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Everyone's Watching Him (But He's Looking At Her) (4)

Actor!Bucky Barnes × Assistant!Fem!Reader

< < PART 3 | Series Masterlist

Summary: Bucky begrudgingly undertakes his press tour and PR relationship with Sharon as you question if you can continue your job whilst watching him fall in love with someone else.

Warnings: shy & insecure reader, angst, idiots in love, miscommunication, soft fluff and an extremely happy ending 👀

Word count: 4.0k

A/N: photo credit by @bwsebastianstan, dividers by @vase-of-lilies

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You can’t even look at him.

That’s what destroys Bucky the most.

The past week he’s been completely deprived of the soothing comfort he feels when your eyes meet his in a crowded room.

You’re seemingly so disgusted that he would stoop so low as to fake an entire relationship to promote some stupid movie that you can’t even look at him.

Between all the cameramen, producers, make up artists and rotating allotment of interviewers, whose eyes are all focussed on him, you’re the only person in the room who isn’t gazing in his direction, when your attention is the only one he cares about.

Each time he looks up, eyes instinctively searching for you, it feels like a dagger twisting in his heart to find you’re still acting as if he’s not there. Bucky’s found himself perpetually stuck in your blind spot, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt as alone and desperate for someone to notice him whilst simultaneously being the centre of attention, in all his life.

No one’s interested in the movie, the intricate plot, the dynamic between the characters or even the difficult stunts he performed himself, all anyones asking questions about is Bucky and Sharon’s supposed relationship and the manner in which they got together after months of filming.

He can’t blame Sharon for playing the part perfectly, like the extraordinary actress she is, this is her chance to create a name for herself in this ruthless business and she’s pulling out all stops to make it count.

But Bucky hates it.

This is not why he became an actor and it would mortify his younger self to think this is all his career boils down to.

“And cut!” Someone yells and all of a sudden the room bursts to life again. He’s barely focussed on the questions being thrown at him, opting to let Sharon take most of them because it feels less dishonest that way. The fewer words he says, the less lies come out of his mouth and it makes him feel ever so slightly less guilty lying to the entire world.

Sharon squeezes his hand to grab his attention and gives him a look which screams ‘try harder’, but because they’re surrounded by a hoard of people she can’t actually say it aloud.

Maria’s on the phone beside one of the cameramen, and even through all the bustling noise, he can hear the distinct sound of her making arrangements for ‘the happy couple’. Dread settles in his stomach which sinks beneath the floor like an anvil.

To top it all off, he looks beyond where Maria is standing to find you busy discussing something which much be exceedingly important with some other crew members. Normally you’d be watching on with a reassuring smile, and when his gaze would meet yours, everyone else would melt away and it would seem like you were the only two people in the whole world. But he can’t exactly blame you for doing your job.

Bucky suddenly feels extremely claustrophobic, caged in by the bright lights, cameras and people working in the limited space provided by the set. It’s like his body is viscerally holding in his last breath until you turn around and look at him, and he’s suffocating waiting for something he intrinsically knows won’t happen.

He stands up, waving off the make-up artists who are rushing over from their station to ensure Sharon and himself look perfect for the next interview.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He mumbles, not waiting for permission he knows he wouldn’t receive before trudging away to his dressing room.

Bucky relishes the moment alone, away from the mayhem, having the space to take a breath and calm the swarming anxiety in his chest. It’s not as effective as the comfort you provide whenever you are in his presence, but he knows it’ll have to do for now.

At that moment Becks’ name flashes on his phone and guilt pangs in his stomach that he’s forgotten about until now. He’s been ignoring her calls all week - his excuse is that he’s been insanely busy since the premiere, but he knows the real reason is because she’ll be disappointed he hasn’t told you what she could so plainly read on his features when the three of you were in the same room.

He hits ignore once again with the internal promise that once he summons enough courage to disclose his feelings for you, he’ll return her call. Ringing with either fantastic news, or in need of consoling a broken heart.

“Bucky?” He hears your voice call his name and he immediately turns around to the source, heart skipping a beat seeing your eyes land on him for what feels like the first time since under the dim light outside the premiere venue a week ago. He takes a couple seconds to commit your features to memory, knowing burning the image in the back of his mind will help him gather the strength he needs to return to the monotonous stream of interviews.

“Yes?” Bucky enquires to break the silence, something that even now, when he’s positive you’re avoiding him because you’re opposed to his promotional methods, has never been awkward between the two of you.

“They need you back out there.” Before he can even so much as thank you for the instruction, you’ve closed the door and he’s all alone again.

He can barely function only seeing glimpses of you. There’s a certain quality about you that no matter how tired he is of answering questions and interacting with people, he’s never too fatigued to be around you. Time spent with you allows him to recharge, and without that it feels like he’s running on empty.

Bucky takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and picturing how he felt the night after the infamous Alexander Pierce interview when you stayed up with him until the early hours of the morning, laughing at old movies and throwing popcorn in each others mouths, before he carried you to bed and seriously considered climbing in next to you.

Those are the memories with you he cherishes, even more so now that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and is what will keep him going for the rest of the day. Probably even the rest of his life.

And with that happy thought, he’s ready to take on the next interview.

* * *

You feel your heart sink below your stomach for what feels like the thousandth time this week.

Each interviewer is asking the same damn question, ‘how did the two of you get together?’, which of course prompts Sharon to deliver the same damn response each time. You could recite her answer word for word at this point, but it doesn’t make hearing it yet again any less painful.

It’s a recurring nightmare you’re unable to wake from.

You do your best to keep busy, which isn’t all that difficult when there’s a million different interviewers rotating through who you need to provide copies of Bucky’s ‘no go’ list in an attempt to prevent a repeat of what happened on Alexander Pierce’s late night show.

But Bucky and Sharon are the eye of the storm, everything revolves around them, so it’s impossible to avoid their relationship altogether, nor the hollow, sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach when you catch a glance of them lovingly smiling at each other.

With each rotation of interviewers your resilience dwindles further. It’s only been a week, but you’re just about ready to break. The doting glances, the constant stroking of his arm, the intertwined fingers, adoring hand kisses, are each an additional stab to the heart which brings you closer to your demise.

You really would think of them to be such a cute and affectionate couple if one half of the pair wasn’t the beginning and end of your whole world.

You want to go home and cry your eyes out until the headache you get from being dehydrated is worse than the ache in your chest from your breaking heart.

As someone yells ‘cut’, the room coming to life with a frenzy, you do your best to fight the urge to look at the main stage where Bucky is currently sitting. All your instincts tell you to sneak a glance, but you know deep down seeing them together will bring about a heartache you’re sure you’ll never recover from.

So as arduous as it is to avoid staring at the same eyes that bring you a never ending supply of comfort and reassurance, and that seem to soften each and every time they notice you, without fail, you choose not to. Because at this point, the fear of more agony outweighs the morsel of solace you might find.

Why are you subjecting yourself to this?

To him, you’re just an assistant. Someone to do the organisational tasks that he either doesn’t have time for or purely doesn’t want to. A job multiple people who aren’t life shatteringly in love with him are qualified for.

You’re positive there will not be a day that goes by in which you will not be in love with James Buchanan Barnes, but quitting as his assistant would allow you a small fragment of peace that constantly being around him and Sharon will never allow.

That even if he isn’t yours, you wouldn’t have to watch him be someone else’s.

Perhaps that’s the most tranquillity this cruel world can grant you now.

Are you really about to do this?

In your moment of reservation you make the mistake of looking over to Bucky, in hope that seeing the handsome face which never fails to give life to butterflies in your stomach, will remind you why you do this job, but what you see instead does the exact opposite.

Sharon leans over the minimal space between the two chairs and kisses him, lingering for a few agonising seconds before pulling away, all toothy smiles as they intertwine hands.

Your heart crumbles into irreparably small pieces and you have to force yourself to heave a shaky breath.

It is unfortunately not the first time you’ve seen the two share a kiss, but you determine to yourself it will be the last.

You’ve made your mind up. You can’t endure this any more. You’re done.

After the last interview tonight, you’ll hand in your resignation.

* * *

As you knock on the door and twist the handle in response to Bucky’s mumbled ‘come in’, you feel yourself approaching the bottom of the seemingly eternal abyss you’ve been falling into since learning that Bucky is dating Sharon.

When you feel the sensation while sleeping, you get the relief of waking up, but the past week has been a nonstop, agonising plunge.

Though you’re nervous about how he’ll react, and petrified that in a moment of weakness you’ll disclose romantic feelings you want to keep secret in order to justify your departure, you’re certain this is the right decision, and that provides you the drop of courage you need.

“Hi.” Even in just the single syllable you can tell he’s completely worn out, but there’s a hope and longing in his eyes at the recognition it’s you who’s entered his dressing room that even his exhaustion can’t quell.

He hasn’t even put up a defence to what you’re about to do, but even just by looking at him, at those damn steel blue eyes which shine bright enough to illuminate even your darkest days, you question if you can go through with it.

Bucky looks at you expectantly, knowing you must have come in for something. There’s a small part of you, despite what you’re about to do, that makes your stomach clench at the thought that even though you’ve been avoiding him the last week, he still smiles when he sees you.

“I’m handing in my two weeks.” You manage to say, but your voice is weak and lacking any kind of conviction. It sounds more like a question than a statement.

“What?” His smile turns into an expression of shock in the time it takes you to blink. He stands, knocking his chair backwards, but his eyes are wide and only focussed on you. “I don’t accept your resignation.”

“Well then it’s a good thing it’s technically Maria’s management company that employs me. I just came here as a professional courtesy.” You turn to leave, unable to look at the undeniable hurt in his eyes and on his features you’ve caused. That will be your legacy to him, your last action in his life will be wrought with the agony of abandoning him.

“Is that all I am to you? A formality?” His words make you pause. As much as you need to move on from your own heartache of watching him in a relationship with someone else, you can’t leave knowing he believes he means so little to you.

You turn back to look at him and it feels like you’ve been shot in the chest, seeing desperation and hopelessness brimming in his eyes. You’re the cause of that.

“Not even close, Bucky. You mean so much more to me, that’s the whole point.” You put all your effort into making your voice level and believable. You might be leaving him but the reasoning behind it is because you care too much about him, not too little. With time, you hope he can understand that.

“The whole point of what?”

“Why I’m quitting - do you really think I’d be leaving if you meant nothing to me?” There’s a flash of something in Bucky’s eyes that you can’t quite place, perhaps something of a revelation, but so much more profound.

“Then why are you leaving?” You can feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You are dangerously close to revealing deeper feelings you promised you’d keep to yourself, that you wouldn’t divulge to Bucky and put him in the awkward position of having to turn you down because he’s already in love with another woman.

The searing pain of vocalising your devotion, the inevitability of being rejected by him overcomes you and you find your heart won’t let the words of affection leave your lips.

You take a deep, steadying breath and find yourself staring at the floor merely because you don’t have the strength to look into his bewitching eyes.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Is what you say halfheartedly, though you do believe it. Surely it’s too late now to be of any consequence. He’s fallen for another woman, you’re just the expendable assistant, nothing can change that now.

“Yes it does! You matter to me, so why you’re choosing to leave my life matters to me.” Your heart aches. You might matter to him, but not in the way your heart needs. Not in the all consuming, life changing, inescapable way that plagues every second of his life as he does yours.

You can feel your heart beating in your throat as you respond to him.

“All I want is for you to be happy, Buck, and you’re happy with her. I’m not going to jeapordise that, but it doesn’t mean I need to torture myself by having a front row seat to your love story.”

“Doll, you are my happiness!” You try to ignore the way your stomach flips and heart clenches as a result of his words. He’s just trying to make you stay… he doesn’t truly mean that. But then he continues and your world comes to a complete standstill. “If you’re referring to Sharon and I, that’s all fake! I’m not dating her, I’ve never been interested in her like that, it’s all for PR.”

Your hands start shaking and knees feel weak as your mind works to process his words. This can’t be happening. It was all fake? But then your mind flashes back to the fondness in Bucky’s eyes as he looked at Sharon at the premiere, as well as the way your heart ruptured when Maria confirmed their relationship and you can’t give your heart permission to believe him.

“No… no, that’s not what Maria said.” You stammer, replaying her words in your mind as you had done continuously since that infamous night to ensure you hadn’t misinterpreted them.

“What did Maria say?” Bucky’s voice has an edge of irritation which is hard to miss.

“She said Sharon was your girlfriend, real girlfriend… that you’d started dating while filming together.” Maria had been sure, unwavering, almost clinically so. She left no room for doubt.

“I’m gonna kill her.” Bucky mutters, almost to himself. “Doll, none of it was real, purely written into the contracts for promoting the movie. I think Maria saw how I feel about you and for her own twisted reasons wanted to push us apart.” You have to remind yourself to breathe because every single cell in your body is so overwhelmingly focussed on Bucky’s words that even your vital functions have stopped.

“How you feel about me?” You repeat his words breathlessly, unable to process their true connotation for if you’re wrong, it would surely end your entire existence.

Bucky’s eyes stare into your soul in a way that they never have before. He looks resolute, but somehow simultaneously vulnerable. Though you’ve seen him at his lowest, the fragility he’s openly displaying makes you suspect that there was always one last wall he kept part of himself concealed behind, shielding himself from one last heartbreak he just couldn’t bare to endure.

You observe in his eyes he’s pulled that wall down, and it’s like you’re seeing him, all of him, for the first time. And you’ve never been more in love.

“I was gonna tell you last week, after the premiere, but then you left and…” He shakes his head as he gathers his thoughts. When he looks up his eyes are filled with intent and don’t leave your gaze as he steps closer. You allow him to grasp your hands in his, his thumbs swiping over the backs of your hands affectionately and it takes every ounce of strength in you not to melt into his warm, musky scented embrace. When Bucky speaks there’s a crack in his voice. “The thought of you leaving takes away all my air, I can’t fucking breathe thinking that in two weeks you’re going to walk out of my life and never look back. I need you. You are absolutely everything to me. You are in every moment of my life, regardless of if you’re actually present for it. It’s you I will always search for in a crowded room. Whose eyes I find solace in and whose smile gives my life purpose. I live to be the reason for that beautiful smile. You are who I want to tell every good piece of news to first. Whose hand I instinctively reach for when I need the reminder I’m not alone in this isolating spotlight. Every moment of my life revolves around you. You are the nucleus of my world that I cannot live without.”

“Bucky…” You feel like you’re about to collapse. Your mind is racing too fast for any coherent thoughts to form, but warmth and adoration fills your entire body like a sugar high.

“Doll, please, you are it for me. There is no one else, even if you do choose to leave. You are my definition of love. You will be the person who I compare everyone else to, and I can already tell you with absolute certainty that none of them will even come close. There will never be anyone else for me, because it always has been and always will be you.”

You feel like you’re floating on a cloud, euphoria flowing in your veins and a warmth blooming in your chest so fiercely it almost feels like an ache. Tears sting behind your eyes, but you compel yourself to not let them blur your vision. You want to remember the pure love and devotion in Bucky’s eyes, how he’s looking at you like you truly are the only one in the world for him. As if, when he looks at you, everything else becomes hazy and you’re the only thing he sees.

All those moments, all the shared tender glances and lingering touches, all the generously sweet words you hope implied more than a simple boss-assistant relationship, it wasn’t just your imagination wishing he reciprocated your feelings.

Bucky had felt it too.

It was all real. So earnestly real.

“Bucky…” You reach up and cup his cheek, wiping away a stray tear which gently trickles from the corner of his eye with your thumb. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes and savouring the care in your contact. His prosthetic hand, which is still holding yours, gives you an encouraging squeeze, and when he opens his eyes again, his gaze is overflowing with adoration. “You are my home. The only reason I was going to leave was because I didn’t want to watch you fall in love with someone else. Loving you comes as easy as breathing for me. There is no one else in the entire world that I will ever love in that way, only you.”

You don’t even have time to breathe, for when those words leave your lips Bucky decides he simply cannot wait a second longer before kissing you. Though, you’re not complaining, it’s an urge you’ve been supressing constantly since you started working for him.

This kiss starts fast and frantic, you’ve both waited entirely far too long to express your love that you’re eager to feel as much of each other as possible. Bucky’s hands roam around your back, pulling you flush with him as yours start by cupping his face, before tangling in the long strands of his hair.

But when the realisation hits you both that you don’t need rush, that in fact you’ve got the rest of your lives to explore and memorise the intricacies of each other, the kiss slows to a sensual make out, taking your time to enjoy each other and what you’ve been longing for since the moment you met.

“Bucky?” You mumble his name against his lips, but he doesn’t allow you to say more then a single word and take a quick breath before his lips have covered yours again. You’re not sure how long you’ve been kissing him, but he’s clearly not done with you yet.

“Mhmm.” He hums into your mouth, hands slipping below the hem of your shirt, gliding over the smooth, bare skin of your back, sending shivers down your spine. He touches you gently, like you’re a precious flower he doesn’t want to crush, but rather preserve and admire for years to come.

“Take me home.” He pulls back, and your lips already miss being connected to his. You’ll never get enough of him, even if you were to kiss him for the remainder of your days.

He looks at you with a fondness and amazement that makes you think he can’t quite believe you’re his, even though your heart has belonged to him for as long as you’ve known him.

You tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear so you can have an unobstructed view of how he’s looking at you, soaking up the confidence which inflates in your chest when he gazes at you as if you hang the moon and stars in the night sky.

“As you wish, my love.” Bucky affirms, the twinkle in his eye makes excitement surge in your stomach - the night is far from over. He kisses you once more, savouring the feeling and to tide you both over until you make it back to his place.

Bucky takes your hand and refuses to let go as he proudly walks with you by his side through the studio, not giving a damn who sees the two of you together.

If you’d like to see more of these two, make sure to let me know ♥️

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Everyone’s Watching Him (But He’s Looking At Her) [Actor!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @sunnyjane4 @valhalla-kristin @learisa @crispysublimecupcake @iamfandomwasted @blackwidownat2814 @hailey-holt @rosepetalsinwinter @wifeofbarnes @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @vicmc624 @oliviagreen99 @gabshouse @raging-panda @priya212 @highlyintelligentblonde @buckyseddie @erynnnn @endless-summer-soldier @one-shot-plus-size @takeabreathdearh @its703pm @nefelibatansoul @theweekndhistorybook @albinotigerpython @goldenharrysworld @buckyslove1917 @supersanelyromantic @gothkitteh @ahrahrahraha @hopelessromantic423 @misshale21 @happeevacationday @farfromjustordinary @blackgirlbydna @mrsgweasley @readreblogfics @ashenc-blog @redbarn1995 @thewackywriter @missvelvetsstuff @broadwaybabe18 @buckys2lut @arny-montana @calirindo @justfic @crazyunsexycool @helpishouldstudy @alluringsirensworld @sarahyk27 @aya-daydreams @hotleaf-juice @kareish @yukio369 @hjzmwoodz @sabbbsstuff @vespercarmichael @fanfic-freak-cevans @marygoddessofmischief @cevansswhore

good thing

word count: ~4k

warnings: smut (18+ only). also: established relationship, angst, non-planned pregnancy, implied sex-for-pay, age gap, language, x fem!reader

a/n: idk you guys. he is—as my middle schoolers would say—Him. it was bound to happen that i would write a pregnancy fic about this man. i will admit that i am weirdly nervous about sharing this fic so please be kind, friends✨🤗

“How long have you known?”

“Long enough.”

“Whose?”

“Not yours.”

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Commission - Bucky Barnes and his puppies for @allmyfavoritethings724! Please do not repost. Reblog to show support! Thank you!

Why do I have to team up with this idiot again? - (2018)

Marvel has announced a new show featuring The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (8 episodes apparently ). I can’t wait ^^

“Mine. Only mine.” || Leto Atreides x Reader Smut

gif made by Cass - please credit us if you use the gif.

Summary:  The time is finally right for Leto to claim you as his.

Warnings: graphic smut without plot & well… Duke Leto (how is it possible for a man to be that handsome?!)

Word count: circa 2140

Pairing: Leto Atreides x reader

Authors: Fenrir & Cass

After the door to the bathroom closed, Duke rested his blanched hands on the edge of the countertop and closed his eyes. 

Within his bathroom, you were removing your clothes and allowing the warm water to splash against your naked skin. The fragrance of his soap was going to linger on your skin and in your wet hair. His hitched breathing was exacerbated by hazy images of you scrubbing your breasts and the length of your legs. Leto's trousers tightened as he thought about the peaks of your breasts, the way your fingers moved within the tightness between your thighs. Leto hadn't touched a woman for a long time; being a Duke of one of the Noble Houses was an incredibly significant role to play, and he barely had spare time. He married you for political reasons. There was never a proper time to consume the marriage, to claim you as his, and as Duke Leto Atreides was a man of honor, he wasn't inclined to push you. Spending time together meant having short conversations at breakfast or supper, saying goodnight once you were long asleep when he returned from important meetings, or just holding hands a little during official parties or meetings. However, the mere thought of your perfect skin and slight curves of your hips and waist was enough to drive him wild.

Under his uncomfortable pants, his cock hardened as his thoughts became clouded with you. He brought his palm onto the throbbing bulge, a small whimper falling from his mouth as he pressed down. A pulse of dull pleasure ran through his body as he rubbed himself over his clothes, drawing his lower lip between his teeth to muffle the threatening sounds. Duke wondered whether you were going to open the bathroom door and see him frantically jerking himself over a risque thought about you.

Although the warm water and your own touch felt wonderful on your skin, they couldn't compare to Duke's. You didn't experience much of it, but from what you did, you could tell you loved it already. Being a considerate wife, you understood that Leto Atreides was a busy man. Instead of pushing him, you gratefully accepted whatever he gave you. It was silly, but you fall for the Duke. It was just a political ploy, which made you feel silly. Though it was your duty, not a pleasure, you were completely charmed by Duke's looks and behavior toward you. Leto was respectful and caring. He always made sure you felt comfortable in every moment he spent with you or even when he was away. It was nearly impossible not to fall for this man.

You finished your shower and walked out of it to dry yourself, smiling at the soft scent lingering on your skin. It was his scent after all. Once you had dried your hair as much as possible, you wrapped the soft towel around your body. You took a deep breath and left the bathroom, not knowing what to expect.

His breath wavered as he fumbled for his buckle and unzipped himself, pushing the material of his briefs to the back of his thighs. A dreary relief filled his mind as he slowly pumped himself. There was a bathroom door between you and him, preventing you from seeing the leaking cock he held in his shaky hand. Before he continued yanking, he placed his hand in his mouth and gently licked it with his tongue. Moans emanated from his open mouth, gentle breaths, and whiny whimpers as he decided to take more comfortable position by sitting on the edge of his bed. As he jerked his hips and dragged his tongue against his bottom lip, he threw his head back. He thought about your fingers soaking into your tight pussy as the shower's waterfall drenched your skin. He imagined the soft moans you would make as he kissed the softness of your breasts, his tongue memorizing your taste as it touched your nipple. Your ass would be squeezed tightly after he sucked on your fingers, the taste of your pussy glistening on his tongue as he moved his fingers across your soaking folds. He wanted you to clench around him as you rubbed his curly hair, his name slipping from your lips.

Since you were barefoot, you left the bathroom quietly. At the unexpected sounds that came from Leto himself, I immediately perked up. Evidently, you weren't the only one who was impatient for any kind of contact. As luck would have it, Duke sat with his back to you on the edge of the bed. It was obvious what he was doing. As you slowly approached the bed, you climbed on it, sitting right behind him. Your only response to his attempt to turn around was a whisper. "Don't move." Your palm rested on his shoulder as your other hand moved down his still-covered chest.

A shiver ran down his spine as he was unaware you had joined him in the bedroom. While he did not respond out loud, he gave a nod to your whisper and leaned into the touch.

As you hummed, you kissed his shoulder before moving to his neck until you reached his ear. Your deep voice whispered, "Undress for me, my love."

Though he wasn't used to being given orders by women, you had control over him; after all, you were a Bene Gesserit sister. After he undressed and tossed his clothing on the marble floor, the Duke looked down at you, gazing into your eyes.

"Sit back down, just like a moment ago." You ordered, patting the place where he had been sitting.

Despite his reluctance, he followed your order.

"There's no need to give me that face." You chuckled as he sat back down beside you. As you moved closer, you wrapped your arms around his waist, nuzzling his shoulder. "I waited so long to finally be alone with you like this," your hand slowly moved up his chest, gently touching his skin as your other hand wrapped around his shaft. "But shall I be offended that my dear husband started without me?"

The moaning came out of his parted lips as Leto rolled his head down, resting its back on your shoulder. "I couldn't help myself, Y/N. Just thinking about you drove me insane."

Kissing him on the cheek, you purred softly. As your small palm moved up and down his cock, your other hand caressed his stomach. "I wouldn't mind if you joined me in the shower, love."

"I could, indeed." His body wash was already oozing from your wet body. This did not help his situation. “God, yes.” The words escaped his reddened lips before he could even think of what was happening. Your hand was gently massaging him, and your pretty mouth was looming closer to his.

With a soft smile on your lips, you whispered, "I waited so long for you and you never claimed me as yours. The image of you and my own hands wasn't enough when you were leaving me all alone here. I couldn't wait for your cock to stretch me out. I couldn't wait to yell your name so loud that everyone here knows that I belong to you."

The man's thoughts were erratic as he tasted your lips and tentatively caressed your tongue. "As I heard all of the sisters are skilled, I presume you can take care of your needs."

You kissed him softly and focused fully on his cock before saying, "You heard right but my hands can't compare to your touch, love. I was sure you knew this." You teased his tip with your thumb. You continued to massage his balls with the hand that was caressing his chest.

Leto rolled his head back and turned his head; he was kissing you, entangling his fingers in your hair as you touched his cock. "Fuck. Take off that towel."

Having asked so nicely, you gave him one last kiss before moving away and further down the bed. As you sat down, you removed your towel and threw it aside, presenting yourself fully to him.

Your naked body was scanned with administration by his eyes. "You're so perfect."

"Thank you," you whispered, moving your hand down your body. "It's all yours."

He touched your curve, repeating, "All mine."

"All yours. Till death separates us." You reminded him. Grabbing his wrist, you gently pulled him closer so you could cup his cheeks. Your thumbs caressed them. "My Duke. So strong, so perfect. Kiss me and claim me as yours only. I am begging you, love."

His lips quickly found yours, crushing on them.

You chuckled as you kissed him deeply, "No need to be so gentle with me, love. I am all yours, and I don't bite." You chuckled as you kissed him deeply. 

He towered over you fully as soon as you lied down on the bed. A boyish smile appeared on his lips as he reached for your breasts and squeezed the mounds. He tentatively pinched your nipples as you gasped, fearing that he had somehow hurt you. Your expression revealed pure bliss when he looked up at you. His hands gently caressed your stomach, hips, and thighs. When you inevitably left his room tomorrow morning, he didn't want to forget how you felt or what your skin felt like. With elation in his eyes, his fingers stopped over your pussy. Leto's hands moved back and forth across your stomach, his calloused hands caressing your hip before inserting two fingers into your pussy.

As your hand grabbed his shoulder, you gasped and let out a whimper. You already felt full from his fingers, and you wondered how full you would feel later. Rolling your hips in excitement, you purred loudly.

His fingers pumped as he flicked his tongue across your clit, gently sucking as you throbbed on his fingers. He curled his fingers soon after. Your body moved against him as you moaned his name like a desperate prayer, nearly begging with dwelling tears as his confidence soared. Every night he would have fallen on his knees and pleaded with whoever answered his prayers to let him taste you again, for you tasted like the forbidden fruit, dangerously intoxicating.

While arching your back, you moved your hand into his thick curls to pull them. Every time he touched you, you sang. "Oh, please have mercy on me, Leto!"

Despite the fact that it drove him crazy, he loved it so much. With his cock in hand, he stroked the shaft a few times before guiding it to your entrance and digging his hips deep into your body.

It didn't take Leto long to intertwine his fingers with yours. The sound of his cock gliding in and out of you made you hear how wet you were, which was a sound filthy enough to drive your senses wild. The sound of his skin slapping against yours in a quickening pace coupled with both of you being desperate for release. After eating you out, Duke was so irritable that he knew he wouldn't last long. It was heaven for him to feel your cunt swallow his length with such ease, pulsing around it.

Every time you held his hand, your grip grew tighter. You were turned on more by the sounds of skin hitting skin, your moans mixed with his groans. The climax was near, you could feel it as your walls tightened around his cock.

One of his arms slid under your back to pull your upper body closer to his chest. His thrusts became more violent soon as he increased his pace.

“Oh, sweet Y/N.” As he finally came, Leto grunted deeply, looking down to where your bodies had become one. Hot cords of cum spilled deep inside of you, which felt so right. While your cunt milked his twitching cock, Duke kissed your shoulder and then buried his face in your neck, completely driven by bliss.

With your nails marking his back, you finished with him, screaming his name so loudly that everyone probably heard you.

Instead of pulling away from you just yet, he laid on top of you, kissing your cheeks and neck.

Wrapping your leg around his waist, you kept him close. With a gentle stroke of his hair, you whispered, "Now I can call myself fully your wife. I think everybody heard me..."

"My guards definitely did."

As you kissed his cheek, you laughed, blushing slightly. "Then I hope they enjoyed it as much as I did."

Leto's brows furrowed a little, but shortly after he offered you a soft grin and whispered in your ear, "You are mine. Only mine. You’ll fell me stroking slowly inside of you every night as I whisper to you that you are only mine."

Well spotted Loki…