few moments, you reach up and close Bucky's mouth, “And to answer your questions, yes, I would,” you whisper with a wink as you walk away.

A little while later, the party was winding down and you decided it was time to slip out. Your nerves were getting the better of you. Thoughts ran amuck as to what Bucky thought of you and whether the attraction you felt was reciprocated. He’d been in a conversation with some of the guys since the game ended and you hoped to catch a glimpse, some sign of mutual interest but now you were walking away with your tail between your legs. God, what must he think of you and that brazen comment.

Hitting the button for the elevator, you berate yourself for thinking you ever stood a chance. Your head snapped up when a deep voice whispered, “You know, you have a beautiful body.”

Grinning, you turn and press yourself against Bucky, “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Bucky smirks at you. Without warning, he stoops and picks you up as if you weigh nothing.

“Bucky!” You squeal as the elevator doors open.

He carries you in, hitting the button for his floor with his elbow, “Don’t worry, doll. I know you aren’t big on being picked up but I’ll have you pinned down soon enough.”

You raise your eyebrow at him, “It was just a line, Buck.”

His confidence falters for a second, “Oh, uh-”

“Don’t worry, baby. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it,” you smirk.

“Oh, you’re naughty,” Bucky laughs.

“I prefer ‘playful’.”

“I like playful,” Bucky adjusts you in his arms so that your back is pressed to the elevator wall and your faces are at the same level.

You use the opportunity to wrap your legs around him and look at him expectantly.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

You’re surprised by the request after the way he’d handled you. It warmed your heart that he would seek your consent and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, “Please.”

The kiss is intense. He presses into you as his lips move over yours. His tongue slips out seeking entry and you oblige him immediately. You separate only when the elevator dings your arrival. He lowers your legs gently and takes your hand. Leading you down the hallway, Bucky says awkwardly, “I, uh, was kind of surprised when you, um, said that tonight.”

“What? The pickup line?” You tilt your head as you look at him.

“No, the… thing you whispered afterwards.”

“Really, why?” You thought your feelings for him were fairly obvious.

“I mean, I’m a mess and you’re so put together. I just,” he shrugs, “kinda thought you were out of my league, ya know.”

“No,” you laugh, “no, I don’t know. I have never thought of myself as put together. Thanks for that but I’m kind of a mess, too. I think we all are in our own ways.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Bucky smiles as he opens his door and guides you in.

You suddenly feel awkward as you walk inside the room. The passion displayed in the elevator had mellowed as you walked and talked together into a camaraderie. You were unsure how to get back to it.

“Would you like a drink?” Bucky asks as he comes up behind you, his lips brushing your neck and his hands caress your hips. You jump a little at the unexpected contact.

“I think I had enough earlier,” you breathe, heat pooling between your legs.

“I haven’t had enough, I haven’t had nearly enough. I need another taste,” Bucky says as he turns you around to capture your mouth. You oblige him willingly, snaking your arms around his neck as you arch into him.

Abandoning any reserve you would normally have, you reach for the buttons on his shirt. He reaches for the zipper of your dress but his hands still. You pull back to look at him curiously.

“You’re sure?” He asks.

You smile and pull the tails of his shirt from his pants while saying, “Barnes, if you don’t get me naked and pin me down, I will never forgive you.”

He pulls you against him forcefully, grinning as he pulls down your zipper, “We can’t have that.”

Clothes are discarded quickly as he backs you to the bed. Bucky slides his hands into your panties to grab your ass and you gasp when he picks you up. Laying you on the bed he pulls your panties off. You expect him to follow you down but instead his eyes take a slow path up your body. Propping yourself on your elbows, you resist the urge to cover yourself but tremble as he studies you. He smiles, grabs a discarded t-shirt, and rips the bottom half from it. Your eyebrow raises at the display.

“And what do you plan to do with that, Sgt. Barnes?”

His smirk as he advances has butterflies dancing in your stomach. He grabs your arms, twists the shirt around your wrists, and hauls them above your head as he pins you to the bed.

“Happy now?” Bucky rumbles as he kisses your neck.

“Almost. I’d like these off,” you use your legs to pull at the underwear he still has on, “and an orgasm or two would be nice.”

Holy shit, you don’t know where this confidence had come from. Maybe because Bucky wanted you. Maybe because of whatever drink that was that Natasha had handed you. Whatever it was, you were enjoying the results.

“Only one or two?” Bucky teases as he nibbles along your clavicle. “I bet I can do better.”

“Is that so?” You gasp as his tongue plays over your nipple.

“Mm-hm,” he murmurs before plucking at your other nipple with his lips. He lets go of your hands that are still bound above your head as he slides his tongue down your stomach. Your breathing picks up when he reaches your navel and proceeds to kiss his way down to your mound. Your eyes screw shut to take in every sensation. When he spreads your legs further apart, you feel the contrast of warm skin and cool metal on your thighs. Anticipation builds, making you lick your lips and you can’t help the whimper that slips out when you feel a gentle finger trace your slit.

“Fuck,” Bucky whispers reverently before his tongue follows the same path as his fingers. His metal arm curls around your leg and he rests his hand on your abdomen, effectively holding you in place as he explores your folds. It was almost unbearable, the way his tongue slid around to touch everywhere but where you needed him most.

“Bucky, please,” you whimper desperately.

His chuckle rumbles against your core. His fingers replace his tongue, taking the same lazy path. “Poor baby, am I not giving you what you want?” His finger tip barely grazes your clit and you whine. “Are you feeling needy?” His finger circles your entrance and his tongue gives the softest lick to your clit. Your hips flex, desperate for more friction, making Bucky press his metal hand more firmly against you. “I like seeing you like this.” Another small lick to your clit. “Wet, under me, and so desperate.”

“Bucky, pleeeaase,” you can’t keep the whine out of your voice. You don’t think you’ve ever been quite so turned on and the teasing was making you a writhing mess.

“Say please again and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“Please!” the word rushes out of you. His fingers and tongue driving you mad.

His tongue moves slowly, lapping back and forth over your clit while his finger still teases. It’s maddeningly delicious but not enough at the same time. He holds your hips hostage, not allowing you to move. You mewl with each motion of his tongue over you, your body on fire and screaming for just a little more until your mouth opens to plead, “More! Oh, god, I need more!”

Bucky lifts his head, a devilish smirk across his mouth, “Oh, precious, you didn’t say please. We’ll have to start all over again now.” His finger goes back to tracing the slow path over your cunt.

“What?” You gape at him as he plays with you.

“You didn’t say please, doll,” Bucky repeats, allowing his lips to brush over your thigh, far too far from where you wanted his lips.

You felt like crying. You felt like screaming. You felt like ripping off your bindings, flipping him over, and riding his face until you came all over it. Unfortunately, you knew you’d never overpower him and, if you were really honest with yourself, this little game he was playing was hot as fuck. You’d never been treated like this and he had made you a gushing mess.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. Please, please, I need more,” you whimper at him with doe eyes, hoping for a reprieve.

“You need more, precious?” Bucky’s finger grazes lightly over your clit.

“Oh, please!” Your hips try to buck against his hold but he merely chuckles as he holds you in place easily. His finger circles your clit slowly as his tongue takes a meandering path up your thigh.

“Please, baby, please!” You whine as he makes his way back to your apex and are rewarded when his tongue takes the place of his finger. His motions are still slow and deliberate while his finger brushes over your entrance again causing you to clench around nothing. Desperate for more, you start to say the one word you know will earn you some relief, “Plea- OOH!!!-” In the middle of your plea, his finger had entered you and he sucked on your clit suddenly. “Yes, fuck, please, please, please…,” the word became your only mantra as he fucked you with fingers and tongue. Your legs began to shake and then he curled his fingers into that perfect spot, making bright white flash before your eyes and a scream rend from your throat. You came hard, your muscles clenching. Your legs try to close but Bucky’s broad shoulders between them keep you open to him. He laps at you through the aftershocks.

“Fuck, I could stay here for days,” Bucky groaned. His fingers curled slowly as his tongue made gentle licks.

You gasped and moaned, words and thoughts hard to come by in the haze. “Bucky,” you finally manage to whisper his name as if it was the sweetest endearment.

“I know. I know, doll. Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” his mouth nuzzled you as he said the words. Flicks of his tongue came closer together, “I need another one from you, precious. Gotta hear you make those sweet sounds again.”

“Bucky, oh, fuck. Please, it’s so good,” you gasp the words out, nearly overstimulated and yet still desperate for his touch.

“You know how hard I am hearing you say that?” Bucky groans against your clit, vibrations coursing through you. His tongue begins moving faster, making swift circles.

“I… I- fuck. Please,” you stutter, unable to form sentences anymore. Bucky’s fingers curl more firmly into that spongy spot inside and your back tries to arch despite his arm holding you firmly in place. He was moving his tongue as if his sole purpose in life was to make you fly into a million pieces. You were a whimpering mess, unable to form words and so close to the edge again. When he growled against you again, your eyes flew open and you looked down your body at him. His cobalt eyes met yours and the intensity in his gaze was a hit straight to your core. Your muscles began to spasm as you watched him, so focused on your pleasure and aroused by your responses. Your scream is stifled by the overwhelming intensity of the orgasm that rips through you. Your hands flex around the bonds that hold them in place.

As Bucky kisses his way back up your body, you manage to come back to yourself… mostly. You wanted to touch him, to hold him against you, to run your hands over his body. You attempt to untwist your hands from the scrap of t-shirt but the deceptively loose looking knot doesn’t budge.

“Bucky, baby, please can you untie me?” You whisper.

Bucky had paused at your breasts to show them some attention. They were deserving of the most reverent of worship in his mind. His tongue traced your nipple before he spoke, “Why? I’ve got you tied up, pinned down, and perfectly on display for me.”

“I want to touch you, please,” you gasp as he takes your nipple into his mouth to gently suckle.

“Hmm,” he muses as he makes his way to your other breast, giving it the same loving attention. “If you’ll answer a question for me.”

“Anything,” you sigh, enjoying each motion of his mouth over you. You feel the rumble of his chuckle at your quick response.

“How long?” He asks.

You slide your leg to brush against his cock, still covered by his boxer briefs before saying cheekily, “I didn’t bring a measuring tape with me but I’d say more than adequate.”

Bucky lets out a small moan at the contact and then chuckles, “Not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, baby?”

“How long did I waste not having you in my bed?” Bucky asks as he brings his face level to yours.

“You mean, how long have I wanted you or are you asking how long I’ve liked you?”

“Both,” Bucky narrows his eyes but gives you a small smile.

“If I’m really honest, I’ve always wanted you. You’re kinda hot, ya know?” You smile and bite your lip.

“And the other?” Bucky asks, flexing his hips into you so that his hard cock nestles between your legs.

You gasp and arch into him, “About five minutes after meeting you.”

“Seriously, when?” Bucky scoffs gently.

“You were so sweet and a little self-conscious and I just adored you,” you nudged his nose with yours, encouraging his lips to find yours. He kissed you, long and lovingly, while he released your hands. You both seemed to settle into each other as your hands explored, finally free. The heat began to return, hips flexing into each other, craving the friction, but before things got too carried away, you cradled Bucky’s face in your hands and forced him to look at you. “How long?” You repeat his question.

“Always,” he whispers passionately before taking your mouth again.

It was all you needed. You reached for the band of his underwear, wanting nothing left to separate you. You managed to get the offending garment off of him and circle his cock with your hand. He takes a sharp intake of breath and then groans. Definitely more than adequate, you think to yourself.

“Doll,” Bucky presses his forehead to yours, “I need to be inside you.”

“Oh, precious, you didn’t say please,” you tease him, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick. Your core aches to be filled but you can’t resist the chance to tease him just a bit as he’d done to you earlier.

Bucky chuckles, “Knew I should have kept you tied up.”

You rub the head of his cock over your clit and whimper loudly in his ear, “I still haven’t heard it.” You pump him in your hand but still won’t let him slip into you despite his attempts to maneuver his hips.

“Fuuuuck, please!” Buchy growls, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

You waste no time lining him up with your entrance. He presses in a few agonizingly slow inches before grabbing your hands and hauling them above your head. He stares into you as he growls out, “I should pin you down,” he sinks in a little more, “and tease you mercilessly.” His hips slide slowly forward until he’s fully seated inside of you. “But I don’t think either of us would survive it right now.” He slides out a couple of inches before snapping his hips forward, taking your breath away. He sets a slow but driving pace, staring into your eyes as he fucks you. His hands slide down to hold your face and he kisses you fiercely, his thrusts coming a little faster as he does. You wrap your arms around his chest, pulling him to you, sliding one down to grab onto his ass. You encourage every movement, the drag of his cock tipping you closer to the precipice.

He buries his face in your neck, whispering praises and encouragement, “Shit, you’re squeezing me so tight, doll.”

“Bucky, fuck, I’m gonna-,” your breath catches as you fall over the edge. Your body sings as you come, trembling and moaning with each wave.

“You’re so fucking pretty, doll. So fucking pretty,” Bucky grits out as you clench around him. It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts for him to lose himself inside you. His hips flex with each aftershock that hits him.

Rolling to his side, Bucky pulls you against him. You nuzzle his chest as you both catch your breath. Despite the lethargy settling over both of you, Bucky's hands wander continuously over your skin and you bask in the attention.

“You'll stay, won't you?” Bucky whispers.

“I don't know,” you say sleepily, “Do you hog the covers?”

Bucky chuckles, “I'm pretty good at sharing.”

“Mmm, then I'll stay,” you yawn and a little giggle escapes you.

“What?” Bucky smiles at your mirth-filled eyes.

“That's the first time a cheesy pick up line ever worked on me,” you giggle again.

“I'll have to come up with some others. See if I get lucky again,” Bucky laughs as he kisses the top of your head.

“I'd say your chances are pretty good,” you smirk at him, “But maybe next time, I should be the one to pin you down.”

“Only if you say please, doll.”

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