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bunnycvnts · 2 months

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need you to write me some perv rafe 😌

pairing: perv!rafe x unaware!reader

summary: rafe has a small obsession with you and finds himself with the perfect opportunity to get closer to you.

warnings: pervy rafe, sexual themes, sorta??dark content, male masturbation, panty stealing (is this a warning LMFAO?)

rafe knew you. well. he knew of you. from glances in the hallway when you passed his room, headed towards sarah’s, small conversations when you joined family dinners, and the occasional interaction during parties when you wanted to score some coke on the low.

he knew you from the image he formed in his head. the one that told him your short passing glances were longing, filled with desire. that your hand brushing his at the dinner table was a sign to spread you open on the wooden table and fuck you. that you buying coke from him when there were many dealers in figure eight was because you needed an excuse to talk to him, not just because he was sarah’s older brother and would give you it a little cheaper than most.

you took up far more space in his brain than any of his little sisters friends should. more than any normal girl should. he’d never been so hell-bent on creating and imagining interactions, forcing them to happen, and putting himself in the right places at the right time if it meant he’d see you. countless nights he’d stay awake, hearing your giggles from across the hall while his hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking it to the sound of your voice that would slip between the cracks in the doorframe. rafe couldn’t be by the pool when you’d swim, his length creating an obvious print in the wet swim shorts that clung to his skin at the sight of your body in a small bikini, soaking wet with water dripping down your soft skin. he couldn’t look at you for too long at parties, his focus being solely on you rather than paying customers, even if you were halfway across the room in your own world.

it was safe to say he was obsessed, but it was okay, right? because you totally wanted him too. at least, that’s what he told himself.

for you, he’d always been sarah’s scary older brother that would sometimes stand a little too close, but offered you free coke at parties and would drive you home late at night, even though you only lived a block away and could definitely walk home.

rafe saw the perfect opportunity to get a little closer to you one afternoon after he’d been spending the day by the pool with you and sarah. you’d wrapped your towel around you, saying you were gonna go shower before dinner. sarah waved you off, determined to soak up every bit of sun she could. rafe watched you walk inside, water droplets leaking off of you with each step and the fat of your ass bouncing lightly, visible even through the towel.

he’d quickly sat up, throwing out an excuse of a phone call to his sister before following you inside. his steps were faster than yours, catching up to you quickly.

“hey, yo-you can use my shower if you want? that way, you don’t have to worry about wheezie or sarah trying to walk in.” he tried to sound casual, despite stumbling over his first words. you thought about it for a second before agreeing, having grown tired of trying to split sarah’s bathroom after pool days. rafe guided you upstairs, relishing in the fact that you were now standing in his room in only a small bikini and were about to be showering in his shower. you’d smell like him afterwards; his body wash would linger on your skin, and your sweet vanilla scent would linger in his bathroom. just the way he thought it should.

playing a nice host, he grabbed you a bath towel and turned the shower on for you before closing the door with a small smirk on his lips. you were quick in the shower, only washing your body and vaguely browsing through his products. when you hopped out, you realized you didn’t have your actual clothes. with a towel wrapped around your naked body and a frown on your face, you peeked through the cracked door and asked rafe to grab you your pink beach bag from sarah’s room as it held your clothes.

his eyes widened at the sight of you, but he nodded and left the room, pushing into sarah’s where he spotted your baby pink bag, your name clearly embroidered on the side. he checked over his shoulder quickly, ensuring he was alone, and opened the bag. he shuffled through it before coming across a little white thong that had a small bow on the front. rafe groaned as he shoved it in his pocket, grabbed the bag, and headed back to his room. he watched as you closed the bathroom door again and came out moments later in a sundress that showed off your tanlines from the bikini top, saying a small thank you and leaving the room entirely.

rafe took a moment to breathe, listening to your footsteps pad down the stairs. when he was sure you were gone, he rushed into the bathroom and stripped, your panties clenched in his fist. once he was under the warm shower water, your sweet scent filled the room, making him groan. his cock was throbbing, and his balls were aching for release. the fist clutching your white thong soon wrapped around his aching cock, now soaked and sudsy with his body wash. his grip was tight as he got himself off, your name spilling from his lips with every thrust of his hand. seeing something that once was worn by you wrapped around his length, your panties nonetheless, was surely enough to push him right to the edge. all he could think of was your sweet cunt dripping wetness into the soft cotton, him spreading your folds open and exploring every inch with his tongue, his cock lined with your tight entrance before pushing inside you and experiencing your warm wet cunt for the first time. what really sent him soaring over the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting from his thick cock and onto the shower wall, was your voice on the other side of the door, accompanied by a light knock. “rafe, are you sure you grabbed all the clothes that were in the bag? some things are missing.”

taglist: @sunkissedrafe @cxsmiclore @mousie101

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eternally-racing · 5 months

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need you now | lando norris (+ oscar)

genre: smut , maybe fluff if you squint

wc: <1k (short n sweet 😌)

pairing: lando norris x reader, with a surprise appearance from #81 himself (read and find out hehehe)

warnings: female masturbation, phone sex (ish), voyeurism, dirty talk

rating: R - minors DNI

summary: calling your boyfriend Lando to complain about being horny seems to turn into so much more.

- - - - - - - -

“Landooooooo” you’re whining to your phone camera. You’re throwing a tantrum like a child and you know it, but you just can’t seem to help yourself. It’s been weeks since your boyfriend promised to visit, and after Lando was supposed to come home last weekend but got called into the factory for some last minute meetings, you’re more than a little… frustrated, to say the least.

You know Lando can tell too. He’s cheeky enough to want to make you squirm, putting on that all knowing smile that you love so much. These conversations have become all too frequent between you two - you nestled into your sheets at home, Lando relaxing in his driver’s room during any free time he has on a race weekend. You’re even wearing one of Lando’s old shirts, and from the way that your nipples are poking through it it’s all too easy for him to tell how horny you are.

“Lan you don’t understand, it’s like I just need to be fucked. Not a want, a NEED. and you’re not here and it’s the worst.” There are of course much bigger problems in the world, but for a girl who knows the touch of Lando Norris and hasn’t felt it in weeks, this feels like torture.

Once you get going on the topic, you’ve set the train into motion and there’s no stopping it. Lando of course doesn’t stop you at all, what better feeling is there than your girl talking about how much she misses your dick?”

“My poor baby” Lando says sweetly with a tinge of sarcasm that makes you roll your eyes “your fingers just aren’t enough, are they?”

Lando knows exactly what you need to hear to egg you on and he says exactly that. “I bet you’re already wet just thinking about me coming back, aren’t you Y/N? You’re thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you when I finally get my hands on you again.”

You can feel your thong getting so wet and you’re almost in such a sex craze that you’re willing to book a plane ticket to get halfway across the world to be with your boyfriend. If Lando’s going to play games, you can play them too. You lean over towards the camera, giving him a nice shot of your cleavage. “What are you planning to do to me, Lan?”

And tell you he does. The filth Lando mentions to you is enough to make you feel like you could orgasm without even touching yourself, and small moans and whimpers seem to slip out of your mouth as you try to keep quiet about how much he’s affecting you. There’s promises made of orgasm after orgasm, and even the images in your head of Lando buried beyween your legs is enough to make you clench your thighs together in eagerness.

“Lan, I need you now” you mumble with glazed eyes, “look what you’ve done to me”. You’re about to show him the mess he’s made of your legs and take the oversized shirt off your body when Lando’s eyes go wide and he tells you to hold on for a second. And the words he says as he cuts off your actions make your jaw drop to the floor.

“Babe, you might wanna say hi to Oscar.”

You gasp audibly and almost drop your phone entirely. Lando turns the camera all too slightly to the left to show both him and Oscar now. The younger man is settled comfortably onto the couch next to your boyfriend, and the knowing look and slight red tinge to his cheeks tell you that he's been there for your entire conversation. Lando's eyes seem to flit between you and his teammate, trying to gauge if this was his best idea or worst idea ever.

You can barely look him in the eyes as you stumble through greeting Oscar. But it's not missed on Lando that you don't make any moves to cross your arms over your chest or cover yourself up in front of Oscar, and he keeps that information as something to talk to you about later.

“I should head off, mate, but if you ever need help with that problem… I’d be happy to lend a hand.” The Australian boy has the audacity to wink at you through the camera before he picks up his jacket to leave. The Oscar you see in front of you doesn’t resemble the shy, timid rookie you first met at the beginning of the year - you can’t imagine how much else has changed about him since then.

Who knows, maybe it would be worth it to take Oscar up on his offer.

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nymphomatique · 8 months

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Can I get a Nerd!Miguel with a soft dom? I desperately need this man to be babbling and sputtering as he gets praised

u absolutely can nonnie 😌

❤︎ a/n: please lmk if u guys want more gn/male reader fics! i will def try my best to be as correct as possible, all things considered, im afab so there’s margin for error. please don’t hesitate to send an ask or a message! enjoy <3

cw: subby miguel, soft dom!gn reader (but i wrote this with a male reader in mind :]), jerking miguel off, miguel has a praise kink, affectionate terms, sex but no specific genitalia mentioned. just generally sweet.

“a B plus?” you scoff, “what happened to that brain of yours, it magically disappear?” you spit at miguel, poking a finger to his forehead.

you had just received the results from your chemistry lab that miguel had done for you, and it wasn’t the usual grade margin you had expected. miguel had been sitting in your room on your desk chair, hands folded between his lap with a meek expression plastered on his face. “well, you gonna explain yourself?” you prod, getting slightly irritated at his silence and demeanour alike.

miguel swallows and looks up at you, and yoh see tears welling in his eyes. it takes you by surprise, and your eyes widen a bit at the emotional shift in the atmosphere. “i- i’m sorry, just been having a hard time, s’all,” miguel mumbles out, wiping the tears away before the fall. you chest feels a pang at the tone of his voice, an unfamiliar emotion brewing inside you.

“hey, um, we- you don’t have to do this— us, if it’s making you feel bad,” you begin, feeling uncomfortable a bit. miguel’s head shoots up and he immediately starts shaking it in disagreement. “no- i um- i.. like.. us. what we do, in a fucked up way,” miguel sputters out and you feel.. conflicted at his words.

“well, we’re taking it easy for today, alright? you’re um- not doin’ so well. so i’ll take care of you, yeah?” you reply, and you place your hands palm up at miguel, still in his chair. he looks up at you for a moment, hesitant, but he places his hands in yours, and you pull him up out for the chair and towards your bed, pushing him down softly. “strip for me?” you ask, and miguel complies, removing and placing his glasses at your bedside table next to your lamp before he pulls his white t-shirt up and over his head, revealing the peeking muscle, gorgeous tan and trail of thick black hair on his abdomen you’ve grown familiar with.

“you’re a pretty one, y’know that?” you tell him, watching him strip languidly in front of you. he doesn’t respond, but you see a blush creep up from miguel’s chest to his cheeks, as he makes way to remove his pants and underwear next. you follow shortly after him, both of you naked and full of emotion.

“you ready?” you ask softly, straddling miguel’s lap. your arms go to wrap around his neck, his on your hips, and he legs out a soft “yes,” and you begin to start. you softly push his tousled brown hair out of his face and kiss hit forehead, nose bridge, and the tip of his nose. you look at him for a moment, taking in his brown eyes before you place a gentle kiss on his lips. and another. and another. and one more until the soft pecks turn into a slow make out session.

you grind your hips up against miguel’s crotch, the friction causing him to break the kiss and breathe out a short moan. “feels good, huh?” you mumble with a small smile, bringing your lips back up to miguels. you continue to grind slowly, feeling miguel’s thick hands come up to your waist to slow you down. “g-gonna cum, wanna wait for you,” miguel gasps out, leaning his head back. you nod, and push him backwards on the bed. you watch from your place on miguel’s lap, observing him in all his good looks and disheveled demeanour. rose tinted cheeks, glasses sitting atop his strong arched nose, his pretty lip, his heaving supple chest, the small hickies you’ve left in a trail across his tan skin. “gorgeous,” you breathe aloud. miguel blushes, rubbing small circles into the sides of your hips with his hands, still sitting comfortably on the supple flesh.

you raise your hips up and reach under you, grabbing miguel’s stuff length, eliciting a sharp inhale from him through his teeth. still, you pay him no mind and align your entrance with him, and slowly begin to sink down, letting out an exhale of pleasure as your head slinks back. “s-so big,” you moan quietly.

“so tight,” miguel breathes out back to you in response. you bring your head back to down at him once he’s fully inside you, grabbing his hands from your hips to enter-twine with yours. when you’re ready, fully used to the intrusive in you, you begin to lift your hips and drop them back down, in a steady rhythm. “so good, fuck- makin’ me feel all hot inside,” you moan out, your hips coming down with more force. “gonna make me cum all over you.”

miguel goes red in the face, sputtering curses underneath his breath at your praises. your words of “too big, s’good baby, so fuckin’ good,” making his chest swell and groin tighten. “love how you do things for me, my sweet boy. you make me so happy, y’know that?”

your hips keep going up and down, building a strong but steady sound of slapping skin. your dorm fills up with heavy breaths, words of affirmation, and sweet moans of both you and miguel to coincide with the sounds of your love making.

love making.

your chest tightens a bit, and you keen over, your chest meeting with miguel’s chest. your hips falter, but you don’t rest for long when miguel plants his feet into the bed, wraps his arms around your back and begins to push his hips up into you at a rapid pace. you let out an ah!, feeling your orgasm building up in you rapidly. “fuck, keep fucking me like that, love when you’re rough with me, baby,” you pant out. you hear miguel whimper at your words, his thrusts not faltering when you feel the thin line of pleasure writhing you snap. you’re shaking in his bulging arms, mouth hanging open silently as miguel fucks you through climax.

holy fucking shit.

“ngh, gonna- gonna cum, baby,” miguel groans out, thrusting up into you and tightening his hold around you as well. your eyes roll back into your head as you feel yourself become full of miguel. at the end of miguel’s climax, you both lay there. you in his arms, and him under you. your ear at his chest, listening to his solid heartbeat. his nose, settled right above your head, breathing the scent of you in. the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, emotions tense in the room, but none either one of you can bare to address.

your eyes begin to get heavy, and you take the chance to say something you know you couldn’t bring yourself to say in any other moment, hoping that miguel is awake to hear it.

“thank you.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel atsv smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel atsv #sub miguel o'hara #you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3

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sh1-n0bu · 1 year

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♡︎ 𝙞 𝙙𝙤 𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡︎

anon asked: nobu could you do something with scara and feminization?? thank you!

characters: sub!scaramouche x nb!dom!reader

warnings: edging, overstimulation, praise, dacryphillia, feminization, just scara fucking himself stupid on your cock, as always cock can also mean strap on

notes: i gotchu nonnie, i gotchu😌 also scara is a bit of a yandere here ig??? this came out much more softer than i imagined. as a fellow scara-nation person, SCARA NATION COME GET YALL FOOD🗣

reposting bc tumblr has started a war against someone they can’t beat by deciding to suddenly flag my posts as mature

“aah! aanhg! m-mine. mine mine mine! only mine! n-no one else’s! mine! minemineminemine-gyaah~!”

bouncing on your lap with a cute purple, lace lingerie and stocking on was your sweet boyfriend. eralier today when you had your friend and co-worker drop by your house to drop off some of your work documents, scaramouche saw how awfully close you two seemed. your friend even gave you a hug! so he decide to surprise his loving partner with a gift.

after finishing the documents, you didn’t expect your cute boyfriend to be sitting on the bed with the latest lingerie you bought for him. pink nipples being seen through the bra and his already hard cock poking a bit out of the panties with the stocking hugging his thighs just enough to cause a little pudge, he looked absolutely delicious. throwing himself on you and guiding your bigger hands to roam around his body, scaramouche started grinding himself on your legs.

“aww love what’s this gift for?” kissing the old hickeys and marks on his neck, you gently squeezed his ass. even that little action seemed enough for scaramouche to moan in your ears.

“just-just wanted to make you happy” came in the breathy response of your short lover. he oddly seemed quite desperate today. wearing a cute set, throwing himself on you, selfishly grinding his ass over your thighs. but it’s not like you were against it. if your sweet boyfriend was feeling nice might as well enjoy it.

dragging you to the bed by the collar of your shirt and pushing you down on the bed, he seemed more like himself now. straddling your crotch and grinding himself, scara started mumbling and whining about some stuff about how you’re his and he belongs only to you. how you should only look at him, need no one else but him and something along the lines of it.

and that’s what led to this point. with your sweet kuni fucking himself stupid on your cock.

“[n-nameee]~ please? h-help me! ca-anngh aaGKK! pleasshee~ help me! tired. shoo tired nngk~” whining about how tired he is and how he can’t ride your dick anymore he looked down at your face with a pitiful look and tears running down his cheeks. but you only smiled at him and squeezed his hips, gently making him grind down on you. he sometimes hated how easily in control you are.

“shhh, it’s alright baby boy. you can do it. i know you can. do it like how you always do okay? up and down baby boy. up and down” toying with his cherry red tip with one hand while guiding his hips to meet yours, scaramouche found himself growing more and more desperate. soon enough he came with a loud yell of your name and fell on top of you like a deflated balloon.

“aww you did such a good job darling. surely you don’t mind if we go a few more rounds right?” flipping yourselves over and kissing his cheeks you asked him for his permission. he can get overstimulated a bit too easily at times. nodding and smiling dumbly up at you with hearts in his eyes with a dazed look, this was gonna be a long night.

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babyjakes · 5 months

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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompts | exhibitionism + piercing

pairing | soft!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader, feat. lloyd's friends: andy barber, ari levinson, ransom drysdale, steve rogers

warnings | ddlg dynamics (lloyd is a soft sweet daddy.) months of no touch/orgasms. clit hood piercing (+ me not knowing much about them.) fivesome with a sixth watching; exhibitionism. fingering (vaginal + anal.) nipple play. clit focus + rubbing. overstimulation. asking permission to come + she comes hard. so much praise and encouragement. probably some light mocking/humiliation. sooo many petnames. aftercare!! :) brief alcohol mention

word count | 1,580

an | sorry for the weird formatting? tumblr wouldn't allow me to use the bulleted list bc of too many characters i think- but ahhh omg the very last kinkmas piece 🥺 this event has been so much fun i hope you've all enjoyed the stuff i've written!! make sure to check out the event masterlist for anything you might've missed and thanks so much for reading along with me this month!! happy holidays and merry christmas to all of you sweet friends 😌💕

thinking about daddy!lloyd piercing your clit hood and then inviting all his friends over to show you off 🫠 piercings do take time to heal so maybe he's away on a trip for a few months after it happens, and when he returns home he has his buddies over to come play with you 😌 you were touch-free for that time period, so by the time the big night comes you're more than ready for some attention down there

lloyd dresses you up in a pretty new dress he got while out on his trip, short with lots of cleavage showing as always. and panties are skipped entirely; they'd just get in the way. he has you wait in your room as he brings his guests in, getting everyone settled in the fancy lounge with drinks and snacks. then he sends one of his servants to bring you down from where you're patiently waiting upstairs

andy, ari, ransom, and steve all coo and fawn adoringly as soon as you appear. you recognize every face in the group quite well; these are your daddy's closest and most trusted friends, the only men he would ever allow near you besides himself. this isn't the first time they've come over to play under lloyd's supervision. while these sessions can be overwhelming with so many players involved, things never get out of hand, as each of your daddy's friends treat you with just as much respect and care as he would, himself

"there's the pretty girl. we've missed you, sweetheart," ari's cooing from his seat on one of the armchairs

"that's a cute little dress, sunshine. s'it new?" ransom winks at you as he stands near your daddy's chair, finishing a glass of scotch

"come on over, doll. your daddy said you have something very special to show us," steve says gently, patting the space on the long leather couch between him and andy

the lawyer nods at the blonde man's words, adding, "come here, honey. got a nice spot saved just for you"

lloyd's on the other couch, across from steve and andy. "go on, princess. they've all been waiting so patiently to see," he encourages you

you find your way over, sitting down obediently between the two broad men. ari comes and sits on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. ransom makes his way behind the couch, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and easing you back a bit

"you wanna show us, angel?" ari asks gently as he leans in a bit, helping the men on either side of you bring your legs up to bend at the knee, your stocking-covered feet falling to either side of you. when you give a timid nod, the skirt of your dress is lifted up to expose your most intimate parts to the eager men surrounding you. a soft gasp is shared as they all lay eyes on your leaking cunt, swollen and sensitive from months of neglect

"aww, little one," steve's murmuring sympathetically at the sight of your arousal

"look at that ring- so pretty, sweet girl," andy marvels at the sight of the gold loop that now runs right through the fleshy hood covering your needy little nub

"your daddy told us it's a very special ring," ari hums steadily as he reaches out and gently spreads your messy folds apart, all of the men watching as your little hole twitches. "it goes right through the hood of your sweet little clit, doesn't it baby?"

"and that means," ransom chimes in from behind as he reaches down into your low-cut top, gently collecting your tits in his hands and squeezing at them, "that every time it moves, it rubs right up against your poor little button. isn't that right, pretty girl?"

you manage to give a shaky nod, a small whimper rising in your throat as the men all close in to finally start giving you the relief you so desperately need. there's no fumbling or hesitation, each of them settling in on their own task to contribute to the system of pleasure

steve brings two huge fingers to line up right at your opening, swirling the tips around briefly in your pool of slick before steadily pushing in. "okay sweetheart, let's get this pretty little pussy nice and filled up"

ransom continues up at your chest, his fingers rubbing and pinching at your pebbled nipples. "there you go, doll face. just relax," he's encouraging as your back arches lightly, making you sink a bit down further into the couch

andy drags some of your plentiful wetness down, carefully teasing the tip of a single digit over your puckered rosebud. he chuckles when you let out a startled whine, his voice low and soothing in tone as he croons, "easy, baby. i'll be gentle, i promise"

and ari seems maybe the most pleased of them all as he begins tapping and tugging gently at the small gold ring settled so perfectly against your now hardened clit. the feeling of the metal bumping and moving against your throbbing button is already more than enough to make you squirm, ari's patient gaze settled on you as he murmurs, "look at that, so responsive, just like always. does that feel good, baby doll? here, i wonder if we just-"

the others continue masturbating you in their various ways as the man before you pulls up on the ring, forcing the hood of your clit back to reveal your swollen little nub. "there it is," ari breathes happily as he steals some of your slick, bringing his thumb up to begin swiping repeatedly over your exposed bundle of nerves as his other hand keeps its hood retracted with the ring

"oh-... o-oh..." you're immediately stumbling over your words, your breaths shuddering as your clit burns brutally beneath ari's quickening pace

"think someone likes that," steve's chuckling beside you as he stretches you out on his fingers, curling them upward to stroke against your weak spot

andy's gathered more of your arousal to coat his pointer finger as he gently begins easing it up into your tight little ass, his eyes shining with pride as you weakly take the intrusion, "yeah? you like that, baby girl? that's it, honey. you're being so good for us"

"let's see if we can make this pretty little girl come for us," ari speaks to the others as your tummy quivers, your little legs shaking on either side of you as the stimulation becomes more and more overwhelming. but as soon as your knees begin trying to close, steve and andy are holding them open, giving you no choice but to lay there against the hot leather and let the men bring you to orgasm

"remember to ask permission, baby," ransom's reminding you as his head leans down next to your ear. the hands all over your body continue, but everyone glances over in lloyd's general direction as he sits just across the coffee table on the opposite couch, watching intently with a hand placed at his chin. one of his big rules for shared play time is that you always get his permission to come

"p-please daddy," your little voice comes out begging as both your holes are fucked forcefully now with large, slippery fingers, your nipples being rolled and rubbed as your clit is flicked in rapid succession. "please, c-can i-... can i-i come?"

lloyd scoots forward a bit, giving a simple nod as he lowers his hand from his face. "go ahead, princess. being so good for daddy's friends, you can come. you've earned it, baby"

as soon as you're allowed, you let go, your orgasm washing over you with impressive force. being the first climax you've had in months, it's quite the sight to be seen

all the praise coming from the men surrounding you blurs together as your holes contract around the fingers still pumping inside you: "oh- there it is" "good, very good, little one" "look at that, coming so hard for us" "keep going, baby. keep coming, that's it" "poor little girl, needed it so bad, huh?" "so cute when she comes, isn't she? such a precious girl"

when the waves of pleasure are finally dying down, their cheers turn to softer, soothing words as their hands still against you: "did so good for us, pretty girl. we're so proud of you" "that feel good, angel? seemed like a pretty big one" "you're okay, sweetheart. here, let's get your daddy over here" “no little one, don’t move. we’ll take care of the mess; you just hang tight”

everything feels like you’re experiencing it through a haze as lloyd comes over with the supplies needed for aftercare. you’re cleaned up and put in a comfy pair of fresh panties, your dress being repositioned on you to cover you up. someone wraps you in a blanket, and soon you’re safe and content in your daddy’s arms

the men all spend the rest of the night doting on you, helping keep you in a tiny headspace where you feel so safe and cared for. you get all the snuggles, tummy rubs, hair strokes, nose and cheek kisses, and gentle loving words you could ever want from each of your daddy’s wonderful friends

wow holy cow i got carried away with this 😮‍💨 all of them at once is so much but like,, , the i need that kind of so much 😔🙏

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sinsirellaxx · 2 months

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Man I love your toxic Slytherin boys writings (I reread them as my bedtime stories every night since I found your account 🤭) but knowing my personality and temper, there's no way I would let their toxicity slide 😩🫸

Pls pls pls pretty pls will you write where we put them in their place and have them grovel and trail after us like a lost puppy? 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Slytherin Boys – What they’ re like if you put them in their place

Warning: Toxic Slytherin boys 😌

A/N: Thank you so much! That is very sweet of you – hope you always have sweet dreams! 🤭 Honestly, same – I love a good temper! Hope you like what I have come up with! And sorry that some are a bit shorter than the rest! If you want a part two (for the groveling and trailing part) let me know! (I didn't include this here and I only noticed that it was part of the request now – so, sorry about that)

On another note: I've added Tom Riddle to the boys and will be doing so from now on! Comments are appreciated!

Mattheo …

… is shocked. He was used to always getting away with things, given the status he had attained through his family name – and his own actions. In his past relationships (or situationships) he had his girls practically kiss his feet and were ready to do everything for him and to him. But here you were, his first real relationship and apparently the boon and bane of his existence. You were getting ready for the party in your common room and had chosen a rather risky black skin-tight dress for that evening. Mattheo usually never cared about what his dates or girls wore – actually, he loved them to wear revealing clothes because he wanted to show off. But with you, he hated the idea of other people staring at you. He’d walked into your dorm room before the party – also something he had never done before – and immediately shook his head upon seeing your dress. “Absolutely not.”

You turned to look at him in confusion, closing the lip gloss you had just applied before putting it back into your make-up bag.

“You can’t wear that. The dress is way too short and – just no.” Mattheo glared as he looked you up and down. “I don’t want anyone to stare at you with like that. You’re mine –“

You scoffed loudly, fully erupting into a laugh as you stared at him with raised brows.

The frown on Mattheo’s face deepened as you walked up to him, placing your hand on his cheek as you slowly shook your head. It’s sweet you think you can tell me what to wear – because you can’t. You spoke smirking at him. And I’m not yours.So please get that silly idea out of your head. You can’t tell me what to do. You tapped his cheek slightly before walking towards your door, leaving Mattheo no time to react. The door closed behind you leaving him to brood in silence as he breathed through his nose, his hands clenched at his sides.

Well fuck.

Theodore …

… is kind of pissed but also kind of turned on. He can’t decide which feeling is stronger. You two have been fighting over you refusing to always tell him where you’re going and with whom. If he had asked nicely, you probably would have told him. But Theodore had been rude and controlling about it.

“You can’t just go wherever you want without telling me first. I need to know where you are and with whom you are.” The tall male demanded as he had you pressed against the door to your dorm room. He had waited for your arrival at the top of the stairs because he wanted to talk to you. You had ignored all his calls and messages, and he was livid with you – how dare you not answer him?

Upon seeing him you had rushed past him, with the hopes of closing the door to your room right in his face but he was quicker than you had expected.

You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time, obviously annoyed by his antics.

Fuck off. Get off my fucking dick, Nott.

Theo smirked, he loved when you got bratty. “No, but you can jump on mine.” He whispered against your ear as he opened the door to your room and pushed you inside.

Lorenzo …

… is speechless. Lorenzo Berkshire is known to have many girl friends falling for his prince-like appearance. He enjoys the attention and loves to feed his ego. It was something that you had to get used to when you agreed to be with him, but you eventually found your peace with it. You were sitting on Enzo’s bed with your phone in your hands, typing away and smiling at the screen.

Lorenzo noticed your smile and raised his brow as he watched your fingers move quickly. If not for the typing, he would have thought you were watching cute animal videos, but he was sure you were chatting with someone. He couldn’t help but ask, “Who are you texting?”

You didn’t answer at first, your fingers still moving until you finished your last message. As you clicked ‘send’ you lifted your head to look at your boyfriend. You told Enzo you were talking with your seat-neighbor about something funny that had happened in divination that day.

“Oh, is it Granger?” He added, growing slightly nervous because you left out the most important detail. Who was it, that made you smile like that at your screen? Lorenzo was known for being – well he tried to be – patient with you. He loved you after all. He had managed to be in almost every single class you had – except for divination. Ever since the beginning of the term he’d been thinking about it: Who were you sitting with? Were there many boys? Would you talk to any of them?

You finally answered him: Harry Potter. Enzo felt this weird warmth spread through his whole body as his heart started beating incredibly fast, his hands unconsciously balling up into fists to prevent them from trembling.

“You are friends with Potter?” He spat, putting special emphasis on the Chosen One’s name. Oh, how he hated that boy. You just nodded; your phone vibrated in your lap. Lorenzo ripped the phone out of your hand before you even managed to unlock the screen. “I don’t want you to talk to him. Block him.”

You just rolled your eyes at him and demanded him to give you your phone back.

“No.” He shook his head and stood up from the bed, already typing in your code he had managed to figure out from staring at your screen whenever you unlocked it.

“I don’t want you to have any male friends – am I not enough for you?” His voice raised a notch as he held you at arm’s length with his left hand while trying to open the messenger app with his right one. He clicked on the chat with ‘Harry’ and read through the messages, scoffing as he saw just how much you have been chatting with him. His face contorting in anger as he reread the messages from last night.

“You’re planning on going to Hogsmeade with him?!”

“Fuck, no.” He exclaimed loudly, rolling his eyes when you had finally managed to get your phone back before he could send whatever message he had typed in.

“You won’t go.” Lorenzo added with finality, glaring at you in hopes of intimidating you into submission.

He expected you to cry and get insecure, but he did not expect you to scoff at him, hands on your hips as you told him he couldn’t tell you what to do. You quickly grabbed your things and left the room not bothering to close the door after you. He could do that himself.

Lorenzo was too stunned to speak.

Draco …

… (almost) has a panic attack. Remember that scene in the bathroom in the sixth movie, where Harry finds him? Yeah – that kind of panic attack. You had just told him to leave you alone until he got his head out of his ass because he had threatened to break up with you if you didn’t break off your friendship with the golden trio. Draco would not have expected you to walk out on him – he usually always got what he wanted, and this turn of events completely threw him off. He gripped the front of his shirt as he gasped for air, the other hand combing through his hair as he paced through his room.

Rushing into the bathroom he splashed his face with cold water as nothing else seemed to help. When he finally lifted his head to look at his reflection in the mirror he had to accept the truth: He apparently needed you more than you needed him.

He would have to win you back. Even if he had to beg.

Blaise …

… would think you were joking when you told him you didn’t need him to protect you.

You were fuming as you pushed Blaise’s hands off, telling him that what he had done was completely wrong and uncalled for.

“Why are you mad? I just protected you, doll. I saw the way he looked at you.” Blaise tried to reason with you. He couldn’t just sit still when another boy tried getting closer to you. Over his dead body. But you didn’t seem to agree with him as you shook your head in disbelief. “I didn’t push him away for no reason, did I?” He sighed, growing impatient with you as told him that there had been no reason to hurt the other boy. “Babe, I did it for you, you know?” And that was the last straw for you as you yelled at him to leave you alone. You are suffocating me, Blaise. This is over – we are over!

Blaise knew then that he had overstepped your boundaries. Again. He should have run after you and begged for your forgiveness right away. But he also knew that you probably would need some time to cool down. You’d be back in his arms soon, he was sure of it.

Tom Riddle ...

... would let you have your moment. Tom had been bored nowadays and he was actually intrigued to know how far you'd go and what you'd do exactly.

Tom is known to be an intimidating and bossy persona – he is the born leader one could say. Seeing as he is the oldest son of the Dark Lord that came as no surprise to anyone. Everyone had high expectations of him so he projected all that pressure onto you: You had to be perfect. Not what you deemed as perfect but what he thought was perfection. At first you let him control you, blinded by love and the attraction you felt for him. But after months of dating, and his demands getting increasingly more suffocating you have had enough.

Your complaints and worries, however, were met by indifference. Tom did not care. "What do you expect me to say?" He spoke lowly as he looked up at you from where he was sat on his bed.

You just blinked at him dumbfoundedly not sure what outcome you had expected.

"You knew what you were getting into, when I asked you to be my girlfriend." Tom tilted his head as he leaned back on his arms. "Now, if you have anything else to add to this ... very productive conversation, please, go ahead. If not, get on your knees."

There it was again. The hurt and the humiliation. He only wanted one thing and nothing else. But this time, you wouldn't let yourself be manipulated. This time, you told him to go fuck himself before storming out of his room.

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intrepidacious · 1 year

Text

almost believing

summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.

a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!

masterlist | read on ao3

Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.

After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.

Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.

You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.

"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.

But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.

Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.

Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.

"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.

"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.

For like a week.

"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.

"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."

"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.

"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.

"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.

"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.

Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …

Clearly, you were wrong.

Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.

He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.

The mission call feels like your last chance.

A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.

That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.

"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.

"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"

Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.

You purse your lips and join the staring.

Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."

"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"

"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.

"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.

Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.

"I’ll see you later."

You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.

For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.

Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.

Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.

Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".

It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.

That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.

You need to change your lockscreen.

***

Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.

Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.

"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."

He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."

"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"

Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."

Of course he’s going to be fine.

You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."

"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?

For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.

"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"

There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.

"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.

"I’ve got something for you."

You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.

Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.

"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.

"Try it on, then."

It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.

Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.

"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."

He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.

This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.

"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.

"Mhm."

Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.

You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.

"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.

"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.

You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.

"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."

"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."

You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.

Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.

***

"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."

"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."

"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.

You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.

This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.

Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.

"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.

You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.

Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."

The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.

"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."

You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.

When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.

Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.

When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?

But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.

So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?

***

You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.

It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.

But damn if he’s not good at it.

It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.

Hearts are often stupid like that.

A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.

You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"

"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.

Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.

It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.

Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.

That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.

"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.

"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."

He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."

You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.

It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.

"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.

"Maybe a little," you say.

The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.

It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.

He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."

You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.

"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"

"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."

"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"

Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.

"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"

"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."

"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."

You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"

You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.

For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.

"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"

"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.

"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."

You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.

He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.

Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.

"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."

There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.

"Dance with me?"

You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.

You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.

"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."

"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.

Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.

You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.

"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.

"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."

With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."

The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.

You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.

Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.

"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.

You’d almost forgotten about the mission.

"Val is here," you say quietly.

His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"

"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."

"Why didn’t you say something?"

"I … There wasn’t time."

"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."

You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.

The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.

Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.

You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.

He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."

"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.

"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."

"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.

"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."

The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.

You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.

You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.

Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.

He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.

You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.

"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.

Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.

You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.

In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.

"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."

Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.

"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."

You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."

***

Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.

Your lips are still tingling with it.

Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.

"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.

Your defenses shoot up again.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.

"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."

"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.

"Doesn’t make it right."

"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."

"Y/N—"

"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."

"You know why I’m leaving."

"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."

He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."

"Don’t remember what?!"

"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."

The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.

You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.

"You should talk to him. Be honest."

"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."

"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"

"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"

"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."

"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.

"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."

"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."

"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"

"Love?"

"I mean, obviously?!"

"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.

"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"

"I thought you hated me."

You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"

"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."

It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"

Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"

"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.

His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.

"I don’t understand," you whisper.

"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."

This time, you’re the one to lean in.

Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.

You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.

The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."

You break up with a snort.

"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.

You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."

"Of what?"

"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."

Bucky groans and shuts you up again.

(A few years later, you get the ring back.)

happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

#sweet as sugar challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #almost believing

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