I Can't Tell You How Many Fic Drafts I Have That Are Character Sheets And Then 2 Scenes

Shoulders are built for sinking your teeth into

Some of my favorites of the night …. I love black women

Ride or Die (Santiago "Pope" Garcia x fem!reader): Series Masterlist & Warnings

Posting schedule and Series Masterlist

This is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are queued.

Chapter One: POSTED

Chapter Two: POSTED

Chapter Three: POSTED

Chapter Four: POSTED

Chapter Five: POSTED

Chapter Six: POSTED

Chapter Seven: POSTED

Chapter Eight: POSTED

Chapter Nine: POSTED

Chapter Ten: POSTED

Chapter Eleven: POSTED

BONUS content: PLAYLIST (TBC)

Series Warnings (below the cut):

To avoid chapter by chapter spoilers, this time I'm providing general, series-level warnings of the main themes covered throughout. This may also mean the list is non-exhaustive. If you need more information in order to safely avoid a trigger/topic, or to enhance your reading experience, you are welcome to DM me / send in an ask. Also, if you spot something I missed that you think should be included here to aid other readers, hmu!

Please note, the whole series is NSFW, MDNI (18+). Minors or ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Smut: EXPLICIT, CORE THEME e.g. fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, casual sex with other non-pairing partners implied off-screen.

Angst: A CORE THEME. Relationship angst. A lot of arguing / yelling (not trying to romanticise this at all!). Some toxic jealousy. Conflicts with friends. Abandonment fears. As well as this central relationship conflict, side characters are dealing with individual issues, such as those referenced in canon (divorce, prior violence, drug misuse etc.). 

Drugs / alcohol mentions: reader participates in casual social drinking throughout, some heavier drinking in one chapter (party context). Smoking (one chapter). Brief mentions of drug use (cocaine).

Food mentions: casual, frequent. 

Mentions typical of canon / e.g. wartime, US army, bullet wounds, car crash, injury, fear of mortality, violence (no graphic descriptions).

Mental health: implied past trauma typical of canon. Brief mentions of nightmares, possible PTSD.

Reader descriptions: fem!AFAB reader. Uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s hair is described a couple of times as being e.g. “pulled”. No hair texture / colour / style / other details specified or implied. Reader has a family who appear in a couple of chapters (sister and nephews). No physical descriptions of them are supplied. Mentioned that reader grew up with her sister, though not specified whether biological / adoptive / found family.

Spanish language: reader understands / speaks Spanish, though not specified what her first language is (or isn’t). I have avoided lengthy Spanish translations / text as I am not a native speaker. Some Spanish language is included, limited to terms of endearment and the like. I am always happy to be corrected. I research, but some mistakes are likely.

Sexual health / pregnancy: mentions of reader using birth control, including mentions of emergency contraceptives / slip-ups. Not a core theme. 

Religion: mentions of Catholicism.

Other: contains significant Tom. It’s pre-canon, I’m so sorry. 

Productivity Log #1

I actually did something productive today 😁😁. I cleaned my room. It’[s not much, since I dint make my bed or anything but i swept my room and my bathroom, scrubbed my shower, toilet and sink and mopped the floors. It took a lot longer than I thought it would, since its been a while since I’ve cleaned anything really. 

It felt good to do something other than watch youtube videos and listen to music. I’m gonna see if i can keep this going and start on my school work tomorrow, Theres a lot to catch up on before lectures resume, and I actually want to do well this year. 

I think getting things off my chest has allowed me to start to move on.

cute

Shameless Enjoyment

platonic Bucky Barnes x Alpine!reader

part of Companion Animal (see previous or series)

Image found on Pinterest by @ellethespaceunicorn who thought of Bucky bonding with his new kitty 😻 so OBVIOUSLY I had to run with it...

No warnings, just floofy fluff! Enjoy 😘 WC 625

It's because he has nightmares that he suddenly pops up to burn off unprovoked, fight-or-flight energy. Shirtless, metal arm whirring in strain, covered in sickly sweat, Bucky just goes and goes.

Hundreds of sit ups. Hundreds of pull ups. Hundreds of push ups until his muscles finally fail, and he can (maybe) go back to sleep.

You've watched with your own breed of fear and sadness a few times before, but not tonight. You need him to not feel alone, to notice there's someone (or something) here to help. You need to ease his pain in some small, tiny, probably insignificant way, but you have to try.

So you prop yourself up on his knees during the sit ups, you jump for his rising, crossed ankles during the pull ups, and you shimmy across the floor by the sleek hairs of you back, positioning yourself beneath his head during the push ups.

His eyes are glassy, unseeing of you, his face bobbing closer then farther on and on.

His dog tags clink on the floorboards only an inch away, but Bucky still notices absolutely nothing.

Well, you know how it goes, right? Hear a tink, tink, tink enough times (dozens and dozens so far), and we're all like to be driven a bit bonkers.

You attack them, pinching the flat steel between your paws and bunny-kicking the swinging string, deeply annoyed that you have no thumbs to grab them properly and rip them right off his neck.

Ok. Maybe you're tired and he did wake you from a proper sleep this time.

You bite at the tags, intent on making your own mark on the stamped metal.

Bucky stops, but you only notice when his body remains lowered to yours for longer than the regular beat.

You, in turn, stop mid-thrash.

"Pretty girl..." he growls playfully, though you are anything but 'pretty' with your fangs hammering an unyielding surface, your wide eyes angry and lopsided, and your body twisted to gain the leverage of one-twentieth Bucky's own size.

You pause then growl in kind.

"Are you mad at me? Did I disturb you?"

A back leg whacks at the chain again in defiance.

He chuckles, the harsh lines above his serious brow relaxing as he pushes up, dragging the necklace almost out of your reach.

The smooth plates slip from your paws, and it makes you furious, batting wildly to regain your hold of them.

Bucky seems very pleased with that reaction.

"There ya go, doll. Almost got it--" he lowers again "--yay! What about--" he pushes as far as his elbows will straighten "--now?"

A wet huff escapes your throat when the string goes entirely beyond the extension of your own fury limbs.

"Uh oh! Little higher, Alpine. You can do it," he coos.

Your screech is from genuine irritation, but it amuses Bucky to the point you wriggle some more...just for show.

"Okay, okay, here ya go." Bucky lowers the tags carefully to your chest, delighted by the feral display of savagery he sometimes wishes to impart on the symbols, too. You're sure he doesn't realize he says these things out loud, but you take his confessions as seriously as a priest.

You'll take on his burdens like a golem if that's what helps him sleep through the night.

A few hundred secrets. Let him push them out. And then let him dream of better things. Fluffier, pure white, happy things. If he lets you, you'll fight all the demons and fly from room to room scaring all the ghosts of his past away.

He can do this routine without shame. He's simply playing with his cat. Bucky's just enjoying his time with you...at any and all hours of the day.

[Next Part: 'Babygirl']

[Main Masterlist; Bucky Barnes Masterlist]

A/N: yes, Lexi's got zero chill. What of it? You all knew that!

@hisredheadedgoddess28 @irishhappiness @fallenxjas @ilovetaquitosmmmm @venunsgirl @fries11 @lovinglimerence @navs-bhat @creat0r-cat @yenzys-lucky-charm @bitchy-bi-trash @supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry

blink and miss it but someone pointed out bucky’s shamelessly checking sam’s ass out here

Welcome to my Masterlist 💌

hi, i'm murphy. my requests are always open - feel free to send any ideas or thoughts you have - i'll always read them all.

note - all of my fics are reader insert. no use of y/n. i don't write for real people, only characters <3

Last Updated - December 14th

❁ - over 1k notes

✯ - a series

Characters I Write For.

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist. 3k Celebration Masterlist. Valentines Masterlist. 5k Celebration Masterlist.

Moodboard Masterlist. My Ao3.

 ⊹ 　 ✫ 　　 · 　　 ✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵  　.　 ✦ * 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　　　

Top Gun: Maverick

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

The Orange. ❁

You and Jake share an orange. He's in love with you.

For Eternity. (Part 2 of The Orange.)

You and Jake share an orange. He's never loved you more.

North Star. ❁

It's New Year's Eve. Jake is tired of waiting.

I Know Places.

Jake always joked that he'd kill for you. One fateful day, he does just that.

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin & Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Why Choose?

A drunken game of spin the bottle gets a little heated. Why choose, when you can have both?

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia

Dr Cupid.

Mickey Garcia passes out in hospitals. Luckily, this time there's a pretty nurse there to catch him.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Lessons in Love. ❁

Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.

Honey Girl. ✯❁

The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Trick or Treat.

You love Halloween. Bucky loves you.

Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.

Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.

Stucky

Letters to the Moon.

Steve is gone. The love you and Bucky have for him isn't.

Wishbone.

You meet Bucky and Steve while on the run. The three of you quickly learn that nothing is more violent than love.

Frank Castle

There's Always Tomorrow.

Frank knows you better than you know yourself. It's a blessing and a curse.

Multi Talented. ❁

Frank shows you exactly what you deserve.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Criminal Minds

Luke Alvez

Wherever You Are. That's Where Home Is.

Luke might be a mind reader. Only with you, though.

Vice. ❁

Everyone on the team has their vices. It just so happens that yours is sat across the table looking at you.

Spencer Reid

Web of Lies. ✯

Spencer Reid has always been good at keeping secrets. You just never thought he'd keep one from you.

Cowboy!Spencer ✯

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Narcos

Javier Peña

Self Control. ❁

Javi keeps refusing himself what he wants. One night puts everything into perspective.

Yes, Mr President.

There's an endless amount of things you shouldn't do as the President of the United States. Defiling the Oval Office is definitely one of them.

Western Nights. ✯

You don't expect to bump into your dad's best friend Javier in a church basement on the outskirts of town. You also didn't expect to fall in love with him. Life seems to be full of surprises - and Javier was the biggest surprise of all.

Jealousy, Jealousy. ❁

Javier Peña doesn't share.

Two Murphy's and a Peña.

Javier knows Steve's sister is off limits. He's never been one to follow the rules.

After Hours.

You and Javier are stuck in the office in the middle of a heatwave. You're hot in more ways than one.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Triple Frontier

Time. ❁

You get shot in Colombia. Frankie, Benny, Santiago and Will each have their own ways of helping you heal.

Tethered. ❁

The lines of friendship blur when you’re this close. Also known as - each of the times you’ve kissed Benny, Frankie, Santiago and Will.

Tranquility.

You're not good at keeping secrets from the boys. Turns out, Will isn't either.

Home Is Where The Heart Is.

They say home is where the heart is. Your heart belongs to the four boys you call your best friends. Also known as - four important times the guys told you they loved you.

Will Miller

Champagne Fuelled Confessions.

You come home drunk, and have something burning you need to tell Will.

Best Friend's Brother.

You've known Benny for years. You've had a crush on his brother Will for years, too.

Frankie Morales

Find You.

A bad date brings Frankie Morales to your door at the perfect time.

Rain Soaked Romantic.

Frankie will run across town in the rain if it means finally telling you how he feels.

Santiago Garcia

This Is The Way It Always Goes.

Santiago always comes crawling back. You convince yourself this is the last time - but you both know that's not true.

Precious Girl.

A chance meeting with your Dad's best friend at 2am.

Benny Miller

Adrenaline.

Ben needs a way to work off his post match energy. You.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The Last of Us

Joel Miller

Pretty When You Cry. ❁

Joel realises his morals are fucked. You realise you like it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Succession

Stewy Hosseini

Clandestine. ✯

You and Stewy know it's wrong. So why, pray tell, does it feel so right?

Fully Clothed.

Being Stewy's assistant has its perks.

Consequence.

Stewy's actions have unexpected consequences.

Needy.

You've been waiting all day for Stewy to get home. He loves it.

Play Pretend.

The classic fake dating trope, with a twist.

The Place Where It All Began.

You reunite with Stewy at your high school reunion. Turns out, he's been waiting for you, all this time.

Risky.

The thrill of being caught makes it all the more exciting.

Kendall Roy

Me and You.

You quit as Kendall's assistant. He's been waiting for this day.

Illicit Affair.

You're Matssons wife. You're also in love with Kendall Roy.

Forced Proximity.

The classic only one bed trope, this time with your emotionally unavailable boss.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The Bear

Carmen Berzatto

The Roommate Collection. ✯❁

A collection of fics based on being roommates with Carmen.

Vienna.✯

Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Nothing is the same.

Carmen. ❁

Carmen. Your Carmen.

Denial. ❁

Carmy can’t keep pretending.

Mechanic!Carmen.

Inspired by that picture of JAW in a crop top.

Perfectionist. ❁

Your boyfriend being a professional chef has its perks. Especially when it comes to gingerbread houses.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

9-1-1

Evan Buckley

Lightning Strike. ❁

The two of you deal with the aftermath of Bucks trauma.

Fire Hazard. ❁

The story of your firehouse nickname - and Buck unable to handle you in a sundress.

That Old Cliche. ❁

You swore you’d never give in to the best man and maid of honour cliche. And then you met Evan Buckley.

Eddie Diaz

Best Seat in the House.

Blame it on the moustache.

Evan Buckley & Eddie Diaz

The Look of Love. ❁

You, Buck and Eddie are absolutely, undeniably, head over heels in love with each other. It seems like everyone can see it except for the three of you.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Sons of Anarchy

Jax Teller

Heatwave. ❁

You cut Jax's hair. He can't keep his hands to himself.

Sundress Season. ❁

It’s sundress season. Jax can’t keep his hands to himself (again).

Filip 'Chibs' Telford

Teach Me How to Ride. ❁

Chibs is teaching you how to ride (in more ways than one).

Handled.

You and Chibs have been walking the line for a little too long.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Challengers

Two Can Play That Game.

You’re cheating on Patrick. You’re not proud of it, but it just… happened. Patrick’s cheating on you, too. He never meant for it to happen, but it just… did. Imagine the surprise from both of you when you find out that Art Donaldson is caught up right in the middle.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Steve Harrington

Cherry. ✯❁

The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.

Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue.

An engagement party, your childhood best friend, one too many glasses of champagne. What could go wrong?

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Rivals

Declan O’Hara

Forbidden Fruit. ❁

That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.

Shut Up and Drive.

It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? The one person who riles you up the most is also the only person that can calm you down.

Man of The Hour.

The sexiest thing about a man is his moustache morals.

Rupert Campbell Black

February Sky.

The highs are so high, but the lows are so low.

Golden Girl.

After years of keeping your private life private, everybody’s suddenly talking about your new boyfriend. When it rains, it pours.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

someone, reading my writing: wow great story!

me, sticking my hands in the plotholes: thanks it has pockets :)

before you jerk it to another fetishized dbf joel fic read something new, think critically, and do something with what you learn

applied to fandom: accessible anti racist policy/practice

racism and structural violence: interconnected threats to health equity

Racism, whiteness, and burnout in antiracism movements: How white racial justice activists elevate burnout in racialjustice activists of color in the United States

racial equity tools

anti-racism resources (the beginning is more local to this org, but there's more later in the list)

anti-racism resources for white people

recources for white people to learn and talk about race and racism

this blog post from 2020 that is more relevant than ever:

I am Black. This is what I Need (& what I Don’t) from White Allies:

Sugar on the Rim vol. II

bruce wayne x afab!reader

aka the billionaires new friend

part one

warnings: heavily implied that reader is a virgin, age gap (bruce is older than reader), smut, oral fem!receiving, nervous but enthusiastically consenting reader

You’d tried to calm your nerves but they couldn’t be helped.

You’re anxious about everything, all of it. What he wants you to do, what he’s expecting you do, whether it’ll hurt, whether you’re ready.

You think you trust Bruce, but you also know that these things are different for men and women. You don’t necessarily expect that he’ll have a mind for what you’ll need, but honestly, neither do you. You don’t know what to do to make this easier for yourself—you don’t know what to do at all. 

You bought the lingerie, you’ve got it on under your clothes and it feels like a costume. You can’t tell if that aids or worsens the anxiety. 

You’re fidgeting with the hem of your skirt and you wish you could quit it, you’re radiating enough nervous energy as it is, you don’t need to be sending him visual cues on top of it. 

Bruce holds your free hand in his as he guides you through the manor, you think it’s a different section than you’ve seen before. His hand engulfs yours unfairly as he leads, but the touch of his skin is so warm and inviting that you can’t tell if your hand is still shaking under it. If it is, he pretends not to notice.

He guides you up the stairs and into a corridor and then another before you arrive at a set of double doors. You’ve never seen double doors on the inside of a house before.

He lets you in ahead of him, and you have a distinct thought that you’re glad he can’t see the look of awe on your face as you walk in. His bedroom has an entire living room inside of it, and altogether it’s bigger than your whole apartment. A maroon couch and matching chairs surround a grand fireplace at the front of the room and the resulting glow from the active embers has the area shrouded in a warm light ahead of the shadows filling the rest.

You glance past the seating at his bed; large and proud. It’s definitely bigger than a king sized, with an overhead canopy and streams of dark burgundy curtains draping down from the corners. There’s another set of closed double doors past the bed, you imagine leading to the bathroom.

The end of the room displays a large window seat that looks like it’s never been used, and vast tinted windows. You look up to find the ceiling higher than you’ve ever seen in a bedroom with a very expensive chandelier hanging over it all.

He takes your arm, steering you out of your wonderment and leads you towards the couch rather than the bed, gesturing for you to sit down with him. You do, quietly glad when he positions himself so that you’re close to each other but not pressed right up against you. He’s able to relax his body more than you’re able to fake it on yourself, and you think your thoughts must be vibrating out of you by now.    

One hand comes to rest on your thigh as his other nudges your cheek towards him. “Hey, nothing’s happening right now. No need to be nervous.”

You nod blankly, but your thoughts are running wild with everything that you very much are nervous about.

He takes your hand in his, rubbing circles with his thumb. 

“You’ve got to relax,” he coos, “Remember what I said?”

You take a breath, “You’re not going to throw me in the deep end.”

“Exactly,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Just wanna make you feel good, right?”

You nod, easing your posture.

He looks you in the eye, “You gonna let me?”

You hum, nodding again.

“Good girl,” he purrs, pulling away.

You quickly find that the distance is not at all what you want, and you decide to push forward—as forward as you can—sitting up again to peel your jacket off. He watches you move with a look in his eyes, you take it for intrigue but it may just as well be something akin to pride. Pride in you? He’s openly flirted, kissed you, and straight up propositioned you for sex—but sure, he’s proud of you for taking your jacket off.

Your nerves transition into insecurity before you can catch them, and you’re starting to feel a little stupid, like a child playing pretend.

You watch tentatively as he tilts his head at you, running his own assessments of your actions. 

“Will you come sit on my lap?” he asks you after a moment. 

You suddenly become acutely aware of the amount of air in your lungs. This feels like a big request and you’re not even sure how to take his meaning. Does he want you to sit sideways? Your back to his front? Or fully straddle him? 

He wants whatever you want, he’d said. What do you want?

You glance down at his thighs, covered by fabric more expensive than you can imagine. Positive confirmation rings through your head immediately, willing you to push yourself forward a little more. 

You reposition yourself over him, straddling his lap in spite of your nerves.

Again, he looks pleased. Happy even. One of his hands comes to stroke soothing patterns across your lower back, the other resting on your waist. 

He makes sure to catch your gaze, “You’ll tell me if you want to stop.” 

He follows when your eyes stray, “Yes?”

“Yes.”

He places a tender kiss on your cheekbone, “How did shopping go?”

“Um, good. It was good. One of the sales girls helped me,” your breath is shaky as he kisses your jawline.

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I, uh, I just went to this little boutique up on third street,” he places another kiss on the column of your throat as you talk. “Um, it took longer than I thought it would. There were so many choices.”

His hands come up to soothe over your ribs, pulling you a little closer as they do. He hums for you to keep talking, his kisses continuing to lower until they’re down to your collarbone, though they remain relatively chaste.

“I—I didn’t really know what to look for,” you admit, breath shaky as you exhale. 

“But you like it?”

“Yeah, I—I do.”

He hums, smiling against your skin. His fingers inch under the seam of your shirt, caressing your waist. “Can I take this off?”

You nod timidly, trying not to seem so on edge with anticipation. You’re not confident that he can’t see right through you.  

He presses another chaste kiss to your neck upon receival of the permission, and your shirt begins to come off slowly, his hands skimming every new bit of skin revealed. As he pulls it over your head, he glances down at the baby pink bralette you’d picked out for yourself.

He groans quietly as he takes in the sight, “Oh, pretty girl. Beautiful girl,” He noses at your chest, leaving little kisses where his lips make contact with your skin, “Look at you. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your stomach flutters as his hair tickles your cheek. His hands roam up your sides, stopping to stroke placid circles along the sides of your breasts.

His touch makes its way around your back, expertly undoing your bra clasp without a second thought. Your bra hangs forward a bit off your shoulders, but he leaves the work of entirely removing it to you. And you do, with more confidence than you’d imagined yourself mustering.

He immediately shows his appreciation, kissing and caressing your chest with lover-like admiration. Your head falls back involuntarily as he noses at your soft skin.

He’s breathing heavy when he pulls back, humming low and deep before lifting you up off his lap to stand. The sudden shift has you a bit thrown off, working to catch up as he kneels down in front of you and repeats his earlier process with your skirt—kissing your thighs and tugging the fabric down bit by bit.

When it’s discarded on the floor you stand only left in your underwear, the lace practically illuminated against your skin.

He looks up at you from his place on the floor and smiles as he takes in the sight of your body. His hands find your hips as he asks you, “Has anyone ever seen you like this before?”

You hesitate for half a second before answering truthfully.

His smile grows, “No, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s nodding, “Yeah, I know.”

As he rises to stand he scoops you up by the back of your thighs and lifts you in the air with no discernable effort. Now at face level with him, you get a bit bolder and lean in to kiss him. He kisses you back, pleased, beginning to walk the two of you over towards the bed.

He sets you down gently atop the soft mattress, kisses pushing you backwards to lie back on the bed. He scoops your wrists up and leisurely moves your arms up above your head. His grip is benign as he releases one hand in favor of holding your jaw. Your kiss is deep and controlled on his part, but in a way that makes you feel light in the head. You like the cloudy-sensation very much.

After a while, he pulls back to look at you with clouded eyes. 

He practically purrs, “You’re such a kind girl. So sweet to everyone, all the time. Will you let me be sweet to you?”

Your breath is shaky as you nod, attempts at hiding your anticipation failing.

He nods back at you with a faux-sympathy across his face. “Let me hear you say it.”

You force air into your lungs, giving you the willpower to speak the words. “Will you touch me? Please?”

The corners of his lips turn up, “Of course, sweet girl.”

He nips at your jaw as his hands travel down, petting the inside of your thighs with a touch so feather light it almost tickles.

Your knee jerks inward towards his hand, your body desperately seeking out more of this new sensation. He obliges, tracing his touch back up, up, up until his hand dips under the lace trim of your panties, skimming over your clit. Your hips flinch back away from him momentarily in surprise, only to press back forward a second later.

He actually laughs at the action, like it’s endearing. You feel a little silly for it, but you’re not given much time to dwell as he persists, brushing against you with a bit more pressure.

He tilts his head, watching your expression carefully with a remarkably pleased look on his own face. “How’s that, sweet girl?”

You nod, beside yourself. “Feels good,” you whimper. “Feels really good..”

You don’t necessarily mean to, but your hips grind up against his touch, your body too mesmerized with the sensation to remember to be embarrassed.

He’s certainly not complaining about it though, his quiet coos encouraging you to chase the feeling. 

He lets you grind up against his hand, taking in the needy look on your face with contentment.

“Poor girl,” he tuts. “Just need somebody to take care of you, huh?”

That makes your cheeks burn, but your attention finds itself more concerned with the urge to squeeze your thighs together.

You whine when he pulls his hand back out of your underwear, only for him to stand resolute in his actions. 

“Not yet, sweet thing,” he hums, pressing you back down to the bed with a light but firm touch when you try to sit up. 

He hushes you gently, murmuring for you to be patient as he shifts his position over you. 

He starts to move down your body, leaving kisses in his wake. The sensation of his lips tracing down your stomach has you feeling butterflies.

By the time he reaches your waistline you’re borderline dizzy from the anticipation, squeezing your legs together in an attempt to alleviate the ache.

He pauses there for a moment, torturously, and noses at the seam of your panties. A whine from you has him chuckling and finally moving to where you need him.

He kisses your clit over your underwear and you’re fighting thoughts of embarrassment over how sure you are he can taste how wet you are over the fabric.

It doesn’t seem to be enough for him though, as he tugs your panties down slowly, kissing your thighs as he goes.

Bruce’s hands hold onto your waist as he eats you out, holding you in place with an easy grip. 

You squirm against the feel of his tongue and you can’t quite figure out what to do with your hands. You almost wish he’d made you keep them above your head but really you’re not sure you’d be able to keep it together if he had. You’re not sure you’re keeping it together now.

He groans against your pussy, and one of your hands flies to grip his hair without permission from your brain. If you’re being honest with yourself though, your brain isn’t really the one calling the shots anymore.

You gasp when he licks a bold stripe, “Bruce—”

He groans again, briefly breaking away from you. “Oh, say that again.”

You sigh out, “Bruce, please.” 

He makes a pleased hum. “Good girl,” he murmurs before diving back in. 

He complies with your pleas generously, giving you more. He’s gradual but resolute as he inserts two fingers into you, giving you the time to adjust. But he’d evidently done a very thorough job prepping you for it, you’re so wet that the initial entry doesn’t sting like you’d expected. No, rather the first thing you register is closer to pleasure. A lot closer.

He begins to pump in and out of you at he continues to suck at your clit, and somewhere during you have a distinct thought of “oh this is it.”

You let out a little gasp and for once, you break out of your own head and just relish in the way his fingers curl inside you.

The way your thighs squeeze around him as you come, doesn’t hinder him one bit, only has him applying his ministrations with more intent. It doesn’t take long for the trembling of your body to give way to full on shaking, your body stuttering beneath him.

He continues working at you the entire way through your orgasm, until you’re flinching from overstimulation. 

He gives you one more lick before looking up at you with hooded eyes. “Y’taste sweet too, you know that?”

You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks as he starts to move back up to face-level, kissing the high point of your cheekbone.  

He pulls down on your bottom lip, your slick wet against your mouth.

You open without question, a clouding urge to please him the only thing running through your mind. 

He grumbles a low, pleased sound as you do, moving his hand only to provide room for him to kiss you again.

He sits back up over you and starts unbuttoning his shirt and you realize only now that he’s still fully dressed. 

He glances down to his belt as he undoes the buttons. 

“Will you help me out, sweet girl?”

You blink a couple times before registering the request, still overwhelmed by how quickly and skillfully he’d made you come. 

You struggle a bit to push yourself up into a sitting position, but he supports you by your waist, nipping along your jaw as encouragement.

Your hands shake as you undo the clasp, and while you’re still very much eager, if not moreso, you’re suddenly confronted with the very real possibility that you’re about to have your limits pushed. He ate you out and did a damn good job, stands to reason that he’d want you to return the favor.

So it takes you by surprise when he’s nudging you back against the pillows, removing his pants himself.

He keeps you occupied with an intense kiss as he does, and the distraction so smooth it’s almost like it’s rehearsed. 

You follow his lead easily, though surprised by his lack of desire to get his fill too.

He drapes himself over you nicely, his size easily dwarfing you out. He’s quick to block your chin from tilting down, gently bringing your face back up to meet his. 

He shakes his head lightly, murmuring, “Don’t worry about that. I got you.”

You are worried about it, but you trust Bruce, you know you do now.

You feel the weight of his cock against your stomach, at this exact moment, feeling like not much more than a daunting task.

“S’alright, sweet girl,” he lulls, brushing your hair back. “Okay?”

As heavy as the simple question is, you don’t need to think about it before you’re nodding and moving your hand to hold onto his bicep.

He peppers kisses all over your face as he starts to push in, effectively starting to distract you from the pain of the stretch. He hushes your whines soothingly and kneads at your waist with confident hands.

Your arms lock around his shoulders on instinct, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to convince yourself he’s almost all the way in, but you know you’ve got aways to go.

He pauses halfway, imploring you to open your eyes so he can check up on you properly.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he softly urges.

You will yourself to blink up at him and try to take on the challenge of both him and his gaze. Surely, an impossible task.

But you manage shaky eye contact that occasionally gives way to glancing down at his lips. 

It doesn’t feel good yet, but it only makes you more eager to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you nod, taking a breath. “You can keep going.”

He waits to find that reassurance in your eyes before he continues to push in, bestowing you a deep kiss in reward for your bravery.

Once he’s nearly bottomed out he waits a moment, then begins to rock in and out slowly, letting you get used to a starter of the sensation.

He brushes your hair back, weaving through the strands. “There we go,” he coos as you look down between you. “Doing so good.”

Your gasp is louder than they had been before, and closer to a sigh now. 

He’s fucking you gently, with a decorum that exceeds what you’d earlier told yourself you were stupid for hoping for.

It doesn’t take long at all for his movement to start to feel really good and your grip around his shoulders comes around to a different kind of intensity.

He noses against your jaw, applying kisses whenever  convenient. “‘S that feel good, sweet girl? Hm?”

He hits a particularly deep spot in you immediately after and it makes you borderline squeak. He huffs out a laugh that’s nothing short of affectionate. 

“Yeah?”

He then attacks that spot with extra intention, hitting it absolutely expertly every time. He speeds up a little, lips latched onto your neck as he fucks you nice and deep.

He drops a hand down between you and starts rubbing circles onto your clit with a pace that makes you want to scream.

You can’t help the moan you release when he teeths at your neck, clearly aiming to drive you crazy. But damn if he isn’t going about it the right way.

His circles pick up pace and you can be sure you’re leaving nail marks on his back. He seems to only get more encouraged by your sounds, working you closer and closer to the edge with every whimper.

He finally lets you over after a minute of shamelessly relishing in your moans, himself following close after.

He continues moving in and out of you until you’ve both completely finished, slowly coming to a stop. 

You get a moment to catch your breath before he pulls out delicately. You don’t even realize he’s moved before he’s got his boxers back on and is halfway to the bathroom.

You’re a little alarmed by the sudden shift in proximity, though you guess that’s the playboy experience, isn’t it? After a second you hear water running and assume he’s taking a shower.

You push yourself to sit up fully, minding your achy thighs, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You glance at the foot of the bed where your underwear lies, then back over by the couch where the rest of your clothes lay discarded. You briefly contemplate how quickly you can get your clothes back on when the bathroom doors open again.

You glance up at Bruce, dazed, who looks surprised himself to see you sitting up. As he makes his way back to the bed you notice the supplies he has in tow and your brain begins to slowly start turning its gears again.

You don’t realize the glass of water in his hand is for you until he’s pushed it into your palm. 

His other hand carries a wet wash cloth that you, again, aren’t able to register the purpose for until it’s in action. 

“Drink,” he tells you as he spreads your knees apart gently, wiping away the mess between your legs with a notable amount of compassion for your sensitivity.

You do, gulping a few as he finishes, tossing the rag in a hamper before setting your glass down on the side table.

Your eyes return to the end of the bed and you nearly decide to get up, but he’s still standing so close to you, you’re not sure this is the right time.

You seem caught halfway between decisions now, you know you do. You’d honestly preferred when you thought he’d just ditched you for a shower because at least then this part wouldn’t be so awkward.

He watches you closely as you deliberate and seems to draw a conclusion about your hesitation rather quickly. His brow pinches as he processes, tilting his head at you. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” he says, bewildered. “Right?”

“I—” you falter, looking to the couch and back to him again. “No?”

He stares at you for a moment with an expression you can’t define.

“Lay down.”

You don’t have a second to process before he’s climbing back in bed too, pulling you down to lay your head on the pillow.

He pulls the covers over you and splays an arm over your waist, clearly firm in his decision for you to stay.

Your eyes are heavy and his bed is so comfortable, it’s difficult for you to even consider either of you wanting you to leave now.

Maybe you’ll just sleep for a little while, get some of your energy back. 

The way he traces soft patterns across your stomach certainly encourages the idea and doesn’t give you much power to resist.

You let your eyes flutter shut to the feather-light touch and listen to the steady deepness of his breaths.

Well, this isn’t so bad either.

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