Latest Posts by adventures-of-impala - Page 2

old German lady gave me acupuncture today

she lifted up my shirt, saw my top surgery scars, and immediately went "WHOA! What caused THIS?"

my fellow comrades, it took every atom of my strength not to just say the funniest lie I could think of on the spot.

Fictober Day 10

"Loving you is the easiest thing in the world."

SamBucky, post-TFATWS, happy!Bucky, trans!Bucky, body dysphoria, body dysmorphia. Mentions of transphobia/homophobia.

Idea from this post!

Bucky stared at himself in the mirror after a shower, towel tied around his waist, water dropping from his hair. He glared at the scars decorating his body; the ones under his pecs, the ones curved over the joint of his left shoulder, and various other nicks littered about his skin.

But the ones he was most concerned about were the ones under his pecs. The ones made with the most caution, even and curved.

He had gotten a surgery back in the 30's, where it was never approved of to be ‘different’ in that way. Where he could've be killed just for being a man, or for loving a man.

The two ideas contradicted each other when it came to the logic of such bigoted people- who Bucky later learned were called transphobic and homophobia. On one hand, if people had known, Bucky would have never been considered a man. But on the other, he would be when it came to dating one.

He always found it ridiculous. It had always made his chest ache deeply and his eyes prick up.

As he stared in the mirror, he began to cry, hatred for his body popping up in his mind. Part of him knew that Sam didn't care, but he still couldn't help but think, just for a moment, that maybe he was in the way of Sam experiencing something real.

A knock comes from the bathroom door, Sam's voice concerned as he speaks.

“Bucky? You alright in there, man?”

Bucky hiccups, shaking his head. “N-No.”

Sam immediately cracks the door open, peaking in, met with the sight of Bucky's hands clenched on thd edge of the counter, tears pouring down his face as he stared in the mirror with a disgusted look.

“How… How could you love this?” He hiccups, gesturing to his chest. Sam inches his way in, closing the door behind him as he places a hand on Bucky's shoulder.

“Bucky, loving you is the easiest thing in the world. You know that, right? I don't care what parts you have or don't, man. It doesn't matter. Because I love you.”

Bucky sniffs, looking over at him with a sad look, a soft pout on his lips. “Promise?”

“I promise.” Sam says, smiling gently as he runs a hand through Bucky's hair. “Now. How about we get you dressed and get some breakfast? You must be starving.”

Bucky hiccups as he nods, turning to throw his arms around Sam, face in his shoulder. Sam holds him tightly with no quarrels on how long they stood there. He could care less if they stood there until Bucky was completely dry and they had both grown gray hairs. It didn't matter as long as Bucky was cared for.

“I got you.” He says, holding Bucky close as he calms down.

Once he is calm, Bucky withdraws, swiping at his face. He takes in a shuddering breath as he takes the moment to smile at Sam.

“You're the best damn boyfriend I've ever had, Sam.” He says, face flushing. “But I guess that ain't much a competition.”

Sam chuckles and presses a kiss to Bucky's forehead before leading him to their room, sitting him down on the edge of the bed as he grabs Bucky's clothes.

Bucky immediately starts changing himself, hanging up his towel once he was done. He takes Sam's hand without another word and starts leading him towards the kitchen.

Sam starts breakfast, Bucky watching him from the kitchen table as the two chat about everything and nothing, exchanging small smiles and flirty jokes.

Fictober Day 9

“You need to pay better attention.”

Stranger things, Steddie, friends AND lovers, Steve tutors Eddie (unsuccessfully), soft!Eddie

Prompt thanks to this blog

“You need to pay better attention, Eds.” Steve sighs as Eddie hands him his report card with a frown, the paper crumpled from being at the bottom of the bag.

“But look! I got a C in english!” He exclaims, trying desperately to distract him from the F's in math and science.

Steve shakes his head with a fond smile, pulling Eddie down to sit next to him as he looks over the grades.

“I swear I thought we went over this stuff, babe. What did you struggle with?”

Eddie shrugs, leaning into Steve's side, pressing his face in his shoulder. “I dunno. Its just hard.”

Steve frowns, glancing over at him when he notices Eddie's withdrawing tone. “Lets drop this for now, okay?”

Eddie nods, standing as he pulls Steve up and towards his room, discarding his boots as soon as they're through the door. Steve follows promptly and lets Eddie pull him to lay on the bed.

Steve's face is in Eddie's hair, the boys face shoved into his chest. He smiles softly, pulling him closer, running his hand soothingly over his back.

“How'd your day go, baby?” Steve asks, pressing gentle kisses to the top of Eddie's head.

“Alright, I guess. D&D had to be canceled, though.” Eddie scoffs, tightening his grip around Steve's waist. “Some stomach bug is going around.”

“Aw I'm sorry, Eds. But it can always be rescheduled once everyone's feeling better, okay?”

Eddie nods, pressing a kiss to Steve's cheek.

“I know. How bout you? How was your day, Stevie?” Eddie asks, his voice slowly turning into a mumble.

Steve smiles and begins on how his day went, rambling on and on. But after a bit, he notices that Eddie went unnaturally quiet. He smiles softly when he realizes that the boy was fast asleep.

He moves him to lay back, unbuckling his belt and putting it to the side, along with his various rings and necklaces. He covers him up and presses a kiss to his forehead before getting up and rummaging through Eddie's drawers for clothes he could change into.

Once he finds something, he lays down next to Eddie, pulling him into his arms, smiling softly as he falls asleep.

“I'm proud of you, Eddie.” He mumbles, dozing off.

seven years later i am still not over the fact that dean killed himself because cas was dead and cas never even found out

and to make it even worse, it happened the same episode cas came back to life. dean killing himself to join cas in death, not knowing that cas is actually alive? literally the plot of romeo and juliet aka the most famous love story of all time. and this was never fucking resolved

truly the show of all time (derogatory)

please i hate going to helpol blogs, only to see random queerphobic sentiment of any kind.

please reblog if;

you love your trans brothers, sisters, and siblings

you support aces and aros

you support 'weird' and 'contradictory' labels [i.e. lesboy/turigirl/etc]

you support mspec lesbians and gays

you support multigender folks

you support agender folks

you support all nonbinary & genderqueer identities

you support neopronouns and xenogenders

you support microlabels

i don't like to talk about my specific identity, but i personally use contradictory labels! i contain multitudes and that's wonderful!

we don't gatekeep the queers here.

unfollow if you feel differently

My History as a Baby Witch

Hello, I'm Nikki! I'm 24 out of Florida. I'm a Baby Witch.

I started my magical journey 8 years ago back when I was 16. I fell in love with Wicca as soon as I heard about it. I loved the beliefs, I loved the freedom, I loved the mystery of it all, and I loved the idea of witchcraft. I realized right then and there that I felt at home as a Wiccan.

I lived in a very Christian family and had to practice in secrecy for a very long time. I learned a lot of things. Color correspondences, candle magic, sigils, and kitchen magic. It helped me keep my practice hidden but it also stunted my growth as a witch.

Now that I can practice openly I've come to Tumblr to seek information and to possibly join a community that can guide me through this journey of becoming a witch and learning more about witchcraft.

If you have any information you'd like to share whether it be a community to join, information on altars or other types of magic, or anything else please feel free to reach out to me. I'll try to respond as quickly as I can.

With that said:

Bide the Wiccan law ye must, in perfect love, in perfect trust. Eight words the wiccan rede fulfill; if ye harm none, do as ye will. Ever mind the rule of three; what thee sends out comes back times three. Follow this with mind and heart. Merry ye meet, merry ye part.

Update 1 (9/14/2024):

Since writing this first post I've definitely reflected on my beliefs and have learned of the injustices of Wicca. I no longer feel comfortable calling myself Wiccan and have instead found myself as a Hellenic Pagan. I do not stand for cultural appropriation and I'm taking steps to undo any injustices that I may have done while Wiccan.

disabled intersex trans lesbian needs help paying for bills while sick with gallstones

hello, i'm equinox. i'm a mixed disabled intersex trans lesbian. i am dealing with gallstones, one of which is lodged in the neck of my gallbladder and causing immense pain and digestive issues. i'm struggling to keep down food, some days i can't at all. i am also dealing with an injury in my left wrist that makes it very difficult to use, flare ups from hypermobile ehlers-danlos syndrome and psoriatic arthritis. i am struggling with my health and am in need of help as working has become very difficult and i'm being urged to rest while i await my gallbladder removal surgery

today i was told that the surgeon i was referred to can't work on patients above a certain weight and that i would need another referral to a surgeon who is used to working with fat bodies. i already waited a month to see this person, now i have to wait again. i have bills to pay, and i'm struggling to make ends meet right now due to my low energy from dealing with my health as is

i have been bed bound lately and my body has been so exhausted to the point of nearly passing out in public several times. i have been so tired i have been falling asleep against my will. i struggle to cook some days due to being so exhausted. i'm behind on housework, and i need certain cleaning items. i'm struggling to eat regularly, as sometimes i can get sick and throw up for no reason at all.

i had 4 GI procedures this month, all of which were helpful and informative, but it's wearing on me. my mental health is very fragile at the moment as my care is being prolonged for no reason. i am frequently in tears due to how tired this has been making me. i am frustrated beyond belief because i just want to be able to eat normal meals again. i can barely eat. i can barely stay awake

i currently have to pay for my electric bill, and my internet bill:

if you are interested in helping me, you can do so in the following ways:

pay pal: glittergraphicnightmare @ gmail. com cash app: $glitterGraphix venmo: $Equinoxian chime: $Equinoxian

Click here for my eBay shop!

Ko-fi

Visit Equinoxian's Ko-fi Shop!

I've opened a Ko-fi shop. Come take a look!

gofundme.com

Donate to Disabled Trans Man Needs to Escape Unsafe Home, organized by Alicia Adamson

Hello, my name is Johnny. I am a disabled trans man who is currently liv… Alicia Adamson needs your support for Disabled Trans Man Needs to

me: *closes tumblr*

me:

me:

me:

me:

me: *opens tumblr*

Loverboy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Bucky, a lovesick, pining super soldier, vows to keep his feelings for you a secret — no matter how obvious his crush may seem. Those plans are ruined between a meddling Sam, an embarrassing fall, and a visit to the medbay with you.

Warnings: Avengers AU, Bucky’s POV, fluff, crack (my lame attempt at comedy), suggestive thoughts (no smut), just our boy being a lovesick little bean with a big ol’ crush.

Author’s Note: Dividers by @saradika. Proofread by @buckys-wintersoldier, thank you so much sweetie, I love you!! This was inspired by a wonderful request from @prettyboy56, thank you so much! Hope you enjoy x

“Hi, Bucky.” 

Instantly, he sputtered over his mouthful of cereal, eyes watering from his food going down the wrong way. 

Bucky knew that melodic voice before his gaze even reached its owner. You entered the kitchen, wiggling your fingers at him in greeting. 

Clearing his throat, he swiped his bowl to the side, his breakfast now forgotten about, and directed his attention solely onto you. “Hi—um h—hello, doll.” 

The muscles of your cheeks lifted up to your eyes in a smile that made Bucky swoon. Hard.

Your eyes fell to Sam then, who stood in the corner, fresh from a workout with a shit eating on his face. “Good morning, Samuel.” 

“Mornin’, beautiful. How did you sleep?” 

Bucky fought the growl rising in his throat, the unprecedented possessiveness caving its way through its internal barriers in your presence. 

You grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and closed the door, leaning your back against it to take a big gulp. 

“Not bad at all.” You licked your lips, ridding the dryness that came from a long slumber before your eyes lit up. “Oh, by the way! I drank some of that tea you recommended. It’s helped a bunch—”

Bucky zoned out while you continued to express your gratitude to Sam. He couldn’t help the way his eyes dilated as he rested his head in the palm of his vibranium hand, a lovesick sigh escaping his lips. You were just so gorgeous – a deity in human form right in front of his own very eyes. Bucky had never considered himself so lucky in all his time on earth to be within your vicinity. 

In his own world of oggling, Bucky didn’t notice how the conversation fell short between you and Sam. Neither did he realise how the two of you were staring at him; you with concern and Wilson smothering his laughter with his hand. 

“Bucky? Sweetheart?” He finally registered that you were speaking to him and almost choked, again, on his own spit.

“Mhm?” Bucky murmured, drunk off your attention. 

You smiled once again, so devastatingly beautiful that his left arm whirred in stupor. “Are you okay? You feeling alright?” Not waiting for a response, you walked over to him and Bucky almost let his eyes roll to the back of his head when you lifted your wrist to his forehead. “Jeez, you’re a little hot, Buck.” 

Sam keeled over in hysterics, unable to keep his composure any longer. Meanwhile, a bright red blossom of colour rose up from the skin of Bucky’s neck all the way up to his cheeks. 

Had Bucky not been embarrassingly infatuated by you, the throwaway comment wouldn’t have had any effect on him. But this was you. The woman who had the ability to make him melt on the spot. 

While logic and a basic level of common sense screamed at him that you were talking about his temperature, his mind could only conjure up the fact you had called him hot. 

Bucky saw your mouth moving, however he couldn’t concentrate on the sound of the words coming out of it. You were still touching him, patting his cheeks and sweeping the tendrils of hair that had fell out from behind his ears out of his face. The close proximity of your bodies threw him through a loop and without even realising, his thighs spread further, subconsciously begging you to forego all boundaries and smother yourself against him. 

Gently tapping his nose three times, you managed to gain his full attention again. “You seem out of it, sweetie. Maybe you should go down to the medbay. See if you’re coming down with a fever or something.” 

Sam blew out a breath of air. “Yeah, because that’s what’s wrong with him.” 

You threw a lighthearted glare his way before bringing your eyes back to Bucky. “Promise me you’ll get seen to?” 

How could he refuse when you asked so sweetly? “Anything you want.” He vowed sincerely. 

Scrunching your nose, you chucked his chin and whispered under your breath, “Good boy.”

Bucky almost whimpered when you withdrew your hands and stepped back. He so desperately wanted to follow you and nudge your arm until you paid attention to him once more. Your touch was fire and a cool breeze all at once. Electricity that created static across his stubbled cheek, yet also stoked a warmth through his entire body.  

Peace. He’d never felt anything like it. Never before felt drunk from just the delicate essence of a perfume or experienced the loosening of his limbs, relaxing until his legs felt like jelly whenever you so much as cast him a glance. 

You grabbed a piece of fruit from the table, ready to go down to the gym and train. “Catch you later, Sam,” you called over your shoulder. Meeting Bucky’s eyes a final time, you winked while you headed for the elevator. “Bye, sweetheart.”  

Bucky’s gaze was glued to you, following you out hopelessly until you were completely out of sight. 

He was fucked — well and truly out of his depth. 

Sam crossed his arms and smirked. “You are down bad, man.” 

Bucky swiped a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “Fuckin’ tell me about it.” 

“This is serious.” Sam sobered up, his lips softening into an honest smile. 

With an embarrassingly loud thud against the island countertop, Bucky let his head drop. “I have no idea what to do, Sam. I thought this crush would have passed by now but it’s been months.”

“Well,” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Have you even tried asking her out?” 

“And why would I do that?” Bucky asked, genuinely confused. 

Sam sputtered over his words. “What do you mean—Because that’s what people do when they like someone, you dumbass!” 

Bucky had lost enough braincells daydreaming about you constantly. He didn’t need to be told what he already knew. But the pressure of asking you out to then have a chance of being rejected? He would never come back from that. “Yeah, no thanks,” he mumbled.

“Come on, man. What’s the worst that could happen?” Sam asked. 

Bucky lifted his head up and huffed sarcastically. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe she could turn me down and rip my heart out into little pieces, so much that I would hide out in my room for the rest of eternity never to be seen again?” 

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

Bucky sighed longingly. “Let me wallow in my misery alone, Sam.” 

“Why? So you can spend your days staring at her with your googly eyes and drooling over her.” 

“I have never drooled over her,” Bucky snarled. 

A twinkle shone in Sam’s eye, a mischievous grin donning his face. “Then what’s that on your chin?” 

Bucky’s eyes widened and he quickly brought his hand up to his face to check if he did in fact have any wetness coating his mouth. Finding none, he looked back to Sam with a scowl. “I hate you.”

Sam shook his head with laughter. “You shouldn’t make it so easy to tease you, loverboy.”  

With a growl, Bucky lifted from his seat and stormed out of the kitchen. 

The irritating voice followed him. “Don’t forget training tomorrow morning, loverboy!” 

The sun was shining over the compound the next morning and so came the bright idea from Steve that all exercise activities should be held outside. While the recruits in training buffed up on their sparring with the Captain, the rest of the avengers worked out as they saw fit. 

As usual, Sam took any opportunity possible to annoy Bucky, which brought them together, running laps around the outdoor track. 

“When are you gonna man up and ask her out then, Cyborg? Pretty girl ain’t gonna be available forever.” 

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure why he didn’t run ahead of Sam. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t. Maybe the pace he kept alongside Wilson allowed him to stare at you so clearly in your tight workout leggings and sports bra as sweat sensually rolled over your skin. Maybe. 

“I’m not asking her out, Sam. Drop it.” 

Sam huffed out an annoyed breath. “Listen, man. It’s not as if you’ve got nothing going for you. As much as you’re a grumpy shit, you’ve got them blue eyes the chicks love. Gets them all gooey when you give them intense eye contact, y’know?” He reluctantly added, “And they dig the brooding, bad boy, leather jacket vibe.”

Bucky let out a rare smile within the presence of Sam. “You tryna hit on me, Wilson?” 

“Look, all I’m saying is you have a chance.” Sam slyly glanced over the field. “And if you don’t quit fuckin’ around, that chance is gonna disappear.”  

The smile instantly dropped from Bucky’s face. “What do you mean by that?” 

Sam’s signature smirk came back with vengeance. “Your girls lookin’ kinda cute today. So I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you ain’t the only one who’s got their eye on her.” 

Naturally, Bucky followed his instinct and let his eyes look over at you. You were a fucking wonder, of course he knew that. But heeding Sam’s ominous warning, Bucky allowed his gaze to venture out, only allowing you to blur into the background for a couple of seconds while he took stock of the other male, and female, recruits. 

Low and behold, plenty of other people wantonly stared at you while you completed your circuit, almost salivating over their barely concealed pining. As much as Bucky hated to admit it, the fucker was right. You were the pinnacle of everyone’s attention. 

With the way you were bending over, squatting and looking like an angel amidst the perspiration the sun brought on, Bucky wasn’t sure if he could actually blame anyone for it. 

That didn’t stop the ugly, green eyed beast within him that wanted to tear everyone’s eyes out for daring to glimpse at you. 

It was silly, he knew he had no right to feel any sort of possessive nature for you. Unfortunately, you didn’t belong to him. Still, he couldn’t control the deep rooted urges that whispered the kinds of fun he’d have gouging out eyeballs that looked where they weren't supposed to. 

Knowing he had stirred the pot enough, Sam figured it was time to try and hit the final nail in the coffin in order to make his friend move his ass. “Y’know what gives you an advantage though, man?” 

Bucky continued to death stare the surrounding agents, while keeping up with his steady jog. “What’s that?”

“Guess who’s making eyes at you right now.” 

At breakneck speed, Bucky snapped his head back around to you, only to indeed find you staring at him with a fire in your eyes and your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. 

A violent shudder ran down his spine and for a moment, the whole world stopped on its axis, allowing Bucky to revel in a daydream brought to life. 

That was until his mind snapped him back into the present. The super soldier was majestic on his feet in a fight, graceful yet utterly dangerous out on the field even with the pressure a mission came with. 

However to his utter bewilderment, you happened to be the most dangerous being he had ever come across, because in all of his years as a trained, professional assassin, Bucky had never, never, tripped over his own feet. 

And so, inevitably, Bucky’s face ungracefully met the asphalt of the outside track with an audible thunk. 

A collective of gasps, oo’s, and ah’s, rang around the large group. Bucky could physically feel the coating of red, hot embarrassment climbing up to his now scratched cheeks.  

Bucky couldn’t see the look of shame and pity on Sam’s face as he dropped his head into his hands. All he was capable of was fantasizing faking his own death and moving far, far away where no one who witnessed his fall could ever find him.  

With a painful, deep groan, Bucky managed to roll himself over. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes and allow himself to accept reality yet and so he kept them closed, waiting for the ground to swallow him up or for the beaming sun to slowly incinerate him, melt him into the ground with his shame and dignity. 

But instead of either of those, a shadow casted over him, the harsh brightness behind his eyelids dulling down. Slowly, he peeked an eye open, only for mortification to kick him in the gut when he found you standing over him. 

“You alright there, Soldier?” Your hands were set on your hips, those deliciously curved grooves of your body that he had shamelessly stared at one too many times during gym sessions. 

“Mhm,” he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing roughly. “Just peachy.” 

Even though you’d just seen him eat dirt, in front of hundreds of learning recruits and the rest of the avengers, your smile was kind as you held out your hand. “Need some help?” 

Bucky took your offering, sliding his clammy palm into your dry one and hoisted himself up with your grip. He hadn’t needed your help, he was a super soldier with a metal arm; an agility and strength beyond normal human ability. But he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to feel your soft skin against his. 

He couldn’t look you in the eye as he stood up, aware of your gaze glued to him. “Th-Thanks.” 

“It’s not a problem,” you said. “Although, you’ve got a few nasty looking cuts on your cheeks.” 

Bucky brought his left hand up to his face, hissing when the cool vibranium stung the open wounds. “Ah, it’s nothin’—don't worry about it. Nothing a few hours won’t fix.” 

You shook your head fondly. “Well, how about I walk you to the infirmary and we get some ointment on them? It wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.” 

Bucky choked on his own spit and snapped his eyes to yours. “W-We?” 

Your smile was blinding — so beautiful with an ability to stop time. At least for him anyway. “Yeah, why not? It looks like you could use a hand—y’know, since you’re a little clumsy on your feet today.” The cheeky smirk that followed your words almost sent him to an early grave.

His cheeks blazed. Bucky was sure he looked utterly stupid, with his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. But he couldn’t help the effect you had on him. “I um—I— ha, I guess.” 

Your eyes glinted mischievously. “I’ll take that as a yes?” 

Not trusting his voice to hold steady, Bucky simply nodded. 

“Great,” you approved. “Just one question though, are we going to keep holding hands on the way?”

Looking down to the space between you, Bucky felt his mouth dry when he saw that he hadn’t yet released his hand from yours. “I’m—oh fuck—I’m so sorry.” 

Still, he made no move to slacken his grip. 

You tightened your lips, and he knew you were willing yourself not to laugh for his sake. Sam would have a fucking field day with this. 

Though to his surprise, instead of pulling away like he expected you to, you began pulling him along, hands still interweaved. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, Bucky.”  

His name on your lips was akin to a siren singing her song; dragging helpless seamen to their deaths. A thought crossed his mind then, that he didn’t think he would mind so much if he sank to his reckoning, not if your voice was the last thing he ever heard. 

“Okay.” Bucky followed you blindly, eyes glued to your conjoined hands and disbelieving of his luck. 

You had led the way towards the medbay and found a cozy, private room that the doctors used for small injuries. Bucky sat impatiently on the side of the medical bed, twiddling his thumbs and fidgeting restlessly. Never had he been so close to you, alone. 

Bucky internally prayed with all his faith that you couldn’t hear the rapid staccato of his heartbeat. He was sure if he was hooked up to a monitor, the doctors would be thoroughly concerned about his health. 

Finally having gathered all the supplies you deemed necessary along with a first aid box, you walked back over to the bed and dumped everything next to him. 

“So,” you began, an uneasy conspiratorial tone to your voice that weirdly reminded him of Sam. “Wanna tell me what happened out there?”  

“I—,” Bucky sheepishly scratched the back of his neck while his cheeks bloomed crimson red. “I must’ve just tripped over my own feet.” 

He tried to shrug off his nonchalance, but he knew by your raised eyebrow you didn’t believe him. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing a big, strong super soldier such as yourself has any trouble finding his footing.”

Before Bucky could muster up any other excuse but the truth, you ripped open the packet of a medical wipe and warned him, “I’m sorry. This is gonna sting.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said with bravado. 

Bucky wasn’t prepared for the twinkle in your eye as you mumbled under your breath, “I’m sure it isn’t, Sargeant.” 

The breath got knocked out of his lungs. Oh did that do things to him. 

Suddenly, vivid images of you spread out on his bed wearing nothing but his old army hat while you screamed out his rank ran wild in his mind. 

Luckily, you were too preoccupied with cleaning the dried blood of his wound to notice him discreetly palming the bulge in his athletic shorts, trying to hide the effect you had on him. 

“Are you certain there is absolutely no other reason as to why I’m playing nurse right now, then?” Your feline grin was sexy and scary. “No possible distractions that led you off path?” 

There was no way you could read minds, right? Bucky doubled down on his denial, shaking his head from side to side and letting the length of his hair hide the truth in his eyes. 

“I’ll take your word for it then.” You finished up and reached for the healing gel. “I know the serum enhances your ability to repair the cuts, but I’d still like to use this.” Looking into his eyes, you asked, “Only as long as you’re okay with that, of course.” 

Time stopped and the two of you were caught in the other’s gaze. It was such a small gesture, one you probably didn’t even realise meant the world to him. But you asked him for permission on something that would affect his autonomy and if Bucky didn’t already have a hundred ways he was falling for you, that would have been the cherry on top. 

“Yeah,” he breathed airily. “Yeah, I’m good with it, doll.” 

Unseen to him before, you ducked your head and sweeped your hair behind your ear and if Bucky didn’t know any better, he was sure you were shy. 

He couldn’t help the large grin he sported. He was always so enamored with you, quick to falter in your presence and become unsure of himself. Right now though, a small bout of bravery returned. “Ready when you are,” he cheekily murmured. 

You hastily rushed to compose yourself. Clearing your throat, you squeezed the tube of gel, allowing a small drop of the cool liquid on the tip of your finger and stepped between his legs to gently dab it onto his cuts. 

“Okay, you’re all fixed up now.” With a last swipe of his forehead, you smiled. “Don’t worry, Buck. You still look handsome.” 

He tugged his plump bottom lip between his teeth. “You think I’m handsome?”

You giggled. “I would be blind if I didn’t.” 

Bucky blinked at you slowly, still processing your words and trying to calm the excited bubble rising in his throat. 

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, don’t act all coy, Bucky. You must have heard the whispers of the recruits. They stare at you all the time, whispering and giggling to each other.” 

With the most confidence he had ever mustered up, he responded, “Truthfully, I’m too busy staring at someone else to notice, doll.” 

The shock of his sudden boldness was glaringly obvious on your face — it was you this time who held your mouth open, lost for words. 

Bucky’s body screamed at him to tell you that he was in fact head over heels for you. That had he known falling over in front of the full compound would lead him within a hair’s breadth away from you, he’d do it all over again. 

But you seemed to recover after a couple of seconds, clearing your throat and making yourself busy to avoid his eyes. “So, I’ve got another question.” 

“Oh?” Bucky cocked his head. 

“Yeah.” You smiled while placing everything back into the first aid box as you found it. “I’ve been hearing a few rumours around the compound recently.” 

Bucky’s stomach dropped with dread. 

“You wouldn’t know anything about those, would you?” 

“I—” Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat. “I have no idea what you mean.” 

“Oh,” you hummed. “So it’s not true then? You don’t have a crush on me?” 

Fuck.

Panicking, Bucky scoffed, though it came off sounding too pathetic, too breezy. “Me? Have a crush on you? That’s—Ha! Nope. No way. Not at all.” 

He watched as you nodded to yourself. Internally, he was begging for the floor to swallow him while he cringed at his own stupidity. 

“Well,” you shrugged. “That’s a shame, I guess.”  

Bucky’s head shot up, eyes wide and shock written over his features. “E-Excuse me?” 

“Oh, it's nothing really.” There was a sparkle in your eye that screamed trouble. “You said you didn’t have a crush on me, so it doesn’t matter.” 

Within seconds, Bucky jumped off the bed and leapt towards you, not even noticing how he had grabbed your hands. “Doll, please. You can’t leave a guy hanging like that.” 

Playfully rolling your eyes, you dramatically exhaled and decided to put him out of his misery. “Leave you hanging? Damn, Buck. It’s not as if I’ve been waiting patiently for you to ask me out for months or anything like that.” 

The air became humid and stuffy and suddenly the clothes attached to Bucky’s body felt too tight and restricting. “You—What now?” 

You rolled your lips inwards, trying to smother your laughter. “Bucky, honey,” you gently murmured. “I’ve heard what the others have been gossiping about. I’ve definitely heard Sam telling the team about your crush on me.” 

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “That fuckin’ punk.” 

You squeezed his hands reassuringly and offered him a warm smile when he looked at you. “I’ve just been waiting to hear it from the horse's mouth himself.” 

Bucky’s eyes darted between yours, trying to find any hint of decievement. “You’re serious.”

“Mhm,” you whispered. “Deadly.” 

It took him a couple of seconds to let the new information sink in. Clearing his throat, Bucky untightened his fierce grip on your hands and hesitantly slid them down to latch onto your waist. “So,” he mumbled. “Say if I asked you out to dinner tonight… You wouldn’t tell me I’m a fool and break my heart into a million pieces?” 

Butterflies erupted in Bucky’s stomach at the sensation of your hands sliding over his chest to rest against his neck. “No, Bucky,” you chuckled. “I would tell you that I’m looking forward to our first date, tonight. Nowhere fancy, just casual. Six o’clock sharp.” 

Bucky smiled, all beaming and ecstatic. “I wouldn’t dream of being late.” 

“Good.” You leaned up onto your tip toes and ghosted your lips over his ear. “See you very soon then, Sargeant.” 

Tingles shot down Bucky’s spine and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He fought tooth and nail to crush the moan that rose up his throat and in his internal struggle, he missed how you’d sneakily slipped out of his hold and started to saunter towards the door. 

He almost begged you to come back; the thought of having to wait for you until the evening was unbearable. But those pesky butterflies that invaded his stomach came back strong and fierce as his gaze became glued to the sway of your hips and the sweet perfume that lingered in your exit. 

“Oh,” you stopped suddenly at the doorway and looked over your shoulder. “One more thing. Don’t go tripping over again, you hear me?” You raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Can’t have you falling for me.”

Your damn smirk was intoxicating and Bucky thought himself the luckiest fella alive to be the one taking you out. He licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have a little trouble with that request, Ma’am.” 

The clench of your thighs was unmissable. The way your eyes dilated called to him. Bucky had more game than he realised and he kept that new information tucked safely into the corner of his mind for a later date. 

You didn’t reply. You didn’t need to. Your actions told Bucky everything he needed to know and so he wiggled his fingers with a huge grin locked onto his face and watched you longingly as you left his sight. 

The minute he couldn’t hear your footsteps any longer, Bucky pumped his fist up into the air and began dancing on the spot. 

In his own bubble of happiness, he didn’t hear the footsteps of a new person entering the hallway. Only when an amused clearing of the throat echoed from the doorway did Bucky abruptly stop his dancing and slowly swivel to the intruder. 

Sam stood there, all cocky and mirthful with a shit eating grin on his face. “About time you bagged the girl, man. Dont’cha think?” 

Instantly, Bucky growled and grabbed the closest apparatus. With a pair of medical scissors, he charged towards Sam, who was quick to wipe the smirk off his face and skid out of the room with a scream. 

Fictober Day 8

No prompt. Just an idea. Credits to @buckyalpine for the inspiration behind this.

Angst, Stucky-ish, hurt no comfort.

Bucky sits down in front of the engraved stone, fingers running over the letters as tears prick his eyes.

“I didn't know they could remove it, Steve. I-I was just tryna calm everyone done. Didn't needa be a situation. S-She did somethin’…”

He trails off, sobbing softly, forehead against Steve's gravestone, his heart aching.

“She took if off, Stevie. Didn't know they could do that. I-I though she trusted me, I thought they all trusted me. B-But they still… they still treated me like I was him. I'm not a monster, Steve.”

His chest aches, throat tight, fist clenched as tears pour down his face.

“I need you, Steve. Why'd you have to go off and get the girl? I thought… I thought you loved me. You said you loved me. Til the end of the line.”

His voice cracks and wavers.

“I guess that was the end of the line, me coming back. Steve, I'm not a monster. I was gettin’ better. I was gonna be okay, for you! Why didn't you gimme that chance?”

Bucky rambles on and on, tears pouring, sobs falling from his lips, his forehead pressed against the gravestone, heart aching.

When his tears finally dry, he stands, wiping his face.

“Love you, Steve.” He chokes out before walking away, hands shoved in his pockets.

Passerby always wondered who was leaving the expensive bouquets of flowers on Steve's grave. Afterall, no one spends that much money on a hero they never met. But after that day, the word spread and the speculation stopped. Bucky Barnes was Steve Rogers secret lover, the lover that stayed, even after death, leaving flowers on his grave.

Fictober Day 7

Prompt @urfriendlywriter

Lazy kisses in the morning that starts with a grunt. One pulling the other closer as they try to get up, lazily pressing kisses all over their face. Ends with a hoarse whisper asking them to stay.

Steddie, fluff, sleepy mornings

Eddie wakes up in Steve's arms after a night together, sun peeking through the blinds of his window, their legs tangled together. He sighs, kissing Steve's cheek before moving to get up.

Steve grunts, pulling Eddie closer. Eddie starts to protest, but Steve interjects, pressing gentle kisses over his face.

“Steve, we gotta get up.” Eddie protests, but Steve persists, looking up at him sleepily.

“Please stay.” He whispers, voice hoarse, throat dry. “Just stay for a couple more minutes, okay?”

Eddie gives in with a soft smile, laying back down as he pulls Steve to his chest, nuzzling his face into his hair, arms around him.

“Happy now, sweetheart?” He asks, running a hand through Steve's soft hair. Steve nods with a content sigh, pressing his face into Eddie's shoulder, warm breath hitting the bare skin.

Eddie shivers from the feeling, smiling down at the sleepy boy in his arms, heart warming. He watches Steve slowly wake up fully, his eyes full of warmth for him.

“Good morning, clingy boy.” He teases, kissing Steve's cheek, making him flush.

“Good mornin’, Eds.” Steve mumbles, stretching out his legs, toes poking out from the edge of the blanket. “Breakfast?”

Eddie nods and starts to sit up, pressing a chaste kiss to Steve's lips before getting up fully, stretching his arms out in the air, tshirt riding up at the action and showing off the soft trail of brown hairs going down his stomach and disappearing underneath the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Pancakes?” He asks, heading toward the door, glancing back for confirmation. Steve nods and watches Eddie leave the room, a content smile on his lips.

Fictober Day 6

Prompt

"You're good to me, you know. Really good."

WandaNat

Fluff, domesticity

The two lay in bed one night, muscles sore from a long mission, Natasha's fingers grazing over Wanda's bare shoulder, face nuzzled into her hair.

“I love you, Nat.” Wanda speaks up, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek, glancing up at her with a kind smile.

“I love you more, Wands.” Nat murmurs, pulling her closer, adjusting the blanket to lay over the both of them. After a few beats of silence, she speaks again.

“You're good for me, you know. Really good. You've made me the happiest I've ever been, Wanda. I love you, alot.”

Wanda smiles softly, curling into Natasha's side, arm slung over her waist and her fingers tracing the creases in the sheets. “I love you too. So, so much.”

Natasha sighs softly, letting her eyes flicker shut, pulling Wanda closer after turning the lamp off.

Once the lights are out, they both start to drift off, their hearts beating in tandem, fingers interlocking together.

“You feel like home to me.” Natasha murmurs before falling asleep, her free hand resting in Wanda's hair. Wanda falls asleep quickly after, her face nuzzled into Natasha's shoulder.

&. 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  various  fluffy  dialogue  prompts  so  soft,  so  sweet,  just  for  you!  )

❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜

❛ there it is, there’s that smile! ❜

❛ you got me flowers? ❜

❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜

❛ aw, did you miss me? ❜

❛ you’re lucky that you’re cute. ❜

❛ wait, you think i’m cute? ❜

❛ you’re not alone. you never were. ❜

❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜

❛ good morning, sleeping beauty. ❜

❛ it’s better with you here. ❜

❛ don’t worry, i’m staying right here. ❜

❛ you’re welcome to stay, if you want. ❜

❛ don’t be a stranger, okay? ❜

❛ i haven’t laughed like this in a long time. ❜

❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜

❛ you can hold my hand, if you want. ❜

❛ i knew you would be here. ❜

❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜

❛ before you do anything, try this and tell me what you think. ❜

❛ wow i really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look. ❜

❛ we can order pizza, watch a movie, whatever you want. ❜

❛ what, am i not allowed to look at you? ❜

❛ i’m not giving up on you. ❜

❛ is that my shirt? ❜

❛ this is a good look for you. ❜

❛ pinky promise? ❜

❛ c’mere, you. ❜

❛ honey, i’m home! ❜

❛ you remembered? ❜

❛ you’re my family too. ❜

❛ let’s go somewhere, just you and me. ❜

❛ i’m here for you. don’t forget that. ❜

❛ you’re the only thing that matters. ❜

❛ was that your first kiss? ❜

❛ i was worried something happened to you. ❜

❛ your heart is beating so fast right now. ❜

❛ relationships are built on trust, and i trust you. ❜

❛ you always see the good in people. even me. ❜

❛ do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are? ❜

❛ nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time! ❜

❛ thanks to you, i know what it means to love again. ❜

❛ how about a kiss before i go? ❜

❛ i’m just glad you’re okay. ❜

❛ here we are, home sweet home. ❜

❛ thanks for being here with me. ❜

❛ seeing you happy is all that matters. ❜

❛ keep it. it looks better on you. ❜

❛ i couldn’t stop missing you if i tried. ❜

❛ you feel like home to me. ❜

marauders era girl hangout sesh (click for better quality)

Fictober Day 5

"I'm in love with you."

"Say that again."

Prompt from this list! @f4ult-line

Stranger things, Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington.

Mentions of smut, no details. Otherwise fluff.

(Yall eddie is secretly a huge teddie bear, you cant prove me wrong)

Eddie's sweaty forehead leaned against Steve's shoulder as he pants, fingers shakily adjusting how they lay, legs tangled together.

It had started out as a meaningless screw, a way to loosen up. Theres not many options a queer guy has, afterall. Not in the small town of Hawkins. But for Eddie, it turned into something more. He started staring longer, smiling more, and tried to get as much time with Steve as he could.

“Stevie?” He mumbles, still coming down. Steve hums, eyes flickering open to look down at him.

“Whats up, Eds? Y'need somethin’?” He asks, propping himself up on his elbow to fully look at him, brushing aside one of Eddie's loose curls from his forehead.

“I-Steve, I'm… I'm in love with you.” He blurts out, heart pounding as he takes a nervous breath.

Steve's eyes widen and he sits up fully, cupping Eddie's cheek in his hand. But what he says next is shocking.

“Again.” He demands. “Say that again.”

Eddie's nervous expressions turned into shock, a hint of hope flashing across his face. “I'm in love with you. And I know this was supposed to be meaningless, no strings attached. But Steve, I've fallen for you. You-You're wonderful and kind and thoughtful and-”

Steve cuts him off with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah? I love you too, baby.”

Eddie's head snaps up, forehead smacking into Steve's nose. Eddie gasps out, apologies pouring from him as he tries to see how hard he had hit him.

“Baby, baby, I'm fine!” Steve exclaims, hands cupping Eddie's cheeks. “I'm okay.”

Eddie's eyes meet his, a dorky grin appearing on his lips. “You called me baby. I like that. Call me that again.”

Steve snorts, kissing his forehead. “As long as I can call you my boyfriend. How's that sound, babe?”

Eddie nods excitedly, clambering to sit up in Steve's lap, pressing happy kisses all over his face. “Yes, yes, yes! I'll be your boyfriend. I'll be the best damn boyfriend you'll ever have, I swear.”

Steve laughs softly, pulling Eddie closer to his chest, catching Eddie's lips with his own, kissing him gently, slowly.

“Good, ‘cause I don't want anyone other than you, Eds.” He whispers, their foreheads pressed together as they smile at each other contentedly.

Who is Kamala Harris?

These are all from her Wikipedia page. I have picked the top 5 for each of these sections. Maybe you think other things are more important, these are just the things that stood out to me:

Highlights as District Attorney of San Francisco:

was tough on gun crime: created a gun crime unit, set 90-day minimum sentences, raised bail for gun-related crimes, and prosecuted all assault weapon possession cases as felonies.

created a hate crimes unit specifically focused on LGBTQ hate crimes against children and teens in school.

was (and is) against the death penalty; during her time as DA did not cave to pressure in several cases to seek the death penalty.

helped create the San Francisco Reentry Division, aimed at helping prisoners reintegrate after their sentences are through; the program became a national model.

refused to enforce prop 8, which was at the time California's ban on gay marriage.

Highlights as Attorney General of California

introduced the Homeowner Bill of Rights and fought against banks, mortgage companies, and credit card companies.

fought for financial reimbursement for public employee and teacher pensions.

fought for environmental protections and secured settlements and indictments against several oil companies for oil spills.

conducted a review of implicit bias in policing and the use of deadly force and introduced implicit bias training.

declared a law that California law enforcement had to collect and report police violence.

Highlights as a California Senator:

condemned Trump's Muslim ban.

opposed Trump's appointments of Betsy DeVos and Jeff Sessions, his nomination of Neil Gorsuch, and voted against confirming Kavanaugh.

tried to make lynching a federal hate crime.

urged the Trump administration to investigate the persecution of Uyghur Muslims in China.

voted to convict Trump on charges of abuse of power and obstruction of Congress.

Highlights as Vice president:

as President of the Senate, cast the tie-breaking vote in the Senate that ensured the passing of the American Rescue Act.

has cast more tie-breaking votes than any other Vice president in US history - she is responsible for many of the achievements of the Biden administration actually passing the Senate.

created task forces on corruption and human trafficking.

created a women's empowerment program.

has criticized Israel's actions during the current conflict in Gaza and called for an immediate ceasefire.

Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes, master of “I occasionally don’t give a [redacted]”

Bucky Barnes being slightly confused The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (2021)

reasons to care about trans men & mascs

we're people

Fictober 2024 Masterlist

Fandoms:

❤️‍🩹Marvel

👹Stranger Things

🥂Good Omens

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

❤️‍🩹Day One

Stucky, angst, post-endgame

🥂Day Two

Aziracrow, angst

❤️‍🩹Day Three

WandaNat, happy ending, fluff

❤️‍🩹Day Four

Stucky, angst, hurt/comfort

👹Day Five

Steddie, fluff, BRIEF mentions of smut

❤️‍🩹Day 6

WandaNat, fluff, domesticity

👹Day 7

Steddie, sleepy mornings, fluff

❤️‍🩹Day 8

Stucky, hurt/no comfort, angst

👹Day 9

Steddie, fluff, soft!Eddie

❤️‍🩹Day 10

SamBucky, hurt/comfort, brief mentions of transphobia/homophobia, trans!Bucky

Fictober Day 4

Prompt:

"Do you resent me?"

"I resent these circumstances. But I don't blame you for them."

*changed resent to hate

Stucky, angst, hurt/comfort

Steve and Bucky had been together a long while, from friends in the 40s to lovers in the 2000s. Steve was used to waking up to Bucky's nightmares. He was used to calming him down and keeping him sane.

But tonight was something new, something strange. He's woken up to a metal hand around his throat, Russian spilling from Bucky's lips.

“Bucky!” Steve exclaims, trying to pry his hand away, unsuccessful. “Baby, look at me. Wake up.”

Bucky stares down at him, blue eyes piercing his, Steve's words awakening familiarity within him, overriding the fear and instinct.

But when he fully wakes up, he stumbles to his feet and gets himself as far away from Steve as possible, soft sobs escaping him when he realizes what had happened.

Steve rushes to his side, only to be met with a flinch and a gentle hand pushing him away.

“Its okay, Buck. Look at me, I'm okay. You didn't hurt me.” He reassures him, sitting a foot away from Bucky, hand outstretched, patiently waiting for Bucky to take it. “Its not your fault.”

Bucky shakes his head, pulling his legs to his chest and burying his face in his knees. “I coulda hurt you, Steve.” He sniffs, tears pouring. “I love you. Don't wanna hurt you.”

Steve slowly moves closer, hand on Bucky's shoulder. “But you didn't, sweetheart. It was just a nightmare.”

Bucky sobs out and leans into him, face pressed into his shoulder. “Don't you hate me?”

“Baby, no. I hate these circumstances. I hate what you've had to go through, what you still have to go through. But I don't blame you for them, okay? So don't blame yourself.”

Steve pulls Bucky into his arms, cradling him to his chest, fingers gently running through his hair as Bucky slowly calms down.

Once his sobs turn into occasional hiccups, Steve speaks. “Buck? Wanna talk about it?”

Bucky shakes his head, burrowing his face deeper into his chest.

Steve sighs and nods. “How about I get you a cup of tea and we can go from there?” Bucky nods in response and Steve gently maneuvers him off his lap, helping him up off the ground.

“Go lay down. I'll be back in a moment, okay?” Steve says, helping Bucky to the bed. Once he nods, Steve presses a gentle kiss to his forehead before padding off to the kitchen. When he returns, its with a mug of tea in his hand, only to see that Bucky had fallen back asleep.

He smiles and sits down on the bed next to Bucky, sipping on the tea he'd originally made for him. “Sweet dreams, Buck.” He whispers, one hand playing with Bucky's hair. He watches over him for the remainder of the night, keeping an eye on his movements and sounds.

Credits for the prompt:

Tumblr

Writing Prompts Daily

Here are the rules for using my prompts! Feel free to ask me about writing or myself! Before you send an ask, please read the rules! If you'

Fictober Day 3

Prompt:

“You said ‘this can’t end well’ and kissed me, and now it’s six years later and we’re getting married.”

WandaNat, pure fluff

Natasha couldn't believe her eyes as Wanda strode down the isle, escorted by her brother Pietro. Her red hair fell in cascades down her shoulders, her white dress conformed to all the right places. Natasha can't help but take a spft breath, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve, full of nerves and excitement.

When Wanda finally stands in front of her, she reaches out for her hand.

“Hi.” She says quietly, Wanda responding with her own “hi” as the officiant starts the ceremony. But even though it was the most important day of both their lives, they didn't care, their eyes locked and fingers entwined.

And when prompted for vows, Natasha immediately speaks up.

“Wanda, when I first met you, I was scared. You were so powerful and I was just… me. But then I found out you were the sweetest person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting and I knew right then who my heart belonged to. The first time we kissed, it was after a fight. I don't remember the mission well, just the fact you nearly died. And I? I confessed my feelings and you took it better than expected.

“The moment was tense, Wanda. You remember. But then you did something that will forever be engrained in my mind. You said ‘this can’t end well’ and kissed me, and now it’s six years later and we’re getting married. Thank you for allowing me the privilege of getting to wake up next to you for the rest of my life.”

Wanda's eyes are wide, teary. “Oh, Natasha. I love you so much. You have no idea. And I was wrong. This will never end. And if it does, we'll be together. Forever, darling. And always.”

Natasha smiles, pressing her forehead against Wanda's as they exchange rings, their lips meeting gently.

That night, under silken sheets and the soft glow of the moon through the open window, their touches are soft and their words are gentle, whispered promises of a lifetime together.

Credits for this prompt:

Tumblr

Starter Stories

In Your Hands [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: That irritating, smug, asshole Loki has taken your final fuck to give. Or so you think... Warnings: 18+ minors DNI. Smut. Avenger! Loki x female reader. Mild BDSM (ball related), hostility, enemies to lovers. Language. (w/c 2.4k)

Loki’s curses beat the air behind you, and the door from the training room slammed; smothering them.

I fucking hate him, I fucking hate him.

In your experience, dramatic exits should be reserved for special occasions. And striking an ego-killer blow to Loki ‘Godsplainer’ Laufeyson was a special-fucking-occasion. It’d been a long time coming. Although you hadn’t meant to punch him quite so sharply in the balls.

I’m sure he’s had worse, you thought as the stale sweat of the changing room hit.

The last thing you’d seen was Steve’s wide, earnest eyes as Loki had doubled over in a slap of dark hair with a muted oomph—the final syllables of his snarky ‘advice’ fading along with his sperm count. You did warn Loki if he told you the correct way to deliver a blow to the transversus one more time that you’d start intentionally missing.

Not my fault he never fucking listens.

It’d been building for months: every ‘actually-I-think-you’ll-find’; ‘bad-form-even-for-a-mortal’ and ‘are-you-sure-you’re-meant-to-be-here…did-you-sneak-in-with-the-domestic-staff?’.

But under it all, the worst thought of all was your own: you still want his praise.

You picked up someone’s shoe from the floor and lobbed it at the lockers – pure, impotent rage ratcheting back with the clang. If Steve kicked you off the A-Team then so be it, worth it to see that moment of pure, wretched shock in his eyes every time you closed your own.

Breaths scraped from your throat, trying to stop the tremble in your hands. You’d spent months trying to catch his eye like a desperate pick-me teenager, spent months wishing his approval into existence: the aloof, pretentious god. Begging any higher power who’d listen for the chance to kneel at his feet and choke on his cock while he called you a good-fucking-girl. You’d bought an emerald green lingerie set for Christ’s sake. It was still in the box—the returns window a dot on the horizon.

Embarrassing. If he knew, you think you’d die of shame. Months running yourself into the ground trying to fit what he’d want and for what? Fuck. “Do you feel better, now?” The ripple of Loki’s smarm filled the air like steam, but it’s edge could cut stone.

Your lips pinched, biting back a slew of curses. You’d expected Steve, but not him.

The idea of turning made your feet root even firmer to the floor. But with every strained second that shifted past, thickening the air, he was winning—staring at the back of your head with that imperious look that only said one thing: I’m better than you, and you know it.

“If you’re waiting for an apology, don’t hold your breath.” Loki released a low chuckle. “Be assured, I can wait much longer than you. How much of your meagre lifespan would you squander staring at those dismal tiles in order to preserve the façade of your superiority, I wonder?”

You spun with a force that twinged a nerve in your neck. “My…?” It came out in a pathetic gasp. “My…superiority?!”

Loki’s face was the picture of serenity: posture impeccable, lips straight. His eyes slid between yours, brows peaked in sanctimonious expectation.

Borderline indecent gym-wear clung to the sinews of his muscular body. The material was like elasticated silk, and every time you’d made contact in training it made it impossible not to imagine frotting against him: bitch in heat.

The lines of the sweatpants draped like a sheet of liquid tar to the bulge of his thighs as he shifted his weight and said, simply, “Yes.”

Heat flared up your neck.  “You’ve got some fucking balls, Laufeyson, I’ll give you that,” you hissed, regretting it immediately. “I’m not sure your knuckles experienced my anatomy’s full glory to report on such an accolade,” Loki replied without a beat. “Their contact was a little brief…”

He tilted his head, an infuriating dimple crushing into one cheek as the heat scorched up your cheeks and made your eyes itch. “A little…weak.”

“Maybe I should twist them again,” you said, folding your arms. You hoped he couldn’t see the fingers trembling. Loki’s eyes narrowed as he crossed the changing room in three, elegant strides and loomed so close that your bellies touched. “Go on then,” he goaded. “You seem under the impression I don’t like it.”

You searched his face, noting the tremor of something deeper than the familiar irritation. Was that…but, it couldn’t be. “What are you doing?” you whispered, stumbling slightly against the lockers. The heat from his abdomen radiated through your gym top. Christ, his stomach was so hard.

“What are you doing, Agent?”

A few black strands had come loose from his ponytail, sticking to the sweat pearling on his jaw. “All bark, no bite,” he murmured, squinting lightly.

His scent crept up your nostrils like smoke under a door: fresh musk, the linger of the cologne he wore at last night’s party, and above it all a scent that was inextricably him. You could never put your finger on it. It drove you mad: just like the rest of him.

Loki released a short puff of irritation, eyes rolling to the side. “I knew you didn’t have it in you.” As he took a step back, your mind skidded to a stop as a hand flew to his chest, gathering a clutch of the slutty gym top, making no effort to cushion the scrape of your nails against his skin, and pulled.

Loki’s mouth crushed to yours with a gasp, his hands flying to the lockers on either side of your head with an ominous crunch of metal. His breath groaned into your throat, the softness of his lips jerking your senses.

Had you expected them to be cold, hard, unwelcoming: just like the rest of him? Yes. But there was time to mull over that later.

Loki’s tongue nudged against your lips, and you relented. The tension in your body seemed to melt as he draped over you like liquid; the cage of his frame and the rub of a thumb down the valley of your cheekbone making you forget just for a second how much you really fucking hated him.

“Show me,” he murmured against your neck. You hadn’t even realised the kiss had slid apart and your head was tilted back against the lockers, the god’s mouth raging a ravenous path down the valley of your throat.

“Show you what?” you panted, bringing your head forward so quickly your vision swam. A lopsided grin spread across his mouth. “How much you hate me,” he said. “You have a problem.” The barb was unnecessary, but Loki’s grin widened all the same. “Discipline me, then.”

His sapphire eyes blazed as your hand flew to his shorts, grabbing his crotch. Fingers curled around the soft, tight sac nestled below the huge erection snaking up the hip joint. Loki hissed, stomach clenching, more clutches of hair falling free. His forehead pressed to yours as your grip tightened.

“Fuck,” he grunted, voice tapering to a whine. You squeezed tighter, and the lockers behind you crumpled under the strength of his fists bearing down.

“Harder,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

His legendary cock twitched above your white knuckles, straining against the running shorts and Loki’s narrowed eyes glistened, the muscles in his jaw and the veins in his neck hard enough to pop.

“Apologise,” you spat, and Loki’s breath hitched as you gave him a brief moment of relief before clenching an even tighter fist than before.

His trainers slipped against the floor, thighs shaking with the effort not to fall to his knees. Even gods, it appeared, shared some of the weaknesses of men. Loki flipped his hair back.

“Why should I? You’re the c-combative v-viper.” A deep set of lines furrowed his forehead, rippling with each flex of your fingers. “You’re nothing but a shit-talking, spoiled prince with a big cock and nice hair,” you said, every muscle tingling with the desire raging through your veins. “You noticed,” Loki said with the twitch of an eyebrow: incorrigible, even in this position. “The hair, I mean,” he added. He didn’t mean the hair.

The god swept your forearm to the side, and your fingers ached immediately. How tight was I holding him? But there wasn’t time to wonder. His kiss slammed into you with the force of a storm, teeth clashing and his fingertips digging in to your scalp and the wet slide of lips across your own. “Loki,” you breathed, and he moaned into your mouth in response. You found yourself bucking against his hard body, grasping at everything and anything you could to be closer to him; to wind yourself so tightly to him that you though you might snap.

And then, your fingers were playing at his waistband. Loki drew back: eyes wild. “Really?” he asked, flushed and breathless. You stared at him, searching his eyes for any hint of ulterior motive, any sign he was about to pull the rug from under you. You gave a curt nod, and Loki’s expression rippled with surprise.

Your hands slid up the sides of his face, tangling in his hair. “You better make it good, considering you have a lot to make up for.” Loki snorted, “Please,” and then several things happened at once. Out of the corner of your eye, the door to the changing room glowed green around the crack. Loki shoved the waistband of his shorts down, scooping his cock in one hand while you fumbled with your leggings and send them skittering across the gleaming floor. “Norns,” Loki groaned as he cupped your breasts under the flimsy sports top, palming upwards. Beneath the bra, your nipples were hard as pebbles.

His brows peaked as his gaze rose from your chest to your face: a realisation that there wasn’t time for all that— all the filthy things you were beginning to realise he’d fantasised about. All the filthy thing you were beginning to accept that you’d fantasised about. “Maybe next time,” you muttered, pulling his hair-tie free in one sharp movement. A wicked smile unfurled on Loki’s lips.

He dipped, burying his face in your chest as he cupped the back of your thighs and you let out a gasp as he hoisted you upwards. Your legs folded around his hips, slick pussy flush to his stomach, sliding down the taut skin until you met the solid bar of flesh beneath.

“Oh, Agent,” he said in your ear, low and smooth, “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

You shoved his shoulder, but Loki’s fingertips sank into the soft curve of your ass, pushing you up so your slit hovered above the crown of his cock.

His eyebrow rose. “Last chance,” he said with a ladle of sarcasm.

Steadying one hand on his shoulder, you scraped the other through his hair, winding in a fist. You tugged, slowly…slowly, and Loki groaned, letting you sink onto his cock with every sharp ache pinching at his scalp. His thrusts weren’t like you imagined: selfish, primal, uncontrolled. If anyone was a Jackhammer —you’d always imagined it would be Loki. But his hips rolled like dough, undulating against you until your eyes rolled back and the rear of your skull cracked against the lockers. “Harder,” you sobbed quietly, nails digging into his back muscle. “Harder,” Loki groaned, his breath hot in the hollow of your neck. “Ruin me, Agent—I’m in your hands.” You dragged the nails deep against his skin: not enough to break blood, but close. Loki’s ragged breaths of pleasure made a new thrill swell between your legs, meeting his sloppy fucks like you were trying to beat him.

The fist wound in his hair yanked again, and again, and each time…the gods hips jolted. His thrusts were faster now— your moans higher— the rattle of the metal lockers and the squeak of rubber soles on tile making your mind swim. “Can I come?” he gurgled between rough exhales, and you pulled his face to yours. There was something in his eyes you’d never seen before—swimming in the whirlpool of blue. “No,” you said, and his head fell back to the ceiling. Loki’s veined cock tugged every inch of your walls as he pulled out, and buried in, stars bursting in your vision as climax began to shift and slide in the depths like a riptide.

Your legs spasmed against his hips, crossed ankles digging into the base of his spine, the grip on the god’s hair unbreakable. Biting back the urge to sob his name, you slammed your hips down to the root of his length, pulling Loki’s mouth to yours. His tongue massaged the syllables of his own name forming on your tongue, the rumble in your throat matching the one you could feel in the depths of his chest.

“Gods,” he choked when you broke, panting, riding your cunt in sloppy thrusts.

You could feel the slip of your cum between your thighs, and coating the length of his cock: and Loki could too. He looked at you with something a little like fear, one hand flying from your ass and steadying against the lockers.

“Can I—” he started, but before you could respond his knees buckled, wobbling as orgasm hit him like a train. Loki’s cry echoed around the changing room, the pained pleasure of his release making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Fuck: he was beautiful. And now...it was over. A sharp stab of sadness slipped between your ribs. The doorhandle shoogled violently. “Everything okay in there? Loki?” You and Loki’s eyes met. Steve was outside. And he wasn't alone. “What if he’s fallen? Jeepers, the floors are freshly waxed for crivven’s sakes—” “—will you calm down. I think Loki can handle himself on some polished floors,” Sam said dryly through the door. “—Bet that’s not the only thing that’s been polished,” Bucky replied, and even at a distance you could feel the heat building in Steve’s cheeks. “You’re disgusting—our comrade could be in peril. I don’t know what got into her.” There were a series of snorts, and several brisk knocks. “Yo, Laufeyson. You in peril in there?” Sam asked, and Bucky’s laugh followed. “Yes,” Loki whispered; brushing a sex-damp strand of hair from your cheek. His eyes searched yours, pinning you to the lockers as he lowered you to the floor. “I think I might be.”

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a job well done (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: long-term admirer, recent tutor — you find out eddie's failing gym. in an ode to help him, your expertise expands beyond just textbooks — to your fortune, he teaches you something you've been dying to learn too

contents: 18+, smut!!!, porn with plot, lots of ball action <3, oral (m receiving, mentions of f receiving), pet names and praise (baby, good girl), somewhat-inexperienced!eddie, tutor!reader an: i made an $8k mistake irl so heres 8k words that i wrote to forget about it (just kidding (not abt the mistake, that's very real) i started writing this in july 2023 but recently rewrote most of it to make it into a big ol' one shot-ish thing) wc: 8.5k

“You’re failing gym?” you gasp, jaw dropping as your eyes scan over his report.

“No!” he replies, trying to steal the envelope and its contents from your hands. You turn your body just in time for him to grasp at nothing but air. 

You started tutoring Eddie about a month into the semester. He’s been a willing participant for the most part and that’s why when he kept coming up with excuse after excuse for why he didn’t have his midterm report you knew something was up. 

You took it upon yourself to do some investigating. Nothing invasive, just when you got to his place for a regular tutoring session, you decided to look through his bag while he was in the bathroom. On his bedroom floor, filing through the bags endless messy contents, you eventually came across the familiarly coloured yellow envelope and helped yourself to a peek at what he was keeping a secret from you. 

Mere moments later, he was back. He immediately noticed what you had in your hands and crashed to the floor trying to get it away from you. Evidently, a failed attempt. 

“You have a — oh god, not just a D, a D minus, Eddie.” 

“That’s not failing,” he mumbles under his breath. You wave him off before dropping his report to the floor in front of you. He grabs it, crumples it into a ball, and petulantly tosses it to the other side of his room. 

“You never even told me you were taking gym.”

“Cause how’re you supposed to help with gym?”

“The tests! There’s a whole health portion, I could’ve been helping you with that,” you say, getting worked up over it. Eddie’s been doing so well, this was truly blindsiding.

“Yeah… cause I really want help from you with the health portion,” he grumbles sarcastically. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like it means,” he shrugs. 

If you weren’t paying attention, you might think he was angry — maybe even being mean. Luckily, you’re always paying attention to Eddie Munson, and you see the way his face flushes to a bright, crimson red. His annoyance is actually just embarrassment — which is good — at least he has some level of remorse for his failing grade. You can work with that. You take a breath, exhaling it slowly, forcing yourself to calm down. 

“Show me what you’re working on.”

“No,” he shakes his head, reaching into his bag, shuffling around some papers before tossing a heavy textbook your way. “Let’s just do math.”

“No, you have a B minus in math now, that doesn’t need help. You need help in gym.” you reply, tossing the textbook back at him. 

“I don’t.”

“Eddie, you do.”

Sitting up to your knees, you reach into his bag once more, taking out his binder and dropping it to the floor in a pointed thump. He mumbles some kind of disagreement, spine going stiff with his hesitancy to let you go through his stuff some more, but he doesn’t make any attempts to physically stop you. 

You flip through the disorganization that you’ve told him countless times to organize until you come across a diagram of a penis and a vagina. Bingo.

“Told you,” he mumbles, scoffing to himself. 

“Told me what?”

“Why would you want to help me study that?” 

“Uh— cause it’s part of your class and I don’t want you to fail,” you say matter of factly. “Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.” 

Bright red continues to flourish across his skin, affecting the apples of his cheeks all the way down to his throat. He turns bashful, eyes locking down on the carpet. 

Eddie’s shy — not often, but he is. You wouldn’t think so from the way he acts at school and in most public atmospheres, but get him in a room, one-on-one, and he’s all blushed cheeks and shy touches. It’s sweet and it’s one of your favourite things about him — but you don’t have time for sweet shyness right now. He’s failing gym for christ sake — gym.

“So, how do you want to do this?” you ask, slapping your hands to your thighs. Eddie startles, jolting before his wide eyes find yours. 

“Do what?”

“Study this,” you motion to the diagram on the floor separating the two of you.

“I— I’m not… we’re not—“

His eye contact goes rogue again, diverting anywhere else — everywhere else that isn’t you. Shy, shy, shy. Too shy. More shy than normal. And you have an inkling that it has to do with the subject of the conversation at hand. 

“Oh my god, Eddie. This is basic human anatomy. I think we’re grown up enough to handle a little penis and vagina,” you state, tacking on a laugh. 

You get a hint of Eddie's true personality beyond his shyness — it emerges through a quirk of his lip, the corner of it tweaking upwards into the hint of a smirk. 

“A little penis?” He parrots, his smirk fully emerging now. This boy.

“Cue cards? Should we do cue cards?”

He groans, body deflating. “You know I hate cue cards.”

“Okay, so let’s just go over the parts for now, then we can move on and do something else.”

You clear out a bigger area on the floor, making space for your study session. Eddie helps by kicking back stray articles of clothing and then picking out what looks like spilled weed from the carpet and collecting it in the palm of his hand. You’re a touch more productive, taping little pieces of paper over the diagram labels. When you’re done, you sit up admiring your work. Eddie stands, dropping his little handful of greenery onto his desk before sitting down on his bed. 

“Do you want to do it up there or down here?” You ask. 

The slight double entendre isn’t lost on you, you heard it before you even said it. Now knowing how shy Eddie is about this stuff, you couldn’t help but push your luck, and the blush that spreads across his cheeks makes it entirely worth it, especially while you deadpan and pretend you have no clue. 

“I’ll come down there—“ He says and you watch him physically recoil as his words set in. You resist your laughter. 

“Come, Eddie. Faster,” you tease, laughter starting to bubble up. A smile breaks through his embarrassment.

“Jesus Christ, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You like seeing me suffer?”

“Me? Teasing you on purpose? Never.”

With a shake of his head, he joins you on the floor, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Can we not do this, I already know this stuff.”

“Oh yeah? Eddie Munson is well versed in human anatomy?”

“I’m — I’m not going to answer that,” he crosses his arms. 

With a clap of your hands, you ignore his pouty demeanor. “Okay! Let’s just do this, the quicker you memorize everything the quicker we can not do this.”

With both of the diagrams set up, you give him the option of starting with the penis or vagina first. He chooses the easy answer, opting to go with the penis. 

One by one you point out each part of the penis, asking him for the anatomically correct name. You quickly understand why he’s failing. 

“Okay, and this one is…?”

“The head,” he states. 

“I mean… sure,” you nod hesitantly — “but the little arrow is pointing there — the glans. This one?”

You continue going through the chart, teaching Eddie the proper names for everything. When you finally graduate to the diagram of the vagina, Eddie is physically squirming in his spot. 

“Eddie, relax. Seriously. We’ve all seen a vagina before.”

“It’s so fucking hot in here, are you hot?” He groans, standing up and tripping his way to the window, slamming it open with a grunt. 

He’s barely made his way back before you have a thought.

“You’ve seen a vagina before, right?” 

He freezes — just for a moment, but you catch it. On his way to return to his spot on the floor he pauses, then continues moving as if you haven’t asked him a question. When he sits, you quirk a brow. 

“Yeah!” He answers. His voice tunes so high, it begs to crack.

You nod skeptically. You wouldn’t say he’s lying per se, but something seems off. Something that you’re interested in getting to the bottom of. 

“Let’s take a break, okay?” You offer.

“Yeah, a break’s, uh — good.” He exhales, letting out a breath of relief. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, fanning it in and out, getting some air flow on his skin. It’s very suspicious and you have to assume —

“So, you’ve never seen a vagina,” you say.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I have! I’m not a virgin.”

“You’re squirming like one.”

“I’m not!”

“There’s nothing wrong —”

“I’m not!” He says much louder, cutting you off. 

You believe him, seeing the full depth of sincerity in his amusedly large, and overly serious eyes. 

“Okay,” you nod.

“I’m not,” he insists once more, tone leaning towards stern. 

“I believe you, Eddie.”

The two of you sit quietly in your respective spots. You could busy yourself with getting some more studying stuff ready, but somehow — even though there was some verbal finality — this conversation doesn’t seem over. 

And with an inhale from Eddie, it’s not.

“I’ve just never been like…” he pauses, thinking, “I’ve just never been all up in there.” He makes a crude motion with his hands, both palms splayed out flat in your direction, moving outwards like he’s spreading something out. 

“You’ve never eaten a girl out before?”

“What are we doing?” He says, dropping his head into his hands, scrubbing at his cheeks with both palms. 

“You don’t have to answer. Seriously, if I’m really making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. Swear.”

His chest inflates with a deep breath, then his head pops up. “I have but only for like a minute, in the dark, parked outside of the hideout after a gig,” he confesses. You raise your brows, surprised.

“You work quickly. A minute, that’s impressive.”

“No… Jesus, no,” he winces. “I fucking wish. We got interrupted and… yeah she never wanted to hang out after.”

“Oh,” you hum. “That sucks.” You tilt your head at him, frowning apologetically. 

“Yeah. She, uh, I’m pretty sure she had a boyfriend but I didn’t know when we… yeah.” He concludes his confession with a shrug before sitting back to lean against the side of his bed. 

“That really sucks. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, tacking on a laugh. It’s not a nervous laugh. It’s genuine and you take his lack of nervousness as permission to continue the conversation. 

“So… Do you have a tactic?”

“Tactic?”

“Yeah. Like, most guys use the alphabet on the clit thing, which is awful by the way, don’t do that.”

“I think…” he raises his brows. “I think, maybe, just being overzealous is my thing. I don’t really know — I haven't done it enough to have a tactic.”

“Overzealous is good…” you nod, “as long as it’s strategic.”

Eddie meets your gaze. He’s intrigued — “Elaborate?” he asks. 

“Like, sure if you want to go to town and eat the pussy, go for it, but the only place it really counts is the clit — of course everything else is nice too, but the clit is definitely where it matters,” you nod to yourself, punctuating your statement. “And—” you add on, raising your hand, bringing together two of your fingers to mime the curling motions of getting fingered. “I like when they use their fingers too. It's a lot better like that.”

Eddie goes silent. He looks like he’s thinking, maybe even committing your words to memory— but it’s an odd look he has on his face. One you’ve never seen before from him.

“Sorry, did I say too much?” You laugh, trying to diffuse. Eddie looks at you, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

“Why the fuck are you tutoring me in going down on a girl right now?” He laughs. 

You smile, appreciating his amusement. Tilting your head boastfully, you accept his comment like a compliment. “Just a natural born teacher, I guess,” you tease. 

He nods, humming agreeingly. He doesn’t say anything more but you’ve got a handful of curiosities burning through your back pocket, and when in rome…

“Are we done with this conversation,” you ask, “or can we keep going ‘cause I might have a few questions for you?”

“Hasn't this whole conversation already been an interrogation of my experiences?”

“But this might be your only opportunity to teach me something, Edward.” You jet out your lower lip, pouting it, rounding your eyes at him — trying your best to keep this going. 

He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“Are you about to ask me if I can move my dick without my hands, because the answer is yes but it’s not full control.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, but very cool.”

“Sorry. That’s usually what girls ask.”

That has been a curiosity but your questions… your questions are much more… sophisticated? 

“So can I?” you ask. 

“Can you?”

“Ask you questions?”

He bites his lip, pointedly making you sweat it out. With a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Go for it.”

You sit up straighter, very pleased with his answer. 

“Balls,” you state. Eddie’s eyes widen immediately — you ignore the regret that flashes across his face. “Do you like them being touched? Every time I’ve done anything with them, the guy kind of, like, recoils and it feels like I did something wrong.” 

“Jesus…” he clears his throat with an awkward laugh. “You’re really going for the big questions, huh?” 

“The big questions?” You raise your eyebrows suggestively. 

“No, Jesus I’m not implying my balls are — holy shit. My balls are normal sized, that’s not what I meant.” He continues to laugh through his embarrassment, cheeks heating right back up to that very cute, bright, red colour. 

“I’m just teasing you, Eddie. I’m sure your balls are lovely and perfectly normal sized.”

He hums appreciatively but it gets stuck in his throat, coming out as a high pitched croak. He clears his voice, nodding as he raises a hand to the back of his neck, wringing it nervously.

“You don’t have to answer, but I would appreciate knowing,” you say, softly, sympathetic — leaning into apologetic. He nods again, and you can tell the gears are spinning in his head as he thinks over his answer. 

“They’re just… sensitive,” he swallows. “But… I do like them being played with, or sucked, or licked… or whatever.” 

His eyes focus on the far wall, not out of nervousness or shyness this time, but more like he’s giving his words some real thought. You appreciate it and wait patiently for him to continue. 

“I guess I would have to say that it’s personal preference, so ask?” he continues unsurely, eyes still focusing elsewhere. “I mean, no guy is ever gonna be mad if you ask to put their balls in your mouth — or… whatever you want to do with them.” He looks at you with wide eyes as he suddenly gets nervous again. You wave him off, letting him silently know that ‘balls in your mouth’ is not an offense to you.

“Could you cum from someone playing with your balls?”

“Holy shit,” he gasps, laughing. His hand that was wringing his neck drops to his lap in a heavy thud. At the same time, he brings up both knees, hugging them halfways to his chest as he mulls over his answer. “Um? Maybe? But, I think a big part of it is a visual thing — like, it adds to the hotness when they’re into the balls?” He finishes, adding an unsure inflection to the end of his remark. You nod, narrowing your eyes into a squint as you absorb what he’s saying. 

“So it doesn’t feel good?”

“It does,” he quickly corrects, “just anything on the head feels way better.” 

“Okay… good to know.” You nod, moving on. “And dirty talk. You really like that? Like, when the girl’s going on and on about your ‘big cock in her tight little pussy’, is it not weird?”

“Jesus, you really aren’t holding back with these questions.” He smiles through the blotchy redness growing down his neck all the way to the collar of his shirt.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” you promise, dipping your face lower to catch Eddie’s gaze. He holds it for a second, before letting his eyes roam the room. 

“Dirty talk is hot, obviously, but… it’s not when it’s rehearsed shit like that. It makes it feel like they’re performing — and maybe I’m just doing a piss poor job and they are performing — I don’t know, but I’d rather hear about what you actually like that I’m doing. Even if you’re telling me to go faster or harder or whatever. That’s fucking hot.”

“Alright, so be genuine. Cool,” you nod. 

“You done with questions?” He meets your gaze with raised brows for a fraction of a brave second before quickly looking away. 

The thing is, you’re not done. 

“So, hypothetically, if someone you didn’t like played with only your balls, and it wasn’t hot— like nothing about it was hot, would you still cum?”

He doesn’t give you the same surprised initial shock as he did with all the other questions. This time he just lets out a long, evenly staggered breath through puffed out cheeks. 

“I think…” He hugs his knees closer to his chest, rubbing both his palms along his shins quickly, filling the silence with the sounds of skin on denim. 

You can see the edge of his words in his expression, like he wants to say something but is holding it back. Whatever it is, you wait patiently — you do sit up a little straighter though, eagerly leaning inwards, listening with baited breath to his quiet, pensive hum.

His lips twitch, mouth opening then closing. With a loud exhale, he lets go of his shins, letting his knees drop from their upright position, and with that, his resolve breaks.  

“Fuck it” he curses — “Probably. Sometimes I think that the wind blowing the wrong way could make me cum. Like, I’m fighting for my fucking life to not get hard right now.”

He ends his speed-run confession with a pant, chest shallowly heaving with each breath. Excited wings beat inside your chest, dipping down to your belly as you absorb what he's just said to you. 

“Really?” you ask, blinking wide eyes at him. His breathing evens out, and he meets your gaze.

“Yeah,” he shrugs shyly — cutely.

“You know I like you, right?” 

His face falls. “What?” His brows press together, furrowing with confusion and you really don’t know how you could have been clearer about this whole ordeal.

“Eddie,” you smile. “I’ve told you like a million times that I like you — like earlier, I told you barely an hour ago before we got started.”

You said it quite plainly too; ‘Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.’ 

“Yeah, but I thought you meant as a… a person? Or a friend?”

You can’t help but laugh — not at him… well, a little bit at him, but this is just so ridiculous, how could he be so clueless. 

“I love my friends but I don’t think I would fill all my free time teaching them math and all the anatomical correct names of the different parts of the penis.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, they’re good people but that’s not exactly my idea of fun,” you tease. “Of course I’m serious, Eddie. So if you wanted to make a move… I wouldn’t be opposed.” 

At this point, after a confession as straightforward as that, you’d hope for movement — anything — even him getting closer to you, moving in for a kiss at the very least… but he stays sat in his opposite spot, his binder with the vagina diagram laid out flat, separating the both of you. 

Maybe you read this wrong — backpedal. 

“Did I just make this weird? Should I have not said that? I like tutoring you too, I don’t want you to think I’m expecting something from you just because I’ve been helping you.” You ramble apologetically, shrinking into yourself as you feel your whole body start to flush with icky embarrassment.

Eddie’s spine goes rigid as he sits up pin-straight, shaking his head emphatically.

“No! I like you too,” he interjects, leaning towards you, putting a hand on your knee. “Even before you started tutoring me.” 

“You do?” You sigh a breath of relief. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly, ignoring the whiplash that still has your stomach pinched in a half knot.

His voice gets soft with his confession — “Why do you think I didn’t want to sit around looking at penises and vaginas with you?” he laughs quietly,  “I was terrified of getting hard and scaring you away.”

The mention of him getting hard has your eyes flickering downwards for a split second. You can’t tell, but you tease him anyway — “And how’s that working out for you?”

“If you’re asking if I’m hard…” He trails off, smiling nervously, leaving you with a confirmed suspicion. 

“Should I make a move?” 

“Well, I’m not opposed.” He says it like it’s a joke — you know he’s being funny, breaking tension or whatever, but you don’t laugh. You perk up, tummy filling with fluttery feelings because that’s permission.

Permission to crawl the short distance between the two of you.

Permission to help yourself to his lap — pulling your skirt up high enough to straddle his upper thighs.

Permission to let your hands feel from his shoulders, down to his pecks. 

Permission to be this close to him — close enough that you can see every shy detail, every cute freckle, every nervous flutter of his lashes. 

Best of all — it’s permission for an intimacy you’ve been waiting for — longing for.

You sink yourself against him and — “Oh,” you gasp, “you weren’t kidding.” 

Through the thin cotton of your underwear, you feel the hard curve behind the zip of his jeans. It has you biting your lip, holding back your grin. 

His eyes coast your features, narrowing in on the tweaked up corners of your lips. He ghosts a quiet ‘yeah’, dipping his face downwards, hiding his own coy smile. 

You just won’t have that — you bring your hands to his cheeks, tilting his chin upwards, encouraging him to look at you. He lets you guide him, lets you wash your gaze over his features — lets you rake your eyes over every detail, even when his skin grows pink and you know he wants you to be looking anywhere else.

But you can’t help it. The rosy tint to his cheeks looks too warm, too inviting. His lips are just too pink, too bitten. And most of all, his eyes have become too deep, too capturing, especially when the usual gold in his brown has resolved to being just the thinnest ring, glinting and shimmering around absorbing black orbs.

“Your eyes are really dark right now,” you observe aloud. 

“Yeah?” He asks and you nod your head. You watch him as he lets his own gaze search your face. He swallows, coming to his own conclusion. “You just looked amused.”

You smile. You are amused but — “I’m not just amused.”

“No?” 

“I’m also really turned on.” You feel it in your belly, multitudes of warm winged flutters, sitting low, radiating heat throughout your whole body. You lean in closer, watching intently as his brows rise, moving to hide beneath his bangs as he processes your second confession of the evening.

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

He swallows thickly, and that golden ring in his eyes gets the faintest bit thinner.

“I do.”

You sit more comfortably, bringing your hands back to his chest and letting your bum press fully to his thighs. He lets out a near silent groan as your front sinks to his and when you adjust your hips, his hands dart to your sides, holding you tightly. 

“First,” you smile, batting your lashes at him. “I’m thinking about kissing you.” A soft swoon washes over Eddie's face, eyes turning soft for you. His eyes blink down to your lips, but you have more to say. “I’m also thinking about your balls in my mouth.”

The softness steps back, shock taking over. “Jesus christ,” he curses yet again, drawing out each syllable in a low groan. 

“And since I’ve been sitting here, I can’t help but think about how your cock would feel inside of me.”

“Fuck.” He meets your gaze, eyes rounding, jaw going slack. His chest begins to rise more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier. 

The feeling of him between your legs is undeniable now — he’s hard, very hard, uncomfortably hard. You let your hands slide up his chest, to his shoulders, letting your fingertips graze along the warm skin of his neck. He blinks heavily, eyelids growing weighted, swarming with evident lust. It makes you excited, makes you want more. 

You lower your voice to a breathy whisper, leaning in closer, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear.  “How’s the dirty talk, Eddie? Am I doing good?” You purr. His fingers pinch into the flesh at your sides as you shift once again, rolling your hips just enough to feel that hint of pleasure between your thighs. 

Eddie stifles his moan. “S– so good. You’re doing so g-good,” he stutters. His breath hitches as you press a kiss to the edge of his jaw, and then another, moving downwards to his neck. 

“What are you thinking about?” You pull away, looking at him through your lashes. You barely have a second to react before his hands are on your jaw, tugging you into him. 

It catches you off guard at first as his lips mash to yours. It’s entirely overzealous, bidding his earlier statement true by multiple definitions. It’s not terrible, but it is desperate. 

Flattening a heeding palm to his chest, you pull away just the slightest bit, letting your lips faintly graze his. 

“Slowly, Eddie.” you whisper. 

His interrupted desperation manifests as a quiet huff against your lips. Regardless of how hard he is beneath you, and how badly he wants to mash his mouth to yours, he nods, noses bumping together as he does.

This time you lean in. You guide the kiss, moving slowly, tenderly, and he follows your lead, moving gently, catching on quickly. Your upper lip presses between both of his and it's so delicate, so earnest, that it makes your heart thrum. It's exactly what you needed, and you reward Eddie with a quiet hum, letting your hands wrap behind his neck, pressing your chests together. 

His breath fans over your skin as he hums back, letting his hands glide to your lower back, hugging you closer. His lips massage yours, slowly, and he takes his time, letting you melt into him entirely. 

When you feel the pressure of his tongue licking across your lower lip your anticipation really sets in. You open your mouth, rolling your hips upwards as you move in closer to him. With a huffed, eager grunt, and with fingers kneading bruises into your skin, he licks into your mouth completely contradictory to it all, still giving you softness in the kiss. You’re elated by it all, swept up, enraptured by him being so sweet to you.

You sigh breathily as you have to pull away. 

“That was really good,” you fawn, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. You let out another sigh, smiling contently to yourself. You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time — really too long, if you’re being honest. 

Eddie hums an agreement. You intend to go further than just a kiss, but you give yourself a moment to bask in it all. Just a moment, that’s all you need. 

And in the next moment, with your wits gathered, you wiggle your hips. Eddie’s palms press tightly against your back and he lets out a sharp gasp that melds into a whimper. You giggle a quiet apology. 

“Too much for you?” you tease.

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, his warm cheek pressing to yours. “M’just really hard right now.”

He is — you can feel it, and you can feel the mess growing between your own thighs. 

A simple solution; you hint at rolling your hips another time. It’s hardly any friction, just testing the waters. You’re surprised when Eddie pulls you inwards, guiding your hips, encouraging you to move. He lets out a low groan as the squish of your thighs pass over his length, one that you hardly register over your own gasp as you get your first real hint of pleasure.

With his help, you build a slow rhythm, grinding to the curve in his denim, one that has your eyes fluttering shut and Eddie tensing, letting out meak whimpers and low moans. It's nice, it really is, but as nice as it feels for you, you weave a hand between the two of you, suggestively placing it on the buckle of his belt.  

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Yes,” his voice comes out as a heaved breath. Very eager to continue.

“After you cum, how long does it take for you to get hard again?”

“Sh-shit — it depends. Sometimes —” he swallows thickly and you hear the gulp in his throat — “sometimes it’s barely a few minutes.”

“I want to try out what you taught me, but I want you to fuck me too.”

“We can — yeah we can do that.” His voice wavers as he bites back his excitement, trying to play it cool. Despite that, you feel the overzealousness in his pants, twitching with enthusiasm. 

You press a chaste kiss to his lips before scooting back on his legs, weaving your hands between the two of you to pop open his belt. Just as you unweave the leather and toss the heavy buckle to the side, holding the button under your thumb, Eddie’s hand meets your waist — not stopping you, just getting your attention. 

“Can I…” he starts. You look up at him, pausing your movement. He continues, “can I try what you told me too?” His eyes barely meet yours, growing bashful all over again. 

“Of course you can,” you say sincerely. You finish unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down while leaning in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t gotta be shy, Eddie. I like you already, a lot.” 

He nods, but you can still see a hint of cautiousness in his expression. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. I want you to be comfortable with me. Anything you need, anything you want, you can tell me.” 

He nods. His mouth mulls for a moment, but he nods a second time, assumedly coming to a conclusion. “Can we move up to the bed?” he asks. 

“I’d like that,” you smile and he smiles back.

Just as you lift your leg to get off him, you let out a surprised yelp as he does the bravest thing he’s done yet, both hands grabbing firmly at your bottom, tugging you into him and up as he pushes himself off the floor. He moves the both of you up to the edge of the bed with one strong flex of his legs and your stomach swirls with the rush of it all. 

From there, it's a giggling tussle of limbs, him pulling you up the bed, you pulling his pants off. Eventually, you both settle, him pantless, sitting with his back to the wall where his headboard should be, and you, by his side, knees pressing to his thigh. Your fingers wiggle with excitement as you take the thin cotton of his boxers, lacing them just under the waistband. 

You shimmy in your spot, shaking your hips, letting out a happy hum as you begin to pull them down. Your belly fills with good nerves, butterflies, and your mouth salivates. When you get them down as far as you can without his help, he silently chimes in, lifting his hips, hooking his own thumbs into the material. With a quiet humph, the fabric passes his length, freeing it to bob against his shirt-covered belly. 

Tempestuously red. Furiously flushed. Severely erect. Poor Eddie. Happy you. His tip is blushed to a deep crimson, glistening with the pearlescent sheen of precum. It has your body flushing hot everywhere — from your cheeks all the way south to where you grind yourself down onto the backs of your heels just to feel a pinch of salvation. 

Somewhere between where your ogling started and where you had to physically swallow the gathering saliva in your mouth, his boxers got discarded entirely, your own shirt disappearing along with them — because it is just so hot all of a sudden.  

If you weren’t completely blinded by your impeding tunnel vision, you would have seen the way Eddie gawked at your newly revealed skin, absorbing every inch, taking in every feature to your body. You would have seen the way his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and the fresh cherry red blush spread to his cheeks. You would have seen the way he had to forcefully peel his eyes away from your chest when he felt your fingers press into his bare thighs as you situated yourself between his legs. But you didn’t have a chance to notice all of those details, not when you felt the thrilling thrum of anticipation bubbling up in your bloodstream. 

“You ready, Eddie?” You ask, grinning at him. He blinks slowly at you, no answer, making your smile falter.

“You look pretty,” he blurts out, much to your delight. “Really pretty. All the time — not just now because you're about to — you’re just beautiful, s’what I want to say.”

“Thank you,” you say, pleasantly surprised. Eddie on the other hand, cringes at his own rambling, face scrunching in defeat. You like him even more for it — “I think you’re beautiful too, Eddie,” you smile. “And not just because I have your pretty cock in front of me.” 

Eddie huffs a soft laugh and you gleam, pleased with yourself. 

With actual consent, you take him in your hand. Gentle at first, easing him into your touch. Just barely grazing your thumb over the tip, you smear the slick precum around, before sinking your fist to his base. He lets out a tensed moan, exhaling — exhilarating. That quiet, throaty noise has you lighting up, already feening for more.

Leaning down further, arching your back, you gather your saliva in your mouth before letting it spill out in a single string over the tip of his needy head, falling down just to be caught by the upwards rise of your fist. This time he sucks in a sharp breath and you live for it. 

Closing the distance between your mouth and his cock, you lick the tip gently, pressing your tongue to the river of precum that sits in the curves of his slit, relishing in the saltiness that makes your mouth water effortlessly. You hum, feeling the pulse between your legs grow deeper, more intense. You push your hips back, angling them, searching for any sort of relief. 

While it doesn’t satiate the need between your thighs, Eddie notices your squirm, and brings a splayed palm to your side, letting it curve to your skin. It settles in, warming you, encouraging you to distract yourself in such a beautiful way by taking him into your mouth. 

You let your tongue swirl. Flick. Caress. Your lips graze before closing, and you suck. Cheeks hardly hollowing, the noise he lets out makes you want to keep being gentle — draw this out, make this last. 

But like a devil on your shoulder, you want to skip forward. You want his balls in your mouth, that’s the guise of this whole encounter, isn’t it? To practice what he’s taught you.

Jumping right to the chase, abandoning his desperately swollen cock, doesn’t strike you as the way to go about this, so you continue to be gentle. Pulling off the tip, kissing him up and down his length. Pressing your lips where needed and drawing circles and lovey hearts across his skin with the pointed angle of your tongue.

It's not fruitless. Every noise, every groan, every heavy breath, pleading whimper, fills you up. It fills you up until it has you leaning your body into his hand on your rib cage, needing to feel him wherever you can, while taking him fully into your mouth. Swallowing him down, deeply hollowing your cheeks, gliding your lips and flattening your tongue until your nose presses to the wispy patch of coarse hair at his base. 

“Fuck— fuck.” Eddie groans through a strangled breath. 

His hand leaves your ribs and you whimper at the loss, only to be reunited with the physical contact as he takes hold of your head with both of his hands, pulling you up. You whine, chest collapsing with defeat. You pout as soon as his cock leaves your mouth. Looking up at him, he looks worked up and frayed — all a shivered mess — but eyes sincerely apologetic as he catches your disappointment. 

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He pants heavily, catching his breath while you catch your own. Your pout lessens, and instead, your pride sets in. You did that to him. 

Wiping your gathered tears, you place a tentative hand on his length, watching him for any protests. His head knocks back into the hard wall, but he never loses sight of you, now looking down the angular slope of his nose, watching with amorous, lusting eyes. 

You dip down, reapproach, but this time you give into your own desire, indulging yourself.

Lifting his cock, you nose down his length. His eyes turn wide, but still, no protests.

“Can I put your balls in my mouth?” You ask, doing just as he told you to do, embellishing your simple sentence with pleading, fluttery lashes and persuasive, pinched together brows. 

His lips press into a purse as he swallows, and then they part with approval. “Yes,” he says. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plump bottom lip, and you can’t help but smile up at him. 

Appreciation sits on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it, you show it. Bowing your face low, you lick up the centre of his sack, flattening your slow moving tongue with an oath of sincerity — this makes you burn. For a moment, you believe that you’d be content if this was for you and you only, but then you meet his gaze, and you see the way he burns too.

His eyes devour you — your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb barely touching index, your chin settled deep between his thighs. You burn identically and it makes the swirl of butterflies in your stomach rise high, beating heavily in your chest. You get lost for a moment, but a thumb on your cheek, sweetly swiping softly against your skin, brings you right back.

“Pretty girl,” he hums. 

You tilt your head, nuzzling into his grip, humming a tender thank you. His thumb swipes again, just under your eye before settling behind your ear, sitting there with no intention but to be tethered to you.

It’s sweet, and you return the gesture, pressing two kisses, one to each side. You shift your focus, returning back to the moment.

Head still partially in the clouds, you do something daring without thinking, and you suck one of his balls into your mouth. Eddie lunges forward, bending at the waist, nearly folding in half as his stomach tenses harshly. He whimpers, and you pull back immediately.

“Sorry!” You shift, looking at his contorted expression. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

He quickly relaxes himself, patting your cheek as he settles, unclenching his thighs that had tightened at your sides.

“No — no.” He shakes his head, catching his breath “Do it again.” He gently guides you back down. “I was just distracted, caught me off guard,” he explains.

Distracted like you were. You understand, and you let him guide your face back down. 

This time you’re careful. With his eyes on you, you start again, licking, feeling the silky skin with your tongue as you gauge his reaction, peering up at him through your lashes. He nods, and you carefully take him into your mouth, letting your tongue roll cautiously along the velvet skin. 

You’re careful not to do too much, but you grow more confident when you see the way his mouth falls open with his own appreciation. 

“Fuck,” he exhales. “Just like that. Good girl,” he praises, groaning as you suckle delicately. His cock jumps in your loose fist, reminding you just how long it's been since you’ve paid it any attention. Tightening your grip, you run your fist up, then down languidly, multitasking in a way that has Eddie gaping, jaw slack, mouth parted wide, eyes owlish and filled to the brim with heated astonishment. 

With your mouth, you switch to his other side, doing the same, rolling your tongue exploringly, seeing what has his stomach tensing and noises pulling from his lungs. 

As you let your thumb run over his leaking head, he lets out a throaty groan. His thighs tense around you once more, but instead of backing away, you lean into it, embracing the new-found way to make him squirm. 

His breathing quickly becomes rapid as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking more confidently, and pulling away every now and again to press deserved kisses. Your fist moves quicker, focusing on the tip — purposeful, as you remember what he taught you. 

You suck, and glide your hand in smooth strokes, over and over, showing him just how much you like him. If he didn’t believe you before, he has to now. 

With a strong, devoted rhythm built, the skin against your tongue eventually begins to pull taut. He throbs in your hand. You know before he says anything, even before his hand can flex its grip on your cheek. You pull away, letting him fall from your mouth with a quiet pop. He lets out a worn sigh of relief as you sever the threads of spit from your mouth to his balls and shift, moving back to his wired-up cock, twitching at just the sensation of your breath on his over-flushed tip.

Rearranging yourself, you sink your fist, moving it low to his base, and then you adjust, moving your hand to cradle his balls in your palm. His stomach flexes and he lets out a pitiful whimper — he's so close, even while you're barely touching him.

“Please,” he rasps through a strained breath. 

You have nothing but appreciation for the man in front of you, reduced to pleading. You want nothing more than to satisfy him.

Gentle, a thing of the past. You take his cock in your mouth deeply. Swallowing his thickness down, taking him as far as he fits, pressing him to the very back of your throat. Your eyes water, and you breathe heavily through your nose, never once forgetting to massage him in your hand.

His chest heaves, and his fingers weave their way into the hairs at the base of your neck, tugging — communicating. His helpless moans draw out, getting longer and deeper, drawing out each and every flutter in your belly, adding to your fire. 

You can’t believe you’ve been sitting around, tutoring him, teaching him math when you could have been doing this. This is much better — much, much more fulfilling. 

You rise and fall, bobbing quickly, and he encourages you, helping you find the pace that brings him to his edge. He swells in your mouth, and draws upwards in your hand. You hum, encouraging him to let go.

“I’m gonna —” he tries to speak, but a rogue whine cuts him off. He sucks in a sharp breath — “I’m cumming, I’m —” Panic invades his voice as his grip in your hair turns harsh, pulling, stinging your scalp. You hum again, and then you feel the spill. 

The warmth of his cum invades the back of your throat, loading your senses with the distinctly musky taste and a bitter-flavoured swell of sweetness in your chest. Pleased, you swallow it down, and ask for more with the purse of your lips on his overworked tip. His hips buck up into you as you happily swallow everything you can, lapping it up with your appeasing tongue. 

His body relaxes until you don’t stop. Then he’s flexing again, sucking in harsh, gasp-like breaths, using his hands in your hair to guide you away from his over-sensitive cock. 

Both his palms cup your cheeks and you rise, straightening out your spine, walking your knees up the mattress to be closer to him. His hand falls to your knee, encouraging a bend, welcoming you back into his lap. You happily take a careful seat on his thighs. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gushes unapologetically. 

His body slouches into the mattress, but he continues to beakon you forward. You follow his weak, weary pull and he guides you to his lips, attaching his mouth to yours in a lazy kiss. His beholden tongue greets yours, unaffected by the lingering flavour of his seed that coats your lips and mixes with your spit. He devours it gratefully. 

“That was —” he starts, pulling away just to peck your lips again — “So, so— I don’t even have words.” His hand slides loosely across the expanse of your bare waist as he presses a frenzy of chaste kisses to your lips, making you giggle.

“I did good? I thought I hurt you for a minute.”

“No— shit, you did so good, baby.” Eddie hums, fondly pressing his cheek to yours as he hugs you closer.

You feel his praises blaze at something inside of you, thrumming through your bloodstream, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t highlight your own neediness, the one left abandoned between your thighs. 

Despite the restlessness that grows in your twitching hips, you try to relax, focusing on the sentimental feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, letting your body slink into his, fitting seamlessly against him until his breathing returns to a steady rate. You patiently wait for him to make the next move — especially after him letting you lead most of this evening. 

Just as you’ve let your eyes flutter shut, resting them for a peaceful moment, a kiss to your shoulder has your excitement kicking up in your lower belly, waking up those warm, winged creatures once again. He presses another kiss, and then another, following the slope of your shoulder. Down the curve, to your collarbone, high on your chest, kiss after kiss until his lips meet the plumpness of your breast that spills over the cups of your bra.

The swell of your breast, across, to the centre, his lips find your sternum, and you keen into it, unafraid of coming off as desperate. 

It’s barely anything, just innocent pecks, but it has you impatient, tilting your head back, curving your body to offer up more skin to him. He hums a warm tone, affectionately following the path of your sternum, nosing his way down your cleavage, sighing a deep, warm breath against your skin, adding a few extra heated degrees to your body temperature — you thank him with a breathy moan.

His hands move to your sides, tickling along your flesh, leaving goosebumped skin in their path as he traces along the band of your bra, fingertips gliding until they meet the clasp.

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip as he finger paints small swirls along your spine. You push yourself closer, needing more.

And he gives you more. The band tightens around your ribs as he finds the edge, and you hold your breath.

One clip comes undone easily, granting you a hint of relief. Two follows, leaving just the third hook stuck standing between you and the promise of pleasure.

Then he stops — worse actually — he doesn’t just stop, he completely abandons the clasp on your bra as his head pops up, nearly clipping the edge of your jaw. He pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head to his shoulder.

It surprises you, making your heart pound for an entirely different reason.

“What—” you begin, but his heedful palm spreads across the plain of your upper back, halting your question, making you pause. Unsure and curious, you turn your face, pushing against his grip on you, trying to see what’s wrong.

His face is contorted into a flat, focused look as his eyes fixate on the closed door of his room. You’re totally confused by what has pulled his attention, but then you hear a clatter from the living room of his trailer. You turn to look at Eddie. 

His eyes pinch shut with disappointment. “No,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder in defeat. 

“Is that —”

“My fucking uncle,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Oh,” you say quietly, trying to fight the unresolved neediness of your body from turning you into a slouching ball of disappointment.

“He's not supposed to be home yet,” he groans, and it comes out huffed, like he's annoyed, but you know it's not directed at you. Part of you is relieved to hear that upset edge in his voice, because you know how easy it would be for most boys to shrug it off when they already got what they needed.

His palm swipes across your back, rubbing it in a soothing way before he pulls away, finding your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. 

You shrug, it's not like this is his fault. “It’s okay,” you promise. 

“It’s not.”

You smile. “It is,” you say, delighted by his sincerity. “This just means we’ll have to pick up where we left off another day.”

“But you didn’t get to cum.”

True but — “I still had fun.”

He dips his face, chin bowing downward, bitten lips jetting out with his generous empathy. “I’m sorry,” he says again, and you giggle at his niceness. He might be more upset than you are, and you love it.

“Eddie, you know me,” you grin. “You said I did a good job, and there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of a job well done,” you beam, and you’re very pleased when you get a good chuckle from Eddie.

“Next time?” He proposes with a raised brow.

“Next time,” you agree.

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merci buckets hope you liked if you did make sure to hit! that subscribe button and leave a like down below (aka comment and reblog <33333)

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“Bucky’s the winter soldier again!!!!! He’s shooting with his left hand!!! He only uses his left when he’s the winter soldier!!!!!”

I present to you:

Captain America: The First Avenger

Captain America: Civil War

And

Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Fictober Day 2

Prompt:

“Maybe I love you a little bit too much.”

Aziracrow, angst

Crowley thought that they'd have a chance, he really did. But the moment the words ‘I forgive you’ left Aziraphale's mouth, he knew it was over.

“Don't bother.”

The rest is history, but what happened after? He drove off. And for the first time, the radio was silent.

The next few months were miserable. He never even raised his voice at his plants. One night, he got low. He prayed.

He secretly hopes Aziraphale hears him, hopes that maybe, just maybe, he'll come back.

“I thought it'd be me and you, side by side, angel.” He cries out, hand feebly holding onto a bottle of whiskey. “For eternity. You gave me hope, angel. Something I haven't felt for millennia. Maybe I love you a little too much, but I'll never let you go.”

Afterwards, Crowley swore he heard Aziraphale's voice, but when he called out, he never got a response.

“Oh, Crowley. You'll always have my heart.”

Fictober Day 1

Prompt:

"Im not begging you to stay."

"Why not?"

Stucky, angst, post-endgame

Prompt from:

Tumblr

Creative Writing Prompts

Writing Prompts Sideblog by agirlnamedjana/ same on Wattpad. 68 asks in inbox. Search for "writing...

“Don't do anything stupid ‘till I get back.”

“How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky responds, giving Steve his best smile as he pushes down the feeling of abandonment.

But Steve notices. He always does.

“Buck? You alright?” Steve asks, hand on Bucky's shoulder. Bucky swallows down the lump in his throat, shaking his head as he glances away.

“Its nothin’, Steve. Go get your girl. You owe her a dance, after all.”

Steve scoffs, shaking his head.

“You're upset I'm leaving, aren't you?”

Bucky nods and shrugs his shoulders. “Like I said. Its nothin’. I'm not gonna… I'm not begging you to stay, Steve.”

“Why not?”

That question sends chills down Bucky's spine, his thoughts pausing. But he pushes it down, ignoring the feeling that maybe he should beg for him to stay.

“Why should I?” He asks defensively. “That wouldn't be fair to you, man. You deserve to have a nice life. Who am I to prevent that?”

Bucky scoffs, glancing down at the ground, hair hanging in his face.

“After all this time, you're just gonna abandon me, Steve. What happened to ‘til the end of the line’?” His voice cracks, but he keeps going, his words barely whispers.

“Is this the end of the line?”

Those words send a chill down Steve's spine. He has to take a moment, his eyes wide as he stares at Bucky, comprehending his words.

“Buck-”

Bucky cuts him off with a shake of his head.

“Don't. Don't pity me. Don't stay just because you feel bad, Steve. I'm just dead weight. Leave me behind. You don't need me. No one does or ever will. You're not the scrawny Brooklyn kid in the alleys any more, afterall.”

Steve stares at him, heart pounding. “Bucky, don't say that about yourself. I-I'm sure you'll find a nice girl, settle down. You'l find someone who needs you, I promise.”

“But thats just it, Steve.” Bucky says, looking up at him, voice broken, eyes hardened. “I need you. I love you, Steve. I don't want no nice girl. I want you. Its always been you.”

Oh. The realization hits Steve like a shock of lightning, pieces clicking together in his mind as he thinks back on the old days, when it was just him and Bucky.

The way Bucky would always look at him like he hung the moon. Or how he remembered even the simplest things about him, things no one else did. Or how his eyes lit up everytime he walked into the room. It explains it all.

“Bucky, I-”

Steve scrambles for words, heart shattering. *How could he have not known? Is it too late?*

“James. Look at me, man.” He says, fingers reaching out to cup his cheek, Bucky's eyes widening at the gesture. “I never thought… I never thought you liked me like that. I was just that scrawny kid you took care of. Plus, at that time, it wasn't exactly sociable acceptable, now was it?”

Bucky shakes his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Nah, it wasn't.”

“Exactly. So I brushed it off, Buck. I found someone I liked. I tried to ignore the feelings I had for you. That I still have for you.”

Bucky's breath hitches, eyes widening.

“I'll stay, Buck. Just promise me one thing.” Bucky nods at Steve's words, eyes on his.

“Don't keep somethin’ like this from me again.”

3. “Bite her Hip”

Nancy Wheeler x Fem!Reader

꒰Caught + Hate Sex꒱ - 1.8k

• enemies, some plot, getting caught masturbating, mutual fingering, cursing each other out while fucking, mean!Nancy, mean!Reader

kinktober m.list

The assumption that Nancy Wheeler was a priss was not wrong, not in your eyes at least. She was self centered, stuck up, and generally unlikeable with how she treated your friends. They always eventually warmed back up to her even after she treated them horribly. The catch with you is that you did not. You had no need or want to be her friend and you made that known.

Sure, when Vecna tries to cross into your world you help save each other, but that means nothing. You only spoke to each other when you needed to and that was precisely the only reason why you two were currently talking. Being the sharpshooters of the group you two often were paired together to stop whatever monster was hunting you down this time.

Now, with the end of the world, you were forced to hole up in a dilapidated cabin on the outskirts of Hawkins. Calling it a cabin was a stretch of the word. You would have preferred Hopper’s cabin with the man made, mind flayer made, skylight. However, this was on the other side of town where the two of you stayed, communicating with the group over walkies and keeping an eye out of your own. God knew you couldn’t trust the military, so why not guard the town on your own?

The kids went to school, hell, you should have been in college now, but this was a joint effort. No matter how much you hated Nancy, the pair of you were in it together. Once a week you got visits from the others, switching visitors out to keep them in low numbers to not to draw attention. It made things…interesting. 

By now the loud arguments had mostly died out, but the petty arguments stayed. Things were still escalated by the quiet, an everlasting tension between the two of you though. You would be lying if part of the anger didn’t come out of horniness. Could you blame yourself? You had been stuck here for months without so much as being able to masturbate.

To say you were backed up wouldn’t be an understatement. Yes, Nancy had a boyfriend for a bit but Jonathan was…Jonathan, so yeah she was backed up in the sex department now too. Both of you were at odds, so worked up yet never daring to tell the other person. So what else did you do but calculate how many minutes Nancy took on patrol so you could finally get off?

It was a short amount of time, but you had been so worked up that you were sure you could also finish just as quickly. The moment Nancy was out the door you were stripping yourself of your pants and underwear. Rationally, you should have at least kept them near you, but you were deliriously horny, only thinking clearly enough to put a towel under your hips. The mere thought of being able to finger yourself had you wet all morning, not wanting to leave evidence behind.

As you sat back on the bed two of your fingers sweeping through your folds to gather the arousal that had long pooled there, coating them in your warm slick. You didn’t have to work yourself up to easily push your fingers into your pussy. The relief was immediate, a huff leaving your lips when you crooked your two fingers up, petting the warmth of your walls. Your other hand slid down your stomach to part your folds, rubbing at them as you slid your fingers out.

Strings of arousal kept them connected when you spread your ring and middle finger apart. Pressing them together again, you thrust the tips back in quicker this time, the middle finger of your other hand finding your clit. You pressed down, drawing tight circles on the bud as you started to thrust your fingers in and out.

Your moan bounced off the room, drawing the attention of Nancy who had just made it back home. Her patrol hadn’t even begun when she could barely make it off the property due to leaving her jacket back in the cabin. Nancy’s brows furrowed, pressing against the wall of the open door. The slick sounds of your cunt let her know what you were doing.

Her eyebrows met together as she whirled around the corner, seeing your legs spread, fingers deep in your cunt. “Are you kidding me!?” Nancy’s shrill voice shattered your pleasure. “On the bed!” You groaned out of annoyance, dropping your head back onto the flat pillows. “Why aren’t you on patrol?” Your legs fell down from having your feet planted on the bed, knees knocking together.

Nancy circled the bed, folding her arms. “I needed my jacket,” she stated bluntly. Rolling your head to the side, you smiled sarcastically. “Then get it and leave.” Stubbornly, Nancy wanted to stay. “No.”

“No?” You snorted, pressing on. “Are you going to stand there and watch me?” Nancy scrunched her nose up, looking at you down the bridge of it. “What? No!” She insisted, while she stood over the side of the bed. “It’s not my fault you’re using our bed to..to…” A laugh answered her, your grin getting under her skin.

“To finger myself? Hey, I have needs.” The feeling of you leaking over your fingers became harder to ignore, the smell of your arousal filling the air. “So do I.” Nancy shot back. You tilted your head, mocking her. “So do something about it.” The words settled in her brain and she jerked back. “Right here?”

“Right here, right now.” The urge to fight her swiftly blurred into the urge to fuck her. Nancy’s brows raised in shock, subconsciously taking a step closer to the mattress. Her knees pressed into the plush of it, her eyes trained on your face. “Really?” You nodded, leaning back as you spread your legs again.

Her eyes instantly flicked to your hand nestled between your legs. On shaky feet, Nancy stepped out of her shoes, working her skirt down before crawling onto the bed. “I can’t believe you did this on our bed,” she grumbled, sitting next to you. You pulled your sticky fingers out of your cunt turning to sit up. Wrapping your fingers around the hem of her underwear, you unceremoniously pulled them down.

Nancy huffed, “No insults?” You looked up at her, arms wrapping around her waist to hoist her onto your lap. “Shut up, I’m not going to insult your cunt.” Nancy’s nose wrinkled once more at your vulgar words, but she couldn’t hide the way she throbbed, not with your eyes trained on her mound. A familiar heartbeat appeared in her pussy when your thighs moved apart, prying hers apart in the process. 

“I’m honored,” she snarked. “You should be,” you bit back, hand sliding over her hip and ass. Using the angle, you pulled her up your lap till she was toppling into you. “Careful.” Nancy scoffed in response to you, straightening herself out. 

“Oh shut up, you’re the one who yanked me forward.” You shrugged, using the closeness to slide your hand the rest of the way to her pussy. Your fingers rubbed up and down, barely dipping between her flushed lips as she shuddered. “Are you going to get to work?”

Propping your other elbow to the side, you tilted your head, looking up at her sardonically. “Give me a second.” Her grumbles only amused you as she slipped her hand between your legs, laying her palm on your cunt. “Come on.” You grunted, hips moving forward as you hooked a fingertip on her entrance.

Nancy sighed shakily, curling two fingers to press into your velvety walls. You sighed, fingers pressing into her as well. For a beat silence fell between you two, your fingers starting to scissor in her cunt. Nancy moaned, leaning forward as you fingered her.

“Shit..” Nancy exhaled. Your lips parted in surprise, “Did miss priss just curse?” Her fingers hooked suddenly to the side causing you to jolt with a sharp moan. “Careful.” She threw your words back in your face, her fingers relaxing to follow your movements. Each time your fingers swirled in her cunt or rubbed against her sensitive walls she would copy the movement with her own fingers.

You learned her pattern, starting to quickly thrust your fingers in and out. The heel of your palm smacked against the end of her slit, cream making her pussy obscenely loud. Nancy moaned, head rolling back as she sped up, mouth perpetually open.

Your chuckle was suddenly easy on her ears as your fingers were buried knuckle deep in her. “Is that all you needed? To get fingered so you’d chill the fuck out. Guess you aren’t a prude, just a horny, frigid bitch.” Nancy’s hips hit your thighs as she started to bounce, her fingers giving you punishing curls. “Guess you aren’t so much a bitch but a slut,” she argued.

The argument didn’t even make sense but you had to fill the silence with something else than the squelches of your cunt drooling over her fingers. “At least I’m a thoughtful one. I put a towel under me.” You grinned up at her as she finally looked down at you.

Without dignifying you with a response, Nancy leaned down and smashed your lips together. Taking your surprise in stride, she bit your bottom lip desperately. You whined, walls clenching around her. “Oh fuck.” You grunted, surging forward to tug her lower lip into your mouth.

You sucked on it harshly when her thumb found your clit. As she stimulated it, you haphazardly continued ramming your fingers up, hitting her sweet spot with every thrust. “Such a bitch,” you huffed, hurtling towards the edge.

The vitriol energy filled the room again as you both neared finishing. “Slut,” she responded. “Cunt.” “Tramp.” A second later your free hand was gripping into her hip. “I’m going to-“ “Me too,” she whined. Both of your pussies tensed, spasming as you came at the same time.

Your open mouths bumped into each other, breaths being exchanged as you moaned in tandem. “Ohmygosh!” Her voice cracked, lips seeking yours out. You pressed your lips to hers, slowing down, gently rubbing inside of her. Compared to you, Nancy’s fingers stilled entirely allowing you to lay down and roll onto your sides.

Nancy panted, cunt fluttering around your finally still fingers. “That was…” You closed your eyes, “Don’t talk.” It was half-joking, earning a sharp glare from Nancy. “Average,” she snipped out a lie. The corner of your mouth twitched upwards. “Could say the same.”

The two of you laid there, drowning in the feeling of finally cumming after months of deprivation. “Want to go again?” Nancy nodded, “You’re on top this time.” You shifted your hips, clenching your walls around her fingers as you moved to sit on her lap. 

“So fucking bossy.”

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @adventures-of-impala, @shesadilema13

2. “Give and Take”

Steve Harrington x Afab!Reader

꒰Squirting + Edging꒱ - 664

• no she/her pronouns used, mentions of sexual exploring, protected sex, Steve losing the plot

kinktober m.list

Steve was always sweet during sex. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing! At his core he was a lover boy and he’d know it from how many times you played ‘Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy’ and stared at him with a knowing grin. He knew. And he thought you enjoyed it as much as him, you did! You would be lying if you said the sex was bad. With his experience and the sheer size of his dick it was never bad, just a little vanilla and recently you had expressed that to him.

Obviously he immediately launched into an hour long conversation of how to spice it up and if there was anything you’d like him to do. The two of you had settled on some things you could do, adventuring a bit. It had been going well, it always was great with Steve. Things changed, however, after one night at the bar you two had barely been able to get through the door before pulling each other's clothes off. 

Steve had been blinded by jealousy when a guy approached you. If he had listened he would have been able to understand that you had shot him down instantly, instead he had ignored the conversation and settled for edging the two of you for nearly an hour. After the first ten minutes he had lost sight of why he was jealous in the first place. The next twenty minutes he was slowly losing himself to the rhythm. And now?

Well now he was just addicted to the feeling of your soaked cunt wrapped around him. It was torture, but it felt so, so good. He didn’t have the ability to decide when to finally let go, only giving deep and slow thrusts the way he knew. It wasn’t enough though, and he knew it, your clit being swollen and neglected. “S..Steve, please.” Steve finally opened his eyes, looking down at you.

His hand cradled the back of your calf, holding it above his hip. “What is it?” Steve all but choked out, sliding all the way back in with a squelch. “Make me come.” He nodded in a daze at your request. Steve folded up the leg he held, pressing it up as he leaned over your body.

After a second he switched rhythm, pounding into you sloppily. Your arousal coated in a ring around the base of his cock, frothing on his pubes from the force of his thrusts. Steve grunted, veins in his neck straining with the effort. He was coated in sweat, hovering above you so his body wouldn’t slide over yours and cause him to lose his footing. 

“Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck!” Steve panted. Your cries were music to his ears when he bent down, pressing his forehead to yours. Each thrust sent your body jostling up and down on his mattress. “So close!“ You sobbed, Steve huffed in response. He doubled down, wiry hair catching on your clit with the new angle. “Almost there,” he warned, hand sliding down to press firmly against your stomach.

Your teeth sunk into his shoulder causing him to groan. His hips moved forward particularly hard in response, a spray of liquid suddenly squirting out of you onto him and the sheets under you. Steve choked on a pathetic sound, spilling inside of the condom finally as you mewled under him. His hips jerked out of pure desperation as he slowed down, sucking down gulps of air to steady himself at the overwhelming pleasure.

Steve’s body swayed, head fuzzy when he slowly straightened up to steady himself. His hairy thighs shook as he slowly pulled out of your abused pussy, careful not to wait too long, staring at the wet sheen on the bed. “Jesus Christ,” Steve sighed in awe, wide eyes looking up at yours. A proud smile spread across his face and he leaned down to press kisses all over your face, chuckling at your tired laughter. “There you go honey.”

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @adventures-of-impala

1. “Hotter Than A Burning Fire”

Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

꒰Face Sitting + Inexperienced꒱ - 1.6k

• oral (f receiving), mentions of fingering and masturbation, friends to lovers

kinktober m.list

Your hand swept over the wrinkles of the blankets, smoothing them down only for another ripple to appear where you couldn’t reach it. A groan erupted from your mouth, only silenced when Robin dropped her hand on top of the ripple, eliminating it. You snickered and turned to look at her lying beside you, “Thank you,” you said in a sing-song voice.

Yet, she didn’t look as amused as she usually would. In fact, Robin looked worried. “Robin?” She blinked at her name, snapping out of whatever daze it was. You had no clue her trance was due to the fact you had abandoned your shirt on the floor from the heat. Robin had done the same, severely underestimating what seeing you in your underwear would do to her body and mind.

Both of you had your feet propped up on your respective pillows, laying upside down in the heated room. The summer in Hawkins was hot, but the humidity was unbearable at best. Even with your ceiling fan at full blast you were sticky from the muggy heat. Robin was in the same boat, except her shorts were more uncomfortably syrupy when she noticed the outline of your soft nipples under your bra.

So much was shown yet not enough. Robin had opted for wearing a pair of your smaller shorts, the secure material making it hard to ignore the slick being pressed back up against her heated skin. “Huh?” Robin asked blindly, turning her head to look at you. “Are you okay?” Your voice was breathless, laughing out your question at her red face.

Her mouth felt dryer than a fucking desert when she studied your face. Robin’s eyes felt a magnetic pull to look at your chest again, but she held back, internally panicking at her turmoil. “Yeah. No, yeah I’m okay…totally fine. Why?” The corner of your lips curled up towards a smirk, “You look a little hot over there.” If her cheeks hadn’t been red before, they were one hundred percent cherry red now.

“What!?” She blurted out to your shock and bemusement, shooting up. “You look…hot? Ohhhh!” You erupted into giggles, sitting up after her. “No, no, like temperature wise, Rob. But I mean, sure that way too.” Robin had died and gone to heaven, she was sure of it. Sometime between you taking your shirt off and the both of you lying down she had succumbed to heatstroke. “You can’t say that!”

“Why can’t I? I just did.” You teased, leaning into her space when you sensed her fluster. It didn’t take a fortune teller to show how riled up she was, your words aside. You honestly didn’t know how she had figured you wouldn’t notice the way her thighs had been rubbing together for the past few minutes. Robin choked, leaning back when you leaned towards her, your arm slithering around her waist to pull her back onto the bed, and you, when she slipped. “Careful,” you murmured smugly.

Shit. If that wasn’t the hottest thing she had heard, she didn’t know what was. All she could do was nod at your warning, leaning back into you. When she noticed your eyes trailing down she let hers fall, looking at her thighs spreading over your knees. It wasn’t the first time you’d been in a compromising position, not by a long shot. It also wasn’t the first time she felt like this.

She could go home and finger herself to quell the ache for a bit, but it always came back around you. Only you. She wanted you so badly it hurt, even without a notch of experience under her belt. You could take the lead, she wouldn’t mind one bit. Robin could sometimes mask how much you messed with her head, but watching a droplet of her arousal roll down her freckled thigh she knew there was no hiding that.

The click of your tongue had her perking her head up, lips parting in surprise when your fingertip swept up her inner thigh. “You’re that hot?” Your question was borderline a joke knowing it wasn’t sweat, but it offered her a way out. She felt the pause of your fingers, settling where you had smeared her wetness. However, your reaction spurred her on. You hadn’t seemed grossed out, the opposite of it with how your eyes were locked on the silhouette of her cunt in your shorts.

Robin couldn’t tear her eyes away from your face though, “No.” “Are you finally speechless?” The following silence answered your question, eyes finding her wide ones. “Need me to take care of that?” Surely, she was truly dead this time. Her slow nod wasn’t good enough for you, fingers sliding away. “Please,” she whined, face dropping to a pathetic pleading expression.

You grinned, all teeth when your fingers roughly hooked around the edge of your shorts, dragging her forward. “There’s my talkative girl.” Robin rewarded you with a shaky sigh, eyes falling shut as your fingers relaxed, turning to slide through her folds. You had no clue she had gone commando under your shorts, but the wet material you felt on the back of your knuckles removed any potential aversion to her choice. You’d use them later, but for now you needed to take care of her.

Robin’s folds were so swollen you could easily sink two flattened fingers between them and have them disappear without having to push them into her fluttering entrance. “Why don’t you get out of these?” If the offer wasn’t enough, the way your fingers curled to gently pet her pussy had her head reeling. “Good idea,” she rushed to bend over, your fingertips barely dipping into her cunt at the new angle, slipping out to give her space.

Her eyebrows pinched together when she whined, hurriedly shoving her shorts off. You watched as she squirmed in frustration, kicking them haphazardly. Granting her more room, you turned and laid back on your bed, licking your fingers clean. Her musk was tangy, wetness thick like molasses. Perfect.

Robin triumphantly let the shorts fall to the ground, slipping them off her ankle, when she raised her head to look at you. The shape of your fingertips poked at your cheeks as you sucked your fingers clean. “Jesus,” she sighed, stumbling to crawl over you. Robin seemed to realize what position you were in, pausing to hover over your abdomen.

You answered her before she needed to ask where to sit. Well…you answered in a way. Smirking, you tapped your lips with two fingers that still shone with your spit. “No way,” Robin gasped. “I’ll crush you!” You laughed at her statement, “Good way to go,” you murmured. The palms of your hands wrapped around the backs of her thighs, urging her up your body. Robin shakily moved up to kneel over your face.

“Are you sure?” Her voice came out as a squeak, cut off by you confidently pulling her down. The first thing you felt was the heat of her pussy soaking into your skin, the second being her actually soaking her skin. Robin whined, squirming as she tried to get used to sitting on your face while she held onto the headboard.

Only once she finally settled, did you draw your tongue up through her folds. Tasting her on your fingers was good, but nothing compared to it straight from the source. Instantly, Robin gave a wobbly mewl, not surprising you that she was loud. With how often she rambled on or was brash in day-to-day settings, it made it plausible that she was loud in bed. You definitely had never thought about it before.

Did it even matter to deny it anymore when Robin was humping your face so desperately? One second you were lapping languidly at her cunt, the next her hips speeding up newfound determination. Laying your tongue flat, you let her ride it as she pleased. “Oh shit, ohmygod. Thank you, thank you..” Any following words died in her throat as you flicked your tongue against her sensitive clit.

Something akin to a squeal left her lips, her hips jolting yet not moving far with your grip on her thighs keeping her to your face. Her hands clutched the wood of your headboard, straining under her grip and she knew she would be addicted to your mouth. Robin couldn’t find it inside herself to be embarrassed at the sounds her pussy made, molten on your mouth. You didn’t care either, pulling her down further to put your heart and soul into teasing her clit.

Swirling the tip of your sharp tongue around the bundle of nerves, your lips cupped it gently contrasting how you sucked adamantly. Robin fell farther into silence, at a loss for words, hips almost bouncing as she tilted her head back. Her blue eyes disappeared from sight, rolling back as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

She wished she could verbalize how good it felt, to keep doing that right there, but this was a rare occasion of her completely shutting up. The only indication of her impending release was her tensing body and the choked sound she finally let pass her chapped lips.

One, two, three sucks more and her thighs were clamped around your head. Your reward came as did she, salty cum dripping into your mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut at your happy moan when you hungrily drank her up. Stars burst behind her eyes at your continued ministrations, disgustingly loud sounds finally leaving her again.

You took the cue, reluctantly unlatching from her bullied pussy. Robin sat mounted on your face, head fuzzy until you tapped her thigh a moment later. She slowly moved back, sitting on your chest as she panted and looked down at you. “That good?” Even with her blurry vision she could see your wide smirk. “Shut up,” She smiled, leaning down to lick your soaked chin clean.

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @marirxse, @chx-rrryc0la, @adventures-of-impala, @shesadilema13