SEBASTIAN STAN Pam & Tommy 1.05

SEBASTIAN STAN Pam & Tommy 1.05

Spare a hug sir?

distraction

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

warnings: fem-bodied reader, slight domesticity? tired!vander, smut? and oral (fem receiving)

consider vander coming home. he's tired, dishevelled, and you wouldn't think he'd ironed his shirt because of how wrinkled it is. the door slams behind him and he lets out a breath, eyeing your shared living space soothed by the sight of you aimlessly laid out on the couch.

you go to sit up, but he waves a hand. a sign that means don't bother so you stay propped on the arm of the couch, staring at him from where you're half laid out. "you alright, love?"

a corner of his mouth juts up as he sinks to his knees in front of you and kisses your stomach, hands running over your sides as his lips ghost over the skin that's exposed from his wandering fingers prying at your loungewear. you didn't notice the furrow in his brow until they unfurl from your soft gasp.

his hair has dulled and your hands rake through it assesing whether or not your lover would appreciate adding that to the shared bits of your nightly routine.

fingees trace down your thighs and you swat at him when the squeeze he gives them turns biting. you meet him halfway, kissing him softly until his fingers grab your jaw and guides you as his tongue laves over yours and allows his kiss to trail to the corner of your mouth before he settles back on his knees. he presses kisses up your leg as he sets one and then the other on his wide shoulders after throwing your shorts elsewhere.

it didn't matter that you only wore shorts. he leans down, nose bumping clit before his mouth settles above it. sucking softly on your mound before he opens his eyes and meets your lust-hazed eyes.

"how was your day?" your breathy tone would usually make him smile, but he sinks low and takes his time licking from your drooling cunt up to your sensitive pearl. your legs spasm on his shoulders and you clutch the wrinkled button up only for him to swat your hand off of him.

"not right now, doll. m'eating.." he says as he proceeds to latch his mouth onto you and gorgeous sounds fall from your lips.

softhearted bruiser

young!vander x reader

sequel to big-head and bull-head; vander takes you home and new beginnings are a whole lot of something

warnings: minors/ageless blogs do not interact or you'll be blocked, 18+, smut, reader and vander are mid-twenties, reader is notably smaller than the six foot two man that's still growing, i tried to depict a lighthearted but short tempered vander bc that's what i think he was like, swearing, mentions of injury (not to reader), blackmailing (but reader is not blackmailed/coerced), mentions of blood, allusions to literature (the song of achilles and the great gatsby), vander gets so sappy (sm puppy love), dom leaning switch vander? i feel like this is long for no reason? vander's a bit of a cockblock (unintentional), wrap it before you tap it bc van certainly did.. did not, slight breeding kink if you squint, mentions of cum eating, oral fixation, hyperventilation (its not what you think), dumbification, and a very very polite vander who likes conscent, female parts and there might be mention of reader being a woman?? im not sure im tired

Walking on the street in silence with our hand in his pocket made you realize exactly what he reminded you of. Even when he expertly avoided being bombarded by a group of people with a wave of his hand and what is becoming one of your favorite smiles, there’s no mistaking it. There’s a certain feeling that you can’t quite articulate properly when you’re with him.

He nudges you, “Is there something on my face?”

You look up and he’s stealing a chaste kiss off your lips before taking off down the street and you dart after him. “You gremlin!” You scoff, trying not to waste much of your breath as he easily turns, running backwards so he can watch you.

“You’re faster than I thought.” Vander smirks. You swat at him and barely miss him, but he trips and falls on his back causing you to fumble.

When you open your eyes, he’s got his arms circled around your waist and he’s laying on the pavement as if he’s in your living room. He’s unfazed by your unimpressed gaze.

“You know, you’re really clumsy for someone who’s main income flows from showing off in a ring.”

“You fell, too.” He props himself up on an elbows and you’re trying to get up before someone sees you lounging with this shaggy wild man and thinks you’re both exhibitionists or something much worse.

“Would you hurry up?” You wriggle on top of him, but he’s smiling like an idiot while you attempt to move. “You still have scars you know and they’ll get infected if you keep-”

“Hey.” Your attention shifts to him and your writhing finally stops. He’s smiling still, it’s soft and chock full of adoration directed solely on you, caused by you. “I really appreciate you coming. It means a lot to me.”

You smile softly and his hand comes up to your cheek. “You know what?”

“Hm?” He hums, dazed by the smile you’re directing at him. One that he swears is for him.

You yank his hair and he jolts with a groan, tapping your wrist, “It’s going to rain, you’re going to get sick, and you know who’s going to be whining the whole evening about a runny nose?”

“Okayokayokayokayokay!"

. . .

Once out of the rain, he bows slightly and flails his head wildly so that water splashes everywhere. You knock your hips into his and send him shrieking when he falls to the floor. He glares at you and he’s on your couch, in briefs mind you, flipping through the books you’ve picked up every now and again. Scattering books over your coffee table kept him distracted while you cleaned his wounds so you let him make the mess.

“I kind of don’t get these.” He says thoughtfully.

“Well you’re not reading them all the way through.” You smile and he glances over his shoulder at you with a playful glare.

“Okay, well.. explain this one.” He stops to lean and pick up a book off the table. “I read the summary and this guy is second hand to a Greek king? A general, maybe, but halfway through he changes his mind about a war that I’m pretty sure he started and his lover gets killed. Why did he change his mind? No one had to die.”

You lean forward on Vander’s back, narrowly avoiding wounds and turning the book over to read the title. He kisses your cheek while you skim the small summary to rekindle your memory of it, “This was initially about principle. They abducted two women, his boss was forced to let her go and demanded the other be turned over for ‘compensation’.” Vander initially stares at you scandalized at the prospect of the women being treated like objects. You peck his nose, “You can rant all you want about the objectifying later, but this was about the boss not wanting to earn rewards and halfway through a battle, our hero initially chose the lives of his friends over making a point out of pride.”

He snaps the book shut. “But causing a war?”

You kiss his temple and go back to cleaning his wounds, “He had a principle and I think that turned into pride, but it’s been awhile since I read that book so I’m not sure.”

“That’s stupid.” Vander rolls his eyes, “He got a lot of people killed.”

You shrug, “Sometimes pride blinds people.”

“Okay well how about this one.” He holds up another book, “I read some of this. This rich guy has an affair with a woman who’s husband is already having an affair.”

You smirk at him, “You read some of it just to find out the juicy details, didn’t you?”

Vander’s ears are turning red as he scoffs and rubs his thumb over the book, “I read some while I was waiting for you to come back from work one time.” He shrugs, “Well, do you think she should’ve cheated? Or that rich guy shot at the end?”

You laugh and shake your head at Vander, “The book isn’t about cheating. It’s about happiness, I think.” You’re wrapping his arm and he’s staring up at you from where his head is lolled back to watch you. “How the pursuit of happiness dissolved into the pursuit of wealth. The guy the book followed the whole time basically thought dreams of happiness were ridiculous masks for something else.”

Vander turned to lie in your lap, making books clatter to the floor as he stretched his legs. You started to scold him, but sincerity and some kind of promise had made those eyes a kind of striking grey that reminded you of lightning over the Piltover skies.

“What?” Your voice seemed tiny compared to his gaze that held endless possibilities, endless hopes for the visualizations that passed his mind’s eye when he slept at night.

He wrapped his arms around your hips, unravelling some of the bandages around his arm, but this familiar closeness paired with the new meaning behind it made your breath catch.

“My dreams aren’t ridiculous.” He proudly smiles.

“No?” You smirk. Fingers drag softly over his scalp and he almost closes his eyes from your ministrations, “What about that dream where you’re stealing a wheel of cheese from Silco because he wouldn’t make you mayor?”

Vander’s face burns so bright you’re sure he’d have popped. He groans and buries his face in your stomach, forcing you to lean back on the couch. “I don’t dream about that anymore.”

You smile at him when he peeks up at you, “Then what ridiculous dreams do you have?”

“You’re not ridiculous.”

“What?” you retort.

You think for a moment while he’s staring at you, scoffing like you’re the one who’s forcing this out of him. He sits up with your legs casually propped on his hips and watches you a moment longer before he realizes you don’t understand. He grins a lopsided smile framed by those shaggy chestnut locks.

“My dreams are about you.” He leans down, arms beside your head and his hair falls around your face so there’s nothing but him for you to stare at. “So I think you’re wrong. Because if I dream of happiness and my happiness is you, then that can’t be ridiculous.”

His hands cup your face and he plants a kiss so tender that it makes your heart lurch in your chest. Your eyes water and you simply wrap your arms around him, pulling him flush to you. How is this the same bloke that mixes up Daisy Buchanan and Jordan for Patroclus and Trojans?

“But Pat Claus deserved better.” He mutters against your lips.

You snicker as he buries his face against your neck. “You mean, Patroclus?”

“Whatever.” He groans, but you feel Vander rut his hips against yours. He gasps against your neck and pulls back to gauge your reaction, “M, My bad-” he laughs nervously and his hands are rubbing into your waist, but you watch as his nerves melt away when he eyes the way you’re breathing heavily beneath him.

“You want to go back to reading?” You flash him a smile and his cheeks are rich with color all over again.

You think his hands will go for where your shirt has ridden up, but you jolt when his thumb is swiping your chin and down to trace your jaw. His gaze is already on you and those brilliantly gleaming, grey eyes are completely blown as they scour every inch of your face for a place to settle. But they don’t. They can’t. There’s no place for them to settle because that gaze means there’s nowhere for them to. The stars mismatch you, every beautiful sunrise or set that’s passed over the sky mismatches you, and nothing in his eyes, in this world will ever compare to the sight of you.

“I asked Silco what words I could use to describe something beautiful and none of them came close.” To you. None of the words sounded inherently close to what he thought of you. “I was disappointed that there wasn’t a word that could describe how pretty you are.”

You’re staring at him like he told you where all the missing people that cross the rich topsiders are hidden and still he’s caressing your jaw like you’re made of glass.

He leans down with a smile, “Can I kiss you again?”

You shake your head and push his face, “Where is all this coming from?” You prop up on your elbow and he’s rolling his eyes.

“You know, I thought I was slow.” He barely dodges when you swipe at him.

“Vander.”

“I like you a lot.” He shrugs and he’s palming your sides thoughtfully. His gaze shifts outside, but you’re careful when you turn his gaze back on you. He stares for a moment and his eyes drift to his hands that are on your legs and his brows knit together in a way that makes your heart ache.“It’s not stupid to.. to bare your heart to someone, is it?”

You rub his cheek and he closes his eyes, turning so his lips are pressed against your palm and uncaring if it tilts his nose from it.

“Why?” Your tone is careful.

“Is it?” He asks again and for a moment you think you might’ve lost him.

But you sit up, cupping his cheeks, and your touch is monumentally grounding to him given how he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and sliding his legs out from under him so you’re that much closer.

“No.” You kiss his forehead and his eyes open so that he’s staring up, cheeks squished from how much he’s leaned into your hands. “It’s not stupid to bare your heart. It’s hard to care as much as you do.” You smile and his mouth parts and eyes widen like he’s seen the moon for the very first time. “But it’s that much harder if whoever you bare your heart to can’t love you the same way you love them.”

He leans on the couch and you settle your arm on the back of it, one hand propping your head and the other running through his hair. “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes they can’t love you the way you want them to. Sometimes you meet at the wrong time. Or sometimes their feelings are outweighed by your own.”

He opens his mouth and shuts it, playing with the hem of your shirt as he thinks. “How would one... carefully... avoid that?”

“Sometimes there’s no helping it.” You mutter. And your eyes drift a little, but he laughs and finds himself pressing kisses to your jaw.

“That’s not going to happen with us.”

You can’t fight off a smile when you hear him laugh and somewhere deep down he knows it. “And how do you know that, love?”

“Because we’ll make it work.”

He pulls back and the way his eyes are glimmering with promise and patience makes your heartbeat falter. “What if I didn’t want to hurt you so I broke up with you?”

“Break ups are mutual in this house.”

You almost topple over laughing. He presses a few kisses up your throat with a lovestruck smile before you’re continuing, “What if I told you I’m going topside?”

He scowls, “You know how long I’d have to walk just to get home?”

“Pfft, no. That’s why you’d stay home.”

“But Silco’s house would be so far away-”

“Wait, Silco’s house?”

You raise a brow and he nods, “Yeah, if you went topside I’d move with you, or maybe near you? I have to keep the creeps away.”

You run your hands through his hair, “If I told you I liked Silco?”

Vander pauses and he’s desperately trying not to pout, “I’d be happy for you.” he grits out.

The sight of you giggling makes his eyes soften and you lean down to kiss him.

He eagerly reciprocates, sitting up to press into you more, but your hand on his chest keeps him from overpowering you. He whimpers, hands on your hips as you move to straddle him and Vander huffs, looking up at you.

“Can’t rip those stitches on your back. Did you forget?” You smirk when his brows start to furrow in frustration as he tries to raise up again.

“They don’t hurt.” he pouts.

Those grey eyes are changing, darkening and swirling with more than the frustration you spot in his eyes. “They don’t?” You ask, lowering so you can roll your hips against his. He makes a choked sound, tensing and pulling your hips harder into his so he can grind into you the way he wants to.

A crack of thunder, much louder than you’d anticipated, makes the both of you jolt. You grab him and he’s holding you like you’re two teenagers that almost got caught making out. He’s laughing, pressing kisses up your throat and pulling you back into this haze you’ve stirred up in him.

“Can I touch you?” He asks, pulling back and stopping what he’s doing to look you in the eyes. His fingers even guide your chin so his answer is clearer than a blue sky.

“Yeah.” You smile, “Yes. You can touch me.”

He buries his face in your shoulder and hugs you so you’re flush to him. “I like you so much.”

You tilt his head back and plant a kiss to his lips that turns his bones to jelly and makes him groan, “I like you, too.”

He’s already in his briefs you realize and the thought alone makes you tense because you thought his jeans thickened up the muscle that’s pressing into your thigh.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, looking down to his bulging erection that’s perfectly proportioned to his thighs that have you spread wide. It’s all mind-boggling because sometimes you forget how big he is.

“Nothing, you’re just no small feat.” Those words make that lopsided grin appear on his face for some reason and he just rolls that searing erection into the thin fabric of your shorts and you jolt with a moan when it brushes you just right.

His hands are rubbing your sides and between these languid kisses he’s driving, he still asks, “Is it still okay to touch you?”

You nod, but he grabs your jaw, eyes careful as they flick over your face. Then you see it and scowl.

He is so smug about it now.

“I need to hear it.”

“Screw yourself.” You roll your eyes and he drags his lips down your neck before mouthing up the trail with heavier, dizzying kisses.

He huffs and shrugs, “Fine.”

You’re tossed. I mean it. Thrown sideways to the long side of the couch and he’s palming himself like he’s not on your couch. “Ah, that’s nice.”

His head falls back and he fishes himself out of those skin tight briefs, shuddering as his cock meets the cool air. You almost want to scold him, but you decide you’ll play this game.

Your shorts are gone and you’re shimmying your underwear off with your legs in the air when he lurches from his spot to stop you. Obviously his plan backfired.

“I wanted…” His eyes land on you, exposed, and very much wet he licks his lips. “T-T-To…”

He sounds winded and you open your legs a little more making him settle so he’s knelt in front of you, dick half out and all because you’re sitting here in front of him.

“To what?” You smirk, hips wiggling a little.

He’s putting weight into the hand keeping your legs open and exposing more of you to his prying eyes. “You. You’re really really pretty.”

You swat at him, but he leans down and you’re reaching for him, but can’t quite make it.

“Van!” He stops immediately and clear eyes, hardly hazed with lust are meeting yours.

“Uncomfortable? You wanna stop?”

“No.” You huff, “Just- C’mere.”

He leans up, sighing against your lips like his cock isn’t pulsing on your thigh right now. He trails down your neck and back to your lips before letting out a laugh that makes you look at him curiously. “Sorry, I just didn’t think I’d get to do this.” He smiles, rubbing your thighs and pulling your underwear off before letting his hands trace feathery lines along your skin to the underside of your breasts.

“To what? Touch?”

He shakes his head, adoring eyes and a thoughtful smile on his face. “Fuck you how I want."

That makes your insides churn.

You shut your legs and stand up to kick your underwear off despite his whining, but he clams up when you straddle him again.

He’s trying to kick off the boxer briefs and they get stuck on his thigh so you lean back sliding them down. In doing so, your back arches as you hold onto his shoulder and your shirt, already bunched up because of his frantic need to have you front pressed to his, nearly exposes the underside of your breasts. You’re doing all this while pulling down his boxers and when you find he’s red in the face, he doesn’t know how to explain how beautiful that just was.

He’s sheepish when he smiles, the tips of his ears are the brightest you’ve ever seen him, and he’s suddenly very interested in you taking the lead.

He stands up with you in his arms suddenly and you shriek. It makes him laugh as he casually heads towards your room. “Don’t jump on the bed, you meathead. I had to get those reinforced be-bed… No.” As soon as reinforced slipped your lips a grin slipped on his face and he’s staring at you with innocent eyes. “No. No. I just stitched you up. “

“You have work tomorrow?” He asks, laying you on the bed.

“No. Why?”

“No reason.” The cheeky grin doesn’t fade when his thumb is at your entrance making you jolt and grab for his hand. “That’s good.”

The light touch he delivers to your sensitive bundle of nerves completely wipes you of the laugh waiting to get out of your mouth by the violent shiver that rakes down your spine. You don’t get to think when he’s knuckle deep in your sopping pussy. You don’t get to think about how he’s twitching on your thigh when your hips roll trying to take his fingers deeper. You don’t get to think about anything except how he’s stroking you so perfectly and making your nerves fray by crooking his fingers just right inside you.

He’s leaning up, hiking your shirt up so he can leave the prettiest colors over your chest in an attempt to settle the aching you’re thrusting upon him when you try to ride his fingers. You’re still tensing and clenching when he flips you onto your back.

He’s nuzzling the underside of your thigh, eyes rolling shut as he leaves harsh nips and slows his pace, bringing back to him and marking you as his.

“Can I?” There’s a flush working up his collar at the thin sheet of sweat over your body, the rise and falls of your chest and the way the bed is still settling from how carelessly he flipped the two of you- he needs to relish in all that you’re giving him. Your glistening folds and the way you’re slick is wetting the sheets because of him is tipping him closer to his end.

You’re dizzy and he’s kissing up your legs, thumbing over your puffy lips as he waits for you to come back to him. He doesn’t want to ask because it’s obscene. You flash him a grin in your fucked out state and he clutches your hips, not wanting to cross boundaries and yet he’s staring right at your clit and swallowing thickly.

“I need it.” He looks lost as he stares up at you and his eyes are lidded. “Fuck, I need it. Please, can I-” He shuts his jaw and sees you’re fucking with him. He scowls, “You know what I want.”

He’s glaring darkly now. Vander’s heart lurches at your breathy laugh and he groans, almost looking shy from where he’s got his face half tucked into the meat of your thigh.

You run your hand through his hair that’s getting damp all over again. “Ask for it.”

The slight buck of your hips makes him give immediately. It doesn’t matter that he’s needy and kneeling- you could make him do that on any given week day. He’s weak today and he needs you.

“I wanna taste. Now.” His voice is gravelly and you’re withholding what he wants on purpose.

“Why?” You toy with him. He groans and leans up so he presses his forehead on your stomach.

“‘Cause you’re sexy?” He says it like it’s blatantly obvious and to him it is. “I want you. I really want you. I want you to cum on my tongue first. Please.”

You widen your legs and his breath hitches and you nod. He’s waiting for it. You both know he needs to hear it and you tug his hair a little. “Yeah. Go-”

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence. He got his confirmation and he’s running with it. His tongue flattens against your entrance and the long lick he gives, grey eyes cutting at you makes your heart sink. You can practically hear his thoughts when he pulls back to lick his lips.

He’s not going easy on you.

Vander sucks hard on your clit and you wince, trying to squirm away, but his hands on your thighs have them firmly planted into the bed so there’s no squirming away. You shriek and the slight twitch of his lips against you is lost when you feel his tongue flick over the tip of you.

“Shit! Van-” Your voice is pitched and the arch you do in an attempt to shake from this intense pleasure does nothing to shake him.

It feels so good and it’s too much all at once. Your stomach is bubbling in a way you’re not used to and your hands fly to his hair, trying to to tug him before this unfamiliar feeling makes your mind numb. You’re shrieking, bucking,pulling, and pushing from his sweet pleasure.

His fingers are light at your entrance and Vander simply stares up in awe like he’s watching you pull stars from the sky and not tug at his hair. They’re slow to intrude on your quivering entrance and he halts the devastating barrage on your nerves. You almost fall slack the moment his lips fall away from you, but you’re moaning again; so full and loud it rivals the rain beating down outside.

“I need to cum-” He gasps against the lips of your cunt that are spread by his thumb and ring finger.

You can barely answer with the sharp, unfaltering pace his fingers keep in an effort to rearrange your insides.

“So cum-” You squeak out between pitched moans and Vander shakes his head.

“Inside. I want to cum inside you first.”

You yank his hair and it shakes his core. He groans, latching his lips to that sweet bundle of nerves and you lose it right along with him. Shaking as your mouth falls open into a silent moan and you’re trying to figure out whether to pull him closer or push him off of you.

He gives a couple licks more to your entrance before pulling away and sitting on the edge of your bed, kneeling yet again. You were about to tell him to hurry up because of this greedy high he’s put you on and then you see that he’s out of breath for more than one reason.

His stomach is splattered with thick ropes of white and washing down the v-line that’s more pronounced from how he’s tilted back at the slightest.

He’s dazed and twitching, half hard against his thigh at the sight of the mess he’s left on your legs. He wipes his fingers over his jaw and nods, “Trust me?”

You nod absentmindedly. He sticks his fingers in his mouth, tips yours open with his thumb, cupping the back of your head and your face burns when you watch a pearlescent string of your slick and his spit fall to your tongue before he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

He frowns at the incredulous look on your face, “Do you not like how you taste?”

You huff and give him a few teasing pumps that make him shudder, “Do you not know how hot that is?”

He twitches a brow and you roll your eyes before giving his cock a squeeze and lean down to his cumstained skin. His jaw drops when your tongue trails up his lower abdomen and you kiss his underneath his navel. He twitches in your hand.

You pull him down and mimick that kiss from before, tugging him to meet you halfway and his ears redden when you pull away.

“C-Could you do that again?”

You laugh and go to move him underneath you, but Vander flips you onto your back. You scowl at him, “You’re going to pull something, Vander.”

He clicks his tongue at you, “I’m not old.”

“Vander.” You turn on your side and he sighs, leaning down, stroking himself and leaning his forehead on yours.

“Please?” His lips are quirked in a half smile and you groan when you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“It’s not getting any later.” You huff at him before he’s pressing his lips to yours, a victorious edge making his desire more contagious than it already is.

He spins you so your legs are on his waist and he notices your confused stare when he shrugs, “Only had you on your stomach so you’d forget about the stitches.”

You roll your eyes and are more than happy to feel his taut chest against yours that is far more plush. He squints at the shirt blocking his way, pulling it over your head and he smiles like a bittersweet, forgotten memory is being reminisced.

“I forgot about these.” He smiles.

He leans down to press a kiss to each pricked nipple. And whilst he thinks he’s discovered an oral fixation and a deeper appreciation for your body, you’re impatient.

“Vander.”

Your clipped tone makes him look up, still swirling his tongue around the nipple that's found a new home in his mouth.

“Now.”

He sucks harder just to spite you and you buck against him, catching the tip of his tapered head. He shudders and angles his hips away from you with a glare as he shivers. “I’m doing something.” he growls.

“Now or never, Van.” He stops and you raise a brow, but he merely switches up on you. “Want me to go find Silco?”

“For what?” He sounds offended. Genuinely.

Your fingers rub over your clit and you twitch. That strikes something in him. He swats your hand away, grabbing the underside of your knees and wrapping your legs around his hips.

“Silco can’t fuck.” He growls, dragging the tip of him through your folds with a pressure that has you butchering a sigh. He aligns himself with the clenching hole of yours, “He can’t fuck you like I can.”

It feels like he’s pushing in, but he slips out and knocks your clit making you whimper and throw your head back.

“Can he?” His voice is low from where his breath fans hotly by your ear. “Tell me you need it.”

Your hand is at his hip while the other is entwined with his and as he’s propped above you, staring into your watery eyes that are nothing but desperate as he scans your face.

“Hurry up.” He mocks you with a smug smirk that you don’t have the energy to combat.

“Need it.” You mutter, barely audible against his ear.

He leans down, that ego of his inflates at how fuckable you look. He’s not expecting your legs to pull his hand with his cock in it against your heat that gushes against his knuckles and your lips are on his ear.

“Make me cum?” It’s breathy and everything after that is a blur in your memory.

He sinks into you inch by inch. The world stops moving and the room starts spinning all while your silky heat keeps just beckoning him deeper and deeper until his hips are stopped by yours.

The moan you give is throaty and unrestrained. He needs to get deeper and a switch flips in his brain when he sees where you’re both connected. Your slick is teasing its way down his balls and his heart feels like it stops when he realizes what’s happening.

Your walls, that are still trying to suck him deeper, are pulsing.

His hand tightens around yours and your flesh bulges between his fingers when he lowers himself closer to you. His hand leaves yours and cups your neck. Vander is shaking. You run your hands through his hair and see his face that’s flushed with color, brows knitted tight and eyes drooping slightly.

He’s as wrecked as you feel.

Even then he leans forward and kisses you hard. His tongue drags through your mouth, sucking and trying to reminisce in the taste of him on your tongue when his hips recoil and you’re whimpering right into his mouth.

“Van.”

You don’t get another word out because the second hips ram yours, it knocks every coherent thought out of your brain. He’s groaning into your mouth, cupping your neck a little more firmly so he can kiss you with this languid fervor that makes you shiver. The hand on your hip tightens and he does it again.

His hips slam into yours and you’re digging your nails into his back to ground yourself. He does it again and pulls out slower so you feel every vein on him and the curve of his cock.

When he finds a pace, you’re babbling and digging your nails into him so much that its making him twitch and he’s forced to break the kiss. He doesn’t care about the drool that falls to your chest, he just kisses it away and smears it on his chin before he grabs your hips and tosses his head back.

His rutting and the way your cunt is taking him so well, struggling slightly from his size and gushing all the same makes him twitch every so often. His nerves are on fire and he can’t find it in himself to snark a line at you or tease you at how you’re holding onto him for dear life and making his thighs so slick that he has to hold you or he’ll slip out of you.

The thought of slipping out even for a second is devastating and he buries his face in your neck. You’re not heaving so much anymore, but he tips back when he feels your nails lose their edge.

Your eyes are clouded and your breathing is uneven. He stops and cups your face with the slightest smile.

“It’s hot, right?” He pants and you nod dumbly. He laughs, wrapping your arms around his neck and rocking back so you’re both sitting up. He waits, kissing your cheeks while you catch your breath and before long he feels your hips buck.

“You.. You don’t wanna stop?” He’s asking, but you roll your hips and kiss up his throat in a way that makes his mind go blank. “Oh fuck-”

You keep rolling your hips and his balls feel tight. Stopping just then, being so close to the edge seemed to yank his nerves because now he thinks he might cum at any second.

“Shit-” He whimpers, hands gripping your hips as he falls back into the bed. He starts bucking faster than he did before and you almost slump forward, hands on his chest as you try to rock your hips along his pelvis.

“I’m gonna cum.” He whimpers. His groan travels through you and his hand splays on your abdomen so he can strum your clit. “Fuck, baby, please-” He shouts as his hips start clumsily slapping into yours. “Cum-" he sounds positively broken, back bowing as his groans and hiccups mix with yours. And when he does cum. It’s brutal.

The way his hips are slapping up into yours draw out your orgasm and his cum fills you so much that after a few seconds it starts leaking down his cock. He keeps groaning and the grip on your hips would be borderline painful if you weren’t a trembling mess on top of him. His legs keep you from falling back and you’re sure that your shouts were heard by the whole floor.

When you both come down after lithe movements of your hiis to provoke the other, Vander flips you on your side next to him pulling out and you’re both holding each other like the other might disappear. His lips are pressed to your nape while your face is buried in his neck.

The rain sounds light compared to the heavy silence in the room, but neither of you are strangers to it. To the silence nor the rain.

“I need to open a window.” You mutter.

“‘S fine.” He says, tangling his legs with yours.

It’s warm like this. It’s not the first time that you’ve fallen asleep with Vander next to you or been tangled in his embrace. But it’s one of the first times you don’t think you could do without it.

. . .

In the morning, when you go to move, there’s an ache in your thighs. Your brows furrow and you bury your face against the warmth next to you before remembering exactly why there’s warmth beside you and why your thighs ache.

You crack an eye open and your blurry vision reveals Vander is propped up and you’re nuzzled into his chest.

“Good dream?” He smiles.

“Mm.” You're absent-mindedly agree and pull him down so his lips are on yours.

He kisses you like you’re made of glass and touches your cheek as if you’ll spook if he holds you too tight. He smells faintly of the paperbacks and smoke you associate with Silco’s apartment and more of leathers and cedarwood that are more his style. Vander pulls back, pecking your lips and cheeks and forehead before simply staring down at you.

“I was cleaning you up this morning and I didn’t get to tell you last night, but-” he shrugs, an endearing flush colors his ears. “You have the prettiest clit.”

You knock him upside the head and he laughs, falling to lay next to you as you give him an earful, but he kisses you again. This time slower and somehow softer than before. His eyes droop at the complacence that overcomes you afterwards and he can’t help but smile.

“Thanks for staying over.” You mutter, voice still laced with sleep as you stroke his cheek.

He leans down to nudge your nose with his. “Why? You know it’s instinct at this point.”

“I know.” You wrap your arm around his neck and he nestles himself between your legs. He’s still propped above you when you say, “I missed you coming to check on me. It gives me a chance to take care of you, too. And I missed that. You, I guess I mean."

He stares down, biting his lips, and trying not to let his eyes get too misty. His laugh is breathy when he buried his face in your neck. “You’re just saying that.”

“Vander.” You frown and tilt his chin up. “I mean it.”

He gazes as if he’s waiting on you to say you’re joking, but he’s letting out a ragged breath when you don’t.

“Then could we shower together?”

You grin and run your hands through his hair. “And breakfast, right? I know you’re hungry.”

He raises up to his knees, knocking blankets off you and you find that you’re still bare and at this angle you feel a little of Vander’s spend gush out. He grins playfully, thumb pushing the glob right back into you.

“Starving.” He licks his lips, but the bell near your door rings.

There’s a visitor downstairs and for some reason your doorkeeper won’t let them up. Vander groans a little, maneuvering off the bed and fishing out some clothes he keeps for when he stays over.

“It’s probably a wasted Silco.” He gives you a smile, “Don’t shower without me, I’ll be right back.”

He kisses you before he’s going out of your small building and finding no ones there. You live on the nicer part of the undercity and it’s not nearly as protected as it when you get deeper into it. No one should be awake given the sun hasn’t risen.

There’s light in the sky and Vander’s putting up his hair when he spots some kid waving him down the block. He follows, but doesn’t make it around the corner.

He’s on his knees and his vision is a little blurry. A boot on his back, in his stitches makes him groan, and a familiar face is in front of him.

“Vander.” The woman gives a wry smile. “Nice fight last night.”

He shrugs, “I wouldn’t know.”

She kicks him square in the jaw and he grunts, huffing at the smaller woman. “I lost a lot of money because of you.”

Vander gives her a charming smile and it’s bloody from her boot nearly knocking the taste out of his mouth. “Should’ve spoken to a bookie.”

She kicks him again and he’s really trying not to call much attention to himself because he knows if he might get arrested for ‘suspicious activity’. That and he’s not trying to have you thinking that he left you high and dry.

“You’re going to get me that money back.”

He honestly forgot about this part. When you don't go through with a fixed fight there are consequences from not following through. He didn't have anything to lose becore and now, well...

“How do you want it?” He asks.

The blonde laughs, feline eyes offering nothing but malice as they trail over Vander's face. “Yesterday, you would’ve told me to piss off.” Bex cocks her head and crouches in front of him. “Is it so that your capsized sweetie up there doesn’t get the brunt of your little mishap?”

Vander’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t answer.

“You work for me. A couple weeks of my sidejobs and throw a fight or two then we’ll call it even. I won’t even touch your new habit.”

Vander grits his teeth. Habit? He’s been around the block a couple times, but you’re not some toy he’ll give away at the drop of a hat.

And so he sighs. “What jobs?”

“Delivering packages, petting kitties, and maybe pilfer from the pilties.”

He hesitates, but the slender woman obviously isn’t satisfied. She’s about to kick him again, but he catches her foot and winces when spots he catches the eye of his banged up opponent from beside the muscle that had a foot on his back.

“Alright.” He sighs, resting his head on the pavement. “Okay, just… leave Silco and-”

She says your name and Vander bristles looking up at her. The brute kicks his side, nearly dislodging the stitches you’d done last night and he can’t stop the groan from leaving him this time. He hopes your window wasn’t open.

“I do my research, hun. If you walk out, I’ll knock you, Silco, and your piece of ass under the bridge, you hear me?” She waves dismissively for her goons and they follow, but not before the one he fought last night gives him a good kick.

Vander sighs, laying on the sidewalk and staring up at a sky with no sun.

When he sees you in your kitchen, the counter’s still messed up from your last argument and yet you’re smiling from ear to ear when he comes in. You’re glowing as the sun filters through the window in your kitchen and you peck his cheek, “Hey, who was outside?” you ask.

The swelling bruise on his jaw makes you frown and your undivided attention lands on him. It makes him smile softly and he kisses you, bringing your front flush to his.

“Silco.” he sighs against your lips. “Almost tore me a new one for last night’s fight, but he wanted to go get ready for his.”

You hum and kiss him again. He buries his face in your neck and now the only thing he associates with your smell is home.

“Good for him.” You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “I showered, but I thought I’d wait up on you to cook.”

He hums noncommittally, he’d be upset if he didn’t want you to see the blood trickling down his back from that lughead’s boot from earlier.

You’re in his shirt and he smiles at the slight limp you have but flashes of blood, of what could happen to you and Silco play in his mind make him quake. He steadies himself by coming up behind you.

He doesn’t want this life he’s building to fall apart before it's even seen the light of day. He needs this. This perfect life can't be capsized.

You peck his forehead and stroke the hair brushing your skin on the collar that’s much too big for you. “You alright, Van?”

He’s holding you like you might slip away. He hates that he's got something to lose, but damn it all if he doesn'g love it. He pulls you closer to him and prays that you don't feel the subtle tremor in his arms.

“The best I’ve ever been.”

𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚

concept: bucky didn’t know what he was signing up for when he agreed to let you be on top for once. it was his own fault, really.

pairing: bucky barnes x gn!reader

warnings: kind of sub!bucky but not really. daddy kink, reader is called bunny. bondage (bucky is tied up by rope to the bedpost). dirty talk, teasing (bucky calls reader a cu*t once). hand jobs, unprotected sex. creampie.

word count: 1.5k

from the writer: no one asked for this, but it’s all i thought about on my drive home from work — also it was written in two hours so there’s that lol

eighteen plus only — by choosing to ‘keep reading’, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. do not interact with this story if you are a minor.

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