#file this under: another weird kink that i have thanks

[daykinking]

Brenna Lancaster - Introduction

[ Here's a written introduction to some of my intox OCs! A literal introduction. Was going to continue to write Brenna being all fucked up in church, but I just want to post already and I think 3.5k is enough for this sort of thing! Feel free to use my world or my characters as inspiration. ]

Brenna had started her day vibrating with excitement at 7am. It was her birthday, and she could finally drink.

Having grown up with somewhat of a helicopter mother, Brenna never had the inclination that she would be allowed a big bash for her and all her friends to get wasted. She would just have to wait until she moved out for that kind of fun.

Today was also Sunday. Usually she would still be asleep for another hour, but today, for her birthday, her parents were going to take her to the Waffle Factory for breakfast.

She had spent hours the night before planning out her outfit. Something subtly sexy that her parents wouldn't say was inappropriate for church. While she knew a plain black spaghetti strap would catch stink-eye from her mother, throwing a short jean jacket over the top would make it imperceptible, and then she could just take it off at church.

By the time her parents had awoken at 7:45 she was already done with her makeup and hair, and was sat on the living room sofa bouncing her leg rapidly.

"Good morniiiing!" she sang. "Ready to go?"

Her tired mother, Scheirre, put on her usual fake plastic smile, eyes closed so you couldn't read them, and said in an ultra-cheery, nearly infantilizing voice, "Ooh boy, someone's excited for breakfast, huh!"

"Excited for something," muttered her father Dylan as he miss-buttoned his gray flannel. "Can you wait 20 minutes honey?"

"Okay!" Brenna said, head heart and stomach twisting in anticipation. As the time moved by at a snail's pace, she opened Tumblr to distract herself, engaging with all the happy birthday asks and notifications. Some of her kink friends asked if she was drinking already. "Not yet, ugh, my parents won't hurry the fuck up. I want mimosas!"

"Are you going to go to church wasted?"

"I'm tryingggggguhhhhh!!"

Just the thought of sipping from a champagne glass in public made Brenna blush and squirm. Sure it'll be a little awkward with her parents there, but maybe they'll have a cute waiter.

---

The Waffle Factory was located on the west end of the mall, with an outdoor patio featuring cool-looking gas-powered fire pits. There was a bar outside as well.

Once indoors, there were 2 other groups ahead of them at the host stand. Brenna took this opportunity to excuse herself outside to vape.

The second she was back outside she made a beeline for the bar, whipping out her ID and slapping it down with a grin. The bartender, dark roots growing out under his bleach-yellow hair, turned his piercing blue eyes to the girl. He was easily six feet tall and very lanky, with only a smattering of tattoos on his arms, all weird lines and symbols. His white shirt hung loosely to his fatless form, hands of a skeleton wiping down the bartop with a rag. "How can I help you, miss?"

"I'd like a mimosa please!"

"Of course," he said, swooping up her ID. "Well happy birthday!"

"Thank you!" she cheesed, accepting the drink from him and taking a gleeful sip. She spied on the front door, taking a few more drinks. "Um...would you mind making this a little stronger?"

Without missing a beat, he topped off her glass with champagne. "Is this all going on your table's tab?"

Reflexively going to say "Yes," she stopped herself, realizing the talking-to she'd be in for if her parents knew how much she was about to spend on alcohol. "No, you can keep this card on file for me."

"I see." He accepted the card and opened a tab as she downed the rest of the mimosa. "Thank you!" Running up to the front door, she peeked in, seeing that her parents were still in line behind the other family.

"Actually can you pour me one more really quick?"

He smirked. "Sure thing, doll."

---

When she went back in to wait with her parents, Brenna felt wide-awake and alert. She knew the alcohol wasn't working quite yet, but it was still making her feel high just to think about how she was going to feel soon. Suddenly she tasted the champagne on her breath and felt a little self-conscious. Maybe it would kick in quicker since she hadn't eaten yet.

"Brenna," Scheirre said in a tone one would call to a dog, and snapped casually as she and Dylan followed the host to their booth. Brenna realized she'd been spacing out, glancing around as she followed as if she could see who could tell she had just drank.

No sooner had the host said "I'll be right back with your waters" than their server came up to the table.

"Salutations, my fine folks, my name is Axel and I will be your maitre-dee this morning. Can I get you started with some drinks?"

"Aren't you the bartender that was outside?" Dylan asked.

"Affirmative," said Axel with a slight bow at the waist.

Dylan rolled his eyes hard, trying not to outwardly cringe at this dude. "The wife and I are going to just stick with the waters." He gave a look to Brenna. "And it's our daughter's birthday today,"

"Happy birthday." "Thank you!"

"--so she's going to have her very first drink. Brenna, tell the nice man what you'd like."

She smiled sheepishly to the waiter, knowing they shared a secret. "I'd like a mimosa, please!"

Scheirre made a faux-scandalized face, reaching over to give her embarrassed daughter an awkward one-armed hug.

---

By the time Brenna had finished her glass, their food was already out. A mountain of waffles stood before her, covered in berries, syrup, and whipped cream. "Holy shit."

"Brenna!"

"Oops. Sorry." Her cheeks flushed red. Those words had kind of just come out on their own.

"Thank you very much," said Dylan to the server as he accepted his egg whites and arugula with chia seeds or whatever. Sheirre had ordered a plate of meat with a side of meat and some eggs, including the yolks from Dylan's whites.

"My deepest pleasure," said Axel with another bow. "Is there anything else you need? More drinks?"

"Just water again," Scheirre said without looking up.

"I'd like a coffee."

"And for the guest of honor?" he said, turning to Brenna. She felt her eyes vibrate. About to order another mimosa, she quickly calculated that her parents would get on her case.

"Orange juice please..."

"Of course." He flipped his little notepad shut, gave a bow once more, and left. Dylan muttered something about "smarmy weirdo."

The waffles were fantastic, but Brenna already regretted not ordering more alcohol. She didn't know when she was gonna get away with this again. She didn't drive; she didn't have any friends who drove. The nearest liquor store to the house was a 30 minute walk.

The restaurant around them was quite loud. Between bites as Brenna looked around, she was pretty excited to notice the slight drag in her vision. The lights left brief little tails like tadpoles, and all the colors in the room seemed brighter. This was Brenna's third time getting tipsy. But the first time outside of her bedroom.

As she took in the scenery she started smiling kind of stupidly, slightly agape, braces peeking out. Muted canned lights lit the place and the checkerboard walls were plastered with very talented artists' renditions of famous album covers reimagined with breakfast foods. Including actual non-parody album covers, like Flat As A Pancake, Whipped Cream and Other Delights, Viva Les Crepes, none of which Brenna recognized.

As she took a bite of her side of bacon Brenna noticed her skin felt a little numb. The drunken dullness of sense of touch had set in. She tried to keep her smile to herself as she crunched numbly on the bacon, taking only the best flavors from it.

Before long Axel had come back with the orange juice. She made sure to meet his eyes when she thanked him, hoping she looked doe-eyed enough. From his perspective she certainly did; her pupils were, as one might say, the size of the moon.

As she took a sip from the off-clear dappled plastic restaurant cup, she noticed...carbonation. She didn't feel it until it hit the tender flesh of her inner lip, and she was confused, so she took another sip.

Unable to differentiate between the taste of champagne already clinging to her tongue, or champagne in the cup, Brenna reasoned that it must just be really acidic juice, because it would have been odd and also a miracle if Axel had made her a mimosa in a plastic cup.

She washed down the second-to-last waffle with the rest of the drink, hitting her chest and releasing a loud belch.

"Brenna Nicole Lancaster!" Schierre shrieked.

"I'm sorry--"

"That wasn't ladylike, dear," said Dylan, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry!" She couldn't help but giggle, suppressing a second smaller burp and covering her mouth this time. "I didn't know it would be that loud."

"Honey."

"What?" she asked her mom, carefully trying to cut a bite out of her last waffle.

"Honey." It was a command. She wasn't obeying. "Look at me," she said sternly.

"Mm?" She locked eyes with her, or tried to. Fuck. Fuck. She had to keep refocusing. Oh fuck.

Scheirre's eyes narrowed. "Are you drunk?"

"I--w--I don't know, it's my first drink," she said, eyes darting around the pop art in the room.

"Did you get drunk before we left?"

"Wh--how would I do that? No!"

"Babe," Dylan said calmly to his wife, "maybe she's just a lightweight."

Scheirre raised her pale eyebrows over her green eyes, folding her freckled arms across each other as a curly red lock tumbled over her shoulder. "Our daughter's a lightweight, huh?"

"Okay. Calm down."

Brenna busied herself with the waffle, wanting so badly to talk to the horny people in her phone. But her mom was already being kind of controlling; for sure she'd snatch that phone right out of her hands again and try to look through it.

Right then, her savior came along. "Can I refill that for you?"

"Yes please!" she said, searching for his eyes again and beaming her gratefulness into his brain. He smiled back at her, then turned to Dylan. "Can I refill your coffee, sir?"

"Actually, I hate to say this...this basically tastes like water to me."

"Oh, so sorry, sir." He nodded, taking a step backward and catching Brenna's eye, holding it. "Should I make that stronger for you?"

"What? Of c--yes. Please," Dylan responded curtly.

Brenna gave him a secret thumbs up under the table. He winked at her quickly, bowed slightly, and left.

While waiting for her extra-extra mimosa, Brenna kicked her feet, pushing around the eggs left over in the syrup on her plate and taking a few bites here and there.

She felt the urge to burp again, but suppressed it as best she could. It worked...but then the bubbling in her chest turned into something else. She opened her mouth to ask for a sip of her mom's water, and instantly hiccupped, very hard. "Ough..."

Schierre stared hard at her, judging. Dylan silently passed the water cup over to her without looking.

"Thank yo--HIC--u...Ow."

Oh god, this was embarrassing. She was kind of regretting getting so drunk in front of her parents. Now she was gonna have to be in the car with them...

Thankfully her next cup of juice was here. She took maybe too eager of a drink. Braced for the carbonation, Brenna was suddenly hit with a sharp burn, instantly hacking a cough as she slapped the drink down to keep from spilling it. She pulled back from the table and spluttered, hoping that cute waiter wasn't looking. (He was.) Was that fucking...vodka?! (It was.)

"I thing I drang that too fas'" she said, alcohol stinging her sinuses. Upon taking a deep breath she hiccupped again, face bright red as ever, as she wiped drool from her chin.

She couldn't look her parents in the eyes, but she did need to finish her plate, and her screwdriver.

By the end of the meal, waiting on their check, Brenna found herself spacing out a lot, trying to feign conversation with her parents. Were she a little more sober, it might have been obvious to her that they were onto her.

Brenna waited to the car to announce that she really, really badly had to pee, and she couldn't hold it til church. She did this because she knew her parents wouldn't be willing to go back inside with her. Her dad handed her a 10. "Why don't you get yourself some coffee while you're in there."

"Thanks!" she said, not looking into it beyond another birthday gift. "Be right back."

Hopping back out of the car, Brenna stumbled a little, catching herself before colliding with the car parked next to them. She basically skipped inside the mall, feeling like she was swimming through the air as the colors of the parking lot swirled around her.

Brenna had been waiting to come to this mall for a long time. Her Tiktok feed was full of videos of people having the time of their lives, getting drunk and high as heaven. So despite never having been here before, she knew the Barbucks would be just to the left outside of Boredsom.

It never even crossed Brenna's mind but Dylan had wanted her to get coffee to sober up. It didn't cross Dylan's mind but they also serve alcohol at this particular coffee shop.

Time dilated as she stood in line, anxious that she was getting more sober by the second (she wasn't). Senses dulled, she could vaguely hear a group of very chatty women coming right toward her, but nothing registered until she was backed into by a 6-foot goddess of a woman. She knocked her right into the mall employee in line ahead of her. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" both Brenna and the woman who ran into her said at the same time. The employee Brenna had bumped into just giggled, twiddling one of her long, stick-straight pigtails.

"S'no worries," she said, smiling with her eyes closed.

"Hi, Claire," said the barista, "Grande mudslide?"

"Venti please?" she said with a sway.

The two chatted a while, or rather, Claire rambled to the barista while the order was rung in.

"I'm Stella," said the woman behind Brenna. "This is Cat," she said, revealing a much shorter and smaller woman with soft lavender-colored hair and big doe eyes.

"Hi! Sorry, we're super obnoxious," Cat apologized.

"It's okay. I'm Brenna."

"Brenna! I love that!" Cat cooed. She was wrapped tightly around Stella's waist. Brenna's eyeline came right to Stella's chest, which was impossible not to notice. She was wrapped tightly in a very short, strapless, ruched tube dress of gold tissue lame, the sort that looks trashy on almost any person in the entire world. She was pulling it off. Rather, filling it out. It made the gladiator flats work. She had a lot of artificially-blonde hair, stiff and wavy, pulled up in two half-pigtails on either side, an emulation of a lion's mane. The red gloss on her plumped lips was mesmerizing.

"I haven't seen you around," she said. "Have you been here before?"

"No, actually, it's...it's my birthday," Brenna replied, barely able to contain her excitement.

"OH MY GOD NO WAY!" The two women burst into celebration, a mixture of shouting and squealing. "Star!" Stella said to the girl behind the counter, "Whatever Brenna orders is on me."

"Oh my gosh, that's so sweet of you, you don't have to do that."

Stella waved a dismissive hand and nodded to Star, who then looked to Brenna.

"Oh, uh...I'm sorry. I wasn't looking at the menu..."

"You like sweet stuff, don't you," Cat said, clocking her instantly. "Get her a Bailey's slushy."

"Ooh, great choice."

Brenna thanked them all and stepped to the side to wait for her order. Clearly Stella and Cat knew this mall very well, and the workers here. Stella's voice was very loud, and also very slurred, so it was hard to make out what she was saying but you could tell she was having a good time. The two came over to wait with her, standing at the little tall table.

"So you're celebrating your birthday here?" Stella asked, a bright blush coming through under the freckling on her face. The table creaked every once in a while as she swayed.

"Uh, well, not really. My parents brought me here for breakfast and now we're going to church..."

"To church!"

"Ew," said Cat, reflexively. "Sorry. No offense."

"We gotta get you fuckin' loaded," said Stella. "Are your parents just waiting in the car?"

"Yeah..."

"You like weed?"

Brenna's eyes widened in shock. She had smoked a couple of bowls before, at a party. "Yeah!" She wasn't prepared for Stella to whip out a dab pen.

It was simple and pink, a small battery that could fit almost anywhere. Stella unscrewed the cartridge that was on it and replaced it with a fresh one. "Hit this til they call your order."

"Wh--okay!" Brenna was almost uncomfortably turned on. She did as she was told and hit the pen, maybe a little too hard right off the bat, and immediately went into a coughing fit. Her head swirled with the alcohol and the new substance, and it took her a while to notice Stella's laughter.

"You come back to life yet?"

"Mm-mmhmm..."  Brenna wiped some drool from her chin. Her head began to feel lighter, but her throat was fucked.

"Okay good, hit it again."

Looking up to meet Stella's eyes, Brenna shivered under her challenging gaze. Maintaining eye contact she hit the pen again obediently. She tried to suppress the coughing, and she didn't hit it as hard.

"Good girl, you're learning!"

Time dilated even more now. Everything around Brenna felt disconnected, like she and her new friends were on one plane, the Barbucks was on another, and her parents were on another planet.

"My parents! How long have I been in here?"

Cat giggled, gently stroking Brenna's back. "It's okay, sweetie, you're just high. Your coffee hasn't even come yet."

"Oh...right." Brenna took a deep breath of oxygen, allowing the sounds of the crowd to blend the world back together. The lights were so pretty. All the potted plants...wow. How pervasive is nature, that even inside the concrete jungle--

"Take another hit, cutie," Stella murmured across the table. Eyes fixated on the pothos crawling up a potted palm tree, Brenna obeyed.

Everything was engulfed in a soft cloud. Brenna's brain included. When her name was finally called and made its way to her through the fog, she realized she had been leaning in a very awkward position against the potted flowers behind her.

Though she was looking directly ahead of her at the coffee bar (okay, maybe a little slanted), the second Brenna took a step she began careening to the left. Her feet crossed themselves over each other and she slapped against the floor. "Oof!"

"Oh shit."

She was scooped up, body ragdolling along as Stella and Cat helped her walk to the counter. They took their hands off her as she grabbed for the drink, missing at first.

Brenna felt like a bobblehead as she turned carefully. The other two flanked her for a bit, and she wordlessly nodded toward the exit door. They walked her down the short hallway to where it was more quiet.

"You can walk okay, right?" said Stella. "I kind of feel bad for pressuring you like that."

"Nn-no, itw- was. Yes." Brenna used her left hand to help her right hand form a thumbs up, to show she was okay with this. The weed had rendered her unable to form sentences. "Thank." Suddenly perplexed, she pantomimed texting.

"Oh!"

Cat swiped Brenna's phone from her back pocket, held Brenna's finger to the sensor, and started putting in her and Stella's numbers.

Brenna tried to hand the pen back to Stella, confused why it kept moving. And why it was so heavy.

"No, keep it," she said. "Happy birthday!" She held up her cold brew sangria, and Cat joined the cheers with her dalgona martini. Brenna knocked her paper coffee cup against theirs, delighted to remember there was booze inside of it. The three of them took a hefty drink, and suddenly both Stella and Cat also had weed pens. They cheersed with the pens, and Brenna eagerly took way too big of a hit.

After another fit of coughing, having to collapse against the wall for a bit, and getting rubbed on by some beautiful ladies, Brenna staggered toward the exit door, confident her parents wouldn't suspect a thing. She stepped out into the parking lot and stared at the skyline.

"Brenna. Brenna."

Oh, that's right. They were parked right out front. Hastily she pocketed the pen.

Taking a deep breath, Brenna willed herself to walk a straight line to the car, accidentally stumbling into it at the last minute. Her parents ignored this.

As she sat in the back seat she sipped on her spiked coffee, not a thought in her head. The christian radio station was playing, and for once in her life, Brenna felt close to god.

#intox fantasy #oc #brenna #intox kink #alcohol intox #intoxication kink #alcohol #drunk #crossfaded #intox #forced intox

[ex0rin]

Frank Grillo + Hand Wraps | Fightworld (2018)

#i'm so fine and normal about hand wraps btw #frank grillo #fightworld (2018) #cara gifs #this is a late frank grillo birthday set #that i made for me #frank grillo tag #i've never wanted to be punched in the face so badly tbh #pls just throw me down some stairs #file this under: another weird kink that i have thanks #gif two makes me feel some kinda way

[internet-sadass]

Can't Keep My Mind (Or Hands) Off You (Fox Mulder x pregnant!female reader)

Blurb: Mulder can't keep his mind, or hands, off you now he's got you pregnant, which leads to a little lunch break fun in his car.

Warnings: smut, car sex, pregnant sex?, breeding kink

A/N: If anything about pregnancy in here is not realistic, oops, I have not been pregnant and I tried my best to research the symptoms etc. Also, the reader works at with the FBI but doesn't work with Mulder on the X Files. She does come and do admin work for him (like photocopying and bringing him coffee) because that's what a good partner does 😘

"Okay, so I managed to photocopy these photographs for you. They're not the best quality, but I'd say they're passable. I mean, you can still make out the shape of a figure in the tree line. I'm guessing that's what you need them for, right? Identifying weird humanoid figures." 

Mulder nearly dropped the folder he was holding. 

"You're not wearing a bra." He stated, completely matter-of-factly, despite how he stared at you.

It was true: you had forgone a bra that morning and opted for a white vest under your blouse instead. Your breasts were constantly aching now you were well and truly into your first trimester. Wearing a bra meant you would wince all day and be unable to focus on anything except how sore your chest was and how much you couldn't wait to tear your bra off as soon as you got into your car at the end of the day. But today, you weren't in the mood to suffer hours of feeling like someone was squashing your already tender breasts constantly, so no-bra it was.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully at Mulder as you set the thick pile of photocopies on his desk.

"You're observant this morning. Did you listen to anything I just said? Or do you need me to repeat that all while you," You tilted his chin up so his eyes met yours rather than admiring the twin peaks of your pert nipples against your blouse. "Keep your eyes up here." 

Mulder placed his hands on your waist, running them down over your hips. Since you'd shown him the four identical positive tests and the doctor had confirmed that you were indeed pregnant, he'd found it incredibly hard to keep his hands away from you. Everything he'd loved about you and your body was amplified tenfold now. And right this instant, your significantly fuller breasts, the healthy flush across your cheeks, and your pretty eyes staring up at him were destroying his normally undying devotion to his job. 

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you, don't worry. The photocopies. Thank you, sweetheart." You were pulled closer to him, very much breaking the 'no touching' rule you had agreed on to prevent the pair of you from losing your jobs over inappropriate workplace behaviour. "More important is, why aren't you wearing a bra? You're not, you know,” He lowered his voice, “lactating?" 

You laughed, shaking your head.

"Nope, not yet. Going to be another few months before that happens. They're just sore, that's all, and wearing a bra is getting pretty intolerable. So, no bra." 

As you explained, Mulder’s hands wandered over the changing contours of your body, settling, as they always did, on the subtle hump of your pregnant belly. Even if he couldn't feel anything, since the baby was no bigger than a plum at this stage, he felt an instinctual need to place his hands protectively over the warmth of your lower stomach. Sometimes, he swore he felt something stirring within you, but he knew it was just his very wishful thinking. 

Snapping back into the present moment, Mulder recalled that you said that your chest was hurting.

"Can I make them hurt less? Please." He whispered, hands drifting up to cup just below your breasts. He leaned close to you, kissing your cheek so softly that his lips barely met your skin. 

You shivered at his touch, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on your sensitive flesh, to have his mouth on your skin, kissing over your sensitive areolas. Another kiss was placed on your cheek, making you groan. As much as you, and presumably Mulder, wanted to take the day off and spend the whole time rolling around in bed, you knew that would have to remain a fantasy. 

"Later. I promise. As soon as we get home, I'm all yours." You placed your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt. "We can last until the end of the day, can't we?"

Mulder wasn't sure he could last that long. How could he if you were walking about looking so damn irresistible and beautiful and full? 

Clearing his throat, he finally released your body from his protective grasp. 

"We can, yes." He lifted the photocopies you'd made. "Especially if I have to go take a look at this sasquatch. Keep my mind occupied." 

‘And off your gorgeous body’ , He added mentally. 

***

"Oh, please be gentle- ah, careful!- please be gentle with me, Fox." You whimpered, arching your back against Mulder's torso as he pulled your vest up over your breasts, catching on your nipples, making them sting. His hands settled on your breasts, cupping them, weighing them in his hands. They certainly felt bigger to him, filling up more of his hands than before. 

"I'll be gentle, don't worry. I'll be so gentle with you, doll." He whispered back to you, brushing a thumb over one of your nipples, making you keen and squirm against him. After many hours of being unable to think of anything but you, he was glad to finally get his hands on your body and touch it as much as he (and you, of course) wanted. As much as it was your body that was making him harder and harder every passing second, the way you begged him to be gentle with you and your heightened reactions to his touch only added fuel to the fires of his arousal. 

The pair of you hadn't made it to the end of the day. When Mulder got a minute, he found you and nearly dragged you out to his car. He'd driven to a slightly more private place than the bureau car park, and both of you moved to the backseat, kissing each other like a pair of teens who'd finally got the house to themselves and were free from the prying eyes of their parents. Now you sat on Mulder’s lap as he touched you, drawing all sorts of pretty sounds and whispers from you by just lightly touching your tender and aching chest. 

Every caress, every careful touch of your tender breasts was a sweet mix of painful and pleasurable. You were in ecstasy, arching your back, grinding against Mulder's thighs, begging him to ‘stop’ and ‘keep going’ simultaneously. The sensation of him sucking and kissing at your neck only made you more desperate and aroused. Though you winced whenever your flesh was squeezed, your eyes almost rolled back into your head when he rolled his thumbs over your nipples, drawing circles on them just as he did with your clit every time you two got intimate. Your climax felt embarrassingly close, considering he’d done nothing more but grope your breasts and kiss your neck. The fact you could feel his erection, so hard it was almost painful for you to be sitting on, only added to how turned on you were. 

"P-please...I want more of you. Touch me more." You panted out, seizing one of Mulder’s hands and moving down under your hiked-up pencil skirt. He pushed your panties aside and slid the tips of his fingers along your leaking slit. Thick, creamy arousal gathered on his fingers and leaked onto his trousers, staining them with a prominent damp patch. 

"God, you're so wet." Mulder mused as he slid two fingers into you. There was no resistance whatsoever, as your insides welcomed the intrusion of his fingers, twitching around them. You groaned and bucked against his fingers as they pressed up into the most sensitive part of your insides. 

"A-all because of you." You said, struggling to speak as you couldn't focus on much else except how good it felt to have your pussy spread open by Mulder’s fingers. 

He chuckled, scissoring inside you before pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace. 

"That's not true; it's not all my doing. It's because of your hormones, too." 

As he toyed with your pussy and rolled your clit under his thumb, slick leaked out, soaking his hand and the leg of his trousers. You writhed about on his lap, grinding against his stiff length. It was Mulder’s turn to moan as your movements threatened to make more pre-cum leak from his slit and wet his boxers. He wanted to be inside you so badly, especially as he could feel how wet and pliable your pussy was right now. A whine left your lips as he slid his fingers out of you.

“You’re so needy, aren't you? It’s cute.” He mumbled as he guided you to lie across the backseat. Placing one knee on either side of your hips, he straddled you, leaning down to kiss you as he undid his belt.

You smirked against his kisses.

“Speak for yourself. You can’t even pause to take your pants off. That desperate to be inside me.” You whispered back to him. 

Mulder didn’t fight back with words. Inside, he moved his mouth from your lips to your nipples, running his tongue over one of them, swirling around the hard nub. You winced and groaned, your body unable to decide whether it liked the sting of your oversensitive buds being touched in such a way. Seeing your reaction, he moved to the other nipple, bringing a hand up to gently squeeze your breast and circle his thumb over your now wet nipple. You writhed about under him, switching between arching your back, pressing your chest up to him, and shrinking away, trying to escape but finding no way to roll away from him without falling off the seat. 

Feeling as though he had ‘tortured’ you enough and got his fill of toying with your gorgeous chest that had been distracting that whole day, Mulder lifted your hips, lining your entrance up with his weeping tip. He entered you, earning a sharp gasp of pleasure from you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him to stay hilted deep inside you. 

This was what Mulder had been thinking about all morning. Even with a particularly promising case to chase up, all he could think about was you and being inside your intoxicating tight, wet heat. As much as he wanted to draw out the process of rutting into your velvety insides and feeling you clamp around him as you said his name over and over, he simply couldn’t hold back. He pounded into you, filling the car with the slap of skin on skin and the sickenly wet sounds of his cock spearing open your soaking lips. You looked so perfect below him; your pupils blown out, your skin sheening with a light layer of sweat, your neat office makeup beginning to run as tears squeezed from your eyes, your full breasts bouncing with every thrust of his hips. To top off the view of you, looking more beautiful than ever, the way you were saying his name every time he hit your deepest and most sensitive spot was something he knew he’d replay in his head whenever he couldn't be with you. You swung from breathing out his name in pants to calling it out to barely whispering it as your orgasm broke and made you fall apart under him. He already knew he loved you, but at that moment, as you said his name in a barely audible tone and looked up at him with doe-eyes full of adoration, it felt like that love grew tenfold.

“O-oh, god, fuck, I love you.” 

Words fell out of Mulder’s mouth, very much beyond his control, as he felt the heat of his orgasm spread from his lower belly and along his length. He felt himself fill you with spurt after spurt of his hot seed, his cock pulsing as it emptied its load into you. Reluctantly, he pulled out of you, smearing his tip over your swollen folds, unwilling to let any of his cum go to waste. 

You sat up, a wave of dizziness washing over you. Clearly, so much excitement and activity had put your delicate body under some strain, and it struggled to cope. You looked down at yourself, noticing the gradually growing puddle of cum leaking out of your entrance. The more you sat up, the more that leaked out. You groaned at the sight; it almost made you want to go another round. 

“God, you always cum so much. No wonder I got pregnant the second time we tried. Your car seats are ruined now.” You said, laughing as you forced yourself to sit fully upright and start making yourself look presentable again.

Mulder shook his head at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“They’re leather, so that won’t stain or mark them. And aren't you glad we didn’t have to keep on trying to get you pregnant?” He said, nudging you.

You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance at his remark.

“I don’t think either of us would have minded it taking more than just two times without a condom. Not that we need condoms or an excuse to fuck like rabbits anymore.” You joked, helping re-do Mulder’s tie for him, kissing the tip of his nose.

***

Scully was waiting for Mulder when he rushed back into his office, still looking much more dishevelled than a man coming back from a completely average and normal lunch break should look. 

"Mulder, where were you?" She asked, looking him up and down, folding her arms like a parent would do to a misbehaving child.

"Um...Lunch." Mulder fumbled with his answer, knowing as soon as it left his mouth that there was no way in hell that Scully would believe that he’d just been away getting lunch.

"For over an hour? It took you that long to get lunch?" She pressed, closing the door to his office as he searched about his desk for the photocopies of the sasquatch you’d made him earlier. 

There was a long and uncomfortable pause as Mulder stared at the photocopies in his hand, trying to think of a way to answer Scully’s question. At this point, he knew it was basically pointless to carry on giving her excuses; she had worked out what he’d been up to the minute she saw him. Finally, he thought of a (pathetic) reason for why he’d disappeared for nearly two hours. 

"There was a queue. A long one." 

#fox mulder #fox mulder x female reader #fox mulder x you #fox mulder x reader #mulder x reader smut #agent mulder #the x files #fox mulder x reader smut #fox mulder imagine #the x files fanfic #fox mulder smut #mulder smut #mulder fanfic #fox mulder fanfic #mulder x you #mulder x reader

[jefferythejelly]

debated even doing this bc i feel like i am Barely a fic writer but i got tagged by 2 people (thank u @negativepeanuthoarder and @rutadales) so i am going to be brave

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs

couple of brief notes before i give u the list:

i have far too many wips (bc i never finish anything adsfjbdsa) so for simplicity's sake and to cut out ones that are kinda nothingburger this technically isnt All the files in my wip folder

almost all of these are nsfw in some way and several of them deal with omegaverse/mpreg/various other weird kinks. sorry if that is not ur cup of tea when it comes to fanfiction but you have been warned👍

anyways list under the readmore bc theres 17 of them so it got a little long lmao

sap unplanned pregnancy dnn to dnkn

karl gets abducted by aliens yay

subnap (that title might be a little misleading im ngl it kind of got away from me. also this is one of the oldest in there i started it may 2022 adsfjbadskjf)

funz pregnancy slash kidfic brainrot (this one is less of a fic in progress and more of a series of brainrot bullet points. but i like it a lot its very self indulgent)

dogboy foolish

funz body worship nonsense

ahaha yeahhhhh (this one is one of the few where the title is not descriptive at all. wildcard)

funz empty

yep its funz time

punznap pog

omega punz

funz new years kiss

karlnap maid outfit

wrow (another wildcard)

cdrunz eggs

karlnap chapstick

mr beast hide and seek but im in heat (not clickbait)

tagging @tinynap and anyone else reading this who wants to talk about their wips (bc i am at a loss for people to tag who have not already been tagged by a different mutual asdfbsk)

#if this seems like a lot of wips i also have a huge planning doc of ideas/brainrots that i just havent written out #idek how many are in there its A Lot tho #i have so many ideas and no motivation to write them fully they just live in my mind and my harddrive #oh god wait this isnt even counting all the abandoned d.smp wips that are on my phone Jesus #i might still talk about some of those one day but a lot of them are kinda meh or were based off of outdated lore/headcanons so idk #wip game #not sfw #<- not really but its mentioned and probably most of the asks i answer abt this (if i get any) are gonna be marked mature so akfdsjbask #also reading thru these and realizing theres a lot of f.unz lmao #listen there was a period of time (slightly past now) where i was obsessed with them but was finding barely any good fics with the tropes i #wanted. and i had to take matters into my own hands

[pastelpendant]

Waking up from a nap to other people trancing themselves is nice. I do wish I had the energy to speak with You more regularly, though I know this is something else You’d reassure me is fine. (I know it is, I just see a lot that’s cute here with the others and interaction is fun when the brain allows ~_~)

(This feels a bit like irony and stepping over a line. If so, please say so and I’ll refrain from saying stuff like this in the future. Don’t wanna be part of the problem) I would like it though if people stopped making my favorite ‘tist uncomfortable. You’ve got perfectly respectable boundaries same as anyone else, and it annoys me that they’re trampled over with any degree of frequency. It can’t be that hard to keep one’s mouth shut and not make others uncomfortable.

On another note, I’d noticed Your deity kink tag before, but didn’t think much of it until now since I’m decidedly not religious in my daily life. For You, though, I think I could make an exception ;D

Not just a Master, but a Deity to fall completely under for. Ruling the Garden and my mind with the same level of gentle, inescapable power. Why leave when I’m so comfortable? I could go at any time, but I also could lie in a sleepy puddle at Your feet awaiting orders. It’s nice to be owned and powerless. Nice to realize I don’t have to think for myself, just float in worshipful bliss as my Deity exerts Their control~

Perfect Pen’s perfect control always seeping into my head. The repetition mantra sticks the best since it rhymes and I’ve lopped it for hours, sometimes rocking to stim brings it up, but other things are fun too.

I’ve edged to Your files before. Tried to set in ‘rub my mind away for fae’ along the lines of the other mantras and though it’s enjoyable to stay like that for a while, I can’t hold back long enough to do much. Might do that later if I work myself up though, Your files have gotten me needy before…

This is getting long again 😅 I would apologize for the giant block of text, but You didn’t seem to mind my last ramble, so maybe this time is the same? Hope You’ve been doing well!

-El

Interaction is definitely fun! But I agree with your assessment that I'd say it's okay that you can't interact often, and that's because the few times we do interact are always a treat! I look forward to when it becomes more drawn out and frequent, but only when the headspace allows <3

Thank you for the kind words. I too wish that people would stop trampling over Me and My boundaries just because I'm a soft person when not explicitly Dominating someone. Admittedly, I never had a specific rule against receiving photos, only giving; part of it could be on Me for not saying I don't want photos w/o consent, but at the same time I feel like that should be common knowledge! Alas, We live in a society of people w/ monkey brain that just want to activate their neurons by being weird in non-fun ways.

I believe you've referred to Me as Deity before, so I find it hard to believe this is the first time you've thought about the Deity side of things~ I take on being an Arch Fae as my primary way of expressing it, as that gives me more power and Dominion over ordinary Fae creatures as well. Plus, only Arch Fae can rule over their own Domains, which My Garden certainly classifies as ;)

Ah yes, repetition. The main reason mantras work the way they do. And We Fae certainly love to rhyme, so it's fun to use rhymes to really get in someone's head. Encouraging a (consensually) endless loop of My words is a thrill, because I like imagining the droning, far away tone their voice would take repeating it out loud.

I've noticed a sudden uptick in thralls that edge to My files! I'm quite flattered by it; it's never something I go out of My way to ask for, since My brain often just...Doesn't think about sexual things below the belt, but those offers and tributes are quite lovely when people ask beforehand if it's okay. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, and if you do decide to edge later, I hope you'll know that Master melts your mind away, so you can rock and sway and just obey~

(P.S the "rock and sway" part actually comes from how a thrall was humping her pillow while repeating that mantra and edging, but she too always seeks release, so never feel obligated to stay on the edge a long time!)

Never apologize for long asks! I prefer this than having to make multiple short replies, and I'm always glad to hear from you, dearest El <3 Thank you for taking time to share all of these lovely thoughts with Me, I treasure them immensely

#asks #anonymous #pen answers #el #long post

[cardiophileanonymous]

Late Night Errands Chapter 1

Mulder x Reader

Summary: The reader is a paralegal preparing to help defend her client on trial in a week. The stress has finally convinced her to go out and get a stethoscope to help calm her down. Little does she know a certain agent was watching her out while she was out late at night, and it makes her a prime suspect in his eyes.

Y/n= your name

Y/f/n Y/l/n= your first and last name

B/f/n= your best friend’s name

...

Y/n slammed the door shut then started to punch the sides of the steering wheel. What in the world was going through her mind? Of course this store wouldn’t have any stethoscopes! Even if it was a pharmacy. People don’t have stuff like that lying around in their homes. Not normal people, anyway. What was she gonna say to the employee when they inevitably asked why she was looking for one? “Oh, I don’t need one, I just want it for my weird-ass heartbeat kink!” Yeah, that was one conversation she didn’t want to have.

She silently stared at the moon for a few brief moments. Why couldn’t she have a normal kink like everyone else? Like feet, maybe. It still would’ve been weird, but dammit, at least she’d be able to find porn of it. The best she could find easily was cardiophilia fanfiction, and even then, it was scarce.

She snuck glances around the parking lot. Nobody in sight. So hopefully, nobody would notice the blush on her face when she brought up an hour long “asmr heartbeat” video for the sake of calming herself down.

She smiled in bliss. When a heartbeat was in the background, it was like everything melted away. She groaned in frustration when she heard a text from her friend, B/f/n.

Don’t forget we’re having lunch tomorrow! I’m taking your mind off that trial if it’s the last thing I do!

She was double pissed now that the stress of last week filled her head. She was a paralegal, and one of her clients was set to go on trial less than a week from now. It was the oddest case she’d ever seen. The case of Bill Brown.

The man had killed exactly one-hundred people in the span of less than half a year. And the details he gave were chilling. They were vivid and graphic. So, he must’ve been a sociopath or something, right? Well he was super remorseful. And upon turning himself in, that’s right, turning himself in, he sobbed for three days straight. What’s strangest was he claimed he didn’t know they happened until the memories came back to him that night.

She wouldn’t have believed it either, if he didn’t point to bodies that hadn’t been found yet. He helped officers uncover at least a quarter of his victims.

It gave everyone working in his defense a headache. Argue innocence and a false confession? He flat out admitted details the public didn’t know. Did they argue insanity? He seemed pretty fucking sane during interviews and psych evaluations. Self defense? Not in a million years.

What got at her was the genuine feeling he was innocent, and that someone, or something, could be out there. The idea of being out there in the city alone with it out and about gave her the creeps.

“Whatever,” she whispered, turning the audio up so she could return to her blissful ignorant state. Where everything melted away. Where she was actually pretty happy with a smile on her face. With that, she began to drive away.

…

All she could think about when she finished getting dressed was the trial. The trial, the trial, the trial. This was gonna be the biggest train wreck she would ever see in her career, and she had only become a paralegal a mere three years ago. She didn’t envy the defense attorneys she was working under.

Her thoughts were interrupted by three knocks at the door. Strange, she wasn’t expecting anyone today, except for B/f/n, and she was always late for everything.

She looked through the peephole to see two people in fancy clothing outside. She opened the door just a crack.

“H-hello…?”

“Y/f/n Y/l/n,” the man asked. Y/n nodded hesitantly. The man speaking held up the badge and the woman behind him did the same. “Agents Mulder and Skully, FBI. We have a few questions about your client. The one who’s set to go on trial next week.”

She turned her head to the side.

“I’m sorry, I think you might be mistaken. I-I’m not an attorney, I’m just a paralegal.”

“Oh, we’re not mistaken. That’s exactly why we wanted to talk to you.”

She looked inside her apartment real quick, then back at them.

“Okay… come on in. Just come in quickly so the cat doesn’t get out. She has a habit of running outside.”

She was internally grateful that her friend talked her into going out for lunch. She would’ve felt embarrassed if she had had to talk to these well dressed professionals in her pajamas. Skully knelt down, petting Y/n’s cat that had just walked up to the two.

“Um… would you like tea or anything? I’m about to make some for myself now.”

Skully lifted up one of her hands while she let the small animal nuzzle into her other one.

“That won’t be necessary. We plan to be out as soon as possible.”

“O-okay… um... I’m guessing you’re here to ask about Bill Brown?”

Mulder nodded.

“That’s correct.”

“I… don’t really understand. He’s set to go on trial less than a week from now. Why is the FBI getting involved? I thought this was settled, more or less.”

“We think he may be the wrong guy. We’re investigating a series of murders strikingly similar to the ones he supposedly committed a year and a half ago. We need to look at some of the previous evidence and cross examine it with the crimes happening now.”

She still seemed unconvinced.

“Why haven’t you gone to my firm? Or better yet, the police? I-I’m sure they have everything on file.”

Mulder shook his head.

“The lawyers won’t speak to us. And the police department doesn’t want to reopen the investigation when they’re so close to closing it. They don’t want to cause panic.”

She nodded. That actually wasn’t that hard a story to believe, considering the people she worked with on a daily basis. She just looked around the room.

“Okay… you might want to rethink my offer about the tea, then. And have a seat. Because this’ll take a long time.”

...

She presented them with a long list of documents. Some images, most legal papers. She pulled out the two things that were most of interest to her, a map of where the killings took place as well as a few images of supposed murder weapons.

“I’m not really sure what you’re looking for, so here's everything, I guess.”

Skully started flipping through the legal papers, reading passages of the man’s confession. Y/n’s cat slipped under Skully’s arms and laid on her lap as she continued to read. Mulder took a keen eye to the map.

“When did these murders take place?”

“Um, September 14th through February 10th, sir.”

“And he moved here the day these murders started, correct?”

“C-c-correct. You… didn’t already know this?”

“Oh I did. I just wanted to make sure you did. Encyclopedic knowledge of a case is the sign of a good paralegal, don’t you think?”

“Oh!” She let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Thanks…”

“Tell me, Y/n. What do you think happened?”

“Well, the evidence clearly shows he’s guilty, so… we are going to be arguing that he did these crimes due to mania and insanity.”

“No, Y/n. What do you really think?”

She looked down, and started to get finicky. She sat up straight.

“I think he’s innocent… and I have a theory about what happened. But… I don’t think anyone would believe me.”

Skully raised an eyebrow.

“Why haven’t you brought it up with any of the defense attorneys?”

She looked away, then back at the both of them.

“You won’t… tell anyone, right? I don’t wanna lose my job because everyone thinks I’m crazy.”

Mulder nodded expectantly.

“Of course not. Now, what did you find?”

She flipped through the papers.

“While they were at his house… they found a lot of these DVDs.” She was somewhat mumbling under her breath. When she pulled out the image she presented it to Mulder. “I’ve looked them up and they’re all from a lesser known hypnotist.”

Mulder read the bottom of the DVD covers.

“Hannah Martin?”

“...yes. I’ve tried to find those specific DVDs myself, on her website or Amazon or whatnot, but, uh, I can’t find them.”

“Why do you find these significant?”

“Um… Skully, was it? May I please have the written interview?”

She handed it to her. Now that her hands were free, Skully began to pet the cat sitting on her legs, who purred in appreciation. She cleared her throat and began to read.

“Bill said ‘I moved to start a new life, I tried to smile every day, I helped my neighbors, I listened to hypnosis videos every night before bed to make me a better person. I did my best to turn my life around… but I guess I was a monster this whole time. Last night, my memories came back to me in my dreams. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…’”

Mulder nodded.

“So you think that the hypnosis videos he watched before bed may have mind controlled or influenced him into committing these crimes overnight?”

Her face began to turn red and a wave of feeling stupid hit her.

“I’m sorry! I know that sounds insane!”

“No, not to me.” She was in awe. He was actually entertaining her insane supernatural idea? “How far have you looked into this Hanna Martin?”

“You have to pay at least five-hundred dollars for her to create a hundred and fifty custom sessions to send to you personally through DVDs. Um, the first alleged murder was one hundred and forty-nine days before the last alleged murder. That day he confessed would be day one hundred and fifty.”

Mulder seemed incredibly interested. He gazed down at the image he was holding.

“Thank you for bringing this information to my attention. Can you please scan this and make a copy for me? I want to see if I can track down these DVDs.”

“O-okay!”

She was a little excited that her idea was being entertained. And, aside from that, this agent was very cute! So he was cute and as conspiracy crazy as she was?! She smiled like a dope when she was no longer being watched, her back to the two. She began making the copy.

“Another question for you, Y/n.”

She gulped. Something about this man saying her name made her stomach drop.

“Y-yeah…?”

“Do you go out at night often?”

The feeling of her stomach dropping was now from fear.

“What do you mean?”

“I saw your car parked outside the local drugstore late last night, any reason for it?”

She swallowed, hard. She was going for ulterior motives, but she was relieved she had something to fall back on.

“I was getting my medication. Um, I can show you if you want proof?”

“There’s no need to. But midnight is fairly late to be running errands like that, don’t you think?”

She breathed in.

“I couldn’t sleep. So I thought I might as well do something productive.”

He nodded. She turned to look at him, but she couldn’t quite read his face. Was he insinuating what she thought he was? Or was this all in her head? If he thought she was involved, he was probably crazy. She just laid out all this evidence to prove her client innocent, and possibly even helped point to the real killer, yet he thought she might be the guilty one?

“Did you happen to purchase anything from this hypnotist?”

“No, I don’t have that kind of money… and besides, i-if I am right, I don’t know if I would want to get anything from her.”

“Mhm.”

Her dopey smile and blush was gone by the time she handed the copied image to Mulder.

“I’m not sure about the legality of this…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it.”

She was a bit angry when they left. B/f/n was a bit confused walking in.

“What happened?”

“Ugh! The stupid FBI is involved in the case now. They wanted to see some stuff.”

She tilted her head to the side and her nose crinkled in disbelief.

“The FBI?”

“I don’t know either! Just… help me pick up these papers. Actually, don’t! I need to make sure they’re all in order before court in a few days!”

She nodded as Y/n began to put everything as they were supposed to be.

“...that guy was kind of cute.”

She sighed.

“I thought that, too. But actually, he’s a dick.”

#cardiophilia #cardiophile #hearts #Mulder #Mulder x reader #x files

[untaemedqueen]

The Bird Cage

Mafia!Jimin x Reader

Chapter 20.

Warnings: Pregnant Sex, Riding, Daddy Kink, Edging, Orgasm Denial As Punishment, Spanking, Brat!Reader, Dom!Jimin, Squirting, Cum Eating, Mentions of Physical Abuse

Blood, Guns, Knives, Smoking (Cigarettes)

Tag-List: @imaforeigner​, @q1st1na​, @gensneverland​, @autumnnflowers​, @toddsgirl27​, @yaniposts22​, @babyboytae1​, @dearlydreadful​​, @vivpurple7​, @kthfeed​​, @probably-trying-too-hard​, @si-deus-me-hanyu-senshu​​, @bts-chub​​, @ayyyocee​​, @taeslittletiger​​, @yeonkiminfr​​, @xcharlottemikaelsonx​​ , @topthis808​​,  @brilee64​, @mini-coop25​, @afangirllikeme-blog​, @kpoppingthempills​

You stare at the stage incredulously as you sit in the middle of Hyunah and Jimin. 

"You're moaning too loudly, no one wants to hear you sound as if you're being run over by a truck!" Hyunah calls to the naked girl on the stage as she fingers herself. You snort putting your hand to your mouth as you sit in the empty theater the Lees own. Jimin sniggers before sipping his coffee. 

"It's about being seductive, not overly excited. Put some clothes on." You look over at her as she rolls her eyes at you. 

You've become close over the last month. She was like a weird, mother slash business partner slash sex monger. You have breakfast with her most of the time, since she's always in Yoongi's room spending the night. You've never met Lee Oh, but with how Hyunah talks about him, he's really just more of a business partner she decided to marry for his name and to make legacies with. 

"You're beginning to show." Hyunah points out before lighting a cigarette.

"Must you do that? You know how I feel about that shit around my wife." Jimin mumbles bawling his hand into a fist. 

"Yes, Jimin. I must, I have to sit here for hours on end watching girls defile themselves for a job. In my mother's time, pregnant women even used to drink and smoke." 

"Yes, well 1910 is a long time ago, Hyunah." You smirk leaning back comfortably in your chair as you look at the list. 

"Next!" You call trying to disburse the ridiculous conversation. The next girl comes on stage. She's pretty, has a pleasant face and Jimin sniffles before looking over at you. 

"Do I have to be here to watch this?" He mumbles into the open air.

"Getting hard?" Hyunah asks as the girl strips down. 

"No, I have a wife, thank you. I'm uncomfortable." You lean over and put your hand between his thighs feeling his soft cock. You look at him impressed and he rolls his eyes grabbing your wrist. 

"You should know by now that I want you and only you." 

"Yes, Park we all know. Every mafia or maid knows you want only Y/N until your little life ends." Hyunah ashes her cigarette as you smile and kiss his cheek. 

"Speaking of maids, how's it going with that maid in your little playroom?" Hyunah asks quietly as the girl spreads her legs on the couch. 

"She's not talking." Jimin says pulling your hand away from his crotch before intertwining your fingers. 

"Because, I'm not allowed to go near it." You say matter-of-factly. 

Hyunah tuts her tongue, "Pregnant women need to have fun too, Jimin." You smile before nodding to the girl. 

"Go on, then." She begins to rub at herself and you put your hand under your cheek as if you were bored. 

"What's up with the Kim Shin business?" Jimin asks, trying to ignore the girl on the stage. 

"That is for another meeting." Hyunah says looking over at him. He hums before rolling his eyes. The girl enters four fingers into herself and you widen your eyes. 

"Can you fist yourself?" You ask loudly, making Hyunah smirk. 

"Babe." Jimin scoffs at you. The girl blinks before looking down at you in the crowd of seats. 

"Yes." She says confused. 

"Do it." You say folding your arms as Jimin clasps your hand tighter. 

"If you want to get hard, then just fucking get hard." You whisper in his ear. He sighs loudly before sipping his coffee. 

"You must be fucking crazy." He mumbles to himself before grabbing Hyunah's cigarette and burning it out. 

"Stop smoking around my child." She rolls her eyes before pulling out her gun from her thigh. 

"Look what you did." You mumble putting your forehead to the table. 

"Light me another one, and behave yourself little boy." The girl on stage stops and you shoo her away before sighing. She cocks the gun at him and he reaches for her pack of cigarettes. 

"Yeah, yeah." He mutters, grabbing her lighter. 

"Why don't we all just behave like adults?" You ask with a smile clapping your hands. 

"Because that's not fun." Hyunah replies before uncocking her gun and sitting back down as Jimin inhales before blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of you. 

"Fisting girl! You can come back out!" Hyunah calls as Jimin hands Hyunah her cigarette. 

"Never pull something out of my hands again, Park." He hums in agreement before clearing his throat. What a great group of company you have today!

You sit in the office chair, legs crossed as your girls file into the room. 

"Good afternoon Mrs. Park." You hum in agreement. 

"I have a meeting in twenty minutes. Let's make this fast." You tell the nineteen girls before clapping. 

"Yoongs." You say before opening your hand at the desk. Yoongi places the briefcase on the desk before opening it. Bands of Won, all exactly the same amount, sitting prettily for the girls. 

"Go on." You say before rubbing at your growing stomach. They smile at you before grabbing their cut and stashing it wherever they see fit. 

"Any trouble from your men?" 

"I have." You hear Sera say and you lean forward raising an eyebrow. Their safety was your number one priority. The men you send them to meet are usually on par with the rules so today is a bit of a shocker. 

"What happened, Sera?" You ask putting your hands on the desk. Your engagement ring and wedding band gleaming in the office light. She bites her bottom lip before welling up with tears. Yoongi clears his throat before lowering his head. 

"I would just...prefer to show you." She says with a small voice and you nod to her. She takes off her leather jacket before zippering open her Chanel dress. The dress rippling to the ground as she turns around. You take in a deep breath as you stand up. 

"Who did this?" You ask stepping around the desk, her lower back and ass purple as she begins to sob. 

"Okay. Okay." You whisper comfortingly as you rub her upper back. 

"I begged him to stop but...but he said he liked that and...and just kept lashing me." You hug her tightly as she cries onto your shoulder. 

"Just give me a name." You say as Yoongi looks up. 

"Kwon Hyungwon." Yoongi goes wide eyed at her body before clearing his throat. You step back before patting at her cheeks to keep her makeup fresh. 

"He's never going to bother you again. Hmm?" You say before caressing her cheek with your thumbs. She nods with a sniffle before picking up her dress. 

"I want him in Jeongguk's warehouse by 8 o'clock tonight." Yoongi nods as you walk back to the desk and unlock the bottom drawer before pulling out another band of cash. 

"Sera." You call to her as Jina zippers up the back of her dress kindly. You hold out the cash before sighing. 

"Nothing like this should ever! Ever! Happen to you. You have men that go out with you for a reason. If something like this happens and you're too afraid to tell them then you call me. Hmm?" The girls nod at you quickly as Sera grabs the cash gratefully. 

"You call me no matter what time it is. You're all beautiful and all powerful, you hear me? Never let ANYONE disrespect you because they think they can because they are paying. Money may be king. But I'm the Queen." Yoongi smirks as he stands up straighter. 

"Get going." You tell them as Sera stares at you. You smile at her before tilting your head. 

"What is it?" 

"You're just a really great boss and we appreciate everything you do for us." You hum in delight before standing. 

"I'll always do right by you girls. Know that." You say as she nods before grabbing her leather jacket and walking out. Yoongi looks over at you impressed. 

"I like that line. Money is king but I'm the queen." You smirk at him as he pulls out his phone. 

"I want his dick chopped off." You tell him pointing your finger. 

"Tell that to the Prince of Castration when you see him in the meeting." He says with a laugh as he puts the phone to his ear. You tap your fingers on the desk before shaking your head. Men were far to brazen with women they pay money for. 

"Yeah, it's me. Go through Sera's last guests. She had a Kwon Hyungwon. He's a warehouse body now." 

"I want all those girls to have a knife." You tell Yoongi before leaving the office. 

You step into the meeting room before smiling at Jimin who looks up from his phone. 

"Kitten." He says happily as he holds his arms out for a hug. He discards his phone into the metal box before patting his lap. 

"I missed you." 

"I was gone for like an hour." You say with a laugh as you throw your phone into the box. 

"An hour is too long to be away from my baby girl." You giggle as he pulls your arm, pulling you into his lap. He takes in a deep breath smelling your perfume before putting his face into your neck. 

"How are the girls?" You hum pulling back.

"Something we'll discuss in here." Jimin nods before pushing his now black hair back. 

He said something about his baby seeing him with his real hair color will make the baby bond more with him. You have no opinion on that matter, seeing as how you're sure his kid will love him anyway. You rub your ass on him and Jimin licks his lips. 

"You're so horny these days, this baby is definitely a boy." You snort as the guys file into the room. Namjoon enters and you smile at him which he returns with deep dimples. 

"Seokjin is with your sister for a while. I need some pussy, I'm a starved man in Busan." He says before picking up the cellphone box. You hum to him before laughing. 

"How is she?" Jeongguk throws his phone in before sitting next to your empty seat. 

"She talks a lot. Whines a lot. Demands a lot." Namjoon mumbles and you nod. 

"Runs in the family." Jimin says rubbing your stomach. You roll your eyes as Yoongi enters, throwing his phone in the box before looking at you and nodding. You smile at him before getting off of Jimin and sitting in your own seat. Namjoon throws the box outside of the room before shutting the door. 

"Y/N, please. The next time you talk to your sister, please tell her to stop asking me to fuck her." Namjoon begs of you as he sits down with a groan. You laugh loudly before tilting your head. 

"Yeah, I'll tell her." Jimin chuckles before sitting back in his chair. 

"Guns." Namjoon says pulling his own as everyone does the same. Jimin stretches his arms up.

"Agendas?" You nod before clearing your throat. 

"I have one." Jimin holds his hand out for you to continue. 

"One of my girls Sera was beat during her night with one of her guests." Taehyung sits up straighter tilting his head. 

"So I sent him to the warehouse." You turn your head to Guk as he looks at you. 

"Chop his dick off." He smiles before rubbing his hands together. 

"Yes ma'am!" Jeongguk salutes you before putting a toothpick in his mouth. 

"Is that all?" Hoseok asks you before drinking his coffee. 

"No. That isn't." Jimin begins to rub your stomach raising his eyebrow. You clear your throat, Jimin is about to get very upset with you. 

"I would like to put me going in to see Four to a vote." Jimin's hand stills on you before scoffing. 

"There is no voting! You're not going to see her! Getting upset is bad for the baby." You raise your hand not listening to him. 

"I vote yes." 

"Y/N!" Yoongi raises his hand, earning a glare from your husband. 

"You better put your fucking hand down." He warns Yoongi who slowly slides his arm back into his lap. 

"Look at me." You stare across the table at Taehyung stubbornly. Jimin grabs your face with both of his hands before turning your neck to look at him. 

"You are not going in that fucking room with my baby inside you. Do you fucking hear me? I swear to God! If you even touch that door pad-" 

"You'll what? Shoot me? Kill me? You aren't going to do shit. Just let me see her!" Jimin yells frustrated before pressing your cheeks harder, his wedding band digging into your cheekbone. 

"You are NOT going in that room. I DON'T CARE ABOUT A FUCKING NAME, YOU'RE MORE IMPORTANT!" You smirk at his anger. The way his neck gets red, his veins bulging out of his skin makes you smile. You know how much he cares for you, and seeing him all worked up brings out the giddy brat you can be. 

"Wipe that smile off your face." He mumbles before letting your face go and leaning back in his chair. 

"She's not going in that room. End of story. The next time you DO go in that room, she's being moved to Jeongguk's warehouse." You angle your chair away from him before folding your arms. 

"Fucking brat, I swear to God." Jimin mumbles before pushing his hair back. Everyone stares at the both of you not knowing what to do. 

"Well? Next fucking agenda."

Jimin slams the door of your bedroom harshly making you raise an eyebrow. 

"I swear to God! You are so infuriating sometimes!" You take off your black jersey dress before smiling and sitting on the bed. 

"What're you going to do Daddy? Punish me?" Jimin scoffs taking off his cuff links. 

"You're such a little brat. Jesus fucking Christ." Your pregnancy hormones matching with Jimin's temper was the perfect combination for chaos. And sex, lots of sex. Jimin shoves you down into the bed by your shoulders. He straddles you grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. 

"You really want that name don't you?" 

"Yes." Jimin sighs loudly before burying his face into your neck. 

"Why don't you just fucking listen to me? You never listen." You put your head back as he begins to kiss down your skin.

"It's more fun that way." Jimin scoffs opening up your legs and kneeling inside them. 

"Fucking ridiculous." He mumbles to himself as he rips your bra off. 

His arm muscles flexing and straining as he pulls off the ripped fabric. Your breasts were aching and sensitive, although Jimin was angry he still had a gentle touch that had you mewling for him. 

"I will let you go and see her, once. Just once." He whispers quietly as his lips encase your nipple. You pick your head up shocked.

"Really?!" You exclaim, earning Jimin's hand over your mouth as he flicks at your nipple with his tongue. You throw your body back as you wrap your legs around his waist. 

"Fuck." Jimin curses sitting up and taking off his shirt. He's back on you within seconds, pulling your chin down with his thumb and index finger to let his tongue caress yours as you moan for him. 

"Come here." He whispers wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you up to sit on his lap. 

Your legs wrap around his body as he puts his hand to the back of your head as he kisses you. His hand reaches down, ripping your underwear off of your body. You were soaking for him, your body so receptive to his touch. 

"I want you to ride my cock like a good little girl." He whispers before unbuttoning his dress pants. You slide off of him so he could get fully undressed, your fingers reaching down and playing with your swollen clit as he watches you. 

"Look at my little Kitten, so ready to please Daddy." You smile at him as he sits against the headboard stroking his cock lazily before patting his lap. 

"Come ride, Daddy." You bite your bottom lip crawling onto his lap.

You rub the angry red head of his cock against you and Jimin puts his head back to the headboard. 

"You're fucking dripping. Christ." He whispers, closing his eyes. He grips his cock before slapping the head against your clit, moans ripping from your throat as your head lulls back. He teases your entrance and you sit down on him slowly. A low moan leaving the both of you as he fills you up completely. 

"Your pregnant pussy feels fucking amazing." He mumbles before wrapping his arms around you. You begin to ride him, your face burying into the crook of his neck as he moans loudly. 

"Fuck. You feel so fucking good." His tongue darting out to lick his lips as you bounce on him. You press yourself closer to him and even in his ecstasy he worries about you. 

"Watch the baby. Fuck." His chest and neck developing a sheen of sweat as you buck your hips to his. Jimin pushes you up before grabbing your hips. 

"You're so gorgeous." He praises you as he leans forward suckling at your nipple. 

"Jimin!" Your hands grab at his hair as he begins to buck himself upwards into you. 

"Yes! Fuck!" Your body feeling like jello, completely boneless as he pushes you down onto your back. His hands on either side of your head as he begins to bulldoze himself inside you. 

"So fucking wet and tight. Christ Almighty." His bottom lip tucking into his mouth as he chases his high. His hand reaching down and rubbing at your clit as he moans your name loudly. 

"You get me all fucking worked up just to make me fuck you. Hmm? That's what little cum whores do." He pulls out of you and you whine pulling at his hair. 

"Flip over." You pout before doing as told. Jimin slaps your ass and you bury your face into the comforter moaning. 

"You fucking embarrass me in front of our business partner." 

Another slap. 

"In front of my crew." 

Another slap making you whimper. 

"Why? Because, it's fun for you? Well this is fun for me." He whispers before slapping your other cheek giving his slaps no after care. 

"This is what little fucking brats get." He eyes how your cunt pools with desire as your arousal drips down towards the bed. 

"And she enjoys it." He scoffs before bending down licking up your arousal making you moan loudly. 

His mouth encases your clit as he slaps your ass. His tongue unrelenting as he continues to assault your backside. Your moans get louder as the bubble inside you begins to expand towards your orgasm. 

"Fuck! Yes!" You whine out as you reach the precipice, your thighs begin to shake at the oncoming pleasure. Jimin pulls away from you making you sob out upset. 

"Jimin!" He wipes his mouth before rubbing at your small belly. 

"That's what little brats fucking get. You don't get to cum until you apologize." You whine backing up into him. 

"Apologize to Daddy for being a fucking brat!" He smacks your ass appreciating his reddened hand print. Your body begins to shudder in pain. 

"Apologize, Kitten and Daddy will fuck you so good you'll be squirting all over me." Your pride was too strong, you didn't want to apologize but as Jimin enters a finger into your dripping pussy you weren't sure if you could hold on. 

"If you apologize you can have a whole hour with Four. Hmm?" You close your eyes as he adds another finger. His hand leaving your stomach as he slaps your ass. Your body lurching forward as he begins to finger at the rough patch within you making you see stars. 

"Daddy!" Jimin hums in agreement as he feels your cunt begin to throb for him. He pulls out, licking his fingers and shrugging. 

"I can do this all night, baby." He says simply as you begin to sob at the loss. He teases your pussy with his cock, slapping the head against your sensitive clit. His pre-cum and your arousal mixing together as he rubs his cock between your pussy lips, small moans leaving his lips. 

"Stop being a stubborn brat and apologize."

He enters just the head into you, his eyebrows furrowing at your tightness as he fucks you with just the head. You bite your lip backing into him and he pulls out entirely. Your hands flying to your hair as you lift your head and narrowing your eyes at him. He wipes the tears from your cheeks before slapping your clit with the palm of his hand. 

"Apologize." You shake your head and he chuckles darkly. He flips you over effortlessly before pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingertips almost painfully. Your whimpering and moaning makes him smirk as you rub at your stomach. 

"Good girls get a fat load of cum in their cunt. If you apologize I'll fill you up with my cum." He whispers before settling his head between your legs, suckling at your clit once more. Your eyes staring into his as he licks at your nub. 

"Shit." He hums in agreement as he rubs at your taught stomach. 

"Daddy, please." He pinches your nipple and you cringe at the pain. 

"Please, Daddy fuck me!" He pulls away before wiping his face. 

"You know what you have to say to make it all better." He enters his cock into you fully before giving two thrusts and then pulling out fully. Your eyes rolling back before sighing. 

"Fuck! Okay! I'm sorry! Okay? I'm fucking sorry." Jimin thrusts harshly into you making you practically scream for him as he bulldozes himself inside you. 

"See? Wasn't that easy?" Your eyes rolling back into your head as he puts your ankles on his shoulders. Curses leaving his lips as your pussy tightens around him from the new angle. 

"Fuck, this pregnant pussy is incredible." He moans, putting his head back as he begins to rub your clit. His hands resting on your thighs as he fucks you roughly. 

"Daddy! Right there! Yes!" His black hair sticking to his forehead sweated through as he feels his balls begin to tighten. 

"Ah, Christ this pussy feels too good." He whispers as he rubs your clit quicker. Your thighs begin to shake and Jimin moans lowly as you begin to throb around him trying to milk him of his cum. Your orgasm building quickly from all the previous edging. 

"Watch the baby." He mumbles in his pleasure as you begin to thrust back up towards him. Your fingers grip at the bed sheets as his cock begins to shudder within you. 

"Fuck, cum on my cock. Shit, feels so good." He whispers as you reach your climax. Your back bows off the bed as you orgasm. His name rolls off your tongue like a prayer as your eyes screw shut. 

"Christ! You're so tight for me. Fuck!" Jimin falls over you burying his face into your neck as he bucks into you with every ounce of strength he has. His cock throbbing quickly inside you before stilling. Jimin moans quietly before giving smaller thrusts to your pussy, riding out his pleasure. 

"Shit." He whispers before sitting back up breathing heavily. He wipes at his forehead with his hand before thrusting into you again. 

"I love you." He whispers as you open your eyes. 

"I love you too." He bites his lip as he fucks his cum out of you onto the sheets. 

"You get one hour with her tomorrow. That's it. You hear me?" He asks before moaning quietly. You nod before giving him a large smile. He snorts before bending down and kissing you. 

"You're still a brat, but you're my brat." He mumbles against your lips making you giggle. He begins to thrust inside you again, his cock getting hard once more. 

"Fuck, how does this pussy feel so amazing? Is it because my baby is in here?" He asks, rubbing your stomach, he pulls out of you before sighing and leaning against the headboard. 

"Lick it off." He whispers before opening and closing his hands welcoming you to his body. You sit up on shaky legs before taking his cock into your mouth. You moan gently at his musky taste as you lick the cum off of his cock. 

"Good girl." He whispers brushing your hair away from your face. Jimin moans loudly as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock before taking him all into your mouth and throat. Swallowing diligently to fit it all in till he hits the back of your throat. 

"You suck such good cock. Fuck me." He mumbles palming your breasts. You pull off of him stroking his cock with your hand as he pulls you in for a deep kiss. 

"Sit on my cock." He begs of you grabbing at your hips. You bite your lip as you ease yourself on to him. He rubs at the indents of your hips with his thumbs as you bounce on him. His mouth opening in pleasure as you moan his name. 

"I'm not going to be able to cum but it feels so fucking good." He mumbles burying his face into your neck. 

"Two hours with Four and I'll make you cum." You tell him, making him laugh with the shake of his head. 

"Fuck you know how to negotiate, don't you?" You begin to bounce on him faster and a choked moan leaves his throat. 

"Fine. Make me cum and you have two hours." He whispers as you flick at your nipples with your fingertips, the pleasure egging you on to ride him properly. His cock shuddering inside you as you swivel your hips on him. 

"Oh, Kitten! Fuck!" You moan for him as he grips at your ass. His fingertips dig into your skin as you begin to sweat. Your thighs were starting to lock and get tired but you need that time with Four. Nevermind, the fact that his cock feels so fucking good. 

"Just like that. Fuck, yes. Keep going, baby. I'm going to cum!" Jimin whimpers out as you slide up and down his cock, your pussy juices leaking over his thighs and balls. 

"Fuck! Yes! Kitten!" His cock begins to throb inside you and you swivel your hips quicker letting the head of his cock hit your g-spot. His name tumbling out of your mouth as your head falls back. 

"Shit! Oh God!" Jimin moans lowly before orgasming. His moans almost becoming sobs as his thighs shake in pleasure. You continue to ride him, rubbing at your clit. 

"Mmm. Fuck, let Daddy see how you please yourself on his big cock." Whimpers of his name and curses emitting throughout the room as he begins to fuck up into you. 

"Cum for me again. Good girl, cum on my cock." You close your eyes as the bubble begins to build before bursting unexpectedly as Jimin encases your nipple into his mouth. You squirt your cum over his thighs as you moan loudly. 

"Good girl." Jimin mumbles before pulling you in for a kiss. You sag against him exhausted and he chuckles. 

"Let's get you to bed." He whispers helping you off of him and laying you down brushing your hair over your shoulders and on to your back. He hums in agreement as you whine. 

"My feisty little Kitten." He kisses your forehead as you bury your fave into the pillow. He grabs his briefs before wiping at his thighs and his cock. 

"Open your legs for me." You do so gingerly and he cleans you up before throwing his underwear to the floor. 

"Two hours. You promised." Jimin snorts laying down next to you, pulling your head on to his chest. 

"Two hours." He agrees as he rubs at your stomach. 

"Hyunah was right this morning. You're beginning to show my baby off." You smirk as you close your eyes. 

"Just six more months." He nods before kissing the top of your head. 

"I think it'll be a boy." He whispers to you as you begin to fall from consciousness. 

"Me too." You whisper before falling asleep. Jimin angles his head to look at you before smirking and closing his eyes. "My little legacy getting big to meet the world." 

#the bird cage #mafia!jimin #mafia!au #mafia!bts #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts smut #bts story #pregnancy kink #bts imagine #bts book #taehyung #jimin #hoseok #yoongi #jeongguk #seokjin #namjoon

[elizabear]

body language will do the trick

OK, so I know this is going to be fully AU in about five seconds when The Falcon and the Winter Soldier airs, but those couples counseling scenes in the trailer got me WAY TOO EXCITED and I really couldn't help myself.

Title: body language will do the trick

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Relationship: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes (background Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff)

Additional tags: frenemies to lovers, coworkers to lovers, couples counseling, because sam and bucky can’t stop flirting at work, post-avengers endgame, but it’s au because, steve rogers isn’t old, and natasha romanoff lives, captain america sam wilson, shield agent bucky barnes, past steve rogers/bucky barnes, but it’s minor, bucky and sam fall in love, but COMPETITIVELY, oral sex, anal sex, tender railing, idiots in love, praise kink

Words: 12,598

Link to AO3: here

Summary:

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

Bucky Barnes is pretty sure that these counseling sessions—supposedly for Bucky and Sam’s “interpersonal issues”—are Director Fury’s revenge for that whole fake assassination situation. Which, to be fair to Fury, came about as the result of Bucky’s very real assassination attempt, even if the subsequent “assassination” was fake, so Bucky can’t exactly blame Fury there. What Bucky doesn’t understand is why their possibly-fake counselor—is she a real counselor, or just another one of Fury’s spies?—chooses to conduct her “therapy” sessions in the unlikely and frankly suspicious location of an underground bunker.

Dr. Carson’s therapy bunker is probably just a temporary location, since usable office facilities with running water and electricity are still pretty limited after the Blip, but Bucky was definitely under the impression that modern American therapists’ offices were supposed to be more soothing than this. He’d expected a bland but tasteful space filled with a cushy sofa and watercolor paintings and the calming sounds of nature recordings. Instead, Bucky and Sam are sitting in uncomfortable chairs in a dim room with bare cement walls and unflattering fluorescent lighting. Is Fury even trying to sell this fake counseling op?

Bucky and Sam’s counselor/interrogator is most definitely hostile. Although Dr. Carson looks lovely in her delicate green silk blouse and expensive silk scarf, her expression is stern and sour. She’s styled her glossy dark hair neatly, in gentle waves that summon a distant memory of the way women used to wear their hair in the 1940s, and Bucky wonders if this is Dr. Carson’s authentic style or if it’s just part of another SHIELD spy game, meant to trick or manipulate Bucky into confiding in Dr. Carson because she looks familiar and nonthreatening.

Bucky considers it an insult to the memory of Peggy Carter if Fury thinks he could’ve worked with Carter for two years in the SSR and still underestimate a woman just because she has nice hair and a pretty outfit.

Also, if Dr. Carson’s trying to lull Bucky into a false sense of security, why is she doing it in this weird basement?

Honestly this whole counseling thing really does seem like it’s secretly just a poorly planned interrogation.

Like right now. Dr. Carson asks, “Are you having a staring contest?” and Bucky isn’t going to disclose valuable intel by admitting that while Sam is definitely having a staring contest with him, Bucky is just using this as an excuse to look into Sam’s eyes, which are warm and brown and make Bucky feel all sorts of confusing things. Bucky is trained to resist interrogation, and that piece of information definitely falls under the category of “unexpected and alarming potential weaknesses.”

Also Bucky’s still sort of figuring out how he feels about Sam’s whole eye and face and shoulder situation, so the staring contest is actually a pretty great cover for whatever the fuck is really going on with him. Half of successfully surviving an interrogation is letting your captors fill in the blanks themselves and then pretending like their waterboarding is the worst thing you’ve ever endured.

Unfortunately, while Bucky is congratulating himself on successfully maintaining operations security—and winning their staring contest, no reason he can’t do both at once—Dr. Carson seems to reach her limit for the amount of shit she’s willing to endure from them today.

“You’re not taking this seriously.” Dr. Carson shoots them with a hard glare. “I’m giving you a five minute break, and if you’re not ready to open up and work on your communication and compatibility issues, I’m going to have to advise Fury to put you both on leave.”

Bucky’s fine with being put on leave, and he’s fully prepared to wait out SHIELD, Fury, and Dr. Carson. It took HYDRA fifteen years to break him down enough to send him out on missions, and no matter how much they tortured him Bucky didn’t shed so much as a single tear until they showed him newspaper headlines about what a bad pilot Steve turned out to be.

Also, Bucky’s not entirely sure that he’s not actually immortal, so he figures his patience will probably far outlast Fury’s determination to punish him for shooting him a few times when he didn’t even die. Actually, now that Bucky thinks about it, Fury’s probably less mad about the whole fake assassination thing than he is about Steve forcing him to offer Bucky a job and then grit out the most begrudging apology Bucky has ever heard in his life for SHIELDRA holding Bucky hostage as a brainwashed assassin while Fury was the Director of SHIELD. Right in front of Captain Marvel, too, Fury’s favorite Avenger, who had looked very disappointed in him. Apparently Danvers had her own history as a superpowered amnesiac brainwashed into working for the bad guys? Bucky’s unclear on the details, but when Danvers’s mouth tightened and her head shook in dismay, Nick Fury’s shoulders had slumped like a chastened schoolboy.

God, Steve is such a dick sometimes. Bucky loves him so much.

Dr. Carson’s high heels make clipped little clicking noises that speak volumes about her frustration with them as she strides purposefully out of the room. As soon as she closes the door, so firmly that Bucky can just tell that she had to have put conscious, controlled effort into not slamming it behind her, Bucky turns to Sam with a satisfied grin.

“Well, I think we’re doing great,” Bucky says. “SHIELD’s going to have to work a lot harder to get any real intel out of us, and I was definitely promised that they wouldn’t be using any drugs or brainwashing techniques this time so I think we’re going to nail this whole interrogation.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “This is therapy, man, not an interrogation. We’re supposed to be, like, opening up and becoming a better team.”

“Yeah, well, if this is real therapy then where are the goats?” Bucky says, raising an eyebrow toward the most likely location of the nearest camera as if to say gotcha, Fury, your goatless fake therapy interrogation tactic isn’t fooling me.

“I’m sorry, goats? Why would there be goats?”

Bucky leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. “I’m just saying, in Wakanda I always got to hang out with animals when I did therapy. And look how great that turned out! I hardly ever kill anyone anymore, and when I do it’s on purpose because I decided to. Anyway, I really feel like this is all just a plot by SHIELD to find out why we—”

Bucky and Sam bicker for a while about whether or not this is real therapy until they’re interrupted by Dr. Carson’s return, her face looking a little damp now, like maybe she spent her time away from them splashing water on it and doing some deep breathing exercises in the bathroom.

“OK,” says Dr. Carson, visibly relaxing her spine. “We’re going to take a new approach. Have you heard of the five love languages?”

Sam’s eyes widen in horror. “No, we are not doing the five love languages.”

Bucky hasn’t heard of the five love languages, but he can tell from the look on Sam’s face that they definitely don’t want to do this, and Bucky’s pretty good at improvising when he needs to. “Oh, you know, I think HYDRA already implanted the five love languages in my brain when they were doing the rest of the Romance languages. So we can just skip those, I already know them.”

Bucky offers Dr. Carson his blandest and most innocent smile, the same one that sometimes worked on Sister Mary Angela back at old St. Charles Borromeo, but Dr. Carson’s face remains as stony and unmoved as the church itself, still standing in Brooklyn Heights in the year of our Lord 2023. Instead she says, “I think we need to take a couples therapy approach.”

“Couples therapy,” Sam repeats, sinking lower in his chair. Bucky winces as Sam’s knee starts to crush his balls.

“According to this file,” Dr. Carson says, opening it up to read aloud, “the two of you are here because your colleagues have complained about your, quote, romantically-charged bickering, your constant flirting, and your unnecessarily sexual sparring.”

Dr. Carson punctuates these damning statements with some truly savage air quotes.

“Listen, when I slap Sam’s bare ass in the locker room after a good sparring session it’s with purely collegial respect for a worthy opponent,” Bucky says, folding his arms across his chest. “I only ever treat Sam with the same level of professional respect I give Steve and Natasha.”

Sam nods in support. “Steve and Natasha never have a problem getting sweaty and physical with us, and I’ve personally witnessed Steve and Natasha slap Bucky’s ass dozens of times.”

Dr. Carson raises a single judgmental eyebrow. “Don’t you think there might be a reason why Fury’s banned the four of you from using the gym at the same time?”

“Uh, yeah,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. “The other SHIELD agents get intimidated by Sam’s shredded abs and Steve’s and my super strength. Plus everyone’s scared of Natasha.”

Dr. Carson closes her eyes and visibly counts to ten. Bucky can see her mouth forming the words.

“All right, we’re just going to move on here, because I’m really only able to deal with just the one dysfunctional relationship at a time.” Dr. Carson passes them some worksheets and pencils. “I want you to fill these out, honestly, and then hand them back to me when you’re done.”

Bucky reads over the worksheets, which are filled with questions like, “Do you like it more when your partner reacts positively to something you’ve accomplished or when they do something for you that you know they don’t particularly enjoy?” There are a lot of questions about hugging, and holding hands, and Bucky gets distracted trying to picture holding hands with Sam, who has big hands, strong and capable and—

“Stop trying to copy my answers,” Sam says, when he notices Bucky glancing over at the way Sam grips his pen as he fills out his worksheet. Sam shoves his knee harder into Bucky’s crotch and Bucky stifles a gasp.

“I’m not!”

“Bucky, stop cheating.” Dr. Carson presses her lips together in a severe frown.

Bucky scowls and scooches his chair back several inches. It makes a loud scraping sound as it drags against the cement floor. But before going back to filling out his form, Bucky gives Sam’s ankle a sharp kick for getting him in trouble with Dr. Carson, and the two of them engage in a brief but brutal silent kicking war below the front of the desk where Dr. Carson can’t see.

When Bucky and Sam finish their kicking war and their quizzes, they hand their worksheets back to Dr. Carson for grading and rub their shins as they wait.

“Bucky, your primary love language is words of affirmation, and your secondary love language is physical touch,” Dr. Carson announces. “And Sam, your primary love language is acts of service, while your secondary love language is quality time.”

Bucky frowns. On the one hand, he feels like he’s received some pretty valuable intel about Sam that he could use to his benefit. But on the other hand, he’s probably given up some valuable intel of his own. He wishes there hadn’t been so many questions that made him think about hugging and touching Sam—somehow those made him so distracted that he forgot to respond with lies.

Bucky’s stomach knots up a bit at the thought of Sam learning his potential weaknesses, but really, how much of a psyop could Sam possibly launch with the results from a couples counseling questionnaire? (Natasha could probably execute a successful psyop based on the information from a Buzzfeed quiz meant to reveal your “celebrity mom,” so Bucky really hopes Sam doesn’t talk to Natasha about this.)

“Your homework is to try to learn to speak each other’s language.” Dr. Carson stands up and walks around the desk to touch Bucky’s shoulder. “Good job today, Bucky.”

Bucky smiles, and the knot in his stomach releases a bit. He is so nailing this therapy thing, he knew he’d be better at it than Sam.

Dr. Carson helps Sam back into his coat as she ushers them toward the door, and Bucky’s pretty sure she’s meant to be modeling an act of service except that mostly it seems like she’s just trying to rush them out of the office.

“See you next week.” Dr. Carson smiles stiffly, like she is not at all looking forward to seeing them next week. Her expression is full of determined professionalism right up until the click of the door latch, and then Bucky hears a dull thudding noise that is pretty unmistakably the sound of Dr. Carson hitting her head against the doorframe.

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

***

They’re on a mission together the next day, battling some Doombots in New Jersey, and wow is Sam committed to this whole words of affirmation thing.

When Bucky deflects a punch aimed straight for Sam’s head with his vibranium arm, Sam whistles and says, “Nice save, man, you’re killing it today.” Warmth rises up in Bucky’s chest at Sam’s praise, and Bucky is filled with panic and dismay when he realizes that the fight to squash it back down is honestly more taxing than their battle against Doombots. There’s absolutely no reason Bucky should be having such a physical reaction to basic battle camaraderie.

When Bucky stretches his leg up above his head to nail one of the bots with a vicious kick, Sam smirks and gives him a distinct how-you-doing sort of nod. “That was—seriously hot, man. Have you been doing yoga or something?”

So apparently Sam is choosing to interpret words of affirmation as “wild flirtation,” and Bucky’s cheeks are choosing to betray him by radiating at Sam’s attention. Bucky knows there’s a flush spreading down his neck, and he’s hoping Sam will attribute it to exertion from the fight, because there’s no way Bucky can let Sam know that Sam’s sort of winning at their therapy homework—not when Bucky’s entire mental health journey and, like, the honor of the Wakandan animal-assisted therapy program is at stake.

But after they board the Quinjet and set the autopilot on a course back to New York, Sam gives Bucky a slow up-and-down perusal with his eyes, and Bucky feels Sam’s gaze like a physical touch. “You look really good after a fight, Buck. That messed up hair and pretty pink blush are giving me all kinds of ideas.”

Bucky’s cock twitches at that, and huh. Bucky blinks and looks down at his crotch.

So that’s working again.

A dirty smirk spreads across Sam’s face, like maybe Sam knows exactly what just happened inside Bucky’s pants, and fuck, this whole situation is spiraling rapidly out of Bucky’s control. Like, yeah, Bucky kept Sam from getting a pretty gnarly concussion, and that was probably an act of service, right? But it’s pretty clear, to both of them, that Sam is winning this competition, and Bucky is not about to go down without a fight.

Which is—an idea.

Bucky drops to his knees in front of Sam and bites his lip in a way that he knows, instinctively, will make him look hot. Sam inhales sharply in response, and Bucky reaches up to grasp Sam by the hips before he can take a step backwards. The material of Sam’s uniform bunches up and shifts under Bucky’s hands, and fuck, Bucky’s cock is aching now, throbbing and filling up in his tight uniform pants. Bucky forgot he could feel so good.

“What are you doing,” Sam protests in a half-assed sort of way.

“Servicing you,” Bucky replies with a wicked grin, sliding Sam’s zipper down slowly over his thickening cock. Bucky can’t remember if he’s done this before, but the way his mouth waters and his throat aches in anticipation makes him feel pretty fucking confident about how this is going to go down.

But before Bucky can pull Sam’s cock out of his briefs, Sam slides his fingers into Bucky’s hair and tips his head gently backward, using his other hand to tilt Bucky’s chin up to look into Sam’s face. Sam’s pretty brown eyes are already darkening with arousal, but his expression is serious.

“You don’t have to suck my dick for therapy, man.”

Bucky huffs. “Sam, this is the first time my dick’s been hard since 1945. Do you know how many times Steve’s let me watch him jerk off trying to heIp me get hard again? I am definitely not doing this only to win at therapy, pal.”

Sam’s hands freeze in Bucky’s hair and his cock swells visibly in his briefs. “I’m sorry, Steve let you do what now? Dude, I thought Steve was straight.”

“Oh, he’s definitely, like, straight-ish,” Bucky assures Sam, with a little so-so wave of his hand that hopefully conveys the correct amount of ambiguity there. “He’s mostly just a really great friend.”

Sam’s eyes close for a long moment, and then Bucky’s scalp stings when Sam clenches his fist in Bucky’s hair and pulls. “Jesus,” mutters Sam, his voice gruff and husky. “Yeah, OK, baby. Go ahead and suck my dick.”

Bucky’s heart pounds as he pulls Sam’s cock out of his briefs and licks a wet stripe up the length of it, groaning at the feel of Sam’s skin under his tongue. Sam tastes salty with sweat, and his scent is musky and thick after their fight with the Doombots. Bucky teases him for a while, the way he’s seen people do in porn, trailing wet kisses along the shaft and mouthing at the head, and Sam lets out a ragged moan when Bucky’s mouth finally engulfs him. Bucky’s feeling pretty cocky about this, loves the rush of power he feels as Sam’s hips twitch and jerk to keep from thrusting into Bucky’s mouth—but then Sam fucking escalates shit, because Sam is an asshole.

“Christ, you feel good,” Sam murmurs, reaching down to rub his thumb against Bucky’s mouth, stretched wide around Sam’s cock. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.”

And then Bucky’s the one moaning, eyelids fluttering shut and heat coursing down his spine at the sound of Sam’s husky voice. Bucky should have expected Sam to counter his act of service with more words of affirmation, but somehow he wasn’t prepared for the unbearable ache he’d feel at Sam’s dirty talk. Bucky feels inexperienced, outclassed at this sort of sexual warfare, and the only way he can retaliate is by sinking as far down on Sam’s cock as his throat will allow him. He reaches up to grab Sam’s hips, urging him to fuck his mouth, and then he hums a little inside his head to try to tune out the sound of Sam’s praise.

“Fuck,” says Sam. “God, that’s it, baby. You take it so well, Buck. So fucking good for me.”

Bucky whines, his jaw aching, eyes filling with tears as Sam’s cock stretches his mouth open. Sam keeps offering him filthy praise as he slides his mouth up and down Sam’s thick cock, and Bucky doesn’t know why this is doing it for him when all of Steve’s pale skin and strong thighs and big dick couldn’t, but maybe seventy years of torture and captivity have left Bucky with a few new kinks. Or maybe Bucky’s just healing or whatever. Bucky honestly doesn’t care, as long as Sam keeps letting him fill his throat with Sam’s dick.

Sam’s voice is rough when he says, “God, you fucking love it, don’t you,” and Bucky pulls off Sam’s cock just long enough to nod eagerly and gasp for air before diving back in. “Take your dick out, baby. I want you to come sucking my cock.”

Bucky’s rhythm stutters at that, his hand reaching down to pull his cock out of his uniform pants. He wants to be so fucking good for Sam, wants to come just how Sam says, wants Sam to keep telling him how good he looks, how much he loves fucking Bucky’s mouth, how much he likes giving it to him.

Sam’s praise grows hotter and filthier as he gets closer, and Bucky whimpers as he feels his own orgasm approaching. God, he hasn’t come in so long, hasn’t felt that hot rush and that familiar ache in his balls in forever and he wants it, wants to come, he just needs—

“Come on, baby, come for me, I know you can do it, just keep sucking my cock, God, you look so good, baby, don’t stop, don’t stop—”

And Bucky spirals over the edge, cock pulsing and spilling over his fist. He lets out a choked moan around Sam’s dick before his mouth is flooded with bitter, salty fluid. And then Bucky feels so fucking full, like he could drown happily in Sam’s smell and his taste and his fucking words of affirmation.

Fuck.

Bucky definitely did not win that round.

***

The whole blow job thing was an outstanding idea, really, one of Bucky’s best. But fuck, he did not anticipate Sam using that as an opportunity to completely turn the tables and affirm the shit out of him. Bucky can’t help but privately acknowledge to himself that Sam is completely winning at love languages so far.

They’re in counseling the next week, still in Dr. Carson’s depressing therapy bunker, and honestly, Bucky can’t imagine that this setting is good for, like, anybody’s mental health. His therapy in Wakanda always took place outdoors, under the warm African sun, surrounded by the wild, earthy smells of mud and animals and Lake Turkana. It made him feel open and free and connected to nature or whatever. It was peaceful.

Therapy at SHIELD is not very peaceful, especially because Dr. Carson clearly hates them, and she isn’t at all impressed by what Bucky considers some very impressive progress by them. Bucky and Sam are getting along.

“So,” Dr. Carson begins, apparently deciding to just start right off with more hurtful accusations from their colleagues, “according to Carl from the gun range, the two of you have been subjecting your coworkers to your, quote, uncomfortable bickering-slash-foreplay, and Maria Hill reports that you’re still, quote, cluttering up comms during missions with the most embarrassing flirting I have ever heard, I hate it so much.”

Dr. Carson’s air quotes are fucking vicious.

Despite the fact that they’ve only just started their session, Dr. Carson looks tense and aggravated already. She’s wearing another pretty silk blouse today, but her earrings don’t seem to match and it looks like she didn’t bother to curl her hair today. Maybe she just realized that Bucky wasn’t fooled by those forties waves?

Also, even though it’s Friday, Dr. Carson’s giving off a very Monday sort of vibe.

“Sam and I are working on it, OK?” Bucky says, with a mulish set to his jaw. “Obviously I’m doing my best here, but it’s hard to do therapy in a cement basement that gives me flashbacks to 1970s HYDRA facilities where I was tortured. And there aren’t even any pets at all to comfort me. Didn’t you receive the note from my Wakandan therapist stating that I require animals during therapy?”

A blood vessel in Dr. Carson’s forehead throbs, and she raises her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I’ll see if I can get us a room upstairs for our next session, but I’m telling you for the last time that we don’t have any therapy goats.”

“Well, I don’t have any issues doing therapy without goats,” Sam says, like the worst sort of teacher’s pet. God, Sam’s teachers probably loved his charming smile and his quick wit and his stupid handsome face. “Maybe Bucky is using the goats as an emotional crutch.”

“Listen, goat therapy works, OK?” Bucky counts out on his fingers as he lists the many examples of real progress he’s made since his time as a goat farmer in Wakanda. “I started off as an amnesiac brainwashed assassin, and now I have a steady job, a haircut, an apartment leased under my own shell companies, and I only kill people when I want to kill people now. And I wash my hair regularly. And if I don’t wash my hair, I use dry shampoo. And I don’t turn into a mindless killing machine when people speak Russian at me.”

“Dude,” Sam says.

“Anyway, it’s fine if you’re not as good at therapy as me.”

“Not as—not as good at therapy as you? Man, I am a certified peer specialist. I was so good at my own therapy that they let me give other people therapy,” Sam says, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Yeah, in America, where they’re not even familiar with things like advanced goat therapy.” Bucky clucks his tongue and shakes his head. “Did you even keep up with your continuing education requirements while you were fugitives with Steve?”

Sam sinks lower in his seat and frowns. “No. But speaking of Steve,” Sam says, perking up a bit as he follows a new thread of argument. “Whose PTSD recovery was so complete and inspirational that Steve Rogers trusted them with the responsibility of carrying the Captain America shield, hm?”

“Listen, Steve is reckless as shit and he’s so irresponsible with that shield that he’s constantly losing it in rivers and getting it broken by alien supervillains,” Bucky points out. “I’m so recovered that the king of an entire country, a man so responsible that they put him in charge of running literally everything in the most advanced nation on the planet, trusted me with a prosthetic arm powerful enough to crush the skull of an ordinary man with a single blow. Probably even his skull, and he’s been enhanced by some weird plant that makes him even stronger than Steve.”

“Yeah, well, I’m so recovered that—”

Dr. Carson interrupts them here, pinching the bridge of her nose. “OK, listen, I think there’s actually something pretty interesting here in how you each relate your recovery to your ability to wield weapons. Why don’t we stop bickering and discuss that a little further?”

“Yeah, OK,” Bucky mumbles.

Sam sighs heavily. “Fine.”

***

So the blow job thing is working perfectly—like, so perfectly, God, Sam’s dick is amazing—except for the fact that Sam is able to talk the entire time. Words of affirmation spill from Sam’s pretty lips every time Bucky swallows his cock, and Bucky is still fucking losing the love languages competition.

It’s time to create a Pinterest strategy board to figure this thing out.

Bucky is a visual planner, and he believes in tactical flexibility. He might not remember a lot about sex, but there’s tons of porn on the Internet. He just needs to find a couple of ways to service Sam while Sam’s mouth is otherwise occupied. How hard could that be?

After a lot of research and the creation of several Pinterest mood boards, Bucky calls Steve down the hall to his apartment to help him out. They all live in the same building since it has the best security in the city—and Bucky and Natasha are very particular about security—and it makes sense for the four of them to basically live together when they already spend all their time together. When Steve arrives, they head right to Bucky’s bedroom, get undressed, and survey the porn board on Bucky’s laptop.

“OK, so what about sixty-nine,” Steve suggests. “Let’s try that.”

They get themselves into position, mouths hovering over each other’s flaccid dicks like totally normal best friends.

“See, I feel like this works, but is it really servicing Sam if he’s, like, servicing me at the same time?” Bucky flops over onto his back in frustration and worries at his lower lip with his teeth.

Steve nods and tilts his head in thought. “Yeah, I see what you mean. Depending on the grading rubric, the two acts might cancel each other out. How about rimming?”

“I feel like rimming is a great idea, and I definitely want to do that, but how do I shut him up while I do it?”

Steve frowns. “Can you reach up and cover his mouth with your hand? Hold on, let me bend over and we’ll see.” Steve gets on his hands and knees, tilting his ass up for Bucky to simulate a rim job.

“You know, your ass really is kind of amazing.” Bucky takes a moment to admire the jewel of Howard Stark’s empire. “I mean, it was cute as hell when you were little too, but Scott Lang definitely wasn’t wrong in that podcast episode about which superhero has America’s ass. Don’t tell Sam I said that, by the way.”

“Thanks, pal,” Steve says, flashing Bucky a quick grin. “Your ass is great too, Sam’s a lucky guy. Now bend over and pretend to rim me.”

Bucky leans down and uses his hand to cover Steve’s exposed hole, then presses his mouth against the back of his hand to simulate a rim job. He reaches forward with his other arm to see if he can put his vibranium hand over Steve’s mouth. He could—maybe? If he releases the catch on his shoulder?

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Bucky says with a frown. “Here, maybe try getting on your back and holding onto your legs?”

“Like this?” Steve asks, shifting gamely into position. Bucky folds him over and pretends to rim him while covering Steve’s mouth, which—works, actually. And this is probably the most erotic scene Bucky’s ever been a part of—Steve really does look incredible like this—so it’s kind of a shame that it does absolutely nothing whatsoever for Bucky’s dick.

Except then Bucky pictures Sam in Steve’s position, bent over and whining under Bucky’s vibranium hand, and Bucky’s cock gives a little twitch. Fuck.

Bucky sighs and releases Steve with a short nod. “Not bad, pal. I think this one’s gonna work. Let’s write it down.”

They test out a few more positions, taking careful notes on the comfort and degree of mouth coverage of each one. Bucky finds a few more pictures to add to his Pinterest board, and they sort through every image and assign them to the correct position number. Then Bucky and Steve print off their pictures and tape them to Bucky’s wall for inspiration, mapping out a sequence of actions that will lead to orgasms for both Sam and Bucky with a minimum amount of talking on Sam’s part.

Which is a shame, really. Sam’s dirty talk really does it for Bucky.

Still nude, Bucky and Steve stand in front of the vision board and assess the plan.

“I think position two is really going to work,” Steve says, stroking his chin, and Bucky’s brain flashes back to an image of Steve in pretty much this exact pose, assessing a map of HYDRA facilities in Western Europe with no less gravity and passion. God, Steve Rogers is a great fucking friend. “And if you really want to service the guy, I mean, you’ve already got him all loose and open. You might as well give him your dick too, right?”

Bucky nods in agreement. “Yeah, I mean, as long as I keep kissing him, he won’t be able to affirm me too much. I think this really is the winning scenario.”

“Great teamwork, pal,” Steve says, slapping Bucky’s bare ass. “This was fun! Just like the old days.”

Bucky smiles wistfully. “Yeah, there’s nothing like planning an op with The Man With the Plan. Hey, you want to grab dinner after this?”

“Nah,” Steve says, too-casually, angling his pelvis away from Bucky as he pulls his pants back on. “I think I’m gonna go see if Natasha’s busy.”

Bucky grins. “Give her my best.”

“Will do. Love you, pal,” Steve says, giving Bucky a quick kiss before he leaves.

Steve doesn’t bother putting a shirt on before he goes, and Bucky can hear him whistling cheerfully all the way down to Nat’s apartment.

***

Steve and Bucky’s plan was great, so naturally it goes to shit as soon as Sam gets involved.

Bucky’s sucking Sam’s dick, which OK, yeah, wasn’t technically in the plan, but God, Sam’s got such a great dick. How far behind can Bucky really fall in the standings from just one blow job?

“Your mouth feels so fucking good, baby,” Sam says, sliding his long fingers through Bucky’s hair—which Bucky washed before he came over, because he is killing it as a recovered assassin and also because this afternoon Sam grabbed his hips and leaned in, breath hot against Bucky’s ear, and murmured how much he wants to smell Bucky’s shampoo on his pillows tomorrow morning.

Which was both smooth as hell and very convincing. Bucky immediately bought like three more bottles of that shit and accepted Sam’s invitation over to his apartment that night.

So now they’re in Sam’s apartment, and Bucky’s sliding his mouth along Sam’s cock, and Sam’s telling him how much he loves the way Bucky sucks him, loves the way Bucky’s pretty face looks with Sam’s cock in his mouth, lips slick with spit and tears leaking out of his eyes. And then Sam says—

“Are you gonna let me fuck you tonight, baby? Gonna let me see how well you take it?”

And before Bucky knows it, he’s moaning around Sam’s cock and nodding his head, and Sam’s pulling a condom and lube out of the side drawer, and then Bucky’s face down on Sam’s bed, gasping and clenching around Sam’s long fingers.

When Sam finally turns him over and pushes inside him, Bucky feels his brain just—fully vacate his skull. Pleasure buzzes up and down Bucky’s spine like an electric current, and he’s only barely conscious of the wet-sounding gasp that comes out of his mouth when Sam finally slides all the way home.

Sam gives it to him slow and sweet, fucking into him at a dreamy, leisurely pace as Bucky grabs fistfuls of Sam’s sheets and scrabbles at any leverage he can get to try and push back against Sam’s cock. Bucky wants Sam to grab his hips and pound him hard, overwhelm him with stimulation and keep him from sinking under the gentle wave of that languid rhythm. It’s too intimate, too vulnerable, and Bucky’s chest is cracking wide open for Sam to look inside. He’s a little afraid of what Sam might see within him, but instead Sam’s expression is full of awe, his face open and tender as he runs a thumb over Bucky’s cheekbone.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous, so fucking sweet for me.”

There’s a lot of eye contact after that, and romantic face touching, and Sam telling Bucky how much he loves the way he feels, loves the way he looks and smells and tastes. Warmth pools deep in Bucky’s gut, spreading through his veins like the burn of whiskey, until Bucky feels like he’s going to burst into flames around Sam’s cock. Instead he comes, long and hard and messy, all over his stomach.

Sam’s eyes are hot as he looks down at the sight of Bucky’s abs covered in pearly fluid, and then he slams his hips into Bucky three more times, hard, before groaning and collapsing on top of him.

Fuck, Bucky thinks.

He takes a few minutes to catch his breath, and then suppresses a half-hearted sigh when he realizes that he completely blew the plan. Like, yes, that was some fucking amazing sex, Sam gave him the dicking of a lifetime, but somehow Bucky ended up even further behind in the love language competition. How does Sam keep winning?

It’s too late now to offer another act of service. Even if Bucky could get it up again, Sam definitely couldn’t.

Shit.

But wait, what was Sam’s secondary love language? Quality time? Perfect.

Bucky rolls over to give Sam a few open-mouthed kisses on his shoulder. Sam is sweaty from exertion, and he tastes salty and amazing. God, Sam is the best.

“You mind if I stay the night, sweetheart?” Bucky murmurs.

Sam’s lips curve up in a soft and pleased smile. “Yeah, baby, I was hoping you would.”

“C’mere, you can be the little spoon,” Bucky says, reaching around Sam’s waist to reel him in, and Sam huffs out a surprised grunt and then a happy sigh when Bucky wraps his arms and leg around him.

They fall asleep within minutes, and it turns out Sam really was into the smell of Bucky on his pillows because they fuck again in the morning, and this time Bucky forgets to keep track of who’s winning at therapy homework.

***

They fuck constantly after that, which is amazing, but unfortunately Bucky is still staying in this game only by the skin of his teeth. Like, yes, Bucky is performing acts of service for Sam on the regular, but somehow Bucky finds his self-control dissolving like sugar melting into caramel when Sam spreads him out under his dirty mouth and his clever hands.

So now when Sam collapses on top of him at night, fucked out and shaking, Bucky nuzzles his face into the back of Sam’s neck and wraps his arm around him to pull him close. Bucky stays the night, every night, and at work he sticks to Sam more tightly than one of Steve Rogers’s t-shirts. But the more quality time Bucky offers Sam, the more acts of service Bucky ends up performing—which, sure, sounds like a plan that would put Bucky pretty solidly in the lead, except for how Bucky always ends up a sobbing, needy mess dripping onto Sam’s sheets while Sam smirks and tells him how good Bucky is for him.

They fight together even better now, in sync in a way that Bucky hasn’t felt since he worked with the Howling Commandos, and when they finish a skirmish they turn to each other, flushed and grinning, flying high on adrenaline and oxytocin and arousal. They kiss savagely, mouths wet and open, and they don’t care who hears them pant and groan over the comms.

“God, you were so fucking hot—”

“Sam, yes, god, please—”

Bucky and Sam have died and come back to life already this year and somehow they’re still bringing each other back to life. Bucky swaggers through SHIELD headquarters with champagne flowing through his veins, bright and bubbly, and Fury yells at them twice for passing dirty notes to each other during briefings. They’re obnoxious about it, obvious and messy and shameless, and Bucky’s pretty sure that Maria Hill is going to resign in protest if she has to work surveillance for even one more of their ops.

Somehow they’re generating even more complaints to HR than before.

***

Dr. Carson has finally managed to find them a room with a window for their counseling sessions. They’re on the fifth floor, and there’s not much of a view—just the brick wall of the building next to them—but sunlight streams in through the sheer curtains and highlights the cut ridges of Sam’s frankly incredible cheekbones. God, Sam’s so fucking handsome.

Bucky and Sam are grinning broadly, but Dr. Carson looks stressed out and irritated today, even though they just started the appointment. Her hair is stringy and a little greasy at the roots, and Bucky wonders if Dr. Carson knows about dry shampoo. He isn’t sure how to ask, or if it would be rude to offer her a few sprays from the travel bottle he keeps in one of the pockets of his tactical pants? She’s still wearing a nice silk blouse, but it looks like she’s buttoned it incorrectly, and the tail is hanging out of the top of her slacks.

Are those even slacks? They kind of look like yoga pants.

Privately, Bucky thinks that an outsider might be hard pressed to figure out which of them was supposed to be the mental patient here. Are Bucky and Sam actually driving this woman insane?

“So you’re sleeping together.” Dr. Carson’s tone is flat and dismayed. “You know this is against SHIELD employee regulations, don’t you?”

She taps her pen against their folders in agitation, and Bucky wonders if those folders are their actual permanent records. Does Bucky’s folder still have all of the notes from Sister Mary Angela about his “distracting” and “unnaturally close” relationship with Steve? God, Sister Mary Angela hated Steve.

Sam waves a careless hand and props his ankle up on his other knee. “We’re independent contractors, and Steve and Natasha made sure that our contracts didn’t include any kind of anti-fraternization policies. They were extremely thorough about it.”

Dr. Carson sighs heavily, and it looks like she’s doing literally everything in her power not to roll her eyes. Instead, she tips her head back and looks at the ceiling, probably hoping to roll her eyes where Bucky and Sam can’t see them. “Nevertheless, the two of you are still required to be discreet and professional when you’re at work. We’ve received complaints from several of your coworkers about your behavior in the last week. According to Carl, you’ve been bringing, quote, unwanted and uncomfortable sexual energy to the workplace.”

Bucky scoffs. He knows how to handle this sort of situation. “Listen, I didn’t lose my life fighting Nazis so that a little homoerotic banter and ass grabbing would get me in trouble at work. And anyway, this is how Captain America and I behaved at work back when we were fighting fascism and defending the free world—in the 1940s, even!—so I can’t imagine that somehow you’re just not allowed to give each other friendly hand jobs in closets in 2023. If anything, I should be able to give Sam a friendly hand job outside of a closet. Those are exactly the kinds of freedoms I fought and died for.”

Sam nods in support and says, “That’s a great point, Buck,” and Bucky feels warmth curling in his belly before he realizes, fuck, Sam’s doing it again, and right in front of Dr. Carson too. Jesus, Sam is so good at therapy. “And it sounds like Carl might be just a tad bit homophobic. Maybe we should be complaining to HR about him. You know, I didn’t serve during the long years of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell just to hear—”

“Carl is happily married to his male partner of thirty-seven years,” Dr. Carson states, clenching her jaw. Bucky has literally fought people to the death who look less bothered by his general existence. “Also, you didn’t actually die fighting Nazis, Agent Barnes.”

“It was a metaphorical death,” Bucky defends, because this is important to him. “The old Bucky Barnes died in that ravine. We went over it all in my therapy in Wakanda, the most scientifically advanced country in the world. What even are your credentials and where are your goats?”

“I have a Bachelor’s degree in psychology from Harvard and doctorates in clinical psychology and neuroscience from Oxford. I was a Rhodes scholar, I’ve received a MacArthur Fellowship for my work in PTSD and polytrauma in returning veterans, and I literally wrote the textbook for most Introduction to Psychology courses.”

Bucky waves his dismissive hand at this. “Yeah, well, Sam did eighty hours of coursework and an eighty hour practicum to become a certified peer counselor. Plus he has experiential knowledge, which is more important than book learning. Also, Sam isn’t HYDRA. Are you HYDRA?”

The wood in Dr. Carson’s pencil cracks a bit under her hand. “I’m not HYDRA.”

“But, like, would Nick Fury know if you were HYDRA?” Bucky presses.

“That’s an excellent point, baby, you’re killing it in therapy today.” Sam pats Bucky on the thigh and then leaves his hand there, bare inches away from Bucky’s cock, and Bucky bites the inside of his cheek to keep from moving his hips or making any noises. “Nick Fury would definitely not know if Dr. Carson were HYDRA, his Nazi-finding track record is, like, dismal at best. I vote that we suspend therapy until there’s been an independent investigation into whether or not Dr. Carson is HYDRA.”

“You can’t suspend therapy,” Dr. Carson says, her expression pinched. “These counseling sessions are mandatory.”

“Look, we’ll keep doing the love languages thing as a show of good faith, and once the investigation’s concluded we’ll come back so you can decide which one of us is winning at therapy,” Bucky says. “In the meantime just, like, prepare to have all of your secrets uncovered and all of your loved ones and ex-boyfriends questioned extensively about your most private and intimate memories.”

Dr. Carson covers her face with her hands. Is she trying to muffle a scream?

“For the last time, no one wins at therapy,” she grits out.

“I mean, I think I’m pretty obviously winning,” Sam says. Bucky tips his head in reluctant agreement. “Anyway, we’ll talk to Natasha and Steve about the HYDRA thing since they actually know how to find Nazis. If Steve and Nat clear you, then Bucky and I will agree to let you judge which one of us is winning the love languages competition. In the meantime, it would be nice if you could get some therapy pets for Bucky. He likes animals. Goats might be a bit unreasonable for downtown D.C., but I’m sure you could rustle up some cats or something, right?”

Bucky hums. “I like dogs better.’

“All right, cool. Dr. C, get us some dogs.” Sam raps two knuckles against the desk. “Bucky and I are going to go to the gym to work out a bit. Bucky’s shoulders are looking really good lately.”

“Sam!” Bucky hisses, squirming a bit in his seat. “Not in front of Dr. Carson!”

“Sorry, baby,” Sam says, holding out a hand to pull Bucky up out of his chair. “See you next week, Dr. C!”

***

It hasn’t exactly escaped Bucky’s notice that Natasha has been avoiding him ever since Bucky and Sam started their love languages competition, so when Bucky sees Steve walking alone down the hallway toward his office, he reaches out from the broom closet where he’s hiding and yanks Steve inside.

“Is Natasha helping Sam win the love languages competition?” Bucky hisses.

There’s no real reason that they need to have this conversation in a broom closet instead of Steve’s office, but Bucky’s feeling nostalgic today, and Steve doesn’t seem at all bothered to suddenly find himself in a broom closet with Bucky.

“I mean, probably?” Steve says with a shrug. “It seems only fair, since I’m helping you. Also her dirty talk has really leveled up lately, and that’s probably not a coincidence. Why, what’s Sam doing?”

“He’s, like, constantly flirting with me. And the touching! God, Steve, I’m horny all the time now. And you wouldn’t believe the things he says to me in bed! Do you know how hard it is to concentrate on all the sex routines you and I’ve choreographed when Sam’s telling me how pretty I look with his cock in my mouth?”

“Natasha is definitely helping him then—she says that to me all the time when she’s using her strap on,” Steve says, chewing his lip thoughtfully. “Are you sure you can’t keep it together enough to service him without getting distracted by his words of affirmation?”

“Yes,” Bucky says, his cheeks growing hot. “You have no idea, Steve, like Sam just gets so filthy. I know my brain’s been fried like an egg and I don’t actually remember a lot about sex, but I don’t think people talked like this in the ‘40s, right?”

“I mean, you and I shared a bedroom in an apartment with paper thin walls and then spent a few years in a warzone. There’s not much opportunity for dirty talk when you’re just doing your best to get off without waking anybody up,” Steve says. “But that does give me an idea. Sam’s secondary love language is quality time, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“So date him! You may not have the sexual repertoire of someone who’s watched hundreds of hours of modern porn or even someone who remembers much about having sex before like three weeks ago, but you do know how to pull off a good old-fashioned wooing.”

Bucky’s forehead wrinkles. “Do I, though? Do I still know how to pull off a good old-fashioned wooing?”

“I believe in you, pal.” Steve claps him on the shoulder and then looks around the broom closet thoughtfully, taking in the dirty mop and the shelves of cleaning supplies and filthy rags. “You’re honestly not even doing a bad job of wooing me right now. Want to trade hand jobs for old time’s sake?”

Bucky shoots Steve a withering look. “I’m not wooing you right now, Steve, you’re just easy. Go find Natasha if you’re horny.”

Steve shrugs. “Eh, it was worth a shot.”

***

Two months later, once Steve and Natasha have completed Dr. Carson’s background check and confirmed that she isn’t HYDRA, Sam and Bucky return to therapy. Even though Dr. Carson hasn’t seen them in months, she looks pinched and irritated, and the deep wrinkles in her forehead and the sudden explosion of gray in her hair make her look as though she’s aged five years since she started giving them therapy.

Bucky frowns and squints in suspicion. “We haven’t gotten Blipped again, have we?”

“What?”

“You just look—” Bucky gestures toward her hair and the bags under her eyes.

Dr. Carson’s expression shifts from exhausted indifference to polite fury, and Bucky’s just about to apologize when Sam gestures toward the floor under the window and says, “Hey, look at that! It’s about time you got Bucky a therapy puppy, you know that his doctors in Wakanda strongly encouraged it.”

When Bucky follows the line of Sam’s arm, he sees the cutest puppy in the world sitting in a fuzzy little dog bed with pictures of bones on it. Bucky gasps in delight. “He’s so cute, Sam, look at his little face!”

The puppy’s face is perfect, with big brown eyes and a short little snout with a tiny black nose. When he wags his tail, his little butt wiggles and Bucky wants to die about it. He loves this puppy so much.

“I’m naming him Paddington after my favorite movie,” Bucky declares.

“I love it,” Sam says immediately, pulling out his phone. “Put him in your lap so I can get some pictures for Steve and Natasha. They’re going to be so jealous when they find out that we got to have a dog in our therapy.”

Sam and Bucky spend the next ten minutes playing with Paddington and taking photos of the two of them with their adorable new therapy dog while Dr. Carson rubs her forehead like she just fucking knew this puppy would be a distraction.

“I think we should get started,” Dr. Carson interrupts, glancing pointedly at her watch.

“Yes, perfect!” Bucky pulls a small notebook out of his back pocket. “OK, so let me catch you up on everything we’ve done to each other since our last meeting, and I especially want your input on the scoring system that Sam and I have developed—”

Bucky and Sam spend the next half hour recounting their every interaction over the past couple of months in explicit, pornographic detail while Dr. Carson repeatedly clenches and unclenches her fists. When they spend ten full minutes alone on the rim job Bucky gave Sam last Saturday, Dr. Carson’s eyes go distant and glassy like a shell shocked veteran of the Great War or something. Bucky has literally seen torture victims make less of an effort to dissociate from their surroundings than Dr. Carson right now.

Honestly, who would have expected a therapist with thirty years’ experience to be so faint of heart? It’s absolutely critical to Bucky and Sam’s scoring system to determine whether Sam let out a “choked moan” or a “strangled gasp” while Bucky ate him out, and Bucky doesn’t appreciate Dr. Carson’s frankly lackluster participation when they stage a reenactment of events to try and settle the matter. She doesn’t even seem very decisive when she finally renders her judgment, like maybe she just doesn’t care what kind of sound Sam made, even though it was the most erotic noise Bucky’s ever heard in a hundred years.

When Sam concludes his argument for why words of affirmation during sex should count for more points than praise at work, Dr. Carson sighs heavily, looks off into the distance for exactly ten seconds, and then states, “I think we should discuss how you two can erect boundaries between your work relationship and your sexual relationship.”

Sam raises a skeptical eyebrow at Dr. Carson’s audacity. “Do you really feel like you’re qualified to counsel us on that particular issue?”

Dr. Carson’s jaw clenches. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, after everything that went down between you and Dr. Fitzgerald back in Philadelphia, I hardly think—”

Dr. Carson’s face whitens like curdled milk. “How did you find out about that?”

“Remember Natasha’s background check? Anyway, I’m just saying that it’s a tad bit hypocritical of you to suggest that Bucky and I shouldn’t be fucking during work hours, I mean, Bucky isn’t even married—”

Dr. Carson bites her lip so ferociously that she draws blood. “Bucky may not be married, but he is technically your subordinate, and that means there’s an uneven power dynamic to consider here—”

Sam smirks like he’s fucking Benjamin Matlock and he knows he’s just one pointed question away from making the guilty party break down and confess right there on the witness stand. (Bucky makes a mental note to ask Sam later why he and Natasha always snicker when Bucky and Steve get together to play cribbage and watch Matlock on Sunday afternoons.) “You mean like the uneven power dynamic at play between you and that doctoral student whose dissertation committee you chaired at UPenn?”

Dr. Carson gasps, and her face turns as red and furious as Sister Mary Angela’s that time she caught Steve’s skinny arms nailing a copy of Martin Luther’s Ninety-five Theses to the heavy wooden door of St. Charles Borromeo.

Bucky’s mind wanders a bit at that memory. God, Steve Rogers really was such a bad influence—maybe Sister Mary Angela was right about their distracting and unnaturally close relationship. Because of course Bucky couldn’t leave that stubborn asshole to face Sister Mary Angela’s wrath alone, so Bucky had ended up confessing to abusing his powers as editor of the student newspaper to let Steve use the school’s small printing press. Bucky emerged from the experience with an ass that burned for a week and a few uncomfortable new kinks.

Now, Bucky looks speculatively over at Sam’s strong hands and shifts in his chair.

“I just remembered, Sam and I have something really important to do,” Bucky announces. “So we’ll see you next week, right? OK, cool. C’mon, Paddington!”

Bucky grabs Paddington’s cute little dog bed and Paddington hops down from Sam’s lap to follow them out of the office, his tail wagging happily as he trots along beside them. God, Paddington is so fucking cute, Bucky cannot believe what a great dog he is.

Dr. Carson calls out after them through gritted teeth. “You’re not supposed to take the therapy dog with you!”

“Sorry, what?” Sam shouts back, cupping his hand around his ear. “I can’t hear you!”

“Bucky, I know you have super hearing!”.

“Sorry, I’m a hundred and six years old and I left my ear trumpet at home!” Bucky raises his hands in an exaggerated shrug to convey the hopelessness of trying to communicate at this great distance of about forty feet.

“God, I need a fucking vacation forever,” Dr. Carson mutters.

***

Later, after Bucky and Sam collapse against Sam’s sheets in sweaty exhaustion, Bucky mentally tallies their points and comes to the frustrating conclusion that Sam is still absolutely wiping the floor with him in this love languages competition. God, how is Sam so good at everything? He’s so fucking handsome and charming and athletic and just, like, absolute dynamite in the sack—

God, no wonder Bucky’s losing. There’s no way he can win this competition with his dick alone. Time to channel Tommy Dorsey and play it from the heart.

“Hey, Sam,” Bucky murmurs, leaning up to nuzzle his nose against Sam’s jaw. “Let me cook you dinner tonight, doll. Wanna treat you right.”

“‘M not your doll,” Sam grumbles. “But yeah, OK.”

Bucky kisses Sam’s shoulder and plots.

Three hours later, Bucky and Steve survey Bucky’s dining room with the smug satisfaction of Scarlett O’Hara stealing her sister’s fiancé to get her greedy hands on his general store and sawmill.

“I think we nailed it, pal,” Steve boasts. “This looks just like your date night mood board.”

“I mean, I feel like half the credit should go to Pinterest user donkeydick2004—who would’ve guessed that he’d have such a sensitive soul.”

Bucky’s dining room table is covered with rose petals sprinkled over Bucky’s mother’s best lace tablecloth, liberated from the archives of the Smithsonian along with the rest of the contents of Steve and Bucky’s old Brooklyn Heights apartment. Two lit candles rise proudly from the gleaming silver of Sarah Rogers’s candleholders—the only wedding gift she’d managed to save from the pawnbroker during those lean years of Steve’s childhood—and the Victrola crackles with the smooth tenor of Enrico Caruso singing an aria so romantic it once brought a tear to the clear, flinty eye of Bucky’s father. Bucky’s grateful now that the Barneses were a Victor Talking Machine Company family—those Edison wax cylinders decayed faster than American democracy after the invention of Facebook.

The first time Bucky saw the familiar red logo of that Caruso record again—faithful Nipper the dog, his head tipped toward the horn of a gramophone playing the sound of his dead master’s voice—Bucky drove straight out into the desert and screamed until he was hoarse.

And now tonight Bucky’s using that very record to romance the shit out of Sam Wilson, so Nick Fury and Dr. Carson can fuck off with their so-called “therapy” because Bucky Barnes is doing great.

Steve clears his throat and gives Bucky a meaningful look. “You know, if this is all just some competition between you and Sam, you didn’t have to drive out to Maryland to dig all of our most personal and intimate memories out of storage for this dinner.”

Flustered, Bucky replies, “You have no idea what a canny opponent Sam is! Every time that man talks, my heart flutters and my stomach’s all full of butterflies. Besides,” Bucky says, “my grandfather paid fifty extra dollars to get the Circassian walnut veneer put on that old Victrola—he would haunt me if I didn’t ever use it, Steve.”

“You know your Aunt Margaret spit on her own father’s grave when your grandfather left that Victrola to your dad instead of her?”

Bucky laughs. “Is that why they had that big falling out? I couldn’t remember.”

“Peggy said that your Aunt Margaret wrote Howard Stark a letter every month until the day she died demanding the return of that Victrola.”

“Well, I hope that greedy old hag is looking down at me right now,” Bucky says, shaking his head in disbelief. “She deserves to watch me seduce my gay lover with that Victrola, it serves her right. You know she called you a fairy once?”

Steve gestures toward the intimate tableau featuring all of Bucky’s most precious memories and dryly states, “Well, as long as you’re clear on spite as your motivation for all of this.”

Bucky bites his lip as a sudden fear strikes him. “Do you think Sam’s going to like the chicken? People still roast chicken, right? It’s not just, like, sushi and gluten free vegan desserts nowadays?”

Steve opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by a knock at the door. Paddington dives off the sofa like he’s responding to an Avengers Assemble alarm—which, oh my god, could Paddington wear a little outfit and come with the Avengers on ops? Bucky needs to look into this immediately—and dances around in elation when Bucky opens the door to reveal Sam, who is looking fine as hell in a lavender button-down and navy trousers.

And Bucky’s heart is—honestly not reacting much differently than Paddington right now.

“Aw, hi, baby!” Sam says, leaning down to pet Paddington and scratch him behind the ears. When Sam’s finished giving Paddington the attention he so richly deserves, Bucky’s pulled in for a long, heartbreakingly tender kiss that sends a shiver of want down the entire length of his spine. Sam and Steve exchange their own greetings while Bucky surreptitiously reaches up to rub at the goosebumps prickling at the sensitive skin at the back of his neck.

“Steve, you’re going to be OK watching Paddington tonight, right?” Bucky’s voice is threaded with the justifiable suspicion of someone who has known Steve Rogers for a lifetime.

Steve’s mouth drops open in offense. “Yes! Bucky, I know how to watch a dog.”

Bucky lifts Paddington’s tiny body and curls his arms protectively around him. “OK, well, Paddington is the most important thing in the world to me, and you are literally the least responsible person I know, so.”

“What? Bucky, I’m—that’s—I’m Captain America. I’m famously responsible.”

“Sam is Captain America, Steve. I feel like you’re not moving on. Also my brain might be a giant lump of small curd cottage cheese now, but I still remember that you’re a reckless idiot.”

Sam gives Steve a sharp look of his own and says, “Steve, Paddington is very important to Bucky’s therapy and also to our therapy as a couple—” Sam pauses, then adds, “of coworkers. So make sure you give him his favorite treats, but don’t give him too many treats, and make sure he doesn’t pull the squeaker out of his stuffed alligator—”

Bucky and Sam lead Steve to the door while Sam continues to debrief Steve on all of Paddington’s most important feelings and preferences. “You should really be writing all of this down, Steve,” Sam says with a frown.

Steve sighs. “I have an eidetic memory.”

“All right, well, if we pick him up in the morning and he has an upset tummy, I will literally kill you, and Sam—the trustworthy Captain America—will be my alibi,” Bucky says.

Sam nods in solemn agreement.

Bucky and Sam part from Paddington with identical expressions of worry as Steve walks him down the hall to his apartment.

As soon as Steve’s door closes, Bucky is all over Sam, pressing him against the wall and skimming his lips over the warm skin of Sam’s neck. God, Sam smells incredible, like tobacco and vanilla and oiled leather, and somehow the masculine scent of him travels down Bucky’s windpipe and directly to his cock.

“Hi,” Bucky breathes.

“Hey, baby,” Sam murmurs, tipping his head back to let Bucky’s lips trail along his throat to his jawline. Bucky’s just getting really into it, his hips pressing insistently against Sam’s, when the timer for the oven goes off.

Over dinner, Bucky and Sam talk and laugh about their coworkers as the candlelight does frankly amazing things for Sam’s bone structure. Bucky squirms in his chair and tries to will away the flush he can feel spreading up his neck when Sam compliments Bucky on the romantic lighting and the beautiful place settings. Fuck, he’s supposed to be giving Sam quality time here, and instead Sam’s using that quality time to offer Bucky more words of affirmation. Bucky’s not really ready to concede this battle just yet, but he’s definitely starting to craft a defeat narrative for himself about the lack of shame in being beaten by the best.

And Sam is definitely the best.

“That chicken was incredible.” Sam pats his stomach and groans in satisfaction. “You know that’s just how my mama always makes it?”

Bucky wonders if it would be weird to divulge that he actually broke into Sam’s mother’s house to sneak a look at her recipe cards. That’s normal intelligence gathering, right? Bucky made sure Sam’s mom was out of the house when he entered, and afterward he sent a team of security specialists to give her a better alarm system setup—”compliments of SHIELD, ma’am”—when he realized that her house was way too easy to break into. And Bucky’s dad always said to leave things better than you found them, so if anything Sam’s mom is probably safer now than she was before the world’s most legendary assassin crept into her house to rifle through her personal belongings.

He feels like Natasha would agree with him but he also feels like Natasha is probably just as batshit insane as Bucky and Steve are. Bucky has literally no normal friends and he should probably start spending more time with Sharon Carter.

After dinner, Sam looks relaxed and sated, his eyes warm and heavy-lidded as he watches Bucky shiver under his praise. “You know you have a praise kink, right?”

“Yes, Sam,” Bucky says, and tries to refrain from rolling his eyes. “Steve and I did a ton of research and watched, like, hours of porn together. We figured it out.”

“You and Steve have some serious boundary issues.” Sam shakes his head and grins in amusement. “But seriously, though, you’re not just hooking up with me because you imprinted on me after I made your dick hard or something, right? I mean, I remember the first time I got a boner after being deployed. I cried like a baby, so I get it, man, but—”

“Actually, I sort of wanted to talk to you about that,” Bucky says, his stomach swimming with nerves. This is the moment he’s been anticipating and dreading since he planned this whole date night op. “I was thinking—how would you feel about taking this competition to the next level?”

Sam’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I just think we’d both have more time and energy to devote to this competition if we were competing, you know, exclusively.”

“Ah.” Sam’s expression clears and a slow smile spreads across his handsome face. “You want to be boyfriends.”

“I want to be boyfriends,” Bucky confirms with a decisive nod.

He may be losing this love language competition by about a hundred and fifty points, but Bucky still has some fight in him yet. And between work and sex and co-ownership of Paddington, Bucky’s already spending so much time with Sam that there’s no real way to increase the amount of time in “quality time”—but he can improve the quality of that time. If Bucky and Sam are boyfriends, Bucky figures, all that quality time should automatically count for more points than the quality time they spend together as coworkers with confusing feelings for each other, right?

Bucky’s lungs burn as he holds his breath held in anticipation of Sam’s response.

“Yeah, let’s be boyfriends,” Sam says, with a grin tugging at his lips.

Bucky’s heart soars in victory.

***

Bucky and Sam have decided not to bring Paddington with them to any future therapy appointments just in case Dr. Carson tries to take him away like Cruella de Vil.

This week, however, Dr. Carson shows up their session with a whole new vibe. Instead of striding imperiously into her office in her usual stern fashion, Dr. Carson blows in fifteen minutes late with the casual energy of a high school senior during the last week of school. She walks over to her desk, flip-flops slapping against her feet, and reclines back in her chair to prop her feet up onto the polished surface of her solid oak desk. She’s dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie like a suburban mom in an airport waiting to fly down to Miami for a Caribbean cruise.

“So how’s it going this week, boys?” Dr. Carson asks, slurping from the straw of her Big Gulp soda.

“Um, great.” Sam eyes her cautiously. “Bucky and I are boyfriends now.”

“No shit!” Dr. Carson says, and tilts her head back to squint down at them. “Huh. What do you know about that.” Then she shrugs. “Tell me how it happened.”

So Bucky and Sam tell her every detail of the last week, including the way they tenderly made love after Sam agreed to be Bucky’s boyfriend. Dr. Carson is clear-eyed and engaged the entire time, even during the five full minutes Sam devotes to the ripple of Bucky’s abdominal muscles as he strains toward orgasm, and Bucky’s just starting to think that maybe they can get some real therapy out of Dr. Carson when she says—

“So Fury’s transferring me to Hawaii.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open. “What?”

“Yup.” Dr. Carson burrows deeper into her chair and lets out a relaxed sigh before taking another loud sip of her soda. “This is our last session!”

“So do we have a new therapist after this, or?” Sam waves his hand uncertainly.

“Nah, I’m just gonna go ahead and tell Fury that you guys are doing great. You’ve officially graduated therapy.”

Bucky chokes on air. “Excuse me, what? We graduated therapy?”

“Sure, why not?” Dr. Carson says with a lazy shrug. “Despite literally all of my expectations to the contrary, it seems like you guys have actually formed a stable partnership. Just, you know, maybe stop fucking so much at work.”

Bucky scoffs. “Listen, I didn’t give my life fighting Nazis in World War II—” he begins.

***

After Bucky and Sam’s appointment with Dr. Carson, Sam receives a text asking him to meet Fury in his executive suite.

Bucky heads back to his own office—his real one, buried deep within the bowels of SHIELD in a secret interrogation room someone bricked up the entrance to and then forgot about years ago. Bucky discovered it while crawling through the air ducts to place surveillance equipment in the offices of Nick Fury and the major SHIELD department heads. Once Bucky disposed of the mummified body he found inside—which, wow, super gross—it made the perfect private office space and server room.

Bucky opens his surveillance software just in time to hear Fury tell Sam that Bucky broke his best therapist.

“Dr. Carson is a highly trained professional at the top of her field,” Fury says, his voice stern. “I had to offer her a fifty percent raise to lure her away from private practice, and now I’m sending her away from D.C., where all of my elite agents reside, to Honolulu, which is where I send all the useless nepotism agents I’m forced to hire by the World Security Council. I don’t know what Barnes did to that woman but he just cost me a very experienced and expensive mental health professional.”

“And what makes you think Agent Barnes is at fault?”

“Dr. Carson is obviously not at liberty to divulge any specifics about what was said during your therapy sessions, but she did note that your bickering was ‘maddening’ and that she, quote, hadn’t even realized it was possible to overshare during therapy. She also indicated that Barnes instigated an invasive and traumatizing background check that caused her a great deal of personal distress.’”

“Given Agent Barnes’s history with SHIELD, I think it’s perfectly understandable that he may have sought reassurance that Dr. Carson wasn’t an agent of HYDRA.” Sam’s voice is bland and pleasant. “It’s hardly Agent Barnes’s fault that Dr. Carson turned out to have a surprisingly messy personal life.”

“Be that as it may, I’m suspending Barnes from active duty until he passes a second psych eval from another therapist.”

“With all due respect, sir, Agent Barnes has been nothing but cooperative in this retaliatory investigation into his mental state. He’s a skilled and creative fighter, a selfless and generous partner, and a brilliant tactician. He deserves to be treated with the same respect as any other SHIELD agent who hasn’t shot you.”

Jesus Christ, is Sam offering Bucky words of affirmation even when he’s not there to hear them? What kind of love language master is Sam? God, how can Bucky possibly compete with this?

Fury’s voice is strangled. “Retaliatory?”

“Yes,” Sam says firmly. “As far as I’m aware, Agent Barnes has cleared all mandatory psychological evaluations and then some. If you have a problem with his—or my—behavior in the workplace, I suggest you carefully review our employment contracts and initiate the appropriate disciplinary proceedings. In the meantime, I will be continuing with Agent Barnes as my partner. There will be no suspension.”

The sound of Fury’s office door slamming shut is unexpectedly erotic.

By the time Sam slides through the secret passageway into Bucky’s office, Sam looks calm and collected, like he hasn’t just returned from facing down a man with the power and authority to send him to one of a half-dozen black sites so secret they probably exist on other planets.

“So how’d the meeting go?” Bucky asks, suppressing a grin.

“Oh, it was fine,” Sam says with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “We don’t have to do therapy anymore.”

Bucky lets his smile spread across his face. “Oh, yeah? No more retaliatory investigations into my mental state?”

When Sam realizes how Bucky must have overheard that remark, his eyes widen in delight. “I’m sorry, did you bug Fury’s office? Bucky Barnes, you crazy asshole, I love you so fucking much.”

Bucky freezes. Sam loves him? Adrenaline and exhilaration race through Bucky’s veins, spreading through his entire circulatory system until he feels like he’s going to buzz right out of his skin. For the second time in Bucky’s life, he’s been flung straight over the side of a cliff, except this time Sam has wings to catch him. God, this is why they call it falling, isn’t it?

Bucky is feeling so fucking affirmed right now. He has never felt so affirmed in his entire life.

And Bucky’s lost that stupid competition now, hasn’t he. There’s no way Bucky can compete with that declaration, no way he can pull off a victory after Sam just earned himself, like, fifty million points—but when Bucky looks at Sam’s gap-toothed grin, he thinks maybe, just maybe, he’s secretly won after all.

And he does have one last, best card to play.

“Hey, Sam,” Bucky says, with a wide grin, “how do you feel about moving in together?”

#marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #sam wilson #bucky barnes x sam wilson #winter falcon #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #steve rogers x natasha romanoff #old man steve has no power here #fuck old man steve #natasha romanoff lives #idiots in love

[kchuarts]

Instinct

A/N: *rubs my filthy hands together* This is a VERY self indulgent fic of mine with one of my various kinks... Also takes place during a weird timeline in IW and Loki has been informally accepted as an Avenger. 

Summary: Astrid KNOWS that now is not the time to bring up the idea of having a child. She also knows how Loki feels about it; he does not want children. With everything going on in the world, why was she even thinking about this?

Thanos is still looming over the Avengers at an uncomfortably close distance, and strange creatures have began to invade earth. Unfortunately, these creatures happen to be from Jotunheim...

Warnings: 🔞🔞🔞 VERY SPICY SMUT, breeding, dubious consent, impregnation, etc...🔞🔞🔞 DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18!!!🔞🔞🔞

The very first time Astrid had ever brought up the idea of having children in the future with Loki, was also the last time. In fact, the prince seemed rather upset that she would even bring up such a topic. He had given her a very firm “No.” but never gave any clear validation why he was so against the suggestion. Astrid decided it would be wise not to bring it up again despite her desire to give him a family. His cool opinion of her devotion made her heart ache. She thought that maybe he would be at least open to the idea, but his habit of closing off had won that argument. 

It wasn’t that Loki did not want children, it was more of his inner turmoil and who he was. After his haunting fall from the Bifrost, the prince never even thought he would be breathing today. Since his brainwashing, he had concluded that fatherhood would never be within his prospect. This final result was all thanks to the lack of fatherly love from Odin, having learned the truth of his origins, having been unwillingly controlled, what he could do, and now? What now? There was no research of a mortal and Jotun ever creating life together and scarce information of an Asgardian and Jotun doing the same. Loki would not risk his wife’s endurance for something that could quite possibly kill her. He finally found something beautiful through his hardships and he was not willing to let her go. As much as it hurt him to see Astrid suffer in silence about it, he would rather be safe than sorry... 

“It has come to my attention that a seam has torn through our world by something to let these massive beasts in and destroy everything in sight.” Fury stated, glancing to Thor and Loki who were standing to the left of the round meeting table. “It is also to my understanding that you have dealt with these things before, and that your brother is of their particular home planet.” He waited for a reply from the Gods as everyone else did. 

“They are frost beasts and they do indeed come from Jotunheim.” Loki spoke up, nodding toward the holograph of one of these humongous creatures. 

Steve walked forth, examining the 3D image and scratching his beard at it. “So what you’re saying, if I am not mistaken, is that we could have another convergence on hand if these things are coming in? I’m no expert so please excuse my misinformation if I am wrong.” His blue eyes flicked to the God of Mischief. To everyone’s slight relief, both Loki and Thor shook their heads no. “We have yet another 5,000 years before the next convergence occurs, so we can consider ourselves lucky in that regard.” Thor tapped the table toward the frost beast, “What we have here is something else entirely and if my intuition is correct, I believe Thanos is behind this.” The God of Thunder pulled his arm back, mirroring the Captains pose and scratching his own beard. Director Fury nodded to Thor, “So it is a distraction of sorts for what he truly has planned? Laufeyson. You should know the answer to this, given you were under his control.” 

Loki nodded, “This is one of his tactics. His army is far larger than a few frost beasts, I have seen it first hand. Well, a glimpse of it anyways. I am hypothesizing he has torn the seam to get me alone. He still is after my head and wishes death upon me.” His thumb gently plays with the smooth onyx band around his ring finger as a means to calm himself; to think of going home to his wife. “Understandable. We also wanted you dead for a period of time.” Nick spoke nonchalant, taking no mind in the slight irk in Loki. “Gentlemen, please.” Steve frowned, holding his hands out and waving down before turning to the dark haired prince, “I’ve got an idea but it will be very dangerous. It does involve closing that seam so we can take care of this and get back to taking Thanos down... I’m gonna need you to go home, Loki.” 

Scoffing, the Trickster gave an amused smile to the captain “I would not exactly call it ‘home’ as you so plainly put it, but it does appear that I haven’t a choice here.” He sighed and turned on his heel, “Very well, please prepare a ship for me. If you are sending reinforcements along, I suggest you see Stark first for cold resistant armor. I do not require it, but mortals will-” There was a sudden crackling noise as Tony’s voice broke through the communicator on the table. “Sorry to interrupt ladies, but this isn’t the time for an ice cream social. We’ve got frosty the snowman on steroids over here destroying shit left and right!”  Fury pressed a button, “Stark. Where is your position and company?” 

“Central- Really!? Come on!! Never mind where we are! Just track us down and get help!!” Tony’s voice cut out as his communicator lost connection. 

Almost immediately, Thor turned to Loki and grinned widely to which the latter tried to ignore what was just said. 

“Let’s do get help.” 

“No-” 

All four of the men present suddenly grabbed onto anything as the room shook violently. The shaking was followed by a terrifying screech, causing everyone except Loki to cover their ears. “What the hell was that!?” Steve looked up to see the Trickster frozen in place as though he had seen a ghost. “It’s near the medical wing-” Loki choked out, taking off in a sprint as fast as he could. 

--------------

“Everyone form a single file line and do NOT rush out!!” Astrid walked along the line of medical workers and patients, doing her best to escort the frightened people out of danger. It was hard to do so with the violent tremors that continued to rock the building. “Astrid, I’ll take over, go check the Children’s ward and make sure there aren’t any kids left.” Doctor Cho placed a hand on the brunette woman’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. Astrid nodded, quickly making her way out of room D to the best of her ability through the crashing and now flickering power. Her heart rate picked up as she heard a high pitched, terrified squeal come from her destination. Astrid sprinted down to the ward, eyes scanning over the beds in a panic. 

The child shrieked once more as the power blacked out completely this time. “It’s ok!! Stay where you are and I’ll come get you, sweetie!!” Astrid pulled her phone out quickly turning on flashlight and seeing a little girl; who was no older than 5, huddled in the corner and shaking. The head nurse head to the girl with light feet, scooping her up and giving the poor child a tight squeeze. “It’s gonna be ok. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you out of here.” She cooed to the girl, taking her small hand and holding it as she had reached for it out of comfort. Swiftly, Astrid began to make progress exiting the room with what little light her phone provided her. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” She cautiously stepped over some new rubble that had fallen from the ceiling while she was in the ward. “L-Lorraine.” the girl sniffled, continuing to hold Astrid’s hand and cling tightly to the woman. 

Astrid smiled at the child despite being in complete darkness. “What a pretty name you have! I am so glad to have rescued you, Lorraine. My name is Astrid.” She adjusted the girl in her arms, hearing a small noise of happiness come from her; before finally reaching a well lit area and setting Lorraine down. Kneeling to her eye level, Astrid looked over her to see if she had any injuries. “Wh-What’s gonna happen to us, M-Miss Astrid?” The woman’s attention is brought up to big, teary green eyes. Reaching up, Astrid pushes some hair from the girls face and smiles once more in an attempt to ease her fears. “We are gonna get us out of here and find your parents. I see you’ve got a Junior Agent badge on your little uniform. Do your parents work for S.H.I.E.L.D?” She tapped the button on Lorraine’s shirt. “Mhm. Daddy is a person that helps other people. My mommy is here.” Her small finger pointed to her heart, “She went up to heaven last year with nana. Daddy told me not to be sad no more ‘cuz she is not in pain. He misses her too but he takes good help of me.” she gave the nurse a small smile, swaying in place. 

“Oh Lorraine, you are such a brave little girl... My mom is here too.” Astrid smiled sadly, pointing to her heart. “What about your daddy?” Lorraine wiped her eyes, sniffling as she was lifted into the woman’s arms again. She paused, hesitant on how to answer that... “My dad...” She started saying as she continued to find an exit. “My dad..” she smiled at the little girl “Is Mr. Stark and he is the coolest dad ever. Sometimes he is kinda mean so maybe your dad is way more cool.” she chuckled softly as Lorraine’s eyes became large with wonder. “Whoooaaa!! That’s awesomeness. Are the Avengers your friends?” her fears soon dissipated from her mind as she became engrossed with Astrid’s words. “Mhm. I am! Captain America is the sweetest, Black Widow is cool, Ironman is a genius, Thor is like a big puppy!! I love them all.... Can you keep a secret for me?” She raised her brows and winked at Lorraine. The girl nodded eagerly and leaned in to hear, “I am married to one of the Avengers.” She laughed softly at Lorraine’s little gasp and blush. “Do you guys have babies?” 

Her laugh faltered a little, but she continued to smile despite the inner conflict within. “Nope, not yet. But I’ll let you know as soon as we have one.” She pushed Lorraine’s bangs from her eyes again, heart aching from wanting a child of her own. Before the little girl could say anything else, Astrid dove to the floor while shielding the child with her body. The wall had exploded and a giant claw reached in, one of it’s sharp nails cutting Astrid’s ankle. She hissed in pain, clenching her teeth and keeping Lorraine’s head to her chest to protect her as much as she could. The pain slowly became worse as it felt like her skin was frozen and becoming frostbit. She knew it wasn’t too deep but that searing chill would worry her more. Lorraine screamed as the Frost Beast roared, destroying more of the wall. The beast turned it’s attention to the two and primarily focused on Astrid as it could smell her blood. Its hulking body moved, jaws getting dangerously close to the woman. 

Before it could snap Astrid and Lorraine into it’s jaws, the Frost Beast let out a painful screech and backed away as its eyes began to bleed. Loki leapt down from the roof and into the hall where his wife was currently trapped. “Astrid!!” He called out, climbing down the fallen building to get to her. “Norns.” He muttered, seeing the nasty cut on her ankle and the chill encasing it. Holding a large hand over it, he chanted something in his native tongue and healed it completely. “I thought you were at home.” Astrid coughed from the dust, blinking to get it out of her eyes and look at Loki. “You really think I would be at home right now with all of this ruckus going on? Come now, my love. You know me better than that-” His brow scrunched as he saw movement underneath his wife. Lorraine peeked out, spotting Loki and quickly hiding her face into Astrid’s chest again. “It’s alright, honey. That’s my husband, he’s here to help us. He’s the one who defeated that big mean monster.” The brunette woman sat up, checking over the little girl. 

Loki watched in awe as Astrid so lovingly and patiently tended to the child; checking to see if she was hurt and that she was ok. He knew it was part of her job to help children, but he never did get to see how she worked with them let alone see the love in her eyes for them. The god bit his cheek, shaking his head at the “what if...?” thoughts and scooped the both of them up. “Let us get to safety before more of its friends decide to show up and give us a bigger problem.” 

---------

After reaching the rest of the group, Lorraine was returned to her father who was sobbing with reprieve that his daughter was safe. “Miss Astrid helped me, daddy! She and her husband! “ Lorraine gave the two a toothy grin. “She’s gonna let me know when they have babies.” She giggled as she saw Loki’s cheeks turn pink. His jaw was clenched, “Astrid. My love. May I have a word?” He spoke through his teeth. Astrid’s smile faded as she knew where this was headed, she turned and smiled to the girl; saying her goodbyes and thank yous before facing Loki. 

“I-I can explain-” her voice was timid from her husband’s silent irritation.

Loki shook his head, nostrils flaring a bit “You know how I feel about that.” He almost hissed while trying to keep his temper under control. “She is a little girl, Loki.” Astrid’s hands fall to her sides, becoming annoyed herself. 

“And?” 

“And? And what!? She was frightened! I had to distract her somehow!” The brunette scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. “So that distraction was to tell her every little detail about our personal life? She is a little girl, Astrid.” He mocked her words and tone from before. “What did you want me to do!? Say nothing!? Kids are curious! Also, for your information, I didn’t tell her everything as you so dramatically put it. I doubt that she will remember me in a few days.” She felt a sharp grip on her arm and gasped as Loki shoved her against the wall. He was very irate with her and would not have anymore. “That is exactly the problem, my dear. You work with children and she just so happens to be in the same place you are. I do not recall any other children you have helped affecting you like this. Children are indeed curious and will spread information like wildfire. Have you forgotten that the public still resents me? I do not know what sort of thoughts have overcome you as of late concerning me impregnating you, but they will cease. The next time this gets brought up...” He stopped, looking away from her. What was he going to say? He wasn’t going to leave her, Norns no! There was always adoption... No. His selfish thoughts of being mistreated and fearing he would be the same to an innocent babe turned him away quickly. The thought of getting her sterilized did cross his mind too... 

Astrid yanked her arm from his now loosened grip, tears burning her eyes. She knew he had a point and that she would apologize for it later, but just once did she want him to see that these thoughts were not selfish. She was doing this for him out of love and wanting him to be truly happy. “I-I’ll see you at home.” She huffed, walking away and refusing to let Loki see her tears. She would not let him win, not this time...

----------

Dinner was unusually quiet that evening, Astrid still mulling over the events of the day and barely touching her food. Loki was presumably in the same boat and decided he also lost his appetite. “I am to leave for Jotunheim tomorrow.” He broke the silence, pulling a chair out and sitting across from Astrid who glanced up at him. “Okay, be careful.” She shrugged, looking back down at her cold food before getting up and pitching it. The prince clicked his tongue and stood up abruptly, blocking his wife’s way to their bedroom. “Is that all you have to say to me?” hidden displeasure seeped in his words. Astrid sighed deeply, shoulders falling and whined, “Loki I’m tired-” She tried to walk past, just wanting to go to bed. His large hands grasped her arms, not as tightly as earlier but still firm, “Look at me.” His voice softened. The brunette sighed again before looking into the prince’s eyes. A small smile peaked across his handsome features as his hands moved up from her arms to her jaw. “I would wager that our situations have changed given that you always tell me I am the dramatic and whiney one.” He smiled as he got a grin from Astrid who tried to hide it. 

“I apologize for earlier, my love...” His thumbs caressed her cheeks as he continued to look at her. 

“I’m sorry too. I know it’s not a good subject... But m-maybe... Maybe we could discuss it in the future? Not have anything set in stone, but talk about it?” Astrid raised her brows, a hopeful glint in her large, doe like eyes. Loki leaned forth, placing a kiss on her forehead “Perhaps we will... However, there are more important things to worry about at hand. Such as keeping you safe.” He rest his cheek on top of her head and felt her arms wrap around his lithe torso. Nuzzling her face against his strong chest, Astrid took his scent in and felt any worry she had at the moment drift away. “Well then you probably won’t like my next question then.” She chuckled. 

“You want to come to Jotunheim with me, don’t you?” Loki lift his head up to look at his mortal wife again, an unamused expression on his face. Astrid grinned, nodding and giggling at his frown. In her amusement, she reached up and pushed his pouting lip in and squealed when he softly nipped at her finger. “Be careful, I may have picked up a few habits from the mongrel.” He chuckled, hiding his smirk with a kiss to her neck. His laughter rumbled once more as Astrid smacked him playfully at him. “Leave my Kovu out of this.” She scolded, still laughing softly. Loki stood up, taking her small hand in his and leading her to their bedroom. He carefully tossed her onto the large mattress before crawling up and placing his head on her chest. Astrid rolled her eyes as she knew what he was asking for and began to play with his hair. “You know, you will need a medic to come along with you. One that sorta kinda knows your biology-” She blushed at what Loki cut her off with. 

“By that you mean my cock? Oh darling, I am most certainly aware that you are an expert in that field.” He laughed as he felt yet another smack, nuzzling his head on her chest. “You know what I mean, dumb ass.” Astrid continued to play with his hair, shaking her head and smiling. “You are right though. I do take care of children... But there’s one big kid that I really need to keep watch on. Such a little trouble maker he is and not to mention he is very amorous...” She felt him shift a little to press his lower half on her leg to emphasize her words. “You would not happen to be talking about a very tall, handsome, charming, prince with a large-” He felt her stop playing with his hair and actually whined. The brunette laughed at the noise he made and his hand grabbing hers to put it back on his head. “Your chances of me saying yes to your joining decrease when you stop your petting.” 

Sighing once more, Astrid resumed her caresses until the prince lulled into a slumber. He did agree to her joining the mission, but what he was not aware of were the circumstances that would happen on the planet of his birth... 

So I guess this is gonna be a two or three parter. God damn. Why do I do this to myself?? Anyways, smut will be in the next chapter 

Taglist: @lucywrites02​

#lokistrid #loki x ofc #loki x oc #tw: breeding #tw: pregnancy #loki fanfic #fanfic #my writing #writing #loki mcu #mcu oc #i cannot wait to write the other paaaart >:3

[another-stark-sub]

Interruption - Tony Stark Imagine

Summary: You interrupt your fiance’s research, and Tony loves you for it. Natasha just had to call him in the middle of it all.

Warnings: no actual sex, more fluff than smut really, mentions of bondage, little bit of exhibitionism

Word Count: 2044

Being Tony’s fiancee came with weird moments. First off, he was the Iron Man, one of the legendary Avengers who saved the world, and sometimes the universe, on a weekly or monthly basis. So, you had your fair share of poisonous experiments locked in the house or random robots appearing. And you wish you were lying when you said one time you found a rock alien Tony forgot to tell you he was housing in the kitchen. 

However, what was before you was still weird. Not superhero weird, just weird, and very out of character.

Your fiance had been holed up in the lab for more than many hours. You let the first ten hours slide, but when sunrise was approaching, you had decided it was time for some sleep. 

And when you were at the lab’s doorway, you saw Tony talking to one of his suits. Not too weird. That was a common thing to see in the Stark household. But, what was odd was that Tony was on his knees, on one of the throw pillows that had gone missing months ago, and his hands were tied in an intricate knot.

 “Ok, now pull that,” Tony instructed.

The suit pulled. 

“Harder.”

It pulled Tony forward enough that if he moved a little bit, he’d definitely fall, face flat on the ground. Tony hummed and said, “Now, wipe the knot’s instructions from memory and try to untie it. Friday, time it, please.”

“Yes, boss.”

Baffled, you called out, “Tony?”

He turned to you and smiled. “Hey, honey. Just lemme get out of this, and I’ll be in bed soon.”

You scoffed. “You can’t kick me out of here, not when I’ve seen that.” You crossed your arms and sighed. “Uh, what is this, anyway?”

Tony opened his mouth just as Friday interrupted, “Twenty-three and a fourth.”

Tony inhaled through his teeth. “Ok, considering human error, twenty-eight, nine-ish seconds. Add it to the list, Friday. I’ll work on it later. Note that scissors might need to be used.”

You blinked a few times. “Would it be dumb of me to ask what you’re working on?”

His attention was back on you, and with a warm smile, he approached you and held your hands. “Never dumb.” He kissed your forehead and caressed your cheek before explaining, “I’ve been trying to see what knots we could use next time, but I don’t think I like any of the ones I’ve found.”

“Knots?” You laughed a little. “Like during sex, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“And what are you testing?” You didn’t really have a preference, honestly. You were just fond of bondage. Did Tony just prefer some ways to tie you up?

“Different things. Oh!” Tony let go of your hands and held them up above his head. “Friday, take a picture and record it under effects.”

“Done and filed away.”

“Thank you.”

You gasped and took his hands in yours again. Examining his wrists, yellow-ish purple bruises were already forming from the rope. “Your wrists.” You sighed. “Shouldn’t you be keeping these things safe, for superhero-ing and inventing? Not for BDSM trials?”

“Well, I need to make sure it doesn’t cause you too much pain.”

Just like that, your heart swelled. “You’re testing different knots for, well, for me?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Gotta make sure that my girl’s gonna be ok when I fuck her senseless, right?” With a swipe of his hand, the other still holding yours, a hologram popped up in front of you two. It resembled an excel spreadsheet. A name, a picture of the knot, description, time to tie, time to untie, both adjusted for human error, a picture of Tony’s various bruises from it. “See, I need to make sure I can tie it, that I can untie it if we don’t like it, see how much it hurts you or not.”

He kept babbling on, saying how it was important for him to know how it feels and to make sure you were safe, but you only heard part of it. You heard enough of it, because damn, your fiance was never more sexy in your eyes. And not only was he doing this for your safety and pleasure, but he was also doing it because your safety made him happy. 

How were you so lucky? A wonderful man, a genius, a hero was your fiance. He shared your kinks, respected the rules you two agreed upon, and went out of his way to make sure that the things that restrained you in the bedroom were things that wouldn’t hurt you when you didn’t want it to.

So, in the middle of his rant, something about the technicalities of it all, you grabbed his face and kissed him. 

Tony pulled away from you, his forehead still resting on yours. “Not that I’m objecting, but what?”

You laughed. “Cause you’re too good for me, and I think” -you bit your lip- “you deserve some sort of gift for that.” Before he could object or argue or say you were too good for him, you pulled him closer to you and kissed him, softer and sweeter, and when his hands finally held your hips, you hummed and asked, “Bedroom?” Plus, after some laborious exercise, he might sleep at a semi-appropriate hour.

“What’s wrong with here, sweetheart?” He mumbled against your lips. He kissed you again, his hands roaming down to squeeze your ass before lifting you up and wrapping your thighs around his waist. 

Just as he set you down on one of the lab tables, Friday’s voice pierced the air, “Ms. Romanoff is-”

“Put her on hold,” he told him. Tony moved to kiss your neck, and you moaned. You tangled your fingers in his hair, already drowning in the feeling of his lips on your skin and his body between your legs.

“She insists that it’s urgent.”

Tony didn’t say anything. He just smiled at you and kissed you. 

Natasha was calling him, insisting it was urgent. It must’ve been important. “Tony,” you mumbled.

“Yeah?” He went back to litter kisses on your neck and collarbone. Your button-up shirt was already being undone, and the part of you wanted to push him away so he could take that call was silenced. His lips were insistent and that nonchalant attitude was intoxicating. Plus there was a heat building in you, and if you stopped now you’d be dissatisfied. You didn’t want that. 

“Ms. Romanoff says she has Vision with her, and she will disable me if you don’t patch her through.”

Tony paused. He gazed up at you, in awe of how flushed you were just from a few of his kisses. 

You had to blink a few times, too focused on Tony’s chest moving up and down, so out of breath from kissing you and touching you. His hair was messy from your tugging and gripping, a few strands falling onto his forehead. Subtly, his hips went from lightly touching you to pressing up against you. 

Shaking your head and closing your eyes, you said, “Take the call.” You took a deep breath and reached for your shirt, but Tony stopped you. He smiled and leaned in close before pressing a kiss against your lips. “Stay.”

“Tony-”

He shook his head. “Stay.” He kissed you again and continued to unbutton your shirt until it was all undone. “Friday,” he said between kisses, “patch her through, videochat.”

Shocked, you pushed him away from you, just enough so his lips weren’t sealed against yours. “Tony, what-”

He silenced you with another kiss. His hand went to your thigh, caressing it and hooking it around his waist so he could grind his hard-on into you. 

“Tony.” Natasha’s voice came through, void of any emotion.

Tony pulled away from you. With a smile, he swiped thumb past your bottom lip, admiring how swollen they were.

You heard Natasha’s voice, you did, but with Tony in front of you with that damn smirk of his and his thumb gently grazing over your lip, you had no intention of listening to her. It was too hard to listen to her. Too drunk on him and his touch and too tired of holding yourself back, once his touch left your lips, you surged forward, aiming for a kiss.

Tony gave him, kissing you once before telling his teammate, “A bit busy here, Red.” Your fiance pressed his lips against yours and moaned loudly. Whether it was because he was that pleased by you or because he wanted to piss Natasha off, you didn’t care. You just pulled him closer, desperate to keep kissing him.

“You need to come in. We’re in need of your expertise, and Shuri’s out on another assignment.”

“Banner,” Tony mumbled against you.

“Off planet.”

As he moved to kiss your neck again, he said, “Kid’s smart.”

“On vacation.”

“Keener.” Finally, his hand came up to squeeze your tits over your bra.

“Tony!” you moaned.

Natasha rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the first time she had to witness the two of you like this. “Harley’s currently taking a three-hour exam.”

He growled. More frustrated at his fellow geniuses than you. Because, god, you looked divine. He pulled your bra down and latched his lips onto your nipple and sucked. 

You threw your head back, trying to catch your breath, and whined.

“Tony, you think I’d interrupt the two of you if it wasn’t important? Riri and Shuri and both out on missions, and Vision hasn’t been able to do it.” Natasha groaned. Her eye twitched, and she pulled a card she rarely pulled. “So, has your fiancee seen the previous versions of her ring yet?”

You squinted at the screen, half your attention still on the pleasure Tony was giving you. “What, ah, previous versions?” You smiled, dazed.

Tony groaned against your chest. “Baby,” he whined. He nipped at your nipple, and although he got a gasp from you, you still were thinking about your ring. The one he proposed with was your dream, not too gaudy, not too simple either, and crafted and designed by Tony, but there were previous versions?

You smiled at Tony and, even though you still craved his touch and the heat of his love, your daydreams of Tony working his ass off to build a perfect ring turned to reason, and reason won out. With a soft giggle, you reached out for your fiance. The poor thing had rested his chin on your chest, pouting. 

“You’ve got a job, Tone.”

“So?”

You buttoned up your shirt. 

“What? No, please,” he whined, reaching for your hands. 

You slapped him away and finished the last button. “Don’t worry.” You jumped off the lab table and kissed his cheek. “We will resume later. I need to thank you for being so good to me after all.” You nodded to the suit in the corner. “Go.”

Tony sighed. He readjusted his pants and kissed you quickly. “Love you.” He turned to the monitor. “Hate you.” And just like that, he was suiting up.

Natasha laughed. “Ah, my life’s complete. Sending you coordinates.”

“Will do.” He stopped his mask from covering his face to say to you, “Wait for me?”

“No promises.”

He smiled. “Good.” With a wink, his mask came on, the exit from the lab to the outside opened, and he was off.

You turned to the monitor and crossed your arms. “I expect to see whatever previous designs he showed you.”

“Will do.” The agent sighed. “Would it be too much to ask to have you two act professionally sometimes?”

You shrugged. “Me, not much at all.” You laughed. “It’s Tony you gotta convince.”

Natasha tilted her head. “I’m pretty sure you’d be hard to convince, too.”

You shrugged. “What can I say? I am Tony’s girl after all.” You flashed her a smile before hanging up. With a thoughtful hum, you said, “Friday, send a message to Tony for me, please. Tell him” -that familiar heat you ignored was steadily coming back- “that I’m starting without him.”

“He wouldn’t like that.”

You were practically bounding up the stairs to your bedroom, some toys you could use already in mind. “Planning on it.” 

“Ah, I see. Message sent.”

“Thank you, Friday!”

#tony stark smut #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark oneshot #tony stark #iron man #iron man smut #iron man x reader #iron man oneshot #iron man imagine #tony stark fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot #mcu x reader #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel oneshot #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel smut #mcu smut #this isnt the oneshot i wanted to get out #but its something and idk when i can post next since finals are coming up #so hopefully this can make up for it!!!

[simptasia]

Fo the ship ask meme - Charladay + 2, 4, 23, 27, 36, 38, 39

thank you!! :D

How’s their team work? Do they share well?

oh excellent teamwork, very good, dan takes instructions very well [snort]

and yeah sure why not

First impression of each other? Was it love at first sight?

well, no, not ~love~ at first sight but they defo both looked at each other for a prolonged amount of time. both finding themselves curious, strangely fascinated. one of charlotte’s thoughts was that he looks... sad and little lost

and dan’s thoughts were, less words, more !!!, oh and some “is,,, is she looking at me?” [looks around to check] “???”

How do they hug? Kiss? Tease? Flirt? Comfort?

hug: tight, sometimes they hug in manner like they think they won’t get another hug. also dan is more Hands than man, really

kiss: soft soft pet pet WHOA PASSION HELLO CHARLOTTE. dan holds char’s face with his hands when he kisses and it’s soft sweet kisses and char will often be the one to make ‘em deeper. pull dan real close to her, maybe pin him to something. depends on the mood~ like, not always, char isn’t always ravenous jhajhsa she does do gentle and romantic too,, im just. talking o///o

tease: char’s teasing is more the cheeky playful “yeah i have the power to suddenly turn you on and im gonna use it” variety. hand on the thigh. whispers in the ear. footsie. asking him to join her in the shower in a sultry voice. hm, maybe im not so great at teasing because this is outright seduction ahudsajh

as for dan, mayhaps he takes his time savouring char’s body. maybe a frustrated whine from char inspires him to draw out the touches and caresses even longer until she’s panting and Strongly Insisting he stop teasing her :)))

don’t underestimate dan, he’ll surprise ya

flirt: i imagine char is quite flirtatious given the right context and motivation. having a boyfriend who blushes so easily and prettily is pretty good motivation. she’s makes it clear what she wants, she’s a pretty proactive person. meanwhile dan is less likely to flirt, he’s more of a “i worship at the temple of you” kinda guy. full of adoring looks and of course he’s tendency towards petting

comfort: oh hey you brought this up in a recent thing u reblogged; dan is a “hey hey whoa” kinda person. gentle words, hand on the shoulder. saying things are gonna be okay. and char, she leans towards words of affirmation. support and encouragement, like hey, you can do this, i believe in you. dan and char have repeatedly comforted each other in canon so that helps

Do they have kids? Grow old together? Split up?

yes, yes, fuck no

4 kids to be exact. penny, ada, marie and isaac. bunch of creative and intellectual geniuses, the lot of ‘em (”will you two keep your hands off each other already? you keep making nerds” miles says after marie shows him her book of haikus at the age of fucking five)

grow old, well they COULD move on at any time but it’s MY indulgent OTP fantasy and i’m driving the bus, damn it. and on that note, they’d never split up, they were already torn apart by death, they are never letting go of each other. heck, when dan and char first hugged after they remember, dan held her for a reaaally long time and started crying. no, they’d never split up

What’s their greatest strength as a couple? Their weakness?

i think they compliment each other very well. they’re very different in temperament but not so different that it’s annoying. they also have so much respect for each other. and they can listen to each other talk for hoooours

weakness... well maybe if you two were open about ur feelings sooner, you could have gotten a little kissy, eh? sigh their weakness is bad timing. like on their own they have their own issues, but together their relationship would be strong... feels good, feels organic

What are they like in the bedroom? Any kinks/fetishes/turn-ons? Anything they won’t do?

in a word? fantastic. in two words? noise complaints. char is LOUD

but yeah what they’re like, well im gonna have to use that word i love so much, passionate. they’re real passionate. love making, fucking, what have you. char,,, well, char isn’t what you’d call subtle, and dan is overwhelmed and reverent, touching her and looking at her with a downright sense of awe. oh and naturally char is way more prone to using her words than dan, even if once things get really going it’s less structured sentences and more horny babbling

[nature docu narrator voice] the daniel faraday is a submissive creature and spends 90% of his sexual experiences underneath his lover

needless to say, char is the more dominant lover. girl’s gotta have strong thighs because she is gonna be on top a loooot. this is Ideal for both of ‘em

i could go on but basically These Nerds Fuck Each Other Like Champions

now kinks, etc:

char = she’s dominant in bed overall but she’s into it more than just that; being a dom is nice hobby she has. she’s got a chest at the end of the bed for her toys and other sexy tools. she loves control, and well, dan will do Anything she says (to the point where she had to stop and have a serious talk with him letting him know, hey i don’t wanna actually make you do anything you don’t wanna do, if you don’t like something, you have to tell me). and yeah basically a lot of kinks assoicated with that sort of behaviour. causing pain, being worshipped, edging, overstim, pegging, tying her lover up, etc and so forth. also dirty talk, lots and lots of dirty talk

dan = i started off having dan really like char’s hair and thats evolved into a fetish over time. he’s not Weird about it, but he Really likes it. being told what to do, specifically charlotte telling him what to do. and if i haven’t make it clear already that he’s worshipful of her, well,,,, can a person be a fetish? cuz at this point dan has a Charlotte Fetish dajkdsakjds. he’s not really a kinky person but char makes him feel lotsa confusing new things. oh and i’ve given him this thing i call pressure kink, basically sexual enjoyment of having physical pressure on you. like somebody laying their full weight on you. or a hug that would be way too tight by socially acceptable standards. or the classic, being tied up

besides their own turn ons, they’re also willing to experiment. char is kinky and dan is relatively vanilla but will try new things. he’s learnt so much from her (and miles), like most of the stuff they’re into, he hadn’t even heard of before

what won’t they do:

okay out of the way, eliminate that Really Gross Thing. you know. if you don’t, well i’m not writing it while dan and char are in my head, so moving on

as much as char is into it, dan draws a hard line at being in pain. when he saw how much char and miles like to do that sort of stuff with each other, he started to feel worried because he really doesn’t wanna be hurt. but char is like, ya know, a good person so she respects that and won’t hurt her sweet boy

also for the love of fuck, don’t pull on daniel’s hair. i know that can filed under Don’t Hurt Him but i’m putting special emphasis on it because he’s autistic and he will cry and in a bad way. it’s a guaranteed way to make his dick peace out

as for char, besides what i mentioned up top, there isn’t much char won’t do or at least isn’t willing to try out at least once. oh and while she will hurt, she’s not gonna like... mutilate. ugh

also one time char was on her period and they got intimate, and dan, being inclined to use his mouth down there, Licked A Drop. not out of his own desire to do so, he just thought it was the right thing to do. and char was equals ways stunned, horrified and disgusted. (and miles straight up had a freak out, calling dan a sick fuck, etc. dan was like ???) so yeah, thats a no go for her. period sex? yes. but keep your damn mouth away from there, thats icky

Who initiated the relationship? Who kissed who first?  When did they realize they were in love?

i think char’s the one who’s gonna ask dan out first. and kiss him first (limbo char is making up for lost fucking time, my dude)

oh sometime on the boat, for sure. i think dan was in love with char after knowing her a week. char i’d give her 1 or 2 more weeks on top of that. they both decided to keep it to themselves out of a mix of insecurity and guilt

thank you for your time!

#lost headcanons #theres some pretty riske stuff in here #i don't u don't mind #i think about these two Like That a lot #annnyways #forgive the lateness of my reply #i'd forget the message was there and then when i'd see it i'd be wearily like ''ugh not now'' #been sleeping a lot #milesdanielcharlotte

[turbulentt]

Dirty Laundry

genre: smut | gangster!wonwoo x gn!reader

word count: +3.6k 

warning: explicit content, a bit of angst, kind of gangster au?, oral, daddy kink

summary: you’ve known wonwoo for a few years now and, even if your feelings grow stronger by the minute, you’re scared of what might happen if you fall in love completely. on the other hand, wonwoo is tired of waiting.

Messages on

   You: Wonwoo, where u @?

Wonwoo: I'm at Mingyu's. Why?

   You: I was just wondering if u wanted to come by

Wonwoo: I still have some things to take care of

But as soon as I'm done I'll head over to u

   You: Thanks and... be careful

Wonwoo: Sounds like u don't know me, I'm never careful 

Messages off

It has been over two years since you got stuck on an elevator with Wonwoo. In the beginning, neither you nor your friends liked him due to the rumors that circled about him, but after a deep talk and some laughs, you felt like you could understand him better.

Everyone you came across always told you "Don't even go near him." or "He's nothing but trouble." or even "You're too pure to be around him, he'll put you in danger.". Of course, you got scared. What is he? Some kind of gangster? 

Yes. He actually is.

Well, that's not the truth. He was a gangster. Not anymore. But you don't trust him enough to believe he already left that life.

He said he gave up on those habits because of you. Because he fell in love with you and wanted to make you happy at any cost. Although his persistence won't let him give up on you, you still haven't replied to his feelings. That makes him sad and you know it, but you're too afraid to end up hurt.  

One hour and a half after exchanging texts he finally arrives at your house. But when you open the door the first thing you see is the bloodstains on his clothes. You don't get worried since you know, for sure, that that blood belongs to another person.

"I can explain." is the only thing he can say.

You step away from the door with a sad expression on your face while he comes in and follows you into the kitchen.

"Explain what, Wonwoo? I knew this was going to happen." you say paying more attention to the food you're cooking "You already know where the clean clothes are. Dinner will be ready in no time." you continue without even looking at him.

"But can I explain myself first? Please," he begs as he tries to come close to you.

You walk away from him, placing stuff on the table and preparing it.

"I'm tired of your excuses." you sigh.

As you hear him walk away from the room you sit down on one of the chairs and rest your head on your hands.

"Why do you always do this to me? Does it feel good playing with my emotions?" you groan and hit the table furiously.

"It smells good." he smiles while entering the kitchen and coming near you.

You just shrug in response and head over to the table placing the food in it.

"Sit down. Let's eat," you say coldly and he obeys.

As the two of you start eating you know his eyes are laying on you and he tries several times to say something but eventually gives up every time.

"Stop it Wonwoo, that's annoying," you say finally looking at him.

"Can you just hear me out? It's really not what you're thinking." he smiled nervously while begging once more. "Damnit Wonwoo. Why can't I resist you?" you think to yourself looking at him.

"Be fast and spare me from the lies." you huff and see a smile forming in his lips. 

"Thank you." he says before telling you what actually happened "I was at Mingyu's helping him taking care of his mom 'cause she's sick. You can ask him after, you know he'd never lie to you.", you agree quietly and he continues "When I left to come here I stumbled across a puppy who was hit by a car and I took him to the nearest vet." he explains because of the blood you saw earlier.

At this point, you were already filled with guilt for not wanting him to explain in the first place, but you still wondered if that was really true.

"Now I understand, I'm sorry for not letting you explain yourself before," you say a little ashamed and he smiles awkwardly.

"It's okay, baby. I know my past doesn't really help me, but I told you I'm working it out..." his smiles widens and you can see the lust in his eyes "...because of you."

You blush and quickly turn your attention to the food in front of you. You hear him chuckle at your embarrassment as he also keeps eating.

Suddenly your phone rings as you receive a couple of messages from someone. Wonwoo glances at your phone with a suspicious look and his face becomes red seeing the name 'Soonyoung' on the screen.

"Why is he texting you so frenetically?" he says with a low tone.

"He's jealous." you think.

"He probably just wants to talk to me. Isn't that normal?" you tease him. "Whatever." he just cliques his tongue and finishes his food.

You finish yours as well and get up to put the dishes in the sink. He follows you and as he leans to place his dish he lays a wet kiss on the skin of your neck.

"W-what was that for?" you stutter while pushing him away. "Don't deny it. You loved it," he smirks and walks away to the living room. "Don't be a pervert!" you shout from the kitchen.

As you're leaving the kitchen towards the living room you read Soonyoung's messages and laugh at what he told you.

"What's so funny?" Wonwoo asks from the couch with an annoyed expression. "Nothing," you say while sitting next to him.

You keep texting Soonyoung and occasionally watching the movie but not paying much attention. You can hear Wonwoo groan beside you each time you giggle with a message. He loses his temper and snatches your phone from your hand.

"Pay attention to me. Only me." he groans while moving closer to you.

You stay paralyzed as he keeps leaning, making your faces closer and closer every second.

"Wonwoo..." you mutter looking at him.

"What? You don't like this?" he makes you lay on the couch staying on top of you "You're so submissive for me." he smirks and you just look away blushing. "No." he places his hand on your chin and makes you face him "I want you to look at me."

He gets closer to your neck and starts leaving kisses all over it. His soft and wet lips make you lose your senses and you let out a gentle moan as he grabs your thighs firmly.

"Why does this feel so good? Why is he so good?" you think to yourself while closing your eyes with pleasure. He raises his head from your neck and tries to kiss your lips but you turn your head and suddenly get out from under him. 

"T-this is not happening." you stutter still a little stunned from what just happened and get away from him. "Come on, baby. I've been craving you for so long." he gets up and starts walking towards you. Without much space to run you just sprint to your room and close the door.

"I can't give you what you want, Wonwoo. Not now." you sigh and mutter quietly.

Messages on

   You: U can stay if you want

   But I'm not coming near u

Wonwoo: Are u really going to leave me here alone?

With a big ass boner? That's cruel, baby

   You: Are u really?

Wonwoo: Get out of the room and see for yourself

   You: I'm not leaving

Wonwoo: Then I'll just send u a pic

   You: Don't u dare

Wonwoo: [media file] 

Too late, baby 

   You: Wow... it's hum big

Wonwoo: U're still not leaving?

I'm suffering here, baby

   You: I don't care

   I'm not falling on ur trap

Wonwoo: Is that so? What a shame

If u don't come to me, I'll go to u

I wonder if there's a spare key... 

   You: Don't go through my stuff!

   I don't have spare keys

Wonwoo: Is that so? Then care to explain what's this

[Media file] 

   You: I told u to not go through my stuff, Wonwoo!

   Put that back right now!

Wonwoo: Make me, baby

Messages off

Suddenly you hear footsteps approaching your room. He must have the keys and will not hesitate to enter for sure. Once he enters you won't have any place to escape to and resisting him will be impossible. Something in Wonwoo makes it hard to refuse him.

"If you opened the door yourself it would be a lot easier." his voice says from the other side. "What do you want from me?" you question already on the edge of giving up "Why do you play with me like this, Wonwoo?".

As soon as you asked that a weird silence settled in and, not sure if he was still there, you called his name but he didn't answer. Thus you decide to open the door just to see a sad Wonwoo sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the wall.

"What's wrong?" you ask worried at the sudden mood change. "You'll never believe in me, will you?" he raises his head and you feel like a dagger went through your heart, he was... crying?

"Wonwoo, you're crying?" you ask still in disbelief, no one has ever seen Wonwoo cry, not even his best friend Mingyu.

"Yes, I am." he says sharply "I'm crying because you think you're getting hurt but you're only hurting me instead. I also have feelings, even tho I don't always show it. But I've told you several times about how I feel about you and now I know why I don't share my feelings often." he states in a mix of sadness and annoyance.

You just stay there staring at him with pity in your eyes not really knowing what to do. He was crying because you hurt him. Him. The boy who feared nothing and no one was on your floor crying his feelings out for you.

"I love you." you quickly say and not waiting for a response you hug him tightly.

He returned your hug and accommodated himself in your arms just like a little child. After a few minutes, he stopped sobbing and you smiled relieved. After all, Wonwoo was really a sensitive little boy inside of a big man's body. Only now you realized how unfair and judgmental you were being with the person you most loved.

"You love me?" he whispers happily pulling you back from your thoughts. "I do. I always have," you state a little embarrassed and he finally faces you. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" he tilts his head in confusion. "I guess I was just too afraid of commitment, I'm sorry for hurting you." you caress his cheek and he smiles.

"I love you too," he states. "I know." you smile.

"I think you should make up for all the pain you made my little heart go through." he pouts fakely with a completely different expression from earlier.

He's back.

"What do you want?" you ask naively.

He looks down at his pants and you follow his eyes with yours. His erection from earlier was now half gone but you knew it wouldn't take too long for it to be full again.

"Is that all you think about, you pervert?" you roll your eyes and stand up offering your hand to him.

"Basically." he grabs your hand but instead of getting up, he pulls you down again to sit on his lap "Don't you dare to try to run away from me again. I'll punish you, baby."

You surrender completely hypnotized by his touch. He grabbed your thighs firmly and brought you even closer to him. Roughly, but still careful, he pulls your hair back making sure your neck is totally exposed to him. You close your eyes tightly as you feel his wet lips taste your skin. He started leaving marks all over it, making sure they were visible enough for everyone to see.

"S-stop, I have classes tomorrow.." you whine but he keeps doing as if he didn't hear you "W-Wonwoo." his name leaves your mouth almost in a moan and he smirks satisfied.

"You're mine." he says firmly and stands up with you in his arms "I have to make sure everyone knows it." he walks to your room and throws you to the bed.

He climbs up on the bed quickly and without any hesitation, he takes your lips in his. Wonwoo kissed you like there was no tomorrow, he was so needy and you shared the same feelings.

"You make me crazy, Wonwoo." you thought running your hands through his hair trying to deepen the kiss even more.

You break apart from the kiss and stare deeply into each other's eyes. The vision you had was extremely hot and provocative. Wonwoo was on top of you, painting like a thirsty dog, with is messy hair falling in his face and a pair of lustful eyes gazing at you.

"Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to fuck me?" you say in a husky voice, that made him even more aroused.

"Eager aren't we?" he smirks taking your shirt off "You're so fucking beautiful." he groans eating you only with his eyes.

He sets down a slow trail of kisses without taking his eyes off you. His gaze was so powerful that you could cum by looking at him. When finally reaching your pants he starts to open them in an annoying and provocative slow pace. You whine for him to hurry but he ignores your words once again.

"Beg, baby. Beg for me.".

"You know I don't beg, Wonwoo. Just take it off for fuck's sake." you groan but he is too persistent and wants everything his way. "Come on. Just say the words and I'll do as you desire," he smirks and you just sigh defeated.

"Please... daddy." you blush immediately after saying those words and his wild side is activated.

He quickly gets rid of all the clothes, both his and yours and gets on the bed again. You look at his length and gulp with a bit of concern in your eyes, he notices your expression and caresses your cheek.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you, baby." he smiles making you less anxious and more comfortable.

You nod in agreement and he kisses you again while slowly running his hands across all your naked body.

He stands up to get his pants and from his pocket, he takes out a condom and you watch while he puts it on. He has everything always prepared.

While distracting you with the kiss he carefully places his member on your entrance and slides it in. You break from the kiss to let out some painful moans and he kisses you again to ease the pain.

He just stays still in place waiting for your approval to start moving. Slowly your pain becomes pleasure.

"Can I go, baby?" he gently asks and you nod.

He starts slow but strong enough to make you let out louder moans. At each one of your moans he gets more and more turned on and his pace becomes faster and wilder.

"W-Wonwoo...", as he hears his name come out of your mouth he loses all his sanity and comes out of you just to enter again, roughly and madly.

"I won't be able to walk tomorrow." you think while scratching his back and spreading your legs to give him more access.

He comes out of you suddenly and you whine looking at him. He smirks at your desperation and kisses your skin from your neck to your ear.

"You should apologize for ignoring me before, baby." he takes his member and teases you by rubbing it in your entrance. "I.. I didn't." you tease.

You were playing his game as well and you wouldn't let him win that easily. Teasing him was too good.

"Is he better than me?" he bites your earlobe and rubs his member a little harder making you bite your lip. "I never tried with him to know." you tease and see his expression change completely. He was not happy at that response. "You're gonna need to be punished. Bad baby," he says standing up.

He stands in front of you as you look at him confused.

"Come here. Now." he says in a dominant tone and you hesitate "Do I need to repeat myself?" he says impatiently.

"No.." you stand up in front of him "..daddy," you smirk and he bites his lip. "Don't tease me, baby." he groans in frustration "On your knees."

"What?" you pretend to not understand and he grabs you closer by your hip. "On. Your. Knees. Now." he spanks your right thigh and you let out an unexpected moan "If you don't obey, I'll do it harder, baby."

You do as he says and kneel on the floor in front of him. He smiles satisfied and pets your head. "Good baby." he bites his lower lip looking at you and continues "Now, make daddy feel good. Will you?".

You slowly look away from his eyes to his hard cock in front of you and understand what he wants. You take it in your hand and start making up and down movements. Stroking it as well as possible, making him throw his head back in pleasure. As you hear his low tone moans you start moving faster but no, you still weren't satisfied.

You look at him and decide to take his cock in your mouth. Surprised by your warmth he lets out a loud moan and looks at you only to see a vision that turned him on even more, if that was even possible.

"Oh baby... you feel so good.." he grabs your hair slowly and starts making hip movements.

He loses his senses and starts to thrust into your mouth. Because of his sudden action, you gag a little but soon you start to keep up with his movements.

"I'm... I'm 'gonna cum.." he moans out and quickens his movements.

Moments later you feel a warm liquid fill your mouth and he slowly comes out of you. You swallow it looking directly at him and he smirks with his standard dirty look.

You get back on the bed and spread your legs wanting him to finish what he started before. He sits on the bed and taps his lap.

"Ride me." 

Without losing any time you hop on his lap and begin a thirsty kiss. He grabs you by your thighs and, as he kisses you dominantly, he places you close to his member. You slide down making him enter you slowly.

You moan loudly as you feel him fill you entirely and start riding him quickly and desperately. He keeps his hands on your hips guiding your movements. Your hands are on his shoulders to help you support your body and as the pleasure runs through your body you scratch his skin.

"I... I'm almost t-there.." you are able to say in-between of the moans.

You quicken your pace and he squeezes your thighs roughly, and probably it will leave a bruise, as he feels his climax coming. You cum with a loud moan and he follows you right after. Wonwoo helps you lay on the bed and he lays beside you with a bright smile. You both look at each other and let out a sigh of happiness.

"Do you have any idea of how long I've been waiting for this?" he covers both of you with the covers and lays on his side to look at you. "I have a slight idea. I have to be honest, I've been wanting to do this for a while too." you smile looking back at him. "Then does this mean we're dating?" he smirks. "Bitch." you giggle at his question "Did you even ask?"

"To be fair I've been asking for the past two years. You're the one who hasn't been responding." he pouts like a baby. "Oh... that's true." you say embarrassed "But it's a yes. I'll date you, Wonwoo."

Messages on

   You: Hey Mingyu ♡

Mingyu: Heyyy

Wassup?

   You: I wanted to ask you smth

   Was Wonwoo with u today?

Mingyu: Yeah. Why?

Why this sudden interest in him? U in love?

   You: It's just curiosity

   But really? He was with u? Don't joke :c

Mingyu: Then why did you take so long to answer?

You're using ':c' now? He really got into you, literally and metaphorically

I'm telling the truth, he was with me. He also left in a hurry bc he was going over to your house

   You: Thank you, Gyu

   Yeah he did "got into me"

Mingyu: HE DID? YOOOO~

I'M THROWING A PARTY

   You: Stop overreacting, Guy

Mingyu: I. AM. NOT.

Wonwoo didn't have sex with not even a single soul for the past two years

He was always telling me that it was bc he was waiting for u

Bc u were the one

   You: Did he really? Omg

   Thanks for telling me this, Gyu

   You're an angel

Mingyu: I know, I know

Messages off 

You turn off your phone smiling like a child who just received the best gift. As you turn to your side you face a sleeping Wonwoo and you just stare at him happily. Slowly, trying to not wake him up, you caress his hair and kiss his forehead.

"Thank you for waiting for me, Wonwoo," you whisper.

You seek comfort between his arms and eventually end up falling asleep.

"Always," he whispers lightly.

#kpop #kpop smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #svt #svt smut #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo smut #smut

[cozycullens]

Edward being (theoretically) into some weird shit and Bella just rolls with it.

ok time to write lets go (sorry, slightly nsfw ahead) edit: i wrote way more than i thought i would so its going under the cut, i am SO SORRY LOL . .

bella had never really hidden her desire for edward. even when it was embarrassing for her to be vocal, she always made it obvious with her actions pulling at edward’s collar at the end of the day, slipping her hands in his pockets from behind, and sitting in his lap with a long, deep kiss edward, on the other hand, had to admit that he was afraid of making the first move. he told himself it was because of his old fashioned values, but if he was being honest with himself, he was just embarrassed it had been a very lonely existence, especially when surrounded by family members who had mates with primal urges. that’s how edward had become so good at so many different things, it’s easier to block someones thoughts when you were focused on mastering a few different hobbies he was, of course, a teenage boy at heart, even though in his mind he felt positively ancient. his passion for reading made him a hopeless romantic, but sometimes he would come across novels filled with page after page of detailed lust and passion. if he could blush, he would have then the rise of the internet began, and the cullens were early users - per the volturi's recommendation, since who knew if this could ruin the vampire's secret? but edward used it for more leisurely reasons and, at first, they were completely innocent but one thing led to another and he suddenly found himself consuming and discovering indecent material on an almost daily basis at his worst times. and just like most obsessions start, it was tame in the beginning but quickly intensified into photos, videos, and stories that he wouldn’t dare share with anyone else. edward was never more thankful that he was the one who could read minds and not the other way around so when it finally came time for him to make love with his wife, he was terrified. years and years of enjoying content that bella had definitely never even heard of and he wanted to keep it that way. and yet...? what if she liked it? no he wouldn’t go there until one day he did. it was years into their relationship, a mere blink of an eye in a vampire’s immortal existence but still plenty of time for them to exhaust the usual positions and locations. they were lazily resting on the couch of their cottage when bella first started to unbutton her jeans, edward knew it was now or never “love, i have a question before you lose yourself too much,” “hmmm?” bella absentmindedly hummed, continuing to place herself over edwards thighs as he spoke “i need to show you something, and maybe you could...help me,” his voice deepened, but not in a seductive way. no, bella thought that it sounded almost guilty “show me.”  edward pulled his smartphone from the pocket of his jeans bella had tried to discard and opened a password-protected file, silently handing her the device “if you want a divorce just leave me in the night and ill know” bella was silent for many minutes. much to edwards dismay, she kept her thoughts carefully guarded for this, no matter how many times he softly prodded at her arm finally, she raised her head and smiled at him, handing back the phone. “that wasn’t so bad, you big baby” edward was shocked, “my brain can’t comprehend what you just said. you did read it, right? you can read?” “yes, edward, im very capable of reading your kink list. now pick something that you want to try before i change my mind”

#happy national sex day i guess #edward x bella #anon #myposts #twilight oneshot

[fandomoneshots-imagines]

Knives Out (Natasha Romanov x Reader)

This is part two of the kink mini series. Updating from my phone and will do further editing and links later!

Summary: The reader is sent on a mission and things get heated.

Warnings: implied smut, quick mention of drugs, sadomasochist relationships (with both Nat and Reader), knife play

PART ONE (Steve’s Kink)

I sat in the meeting bored out of my fucking mind. I didn’t want to be here. I don’t think anyone of us wanted to be here. I flipped the knife in my hand, letting the handles flip through my fingers, tuning out the secretary of state.

“Excuse me, Y/N,” Secretary Ross cleared his throat, “Are we boring you?”

I looked around the room, looking for someone to help me out. I made eye contact with Sam who mouthed lie.

“Whaaaat?” I drew out, “This is the most interesting meeting ever.” Sam slapped his head and Bucky choked on the water he just took a sip of. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nat cover her smile with the folder we were given at the start of the meeting.

“Can you tell me anything that I’ve said in the 10 minutes that I’ve been here?” Ross asked, leaning forward to brace himself on the table.

“Yeah you said thanked us for coming. And then you asked if I was bored.” I gave him a triumphant grin.

“Anything between that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Something on something that we need to take care of?” I guessed, flipping the knife shut. Secretary Ross dropped his head.

“This team will be the death of me.” He mumbled under his breath, “You, Romanov, Rogers, and Barnes will be going to Colombia. Intel about weapons trafficking from a cartel. You four are going to stop it.”

“Ah, Colombia. Great coffee, great drugs, beautiful women.” I leaned back in the chair, drumming my fingers on the table.

“What was that?” Ross looked up.

“Beautiful women?” I looked at him weird. Tony had his hand folded over his mouth to hide his laughter but the shaking of his shoulders gave it away.

“No, before that.”

“Oh, great coffee?” I questioned. Steve turned around in his chair, taking great interest in a picture hanging on the wall

“No, the other thing.” Ross’ jaw clenched.

“Ah, Colombia?” I tilted my head. The folder Nat was holding was shaking, trying to keep in her laughter.

“Get out of my conference room. All of you. Rogers, you’re in charge. You leave tomorrow.” Ross fell back in his chair and we all left in a hurry.

“I swear, Y/N, you’re going to get grounded again.” Sam laughed as we filed out of the room.

“Oh please, if I was grounded you all would have no way of getting in with locals anywhere. People love me.” I rolled my eyes.

We piled into two separate vehicles, riding back to the Avengers compound. The four of us going on the mission rode in one together, going over the file that we received.

“So, it looks like the weapons are moving through a local bar.” Bucky read the folder. He was sitting in the front seat, riding shotgun with Steve in the driver’s seat. I was reading my folder, flipping my knife once again, but actually paying attention this time.

“We don’t have much of a window. The bar is an open air bar so we’re exposed from everywhere.” Steve added.

“How much of a window do we have?” Nat asked, watching me from the corner of her eye.

“We have a five minute window to stop the movement of 4 crates of weapons.” Bucky read from the file. I flipped through and noticed pictures of some of the men that may be facilitating in the trafficking.

“Nat and I can handle the men. You two handle the crates.” I flipped my knife closed. Nat’s head jerked towards me.

“What?” A chorus of voices asked.

“What what?” I looked back and forth between them, “I’m coming up with an idea to distract the men.”

“I do believe I’m the leader on this one, Y/N. I’ll come up with a plan.” Steve eyed me from the rear view mirror.

“Ok, then you and Bucky can use your femininity to seduce the men and Natasha and I will grab the crates.” I challenged. It was silent in the car for a few seconds.

“Steve, she -,” Bucky started to say.

“Don’t say it Bucky.” Steve let out a sigh.

The next night Natasha and I were at the outdoor bar in a very hot Colombia. I was wearing a black dress, that hit right below my knees. Natasha was wearing jeans which were tight but also easy to move in, and a flowy tank top. On my body was a multitude of knives. I had two on either side of both of my thighs, two down the down the back of my bra, and a few others hidden on my body. Nat also had two knives down in both boots she was wearing. Plus one gun on either hip, hence the flowy tank.

“Three men are standing on the right side of the bar.” Steve said through the ear com device.

“Two men at my 10 o’clock.” Bucky informed.

“One at our 7 o’clock.” Nat mumbled to the glass in her hand. I watched her as she took a sip from her glass and her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

“Let’s dance.” I stood up from my chair and took her hand. All around us people were dancing. I heard two voices of protest but Nat stood up and followed me to the makeshift dance floor of the open air bar. The music played loudly and I pulled Natasha close to me, switching both of our coms to mute. “You remember that night a few weeks ago.” I said, leaning in to talk in her ear. I slowly moved my body against hers, moving her hands around my body.

“How could I forget?” She grinned, moving her body with mine, “We couldn’t get enough of each other. My favorite part was when I had you squirming under my body.”

“Hmm,” I hummed, pressing my body more into hers, “My favorite part was when you were squirming under me.” I leaned in gently brushing my lips against hers, our bodies grinding together in rhythm with the music.

“The guy that was at your seven is moving in closer.” Bucky said through the com, “He’s at your 12 Nat.”

Natasha’s hand slowly moved down my body and hiked one of my legs up over her thigh, her hand slowly moving up under my dress, sliding one of my knives out of its sheath. Her pressed her lips hard against mine and threw the knife, no doubt hitting the target with a kill shot.

I licked her bottom lip and gently but it, causing a moan to fall from her lips, and pushed my tongue in her mouth, “Two men from the bar coming your way, coming from your 12, Y/N.” I heard Steve say through the com unit.

I slowly slid down Nat’s body, sliding the two blades from Nat’s boots. I stood back up, wrapping my arms around Nat’s neck, the two knives expertly hidden, “You know your marks are starting to scar up.” I smirked, flicking both of my wrists, watching both knives land center target and grinned as they dropped to the floor.

Nat moved down the top of my press, pressing a kiss to the forming scar at the swell of my breast, “Fuck,” I smirked hearing Bucky whisper through the ear piece. “Uh, o-only three targets left. I-If you can get the other guy by the bar to move Steve and I can get in.”

I turned in the direction of the bar and turned in Nat’s arms. She slowly moved her arms up my body, biting and kissing my neck. I smirked making eye contact with the loan man by the door and moved my hips more dramatically to the music and wrapped one of my arms back around Nat’s neck. She bit down on one of the older scars she once left on my neck, causing a moan to pass through my lips and my head dropping back against her shoulder.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.” She whispered against my skin, “I can’t wait to leave more scars on you tonight.” The fingers on one of her hands moved up to my throat and the other one pressed right against my pelvis, not quite cupping my sex. I kept eye contact with the man at the bar and opened my mouth in another soft moan, bucking my hips against her hand. That small movement made the man move away from the door he was posted at and move in our direction. I held my hand out for him as Nat slipped one of the blades from my bra. Over the man’s shoulder I watched Bucky and Steve slip through the door. Once the man close enough for our fingers to touch I pulled him to him, impaling him on the knife that was not stuck between my arm.

The man looked down at where the knife connected our bodies and looked back up at me. I placed my hands on his cheeks and softly kissed his lips before pushing him off, letting his body drop to the floor. I turned around, taking the knife from Nat, wiping the blade off on my dress.

“Come on. The faster we finish this, the sooner we can get back to our room.” I smirked and grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the door the two super soldiers slipped through. As we entered the room both Steve and Bucky had a crate rested on both shoulders.

“So you guys got everything covered. We’ll just be leaving.” I turned to walk back out the door.

“Not so fast. We still have to make it to the car.” Steve smirked. “You two can have your fun in a little bit.”

I groaned as Natasha handed me one of the guns she had holstered on her hip. I hated gun, hated the sounds they made, and hated the feel of the recoil. Didn’t mean I didn’t know how to use one though. We slipped out the door, Nat and I leading defenses.

The four of us moved through people with stealth, at least as much stealth as you could have with two six foot men, carrying large crates on their shoulders.

“Sixth man coming up on our right.” Bucky said. I didn’t want to draw attention by shooting off the gun and pulled a knife from the sheath on my thigh. As soon as the final man got close enough, I threw it landing the knife in the center of his chest, keeping my eyes straight ahead of me looking out for any potential threats

“That was so hot,” Nat mumbled, making me smirk. We got back to the truck and the two men put the crates.

“Are we done now?” I groaned.

“We’re done. You two go do whatever it is you want to do. We’ll coordinate with the team to get these weapons destroyed.” Steve waved us off. Natasha grabbed myself hand and the two of us ran to the hotel we were staying at. We got back to our room and was immediately pushed against the door, soft hands pushing my dress down.

“How fucked up is it that we get turned on like this during missions?” She brushed her lips against my pulse point.

“It’s super fucked up.” I chuckled and pushed her back towards the bed, stepping out of the dress that was pooled at my feet, standing only in my strapless bra and underwear. I quickly removed Nat’s clothing like she did with mine and just stared at her body, then smirked and moved to straddle her hips.

“Where are you thinking of putting your mark tonight?” Nat’s hands ran up my sides, her fingers brushed the underside of my breast.

“I almost don’t want to. Your body is perfect babe.” I said, licking my lips, “But I do have an idea.” I smirked moving down her legs, slowly kissing up her thighs. One of Nat’s hands tangled in my hair, gently pulling at it. I moved over to the other thigh giving it the same attention and slipped one last knife from the thigh sheaths.

“Don’t move,” I bit her left thigh and flipped the knife in my hand like I was holding a pencil. I slowly started marking into her skin, watching as blood pooled out of each cut, taking shape of my initials. Once I was finished with my masterpiece I place soft kisses on either side.

“It’s perfect.” She smiled sitting up, kissing me hard, quickly shifting her weight and hovered over me.

“Just thought since I had your initials, you should have mine.” I panted as she kissed down my neck, smiling as she kissed her healing initials on my left breast, like how she had done earlier in the evening.

“I love you Y/N.” She brushed her lips over mine, brushing her thumb over my cheek, “I know we can’t actually get married because of how much of a risk it could be but this means just as much to me.” Her hand slowly made its way down my body, pushing my bra down as she went.

“I love you too Natasha. One day we will get married though.” I moaned softly as she slowly began rubbing my clit.

“Most definitely,” She mumbled against then roughly sucked on my neck, “But until then, I’m going to show you exactly how much you mean to me.”

_________

Tags:

@heyiamthatbitch @notyourtypicalrose

#natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanov oneshot #natasha x reader #marvel oneshot #avengers oneshot #masterlist

[btssmutficslovingfan01]

King of Love (Oneshot)

Summary: Ironically enough, the well known “king of love,” (Kim Seokjin) a popular matchmaker during the 1970’s, has a non existent love life but then he gets sent into the future, where he meets the love of his life.

Promised I’d release this! Wait no longer, sry if it’s bad/cringe I’m still new to writing bxb.

Pairing: Jin x (Male) Reader

Genre: Time Travel, Non-idol au, Fluff, Smut, Slight Angst

Warnings: Sir kink, creampie, fingering, blowjob, anal, Dom! Seokjin, Sub! Reader

Words: 4k+

______________________________________________

“You’re a star, Seokjin. A real star.” The happy couple walks out, hand in hand.

“You’ve done it again, you made them happy,” His assistant walks into the office, his short blond hair neatly trimmed. “And me.” The young man beams at his boss, as he takes a seat in his swivel chair in the corner and spins around.

“I take it the ring is a good sign?” Jin smirks at the blushing blond.

“Yeah. Yoongi’s treating me real well.” He replies under his breath.

“Promise rings this early? Wow, you must really like each other.” Jin stamps his paper, and he pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

“We do. I know we can’t have this kind of relationship in public but it’s thanks to you that I was even able to tell him how I felt in the first place. You’re so cool, Jin.” His assistant’s praise makes his cheeks turn pink and his eyes form small half-moons as he looks in the direction of the blond.

“You’re even cooler for finding clients and promoting me through your dad’s company.” Jin’s compliment has the man in tears, crying from joy. His dimples are fully visible under the dim-lit room as he smiles wide enough for the United States to see his shiny white teeth.

“Seriously, thanks a lot, Jin hyung.” The man locks eyes with him, just as his boyfriend walks in through the door.

“Yoongi,” He smiles at the older man, as he walks in through the door. 

“Seokjin. I see that you’ve certainly taken your work to another level,” Yoongi kicks aside a file from a previous client aside. “Perhaps this is too much, why don’t you take a break and try finding someone for yourself?” Jin freezes at the comment. He’d definitely thought of dating way back before he even became a matchmaker, but nothing worked out for him. All of the men he approached just ran away claiming he was too “narcissistic” and “self absorbed.” He loves himself, but every single guy he meets says he’s too selfish. So what? He has a stable career, money, a house, and a snazzy new car. He doesn’t need to date to be happy. But he has to admit, seeing his friends in love and holding hands and stealing kisses is kinda cute. Just a little bit. But nothing Jin wanted for himself-he just wanted to see people in love with his efforts, of course. Whether it’s a man or woman, a man and another man, or two women, Jin tries to keep everything fair and equal within his office. That’s why he has such high ratings. He has even been scouted by tv show producers to film a reality show about him, but he wanted to keep his business low on the radar, since some of what he was doing was illegal. He helped people run away before, and start lives anew. He’s even helped a couple prisoners escape, but that was only because he knew they were innocent. Seokjin is a good man. And his friends wanted someone else to see that too. A special person to change his life for the better

“I appreciate your concern, Yoongi. But I simply don’t have any interest in dating right now. Look at this, all of this research! Not only am I matchmaker, but I am also documenting human behavior. This is a study, Yoongi. I’d like nothing more than to dedicate the rest of my life to research.” Yoongi gawks at his friend as he sits down and begins scanning the papers, taking up every single detail with his eyes and ignoring him in the process.

“Let’s go have dinner. It’s getting late.” The younger man looks down at his worried boyfriend as he grabs his arms.

“This isn’t good for him. The King of Love not having a partner? It’s a bad image, Joon, a bad one I’m telling you!” Namjoon interrupts him with an abrupt kiss. Yoongi blushes before being dragged away from the office, to a nearby restaurant. 

“He’s right, you know?” A deep voice resounds through the room.

“Taehyung? What are you doing here?” Jin looks at his younger brother as the man with wondrous grey eyes strolls into the office.

“I’m trying to convince you to get some pussy. Leave before it gets too dark. You know how there’s a curfew now.” His eyes darken as he takes a breath and grabs a folder from the desk.

“That can’t be the reason why you’re here.”

“You’re right. Give me some money,” Seokjin raises an eyebrow at his brother in disbelief. “Just kidding, I just wanted to see you again.” He smiles warmly and Jin sighs in relief. He almost panicked for a moment; almost.

“Aw, you’re so cute for coming to see my handsome face today, but I have to really work on this report, alright?” When Taehyung refuses to move, Jin stands up and starts pushing him, trying to get the younger male to leave the room. “I’ll...talk...to...you...when...I...get...home.” Jin gasps for air after he practically pushed his brother out, surprised by the brute force of the man. He was not aware of Taehyung’s raw power. He must’ve bulked up a lot more from the last time they saw each other.

He sits back down at his desk and begins writing.

“Love is not over until the two parties decide it is officially over. Even when broken up, a boyfriend may still possess some sort of control over his former girlfriend and they go through this phase of denial where neither of them want to admit that they are still in love while they are trying to move on.” He sighs before writing again. “The proper way to break off a relationship is by healing. People may use this time to talk to new people, explore their life as a single person, etc. However, it is never good to distance oneself fully. People are usually attracted to someone they see a lot, perhaps a coworker or classmate. But then they are less likely to be attracted to someone they don’t see very much. Distancing oneself from their ex-lover requires discipline, and harmony between the body and mind. They must be able to stand in the same room without feeling anything. Most issues arise in a breakup when two partners physically separate themselves for a period of time right after the breakup, but then when they see each other after that, the feelings come back. All of the moments and precious feelings arise and they both are back at square one. But then they must consider the reason for why they broke up. Was it worth it? Was it unhealthy? They need to know what’s best for them, individually, and grow from there.” Seokjin yawns as he finishes writing his 45 minute piece, setting his pen down and resting his head on the surface of his hard wooden desk. He closes his eyes briefly, seeing a flicker of light from the corner of his eye.

He sees it again, except this time it’s brighter, bluer, clearer. He stands up, inching towards the door that leads to the hallway. He opens it, finding a man standing directly outside of his room, one hand up, his palm facing Seokjin. Blue dust surrounds him, glittering magically and making Jin’s eyes widen in awe. He looks up and recognizes the face.

“Again, I’ll say it--you need a boyfriend.” Yoongi pushes his palm towards Jin, and Seokjin is thrusted against the wall, his head thudding against the wall as he sank deeper and deeper into the floor.

Seokjin awakens to find himself right outside of his office, except it’s a lot more different now. The hallway is cleaner, and there are more people. The first thing he notices is that the door no longer says “Kim Seokjin.” It says “Men’s Restroom.” What could Jin be doing in front of a bathroom? He remembers the weird flash of light outside of his office and then he woke up here. He shrugs and begins to walk towards the waiting room, where his next clients would be waiting. He doesn’t bother with changing or brushing his teeth; he is a very busy man.

“Mr. Ford, your appointment is scheduled for Saturday, the 14th.” He overhears a receptionist speaking. That’s strange, he didn’t recall hiring a woman on staff.

“Thank you, I will see you then, Linda.” Linda? He doesn’t know anyone with that name.

“Y/N?” He sees you look up at the sound of your own name, as you quickly pick up your book before running to the desk.

“You said they do therapy here, right? Like not massages, but with a chaise, and a person to talk to?” Jin listens in on the conversation, hiding behind a plant.

“Yes, uhhhh, let’s see, Dr. Harry is busy, and so is Patricia, let me see if-”

“I’ll take him!” Jin finds himself moving before even thinking. “Dr. Seokjin, I’m a local therapist working in...Kim Enterprises.” 

“Never heard of a Dr. Seokjin.” The receptionist simply blinks twice before nodding. “Okay, you can go.” She slightly winks at him before letting him walk you towards the direction of his old office.

“Um, do you work here?” You ask.

“Yes. I’m actually a matchmaker, but I also study human behavior.” He truthfully explains it to you.

“Thanks for agreeing to help me. I’ve just been stressed about life, you know?” Jin nods, as he guides you to a seemingly empty room, with a bed, a chair, and a setup of a typical Doctor’s office.

“Lie down here. You can tell me about your troubles. Everything is confidential and safe with me.” Jin reassures you. You simply give him a smile and follow his instructions.

“Let me see...so my day started out great but then my mom called me and told me about how she’s disappointed that she had a son like me and she wishes she had a daughter instead, and then my father stole some money from me last month, that was bad. And just a couple hours ago, I found out that my best friend died in a car accident.” Jin’s eyes widen as you pour out your feelings. He’s mostly surprised with the trust you have in him, as if you already know what kind of person he is and enough about him to tell him all of these private things.

“I’m sorry. On a scale of one to ten, one being the best and ten being the worst, how do you feel right now, emotionally?” Your eyes glistening with tears as you try not to cry.

“Ten thousand,” Jin wipes a couple of your tears before reaching into his pocket and handing you a handkerchief. “You have a custom handkerchief?” You ask him after realizing his initials were stitched into the fabric.

“Yep. I always carry it, it’s like my good luck charm.” He winks at you as you laugh, the direness of the moment wearing off as you speak to Jin. 

“I wish I had something like that. So, didn’t you say you were a matchmaker?” You try changing the subject, now focusing more on the incredibly handsome man in front of you.

“Yes, I am. I normally help clients get the person of their desires, confess, or sometimes, even mend struggling relationships.”

“That sounds like a bunch of jobs smushed together.” You tap your chin as you fall deep in thought.

“It’s the 70’s, so they have one person do all the doctor’s work.” Seokjin gives you another charming smile.

“Haha, you might be right about the doctor’s wor—wait did you say 70’s?” You ask, making sure you weren’t tripping on acid.

“Yes. Is there something wrong, Sir?” He asks, his tongue running along his plump lips.

“It’s 2019. Why are you referencing the 70’s out of nowhere?” Jin’s face turns as white as a sheet. He looks like a ghost. You watch as the poor man excuses himself to the restroom, and how he fails at trying to conceal his panic around you. It’s actually kind of adorable, in a way.

Meanwhile, Jin splashes water onto his face, trying to make sense of the situation. 2019. He said 2019. There’s no way that could be true unless--last night was not a dream. Yoongi actually did magic and cast a spell on him that made him come to the future. Jin was still unsure but the room he is standing in is proof enough, that he traveled in time. He now has to break it to you, tell you the reason he is actually here. You might run away like the others, but it’s his job to be honest with his clients. It may be one of the hardest things about being a matchmaker. His job is very much like a doctor’s, as he can’t promise good results 100% of the time, but he can make assumptions on the “diagnosis” and process reasons for failure. 

“You aren’t from around here, are you?” Your words astonish Jin, as he walks back into the room and closes the door behind him.

“What do you know?” You fold your arms and lean back into the wall, your feet a couple inches off the ground.

“I know you aren’t a doctor, and you used the term “matchmaker” which means broker in this day and age, but back in the 70’s it was basically a glorified therapist.” You smirk as Jin’s mouth opens wide and he gawks at you, eyes twitching.

“H-h-how…?” The only thing he could think of was: witchcraft. Except you whip out your phone and prove him wrong.

“I’m not stupid, you know. We have something called the internet, which allows us to search anything up.” Jin grabs your cell phone and presses the buttons, surprised that your screen was responding to his touch, and that he could do so much with just hovering his fingers above the keys.  

“A typewriter.” He gasps.

“A digital typewriter.” You gently take the phone out of his hands, laughing at his adorable demeanor as he recites the word “digital” like an incantation.

“Since you know what’s going on, I need to ask: when can I go back?” You look at him with confusion.

“What do you mean? I just figured you were cosplaying.” Your words astonish him, since he had never heard of the term.

“No! I am from 1972, and I work here, the King of Love? Ever heard of him? It’s me. I’m Kim Seokjin.” He tries to explain it but you simply wave him off.

“I don’t believe you’re from the 70’s.” You simply state, shutting him down completely.

“What can I do to make you believe me?” He asks.

“Vocab.” You snicker, knowing the man is sure to fail now.

“I have no idea what you’re trying to say. If anything, it looks like I’m the one who is in need of assistance.” His quality of speaking is very different from any other man’s voice you’ve heard, and it makes him sound sincere and more trustworthy.

“Look, bro, I needed a therapy sesh. Not some weird time travel shit. Now can we please--”

“That is not very appropriate, correct yourself.” His sudden command silences you, as you stare him down, a blush settling on your cheeks.

“Y-yes sir. I apologize for my use of profane language.” You feel strangely aroused, as Seokjin circles around you, making you feel slightly inferior to him.

“Good boy.” He smirks as your gaze falls down to his shoes, and you admire how neat it looks. Wow, it almost looks like an original pair. But you can’t get too distracted. “Maybe if you’re good for me, I’ll give you a reward?” You nod slightly as he scans your body, mentally undressing you with his eyes. He steps forward, and before you know it, his lips are on yours, pink, plush, velvety lips pressing against your skin. You’re burning up, and he’s doing this to you.

“Seokjin, please.” You whine as his fingers make their way down your jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down your bulge through your boxers.

“Please what?” He teases, repeating the gesture a couple times until you’re grinding against his hand, waiting for something to happen as you rutted against him lewdly.

“Please sir. Please make me cum with your fingers.” You mewl as he kisses you roughly, and his hands squeeze your ass lightly. “F-fuck.” You gasp as he spanks you with aggression.

“Take it off your clothes. I want your entire outfit on the ground. Right now.” You find yourself mesmerized by his authority, as you quickly obey his command, and you strip for him as he scans you. He was truly the most beautiful man alive, at least in this time period. You wonder if there are other attractive men in his time period. But then again, the really attractive ones usually don’t come around very often. He may be one of the exceptions.

“Sir...your fingers!” You look up to see that his eyes are filled with lust, all the compassion and softness gone. All that’s left is a lustful version of him, with hunger. Hunger for sex.

“On the bed, on all fours, right now.” Your eyes widen as your body moves on its own and you lie sprawled out for Seokjin, as your therapist stretches out your asshole with his long fingers. You shudder from his warm touch, unusually comfortable as he takes care of you.

“You’re such a good little boy, with an ass like this, you’re surely bound for great things.” What’s that supposed to mean?

“Um, thanks…?” Your entire body clenches as Seokjin adds a finger, and you let out a painful whimper as Seokjin proceeds to thrust his fingers in at an irregular pace.

“No problem.” He licks the rim, puckered and red for him, and he tests it once again, pumping his fingers in once more.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry out in pain.

“Shhh, it’ll be over soon,” He reassures you, kissing your ass before turning you over for a long kiss. “Are you ready?” He hovers over you, and you gulp as his dick aligns with your hole. You press another kiss to his lips before nodding, and allowing Jin to slide into you by lifting your legs up high and making your hole visible to him.

“Nice and tight. You’re so warm, wow Y/N, I don’t think I can go back. After feeling this ass, there’s no one I’d rather be with.” You were confused at this point, as well as aroused, very aroused. You thought this was a one-time thing, but Jin sounds like he wants more. You don’t care, though, it was probably in the heat of the moment.

“AHHHHH!!!” You let out the most sinful moans as he thrusts into you, his skin slapping against yours, making you scream from pain and pleasure. Jin moans predominantly from the tightness of your ass, and how despite prepping you, your body was still reacting to him in ways that were unexpected. You love this, it’s too good.

“I’m gonna cum, and fill up your ass.” Jin says, the filthy language making your dick erect once more. You never were soft with him.

“Do it, cum in my ass and make me your bitch, sir.” You smirk, challenging Jin as he flips you over, and changes positions. You close your eyes as he begins pounding into you, your ass in pain but it’s so worth it when he cums.

“Y/N…” He groans, pulling out and releasing the rest of his load onto your back. Shortly after, you have your own climax, cumming uncontrollably after seeing Jin reach his high. He kisses you passionately, wiping a tear from your eye. One more time, he slips into you as you climb on top of him. He watches you with a smile as you bounce on his cock, his balls slapping your ass you went up and down. Your ass is basically numb at this point, from being spanked so much. And your dick is pointing straight up, as Jin rubs it between his hands, up and down like how you were moving. You start moving quickly, now the two of you moaning each other’s names like madmen. You slow down when he cums again, making sure the cum filled you up for good this time. This time he continues moving, making you scream out in pleasure, loud enough for all the people in the building to hear. No other man has ever been able to make you orgasm like he could, you know in your heart that Seokjin must be the one.

“Did that hurt?” He asks, all of the lust disappearing from his voice and being replaced with compassion.

“Just a little at first, but it was fun.” You moan as he kisses your back, his plump pink lips leaving a thin layer of saliva as he does.

“You’re very tight, you know? I could warm my dick in there for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough.” You blush at his romantic words. No man has ever been so soft with you, sure you liked it rough since you were a guy, but you also had a strong attraction to the more feminine side of men. That’s how you found out you were gay. You dated girls that looked more like men, and then eventually had your first experience with a guy. Sure, you weren’t focused on finding a relationship at the moment, but tender-hearted Seokjin is the perfect man in your eyes.

“Mmmm, I have to go back now. I see the light.” Jin moves away from you unexpectedly, making your skin go cold as you wrap your arms around yourself.

“N-now?”

“Yes, but just know that I think you’re pretty cool. Any guy would be lucky to have you. Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“Okay Jin. When will you be back?” You ask, hoping for the perfect answer.

“Never.”

***

It had been about two weeks since Seokjin left the future, and work was as dull as ever. After his experience with you, he couldn’t stop thinking about the future. How you could’ve possibly been pregnant after he released his seed in you twice (Yes Male pregnancy is a huge problem in this world) Yoongi and Namjoon hated seeing him like this, Taehyung even tried cheering him up with pink cupcakes but the only thing he could think of was his princess.

“He’s miserable.” Namjoon sighs.

“I wish we could help him.” Taehyung frowns.

“Maybe we can…” Yoongi wiggles his fingers and lets out a giggle.

Ten minutes later, Seokjin hears a knock on the door.

“Come in.” Even the enthusiasm is gone from his voice.

“Did anyone call for a therapist?” The shock on Jin’s face when he sees you is laughable.

“Y/N!” He runs to you, pressing endless kisses to your face. “I missed you so much, my prince.”

“I missed you too, Jinnie.” Your nickname for him makes him smile. 

“It’s been too long.” He slowly moves down, kissing every inch of your body. He looks up at you for permission before removing your pants. He looks at your lace panties and pulls at the band. 

“Dirty boy.” He strips off your underwear and leaves you to stare at your own rising erection, making your cheeks flush and your pores open up to sweat.

“Ahhhh, Seokjin.” You close your eyes as the slurping noise resounds, bouncing off the walls and letting everyone in the building know how well Seokjin fucks you. He continues rubbing your cock between his hands as he takes you into his mouth.

“Cum in my throat, baby.” He demands. Your body shudders and you let out another moan as you have an orgasm. Jin licks you clean and then you lean in to kiss him.

“This time, I’ll be the one who stays.” You say, yanking his tie off.

#jin smut #jin x reader #male reader #bts #btssmut #Smut #jin

[thethoughtsfromthreeam]

California

Pairing: Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels x OC

Warnings: Death, violence

A/N:  We start seeing action in this chapter AND the start of soft!Jack, which isn’t a popular Jack trope currently as everyone is discovering their daddy kinks atm.  Plus I want soft!Jack because I’m a sap and I’m suspecting some of you are, too.

Reminder: I haven’t seen Kingsman: The Golden Circle, so I’m just using the Wikia, IMDB.com, some gifs, and my own weird ass brain to make up this whole ass story.

Tag List:  @zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @tarrevizslas , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder [please message me to be added or subtracted]

[PART 1]  [PART 2]

Part 3 

Next Stop: California

 The droning voices of the three other agents felt like background noise to her and she paid little attention to the words coming from their mouths.  After four weeks of hard work, Jack, Champ, and Tequila all felt Sirah was as ready as she could be for California.  She wasn’t so sure, but nonetheless, to California she must go.  

She wasn’t exactly a full field agent, but given the nature of the case, she wasn’t going to be inside the West Coast office at all, putting her into a position of little protection. All four crossed their fingers that the training was going to work.

“Sirah, are you going to be okay?”  Jack’s low voice cut through her thoughts.  She relaxed her face and looked at him.

“Probably not,” she laughed.  “But what can I do?  The case needs to be worked on, I have the skills you need, I’ll go.  I’ve made peace with all this.”

She hoped she sounded light-hearted and the three men cautiously nodded their heads.  As they exited the board room, Jack grabbed her hand and squeezed it.  She looked up and smiled, placing her hand over his.

“Jack, I’m sure everything will be fine.  Agents Sherry and Malbec are the primaries on the case.  I’m just there for back up.”  She smiled again.  They had become close friends over the last several years, often paired on cases together. She always appreciated Jack’s softness instead of the larger than life flirt he was with everyone else.  Not that he didn’t try the brash bravado he was known for on her at first.  It didn’t go far when she shut him down.

---***---

“Whiskey, would you up and die if you couldn’t flirt with a single woman?” She smiled at him and laugh when his eyebrows shot upwards.  “Bless your little heart, agent.”

He suddenly laughed, something he always did, but this sounded real, from the very inside of him.  He looked at her and relaxed.  He loved women, he loved flirting with them, he loved everything about it.  He wasn’t ashamed of it.  And he was certain he was going love Sirah, if even it came to nothing more than friendship.  He loved a woman who can make him laugh.

“Darling, you called me out.  I’m sorry, let me show you my manners and start again.  I think we can be great friends.  And please, call me Jack.”  He said.

“Jack?”

“Yes, Jack Daniels.”  And the laughter started up again until tears ran down her face.  

Yes, he thought, they’ll be great friends.  Maybe more.

---***---

Two months had passed since she landed in California and the adventure was wearing thin on her.  The cozy cabin near Redwood National Forest that served as their field headquarters was becoming less cozy and more confining as the days passed.  When she wasn’t pulled into the field to help with investigations, she was holed up in the house pouring over thousands of hours of work. Dead bodies dotted the west coast and she, along with Malbec and Sherry, were certain they were connected.  It was just a matter of finding the hub to all these spokes.

Agent Malbec sat on the couch, reviewing video sent by the office when she heard Sirah’s deep sigh.  She turned towards the researcher and found her hunched over three large maps on the table. The older agent got up and stepped over, putting her hand on Sirah’s shoulder.

“Not what you had hoped for, was it?”  She asked the question kindly.  She and her partner had grown to rely heavily on the researcher standing next to her and on more than one occasion, the information Sirah gleaned from the hundreds of pieces of evidence saved their asses.

“Not really.  I don’t think any of the information we have is viable.  I’ll go over the audio again to make sure I’m understanding what we caught, but I don’t know.  We’re so damn close to an answer, I can feel it.”  Sirah rubbed her eyes, she was exhausted.

“That’s not what I meant.”  Malbec replied and the younger agent looked at her.

“You’re not a field agent, you’re doing stuff you’re not comfortable with and it’s wearing on you.”  Sirah hung her head.  “No, don’t be ashamed!  I get it, this isn’t for everyone.  But I need you to know we appreciate you and you’ve been the best damn resource we could have been given.  We’re close, we’ll get the bastard, I promise.”

The two women smiled at each other before turning back to the maps and discussing what the audio from Sherry’s most recent stakeout had given up.  They continued to talk for another twenty minutes when they heard a large thump.  They looked up towards the back of the house, curious.  Sherry was out in the field tailing a suspect and wasn’t due back for another day or so.  Malbec drew her gun and slowly walked towards the sound.

Suddenly, something smelled weird to Sirah and she sniffed again trying to figure out what it was.  Just as she zeroed in on the scent, she heard Malbec running back towards her screaming, “FIRE!”

She looked up in a panic and could see smoke slowly filtering into the room. Oh my god, she thought.  Malbec was grabbing things off the table, including files and the maps.  Sirah ran to the computer and popped out the microdrive she saved everything on and said a silent thank you to her past self for backing it up not an hour earlier.

Without hesitating, she popped off her bootie and slid the thin piece of hardware under her inner sole and put the shoe back on.  The smoke was thicker now, and she could hear the flames crackling loudly behind her.  She grabbed a box from Malbec and they both ran outside, hitting the front porch just as an explosion rocked the house.

The fire caused the propane tank to burst and the ball of fire shot outwards, knocking the women to the ground.  Sirah cried out as she could feel her skin burning from the flames. She tried crawling away, but the heat of the fire seemed to be chasing her and tears streamed down her face as the pain began to overwhelm her body.

She collapsed to the ground, splayed out.  Papers and charred pieces of building rained around her as she laid there, struggling to remain focused.  She saw Malbec struggling as well and was confused when the woman, on her knees, stopped and looked upwards.  Forcing herself to focus through the haze of her pain, she noticed a pair of legs but couldn’t make out the torso.

“NO! WHY YOU?!” Malbec screamed and suddenly a shot rang out. She stilled and then dropped to the ground.  Her head landed facing Sirah, who could see the bullet hole in her forehead.  The vacant stare of the dead woman seemed to pierce right through her.

Sirah tried to scream, but nothing came out of her mouth and she struggled to get up and run away when her braid was yanked from behind.  The scream came as pain surged through her body, her burned skin being twisted beyond its limitations.  She was certain she was going to be shot next and she began to sob. A voice sounded in her ears.

“Your crying has only just begun.”

#agent whiskey #jack daniels #pedro pascal #kingsman: the golden circle #fanfic #agent whiskey x oc #agent whiskey x reader #pedro pascal x reader