#... trying to think of buck wearing green...
There’s something about Eddie and Buck in the kitchen scene and then the balcony scene, where both times Eddie is dressed far more formally (BOTH times in a black shirt and green trousers) and Buck is in a hoodie.
Something about “I’m not really a guest” but Eddie maybe not feeling quite the same way about himself in Buck’s house, despite having a key, despite finding such comfort (3x09) and the ability to be emotionally vulnerable (3x12), and despite it being a safe place for Christopher (4x08).
Something about Eddie still holding back, being a little buttoned up, keeping a little figurative and literal distance (could you stand any further away in 5x04???)
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Green || Bucky Barnes
pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader
summary: three times bucky realized you were more than a friend and the one time he finally admitted it (based on events from tfatws)
a/n: finishing this in time for the season finale tomorrow! reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!
word count: 3.1k
warnings: mentions of reader wearing a short dress, jealous bucky
masterlist || request || taglist
“Nice of you guys to call me.”
Your hands in your jacket pockets, you announced your presence as you strolled up to the group of four men standing outside of the police station. You could basically feel the tension in the air as each man had a resolute expression written on all over their faces.
“What’s going on here?” You asked, slipping your hands out of your pockets and gesturing towards the group.
“What are you doing here?” Sam asked.
You might have been nicer about the situation if you weren’t utterly pissed that the two men hadn’t informed you about the mission that they had gone on.
“Incase you forgot, Sam, you’re not the only one who’s had to pick up where someone else left off. It’s my job to keep track of you guys.” You said. “... Also I’m Bucky’s emergency contact.”
“Well,” The blonde man leaning against the police cruiser said. “You’re a little late. I handled it.”
Looking up at the man in front of you, you gave him no inclination of defeat.
“You must be John Walker.” You said.
“So you’ve heard of me?” He smirked.
You crossed your arms, stepping away from the man who you had seen on television playing the role of Captain America. You had heard about the decision moments before the government had first displayed the impersonator on screen, but it had been too late for you to do anything about it or to inform Sam or Bucky in time for his appearance.
“I’ve heard of everyone.” You deadpanned.
“Yeah?” He asked, standing up straighter. “And who are you?”
Just as you were about to open your mouth, you felt Bucky’s hand land on your shoulder. Turning to glance at him, you watched as he shook his head, giving you a serious look. Despite the fact that you were now tasked with keeping track of the former members of the group of Avengers and were one yourself, you had been able to keep your identity a secret. Although to the world you were “Sorceress”- the Avenger with magical powers similar to those of Wanda Maximoff- to members of the team such as Bucky you were Y/n Y/l/n.
He didn’t trust John Walker and he didn’t want to bring you into their own mess. Although Bucky had been avoiding Sam’s text messages, Bucky had kept in constant touch with you since you first met him after he had come back from the Blip six months ago- even going as far as spending time together multiple times a week in person- not because you had to keep track of him, but because the two of you genuinely enjoyed spending time together.
You were the closest thing he had to normalcy and he didn’t want the knockoff version of his best friend messing it up not only for himself, but for you too.
However, you didn’t see much of a way out of it. You weren’t going to just leave Bucky and Sam to handle the situation on their own, but you also didn’t see a way that you could work alongside them and not have John and Lemar figure out your identity sooner or later.
Gently taking Bucky’s hand off of your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before dropping it, you reached out your hand to John Walker.
“Y/n Y/l/n.” You told him. “Sorceress... and I guess the current caretaker of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.”
Later, after the group had dispersed and you followed Sam and Bucky as they walked in the opposite direction, you were surprised when you heard Bucky’s tone of voice when he finally spoke up again.
“You shouldn’t have given him your name, Y/n.” He said.
You shrugged, hands tucked into your pockets once again. “It’s fine, Buck.” You assured him. “There wasn’t much else I could do. He was going to find out eventually-”
“Don’t act so casual about it. This is your identity- your life- and you’re just going to share it with some asshole like John Walker?”
“Woah!” You exclaimed, stopping in your spot. “What’s your problem, Buck? Why do you care so much?”
Noticing how both you and Sam were staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to comprehend why he was making such a “big deal” about it, Bucky grew embarrassed, not understanding himself why he cared so much. Rather than admitting defeat however, Bucky threw up his hands, scoffing.
“Forget it, Y/n. I don’t care. Do what you want.”
And with that he picked up the pace, walking in the opposite direction of where you and Sam stood confused in your spots.
“I couldn’t have worn something- I don’t know- a bit longer?” You called to the three men ahead of you, following them into the club as you tugged on the hem of your short dress.
“This a club in Madripoor, Y/n.” You heard Zemo say. “If you wore anything else you would be giving us away.”
Groaning you steadied yourself in your heels following behind Zemo and Sam. You slowed your pace to walk besides Bucky who had insisted on being at the back of the line behind you- telling everyone that it would be safer for everyone if he kept their backs covered.
“How are you feeling?” You asked as quietly as you could in the loud club.
“What?” He asked.
“How are you feeling? With the while Winter Soldier thing? If you don’t think you can handle it we can find another way-”
“It’s fine, Y/n.” He said. “Don’t worry about me.”
Instead of letting it go, you gently placed your hand on his exposed, vibranium arm, causing him to stop in his spot, looking at you.
“Bucky, I’m serious.” You said. “You matter too. If you can’t handle it, I’ll find a way to get the information without all of this, okay? I care about you, Buck. Just say the word.”
He almost couldn't focus on the words coming out of your mouth as he tried to keep his eyes focused on your face, rather than trailing down your body, finally noticing just how short the dress that was adorning your body was. As good as you looked in green, he swore he would kill Zemo once he got what he needed from him for dressing you in that.
As gorgeous as you were, however, your words meant everything to him and he hung on to every single one- no matter what you were saying. Hearing the sentiment that you had for him and that you would stick your neck out for him of all people made him speechless.
Just as he was about to open his mouth however, the two of you began to feel the eyes of other partygoers staring the two of you down. As soon as you noticed, you quickly snatched your hand away from his arm and continued your pace in front of him, Bucky quickly following behind.
“Distracted?” Zemo asked as Bucky stopped beside him at the bar.
Rather than answering, Bucky remained silent, falling into character with the thought of your shared interaction still playing over and over in his mind.
Coughing on his hands and knees, trying to process what had just happened, all Bucky could hear was the obnoxious sound of the alarm blaring. When he opened his eyes again he saw the shipping container now consumed with flames and illuminated with a daunting red light. Recalling what had just occurred, he scrambled to his feet, calling out for you.
“Y/n?” He called. “Y/n!”
When he didn't immediately hear your voice, he began to feel his heart race in his chest. What if something happened to you? What if you were too close to the explosion? He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something had happened to you. Just as he was beginning to start hyperventilating, the smoke catching in his chest causing him to double over and heave, he felt your hands wrap around either of his biceps.
“Buck?” You asked. “I’m- I’m so sorry. It happened so fast I couldn’t get a forcefield around everyone. Thank God you’re okay. I was so afraid something happened-”
Cutting you off, Bucky shook your hands off of his arms, instead pulling you into his arms. Although you and the super soldier had spent more quality time than you could count together prior to starting this mission, you had never hugged before, but being in his arms you couldn’t find a single complaint, instead silently wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, running your hands up and down his back.
“Hey it’s okay, Buck. I’m okay.” You said. “Let’s go, okay? Before this thing collapses on us.”
After that the two of you had followed Sam and Sharon into the area of shipping containers, taking out hitman by hitman along the way, when you had finally gotten through all of them, you watched as Zemo pulled up in a car besides the four of you.
“Nice ride.” You said as Bucky slipped into the front seat of the vehicle, yourself sliding into one of the seats in the back row.
“Thank you, Y/n.” Zemo replied, patting Bucky on the chest. “She’s a woman of taste.”
Bucky swore to himself for the second time within the past 12 hours that when given the chance he was going to kill the man beside him- with or without his therapist’s approval.
“You’re not going to move your seat up are you?” Sam asked.
“Nope.” Bucky said.
“That’s fine.” Sam conceded. “I guess I’ll just chill back here with Y/n.”
You laughed as Sam laid his arm against headrest of the backseats of the car.
“I’m fine with that.” You said. “Just me and my favorite person.”
Now Bucky knew that you were kidding, only teasing him to get a rise out of him, but glancing at the backseat and seeing Sam’s arm practically around your shoulders and you calling him your favorite person... just didn’t sit right with Bucky. Just as Zemo’s foot was about to hit the gas, Bucky shifted the car into park, swinging the door open and stepping out of the vehicle.
“You can have the front.” Bucky said, swinging Sam’s door open.
“It’s really okay, Buck-”
“You said you wanted more space so you can have the front.” He said. “Go sit in the front.”
You watched as Sam turned to you, quirking his eyebrows before shrugging and stepping out of the car, switching to the passenger seat. You almost wanted to laugh as you watched Bucky squeeze into the backseat behind the passenger seat, his knees practically up against his chest.
“You good?” You asked.
Despite the groan that had involuntarily escaped his mouth from the discomfort of the front seat digging into his knees, Bucky nodded, stretching his arm out across the backseat, behind your shoulders.
“I’m great.” He assured you. “Now drive, Zemo.”
Although you didn’t catch it, the two men sitting in the front seat- despite their differences- couldn’t help but throw each other a knowing look before the car took off for their next destination.
“Hey!” Torres called. “I see you got your sleeve back!”
You chuckled as you turned to glance at the man stood beside you. Despite it being a joke, not a single hint of a smile cracked the man’s hard exterior. The only reason he didn’t walk out of the room on the spot was because you were standing beside him.
“He’s just in a bad mood today.” You said, reaching your hand out to shake Torres’. “I’m Y/n.”
Taking your hand and shaking it in his, he furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you doing hanging around these guys?” He asked. “...Not that you can’t handle yourself! Sam just won’t even invite me on these things.”
Pulling your hand away from his, you smiled. “Think you can keep a secret?”
As soon as you asked the question you watched as the confusion written all over his face grew even more and you could hear Sam chuckling in the background.
“I’m Sorceress.” You said. “Like the Avenger? I just try to keep my identity pretty secret, you know?”
As soon as you revealed your identity to him, you watched as the man’s face dropped and he turned to look at Sam who was standing behind him.
“Wait- she’s-” Torres stuttered.
Sam nodded, laughing.
“Yep.” Sam said. “She’s the one you’ve been hounding me about setting you up with.”
Although you weren’t paying attention to him, Bucky had already disliked how the conversation was going- finding Torres to be a little too friendly for his liking and not loving that you exposed your identity to him immediately- but when he heard Sam’s confession, he stiffened in his spot, hands balling into fists at his side.
“What? Dude!” Torres exclaimed, glancing back and forth between you and Sam before finally turning back to you, chuckling nervously. “He's just kidding! I would never have a crush on you- wait! That came out wrong! Not that you’re not pretty because you are- I just think you’re cool-”
You continued laughing as the man stumbling over his words in front of you, finding it endearing until you heard the super soldier scoff beside you. You glanced at him only to see him cross his arms while rolling his eyes before making his way out of the room.
Turning back to Torres you gave him a quick smile, pulling a card out of your pocket. “I have to go, but it was nice to meet you Torres. If these boys get in trouble again, make sure to call me first thing, okay?”
He took the card from your hand, nodding. “Uh yeah- yeah! Of course!”
With that you waved to both him and Sam before following the path Bucky had taken out of the room seconds before.
Seeing his figure pacing across the room, you threw your arms up in the air.
“What’s your problem?” You asked.
Stopping in his spot he turned to face you.
“What?” He said. “I don’t have a problem.”
You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms.
“Uh yeah. You do.” You said. “Did I do something to piss you off or something? Are you mad at me for coming on the mission? Because I’m sorry if I wanted to help save the world and make sure you guys didn’t get killed in the process.”
Bucky just stopped and stared at you standing across from him with your arms crossed. He hated to admit it, but you look pissed at him. It hurt knowing that you were upset with him, but it hurt a little more knowing that you felt as though he was mad at you when in actuality that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“Y/n.” He said, stepping closer to you. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Then why did you just storm out of the room?” You asked.
He couldn’t think of a reason besides the truth. He could lie and say that he was mad at you, but that wouldn’t solve the situation for anyone and could possibly strain your relationship farther- and that was the last thing he could possibly want.
The two of you stood there in silence, staring at one another as Bucky attempted to find the words in his head to ease your concern without exposing himself in the process.
But you were never one to back down with him.
“Bucky,” You said. “What’s the problem? What did I do? Why are you so angry-”
“Because I don’t like the way that guy was talking to you!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.
“What?” You asked. “What are you talking about?”
Bucky realized he was in it now. He couldn’t see a way out of it.
For the past week, Bucky couldn’t help but notice that he cared for you a bit more than friends should. Maybe he always did. He thought back to the times he would eagerly await your weekly lunches or the comfort he felt when you took him furniture shopping after seeing his empty apartment for the first time. He thought back to the times you would show up outside of his door when he was upset because you were the only person he trusted there with him in those intimate moments- he knew that you were more than just his colleague, but he realized now that you were more than his friend.
Recently it became more obvious, the burning in his chest he felt when others became a little too comfortable with you- he attempted to mask it with just wanting to protect you, but he knew you could handle yourself. He was protective over you so he wouldn’t lose you.
Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, he cupped your face in his hands. He watched as your eyes widened, but didn’t make any move to stop him. When he caught your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, he pulled you towards him, meeting your lips in the middle.
Maybe it was because he hadn’t kissed anyone in eighty years, but he had never felt the way he had in that moment before. He was so utterly consumed in you- the feeling of your hands reaching for his jacket, tugging him closer as you deepened the kiss, your soft lips against his, your warm breath against his face- he was lost in it.
When you finally pulled away, he didn’t want to let go, but leaned back anyway, staring at his world- you- that he now held in his hands.
“I think I like you more than a friend.” He confessed.
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at his words. You had always cared for Bucky as more than just your former fellow Avenger, but knowing that he felt the same as you was something you could hardly believe.
“I think I do too.” You laughed, then recalled what you had come in there for in the first place. “James, were you... were you jealous?”
Thinking back over the past week the two of you had spent together on the mission, he could almost laugh at the question you had just asked.
“You’re joking, right?” He chuckled. “Yeah. You could say I was a little bit jealous.”
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≛ 𝘧𝘵. 𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰, 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴.
≛ 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵. 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.
≛ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴: 1𝘬
≛ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢 /𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘥𝘰𝘮 (𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪), 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.
𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 18. 𝘥𝘶𝘩.
i’m gonna be honest
that whole “innocent bby deku🥺” shit is played out. this man will demolish your pussy and will not apologize for it.
izuku has the full capacity to be rough in bed, so don’t let his sweet and demure presence fool you
he’s really into overstim surprisingly enough
watching you stir and keen as you cum again for the third time in a row fills him with a sense of pride
knowing nobody else could make you whine like this, make you sputter and stumble over each word, make you cream all over the dick the way he does
he also adores fucking you to the point where you can’t form a comprehensible sentence
he’ll give you deep, slow strokes while holding a bullet vibe directly to your swollen clit, pine eyes sparkling as he watches you plead for him to stop, yet buck your hips into him, chasing another orgasm.
calls you bunny instead of puppy bc ew
“you’re so insatiable, bunny. you like it when i—ah, fuck!—tease your pussy like this? ‘like it when i take what’s mine?”
the pleasure is overwhelming, insurmountable as he brings you to that prepice over and over again until you’re crying.
he’ll then flip you onto your stomach, hands digging into the dimples and slopes of your hips before absolutely impaling you on his length
he’s thick, and comes in at a solid 6-7 inches, so you’re always sore after a round or two
breeding kink. like a major one.
izuku wasn’t always the most confident in his abilities as a boyfriend let alone a lover
so when you started letting him cum inside you it was a huge boost
likes breeding you before work so he can think about the guys that hit on you in the break room smelling the scent of sex all over your body as you walk past them, sticky white fluid creeping down the leg of your pantyhose.
he couldn’t keep other guys from looking at you, but he could damn sure remind you of who you belonged to.
oh, and he’ll slide two fingers in once he’s done and scoop as much of his cum between them as possible before slipping them in your mouth so he can watch you suck it all off
this mf is possessive and nasty.
that’s it. send tweet
nah but in all seriousness, katsuki loves watching your eyes well up with tears as you squeeze and milk his dick for all it’s worth.
he’s a good 7-7.5 inches
not an insane amount of girth but the length more than compensates for it
most definitely uses it as a punishment
and isn’t afraid to do it while you’re in public either
which brings us to his exhibition kink
he’s very prideful when it comes to his reputation as a hero, so you would think that it would keep him from doing anything scandal worthy
it only adds to the searing arousal he gets from watching your tongue fondle his sensitive head, knees bruised from being beneath him for so long
it’s a power trip for him, especially if he’s in costume
depending on your behavior, he’ll be generous and let you swallow while praising your performance
or he’ll wrap a hand around the back of your neck, slide your mouth off of his spit-soaked cock, and stroke himself until his cum splatters all over your eyelashes, fully debauching you in the desolate alleyway
he’s made you walk back home with cum all over your face before, after you’d been particularly bratty over the course of a week
“katsuki! i can’t walk back home like this, what if someone notices?!”
“should’ve thought about that before you decided to visit me while you weren’t wearing any fuckin’ panties. nasty little girl...now hurry up and get a move on, and you better not wipe it off either.”
loves the thrill of humiliating you
unrelated, but he’s an ass man through and through, taking such pleasure in watching it jiggle and ripple under each heavy blow he delivers
takes photos of the marks afterwards and has an album for em.
he also loves fucking you on different surfaces around your penthouse (and his agency)
the man is territorial
so what better way to mark his territory than by making his gorgeous girlfriend squirt and cream all over it?
babe i am so sorry for your neighbors
cause if there’s nothing else shinsou loves it’s to make you scream
he’s got a corruption kink, but not in the way most people do
he doesn’t give a damn if you’re sweet and innocent, or if you’ve got the mouth of a sailor and could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch
what matters to him is making you lose your composure.
one day you’d been anticipating a call back from a job interview you’d gone to a few days prior
and shinsou just so happened to be observing your blissed-out expression as he ground into you from below, your body atop his
when your damned phone started ringing
being the sly little shit that he is, he saw an opportunity
“answer the phone pretty girl...don’t wanna keep them waiting, do you?”
reaching for your buzzing cell, you press the green ‘accept’ button, raising the device to your ear as you jolt forward
“hello, may i speak to y/n?” a chipper voice chimed through the receiver.
“t-this is sh-she. how can i—ah!—help you?” you garble your words, trying to suppress your moans
hitoshi merely takes this as a challenge, opting to drive into you deeper whilst trying to keep the noise down, it’s less fun when it’s obvious what you two are doing
his dick is thick as FUCK. 6 going on 7 inches but honestly you couldn’t give less of a fuck with the way he’s stretching you
surprisingly enough you managed your way through the phone call, telling the white lie of “helping the neighbors move”
but little did you know this was only the beginning of hitoshi’s new favorite pastime
he’s another exhibitionist too
so uh...good luck with that
remote control vibrators on dinner dates, fingers stuffed deep inside your sloppy cunt while he makes small talk with your mom at the dinner table,
even kneeling beneath your desk and sending you to heaven and back while you’re on a video call with your fucking boss.
he’s addicted to watching you fall apart, and is more than willing to apply that pressure.
dabi’s dick would fuck anyone stupid.
let’s make that clear.
it’s canon that he’s got a jacob’s ladder, blah blah blah, but let’s discuss how fucking pretty it is
creeping in at a firm eight inches, and about 4 and a half in girth with a drool-worthy mauve tip, his shaft slightly lighter than the rest of his tanned, unscarred skin
it’s dangerous, barbells running up the underside of his shaft or not
definitely into temperature play
and i’m not talking about that soft shit like warming up his fingers whilst they’re plunging in and out of your sweet center
no no no
that fucker will BRAND you and will not apologize
you’re his pretty little cumdump, and he’ll stake his claim upon your body how ever the hell he pleases
degradation is a given.
“—what a fuckin’ whore. tch, you really think you deserve this dick?”
“how about you get on your knees and beg for it then if you’re so damn needy.”
“quit your god damn whining, or i swear i’ll leave you spread out on this fuckin’ bar for shiggy to find. maybe i’ll even get a promotion for giving him such a slutty little bitch to use.”
“what’s wrong? does it hurt sweetheart? can’t take it after you talked all that shit earlier?” you shake your head no, thighs trembling as you struggle to maintain the position dabi’s folded you into. “...good.” he smirks, eyes gleaming with malice before pounding you to filth, cries spilling from your mouth as you beg for release, knowing he won’t give it to you.
making you cry? a specialty of dabi’s. your tears get him harder than anything; to watch your lips quiver as you sniffle, wiping away tears while he palms himself through his sweats
has shown you off to shigaraki, and will not hesitate to tongue your fluids off his digits while carrying on a full conversation with the other man.
after all, when you know your toy’s better than someone else’s, you tend to brag.
speaking of this mf
he’s the reason gamer boys get the rep of having massive dicks
cause god damn did you not expect this man to be slinging around eight bordering on nine inches of dick. four and a half to five inches of girth. poor you.
he’s also got a penchant for angry sex, so if that’s not enough of an indication that you’re going to have trouble walking afterwards i don’t know what is
but one thing he loves more than taking you apart piece by piece and cumming inside of you with zero remorse?
doing it when he’s in the middle of a game, and he’s online with the party’s voice chat.
“mmm—god, you really will do anything i tell you....swallowing every inch while these guys get to listen, and you’re not even embarrassed, you’re getting off on it!”
“i love little sluts like you, always doing whatever it takes just to have a cock pry them open at all times. that’s what you are, right? my little slut, made for me to do whatever i want to.”
yes, he’s made you whine so sweetly for him, cry as you beg him to touch you, while he plays fucking valorant.
and you can’t count how many times he’s mocked the way you gag and choke on his massive length while he played genshin impact with random guys online.
is a sucker for a good set of nudes, and isn’t afraid to ask for them on a regular basis
plus he just likes taking pictures/videos of you in general, saving them to a private album of his phone for him to use when you’re not there
he may parade you around as though you’re a lifeless fuckdoll, but if nothing else he’s possessive, and would rather relive the pain of losing to all might than let another man see you the way he does
but i’ll be honest, tomura’s not always a teasing, possessive, vindictive asshole with a huge dick.
he’s also a teasing, possessive, vindictive asshole with a thing for being dominated....and a huge dick.
see, it balances out!
it started with a bet that if he lost another round of mortal kombat you got to peg him
it took a lot of convincing, but he agreed to the terms, certain he’d win regardless
and after button smashing like your life depended on it with subzero, you managed to secure the win.
a grin stapled itself to your face after being treated to two hours of tomura’s incessant sobs and wails
“mhm—please...i can’t take it—ah! fuck, fuck, fuck! right there!”
“don’t make me work for it, i promise you’ll never be player two again, just please let me cum—m’ so close..”
game nights are always fun with him, you can count on it.
my god my god
i’m gonna say it right now: keigo doesn’t eat pussy for you.
he does it for him.
and that makes all the difference in the fucking world when he’s pulling you to sit on his face
scruff scratching at your inner thighs deliciously as he makes you squirt alllll over aforementioned facial hair, rolling your hypersensitive clit between soft lips and a fluid tongue
he could stay between your thighs for hours and hours on end
will propose to devour you in the most inappropriate of places
and honestly? isn’t the least bit ashamed about it. elevators, in front of large office windows just a few stories above the street where you’re just barely visible to the people below,
on endeavor’s decorative towels after he spread them out on the floor so he could fuck you senseless on top of them, etc.
the flame hero had pissed him off earlier, and he needed to exert some petty rage. this was most sensible use of his energy.
also in case it wasn’t obvious: breeding kink. duh.
no thoughts head empty just hawks begging to breed you during his rut
“come on pretty girl, let me make you a momma....can’t wait to stuff you full of my chicks....”
he blushes so deeply when he’s close to cumming
and boy does he fucking whine
dick is just as pretty as he is, he’s a good 6 inches with a three inch girth; tip flushed and pink
definitely cherishes intimacy during sex
and will certainly go out of his way to make sure you feel comfortable/desired
he could have all the money/fame in the world
and it still wouldn’t compare to the feeling of your thighs suffocating him while he slurps at your cunt like it’s his last meal.
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hogwarts express | DRACO MALFOY (smut)
Draco Malfoy x Reader (past harry x reader)
SUMMARY: Draco fucks Y/N to prove a point to Harry who he knows is hiding in the storage compartment above, watching the whole thing.
REQUESTED: first of all, i absolutely love your writing!!! ok so you know how on the train in sixth year harry was spying on draco in the compartment? what if draco and y/n have sex in front of him while he’s still under the cloak and draco is like “put on a show.” 👀 i’ve been thinking about this nonstop for days @sapphicnoodle69
WARNINGS: dirty talk, public sex, choking, oral (both receiving), slut shaming, probably more idk
“Hogwarts,” Draco scoffs, a sneering look on his face as he fiddles absentmindedly with his fingers on the table in front of you, “what a pathetic excuse for a school. I think I’d pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I thought I had to continue for another two years.”
You frown from where you’re leaning your head on his shoulder, your senses consumed by Draco. All you can smell is his expensive cologne and the peppermint of his shampoo, the smooth material of his suit’s blazer brushing your cheek as you stare across at Pansy and Blaise. They look equally as confused as you do. Draco hadn’t been the same since his father had been sent to Azkaban, all thanks to Harry Potter, Draco had said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pansy questions.
“Let’s just say, I don’t think you’ll see me wasting my time with Charms class next year,” Draco mutters bitterly.
Blaise snickers lightly and Draco’s eyes snap to him in an instant-- venomous and daring. It’s the kind of cold look that anybody would dread getting from a Malfoy.
“Amused, Blaise?” Draco sneers, “We’ll see just who’s laughing in the end.”
You miss the tiny metallic clanging noise from above your heads, and so do Blaise and Pansy from where they’d sending you questioning looks, as if you should know why your boyfriend’s suddenly acting like the four of you haven’t spent the past six years exchanging all your secrets and hanging out at any free moment you may have.
Draco knows who’s there. Your ex-boyfriend. His enemy. Harry Potter. He pisses Draco off even more with the way he always stares at you. It gives Draco an idea.
Draco’s gaze flickers down from the storage racks above your heads and back down at you when you finally lift your head from his shoulder. You reach for his hands that are on the table and pull them underneath innocently. You give his hand a squeeze and keep your fingers intertwined on his lap, watching as his shoulders relaxed slightly beside you.
The rest of the train journey is less tense. Draco doesn’t suggest anything else as solemnly as he had been, and you all talk about your summers. Well, you, Blaise, and Pansy do-- everybody knows Draco definitely did not spend his summer eating the finest food in France like he usually did.
As you’re listening to Blaise talk about his mother’s latest fiancé, you feel Draco’s hand snake from your hand and drift to your leg. It’s bare beneath your school skirt, the British September weather not yet cold enough for a pair of tights. You know he’s glad that you decided to get changed early. You shiver at his icy fingertips on your thigh, pursing your lips together when he gives it a rather rough squeeze.
He glides his hand up and down, leaving goosebumps in his wake as he tries to remain as casual as possible, keeping a hard look on his face whilst he stares at Blaise. You’re also trying to appear neutral, cursing your boyfriend for having such a thing for getting off in public. One day you were going to get caught, and that was the day you would also be disowned by your family.
He keeps you in suspense for the last hour of the train journey. At that point, the dark green panties that you’re wearing are absolutely soaked, sticking to your pussy and even dampening the top of your thighs. His hand hadn’t left your leg once, trailing close to where you desired him the most, where your clit throbbed and pulsated, and then back down closer to your knee to give you a breather.
Draco Malfoy was a fucking tease and he would be the death of you-- that was for sure.
Finally, when the train pulled up at the station, everybody starting to climb off of the compartment, but Draco remained sat where he was, also blocking you in from your window seat. As Blaise and Pansy grab their bags and start to head off, they look back at you both in confusion, wondering why you’re not leaving.
“You two go on,” Draco mutters, running his hand across his jaw. “Y/N and I have something we need to discuss.”
Pansy gives you a sly smirk and a wink before she grabs Blaise’s arm and practically drags him out of the compartment. Your heart is pounding as you watch Draco slide out of his seat once your friends have left the two of you by yourselves, watching as he moves closer to the carriage door, sliding it shut. He pulls the blinds down next.
“This might be the last time we get the chance to do this,” Draco smirks as he glances back at you. “Stand.”
You do as he says, watching as he grabs his wand out of his pocket and swishes it, all of the other blinds coming down to conceal you from the outside. Your clit is pulsating so hard and you nearly groan out loud as he starts to march closer to you, rubbing your thighs together for some relief.
Draco’s hand snaps out to grab your neck, fingers gliding down your soft skin before he digs his fingers in slightly, shallowing your breathing. You whimper as his other thumb drags itself down your lip.
“I know you’ve been desperate for this,” Draco mutters, releasing your neck and undoing his tie, flinging it down onto the table beside you both. “And you’ve been a good girl for me. Parkinson and Zabini didn’t suspect a thing, did they?”
“No,” you breathe in agreement, “they didn’t.”
“I think my good little slut deserves a reward for being so patient,” Draco mutters, tilting your head with his hand on your jaw, leaning down to press wet kisses to your neck, sucking hard below your ear and leaving a hickey behind as you grip his arms, eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“Draco...” You pull away from him slightly, finding his silver eyes darker than usual as he stares down at you. “Right here? What if someone comes looking-”
“Colloportus,” he mutters, locking the doors with his wand. “There. We’ll hear if someone tries coming in.”
“And if somebody hears us?”
That’s enough for you. Especially when Draco’s looking as handsome as he does and when he has that grip on your waist. You know you’re in for a good quickie when he grabs you and whirls you around, forcing you down so that you’re bent over the table that they had just been sat at.
His hand drifts between your legs where your school skirt has ridden up, exposing your soaked panties. He tuts as he kicks your legs apart with his foot, gliding his lanky fingers up your leg and towards your ass where he lands a harsh smack. You whimper, your hand clasping over your mouth.
Draco reaches down and dives his hand between your legs, cupping your sex. He pushes your panties to the side and immediately comes into contact with your slick arousal. It coats his fingers and makes him smirk as he glides it between your folds and towards your clit where he rubs circles. When he notices how you’re muffling your moans with your hand, he lands a sharp slap to your clit that makes you jerk unexpectedly against him.
“If I see you trying to keep quiet one more time then I won’t touch you,” Draco swore, returning to rubbing your clit when you peeled your hand away from your lips. “Good girl. I want to hear those pretty sounds you make.”
You moan at a mixture of his words and the sensation rippling through your body, your arms stretching out in front of you and trying to grab hold of anything, but there was nothing for you to hold so you simply clawed at the table as Draco drops down onto his knees.
He whirls you around so that you’re facing him, his face level with your pussy as he yanks your skirt up. He glides your panties down your legs and then thrusts one finger inside your hole, making your breath hitch. You throw your head back, you hands clinging to his bleach blond hair. As another finger slides in, both pumping in and out at a dangerously slow pace, Draco leans his head dow and starts to lick at your clit, looking up at you whilst he did it.
You moan, bucking your hips. “Draco, please. Please, please. Fuck. Fuck!”
That’s right, Potter. He thinks. This is the closest you’ll ever get to seeing her like this. And it’s all because of me.
Draco hums against you and wraps his mouth around your entire clit, sucking hard and licking at the same time. It throbs and feels like it’s going to explode, porn-worthy whimpers leaving you as you throw your legs up onto his shoulders, sitting further along the table as he laps up your juices eagerly.
A third finger slides in and you groan at the stretching sensation as he fucks his fingers into you harder. Your hands move up to palm at your breasts, until Draco grabs your wrist. You huff at the loss of contact. He stands, licking his lip as he pulls his fingers out of you and holds them towards your lips.
“Suck,” Draco demands and knowing Potter is watching, envying him and wishing that he was the one that had you at his will, makes him smirk harder.
You respond eagerly, leaning forwards and taking his fingers into your mouth. You look up at him, eyes all wide and innocent that have Draco even harder in his trousers. He swears to Merlin that you’ll be the death of him as your tongue swirls around his digits, licking yourself off of him and cleaning him up.
“Good fucking slut,” he grows. “Now on your knees. Where you belong.”
You respond quickly, dropping down like he had commanded you to. Without hesitation, you reach for the button and zipper of his trousers, undoing them both. You reach into his underwear and pull his cock out, wetting your lips at the sight. He’s as hard as ever, precum oozing out of the top as he grabs the base of it, smacking your lips with it.
You half open your mouth, making a moaning sound as he smears it across your lips, leaving his precum behind. Your tongue darts out and you lick it up as he smacks your cheek with it. Your mouth opens wider, sticking your tongue out. Draco thrusts his hips slowly closer, his cock resting in your mouth as you take over, grabbing his shaft and jerking off anything that you couldn’t fit into your mouth.
You suck in your cheeks as you bob on his dick, pulling off all of the way to then lick at his tip. Draco’s hand grips your hair like it’s a lifeline, small curses leaving his lips as you take him all the way back in. His tip hits the back of your throat, making your eyes water, but you keep him there for a few second, hearing his breathing grow short at the feeling until you pull him off of you, his cock now covered in your saliva.
“Fuck, you’re so good,” Draco mutters, his fingers going beneath your chin and moving with you as you stand up. “And you’re all mine. Nobody else can have you.”
“Mhm,” you moan in agreement as he lays you across the table that you had been at before. “Don’t want anyone else.”
“Not even Potter?” He refers to the boy you’d dated briefly back in fourth year-- the same one that hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you since, even when you were wrapped under Draco’s arm two years later.
“No, you,” you agree, “Just you. Only you, Draco.”
Draco places runs his tip up and down your folds before he presses it at your entrance, slowly gliding in. You both groan at the sensation. You’d throw your head back if you weren’t already being fucked on the hard surface of the table. Your hands grip the sides beside you, but it doesn’t stop your body jerking as Draco fucks into you hard.
He’s being rough, clearly trying to prove a point as he watches your body wither beneath him from where he stands at the end of the table. He pushes your skirt back up when it falls down a little, and this time his thumb moves to your clit. Draco smirks when your back arches and you cry out.
“Draco!” You nearly sob as he slams into you, your soaking heat making sounds that echo across the compartment. “Draco, Draco. Fuck me just like that.”
Draco groans at your words, rubbing your clit harder and slamming in and out of you like it’s his mission. Your walls clench around his cock and have him tilting his head back, a breathy moan leaving his lips as he doesn’t stop his assault on your nub. Everything feels so good-- you can already feel your orgasm coming, thanks to the foreplay earlier as well.
“You’re so good for me,” Draco growls, glancing down and spitting on your pussy, even though you were already soaked. He rubs it in as he watches his cock drive in and out of your shaking form. “Such a good, pretty, little slut. But just for me.”
“Just--” You squeeze your eyes shut when Draco hits a certain spot inside you, making you scream out. “Just for you, Draco.”
“Do you hear that Potter?” Draco booms with a laugh, but you don’t process what he’s said at first. “Do you see her? The way she comes undone for me. How she would let me do anything for her?”
You realise what he’s saying after a few seconds and several more powerful thrusts. Your eyes widen, realising that Harry must be snooping around in the compartment-- that was why Draco had been so tense after the small blackout.
Draco leans down and hisses against your ear, “Let’s put on a little show for him, shall we, princess?”
You cum. You scream out and throw your head back, the thought of Harry watching Draco fuck the life out of you guiltily filling you with adrenaline and power and even arousal. You claw at Draco’s blazer-covered back as you call out his name, walls clenching around his cock over and over.
Finally, seconds later, you feel his hips stutter and one last powerful thrust before his cum begins to fill you, hot and fast. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, breathy whimpers leaving your lips as he pulls out of you and yanks your skirt back down whilst you sit up.
“Petrificus Totalus!” He grabs his wand and shoots the spell at the storage shelves above you.
You gasp when you hear a thump. You bend down on your knees and pull up the invisibility cloak that Harry had, revealing the boy himself-- paralysed, of course. Draco grabs you and pulls you back, a smirk on his face.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop, Potter?” Draco spits, grabbing his bag with the hand that isn’t holding you wrist. “Oh, that’s right, she was dead before you could wipe the drool off your chin.”
Harry’s seemingly-lifeless eyes just stare back up at the two of you and you gasp when Draco drives his foot down onto Harry’s face, an audible cracking noise filling the compartment. Blood immediately dribbles down his face as Draco releases you to grab the cloak back off the ground.
“That’s for my father. And stop fucking staring at my girlfriend. I think it might be obvious to you who she prefers now.” He throws the cloak back over Harry, making him invisible again. “Enjoy your ride back to London.”
Draco grabs your hand again and his briefcase and leads you away again, fully satisfied that Potter had learnt his lesson.
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Twin Bed (Tsukishima Kei x Reader)
are u taking requests rn? 🥺 ive read ur tsukki fics and i know to myself ur the only one who can write this request amazingly: tsukki sneaking in to his s/o’s room at night bc he misses her and he saw how cute she is in her pajamas but couldnt help getting turned on as well bc she is wearing shorts and an oversized shirt it also didnt help that her bed is for one person only ;) UR AN AMAZING AUTHOR AND NEVER STOP WRITING TSUKKI OR HAIKYUU SCENARIOS COS THE PPL NEED U
Word Count: 2,475
Warnings: SMUT, my shit writing, bad language
Yoooo this is was legit so fun to write lmao. I hope I did your request justice anon and I appreciate your kind words!!! I know I have other requests sitting in my inbox and I will try and to get to them soon. I might be a bit inactive the next couple of weeks, I will be going vacation (I definitely fucking need it lol) this week and then I start classes again. RIP. I hope you guys enjoy this one and let me know what you think!:) I literally am at a lost for words with how amazing you guys are and how unproblematic you guys have been considering the bullshit that’s been going around in the community. I just want to reiterate that this is a safe and fun place for everyone, it is never my intention to make anyone uncomfortable and if I do please let me know so that I can apologize correctly for it! But to make things clear I will not tolerate any fuckery on this blog, I don’t have the energy nor the patience to deal with shit like that. We are all capable of being decent human beings to each other. No drama, no bullshit, just a fun and safe place for everyone that wants to be part of it. ANYWAY, enough of my ranting, please enjoy this filth and my shit writing lmao 😘😘😘💕💕💕💕
You frowned slightly as you looked at your phone, your eyes squinting against the harshness of the light.
Tsukishima had texted you, multiple times - at two in the morning - in fact. While you dearly adored your boyfriend of only five months, you didn’t exactly adore the fact that he woke you up at this time.
Especially considering you had to be up in about five hours to get ready for an exam.
You sighed through your nose as you tugged your blankets from your body and made your way to your door.
“Kei… it’s two in the morning…” You yawned, looking up at your tall boyfriend with sleepy eyes. “The dorm manager is going to get mad at me if she catches you here.”
“Well let’s not get caught then.” he drawled out, gold eyes flickering over your body. A blonde eyebrow arched up; “is that my shirt?”
You blinked at him for a moment, not fully registering what he had just asked before a soft blush began to coat your cheeks.
You were definitely wearing one of his shirts, a green Sendai Frogs shirt that was way too big for your body, given his tall stature. He had left the shirt at your dorm two weeks ago, and naturally you wore it to bed almost every night.
“No.” You said in a small voice, carefully playing with your fingers as you looked up at him through your lashes.
A soft blush covered Tsukishima’s cheeks before he scoffed, his slender fingers reaching up to push his glasses back up his nose. “You’re a terrible liar. Looks good on you though.” he said, brushing past you to get into your room.
You turned to see him plop himself onto your bed, and you couldn’t help but stare. It was a strange sight to see to say the least. His 6’4 frame was just a tad out of place in your room, especially sitting on your incredibly small bed. But more so he was out of place because, well, your boyfriend was beautiful. It was like a Greek god decided to pay you a secret visit before the sun came up, ready to disappear at any moment.
Tsukishima’s hair was tousled perfectly, the tight black shirt he wore complimented him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and thick biceps. You felt your mouth go dry as you realized that he was wearing grey sweatpants, clinging low on his hips.
How could someone look so good at two in the morning?
“Are you just going to stare at me the entire time?” He called out, his back leaning against the wall your bed was pushed up against, his phone in hand.
“You’re the one that wanted to come over.” you frowned, locking your door before making your way towards the bed. “You’re taking up all the space.” You whined.
He rolled his eyes before his long legs parted, creating a space on the bed. “Come here.”
You felt your face burn even more, a strange shyness overtaking you at the intimate position he wanted you in.
It wasn’t like you had never been close to Tsukishima before, you guys had been intimate, many times... but then why were you so nervous all of a sudden?
“What are you waiting for?” he asked, a blonde eyebrow quirked up.
“Shut up.” you grumbled, carefully climbing over one of his long legs. You settled yourself against him, your upper body fitting easily between his legs, your back resting against his stomach and your head gently pressing into his strong chest.
Resting against Tsukishima was far better than resting in your tiny bed.
One of his arms carefully wrapped around your waist, his large hand gently pressing against your stomach, the other hand held his phone in front of both of you, a volleyball game overtaking the screen.
It was silent for a moment, both of you absorbed in the video. It had only been fifteen minutes into the game when Tsukishima began looking over your body. His gold eyes taking in your bare legs before flickering up. He zeroed in on the exposed skin of your hip, the shirt you wore had been pulled up slightly.
He swallowed thickly, arousal beginning to spike in his blood. Christ, it wasn’t like you were naked right now; it wasn’t like you were wearing anything incredibly enticing, but… fuck. Tsukishima began wracking his brain for when the last time it was that he had seen you. That’s right, it had been a while, a little over two weeks in fact.
His sudden desire was because he had just missed you right? He couldn’t possibly be turned on from the simple fact that you were in the shortest shorts known to man, or the fact that you were in his shirt and you weren’t…. Christ, you weren’t wearing a fucking bra.
He could see your hardened nipples through the shirt despite how baggy it was on your small body.
“Can you hold the phone, my arm is getting tired.” he said quietly, hoping that you hadn’t felt his hardening member against your back just yet.
“Really Kei?” you rolled your eyes but took his phone nonetheless, your eyes completely glued to the screen. The game was just beginning to get interesting.
It was silent again.
But this time, Tsukishima trailed his hand down to your exposed skin, carefully sliding his fingers under your shirt, gently tracing against your soft skin.
You sighed softly at his touch, your body wiggling slightly against him to get more comfortable. Tsukishima took that as a good sign, his hands traveling further up, the rough pads of his fingers felt incredible against your skin; goosebumps erupting over your body.
You shivered slightly, desire spiking in the pit of your stomach as his long fingers began moving further up, until they rested just below your breasts. Your breath hitched, your heart thumping loudly in your ears now.
His fingers carefully dragged against the soft underside of your breasts. You felt Tsukishima shift, his upper body sitting up slightly, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your outer ear, hot breath rustled your hair.
“Who’s winning?” he murmured, lips grazing against your ear before carefully brushing down towards your neck.
A soft whimper tore through your lips. “It’s uhmm… uh - o-oh Kei.” your eyes fluttered shut as his tongue darted across your skin, tasting you before biting down softly. You could feel your cunt clenching at his actions, your bundle of nerves suddenly throbbing to be touched.
“What was that?” he teased softly, the hand that was gently caressing the underside of your breasts suddenly moved up, carefully cupping your entire breast, long fingers gently tugging at your hardened nipple.
You moaned loudly before immediately dropping his phone, both hands clasping your mouth shut tightly.
“Oh, that’s right, if your dorm manager caught me here, she would be furious right? I don’t want you getting in trouble, so you best be quiet hmm?” he murmured softly against your skin before pinching your nipple hard between two fingers.
Your breath hitched, your eyes squeezing shut as pleasure rippled through your body.
“But you make the cutest noises when you're turned on.” he said, his voice incredibly quiet and calm, despite the growing hardness that was pressing into your back now. “You’re in quite the dilemma, aren’t you?”
His other hand suddenly trailed down, his fingers curling against your through your shorts.
“Fuck… you’re soaked.” he groaned quietly, feeling your arousal leaking through your panties and staining your shorts.
He suddenly leaned back once again, your head once again resting against his strong chest. But despite his composure, his heart was racing just as much as yours.
He suddenly bucked his hips up, his cock rubbing against your back. A soft sigh escaped his lips, the hand that was groping your breast pulled out of your shirt and tangled into your hair, gently tugging and forcing you to arch your neck, staring up at the blonde male now.
His gold eyes held nothing but lust now as he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes.
You had never seen a more gorgeous man in your entire life.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice deep with arousal. But before you could say anything, the hand that was grasping you through your clothes suddenly tugged your shorts and panties to the side, long fingers brushing softly against your weeping slit.
Tsukishima exhaled loudly, his cock jumping against your back as he felt just how wet you were.
“Fuck…” he whispered quietly, and carefully slid his finger to the top of your cunt, his finger gently pressing down against your clit.
A jolt of pleasure erupted through your body, your mouth falling open in a silent plea as your eyes fluttered shut.
He began rubbing delicate circles against you, a soft pleasure beginning to build up in your lower stomach, your hips rocking up carefully with his movements.
“K-Kei…” you trembled, your hand reaching down and grasping at his forearm helplessly.
“Are you close?” he asked, his finger pressing down just a little bit harder, but that was all that you needed to get your legs shaking.
The way he touched you… the way that he took care of you… it was no wonder you were completely head over heels for him.
He was just too good.
You nodded helplessly against his chest, and then suddenly he pulled his hand away from your dripping cunt, a soft cry of distress tearing through your lips. Why did he… but you were so close…
“Can you move away for a second?” he asked quietly, gently pushing you forward. You shakily scooted away from him and heard the rustling of sheets and clothes. You twisted your head to look back and - your mouth went dry.
Tsukishima was still resting against the wall, his lower body easily sprawled out against your bed as you still sat between his long legs, but this time… this time… he laid with one hand behind his head, the other was easily grasping his member, lazily sliding up and down his shaft. His grey sweatpants were bunched up around the tops of his thighs, his black shirt pulled up slightly, exposing his lower stomach and the perfect lines of his Adonis belt.
“Come here.” he demanded, you turned to crawl over to him, fully intending on taking him into your mouth- his hand flew up, halting your movements. “No. I want to be inside you.”
Your lips parted slightly as you nodded in a daze, your cunt squeezing around nothing at his words. But before you could sink down on top of his cock, he stopped you once more.
“Turn around.” he commanded. Your lips trembled softly, your hands gripping his upper thighs as you situated yourself on top of him, you could feel his fingers tugging your shorts and underwear to the side again, and then something blunt and thick began rubbing up and down your soaked entrance.
“Don’t tease me Kei, please.” you whimpered out, but before you could plead further, he grabbed your hips, forcing you to sink all the way down onto his member in one movement.
You gritted your teeth tightly, biting back the loud shout that wanted to escape your throat at the sudden intrusion, at the force of him already hitting the most devastating depths within you.
Fuck you had never been quite this full, never had someone quite this deep until you met Tsukishima.
“Shit.” he cursed, growling slightly, his grip on your hips tightening as his eyes fluttered shut as your tight heat engulfed him completely.
He could never get used to this.
After a moment of adjusting to the new intrusion you began rocking your hips, carefully sliding back and forth, your lips forming into a silent o as pleasure jolted through your body at each drag of his cock against your walls.
A soft whimper tore through your lips as he began grabbing handfuls of your ass, his fingers gripping tightly at the soft flesh, kneading and pulling your cheeks apart. Before his hand settled on pulling your shorts and underwear further away, his eyes taking in the obscene way your cunt swallowed his cock.
The quiet room was filled with the sound of rustling sheets, the wet noises of your arousal leaking through your stuffed cunt as Tsukishima slid in and out of you, the soft and breathless moans that escaped your lips, and the soft grunts of Tsukishima as he fought back his release. He couldn’t cum yet, not until you did.
But he could tell that you were close by the desperate way you rocked your hips, faster, sloppier, chasing for a release.
“Cum for me.” he demanded, his large hand cracking down against your ass. Your hand came up, stifling the loud gasp that wanted to escape your lips, your cunt clenching tightly around him. You could feel it then, the pleasure mixed with the sharp pain, the tightness in your lower stomach finally releasing.
“Fuck that’s it.” He murmured, watching as you trembled above him, his hands coming down to grip at your waist, forcing you to move faster against him as he began chasing his own release.
Tsukishima gritted his teeth tightly before carefully shoving you off of his member, a soft cry escaping your lips as you collapsed on top of his legs. He gripped his member tightly, shooting thick ropes of his warmth all over your raised bottom, staining your shorts completely.
“Shit hold on.” he panted slightly, carefully moving himself from under you. He tucked his softening member back into his sweatpants before moving towards your closet, grabbing a towel and making his way back to you. His gentle hands easily cleaning you up before tugging your shorts and panties off, replacing them with fresh ones.
You looked up at him sleepily as he began situating you both on your small body, half of your body resting on top of his as he drew the blankets over your guys’ form.
“You suck Kei. If I fail this exam because I’m too tired to focus, you have to buy me ramen.” you mumbled against his chest, your eyes drooping as sleep began to tug at your mind.
“If you fail this exam just because you’re tired then that just proves you didn’t actually study for it. You should’ve been able to retain that information regardless.” he said, fingers gently running through your hair.
“You suck.” you sighed again, softly nuzzling your face into his chest.
A smile tugged at his lips, but he didn’t say anything else.
Not that you would have listened anyway, considering that you were knocked out now.
Tsukishima’s body was definitely more comfortable than your twin bed.
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Take Me Seaside (For My Health)
B u c k y B a r n e s x R e a d e r
Summary: Bucky Barnes is many things to you: friend, coworker, pain in your ass. When you get sick on a mission, he takes on another role—overbearing caretaker. A friends-to-lovers, TFATWS!Bucky sick fic.
Author’s Note: My love, @divine-mistake, requested a Bucky sick fic a little while ago <3 This is a short and sweet lil thing (well, short for me lmao), and I hope you enjoy it!
Warning(s): cursing (as always), sickness/descriptions of flu-like sickness, mutual pining, idiots in love, poorly edited (again, as always)
Word Count: 4.7k
Masterlist // AO3
“You look like shit.”
You lift your head up weakly from the pillow to find him leaning up against the bedpost. “I told Sam I didn’t want to be bothered.”
“You saying I’m a bother?”
“Yes,” you sigh. “Now give me my room key back—you’ve revoked your privileges.”
He chooses to ignore that, plopping down on the bed to sit by your feet. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know, Bucky.”
His brow is furrowed. “Sam said you practically puked on the jet.”
“I did puke on the jet.” Your lip curls at the memory. “All over Torres’ jacket.”
“Now I owe him fifty bucks to replace it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he waves you off with a gesture of his hand as if it were his jacket you’d ruined. You have a sneaking suspicion his nonchalance is rooted in the fact that he’d already decided to repay Torres for you. “Thought you didn’t get motion sick?”
“I don’t.” Your heart stutters upon the realization that Bucky’s paid enough attention to you to know that. “I think I have the stomach flu or something.”
“Probably food poisoning from all that garbage you eat.”
You groan, hand pressed against the burning skin of your forehead. “Shut up. You’re making it worse.”
“Sorry,” his voice softens a bit. “You need anything?”
“Sam already called the front desk, had them bring up some medicine for me,” you nod over to the bottle of bright, bubblegum pink liquid on the dresser. “You should go—I don’t want to get you sick.”
“I don’t get sick anymore. Serum took care of that.”
“Right,” you swallow thickly, pushing yourself up on your elbows. “Good ol’ supersoldier serum.”
Bucky eyes flit from the sweat collecting around your hairline to the tattered t-shirt that hangs loosely around your shoulders. “Has it perks,” he shrugs.
Your stomach churns suddenly, the sick rising in the back of your throat as a thick layer of sweat cements your shirt to your back. He averts his eyes as you lean over the side of the bed, emptying the remaining contents of your stomach into the tiny waste bin.
“They’re gonna charge you a pretty cleaning fee for that,” he quips, face neutral as you gag against the taste of stomach acid in your mouth.
Ordinarily, you’d be mortified to get sick in front of anyone else like this, but there’s no time for embarrassment. Thick saliva coats the inside of your cheeks, a forewarning, and you push yourself out of the bed and in the direction of the bathroom without a word.
There’s nothing left to vomit up but bile, its pea-green color splashing against the white porcelain of the toilet bowl in nauseating contrast that it makes you gag again. Your chest heaves violently, stomach lurching forward painfully, but nothing comes up this time.
When you reach up to flush the toilet, you notice your hand is shaking. Bucky doesn’t miss the tremor either, appearing at the bathroom door with a frown.
“When I asked if you needed anything,” he begins, pulling you up on shaky legs, “You could’ve mentioned pants.”
Glancing down, you realize the worn hem of your t-shirt has hiked up to reveal the pink cotton material of your underwear.
“Don’t look if you’re gonna make it a thing,” you warn him, cupping your hand under the faucet to collect water to swish around in your mouth.
“I’m not gonna make it a thing.” In the mirror, you see his gaze still glued to your ass. “It’s Tuesday, by the way.”
Spitting the water into the sink basin, you narrow your eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?
“You’re wearing your Thursday panties,” he nods to the print across the butt of the underwear. “And it’s Tuesday.”
“I said not to look, asshole.”
“I’m sorry,” he half-apologizes, following you back into the hotel room. When you flop down weakly onto the bed, drawing the covers around your neck, he hovers at the bedside. “It’s gonna be hard to erase the mental image, but I’ll do my best to forget I ever saw your Thursday panties, alright?”
“I’m going to kill Sam,” you groan into your pillow.
“Not his fault you yakked on the jet.”
“No, but it is his fault you’re up here staring at my ass while I’m puking my guts up.”
He rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t staring at your ass—I was reading the—,”
“Bucky,” you say his name like a threat—as much of one as you can manage right now. “Get out.”
He ignores you, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. “No wonder you’re acting all delirious—you’re burnin’ up.”
“I’m not delirious.” Swatting his hand away from your forehead, you check the temperature for yourself. He’s right—you are feverish. “I’m annoyed.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you off, moving over to the dresser to inspect the medicine Sam had delivered. “You haven’t taken any of this yet?”
“Didn’t think I could keep it down.”
“Here,” he peels the packaging off, unscrewing the measuring cup cap to pour out a portion of disgustingly thick, pastel pink liquid into it. “You gotta try to take something.”
He places the little cup in your hand, the sickeningly sweet smell of it wafting up to your nose where it wrinkles in disgust. After a moment of hesitancy, you tilt your head back, throwing the medicine down your still-burning throat with a gag.
Bucky takes the empty cap from you, shaking his head. “I’ve seen you throw back shots of much nastier stuff.”
“Nothing’s nastier than Pepto-Bismol.”
“Yeah?” He arches an eyebrow at you from where he’s hovered over another medicine bottle, reading the dosage instructions on the back. “I think Torres’ jacket would have to disagree.”
“Fuck—I feel awful about that.”
“I told you not to worry about it.” He’s pouring little red pills into his vibranium hand. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Bucky, it’s fifty dollars—,”
“I owe you,” he shrugs, coming to sit on the bed beside you. He presses two pills into your palm, metal fingers like a soothing ice pack when they brush against your blistering skin.
“You did drink all of my beer,” you admit, dropping the tablets onto your tongue and swallowing them down harshly. “But not fifty dollars worth.”
“Will you just let me take care of it?” There’s an edge to his voice, blue eyes burning into yours. If you weren’t hot with fever already, you’d be set ablaze by his gaze.
“Alright,” you nod slowly. “Fine—if you wanna cough up fifty bucks, I won’t complain.”
“Oh, there’s a first,” he cuts his eyes at you teasingly.
“Says you,” you shove at his arm weakly. “You complain more than anybody I’ve ever met.”
“Then you haven’t met yourself, sweetheart.” He reaches around you, readjusting your pillows, oblivious to the way his pet name for you has you biting down on your bottom lip. “You should lay down, watch some TV or something. Rest.”
He pushes himself off the bed. “You gonna leave me alone now?”
“You wish,” he laughs, shrugging on the jacket he’d deposited into an armchair in the corner of the room. “Gonna head out for a bit, see if I can find something you can actually keep down.”
The idea of food makes you feel nauseated all over again. “I’m not hungry.”
“Still gotta get some food—or hell, at least some Gatorade—in you.”
“If you’re getting Gatorade, don’t bring me that yellow flavor—,”
“I know, I know,” he groans. “You ever gonna forgive me for that, by the way? I mean, how the hell was I supposed to know what flavor you liked?”
“I specifically told you to get red, and you came back with a six-pack of the yellow.”
“So the answer’s no, then? Gonna hold that grudge forever?” When you flop back into the pillows, narrowing your eyes at him, he quips, “Ya know, they say holding onto all that anger ain’t healthy. Might wanna work on that.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing a pillow from the bed at him. “Go before I kill you.”
He chuckles, opening the door to step out into the hallway. “I’d like to see you try.”
The last thing you see before the door shuts behind him, finally leaving you alone, is his smile. It’s toothy and bright and white, and the absence of it—of Bucky—sends a sudden draft through the room.
Snuggling further into the blankets, chasing warmth, you shut your eyes and dream of him.
The sound of running water wakes you. Groaning at the soreness in your neck as you roll over to face the source of the noise, you see a flood of yellow light coming in from a crack in the bathroom door.
Groggily, you call out: “Bucky?”
The water stops, and you hear him curse under his breath before he appears from behind the door. “Hey. Was hoping you’d stay sleepin’ for a while.”
He’s got a little black receptacle in his hands, and you realize, with some delayed horror, that it’s the trash bin you’d puked in earlier. “Oh, god—put that down.”
“Relax. I’ve seen worse.”
“Bucky, seriously, it’s disgusting. You don’t need to—,”
“It is disgusting. That’s why I’m cleaning it. Trying to save the housekeeper from coming in and having to deal with it tomorrow.”
“I’ll clean it,” you start to unravel yourself from the covers when he shoots you a glare.
“Jesus, will you lay down?” His tone is like a restraint, keeping you pinned under the duvet. “Let somebody else take care of you for once.”
A heat radiates across your cheekbones, and you’re not so sure it’s from fever.
“Okay,” you drawl, relenting.
You watch as he sprays the inside of the plastic bin with Clorox before rinsing it in the sink, all the while maintaining a neutral face. When he’s finished, he washes his hands, wiping them on the decorative towel before coming over to check your temperature against the back of his hand again.
“Fever’s already gone down a bit,” he notes, sounding pleased. “Medicine must’ve helped. How you feelin’?”
“A little better, I guess.” At least you weren’t throwing up anymore.
“Not really.” Behind him, on the dresser, are white plastic bags filled with whatever he had been able to find at the bodega around the corner. “But you’re going to try and feed me anyway, aren’t you?”
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
He parses through the bags, pulling out various bottles and packages. “Got you some crackers,” he holds them up for you to see. “And some chicken noodle soup, if you think you can stomach it.”
“I’ll try it. No guarantees, though.”
He grunts. “Got you some Gatorade, too—and don’t even ask. Yes, it’s fuckin’ red.”
“Ah, so Bucky Barnes is capable of doing what he’s asked.”
“More like I didn’t feel like listening to you complainin’ all night,” he smirks, handing you the bottle.
“You’re planning on staying all night?” Your mouth forms a thin line as you struggle to twist the top off, a tired grunt falling from your lips.
He grabs the drink bottle from you, twisting off the top in one smooth motion, and hands it back. “Show off,” you mutter around the plastic lip, taking a sip.
He ignores you, shuffling through the bags again. “You gonna eat some of this soup or what?”
“Are you gonna answer my question or what?”
He sighs, yellow soup sloshing around in its plastic container in his hands as he turns to you. “Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit tonight.”
“God,” you scrunch up your nose in disgust. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “It’d suck pretty bad if you died.”
A smile creeps up on your lips, stained red from your drink. “Oh, so you’re saying you’d miss me if I died?”
“The hell kind of question is that?” He asks exasperatedly, cutting his eyes at you. “‘Course I’d miss you if you died. We’re friends, remember? Or is that fever making you crazy?”
“Friendship does sound familiar,” you tease, swallowing down another gulp. The liquid quells the ache of your raw throat. “You can stay here tonight, but I’m not putting on any pants.”
“Of course not,” he mutters, coming to bring the soup over to you. When you lift the lid off it and the smell hits your nose, traveling down to your sensitive belly, you have to fight the urge to gag. “Come on, you gotta try to get something down,” he encourages, a gentle, cooling hand at the nape of your neck.
His voice, sweet like honey, is much more digestible. If you could bottle up the sound, trap it in a little pill and swallow it, maybe you’d never know sickness or pain again.
The soup is hot going down, and you can practically feel its liquid warmth splashing up against the empty lining of your stomach. Bucky’s watching your face carefully as you sip the broth down, probably looking for a warning sign that you’re going to yakk up his sweet gesture.
When you don’t think you can take anymore of the sloshing in your belly, you set the soup aside, wiping at your mouth with the back of your palm. His eyes trail the movement of your hand as it drags across your lower lip, stare lingering at the chapped skin there for just long enough for you to notice.
“How is it?” He asks suddenly, breaking away from whatever prolonged state of thought he was in before.
“It’s good,” you offer him a soft smile, lips twitching up in appreciation. “Thank you for the soup and the Gatorade… and for cleaning up after me. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” he admits. “You’re always looking after me and Sam. Somebody’s gotta look after you.”
The sincerity in his tone nestles somewhere in your chest, and you don’t know what to do with it except to expel it out into the open air in an awkward laugh.
“Well, as much as I love you guys, I hope you don’t expect me to ever clean up one of your puke buckets.”
His top lip twitches, jaw sliding forward before falling back into place again, righting itself before he says, “Doesn’t sound like love to me then.”
It takes a moment for your mind, fuzzy with some influenza, to wrap around his words and digest their meaning. By the time it does, the sentence swallowed down and bubbling in a sea of stomach acid, he’s already moving back towards the dresser, container of soup in hand.
“You gonna eat any of these crackers?”
But all your brain can produce is a single thought: Did Bucky just imply that he... loves you?
“D’you hear me?” He turns on his heel, blue eyes watching you closely. “You wanna try some of these saltines?”
“Uh, no,” you shake your head, less in answer and more in an attempt to clear the alarms blaring in your mind. Fuck, is that really what he meant by that? No—you’re losing it. “Was already pushing it with the soup.”
He frowns, tongue swiping across his bottom lip.
“At least finish your fruit punch.”
“It’s not fruit punch,” you say around the bottle. What had he meant earlier? “It’s fruit punch flavored.”
“Might as well be,” he scoffs, discarding the package of saltines on the dresser in favor of coming to sit beside you on the bed. “You ever look at how much sugar’s in those things?”
“I don’t ever look at how much sugar’s in anything.”
“You should.” He kicks off his shoes, swinging his black-socked feet up and over the duvet. It feels like your stomach could go for Olympic Gold with the somersaults it’s performing as you watch him crawl across the bed to slide into the covers next to you. “Might as well be a pound of it in Ragu.”
He leans his head back against a curled bicep. Your eyes trace the curve of the muscle there, your appetite suddenly returning.
“Ragu?” You repeat stupidly, tearing your gaze away from his insanely ripped body and back to his face.
“Don’t ask me why spaghetti sauce needs all that sugar. I mean—a pinch? I can see that, but forty fuckin’ grams?” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head, and you can’t help the way your eyebrows shoot up your forehead into your hairline.
“I didn’t realize you were so… passionate… about spaghetti sauces.”
He looks at you out the corner of his eye, narrowing them slightly. “Whatever,” his lips twitch into a smile. “I’m a passionate guy. Finish your drink before you waste away.”
“I’m not going to waste away,” you laugh at his dramatics, but you take another few gulps anyway. “I have the stomach flu, not dysentery.”
“Well, thank god for that,” he watches you take another great big red swig to oblige him. “Or you’d probably already be in a casket. Jesus, how do you live alone?”
“I barely live alone,” you huff around the sweet fruity flavor on your tongue. “You’re always at my house, raiding my fucking liquor cabinet.”
“Doing you a favor,” he angles his head to meet your eyes now. The table lamp bathes the sharp angles of his cheeks in soft yellow lighting, his nose casting a shadow over the bow of his lip. “Keepin’ your liver in working order.”
“So comforting knowing you’re always looking out for me,” you roll your eyes even as the rhythm of your heart increases.
He laughs, skin crinkling around his eyelids. “What would you do without me?”
“Live in peace,” you tease. “Or at least get more than forty-five minutes of rest.”
“Close your eyes then. By all means, don’t tire yourself out on my account.”
“Why, so you can watch me sleep?” You quirk up an eyebrow at him, stomach flipping at the way it brings a pinkness to his cheeks. “No thanks.”
“I’m not gonna watch you sleep.”
“Whatever you say.” Tilting your head back, you drain the last of the red liquid down your throat. “Will you hand me the remote?”
He reaches across the nightstand, grabbing the blue plastici remote controller and pressing it into your awaiting palm. “None of that Law & Order crap.”
“God, alright,” you mutter, beginning to flip through the channels.
“Tired of hearing you fawnin’ over that guy’s ass.”
“Chris Meloni?” You laugh out, head tilting back against his arm with the force of it. “I don’t fawn over his ass.”
“Yeah,” he huffs. “Okay.”
“Are you—?” A nervous laugh burns in your throat just like bile, and you’re thankful it sputters out clear into the air. “Are you jealous?”
His head jerks in your direction, brows knitting together. “Jealous?” He repeats, tongue peeking out to swipe a wet stripe along his lower lip. “No, I’m not—I’m not jealous, okay?”
“Okay,” you nod slowly, sweat collecting at the small of your back. “It just sounded like maybe you were.”
“Think that fever’s making you crazy again,” he grunts. “Come here and let me check your head.”
Scooting in closer to him, you watch as he lifts a hand to your forehand. It’s cool, a salve that chases away your sickness, and you shut your eyes, leaning into the touch.
“Still warm,” he mumbles dissatisfied, pulling away, blankets rustling around him. “Let me get you another—,”
“Bucky,” you still his movements with the quiet calling of his name.
When you open your eyes, he’s looking down at you with such tender regard that it steals your breath.
“Don’t make this a thing,” you begin, voice uneven in its search for air. “But that feels good… your hand on my face.”
The corner of his mouth jumps upward, the giant swell in your chest lapping up the shells of his teeth. They’re smooth white, perfect shells—the kind you find along the shore, running your fingers along their grooves before depositing back into the sand, too beautiful to carry around in your pocket for the rest of the day.
All these months, you’d been collecting his smiles, stringing them up on a line, wearing them around your neck, just above your heart.
Would he let you run your tongue along the ridges of his teeth? Deposit the perfect cockle shells of his smile on your shores, the high tide of your love smoothing them down over the years?
“Yeah?” There’s a softness in his voice, and it’s like a bridge—the fucking Golden State—connecting the bays of his heart and yours.
“Yeah,” you nod, lips parting in an inaudible gasp when metal fingers caress your chin. It feels as though you’ve swallowed down a mouthful of ocean water, salt burning in your lungs, as you struggle to say, “Makes me feel better.”
His eyes flit down to your lips, pink tongue swiping across his own. “I’m making this a thing.”
“Just lay down, will you?”
His tone is like a thick, liquid medicine, slithering down your throat and into the turbulence of your belly. It takes effect immediately, a dizzying dosage, casting a fog around your mind. Bucky looks softer in its haze, eyes round in their watching you, cheeks speckled pink like a robin’s egg.
Obliging him—how could you not, with that lilt in his voice?—you lie back against the pillows, gaze following the gunmetal of his hand as it streaks across the air, a glittering meteor in the night, and lands on the fiery surface of your forehead.
Your eyes shut against the soothing touch—it’s like a cool rag against your head, urging your fever to surrender.
“How’s that?” He asks tentatively, and you can picture the knitting of his brows together in the center of his forehead.
His response is the languid dragging of his metal fingers from one temple to the other, a delicate back-and-forth path being traced into your skin.
He hums now, and his flesh hand cups your cheek, vibranium palm pressed flat against your hairline. The rough skin of his thumb brushes little motions into the soft of your cheek, and a heat burns in your abdomen hotter than any fever.
“That feel good, too?”
You’ve got cotton-mouth, a side effect of this medicine he’s given you. “Mhm.”
The television is droning on, the hushed sounds of dialogue incomprehensible, overtaken by the insane beating of your heart in your chest. It’s thudding so loudly, drums in the echo chamber of your ribcage, that you wonder if Bucky can hear it.
A period of time passes—you’re not sure how long, but the television now glows purple and pink against your eyelids with a rheumatoid arthritis pharmaceutical commercial—where there is nothing but Bucky’s cool hands and your burning face. Nothing exists but for the gentle touch of the man that you love. There is no time and no space, only the words you don’t say.
He speaks when the commercial’s long list of side effects comes to an end, the honey-sweetness of his voice a break from the monotone voice of the narrator.
“You getting tired now?”
A little laugh escapes you. “I’ve been tired.”
“Right.” A pause. Ten heartbeats. “Do you—you want me to hold you? You know, help you sleep?”
The entire bleeding, cellulose organ of your heart is in your throat. You choke around it. “That would be—yeah, that’d be nice. Thank you.”
Your eyes flutter open then, and the sight of him leaning above you makes your head swim, salty ocean waves crashing against your temple. He’s all dark pupils and pink lips, his cheeks reddened like he’s spent all day in the sun. Every inch of your skin burns with it, this vision of him, this post-beach day version of Bucky.
He wraps his flesh arm around your middle, tugging you flush against his chest. His chin rests on the pillow above your bed, metal arm snaking around your waist. Vibranium fingertips trace circles into your forearm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You can feel his heartbeat, strong and quickening, against your back.
“How you feelin’?”
“I feel…” Dizzy in love with you. “I feel good—better. Thank you.”
“Not a problem.” Flesh fingers find your temple, petting along the cold sweat at your hairline. “Get some rest.”
“You’re not gonna watch me sleep are you?” You attempt to tease, to return to some semblance of your normal banter. His soft chuckle, the rumbling of his chest against your spine, is an aspirin for the reeling of your head.
“And so what if I do? What are you gonna do about it?”
“Nothing,” you laugh, and it’s an exhausted sound.
You are so tired, and his arms are so safe. They’re a place where you could never be hurt, never be sick—never choke to death on your vomit in your sleep.
The beating of his heart against your back mixes with the tender touch of cool fingers on your skin to form a potent sedative, the measure of it coursing through your veins, dragging you under the black veil of sleep.
As your chest rises and falls in steady low and high tides, mind beginning to calm, he presses his lips to your temple, depositing the most gentle and tender of kisses there.
Your stomach flips once, twice, three times, never once sticking the landing, lurching into the wall for your abdomen.
“Bucky?” You struggle against that thick blanket of sleep, voice muffled with it. His fingers still in their movements, his body tensing at your back.
“You, uh—you awake?”
He knows the answer.
“Bucky, what did you mean earlier?” You twist in the cage of his arms, angling your neck to get a look at his face. “About the puke bucket? I said I wouldn’t clean up after you or Sam.”
“What?” His cheeks are a sheet of pink, no longer speckled, eyebrows drawn down over his eyes.
“You said that didn’t sound like love to you.”
“I know what I said—,”
“But you cleaned up after me.”
“So does that…” You blink, teetering on the edge of something dangerous. Six heartbeats. You fall headfirst. “Is that what love looks like to you? Cleaning up after me?”
He’s quiet. The movement of his metal fingers begins again, an absent-minded motion at your elbow as the gears in his mind turn over.
He attempts a tiny chuckle. “Guess I wouldn’t be holdin’ Sam like this if he had the flu.”
“Oh my god—,”
“Yeah,” he nods then. “It is—cleaning up after you, takin’ care of you—that’s what it looks like to me. Love.”
“If you’re gonna break my heart, can it wait until morning?” There’s a downtrodden sadness that darkens the usual teasing in his voice. “Already told Torres he could have my room for the night—it’d be a little awkward to explain if you kick me out—,”
“If I wasn’t so sick, I’d kiss you right now.”
He doesn’t miss a beat, eyebrows raising in surprise even as the white of his teeth glint in the soft glow of the table lamp. “I don’t mind.”
Taking in the sight of him, you realize that his cheeks are pink under your sun. He’s spent all day on your beaches, feet dipped in your waters. The rolling waves of his laugh are yours to float in, the blue of his eyes a life raft in case you drown in the currents of this overwhelming, all-consuming affection.
“Then come here.”
He leans in, lips soft and gentle against yours, flesh hand cupping the side of your face. It’s a sweet kiss, a tender introduction to the lifelong experience of kissing Bucky.
When he breaks the kiss, wide smile stretching on his face from cheek to cheek, he pulls your back against his chest again, peppering your warm forehead with kisses. The cool metal of his hand rubs soothing circles into your side, just above the waistband of your Thursday panties.
That heavy, dark blanket of sleep is pulled up around your head, eyelids closed against it. When you wake, Bucky’s arms will still be around you, and the shell of his teeth will still be yours to run your tongue along their edges, and you will taste the salt in his mouth and know you are well.
1K notes · View notes
In Return - Harry Styles
a/n: i just really wanted to write something with cockwarming and... this is that. that’s all, just a short fic to get it off my mind lmao
warning: cockwarming and sex ofc
word count: 1.2k
“Pretty please! I’m begging you!”
Following Harry into the kitchen you pout at him, giving him your best puppy eyes as he moves around, trying to ignore you, but he miserably fails, especially when he glances at you and sees your pouty look that’s all for him. He can never resist it, you know that and use it against him pretty often.
“Why are you so obsessed with it anyway?” he asks sighing.
“Because I’m dying to see you with a good, smudged smoky-eye look, just like the rest of the world!” you stomp your foot against the checkered tile. You’ve been trying to get him to let you do his makeup for the longest time, but you just saw an edited picture of him floating around the internet where someone put dark eyeshadow on him and he looked so damn hot, you just have to see it for real.
“What do I get in return?” he cockily smirks at you, tilting his head to the side.
“I don’t know, what do you want?” you shrug. You watch him think for a little before his grin widens.
“Okay, you can do it, only if I can put it in while you do it.”
Your lips part at the proposal. Harry has been oddly obsessed with cockwarming, you have no idea where it came from, but he just wants to do it every possible chance, watching TV, sitting in the tub or when you’re just chilling in bed. Every time, he somehow ends up inside you, but it doesn’t always end up with sex, he just… likes to be inside you. Feel you close and warm and you’re not opposed to that, you just don’t know what this sudden obsession with it is.
“Deal,” you nod and he cocks an eyebrow at you.
Harry plops himself down to the couch as you grab your makeup bag and join him, setting everything you need to the couch beside him. He grabs you by your waist, pulling you on top of him, his lips crashing against yours in a short but sweet kiss. When you crotch meets his, you can already feel him hardening in his sweatpants.
“Got everything you need, baby?” he asks, giving your bum a gentle smack.
“Yep,” you nod proudly.
“Okay, then you know what to do,” he smirks, so full of himself for getting you do it again, not that you mind having him inside you, it always makes you feel connected to him.
Reaching down you move your underwear to the side as Harry tugs his hard cock out of his pants and you take him by the base before guiding him inside, slowly sinking down before you sit on him completely, his erection filling you up just perfectly. You both let out a satisfied huff from the feeling, Harry hums in content, nuzzling his nose against yours before leaning back and letting you do whatever you want with him.
As you work on his makeup look, his hands gently massage your bare thighs and bum, patiently putting up with whatever you are doing to his face. Your vision for the look was a kind of Effy Stonem inspired look, just even more smudged, a version that screams “I’m looking hella sexy wearing my girlfriend’s eyeshadow, what are you gonna do about that”.
Though you try your absolute best to focus on the makeup, you can’t ignore the growing desire between your legs and the urge to just start moving your hips. He feels way too good filling you up just so casually. When you lean closer to work on his lower waterline, you accidentally buck your hips, a moan escaping your lips at the friction the movement just created.
“Everything alright, baby?” he asks with an innocent looking smile, but he is far from that, he is the biggest tease to ever exist. That’s probably why he loves cockwarming so much, he knows how easily you get turned on by it and he loves seeing you struggle with your desire and will to just stay put when he is inside you completely.
“Yeah,” you breathe out steadying yourself. “Everything is fine.”
“Alright,” he smiles, satisfied with the situation he created for himself.
Hardly, but you manage to finish his look without losing self-control and riding him shamelessly. When you’re done, you lean back and cup his face in your palms.
“Open your eyes,” you tell him and the next moment his beautiful green irises appear from under his black eyelids, shining more vividly than ever. He looks breathtaking. Absolutely stunning and if you weren’t convinced before, now you surely are that he is the hottest man to ever walk this Earth.
“Holy shit,” you breathe out, feeling your insides reacting to the sight in front of you. You knew he would rock the makeup look, but seeing it for real is just a shocking experience.
“You like it?” he simply asks.
“I…” you start, but you have no idea what to say, instead you lean down and kiss him hard. That will tell him how much you like it.
Your self-control is now long gone, in a heartbeat you start rolling your hips, doing what you’ve been aching to do the past thirty minutes and it doesn’t seem like Harry is at all against your actions. His fingers dig into your waist, urging you to move faster as your kisses get more and more vigorous and demanding.
“Fuck,” you breathe out pulling back, laying your eyes at Harry again, the sight making you whine. You quickly grab his shirt and pull it off to see his bare, tattooed chest and you feel like combusting instantly.
“Feels good, baby?” he pants kissing your neck sloppily.
“Yes! Harry, you feel so fucking good,” you cry out, feeling your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach.
To add to the feeling, he starts thrusting up, meeting your movements, a long moan bursting out of you at the sensation.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock you sat on so well,” he encourages, his words pushing you towards your edge even more. You grab his face, looking down at him in awe before you smash your lips against his, kissing him hard when you feel your release washing over you. His name rolls off your lips again and again and he follows you a few moments later, growling in satisfaction, his fingers digging into your ass this time as he comes inside you.
After stopping your movements you remain sitting on his lap with his softening cock inside you, trying to catch your breath. Running your fingers down the side of his face you admire his smudged smoky look and you can’t help but smile at how good he looks, but it’s not that big of a surprise. There’s nothing Harry can’t pull off.
“Well, that was a first,” he chuckles, blinking at you with tired eyes.
“Having my girlfriend ride me after she just did my makeup.”
You burst out laughing and leaning down you kiss his lips slowly, taking your time with him.
“I just couldn’t help it, you look so fucking hot,” you mumble against his lips.
“Yeah? Maybe I should let you do my makeup more often if this is the outcome of it,” he cockily grins up at you.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
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~NSFW 18+ only~ Minors will be blocked. Age in bio.
Word count: 600
Warnings: afab, oral, a bit of humiliation
~A/n~ I do apologize for this one being so short. I usually try to be at 1k words. I'll do better next time
can you do an eret x female reader, and he eats her out on the throne
Eret had meetings galore. The newly crowned royal was very popular, which was not pleasant for you. This meant less time for you and him together. You put a plan to motion, soon this would all change. When he wasn't in the room you climbed into his throne. Eret had left to look for you, however, excited for a moment alone.
After a few confusing minutes, he found you in the throne room where he had just left. "Love-" their voice faltered seeing your face. You motioned your finger for him to come closer.
"You've been busy and I've missed you," you pouted.
"I think you should make it up to me,"
"of course," he murmured kneeling in front of you. He grasped one of your legs, pressing soft kisses up it. It wasn't a surprise that when he reached the edge of your dress and pushed it up, you were wearing no underwear. Eret kissed at your bare thighs. You spread your legs invitingly.
"Well? Get on with it, your majesty," you said his title mockingly.
You felt hot breath between your thighs before you felt his tongue. They got to work right away.
Eret flattened their tongue against your hole. He wrapped his arms around your legs, if you were going to cum, you would cum on his tongue only. No fingers. Your hands flew to his hair as he shoved his tongue in. You whimpered as they began fucking you.
He wanted to take his time however, there was no rush. Eret's tongue moved up to circle your clit, sucking lightly. You brushed through his hair gently.
The throne room doors suddenly opened. Shocked green eyes landed on the two of you. "E-eret?" His eyes widened at Dream's voice and they attempted to pull away. Your grip in his hair tightened keeping him against you. Eret let out a small whine. "Keep going," Eret kept lapping and fucking you with his tongue. Dream still hadn't moved from where he stood.
"Dream. What can I help you with?" He was still staring at Eret.
"Don't mind him, nng, they're in their rightful place," your heel dug into Eret's shoulder. They whimpered still continuing to please you. Your hips bucked down against his tongue. You could tell you were getting close.
"Why don't you wait outside Dream," blushing he headed back out the door.
"S-so close, doing so good," you praised Eret. His fingers pushed your thighs open more as they attempted to close around his head. You squirmed in the throne, thighs quivering as you came. Eret's tongue skillfully cleaning you up.
When Dream was let back in he didn't look either of you in the eye. His eyes lingering on the throne where Eret now sat. You waited patiently as Eret discussed things with Dream calmly. As if his face hadn't been between your thighs and covered in cum a few minutes ago.
A hand enclosed on your chin bringing it down to Eret. The whites of his eyes peeked over his glasses.
"You might have thought that was funny earlier humiliating me like that pet. But just know I'll be returning the favor. We'll see who's in their rightful place soon enough," Eret let go of your chin. You gulped looking down. It wasn't just a threat, it was a promise. But oh well. Might as well piss them off more.
Just as Dream left the door he caught a glance of you whispering something into Eret's ear. You nipped his earlobe before running off. Eret calmly in pursuit.
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you’re mine - Natasha Romanoff
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Warnings: smut 18+ ONLY, strap-on use, oral, fingering, degradation, praise, mommy kink, choking, squirting (let me know if I missed anything)
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: Nat gets jealous and shows you who you belong to
Request: I was thinking something where Nat is jealous because R is training with Wanda and Nat essentially drags R to their room, where she tells R to put on the strap and Nat rides her or even rides her fingers and says 'you're mine' etc etc and R reassures her???
A/N: I was already thinking about this concept and then you requested it and I had to write it. I’m also still working on August and some other requests so stay tuned for more! (Also, would you guys want me to star a wips list? I can if y’all want, just let me know)
kotenok - kitten
No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.
Gif not mine
“She’s watching you,” Wanda said as you dodged her punch.
“Oh I know,” You said, smirking. “That’s the point.”
Wanda’s eyes wandered to the fuming redhead and you took advantage of her distraction to knock her off her feet and pin her down onto the mat. You looked up at your girlfriend to see her smirking at you, giving Wanda the perfect opportunity to buck her hips and flip you over, successfully pinning you under her. You didn’t notice, but Natasha jerked forward and started walking towards the mat, only one person gets to pin you down and it’s not Wanda.
“Sneaky,” You said as she got off you and snickered. You sat up and looked at your girlfriend who was standing just off the mat, arms crossed and eyes dark. “Yes?”
Natasha raised her eyebrow and tilted her head at you and gave you the look. And you knew you were in deep shit. She turned around and started walking back towards the door, stopping and waiting for you to follow her. You gulped and stood up, walking over to her.
“I’ll see you later, Wanda,” You said walking through the door, hearing her laughter fade as you walked away from the gym.
Natasha gripped your forearm, her nails digging into your skin and pushed you against the wall of the hallway. You widened your eyes and looked around, making sure no one was seeing this. Natasha pressed her body against yours, her leg wedging itself between your thighs, making you gasp as she lowered her mouth to your ear.
“Hope you had fun with your little stunt, slut,” She whispered, then kissed down your neck sucking a mark when you released a moan. “You’re mine, nobody else gets to touch you.”
“N-nat,” You started, hands gripping onto her shirt, subconsciously pulling her closer to you as she lowered her head back down to mark you once again. “We were just training.”
“I don’t care,” She said, lifting herself completely off of you. Her hand went back to your arm, dragging you further down the hallway and down the two flights of stairs to your floor in complete silence.
The second the door to your shared room closed, she pushed you down onto the bed, telling you to take your clothes off and you immediately complied, hands shaking in anticipation. Natasha simply watched you reveal more and more skin to her, thinking of all the places she wanted to mark, just to make it crystal clear that you belonged to her.
The second you removed the last garment off your body, Natasha’s hands were on you. She pulled your face towards hers and crashed her lips against yours. She was desperate for contact, one of the main reasons she got so worked up watching you spar with Wanda was because you looked so good in your tight workout leggings and loose tank top and she wanted to be the one to pin you down.
So that’s exactly what she did. She pinned you down on the bed, her hips over yours, and your hands pinned above your head. She pulled away for a second to admire the view, before plunging her head into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting on the skin there, then moving down, leaving marks every few inches. Her hands moved up the sides of your body, nails lightly scratching against your skin, then cupping your breasts, making your body arch into her touch.
Your hands twitched above your head as Natasha began grinding her hips onto yours, you could feel your own arousal increasing between your legs, hips bucking to meet hers. Natasha pulled away from you then, you whined, your hands instinctively gripping onto her hips, trying to make her start moving again. The red head laughed before leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“Patience, kotenok,” She pulled your earlobe between her teeth while her hands made their way down your arms to grip your hands and roughly pin them above your head again. “Now be a good girl for Mommy and don’t move an inch, then maybe you’ll get a reward.”
Natasha moved down your body, settling herself between your thighs. her hands moved up and down your inner thighs, making goosebumps erupt all over your skin. She pressed her lips to the inside of your knee and started kissing up your thigh to where you wanted her most, making sure to leave love bites wherever she could.
She looked up at you once more, seeing you with half lidded eyes looking down at her, before spreading your legs wider and running her tongue through your folds. You moaned and had to fight the urge to buck your hips up and to tangle your hands through her hair, settling on clutching onto the bedsheets above you.
You were trying really hard not to move, the only thought running through your head to please your girlfriend, quickly getting overshadowed by the feeling of her tongue circling your clit. Your breath caught in your throat as you started feeling the familiar coil in your stomach.
“Nata-” You were interrupted by her pulling her mouth away from your pussy and slapping it hard, making you scream out.
“That’s not my name,” She said, her mouth sucking on the skin of your inner thigh, driving you insane.
“M-mommy,” You stuttered, managing to look down at her as she smirked and connected her lips to your clit once again, quickly working you close to the edge.
“I’m close,” You said, panting. Natasha pulled away from you, a whine leaving your lips. She licked her lips, coated in your juices, and ran her thumb over your clit and down your slit, making you shudder in anticipation.
“Who do you belong to?” She asked, her green eyes locking with yours. You were still trying to gather your thoughts, mind too hazy from her thumb rubbing soft and slow circles over your clit. She leaned over you so her mouth was hovering right above yours. “I asked you a question, kotenok.”
“Y-you,” You mumbled, managing to look at her and form a coherent sentence. “I belong to you, Mommy.”
“That’s right,” She said before crashing your lips together. You could taste your own arousal on her tongue, as she moved her lips against yours. Her hand wandered back to your core and she plunged two fingers into you, making you moan into her mouth and out of reflex arch your body into her.
She smirked against your lips briefly before pulling away, her hand coming down in a hard slap against your pussy when you whined.
“I told you not to move, slut,” She said, slapping both sides of your inner thighs, a loud moan escaping your lips. Her thumb went back to rubbing circles on your clit while she pumped two fingers into you. You practically screamed at the sudden change of pace, pushing yourself into her hand.
“’M s-sorr- Oh fuck!” Natasha curled her fingers inside you, ripping a loud whorish moan from your throat. Your brain turned to mush and all you could focus on was the feeling of your girlfriend’s fingers inside you. Her free hand moved to your nipple, twisting it just enough to send you into a frenzy - just the right amount of pleasure and pain. You moaned out, not able to make any other noise.
Just as quickly as you felt yourself start clenching around Natasha’s fingers she pulled them away again, sticking them into her mouth, moaning at the taste of you on her fingers. You whined, tears prickling at your eyes as she looked down at you.
“Oh, kotenok,” She said, fake innocence dripping from her voice. “Do you think you deserve to cum?”
You tried regulating your breathing, trying to keep your frustrated tears from spilling. You looked at Natasha, her stare knocking the little air you gathered in your lungs back out.
“Look at you, so fucked out and I haven’t even made you cum yet,” Her hands cupped your face, wiping the few tears that inevitably spilled. “Such a pretty little slut.”
“P-please, Mommy,” You begged, desperate for a release.
“Make me cum, princess,” She looked away from you, tilting her head to the side in consideration. “Then I’ll think about letting you cum.”
Before your body could react, Natasha pushed herself off the bed and moved to the dresser, opening your toy drawer and taking out her favorite strap then tossing it to you. You looked down at it on the bed, then looked back up, a grin spreading across your face.
“Put it on,” Natasha said, smirking at your reaction and starting to take off her clothes, only now noticing she was still fully clothed. You slipped it over your legs and started struggling with the harness. Natasha noticed you struggle and came over, kneeling on the bed, helping you secure it around your body, then cupping your cheek with one hand, running her thumb over your cheekbone. “So pretty.”
You kissed her, pulling her closer to your body and finally running your hands over her naked body. One of your hands cupping and gently squeezing her breast while the other travelled down, running your fingers through her folds. She was dripping. You were slightly taken aback, Natasha taking this opportunity to push you down onto your back, straddling you once again.
“You might be wearing the strap, honey,” She said, aligning the strap with her entrance. “But I’m still the one in charge.”
She lowered herself onto you, bottoming out with a moan. She started bucking her hips, tits bouncing with her movement. Your hand gripped her hips, as your hips started slowly moving to meet her movements. Natasha threw her head back, her moans getting louder with each thrust.
In a brief moment of courage, you buck your hips up into her, and you’ve never heard your girlfriend make that sound but god you wanted to hear it again. You kept up your movements, Natasha’s cheeks flushing from her arousal, her hands cupping your breasts and squeezing. You moaned and bucked your hips again as she dragged her nails down your stomach.
“F-fuck, baby,” She mumbled out, taking a moment to appreciated you looking up at her, eye glistening with desire. Her eyes trailed down to your neck and chest, littered with love bites and hickeys.
“You look so pretty all marked up like this,” She moaned again, you could tell she was getting closer to her release. Her hand made its way up your body to around your neck, pressing down on the sides, giving you a head rush, causing you to moan her name loudly. “That’s right baby, let everyone know I’m the only one that can make you feel like this.”
“You are,” You said, grabbing onto her forearm and increasing your pace. “I’m yours, Mommy, all yours.”
“You’re mine,” She said, her pace also increasing to meet your thrusts. Natasha released a string of breathy moans that were music to your ears, encouraging you even more. Her grip on your throat tightened and you knew she was about to cum.
“Only yours,” You said as she screamed out, clamping her eyes shut and letting her orgasm rip through her, her arousal coating the strap and dripping onto the sheets. She rode out her orgasm, bouncing on the dildo, slowing her pace.
She opened her eyes back up, and lifted herself off you, eagerly taking the strap off and sliding the harness down your body before throwing it on the ground. She climbed back on top of you, pressing her thigh against your dripping core before attaching her lips onto yours. You moaned into her mouth and started grinding against her thigh.
“You did so well, baby,” She said, kissing down your neck and pressing kisses over each mark she made on your neck and torso. “Cum whenever you want, darling.”
She kissed down your body, immediately attaching her lips to your clit once she settled herself between your legs. Your back arched into the air as a moan ripped through you. Natasha switched between sucking and licking your clit, driving you crazy and closer to the edge.
She plunged two fingers into you, your hips bucking against her face, making her smirk against you. She started feeling your walls clench around her fingers and she added another finger while curling them, completely pushing you over the edge with a loud throaty moan ripping through you.
Your entire body shook as electricity flowed through your veins, your own juices spilling out of you and onto the sheets. Natasha pulled away, eyes shining and completely amazed as she licked you clean while you came down from your high.
“You’re gonna have to do that again.”
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
feedback is always welcome :)
400 Besties Celebration
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white wolf: “the show must go on”
first part — second part
third part — fourth part (soon)
© gif credits to the author, i found it on google. if you're the author lemme know your @.
bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.
Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it’s a disaster, but he gets it.
word count: 1'9k.
warnings/tags: none. bucky being so innocent gives me life. + he being so damn cute as always.
author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.
Join the tag list here.
“Have plans with your girl tonight?”
Bucky clicked his tongue, putting down the weight to the holder, not turning to Sam still doing squats and an awkward noise out of breath. His partner couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and giggle while shaking his head, fast enough to steal the soldier's clean towel before he reached it.
“She's not my girl”.
“Not yet, you mean, uh?” He joked then, using the clothing like a whip to hit the metal arm. “But, you have plans or not?”
“Yeah, we have plans”. Bucky admitted eventually, glancing at Sam also stealing his bottle of water. “She invited me to watch a movie”.
It was the innocent and unworried tone of voice from him that made Sam choke, cough, and laugh at once.
“Oh, man… Can't believe you're sinful enough to do what we do but too innocent to not see what that means”.
“It means we're gonna watch a movie”.
Bucky was confused at the laughter, trying to understand what he was referring to as he rested his back against the wall and crossed both arms over his chest. Expecting anything else from his wise friend.
“This is the twenty-first century, you ancient. We don't watch movies”.
“What d— What do you mean? You have Netflix, HBO, Prime Video… What's the point?”
Sam was deadpanned, staring in silence at the soldier, not believing what his ears were hearing. “We, guys, don't watch movies with girls, even less when they are the ones inviting us”.
Bucky squinted at him, tilting his head like a lost poppy would do, not being able to read between lines. His partner gasped exasperated, running a hand up and down his face.
“You know, man? Sometimes I feel alone, not having anyone to laugh with about that forties' manners of yours. Should I call Sarah, maybe?”
“Cut the show”. He hissed standing up and passing him away.
“Oh, no, no, no… the show has just started, man, and I have my popcorn ready”.
Bucky had been beating around the bush the whole day, trying to let it out of his mind. Of course, it was something that would happen sooner or later, and —more than of course— he wanted it to happen. The mere fact of thinking about you and him, flesh against flesh, hearing you moaning his name and making you feel good caused him goosebumps and an awkward sensation beneath his black jeans. Suddenly, swallowing saliva turned impossible, biting his lower lip while ringing the intercom of your apartment. Your response didn't last more than a couple of seconds, opening the door downstairs and waiting for him at the entrance of your apartment.
The butterflies fluttered within your bellies when Bucky stepped out of the lift, showing you that charming smile that could make you kill anyone who dared to erase it from his face.
“Trying to get me drunk?” You joked as he raised the bottle of red wine in his left hand.
“Missed you today”. You whispered at the soft kiss on your lips and his arm getting wrapped around your lower waist.
“So did I”. He sighed, sounding a little tired, caressing your nose with his.
Yesterday he talked to you about a routine medical check-up the government used to do every six months until he earned his pardon. Four hours of intense exercise to make sure the supersoldier serum was still doing its effect, as he started to feel somewhat tired since he stayed in Wakanda. For Bucky, it was really easy to open up himself with you and talk about his past and some of the things he did. And he didn't complain when you helped him to take off his leather jacket, watching him rubbing his left shoulder.
“I, uh… also was this morning with Sam. Training”. He told you, following you to your kitchen to find a couple of glasses. Turning at him, you couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Don't look at me like that… I know to perfection what you're thinking”.
“You're a telepath now?”
“God, no. I have enough with the voices inside my head, to hear someone's else”. He chuckled resting against the fridge. “But you're very expressive and I was trained to read body language”.
“So, what am' thinking?” You asked driven by curiosity, entertained on opening the bottle of wine.
“Look at this guy… He looks hotter than a barbecue”.
You broke into a loud laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed the drink and the glasses. “Not even close, Sergeant”.
“Liar”. He blurted into your face, passing him away to the living room where the Thai takeaway was waiting for the two of you.
“I'm not lying! You're a lousy body reader”.
“So… you can do it better, uh?”
“Didn't say so, but… yeah”. You replied, placing the wine and the glasses on the coffee table next to the big green sofa.
“Okay, go ahead. What am 'thinking, genius?”
Standing in front of him, some inches away, you squinted at his eyes in advance of touring his posture from top to bottom with your orbs.
“Look at that girl… she's hotter than a volcano”.
“Not even closer, soldier”. Bucky repeated your words, kissing his teeth and causing you to laugh again.
The night went on, enjoying your dinner and watching the first part of Scary Movie. Since Bucky told you that he loved the horror genre, you thought that it'd be a good start. As you finished the Thai dishes, you two cuddled on your sofa, and it felt nice to be embraced by his muscly arms and had your head rested on his shoulder. He had never been that happier before, imagining for a moment —staring at you by the corner of his eyes— that he wasn't a retired lethal assassin controlled by a bunch of psychos, just a guy watching a movie with his girl.
For some reason that increased his pulse, having to clear his throat as the thought dried it. You couldn't let it go, wrinkling your nose with curiosity, raising your face slightly at Bucky trying to focus on the movie, and pretending everything was going okay.
“What?” He murmured about to laugh nervously, putting his head back a couple of inches to look better at you.
“Seems like you're gonna have a heart attack, what's the matter?”
The soldier breathed heavily through his nostril, expelling all the air in a sight through his parted lips. A lower giggle escaped them as your eyes widened a little more interested in his response to your question.
“Sam… Sam said something this morning”.
There it was. Your grimace turned skeptical, sitting up to borrow the control remote and pause the movie. Turning to face him and placing an arm on the headrest, you puckered your lips in a funny gesture watching him click his tongue.
“Things are different nowadays and… y'know, we used to watch movies”.
“And that's what we're doing”.
“Yeah, but… it's like… now there are some kinds of non-speak social rules”.
You knew exactly what he was referring to and seeing him somewhat troubled and tense just made your heart melt. It wasn't that he was scared, but it almost felt like.
“Is it your first time since the forties?” You dared to ask, clearly with no intentions of making fun of him.
“I've never really… y'know, I was in my twenties when I left Brooklyn. I me— mean, 'm not stupid, okay? I've done things but not… sex like… to the whole point”. Bucky didn't have his eyes on you when he made that confession, rubbing the bridge of his nose by inertia as his nervousness increased. “And now everything… is pretty different”.
“It doesn't have to”. You just replied, stretching a hand to his right one to intertwine your fingers. “Listen, Buck… We don't have to, okay? We don't have to do anything if you're not ready. We can watch the movie and then… you can go, or you can stay to sleep with me”.
“I'd like that”.
“Yeah, totally, if you excuse me, ma'am… I gotta leave” He clearly joked, about to stand up until you pushed him down to the sofa bursting in laughter. “Nah, I, uh… I mean, I'd like to sleep with you tonight”.
“I'd like too, and to wake up tomorrow morning with you”.
“Yeah, would be very awkward if you go to sleep with me and wake up with another guy in your bed”.
Bucky smirked at you, biting his upper lip before leaning to press both on yours. He couldn't believe you were being so comprehensive with him, not making any other uncomfortable questions, nor kicking his ass out of your house. At that moment, he realized he was madly in love with you, bringing you closer to himself so he could embrace you tenderly between his arms. And you let him, not wanting anything else than to be with him.
At the moment the movie finished, you both stretched your hands to the ceiling with a yawn opening your mouths. You palmed his thigh to beckoning at him, urging the soldier to follow you as you rubbed your eyes using your knuckles, a little sleepy. Turning off the lights on your way to your room, you changed your clothes for a baggy Iron Maiden's t-shirt, as he stripped himself leaving his clothes on the chair in front of your bed, only wearing a pair of black boxers at the end.
You were about to ask him which side he preferred when the words died on your tongue, glancing at him with his flesh hand over his dark grey shoulder. It was the first time you saw the vibranium arm in all its glory and Bucky gave you the impression of being embarrassed. He'd never stop surprising you with plenty of emotions for things that for you didn't have any importance actually —like the fact of not having two real arms.
“Come here”. You murmured, kneeling on the mattress and palming the other lateral, observing every one of his actions till lying next to him, in the middle of the gloom of your room.
Covering both of you with the sheets and turning on your sides to face each other, Bucky took the initiative of wrapping you close to his chest, as he placed his head on your pillow. He couldn't help but take a soft breath from your heavenly smell impregnated in, provoking a smile to grow on your lips. Surrounding his neck with your arms, you sunk your fingers in his short hair, gently caressing his scalp while you started to spread tender short kisses all around his face.
“This feels good”. He purred with such a pleased tone of voice, closing his eyes as he adventured his warm hand under your shirt to draw invisible patterns on your back.
“So good”. You affirmed, peppering his cheek with a bunch of noisy smooches.
Bucky squeezed you between his grip, hiding his face into the gap of your shoulder and neck, causing you goosebumps because of his exhalation against your skin. He was comfortable being that close, with no distance separating your chests and your legs intertwined in a bundle. You saw how relaxed he was when he pulled his head back to the pillow, noses touching and his eyelids closed.
“Good night, Buck”. You whispered, still feeling his caresses on your back, leaning to kiss him one last time.
“Good night, doll”.
a / n: i hope you have enjoyed the fluffiness of these three chapters because the fourth is gonna be... chaotic.
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Hard to Handle
Pairing: nomad!Steve Rogers x enhanced!Fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (slight AU)
Summary: Your first mission with team nomad goes pretty well, unless you ask Steve.
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (thigh riding, handjobs, oral sex (m/f receiving), threesome, slightly acrobatic spitroasting, cum eating, unprotected vaginal sex, double penetration), protective!Steve, soft!Bucky, SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!!!
A/N: This has been in my WIP folder forever! I am so happy it’s finally finished! A technical continuation of my Merry Christmas Bucky fic, but can def be read as a one shot. And it’s another sassy reader for y’all!
Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!!!
“I’m not wearing that, Nat.”
“Would you pull the stick out of your ass, Y/N? It’s standard issue.”
“Standard issue decided by which ancient white guy?” You said, eyeing the catsuit with a look of contempt.
“Really, that’s the argument you’re going to use?” Nat said as she rolled her eyes at you. “You’re dressed like the fucking tomb raider.”
You shot a vicious glare at Steve and Bucky behind you when you heard them snorting and chuckling at yours and Nat’s bickering. “You two can just shut the fuck up. I’m not spending my first op with you bastards with a camel toe.”
“They’re a lot more comfortable now.” Nat cooed at you, waving the suit teasingly.
“Yeah, honey they’re really not that bad.” Bucky said, ever the mediator.
“Says the man who walks around looking like a post-punk dominatrix.” You snarled under your breath, finally causing Steve to break down hysterically as Buck pouted at you. “And what’re you laughing about? I’ve seen your trading cards, Star-spangled man.”
“God, Y/N, I cannot believe how big of a bitch you’re being over a damn stealth suit.” Nat scolded, shaking her head as she watched the two super soldiers fight between cracking up and sulking. “Just put the fucking thing on.”
You snatched it from her with a growl. “Where am I supposed to put all my knives?” You whined as you started to strip.
“There’s plenty of sheathes built in.”
“I guess I’ll just hope I don’t have to pee while we’re gone.” You mumbled, tossing your clothes back on the bed before stepping into the suit, shimmying it up your body with a series of comical bounces until you could finally zip it closed.
You turned to see Steve and Buck staring at you lasciviously, their eyes raking over your body now that you were in the skintight suit. They stood up in tandem and started to prowl towards you.
“No! Back off you two!” You yelled at them like a couple of dogs that just laid eyes on an unattended steak. “I just got this fucking thing on! And we have to leave, now!” You ran out of the room after Nat, who was laughing hysterically at the three of you.
The two of them snapped out of it and gave you sheepish grins as you headed to your weapons room to stock up. You were pleasantly surprised at how many knives you were able to slip into the suit, not that you’d ever let Nat know she was right. You grabbed a rifle and pistol, just to be safe, and headed out to the jet with the rest of the team.
Sam, Wanda, and Vision were waiting for you on the jet, Sam practically bouncing with excitement as he handed you your comm link.
“Y/N, I am so excited you finally decided to join us on one of these. It’s gonna be amazing.” He said around a massive grin that you couldn’t help but return.
“Yeah, well I couldn’t let you guys keep having fun without me.” You murmured as you buckled yourself in across from him for takeoff.
Steve and Bucky sat on either side of you, still eye fucking you pretty openly as the jet rattled and lifted off the ground. You did your best to ignore the two of them as you waited for everything to stabilize, chatting with Sam about what to expect on the mission.
“So, arms dealing?” You asked, not acknowledging the two sets of blue eyes that were boring into you.
“That’s sure what it looks like. Found a bunch of HYDRA tech that they’re running through the black market in Copenhagen. We’re gonna burn that shit down!”
“God, I can’t wait to peel you out of that thing.” Bucky muttered just loud enough for you to hear him. “I bet it’s like a goddamn flavor saver.”
“Oh my god, comms are live you fucking pervert!” Sam moaned, burying his head in his hands as Nat cracked up.
You gave a small smile at Sam’s embarrassment as the jet finally stabilized and you all unbuckled to stretch your legs. Your two super soldiers were still sticking to you as you tried to chat up Wanda about anything. Really just small talk but the two of them wouldn’t let you be.
“Could you excuse us for a second Wanda?” You said, your nostrils flaring with annoyance as you turned to the two of them. “Could you two crawl out of my ass for a second?! What the fuck is with you?”
Bucky at least had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, but you could tell Steve was about to get stubborn with you.
“Look, Y/N, this is your first op in how many years? We just wanna make sure your totally prepared and have all the support you need for your first time in the field.”
“Wait a minute, are you trying to put training wheels on me?” You hissed at him, jabbing your finger into his chest. He took a step back, trying to stammer a reply as you stared him down.
“Told you she’d be pissed, Rogers.” Bucky said with a shake of his head, moving to strap on a chute as you backed Steve into the wall.
You rounded on him, the rest of the team doing their best to focus on anything else; except Nat, who was grinning at you as they all prepped for the jump.
“You two assholes.” You seethed as you tightened the straps on your guns before grabbing a chute. “Your goddamn fucking army mindset. I’m not some green cadet that needs a babysitter.” The red light started flashing to signal that you were reaching the jump point and you stalked towards the back of the jet, still ignoring the two of them as you ranted. “I can take care of myself.”
You didn’t give them a chance to answer before running down the ramp and diving out of the plane, turning to flip them off as you plunged towards the ground.
Wanda and Vision went next, neither of them needing to use a chute. Sam just chuckled and shrugged before following and Nat outright cackled at the two of them before falling gracefully out of the plane.
“Well, that went great!” Bucky said sarcastically. “Put your chute on dumbass.” He scolded Steve as he stared after you, scowling. Steve strapped one on, grumbling to himself.
They jumped off in tandem, tucking in their limbs as they dove to join the rest of the team.
“Ok, those of us without the power of flight should deploy at 3,000 feet to avoid pancaking. Please acknowledge.” Sam said over comms, all business now that people’s lives were on the line.
“Got it.” Nat’s voice echoed through the comms.
“Affirmative” Steve and Bucky muttered at the same time.
“Uh, Y/N?” Sam asked, a tiny bit of worry seeping into his voice.
“Pussies.” Was all you had to say.
Nat started cackling as she deployed her chute. “Yeah, I don’t think Y/N has ever deployed her chute above 1000 ft.”
“What?!” Sam cried right after deploying his own chute, Steve and Bucky both started cursing under their breath, a steady stream of obscenities filling dead air.
“Yeah, she might’ve stuck to the plan if two overbearing idiots hadn’t gotten her hackles up.”
“Y/N, you’re at 1500 now, deploy your damn chute!” Sam yelled into the comms.
All you gave them was a snort, then they all sighed in relief as they saw the white plume of your chute open well below them.
Bucky and Nat were both laughing then, and even Sam let out a relieved chuckle, but not Steve. He was seething with rage at your recklessness.
“Wanda and Vis have touched down. Just waiting on you slowpokes.” You teased as the four of them sank closer towards the city.
They all touched down in a few minutes, finding you sitting on a wall with a cocky grin on your face as Wanda and Vision chatted idly beside you.
“You gave the boys here quite the scare, sweetie.” Nat scolded with a smirk as she gathered the billowing fabric from her chute and shoved it back into her pack.
You hopped down from your perch with a laugh, tossing your pack aside as you inspected your guns, making sure they hadn’t sustained any damage during your descent. The rest of the team gathered their chutes quickly and tossed their packs on the pile, checking their weapons as you all started to walk towards the warehouse.
You ignored Steve’s murderous glare as Bucky slid beside you, giving you a conspiratorial grin as you waited for Sam to get his drones in place.
“Jesus Christ, Rogers.” Nat murmured beside Steve as he continued to glare at you. “You gotta lighten up.”
“Ok, looks like we’re a little outnumbered.” Sam muttered. “But just 12 to 7. We’ve faced worse. Ok Wanda and Vis, you’re first. Give us some good cover.”
They nodded before Vis blew the door, sending it flying into the warehouse as the two of them moved in sync, using their powers to set up a shield as the rest of you filed in after them.
Things were going pretty well, everyone sticking to their assigned roles as you moved forward, laying down cover fire. You’d made some good progress when a new player entered from the back of the warehouse and the only warning you had was Sam screaming “Rocket launcher!”
You heard everyone swearing over the comms as they dove for cover.
“Got it!” You yelled, rushing forward and launching yourself off an abandoned crate, catching the projected missile in midair and hefting it back towards your assailants as you kept moving forward.
“Jesus, Y/N!” Sam screamed after a massive explosion shook the entire warehouse, straightening up a bit to peek around the column he was hiding behind. “Oh shit, she really does got it.”
You had your arms wrapped around one goon’s neck as you launched your feet off the ground and knocked out two additional assailants with a split kick. You flung the man you had in a hold with a shrug, making him scream until he crashed into the wall with a sickening thud.
“Some help would be great!” You screamed as you continued moving further into the warehouse.
“Fuck, right.” Sam hissed as the team moved to follow you, Wanda and Vis at the front.
You all managed to subdue the goon squad within a few minutes. Most of the arsenal had been destroyed when you threw the missile back at it, and you worked quickly with Nat to disarm the rest of the weapons.
You were all moving back to the jet within an hour, hauling what you could of the weapons cache with you with you. Steve was still watching you with a venomous glare that you were pointedly ignoring as you chatted with Nat and Sam, who was insistent on rehashing every aspect of the altercation with unbridled enthusiasm.
“You gotta relax Rogers.” Bucky murmured to him as you all loaded onto the jet.
“She could’ve been seriously hurt Bucky.” He seethed, watching you hop on top of a crate of explosives with an easy grace. “Or killed.”
“Okay. Don’t think this is gonna end well for you though.” He said, moving to strap himself in for takeoff as Steve moved to confront you.
He wrapped his hand around your bicep and pulled you away from Nat and Sam with a low growl.
“What is your fucking problem?” You hissed at him as he slammed you into your seat and buckled you in like a small child.
“You’re my problem sweetheart. Do you have a death wish?” He was seething viciously at you as the rest of the team tried their best to act like they couldn’t feel the unbelievable tension that filled the air in the cabin.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him as he strapped himself in. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. I think I know my limits better than you.”
“You haven’t been in the field in over 5 years, princess, things change.”
“Oho, call me princess again asshole.” You snarled at him, lips curling over your teeth in a sneer.
“Look,” he growled, jabbing a finger at you that you immediately slapped aside, “You wanna get yourself killed, that’s one thing. But you endangered the rest of the team.”
“Really? Did any of you feel like you were in any extra danger?” You asked, turning to your teammates across from you who were doing their best to avoid eye contact.
“I dunno, the guys shooting at us do tend to make me feel a little unsafe.” Nat said as she picked at her nails with a knife, the rest of the team stammering around her.
“Oh, shut up Romanoff!” Steve growled at her before turning back to you. “You need some fucking discipline!”
“Oh, what?! Are you gonna spank me, Captain?” You jeered at him. “Put me over your knee when we get back so I’ll be a good little girl?”
“Um, guys...” Sam said, starting to look a little uncomfortable.
“I oughta do it.” He grumbled from deep in his chest. “Teach you a lesson.”
“I’d love to see you try, bastard. You gonna get the Sergeant here to help you? Cuz otherwise I’m gonna rip you a new asshole.” The two of you were breathing heavily as you stared each other down with lust blown pupils.
“Hey, I’m just happy to be included.” Buck said with a grin as he watched the two of you glare at each other.
“Jesus Christ, there’s something wrong with you three.” Sam said as the jet landed, unbuckling and practically sprinting off as you and Steve continued to growl at each other. “C’mon Romanoff.”
Nat just shook her head at you three before sauntering off the jet with one final lingering look.
As soon as you were alone, Steve pounced on you, wrapping his hands around your neck as he shoved his tongue down your throat. You gave him a throaty chuckle before placing a hand on his chest and shoving him off you hard enough that he flew across the cabin, causing the jet to wobble when he landed.
You shot a grin at him before crawling into Bucky’s lap and smashing your mouth against his.
“Hey baby.” He grinned against your lips. “Thought you forgot about me.”
“Mmm, never.” You murmured as you worked on getting his jacket off. “Fuck, who needs this many straps?”
He threw his head back and laughed as you pulled out a knife to slice through the fastenings you were fighting with before sucking a bruise against his collarbone. “You gonna join us Steve?”
The giant blonde stood up with a grumble and dusted himself off before starting to stalk towards you.
“No.” You told him firmly over your shoulder as you unzipped the top of your stealth suit and shoved Bucky’s face between your tits. “The Captain is so worried I can’t take care of myself, so he gets to watch me... take care of myself. Buck, take care of this fucking suit for me, would you baby?”
Steve watched as Bucky gripped the middle of your suit in his vibranium fist and shredded it, the tatters falling away over your thighs until you were sitting there in only your panties. Buck kept moving his mouth over your breasts as you started to grind yourself into his thigh.
He felt his cock straining against the front of his suit as he watched your hips rocking over Bucky’s thigh, the muscles in your own legs and abdomen tensing as you drove yourself against him with a soft moan. You kept your eyes locked on his as you drew Buck’s cock out of his tactical pants.
“Ah, fuck, Y/N!” Bucky cried as you spat in your palm before wrapping your hand around him, pumping his dick in long smooth strokes. He hissed and leaned his head back against the wall as you swirled your thumb through the precum collecting at his tip as you continued working him over.
“Look at that, I can take care of our boy, too.” You teased Steve as you felt a jolt of pleasure surge through you as Bucky’s thigh flexed underneath you. “Shit, baby, I’m so fucking close.”
You felt Buck twitch in your hand as your pussy clenched over his thigh, arousal soaking through your panties and making a small wet stain on his pants. He bent forward and buried his face in your neck, winking at Steve before running his teeth over your pulse point.
Your hips picked up their pace, rolling and pressing your clit into Bucky’s leg, keeping your eye contact with Steve as Buck sucked small bruises on your throat. One final drive of your hips and you were gone, your cunt fluttering over Bucky’s thigh as your release seeped out of you. He was right behind you, groaning against the hinge of your jaw as his cum shot all over your fingers.
Steve was painfully hard as he watched the two of you come down. Buck leaned back against the wall, panting as you sucked his release off your fingers, your eyes still boring into Steve’s. You bent to give Buck a quick peck as he grinned at you, then turned back to Steve, crooking one finger to get him to come to you.
He gave a feral growl and took three steps forward, wrapping one massive palm around the back of your neck and drawing you to your feet. He gripped your hair harshly and drew your head back with a painful yank as his other hand ran over your throat, giving a soft squeeze before he moved it down to cup your breast.
“You’re such a bad girl.” He growled as he scraped his teeth over your jaw, his hand still trailing down your torso. “What am I gonna do with you?”
You yelped in his ear as he spanked your pussy before tearing your panties off with a twist of his wrist. He sank his teeth into your shoulder to hold you in place while he wrenched his own suit off. As soon as he had tossed it aside, you jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing him deeply.
He hissed into you mouth when you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip, smacking his hand against your ass hard in response and making you moan.
“I don’t take orders from you, Captain.” You murmured, rolling your body against his as his cock throbbed between the two of you.
“You would if you knew what was good for you.” He muttered before lifting you up just enough so he can drop you back onto him in one quick motion, sheathing himself fully in you.
You moaned against his neck as he started fucking up into you at a harsh pace, his pubic bone rubbing right against your clit with each thrust and driving you crazy. His fingers were drawing harsh bruises against your hips and shoulders as he scraped his beard over your neck, nipping at your throat.
“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.” He murmured against your neck as you let out a whine and your cunt clamped down on him. “That’s right, princess, cum all over my cock.”
You hissed and drew your nails down his chest in deep gauges as your pussy fluttered around him, your body seizing as you creamed all over his dick and it seeped down his thighs in a thick mess.
“I told you not to call me princess.” You spat in his ear as he groaned at the mixture of pleasure and pain.
He brought up one hand to grip your jaw and bring your mouth back to his, shoving his tongue down your throat to steal the breath from your lungs before calling for Barnes over your shoulder. “You ready yet Buck? I wanna shove something in this pretty mouth of hers to shut her up.”
Bucky stood up with a shake of his head, stepping out of his boots and pants before stepping behind you and pressing his lips to the hollow behind your ear as his vibranium hand came to rest at your waist.
“Hey gorgeous.” He whispered in your ear, cupping your cheek with his free hand and turning you to face him.
“Hey baby.” You said around a lazy grin as he brushed his lips against yours, just teasing with a flick of his tongue before pulling back.
Steve snorted and rolled his eyes at the two of you as he pulled you down to him tightly, grinding his hips into you and making you gasp into Bucky’s mouth. You gave him a soft slap on the cheek before winking at Buck and bending backwards, keeping your legs wrapped tightly around Steve as you arched your back until your face was level with Bucky’s dick. He sucked in a harsh breath when you wrapped your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking him deeper.
“Fuck, honey, I always forget how good you are at this.” Buck muttered as you hollowed your cheeks around him, cupping your cheek and looking at you lovingly.
“Shit, she’s squeezing me so hard, Barnes, I don’t think I’m gonna last long.” Steve said through gritted teeth as his hips started to stutter. “She just loves sucking your cock.”
You hummed agreement around Bucky as Steve brought his thumb down to strum at your clit. Your legs clamped around Steve and your back arched violently as your climax hit you. You quivered between the two of them as you fluttered around Steve’s cock. He came right behind you with a shout, thrusting his cum into you with a series of irregular jerks of his hips.
“You still good, doll?” Bucky asked as he watched you untangle yourself from Steve. He was thrusting into your throat now as you brought your toes down to rest against the floor and maintain your balance. You gave him a thumbs up as you swallowed around him, making him moan.
“I’m gonna clean up this pussy, sweetheart, and then you’re gonna let me fuck that ass.” Steve murmured around a wolfish grin as he sank to his knees, tossing your thighs over his shoulder before buried his face in your cunt.
“Fuck!” Bucky hissed as you let out a whine from deep in your chest. He gave one last thrust of his hips and shot his cum down your throat. He pulled out of your when he was finished, pressing his chest to your back as he held you up, murmuring soft praises against your hair as Steve ate you out.
Steve looked up at you through his lashes as he sucked your lips into his mouth, grinning as you arched into him, leaning your head back against Buck’s shoulder with a soft whimper. He lapped up the mixture of your releases greedily before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.
You writhed against his face desperately as Bucky held you up, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear before moving over your neck and shoulders. He brought his hands up to play with your nipples at the same time Steve pressed two fingers into you and you lost it. Your thighs tried to suffocate Steve as your body went rigid for just a few seconds, then practically vibrated between the two of them as your release soaked Steve’s beard.
You went limp against Bucky as Steve straightened up, your head rolling loosely on his shoulder as you swallowed thickly. You were completely fucked out as the two of them stared at you, Steve cupping your cheek as Bucky nuzzled into your hair.
“You got one more in you, princess?” Steve teased before pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth as Bucky mouthed along the arch of your neck.
“Fuck you, Captain.” You said with a sloppy grin as he chuckled darkly against your cheek.
“I’d say that’s a yes, Stevie.” Buck said as his hands moved to your waist and he started to turn you around. “You still want her ass?”
Steve gave you a harsh spank once Bucky had turned you completely, making you gasp against Bucky’s neck. “I always want this ass, Buck. Besides, I’ve already felt that sweet cunt choking my cock. Figure I should let you have a turn.”
“Asshole.” You and Bucky murmured at the same time, as Steve chuckled against your shoulder.
He dragged his cock through your juices, lubing himself up before pressing the tip of his cock to your puckered hole. Bucky swallowed your cry as Steve speared into you, piercing through the tight ring of muscle with a quick thrust that had you mewling.
“Goddamn, that’s tight.” He hissed into your hair as your body tried to draw him in even deeper. He was fully bottomed out and had to still his hips to keep from cumming immediately. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“You ready for me, gorgeous?” Bucky murmured as he rested his forehead against your, his hand dipping between your legs to line himself up.
“Yes, god Buck, I wanna feel that cock inside me.” You whined as you gripped his flesh bicep with one hand, your other hand reaching beside you to hold onto Steve’s forearm.
He pressed his lips to yours as he pushed into you. You whined against him as he fully seated himself in you, relishing in the unbelievably full feeling that always accompanied having both men inside you.
“I’m gonna start moving, I wanna feel this asshole strangle my cock.” Steve growled in your ear before snapping his hips forward and digging his fingers into your hips.
Buck shot him a scowl over your shoulder before his own hips started moving, and you went boneless. Every time they were both inside you was like a little out of body experience. Their complementary rhythms making your brain short-circuit.
“God honey, you feel so good.” Bucky said with a whisper, his fingertips brushing through your hair as he kept his eyes on yours, watching your lids droop with pleasure. “So soft and warm. Isn’t she amazing, Stevie?”
“So fucking perfect.” Steve whispered against your neck, He always softened up once you were in this state.
They kept thrusting you higher and higher towards your peak. Your breath was coming in shallow gasps and your back arching beautifully as your fingers dug painfully into their respective arms. Suddenly you went completely rigid and let out a scream before melting into a quivering mess. Steve caught you before you collapsed and the two of them fucked you through it, their thrusts picking up speed as they chased their own ends.
Steve came first, digging his teeth into your shoulder with a hiss as his cock twitched in your tightest canal, your body instinctively milking his cock as he ran brushed his lips over the bitemark in a soothing manner. Bucky was right behind him, tossing his head back and screwing his eyes closed with deep growl as his cum painted your walls in a thick, sticky mess.
The two super soldiers held you pressed tightly between them. All three of you breathing heavily as you came down from your highs. Bucky’s eyes hadn’t left yours the whole time, and they were crinkled with a smile now as he gazed at you. You returned his grin before giving him a deep kiss, your tongue tracing his lips slowly.
“You’re so good to us baby.” Buck cooed after you released him to give Steve a kiss of his own, his mouth more urgent as he sucked your lip between his teeth with a moan.
“You’re amazing, gorgeous.” Steve said with a wicked grin. “And you’re a goddamn handful. We’ll see if we can fuck some discipline into you.”
You snorted at him as you started to untangle yourself from the two of them, Bucky just shaking his head at Steve. “Un-fucking-likely, Captain.”
He growled at you when you called him that, working on stepping back into his stealth suit. “You need to be careful calling me, Captain, princess.”
Bucky rolled his eyes at Steve and handed you his leather jacket to cover up when he remembered he had shredded your suit. You gave him a grateful peck on the lips as you wrapped it around yourself, glaring at Steve.
“You can call me Sergeant Barnes whenever you want, beautiful.” He told you with a wink, making you give a light laugh that always made his chest ache.
“Alright, you two, let’s go apologize to our poor teammates, again.” You said with a sigh. “Maybe we should get our own jet. I feel like post-mission sex is gonna be a staple for us.”
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For drop a line: "Is that my hoodie?"
Title: If you want it, come get it
Summary: You're proud hoodie thief. Your boys have had enough, they just want one damn it.
Pairing: Steve x Reader x Bucky
Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI
If they didn’t want you to steal their clothes, they shouldn’t smell so good. And it’s not your fault that their hoodies are so damn soft.
“Mama said there would be days like this,” you sing, dancing around the living room, using the duster as a microphone. Sliding across the hardwood floors in your socks. You pull a cupcake out of the hoodie, taking a bite before pushing it back in the pocket.
Its a Saturday afternoon and you’re kinda cleaning, more having your own personal concert in the living room, close enough. You’re in the middle of your favorite song, when the music is cut off. Startled from your daydream, you look up from the couch to see your super soldiers standing over you.
You scramble to your feet, flinging yourself at Steve, “You’re home,” you squeal. Bucky puts his arms around you, sandwiching you in between their bodies. You stay like that for a few minutes, sharing i love you’s kisses and hugs.
When Steve sets you down, you inspect them. Their hair is damp so you know they must have changed at the compound, Steve is wearing his tight white tshirt and black sweatpants, Bucky in your favorite blue Henley and jeans. You check each one carefully for any injuries, happy that they’re back safe and intact.
Then Steve decides to ruin the moment, “Is that my hoodie?”
You sigh heavily through your nose. Not this again. You tilt your head, staring him down, “no its not your hoodie, its mine”.
When they groan in unison, you push up your sleeves ready for this argument once again. They can share everything including you but let you take one, one damn hoodie (and some other clothes) and suddenly its an issue.
“Steve you wear toddler clothes and Bucky you-” you purse your lips, “you decided to get all beefy on me and can’t even fit in half of them”.
Steve splutters, his teeny tiny shirt bulging around his biceps as he tries to look menacing. You slide a finger under the shirt, giving him a pointed look when your finger gets stuck.
Bucky looks at his arms, “I didn’t get that big” he mumbles.
You yank your finger free turning to the pouting super soldier, “If you were any bigger you could take the Hulk’s position,” you laugh.
You pull the soft hoodie over your face, inhaling the faint scent of mint and pine. This one belongs to Bucky. You can never choose which one’s your favorite, Steve has a hint of vanilla and evergreen on his clothes that drives you insane.
“These are my hoodies now, you and them belong to me”, you emphasize with a wave of the sleeve.
“I want at least one back,” Steve sighs.
You laugh into the sleeve, “No,” When he opens his mouth again, you flick in him in the nose with the string. “I. Said. No. Steven.”
Bucky glares at you, his blue eyes flashing. You pat his butt, nudging past him with your hip.
“You’re not going to do anything about it,” you toss over your shoulder, looking through the fridge for that cake you hid earlier, “so shut up and go put your uniforms in the washer”.
Bucky and Steve exchange knowing glances, they silently back out of the room. By the time you find get your cake and a glass of milk, you no longer hear your boyfriends.
When you step out into the hall you’re ambushed, Steve snatches your plate and cup, Bucky tosses you over his shoulder. He ignores your screeching, bounding up the stairs to your shared bedroom.
He tosses you on the bed, watching you bounce twice before settling on the duvet. “What the hell, Bucky--”, you cry, “-my cake,”. Steve saunters in the room, swiping his finger through the frosting, waving it at you before plopping it in his mouth.
“You- son of- mother-,” you stammer indignantly. That was your cake. “How dare you,” you hiss, moving to your knees.
Steve’s eyes narrow playfully at you before moving past your shoulder, “Hey Buck, show her whos in charge in here”.
Before you can respond, you’re flat on your back being pulled down the bed until your legs dangle off the side. Bucky reaches up and pulls your panties down over your flailing legs.
Steve leans against the wall, setting your glass on the dresser, he picks up the fork, pointing it at you. “Leave the hoodie on since she loves them so much”.
Bucky laughs, “good thinking pal,”
Bucky grabs your hands with his vibranium one, spreading your folds with his warm fingers, “Look at this Steve, our doll likes being tossed around,” he holds up a glistening finger.
Steve walks over, putting his mouth around Bucky’s finger, sucking it with a low groan, “better than the cake huh?”
Steve licks his lips, “way better, but I’m still eating this while you eat here”, he takes another bite of your cake, chewing slowly.
You try to wiggle off the bed but when you date two supersoldier, you can’t get away unless they want you to and right now one of them wants you on the bed.”Give me my cake Ste-oh god”, you scream ends a choked moan when Bucky latches on to your clit taking you by surprise, “shit
He lets go, flattening his hot tongue moving up and down your folds, alternating with deep slow kisses that pull your bud into his mouth. Steve watches you come apart on the bed, your back in a high arch as Bucky tightens the coil in you. While he wishes he could see your pretty tits, you have to learn a lesson here. The chocolate melts on his tongue mingling with your sweet taste.
Soon you’re screaming Bucky’s name, your body wracked with pleasure, furiously grinding on his face as you ride your high. When your orgasm fades, Bucky glances up at you with a smile, his face shiny with your slick.
“And its my turn,”
You turn your head, seeing Steve give your plate to Bucky. He walks over and kneels in front of you. You try to catch your breath, shaking your head at a grinning Steve, the fiendish look in his eyes making your heart drop. He flips you over, his hands parting your thighs.
Putting your weight on your elbows, you lift your head. He slides his cock between your folds, teasing your entrance, “you don’t run things here sweetheart,” he quips before pounding into you so ferociously you cant speak, only moan and grunt as he wrecks your body.
It continues, them trading off to have their turns with you, when one is in you, the other is grabbing snacks. Soon you’re dripping in sweat, burning up from that damn hoodie but they won't let you take it off. The once green material looks black from how soaked it is. Its heavy on your skin, you can’t take it anymore.
When Steve tags in Bucky for the sixth round, you give in, “please I’m sorry, you can have them back,” you beg, “let me take it off,” reaching out to Steve with tears in your eyes.
They exchange grins, Bucky slowing his pace, letting his cock rest in you. They coo over you, “Aw doll, we got you sweetheart”, its all jumble above you.
Steve yanking the hoodie off you, it falls to the floor with a wet plop. You sigh, relieved ,shivering when the air hits your sweaty skin, Steve runs his hands over your chest warming up his skillful fingers, Bucky resumes his pace until he’s slamming into you. The bed rocking from the force of it, Steve’s soft lips slanting over yours.
As you start to edge to another explosive orgasm, you vow to get revenge for your hoodie and your cake.
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After the Show
Pairing: Bucky x reader (Rockstar!Bucky AU)
Word Count: 2,170
Summary: You want Buck off stage, on stage and everywhere in between.
Author’s Note: This is born soley of my thirst for Bucky and the super fun Rockstar AU, the recent pics Seb posted definitely helped and my talks with the girls are always inspiring. Thank you @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @pepsicup @awesomerextyphoon and @eurynome827 I have zero love for Tommy Lee and this has nothing to do with him. This is also for @goaskbarnes 500 follower AU Challenge and the Rockstar AU. Congratulations Hailie! Sending you lots of love! Thank you all so very much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ My jobean divider is by the lovely @imerdwarf and the music note divider is by the lovely @skylightlantern thank you loves! PS the lyrics in italics are from Led Zeppelins song ‘Thank you,’ listen here! :)
Warnings: soft sweet fluff followed by smut (thigh riding, light dirty talk, flirting, teasing, semi-public sex) 18 + ONLY PLEASE!!!
This first gif is meant to show Bucky’s look when you first met him and the second pic is an AMAZING edit by my beautiful friend @nix-akimbo and is meant to be Bucky present day. THANK YOU SO MUCH ❤🥰😍
“I know that song,” you say softly, adjusting your body amongst the pillows.
Bucky looks up from his guitar and smiles. The moonlight casts a soft glow across the bed, enough that you can see the blue of his eyes as he gazes at you while strumming his acoustic.
“I remember that night like it was yesterday,” he says, closing his eyes and continuing to play.
“Me too Bucky. I’ll never forget the first time I heard you play,” you sigh. “I loved that little coffee shop. They had the best muffins. I always went there just for the lemon poppy seed. But nothing compared to finding you and after we met I kept coming back for a totally different reason.”
His eyes open and he plucks a few strings before setting the guitar gently on the floor. He crawls over to you and slips under the sheet, pulling you into him. Your fingers lightly trace the outline of one of the tattoos on his chest and when they meet the chain of his dog tags you drag him down for a kiss.
“Remember when this was the only tattoo you had?” you ask him with smile.
He nods and says, “it used to be my favorite. But not anymore.”
Your hand moves up to his bicep and your fingers ghost over your name outlined in dark ink.
“This is my favorite too,” you giggle.
“And your hair used to be so much shorter,” you whisper, gently brushing a long strand that falls in front of his face.
His nose brushes along yours and he hums in agreement, kissing you softly. Your hand combs through his hair and settles at the back of his neck so you can deepen the kiss. When you pull away you’re breathless.
“Will you play for me more?” you ask in between kisses. “I love when you play your acoustic.”
“Of course, baby girl but I’m gonna play you first,” he whispers, dancing his fingers down to your hip and pulling you under him.
Bucky shuts the doors to the truck and takes you in his arms.
“I’ll see you at the show baby doll,” he murmurs into your hair.
You rest your cheek against the bare skin that peeks out from his open shirt, fingering his dog tags that hang there. The sun is just starting to set behind him and the pink and orange glow shines off the metal pieces. Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear you trace your fingers along his jaw and lean up to kiss him.
“See you at the show baby,” you say and blow him another kiss once he’s in the truck.
You take your time getting ready for the show since you don’t have to worry about lines or the crowd. You decide to surprise him and wear the same outfit you wore the first time you saw him play live with the band. You’ll never forget the way he looked at you from the stage. Just thinking about it makes you tremble with want.
When you walk to the door you greet Tony with a smile and flash your pass even though you don’t have to. He escorts you inside and waves you off as you head to the back. The band has played this venue a few times before so you know your way around.
The green room is at the far back and you can hear his guitar as you head down the hallway. You lightly knock on the door and open it when you hear him say “come in baby girl.”
You smile to yourself and your eyes find him immediately, seated on the couch, legs spread wide and his guitar now resting against the edge. The leather pants he wears pull snugly across his thick thighs and you bite your bottom lip.
You stand in the doorway and admire him but it’s his heated gaze that rakes over your skin and causes you to squeeze your legs together.
“You look fucking incredible,” he says, patting his thigh. “Come here baby doll.”
You saunter over and sit, resting your hands on his chest. “I wasn’t sure if you would remember,” you say demurely.
His hands settle at your waist and he pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling him.
“You know it’s etched onto my brain like one of my tattoos,” he tells you, grazing his fingers under your skirt. “Just like every inch of your skin.”
You lean into his touch, letting your head fall to the side as his cool metal fingers inch higher.
“Bucky,” you whimper. “The show starts in a few minutes.”
He grips your thigh, brushing his thumb over your already soaking underwear before crushing his lips to yours. Your fingers grip his silken locks and you roll your hips, unable to stop yourself. A knock at the door pulls you apart and Bucky’s face falls to your neck, his loud groan not going unnoticed by Steve on the other side of the door.
“Show time Barnes. Let’s go,” Steve shouts.
His eyes meet yours and they are dark with want.
“I love you,” he whispers, kissing you one more time before promising, “and I’ll see you after the show.”
He helps you off his lap and grabs his guitar, throwing you a smirk before heading toward the rest of the band. You follow behind and say hi to Steve, Nat, Wanda and Sam. Wanda gives you a knowing once over before winking while Steve and Nat sneak in a kiss and Sam flips his drumsticks.
You shout, “break a leg,” and then make your way to the floor in front of the stage, wading through the crowds of already screaming fans. Throngs of girls are struggling to get as close as possible and you know why. Thankfully, you know Bucky only has eyes for you and the moment the lights go down, adrenaline shoots through your veins and you join in with the screams.
The first note Bucky hits sets the crowd into renewed cheers, the sound nearly drowning out the soft sound. The lights come on and his eyes instantly search for you. He finds you quickly, winking before bringing his lips up to the microphone.
You’ll never get tired of watching him on stage, his strong legs spread wide, his ocean blue guitar resting between them and those fingers, the way they move over the strings, strumming and picking to create the most amazing sound. The stage lights shine off his metal arm, creating a stunning effect of colors as he moves with the music and his tattoos shift with the muscles in his arm and chest.
You know this song well and when his solo starts he locks his gaze on you, singing the words and playing the melody with such ease it takes your breath away.
“My love is strong, there is no wrong. Together we shall go until we die, my, my, my, inspiration's what you are to me.”
He wrote this song not long after you met, the lyrics like a song written on his heart. You sway with the rhythm, never looking away and when he gets to the chorus you sing along out loud.
“If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you. Mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.”
Everyone erupts into loud cheers when the song finishes and Bucky smiles, working the crowd for a minute before launching into the next song. You dance until your feet are aching and scream until your throat is sore.
The band exits for the intermission and you rush backstage. Bucky is waiting in the hallway and you throw yourself into his arms. He’s sweaty and smirking and you can feel his heart beating in his chest.
He pulls you into the bathroom, shutting the door and pushing you against it as his whole-body lines up with yours. He leans down to kiss you but you stop his mouth with a finger to his lips, reaching into your bra to pull out a small ball of lacey fabric.
He takes it from your hand and rubs it between his fingers, stuffing it into his front pants pocket before his lips devour you. There is nothing but desperation in his kiss and as his lips trail down your neck and he sucks on your pulse point your legs nearly give out.
Your hands are everywhere at once, wanting to touch every inch of him and when he pushes his thigh between your legs you tug hard on his hair, moaning at the friction.
“Bucky!” you cry out, grinding down to harder to find your release. His muscles flex beneath you and he grabs your hips, rocking you back and forth until you fall apart for him. You barely have time to catch your breath before they are calling him back out.
“I’m not done with you yet, not even close,” he growls out, his mouth swallowing any chance of your reply before leaving the bathroom.
You lean against the door, breathing hard and try to fix your skirt with shaky hands. You’re able to make it onto the floor just as the band comes back out on stage. You can see the red lace of your underwear peaking out from Bucky’s pocket and it sends a new wave of heat through you.
By the time the show is over you can’t get to him fast enough, the events of the night catching up and leaving you filled with need. You make your way down the hallway, doing your best to say a brief hello to everyone you pass but only needing to find Bucky.
You’re headed for the back when a strong arm reaches out and pulls you into the equipment room. You don’t even get a chance to greet him before his mouth is on yours, the force of the kiss knocking you into the wall as his hand slides behind your neck.
At the taste of him, you moan, unable to help yourself and your hands rove over his hard chest, desperate for any skin. They rake through his hair, the strands silky as they slip through your fingers and you pull him closer.
His hips grind into you and you arch your back off the wall, baring your neck to him. He drags his mouth from yours and traces a line up the column of your neck, reaching the spot just below your ear that makes you whimper.
“Did you enjoy the show baby girl?” he asks dangerously, burying his face against your neck to scrape his teeth over your pulse point.
You can’t form a proper response and Bucky growls low, kissing you again. You have to feel his skin, have to feel the hardness pressing against you with your hands, your mouth, your body. You wedge your hand between your bodies and Bucky groans as you cup him through his leather pants.
His kiss turns deeper and more insistent as you wrestle with the buckles on his pants. Bucky’s hands caress your skin, slowly hiking up your skirt as he nips your bottom lip, your ear, your neck. The blood roars in your ears and you finally manage to get his pants down to his ankles.
He lifts your leg and wraps it around his waist, rubbing himself through your soaking folds, teasing you with every inch of him.
“The whole fucking show all I could think about was burying myself inside you,” he simpers before pushing into you slowly.
His lips graze yours, slowly taunting until he fills you completely. At the feel of you wrapped tightly around him he loses all control and pulls all the way out before slamming back in hard enough to shake the doorframe.
You grip his ass, the muscles taunt beneath your fingertips and push him deeper. He lifts your leg high, keeping his pace steady as he thrusts his hips hard, his grip on your waist bruising. You burn with pleasure, so full of him that his shoulders are the only things keeping you standing.
Looking between your bodies you see him disappear inside you, so thick and long and slick with your wetness that you tighten around him, your release already building. Bucky groans, arching into the feeling.
“Fuck,” he pants, repeating the word over and over as he feels you squeezing him.
His metal hand drifts between your legs, the touch sending you over the edge. Bucky’s movements become erratic as he spills into you, his hips stilling only after his release drips down your thigh.
You stay locked together, his weight pushing you into the door as you both catch your breath. Bucky finally releases your leg, gently placing it on the floor and wrapping his arms around you, brushing his lips to yours.
Your fingertips slide down his sweat slicked chest and wrap around his dog tags, tugging him closer. “I still need more.”
@addikted-2-dopamine @book-dragon-13 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @loricameback @lorilane33 @lookiamtrying @la-cey @lizette50 @loveitorleaveit20 @marvelgirl7 @moonlacebeam @moonlitskinandcrimsonribbons @mardema @meetmeatyourworst @nano--raptor @pinkdiamond1016 @randomfandompenguin @white-wolf1940 @missstef23 @nahthanks @ironmansuucks @starlightcrystalline @saiyanprincessswanie
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Pairing: Steve x Reader
Summary: You have the powers to resurrect if you’ve been murdered, and a jealous Steve Rogers indulges heavily in your abilities. He would not let you steal his best friend, that was for sure. So what, if your rivalry regularly caused fire and harm to public property? You just couldn’t let the other win.
Warnings: Smut, enemies to lovers, violence, killings and murders (but reader cannot die, it’s weird. She has some sorta powers that help her revive when she’s been murdered), language, 18+ ONLY
A/N: Is this crack fic? Idk. Maybe?
The sixth time Steve killed you, you decided he needed to be dealt with in a similar way. It doesn’t matter that he cannot come back from the dead like you. He just needed to go. You were tired of him offing you every time he felt threatened by your existence. But this was the last straw. He had pushed you off the Quinjet while flying home from a mission and you’d fallen into the lake and drowned. You would NOT recommend dying that way.
Bucky had dragged out your dead body and watched over you as the blessing of the necromancer worked its magic over you and brought you back to the world of the living. The first words out of your mouth as you spewed out water were, “I am going to kill your best friend and you can’t be mad at me for that.”
Bucky, far too happy to have you back – poor guy still mourned every time you died – ignored your comment and pulled you into a hug. He’d never quiet gotten used to seeing you die. You patted his back, muttering a few there-there’s until he was calm enough to press quivering kisses on your head and temple.
“You need to stop dying.” He said into your hair, holding you close.
“I would not be dying if your best friend didn’t murder me every time! He is a menace, Buck!” You cried in exasperation. The said best friend was watching you from a few yards away, and he rolled his eyes as your words reached him. He scoffed loud enough for you to hear and you sharply turned your head to glare at him.
“You!” You shouted, quickly standing up and marching over to him. “You rascal!” And then you pried out your wet shoe from your feet and threw it at his stunned face. Unfortunately, it didn’t hit his face but smacked against his chest, leaving the wet print of your soles against his far too tight t-shirt. He gaped at you open mouthed before baring his teeth in warning.
“Oh god, every time you come alive again, you’re even more awful than before!” Steve shouted, and then just because he is fucking drama queen, he threw out his hands. You sneered before turning to look at Bucky meaningfully, the most obvious ‘see what a dick he is’ look on your face.
Bucky shuffled uneasily, caught between your quarrel once again. He came behind you and gave you his jacket to wear to shield you from the cold. And just like that, your anger melted a little. Somehow, with his steel blue eyes, Bucky Barnes could sooth every wound you’d ever had. Even those given to you by Steve Rogers.
“I am so sorry. I should have seen what he was about to do. I wouldn’t have ever let you fall had I known.” He apologized and you swore your heart physically quivered. You pulled Bucky into a hug, hiding your face in his chest, savoring his arms coming around you to hold you tighter. You could have stayed in his embrace forever, but it was an annoyed groan that ripped you both apart.
“Is there any way you can stay dead a little longer?” Steve asked, breaking your moment. “I mean, I’ve tired a bullet and knife and water and poison. What can I do that you’d be gone for just a little longer?”
He was worked up, a red flush creeping on his face and neck. Pacing, he was muttering, and you wondered for the millionth time how Bucky could be friends with him. He was just so extra! You wanted to tell him to shove a stick up his ass, along with the one already there when he turned swiftly like the wind and threw a dagger at you. A metal hand caught it before it could hit you and you were pulled into the warmth of Bucky’s body quickly.
“Steve! Cut it out.” Bucky yelled, glaring at Steve. “You will not kill her again. I don’t care if she can come back alive again. You won’t hurt her.”
With that, he dropped the dagger on the ground and walked away with you. Unable to resist, you looked over you shoulder and flipped Steve off. Fucker could kill you a hundred times and yet he would not be able to do anything. As far as you were concerned, Bucky was as much your best friend as his. And if Steve Rogers couldn’t control his jealousy without trying to behead you every time he felt you were stealing Bucky from him, you would just have to make his death look like an accident.
“I don’t think I need to tell you that you can’t kill him either?” Bucky said teasingly, his eyes soft and fond. “I need you both to survive.”
You groaned, bumping your shoulder in his and snuggling into him as a cold breeze hit your wet clothes. He could read you like an open book.
“You are no fun Barnes.”
There was rubble and fires and shrieks. Natasha was yelling in Russian as she ran about with a fire extinguisher and Clint crawled out of his vents to help Bruce out who was turning a dangerous shade of green. Tony was sitting in the ruins of his kitchen, his mouth half open as he spied on the ensuing battle in the middle of it.
Sam was using his shield to push Steve away who was shouting curses that had probably not been invented yet. Bucky was holding you back by your middle, yelling in your ear to calm the fuck down but all you could think of to do was smacking Steve’s face with that chair that was currently on fire. You suppose once everyone was calm, you’d feel guilty about your part in destroying the Avengers kitchen but right now that wasn’t important.
What was important was that Steve had tried to kill you. Again. He had actually thrown a fucking grenade at you. You barely had the time to kick it away where it exploded in the kitchen and then Steve was on you, calling you a bitch in all the 9 languages he knew.
“Calm the hell down, Steve!” Sam yelled, struggling to keep Steve at bay from you. You were glad to see that Steve’s nose was busted. That will teach the bastard to ‘look down his nose’ on you now.
“She pierced my ears! The fucking bitch pierced my goddamn ears!” Steve yelled. Even you had to admit, the golden hoops looked amazing dangling from his ears. Just perfect.
“You are lucky I didn’t stick a knitting needle in your eye Rogers!” You sassily replied, “The only reason you’re still in one piece is because I promised my best friend that I wouldn’t hurt you.”
The muscles in Steve’s arms tensed and Sam groaned, barely keeping his own footing. A dark shadow seemed to have crawled over Steve’s face, turning the blues of his eyes an angry shade and had you been a weaker person, you would have trembled. This was the face of someone who had stood against armies alone and came out victorious. But for all you cared, he could kiss your ass.
“He is MY best friend. Mine. Not yours, not anyone else’s. Bucky Barnes is mine and I will kill you a thousand times until it sinks in your thick skull!” Steve growled. You scowled, a scathy remark bubbling on the tip of your tongue when you suddenly stopped. Why say when you can show? So, looking Steve directly in the eyes, you went limp in Bucky’s arms, turned around and cupped his face. And then you kissed his cheek.
Steve let out a strangled cry behind you, but you focused on Bucky who was blinking in disbelief at your audacity. And so, just for the heck of it, you kissed his other cheek. And then his forehead.
“Bucky Barnes, you are my best friend and always will be!” You said, hugging the life out of him. You heard Steve break away from Sam, heard Bucky yell out a curse and holding you protectively as his jealous pal came rushing to claim him. And all through that and the chaos that ensued later, you just smiled broadly.
Tony was giving a lecture, and he sucked. He gesticulated too much for your liking, and you really didn’t like how he kept emphasizing things by looking pointedly at you. It wasn’t even that much of a big deal, and even if it was, it was not your fault. Like every other time, the only person who could be held responsible was the blond super soldier sitting beside you, wearing the same shade of annoyance on his face as yours.
“I repeat” said Tony, his hair askew, “we do not use Friday to settle idiotic, absolutely ridiculous personal vendettas!”
“You have Friday tell you how pretty you look every day!” You countered and Tony slammed his hand on the table.
“Because I am!” He huffed. “You, on the other hand, stopped a mission in the middle to ask Friday who had a higher score! I mean, what the actual fuck? And what score?”
Steve had the decency to look at least a little sheepish. You however didn’t put up with any of that nonsense. It was his idea anyway, and you wouldn’t take the fall for him. Not when Tony looked murderous like this.
“Rogers bet me he’d take down more enemies than me. We only asked Friday to keep a count. I had literally nothing to do with it.”
Tony turned the ire of his glare at Steve who was too busy giving you a dirty look. He was just pissed you won, and that Bucky had spent the entire ride back tending to your wounds rather than Steve’s. It wasn’t your fault his jealous ass always threw a fit whenever he saw you and Bucky together.
“You said the team could use Friday as we saw fit.” Steve said, though he did look a little guilty. It wasn’t like him to lose command and control. Even when he’d been Captain America, he had never let anything rattle him. Not until you had come prancing in his life and stealing his best friend.
“I said the team could use Friday, not stop everything in the middle of a high risk mission to see who has a bigger dick.” Tony said, and then he just collapsed in his chair. Poor guy had been working too hard to carry the team forward, and in that moment, even you felt guilty. Your rivalry with Steve shouldn’t have to affect everyone else, not when they had been so welcoming and loving to you ever since you joined.
You walked over to Tony and dropped a kiss on his head, caressing his hair. “I am sorry Tones. You won’t have more trouble from me.”
Tony looked at you as if seeing an angel. He looked at you as if you were the solution to all his troubles. Despite every furniture of his you’d broken and set fire to, he was so grateful to have one sane voice between them. Cupping your hands, he looked imploringly at you and asked, “Really? You’re gonna stop fighting with Steve?”
At that, you solemnly nodded and patted his hand gently. Poor him and the poor team going through hell because you and Steve couldn’t settle your differences. It was obvious what had to be done.
“Of course I will” You said magnanimously, because of course you were the better of the two. “Steve just needs to find another best friend and there won’t be any reason to fight anymore.”
If any of them had been drinking water, they would have spit it out. Since they didn’t, they just kind of choked on their saliva and sputtered at you in absolute disbelief. Tony actually looked betrayed and Steve seemed to have licked a lemon, if the look on his face was anything to go by.
“She” He said, voice thick with contempt, “needs to go away. We can launch her in outer space or somewhere from where she can never return. You know why? Because Bucky is my best friend. Since we were yay high!” And he raised his arms a foot off the ground to show just how high.
And just like that, the moment was gone. Rogers opened his mouth and any goodwill you had had went poof. So, you did the only reasonable thing any sane person would do right now and that was to flip him off and call him a pig. You knew he was inching to strangle you; you could see his fingers twitch. A part of you was anticipating it, for Bucky would never forgive him for killing you again. Just as he would have lunged at you, push Tony out of the way and did you away for good, Bucky burst into the room with the expression of a cantankerous 100 year old grandpa who had had enough with the world.
“For fucks sake! Just shut up you both!” He yelled and paced the room. His eyes were bloodshot and hair disheveled, a clear sign that your rivalry was taking a heavy toll on him. Steve opened his mouth to say something when Bucky raised a finger to shush him. “No no no! You listen to me you oblivious, utter moronic fucklets!”
Your mouth dropped open. Bucky never cursed at you. He had never called you a fucklet before.
“You two need to stop. You hear me? You need to STOP!” He raked a hand through his hair before kicking the ground in frustration. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep! I can’t fucking breathe without you both arguing over who is a better friend to me. So, here’s an idea. Instead of fucking me over in the middle of your sexual tension, why don’t you find a room and fuck each other? Because I tell you now, I cannot fucking take it!”
Silence sat pregnant in the room. You blinked at Bucky. Steve blinked at Bucky. Tony blinked at Bucky. And Bucky didn’t blink at all.
“That – uh – what?” You said, eloquent as ever. “That is so stupid.” And you laughed awkwardly.
Steve glanced at you and then stammered, “What? That – I haven’t – that has nothing to do with it. She and I – what?”
You both found each other’s eye, quickly looked away and just became silent. The tension in the air was suffocating you, and a terrible heat was settling in your stomach. Without another word, you walked out of the room, muttering about how ridiculous the whole idea was. The three men watched your exit, and a moment later, Steve left too, still very much in disbelief.
Tony and Bucky sighed, sitting across from each other and just taking in the fact that the elephant in the room had finally been address. A moment later, Tony began drumming on the desk, looking up at the ceiling.
“I couldn’t have put it any better myself.”
You felt antsy, as if staying one more moment in your room would drive you mad. You kept jerking your legs and arms, a weird restlessness in every action of yours. What the hell was Bucky saying? The sheer nerve to imply that you…you and Steve had some sort of feelings for each other. You hadn’t heard that kinda crap since you nursed your nephew who’d had diarrhea.
The only reason you and Steve fought was because you wanted Bucky. He was supposed to be your best friend, and clearly it was his inability to decide who he preferred more that had led you here. And to pretend, on top of that, that it was you who was at fault was just ridiculous. As if you’d touch Steve Rogers with a ten foot pole.
But…would you? You suppose he couldn’t be that bad to touch. He did have gorgeous eyes that got all dark and dilated when he fought with you. And his breath hitched when you got him mad and he bit his lip to stop from cursing you and he flushed a very becoming shade of red that started from his cheeks and disappeared down the neckline on his tight shirts that –
The realization rocked your world. What the hell? When you thought about it again, it seemed as if you’d just described Steve being aroused. Did you really fight him and got him mad to stimulate yourself? Oh god. Bucky was right. You wanted to fuck Steve.
This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. You quickly changed into your work out gear and rushed to the gym, intent on sweating out whatever feelings you might have for Steve. After all, nothing says fuck you like imagining someone’s face on a punching bag and just going to town on it. Thankfully, when you arrived the gym was empty.
You’d been working on your stretches for only a few minutes when your worst nightmare entered the gym. He probably had the same idea as you and froze the moment your eyes met. His blue eyes narrowed at you and you stood up straight. You hated Bucky for putting the thought in your head. Now all you could think of was tackling Steve to the ground and fucking him senseless. You still wanted to beat him, but in a very different way.
As Steve entered, his eyes fixed to your form, you decided it was time to leave. After that fiasco in front of Tony, you didn’t think yourself capable of talking to Steve. Staying alone with him was something you didn’t trust yourself with. So you picked up your bag and started for the door when his voice stopped you.
“Running away? Am I to believe that there is something that finally scares you?”
Anger, red hot anger simmered under your veins when you turned to face him again. He had a mocking smirk on his face that made you grit your teeth. His eyes, dark and challenging beckoned you to him, but they didn’t hold resentment there either. Something between you had changed today. The very air around you was different, thick with tension and apprehension that had your nerves tingling.
“Scared?” You scoffed, dropping your bag on the matted floor and walking until you stood right before him. He towered over you in height, but he’d never been able to actually look down at you. “Me, scared of you? You wish Rogers.”
One corner of his lips lifted up, and he put his hands on you. One hand hooked around your waist and pulled you closer, the other trailing a finger down the side of your face to your neck, following the path down your arm until his fingers intertwined with yours.
“Oh, I so do wish” He whispered and his lips met yours. You rose up on your toes, mashing your body against his and mapping the planes of his body with your palms. The smell of his sweat and soap surrounded you, your arms coming to hold him around the shoulders as he hitched you up so you could wrap your legs around him.
Like everything in your relationship, the kiss was explosive. You didn’t melt against each other like people do in books; you collided like two warring armies intent on conquering the other. You collided like night and day, basking your surroundings in the dawn and dusk of your lust. Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, smiling as you shamelessly moaned.
“What do you say?” He asked, pushing you against the wall, his hardness digging between the heated center of your legs.
You pulled him closer, letting your lips trail over his jaw and neck before you branded him with a quick bite. “You’ve always been so aggressive Steve, let’s see you let loose some other way. I sure do hope you fuck better than you fight though, or I’ll just be disappointed.”
Steve growled, kissing you again as he ground his cock against you, trapping you between the wall and his hard body that prevented any escape. Your hands slipped under his t-shirt, meeting the firm muscles on his abdomen that rippled under you. He pulled back just enough to allow you to remove your clothes, his own being flung sideways without any care.
Even before, you’d never thought of Steve as anything but beautiful, but now, seeing him in all his glory, you could only look him up and down in appreciation. He was trembling slightly, as if holding himself back with effort, his eyes not leaving you for a second. You both looked at each other, naked and unashamed before frantically coming together. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your ass and thighs as his lips pulled at your breast.
Your fingers rolled his nipples softly until he moaned, and then you pinched them. He jerked under your touch, kicking the back of your knees so you collapsed down, and he covered your body with his. Anger, arousal, lust and longing, all emotions built together in a storm of incoherent desire that had you both rolling over each other, fighting for dominance and power. Steve pinned you down with effort, holding your wrists in one hand over your head as he gave a smug smile to you.
“Will you finally surrender today?” He asked, positioning his cock at your entrance that was drenched. You would have loved to taste him, to have him taste you, but as of now, all you wanted was for him to slide inside you. You hungered for him, burnt for his touch. For years you’d been left wanting, and now with the prize so near, you weren’t about to wait any longer.
“The only surrender today will be yours.” You whispered sweetly before slamming your head against his. Steve jerked hard in surprise, allowing you the opportunity to free your hands and roll over him. You sat on his pelvis proudly, his throbbing member right underneath you and as he blinked at you, stunned, you rose up over his tip and slowly sunk down.
Steve groaned as your wet channel fell like velvet heat along his shaft. You had never been so full before. He stretched your limits, as he had always done, and you decided you very much preferred rendering him speechless like this under you than your usual punches and throws. His hands dug into your waist, helping you bounce on his cock and you threw your head back at the feeling.
It was a beautiful ache, one that took your breath away. As you rolled your hips and clenched down there, Steve’s voice rose in appreciation and you grinned. You finally had the golden boy at your mercy. You fucked him, changing your pace to punish him, never letting him up. For every time he killed you, you bit on his lips and neck, marking him. It was punishment and cherishing, a culmination of feelings you didn’t understand.
“Touch me.” You brokenly said, and his fingers found your nub. The slapping of skin, the sounds of debauchery and the smell of sin filled the air. You leaned over him to meet his lips, the heat in your gut bubbling until you snapped and came atop him, falling blissfully. It was one moment of weakness and the world titled, Steve having finally pushing you on your back.
“You’ve always been strong, because I’d hate to break you when the fun has only just begun.” He said and thrust into you hard and fast. He was an animal in heat, a man possessed, and you didn’t mind one bit. You met his every thrust with a raise of your hips, you clawed at his back until he bled, your lips tasting of the salt of sweat and tears and desire. He brought you impossibly closer, looking right into your eyes as he took you.
For the life of you, you couldn’t look away. You couldn’t get enough of his grunts and moans, of the breathy whispers of your name that slipped between curses, of the way his lashes would flutter over the dark blues that kept your eyes captive. He had you completely in that moment, mind and body; and for some reason, his gaze felt infinitely more intimate than his cock that was currently spearing you open. You keened in pleasure, whimpering as he touched your overly sensitive clit and had you coming again.
A minute later, he twitched inside you, his warmth flooding your core and you sighed. You laid entangled and sweaty, both of you spent and tired and yet completely overtaken by the urge to be closer still. To think this is what you’d both missed for all these years.
“So, what do you say, still feeling aggressive?” Steve asked and you looked at him with a grin that you couldn’t have suppressed had you wanted to. Oh yes, some battles were never meant to end, but they sure could be altered to meet new demands.
“With you? Always.” You replied, kissing him deep until he couldn’t think of anything but you. “Just remember one thing.”
“Oh yeah, what?”
“I am still a better best friend to Bucky. I did fuck you to keep him happy after all.”
Steve frowned darkly and before you could blink, he was over you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“I think this time I’d fuck some manners into you.”
“I think this time you should actually put your back into it. I did all the work before.” You taunted and he dived at you.
Meanwhile, in Tony Stark’s office
“Friday, what’s the score?” He asked smugly, offering Bucky the packet of blueberries. Bucky was sitting with his feet on the desk, a small smile on his face.
“I am afraid I am not at a liberty to say Boss.” Friday replied. If the AI could blush, she would.
“Seems like they are at an impasse.” Tony suggested, and Bucky shrugged, licking his lips.
“Well, some things never change.”
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Hero Date Night
Request from @make-me-imagine Buck and the reader are supposed to have their first date. But a semi truck explosion causes a huge crash so the reader has to save herself.
Warning - blood, injuries, curse words.
Tonight is my first official date with Buck. Sunset is lowering in the distance of the highway. Resting my hands on the steering wheel as I'm wearing a simple green dress with tenna shoes. My phone starts ringing so I put the caller on speaker. "Who is it?"
The voice of Buck comes through the phone. "You're hot firefighter date." I can hear the smirk in his voice watching a semi truck behind me that is riding too close.
"I'm on my last call for the evening. Then I'll meet you at the restaurant." He explained making me smile. Two cars are in front of me. I squint seeing the first car suddenly break. The car in front of me braked hard making me have to do the same. The semi that's riding my tail doesn't bark hard enough and slammed into the back of my car.
Glass shatters around me as I slam my head on the steering wheel. "Y/n. What happened!" Buck's voice rings in my ear and through the phone.
Lifting my head up my blurry vision catches sight of my right ankle twisted and blood coming from forehead. "B-Buck...911. Oh shit-shit!" Flames started coming from the gas from the semi truck behind me.
The smoke rises around me hearing Buck shouting to his team. "Don't worry we're on our way. Guys, let's go Y/n's in trouble!" The last thing I hear from the phone is the firetrucks siren. I start heavily coughing feeling air being sucked from my lungs I start to close my eyes.
'In my daily work you gotta push through whatever is in your way.' Buck had told me that the first time we met after he helped my friend who was allergic to shrimp and needed help. Opening my eyes I realized that's what I need to do now.
Reaching for my seatbelt I snap it with a pocket knife I got from my dad last year. The flames surround me making everything in front of me turn smokey grey and bright flames. Flipping the blade around in my hands I try stabbing my driver's side window but it doesn't work so I slam my left elbow harshly against the window three times before it cracks and shattered.
Forcing myself to knees I wince feeling my ankle shot with pain. Gripping the side of the window I cut my hand a little on glass but force my body out the window halfway. Barley keeping my eyes open I see red flashing lights of ambulances and firetrucks. "Buck she's here!" I heard Bobby his boss call out.
"Y/n. Hey, hey. It's me. It's Buck!" His voice calls out to me as I felt his hands cup my face with Chimney helping Bobby lift my body out of the car. Glancing around I see I'm now in an ambulance Buck starts to get out but I grab his hand. Bobby nods to allow. "Go with her, Buck. We can handle this."
Buck sits down looking over my injuries as I coughed into the breathing mask. "Evan. I'm sorry-about tonight." He brushes my bloodied hair back with his freehand. "Don't be. You saved yourself tonight."
"I'm only sorry that we'll have to reschedule our date." He kisses my forehead as I squeeze his hand. "Me too. But I think you deserve a week off for being a hero tonight."
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Dry Humping w/ Nagito Komaeda
request; P-Perhaps dry humping with Nagito? If not that is okay 👉👈
warnings; dry humping, gender-neutral reader, dub-con??, i am dying, slight humiliation, nagito is pretty good at dirty talk, no fluff, pwp, degradation??? but it’s like idk self-degrading degradation, not edited but i used spell check.
note; i got a pretty unpleasant eye infection so i had to write this with one eye open and the other eye closed- but hey, even diseases can’t stop my hornee *pained laughing* (on another note, i think i might be sick- i can’t breathe through any of my face holes properly, so uploads this week or month will be slower; i can barely see what i’m typing)
also i’m literally so sorry for cutting this off so short but please, i am drowning in my own fluids im so soryr sbhasjdfksdbfsjd please send help i think i am going to pass out /hj
“Are you-“ Nagito breathed out from in between your kisses, face flushed as he stared at you through half-lidded eyelashes. “—sure you want to-“ Swallowing down his words, your hands slid down to the waistband of his pants, fingers reaching in between you eagerly.
“S/o-!” He gasped into your mouth, hands that had been awkwardly hovering over your back, darted to your ass, pushing you closer to him selfishly as he arched his back into you ever so slightly.
His calls for your name only seemed to egg you on, as well as his touch; prompting you to practically hop into his lap, perching your core over his bulge. Nagito whined against your lips, fingernails digging in your thighs in desperation.
Whatever pleas, and worries of you not wanting trash like him from earlier, seemed to dissipate into thin air as he bucked his hips into yours. He didn’t seem to have to worry about you not wanting him, as your hips reciprocated his move by squeezing your thighs around his waist.
Nagito shuddered at the pressure, gasping out into your mouth; he muttered your name through pants. As you sucked and nibbled on his bottom lip, your hands fanned out on the back of his neck, cradling him further into you as he kissed you back with fervour.
You pulled away from his lips to take a breath, eyes peeking open to see his flushed face, and his own green stare he bore into you through his eyelashes. Nagito seemed to dislike the fact you stopped kissing him, and though he didn’t say anything about it, the domineering gaze he had on you was enough to start grinding against his lap like before. Dragging your crotch over his, mind you, extremely prominent bulge, you could feel it grow against you; causing you to jerk away and gasp as it had been too much pressure.
The gasp of air had been cut off as Nagito gently but eagerly pushed you to your back, taking things into his own hands as you had been going painfully slow for him. He adjusted your thighs around his waist as he leaned his back and hips into you, delicate and bony hands gripping the sides of your rib cage as if it was his lifeline.
“I’m so sorry; trash like me- Shouldn’t even be touching you, let alone humping you like a whore-ish animal, but-” He whispered, flushed, grinning face right above yours as he bucked his hips into yours, causing you to throw your head back in graceful ecstasy, lips parting as you let out a small moan.
Nagito let out a slightly delusional laugh at the face you made, eyes widening as he wanted to see you more clearly. “Haha, to be fair-” Nagito dipped his fluffy head down and nibbled the sensitive skin of your collar bone, hands sliding up to your shoulder blades as he arched his hips into your crotch a little harder. He spoke nothing but the truth against the crook of your neck, “you seem to be enjoying this a lot.” Mewling, you nodded frantically, urging a small obsessed chuckle from his side.
You bucked your hips up into him, trying to relieve some tension in your nether regions as it had begun to be too much. Nagito had practically scrambled to give you what you wanted, it was at that moment had you remembered that this was still Nagito, despite the domineering hold he had on you; this was still your Nagito.
He pulled his hands away from your back, bringing his forearms up to rest beside your head, lining up his flushed face right above yours. Through pants, his words fanned against your face—and notes of mint hit your nostrils. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to see- Ghhah! T-trash like me right above your f-face, huh?” He groaned out, an apologetic smile on his face as he jerked his hips into yours, causing you to moan out a little louder, to his lot.
You shook your head, fingers that had been gripping the sheets beside you, just seconds ago, shot up to his head full of fluffy white hair, pulling it slightly as you pushed him into your own face. His own green eyes widened as if he wasn’t expecting you to do that, breath hitching as he caught the lustful look in your eyes— lustful for him as it seems.
He almost felt pressured to make you feel good, cutting his call of your name off with his own lips on yours— he found himself melting into you, becoming completely immersed in you, your touch, your scent, your lips, your hips- It was as if he was binding himself into you; or at least that’s what he thought was happening.
Nagito had not only been melting into you in mind but also in body, as his knees buckled, causing him to fall and push up riiiiight against your sweet spot. Sure, you can call it a happy accident- but who’s to say Nagito didn’t do that on purpose?
“I’m sorry, so sorry-” He didn’t seem to be as sorry as he said he was, as he began grinding into you quicker, harder; a pace you could barely keep up with though you sat there and still took it with a glass of water.
“N-Nagito—!” You sobbed out suddenly, feeling your own fluids start to soak up your underwear and pants, you felt humiliation- though it had been nothing akin to how Nagito had been feeling. He was already thinking of what to say to you after he gets you to finish, cultivating several ways to beg for your forgiveness straight after.
With his voice slightly shaky from his grinding movements, he spoke anyway, “S-saying a name that belongs to trash like me, surely you know that’s below you, right?” His tone had almost been mocking, teasing; although it hadn’t truly been his intention to sound so. It was strange how he could degrade himself, and make it sound like he was degrading you all at the same time. Either way, it didn’t really matter as it only seemed to make your body grow warmer in arousal.
“Haha- oh god-” His bubbly laugh lowered an octave as you felt him grind especially hard and slow against your hips, you could feel him getting more desperate; the short social cue he had spoken earlier seemed to further your suspicion; he was close.
You arched your back into him and brought his hips closer to yours by wrapping your legs wrapped around his waist snugly. You bucked your hips up into his yet again, back lifting off the mattress as you stifled a loud moan from the increasing pressure.
Nagito didn’t seem to see the point of stifling his moans, as he seemed to moan as loud as he possibly could— fortunately and unfortunately, the pretty, breathy moans had been muffled by the cloth of the top garment you had been wearing, that he had been digging his nose into. It was unfortunate, the moans were too beautiful to be muffled, but you wouldn’t want any of your neighbours to complain, right?
“S/o, h-how close are you? S-seems like trash like me got ahead of myself, huh? I.. Hh- D-don’t think I can last any longer, but maybe I can get you off with my thigh-” You shook your head; though you weren’t opposed to the idea, you certainly were close.
“Nagi- Nagito-” the thing he had last said seemed to slip your lusted mind as you started repeating his name over and over again, the vocal repetitions getting faster as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your high.
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Underground, Part 1
[Author’s Note: A year ago, when waiting for the DC Metro, I came up with an idea for a short story involving two realtors and the infamous Las Vegas Underground House, typed up an outline, and shoved it away in my documents where it sat neglected until this month. The house recently resurfaced on Twitter, and combined with almost a year of quarantine, the story quickly materialized. Though I rarely write fiction, I decided I’d give it a shot as a kind of novelty McMansion Hell post. I’ve peppered the story with photos from the house to break up the walls of text. Hopefully you find it entertaining. I look forward to returning next month with the second installment of this as well as our regularly scheduled McMansion content. Happy New Year!
Warning: there’s lots of swearing in this.]
Back in 1997, Mathieu Rino, the son of two Finnish mechanical engineers who may or may not have worked intimately with the US State Department, changed his name to Jay Renault in order to sell more houses. It worked wonders.
He gets out of the car, shuts the door harder than he should. Renault wrinkles his nose. It’s a miserable Las Vegas afternoon - a sizzling, dry heat pools in ripples above the asphalt. The desert is a place that is full of interesting and diverse forms of life, but Jay’s the kind of American who sees it all as empty square-footage. He frowns at the dirt dusting up his alligator-skin loafers but then remembers that every lot, after all, has potential. Renault wipes the sweat from his leathery face, slicks back his stringy blond hair and adjusts the aviators on the bridge of his nose. The Breitling diving watch crowding his wrist looks especially big in the afternoon glare. He glances at it.
“Shit,” he says. The door on the other side of the car closes, as though in response.
If Jay Renault is the consummate rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xer trying to sell houses to other rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xers, then Robert Little is his millennial counterpart. Both are very good at their jobs. Robert adjusts his tie in the reflection of the Porsche window, purses his lips. He’s Vegas-showman attractive, with dark hair, a decent tan, and a too-bright smile - the kind of attractive that ruins marriages but makes for an excellent divorcee. Mildly sleazy.
“Help me with these platters, will you?” Renault gestures, popping the trunk. Robert does not want to sweat too much before an open house, but he obliges anyway. They’re both wearing suits. The heat is unbearable. A spread of charcuterie in one hand, Jay double-checks his pockets for the house keys, presses the button that locks his car.
Both men sigh, and their eyes slowly trail up to the little stucco house sitting smack dab in the center of an enormous lot, a sea of gravel punctuated by a few sickly palms. The house has the distinct appearance of being made of cardboard, ticky-tacky, a show prop. Burnt orange awnings don its narrow windows, which somehow makes it look even more fake.
“Here we go again,” Jay mutters, fishing the keys out of his pocket. He jiggles them until the splintered plywood door opens with a croak, revealing a dark and drab interior – dusty, even though the cleaners were here yesterday. Robert kicks the door shut with his foot behind him.
“Christ,” he swears, eyes trailing over the terrible ecru sponge paint adorning the walls. “This shit is so bleak.”
The surface-level house is mostly empty. There’s nothing for them to see or attend to there, and so the men step through a narrow hallway at the end of which is an elevator. They could take the stairs, but don’t want to risk it with the platters. After all, they were quite expensive. Renault elbows the button and the doors part.
“Let’s just get this over with,” he says as they step inside. The fluorescent lights above them buzz something awful. A cheery metal sign welcomes them to “Tex’s Hideaway.” Beneath it is an eldritch image of a cave, foreboding. Robert’s stomach’s in knots. Ever since the company assigned him to this property, he’s been terrified of it. He tells himself that the house is, in fact, creepy, that it is completely normal for him to be ill at ease. The elevator’s ding is harsh and mechanical. They step out. Jay flips a switch and the basement is flooded with eerie light.
It’s famous, this house - The Las Vegas Underground House. The two realtors refer to it simply as “the bunker.” Built by an eccentric millionaire at the height of Cold War hysteria, it’s six-thousand square feet of paranoid, aspirational fantasy. The first thing anyone notices is the carpet – too-green, meant to resemble grass, sprawling out lawn-like, bookmarked by fake trees, each a front for a steel beam. Nothing can grow here. It imitates life, unable to sustain it. The leaves of the ficuses seem particularly plastic.
Bistro sets scatter the ‘yard’ (if one can call it that), and there’s plenty of outdoor activities – a parquet dance floor complete with pole and disco ball, a putt putt course, an outdoor grill made to look like it’s nestled in a rock, but in reality better resembles a baked potato. The pool and hot tub, both sculpted in concrete and fiberglass mimicking a natural rock formation, are less Playboy grotto and more Fred Flintstone. It’s a very seventies idea of fun.
Then, of course, there’s the house. That fucking house.
A house built underground in 1978 was always meant to be a mansard – the mansard roof was a historical inevitability. The only other option was International Style modernism, but the millionaire and his wife were red-blooded anti-Communists. Hence, the mansard. Robert thinks the house looks like a fast-food restaurant. Jay thinks it looks like a lawn and tennis club he once attended as a child where he took badminton lessons from a swarthy Czech man named Jan. It’s drab and squat, made more open by big floor-to-ceiling windows nestled under fresh-looking cedar shingles. There’s no weather down here to shrivel them up.
“Shall we?” Jay drawls. The two make their way into the kitchen and set the platters down on the white tile countertop. Robert leans up against the island, careful of the oversized hood looming over the electric stovetop. He eyes the white cabinets, accented with Barbie pink trim. The matching linoleum floor squeaks under his Italian loafers.
“I don’t understand why we bother doing this,” Robert complains. “Nobody’s seriously going to buy this shit, and the company’s out a hundred bucks for party platters.”
“It’s the same every time,” Renault agrees. “The only people who show up are Instagram kids and the crazies - you know, the same kind of freaks who’d pay money to see Chernobyl.”
“Dark tourism, they call it.”
Jay checks his watch again. Being in here makes him nervous.
“Still an hour until open house,” he mutters. “I wish we could get drunk.”
Robert exhales deeply. He also wishes he could get drunk, but still, a job’s a job.
“I guess we should check to see if everything’s good to go.”
The men head into the living room. The beamed, slanted ceiling gives it a mid-century vibe, but the staging muddles the aura. Jay remembers making the call to the staging company. “Give us your spares,” he told them, “Whatever it is you’re not gonna miss. Nobody’ll ever buy this house anyway.”
The result is eclectic – a mix of office furniture, neo-Tuscan McMansion garb, and stuffy waiting-room lamps, all scattered atop popcorn-butter shag carpeting. Hideous, Robert thinks. Then there’s the ‘entertaining’ room, which is a particular pain in the ass to them, because the carpet was so disgusting, they had to replace it with that fake wood floor just to be able to stand being in there for more than five minutes. There’s a heady stone fireplace on one wall, the kind they don’t make anymore, a hearth. Next to it, equally hedonistic, a full bar. Through some doors, a red-painted room with a pool table and paintings of girls in fedoras on the wall. It’s all so cheap, really. Jay pulls out a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket along with a pen. He ticks some boxes and moves on.
The dining room’s the worst to Robert. Somehow the ugly floral pattern on the curtains stretches up in bloomer-like into a frilly cornice, carried through to the wallpaper and the ceiling, inescapable, suffocating. It smells like mothballs and old fabric. The whole house smells like that.
The master bedroom’s the most normal – if anything in this house could be called normal. Mismatched art and staging furniture crowd blank walls. When someone comes into a house, Jay told Robert all those years ago, they should be able to picture themselves living in it. That’s the goal of staging.
There’s two more bedrooms. The men go through them quickly. The first isn’t so bad – claustrophobic, but acceptable – but the saccharine pink tuille wallpaper of the second gives Renault a sympathetic toothache. The pair return to the kitchen to wait.
Both men are itching to check their phones, but there’s no point – there’s no signal in here, none whatsoever. Renault, cynical to the core, thinks about marketing the house to the anti-5G people. It’s unsettlingly quiet. The two men have no choice but to entertain themselves the old-fashioned way, through small talk.
“It’s really fucked up, when you think about it,” Renault muses.
“The house, Bob.”
Robert hates being called Bob. He’s told Jay that hundreds of times, and yet…
“Yeah,” Robert mutters, annoyed.
“No, really. Like, imagine. You’re rich, you founded a major multinational company marketing hairbrushes to stay-at-home moms, and what do you decide to do with your money? Move to Vegas and build a fucking bunker. Like, imagine thinking the end of the world is just around the corner, forcing your poor wife to live there for ten, fifteen years, and then dying, a paranoid old man.” Renault finds the whole thing rather poetic.
“The Russkies really got to poor ol’ Henderson, didn’t they?” Robert snickers.
“The wife’s more tragic if you ask me,” Renault drawls. “The second that batshit old coot died, she called a guy to build a front house on top of this one, since she already owned the lot. Poor woman probably hadn’t seen sunlight in God knows how long.”
“Surely they had to get groceries.”
Jay frowns. Robert has no sense of drama, he thinks. Bad trait for a realtor.
“Still,” he murmurs. “It’s sad.”
“I would have gotten a divorce, if I were her,” the younger man says, as though it were obvious. It’s Jay’s turn to laugh.
“I’ve had three of those, and trust me, it’s not as easy as you think.”
“You’re seeing some new girl now, aren’t you?” Robert doesn’t really care, he just knows Jay likes to talk about himself, and talking fills the time.
“Yeah. Casino girl. Twenty-six.”
“And how old are you again?”
“None of your business.”
“Did you see the renderings I emailed to you?” Robert asks briskly, not wanting to discuss Jay’s sex life any further.
“Of this house, what it could look like.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Jay has not seen the renderings.
“If it were rezoned,” Robert continues, feeling very smart, “It could be a tourist attraction - put a nice visitor’s center on the lot, make it sleek and modern. Sell trinkets. It’s a nice parcel, close to the Strip - some clever investor could make it into a Museum of Ice Cream-type thing, you know?”
“Museum of Ice Cream?”
“In New York. It’s, not, like, educational or anything. Really, it’s just a bunch of colorful rooms where kids come to take pictures of themselves.”
“Instagram,” Jay mutters. “You know, I just sold a penthouse the other week to an Instagram influencer. Takes pictures of herself on the beach to sell face cream or some shit. Eight-point-two million dollars.”
“Jesus,” Robert whistles. “Fat commission.”
“You’re telling me. My oldest daughter turns sixteen this year. She’s getting a Mazda for Christmas.”
“You ever see that show, My Super Sweet Sixteen? On MTV? Where rich kids got, like, rappers to perform at their birthday parties? Every time at the end, some guy would pull up in, like, an Escalade with a big pink bow on it and all the kids would scream.”
“Sounds stupid,” Jay says.
“It was stupid.”
It’s Robert’s turn to check his watch, a dainty gold Rolex.
“Fuck, still thirty minutes.”
“Time really does stand still in here, doesn’t it?” Jay remarks.
“We should have left the office a little later,” Robert complains. “The charcuterie is going to get –“
A deafening sound roars through the house and a violent, explosive tremor throws both men on the ground, shakes the walls and everything between them. The power’s out for a few seconds before there’s a flicker, and light fills the room again. Two backup generators, reads Jay’s description in the listing - an appeal to the prepper demographic, which trends higher in income than non-preppers. For a moment, the only things either are conscious of are the harsh flourescent lighting and the ringing in their ears. Time slows, everything seems muted and too bright. Robert rubs the side of his face, pulls back his hand and sees blood.
“Christ,” he chokes out. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” Jay breathes, looking at his hands, trying to determine if he’s got a concussion. The results are inconclusive – everything’s slow and fuzzy, but after a moment, he thinks it might just be shock.
“It sounded like a fucking 747 just nosedived on top of us.”
“Yeah, Jesus.” Jay’s still staring at his fingers in a daze. “You okay?”
“I think so,” Robert grumbles. Jay gives him a cursory examination.
“Nothing that needs stitches,” he reports bluntly. Robert’s relieved. His face sells a lot of houses to a lot of lonely women and a few lonely men. There’s a muffled whine, which the two men soon recognize as a throng of sirens. Both of them try to calm the panic rising in their chests, to no avail.
“Whatever the fuck happened,” Jay says, trying to make light of the situation, “At least we’re in here. The bunker.”
Fear forms in the whites of Robert’s eyes.
“What if we’re stuck in here,” he whispers, afraid to speak such a thing into the world. The fear spreads to his companion.
“Try the elevator,” Jay urges, and Robert gets up, wobbles a little as his head sorts itself out, and leaves. A moment later, Jay hears him swear a blue streak, and from the kitchen window, sees him standing before the closed metal doors, staring at his feet. His pulse racing, Renault jogs out to see for himself.
“It’s dead,” Robert murmurs.
“Whatever happened,” Jay says cautiously, rubbing the back of his still-sore neck, “It must have been pretty bad. Like, I don’t think we should go up yet. Besides, surely the office knows we’re still down here.”
“Right, right,” the younger man breathes, trying to reassure himself.
“Let’s just wait it out. I’m sure everything’s fine.” The way Jay says it does not make Robert feel any better.
“Okay,” the younger man grumbles. “I’m getting a fucking drink, though.”
“Yeah, Jesus. That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.” Renault shoves his hands in his suit pocket to keep them from trembling.
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Candy Coated 1
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), nothing much to warn about in the first chapter but you know what’s coming.
This is dark!Zemo x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Series Synopsis: You’ve always felt like you’re running from behind to catch up, but after a chance encounter with an enigmatic man, your life gets ahead of you.
Note: Okay! So we’re starting a Zemo fic and I’m trash but the Loki chapter is ready for tomorrow so... win?
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
The door handles were tagged with numbers. The associate asked how many garments you had as she led you to one of the many booths along the spacious room. There were cushioned benches, designer chairs, and mirrors all around the fitting area. Several others waited for their fellow shoppers or spoke over the tops of the stalls as they changed. You felt entirely out of place.
You told the associate ‘only one’ as she unlocked a booth for you and Whitney gave her own answer, ‘five,’ as she was shown to the next. Drew took the one after that with her armful of skirts and shirts and you closed yourself in. You hung the ocean blue dress from the hook and admired the smooth cut.
You stripped off your tan jacket, your coral blouse, and hemmed tweed pants. You wiggled into the dress and admire how it hugged your shape without seeming lascivious. It was perfect.
You smiled at your reflection then your face fell. The phone call played in your head; ‘we’re sorry to inform you…’
You sighed, if only. You were about to shimmy out of it when the door next to yours swung open and you heard Whitney’s heels. Another door whisked open and the women squealed at each other.
“Gorgeous,” Drew praised, “hey, we’re waiting to see!”
You winced and unlocked the door. You poked your head out and glanced around. There was another group of girls checking out their choices in the large mirror that stretched the far wall and a man checking his watch as he waited outside a door, his arm folded over with a pile of dresses.
“I’m not going to get it, so it doesn’t--” you began.
“So? Let’s see!” Whitney clapped as her ringlets bounced on her shoulders.
“Fine, but it’s just not practical for me,” you emerged reluctantly. You felt awkward and overly aware of the strangers in the room.
“Oh my god, that looks amazing on you!” Drew chimed, “turn around.”
“Aw, okay, stop flattering me,” you waved her off as you mumbled.
“Twirl, twirl, twirl,” Whitney started to chant and Drew joined in. You shushed them and turned your palms out desperately.
“Okay, okay, just… you guys are loud,” you chided and slowly turned, biting your lip in embarrassment.
As the girls oohed at the reverse view, the man with the heap of dresses watched you and his thin lips slanted. His eyes narrowed and he quickly turned away as the door beside him clicked. A tall blonde woman stepped out and posed in a strappy black dress. You finished your spin and hugged yourself.
“Alright, that’s enough,” you said, “I’m getting out of this thing.”
“It looks great, really. You should get it.” Whitney said.
“Agree,” Drew added, “you can wear it to your internship with the deputy minister.”
You inhaled sharply and forced a smile. You didn’t have it in you to spoil the day with your bad news. You cleared your throat and opened the door of your stall.
“I guess… yeah, I could,” you murmured.
“Get it, come on!” Whitney urged, “you could grab a few more too.”
“No, no, one is just fine for me,” you laughed nervously, “I’ll get it.”
You hid behind the door and let out your breath. You undressed but couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror. You would be the failure again when they found out. Always trying to catch up from behind.
You took two summers off before university so you could pay for it and by the time you started, they were almost ready to graduate. And when you graduated, they were settled in at jobs they expected to hold for decades to come. And now you were on a second degree that seemed to be going nowhere.
You replaced the dress on the hanger and pulled on your own clothes, your goodwill treasures and hand-me-downs. You slipped into your jacket and draped the dress over your arm as you emerged from your dressing room.
You sat on the bench and waited as Whitney and Drew continued to try on each of their pieces, every time they came out to consult you and one another. They looked great in all of it and they could afford more than. You crossed your arms with the dress in your lap and felt the licking flames of unbelonging.
You looked around as you grew more anxious to leave. You didn’t shop at boutiques like these and that wasn’t exactly a choice. The man caught your eyes again, his curved lips gave him a constant smirk and his cheeks twitched as he seemed inclined to truly grin at you. You turned away quickly and wondered if a man with a woman like that was really looking at you.
Finally, Whitney and Drew decided on what they wanted and you got up to follow them out of the fitting area. As you neared the door, you reached under the sleeve of the dress and peeked at the price tag. Your heart dropped and you blinked. You blanched as you lifted your head and again you met the gaze of that man. You hurried away as you hid your shame.
You waited behind Whitney and Drew as they paid one at a time. The total of their hauls made you even more lightheaded and when it was your turn, you put the dress on the counter and dreaded the blaring rejection of the machine.
You swiped and as expected it declined. You had maybe ten bucks left on the plastic and the rest of your cards were maxed. You could barely afford your groceries, let alone a new extravagant and useless dress.
“Oh, shoot, let me find another card,” you laughed nervously and smiled at Drew and Whitney, “you guys go on, I’ll catch up. Headin’ to starbucks, right?”
“We’ll order for you,” Drew said, “I’m jonesin’ for my cold brew.”
“Right, uh, the usual,” you pretended to search your wallet.
“See ya in a few,” Drew sang as she grabbed Whitney, “don’t take too long or you might not have a drink waiting.”
You waited for them to go before you turned back to the associate. Your shoulders dropped and folded up your wallet.
“I can’t afford that dress,” you confessed, “you can put it back.” Pity flashed across her face and she folded it and put it aside. “But could I maybe just have a bag? What are they, a quarter?”
“Two dollars,” she said as she tilted her head.
“Wait,” the voice made your head snap and you turned slightly to look back at the man from the fitting area, “put the dress in a bag,” he flicked his card out between two fingers, “it’s on me.”
You both stared at him and the associate slowly reached for the card. The movement broke through your shock and you sniffed.
“Uh, sir, you don’t have to do that. Please, I’d rather you didn’t--”
“Nonsense, this place is hideously priced,” he fluttered his fingers carelessly, “I’ll be spending a lot more before I go, what’s a little extra?”
“I really can’t--”
“Swipe the card,” he told the associate, “and you might add a gift card to the transaction… say somewhere in the triple digits.”
“That is too much, please, sir--” You shoved your wallet away and back up, “I can’t take that dress.”
“Go on,” he commanded the associate and the card deep in approval as she slid it through the machine.
He waited patiently as she packed up the dress and the card in a bag and he took it from her with a smile. He turned to you and held out the purchase, “good luck in your internship.”
“Oh, god,” you huffed, “I didn’t get it, okay? I-- I just couldn’t say-- why am I telling you? I’m sorry, but please just return the dress.”
“Well, dear, regardless, it is yours. Your friends were telling the truth, it looked very nice on you,” he nudged your arm with the bag, “take it before you embarrass me.”
You searched his face then lowered your eyes. You pushed your fingers through the ribbon handles and they brushed his. He let the bag go and squared his shoulders. His dark turtleneck and jacket outlined his figure finely and he hooked the singular button.
“And when one thing goes wrong, you deserve a nice thing to balance the tables,” he said, “now go, catch up to your friends.”
He bent his head and left you. You watched him return to the fitting area and you ignored the curious associate as you numbly retreated to the door. You peered out into the street then down at the bag. It was an odd encounter but you were overthinking it. He had a beautiful blonde waiting for him in that stall and he seemed all too impatient to get back to her.
Your shift at the shop was almost over. You enjoyed closing on your own. It wasn’t too difficult as the handmade soap and candle shop was not exactly buzzing with energy. Business was steady enough to keep the doors open but later in the day, the floor was mostly empty.
You stepped down from behind the wooden counter and paced along the creaky boards of the city walk-up. You fixed the hand-written signs for the seasonal soaps and sighed as the stack of salve tins had been cluttered into a mess. You re-arranged them into the low pyramid and took a whiff of the lemon lavender mixture.
You couldn’t even afford the products you were paid to sell. They weren’t exactly overpriced but your account was more attuned to the dollar store bottles. Now and then, Cynthia would give you a sample or two but she couldn’t be called generous in her business.
As you strode listlessly around the shop and waited for the minutes to count down to six, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You checked the screen and blinked at the caller; Ministry Offices. You knew the number well and the last time you answered, well, it didn’t go great.
You hit the green icon and lifted your cell to your ear, “hello?”
“Hello, this is Brynne from Deputy Minister Arnaud’s offices,” she introduced herself and asked for you.
“This is her,” you replied nervously, tapping your fingertips on your chin as you stopped your wandering.
“My apologies to call so late, I hope I’ve not disturbed you,” she said kindly.
“Not at all,” you said and pressed on your lip anxiously.
“I must apologise again on behalf of the deputy minister,” she continued, “it seems we called your previously pre-maturely and he would like to extend to you an offer of placement for the summer. If you are still available to do so. We understand that our error may have caused some inconvenience but upon review of your application, we thought it appropriate to issue a formal offer.”
“Really?” you uttered, barely loud enough for her to pick up. “Sorry, uh, are you serious?”
“Very, miss, once again, we are sorry for the mistake,” she said.
“Uh, oh, yeah,” you sputtered as you pushed your hand out stiffly and talked to the room, “yeah, I would be… I would love to.”
“That’s great,” she trilled, “I will e-mail you your letter of agreement and a link for your background check and we will see you at the beginning of June.”
“June, yeah, yeah,” you were in disbelief as you smiled at the room, “Thank you.”
“Have a good evening,” she said cordially.
“You too,” you chirped, “uh, bye.”
The speaker clicked and you lowered your phone. The internship wasn’t paid but you could work around it. Your classes were done for the spring so you didn’t need to worry about those. Your thoughts raced with every single worry; commute, Cynthia, your roommates, your bills. You would have to. Well, you would make it work.
You looked at the time again and went to lock the front door as six o’clock rolled around. As you slung your bag on your shoulder another realisation struck you. You could wear that dress you hadn’t dare taken out of the bag. Maybe that man was right after all, maybe good things would balance out the bad.
The day came and you couldn’t settle the butterflies in your stomach. You woke up early to get ready and as you looked at yourself in the mirror, a sudden wave of doubt flowed over you. You felt like an imposter, like it was all too good to be true.
Maybe it was a lie, a trick, what if you showed up and they didn’t have a place for you?
You shoved your things into the new leather bag your mother sent you as a congratulations and rushed out as you checked your watch. You had to take three trains just to get to the ministry offices. You followed the crowd onto the underground and eked through the doors just before they closed.
You looked around as you grip the pole and swayed in your low heels. You quickly averted your eyes as they met another pair. You needed to shake that shyness if you were going to get anywhere in global affairs. Even at the shop, you still found it nerve-racking to approach customers looking for soaps.
You ran for your transfer and then the next. When you came up to street level again you were entirely disoriented. You never came to this part of the city. Rows of upscale boutiques lined the walks and the classical Ministry Buildings stood above the square of pink blossom trees and perfectly trimmed hedges.
You tripped up the steps and cursed as you scraped your knee. You limped the rest of the way and shook the offkilter gait entirely as you entered the foyer of the building. You went to the large round desk, the same one you approached when you went for your interview, and fidgeted as the man behind it searched for your credentials.
After validating your ID, you were handed a badge and a folio. You stole a tissue from the box on the desk and stopped to blot away the blood on your leg. You went back out and clopped across the yard to the Ivory Building. The Ministry of Global Affairs was centered there and even if you’d been there before, you still found the way confusing.
You stood in the elevator, eyes on the floor and readied yourself for your first day. Be pleasant, be professional, and for god’s sake, don’t mumble. You stepped off on the wrong floor and groaned. You took the stairs as you were too embarrassed to wait for the next car and climbed three flights.
Brynne greeted you as you emerged out of breath and you worked to steady yourself as you approached her large desk. You smiled and dropped your folio before you could reach her. She chuckled graciously and made some sympathic remark.
“Sorry, I…” you looked at the clock, “whew, I’m so early, I--”
“No, it’s great, Minister Arnaud is just in a meeting but you can wait out here. Maybe have some water,” she gestured to the dispenser, “and I can get you the rest of your paperwork.”
“Oh, okay,” you went awkwardly to the waiting era and sat on a leather chair.
You crossed your ankles and tried not to jiggle your leg as you folded your hands over the folio on your lap. You chewed your lip and nearly jumped as Brynne came to hand you another folder. You thanked her as she handed you a pen and explained what you needed to read and sign before the end of the day.
She left you and you tried to focus on the tight font. The papers slipped and both the folios fell to the floor. You hissed at yourself and gathered them up, knowing that Brynne and the few other workers were probably laughing at the nervous newbie.
A door opened and you heard a deep voice. You finished collecting the papers and sorted them frantically as you saw Minister Arnaud’s dusty hair. He was with another man though you could hardly see them past the frosted divider behind Brynne’s desk. You stood as they came nearer and closed the folders.
“Ah, here she is,” Minister Arnaud greeted you like an old friend and offered his hand.
You shook it, his large hand firm and the motion jerking your arm. You recognized the man at his side, shorter than him and with dark brown hair neatly parted on one side. You were stunned as he made no effort to hide the way his eyes roved over the blue dress.
“My new intern,” Arnaud said, “as you know.”
“Yes, I was pleased to hear she got the role,” the other man said, “so good to see you again.”
He offered his hand in turn and you repeated the formal gesture. He smiled and nodded between you and the other man.
“Are you okay?” he looked down and you followed his eyes to scrap on your knee which began to bleed once more, “here.”
He pulled out a handkerchief, embroidered with a flamboyant “Z” under a falcon crest. He held it out to you and you took it awkwardly.
“It’s fine. I tripped... getting off the train,” you lied and bent awkwardly to dab the blood. He smiled and hummed.
“I would not keep you from your work. First day must be so exciting,” he said as he turned back to Arnaud, “Minister.”
“Baron,” Arnaud replied and they shook hands.
The dark-haired man left, shoulders straight and head high as if he owned the world. He strode to the elevator and hit the button, sliding his hands into his pockets casually as he waited. You turned back to the minister and smiled as you balled up the handkerchief in your fist.
“I didn’t know you were acquainted with Baron Zemo,” he said, “I suppose it’s a small world.”
“Indeed,” you answered.
“Well, let’s not waste our time. An early bird, I like it,” he said as he glanced over at the clock, “why don’t we get you settled in and you can go over all this hullabaloo,” he flicked the top of the folders, “and after lunch, we will start going over expectations, yes?”
“Yes, minister,” you replied diligently.
“Mr. Arnaud is formal enough, but I don’t mind Georges,” he corrected, “government is full of enough fodder.”
You nodded and curled in your lips anxiously. He turned and beckoned you after him as he glided over to Brynne’s desk and asked for his messages. You listened intently and looked all around as you tried to absorb every second and every inch.
Still, you found it hard to concentrate as your mind strayed to that man you’d met in that shop. How on earth had he found you again?
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Dosage: Gojo Satoru x Reader
summary: you finally gain the courage to tell Gojo what you are craving. (some requested Gojo smut for me and my simps)
Wc: 4, 587
Few people had seen the mystifying colors that you theorized were present in Gojo’s eyes. You had known him for months now and had yet to intimately glimpse his irises. It was strange to not know what awaited you under the fabric, as eyes were one of the first features another would compliment.
It was a feature that made up a face, that many people needed to see to find someone attractive. You had developed immensely strong feelings, falling for every inch of his body, strength, and personality, without even knowing what color his eyes were.
It had all started after you were paired up on a project with him to train the boy who had consumed Sukuna’s fingers. You were a renowned sorcerer in your own right, yet you knew your power could not compare to what Gojo displayed every time you were thrown into battle beside him.
That was another reason you fell so deeply in love with him. He was there to save you each time. Like today, for instance. After battling and exorcizing until your body was completely out of stamina, Gojo swooped in at the last minute and cleaned up the rest of them as you laughed on the sidelines.
Now he had brought you back to his house, a place where you could always relax. You felt so safe around him, never having a care in the world when you were in his presence.
You sprawled across his bed, a bed you had grown so accustomed to, letting yourself become surrounded by his scent and everything that made him who he was. Normally, you would have immediately drifted off into a peaceful slumber, but the mood that hung low around the two of you felt different this time around.
Though you had been dating for quite some time, there was one action you and Gojo had not participated in--which was sex. There were multiple reasons for not taking pleasure in the wonders his body could provide, yet what it came down to was time management, which was something the two of you were terrible at.
Time management was hard when your livelihood depended on calls of distress.
Yet right then, coming down from the high of combat, after watching him in his element, there was only one thing on your mind. You wanted him. You wanted him in the most intimate way possible.
“Are you going to take a nap?” Gojo closed the door behind him, immediately slipping out of his coat and tossing it onto his desk chair.
Truthfully, a nap did sound wonderful. It was just nice to receive some peace and quiet with him, yet, your urges could not be suppressed again. You at least had to say something about it, let him know what you were craving. “I want something…” You sat up, gaining the courage to face him head-on with the need that was pooling in the pit of your stomach from his unfiltered proximity alone.
Gojo turned, already chuckling from your outburst. “Let me guess… You wanna see me with it off?” he pointed at his blindfold, lips upturned with a smirk.
“I mean…” You trailed off, trying to express your words as nonchalantly as possible. Your boyfriend had only guessed one of the two things you wanted. “If you want to… I’d also like more than that.”
“And what would that be?” Gojo questioned, snaking his way between your legs, towering over you with a playful intensity that was absent before. It was clear that he enjoyed your perturbation, as it was something you rarely expressed, you were always calm and collected.
Your relationship had never gone further than heated make-out sessions, your hands never reaching past the hem of his pants, never gaining the confidence to run across his abs and along his biceps, biceps you constantly eyed every time he was in battle. It was as if he was a life-saving drug that you could never get the proper dosage of.
The sight of him alone turned you on, and you were sick and tired of suppressing those wishes.
“I want you.” Your words came out sheepish, quiet.
Because of your sudden timidness, Gojo’s movements became tender, a far contrast from what you were used to, he was always giddy, cracking jokes left and right. He was rarely serious, even in battle, even in life or death situations.
He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, signaling that he intended to grant your wish.
“It’s about time isn’t it?” Gojo whispered in your ear, resting his knee between your legs, leaning down until you were almost embracing. “I was just waiting for you to ask, I’m surprised you held out for so long.”
You blushed, trying to look at anything else besides the smug expression he was wearing. Your stomach flipped with butterflies under the touch of your boyfriend, best friend, and mentor—a touch that felt familiar, yet so foreign in its unexplored way. He had never touched you like this before, so compassionate; laced with hunger in its purest form.
Without another word, Gojo gently grasped your wrists. He guided you to his blindfold, waiting for you to reach out. Your fingers curled excitedly around the silky fabric. What color would his eyes be? Would they be green, or brown, or blue? What if he didn’t have any eyes at all?
Your breath hitched as you tugged it away.
“Gojo-” You whispered, at a loss for words. His eyes were a mystifying glacier blue, a blue that could only be mimicked in the deep crevices of northern hemisphere icebergs. They reminded you of the ocean, of light blue water that stretched to the horizon.
Your hand came to cup his cheek, and at the contact, he tilted his head into your touch.
“I love you,” Gojo confessed, a confession that tore you away from your study. It was strange, viewing him in his entirety, an entirety you knew was a rarity among your pupils and superiors, your underlings, everyone except you and the few he held close to his heart.
The sorcerer was handsome, utterly breathtaking. You held his affectionate gaze for what seemed like minutes, enjoying the silence of his beauty, wanting to engrave the sight of his eyes forever into your memory, cherishing the view as if it could be your last.
I love you.
Then, as you finally processed what he had confessed, your eyes widened. “What?—” You were cut off by his lips connecting with yours, engulfing your thoughts in complete and utter bliss. For a brief moment, your eyes stayed open.
He had never said that to you before. Did he mean it? Did he really love you?
As if he could read your mind, Gojo mumbled against your lips, “I mean it.” The tone in his voice had a faint smirk to it as if he was teasing you for believing he could be anything but serious, teasing you for believing that he would lie about something as important as his affections for you.
You kissed him first, melting against his towering frame, succumbing to your desires. His lips mended perfectly with yours in motions that were so passionate you could hardly focus on breathing.
You clutched onto Gojo’s arm to steady yourself. His kisses became rougher, hungrier, more intense with each passing moment. You became drunk on the lips that you had waited so long for.
“I love…” You gasped, trying to pull away and accept his confession. “I love you too.”
“Good.” Gojo chuckled, curling his arm securely around your waist. You shivered at the contact, prepared to accept whatever he had in mind. You wanted to submit, you wanted everything he would give you.
Steadily, Gojo leaned into you, beckoning you backward until you were flattened against the mattress. In any other situation, with any other person, you would have fought for dominance, you would have resisted such compromising positions. Yet safety radiated off of him, as it always had. Your eyes flickered back down to his reddening lips, your helpless position inviting him for more.
You had months of kissing to cover. And with each movement your lips made, your emotions heightened, begging for more, begging for all of him. Time was finally something the both of you had enough of.
Because of that reason, and only that reason, you sat up the second he pulled away to breathe and pushed him onto his back.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Gojo laughed, letting the back of his head rest against the headboard. You didn’t answer, only crawled on top of him in response, your actions the perfect answer. You wanted to please him just as badly as he wanted you.
You shifted positions until you were straddling him, placing your lips back against his. Gojo groaned into your mouth, the slightest movement from you causing him to grow hard. Instinctively, his hands moved from your face and latched onto your hips. The man grasped them tightly, almost pawing in hopes that your clothes would fall away that easily. He wanted to take you as soon as he could, infatuated with every move you made, every sound that he managed to etch from your lips.
Your hips bucked naturally, desperate for pressure, desperate for contact, the position you had put yourself in granted you access you had only ever thought to dream of before.
“Baby…” You whined, feeling that same spot in your stomach flipping as his movements followed yours. You kissed him again, and again, hands reaching out and grasping his shoulders, trailing down his biceps, hurting for skin to skin contact.
You needed him. Every fiber in your being was pulsating for the urge to become one. The way he moved his hips in response to your contact relayed that he felt the same. You felt his hardness underneath, pressing against your cunt, tempting to be released, tempting for release.
Refusing to contemplate if you should for another minute, you broke away from the kiss, saliva connecting your lips to his. Blushing, you gained a moment to breathe, cheeks tainted with evidence of your current, sinful state. You wanted more. But was now the right time?
Staring into your own pair of mystifying eyes was enough to give Gojo his answer. Yes, the right time was now. “Only if you want to.” He whispered.
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. There was no way you could leave his bedroom without satisfying the sensual urge that filled every sense. You ran your hands through Gojo’s hair, pulling him as close as you could.
“Please fuck me.” You whispered, suddenly becoming shy enough from the desperation in your tone. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had sex before, it was more that you wanted it so badly from him, it was the fact that he had been sweet enough to never ask, sweet enough to not need such an act to want to be with you.
It seemed like he had been trying his best to hold back, and now that you were finally ready, he was not going to hold back. Now that you could see his eyes clearly, you could fully understand the emotions he was feeling.
“I’ll do much more than that, sweetheart,” Gojo whispered, proceeding to push you out of his lap and into your back. Recognizing the glint in his eye to be one of animalistic lust, you obediently laid on your back, trying to avert your eyes in embarrassment as the man you loved helped you out of your shirt. As both top garments slipped off your body, you felt the heat creep back into your core, stimulated by the simplest action.
Having your chest exposed for the first time, Gojo ravished the touch, letting his hands linger and brush against all the places you had never let him before. Even if he had always fantasized about doing so, nothing could compare to the reality.
Feeling the hotness of Gojo’s mouth against your breasts caused you to moan out loud.
“Oh… ho...ho…” the man whispered against your skin, grinding his hips into your core for another distraction. He was enjoying himself as much as you were. “Let it out, sweetheart, you can be as loud as you want.”
The hardness in his pants ignited something deep within you. It felt heavenly, the sexual contact so foreign from his hands, something you had wished for just as hard as he had.
But your breaths soon become muffled mewls of erotic pleasure as Gojo bruised the sensitive spot on your neck. He moved his hands down to your thighs, drawing circles softly and sensually, inching closer and closer to your core.
"I want to see all of you..." He groaned against your skin, pulling his head away to stare into your own lust-filled eyes, searching for any sort of confirmation.
You were flustered, pressed entirely against his chest as he continued to play with your body. You didn’t know it was possible for every action to be so pleasurable, to be so intense that you were already growing wet from only being touched and kissed.
That’s what was racing through your mind as Gojo’s hands snaked down your sides and over your panties. Before you could process his actions, you felt his fingers against your clit, fingers rubbing in soft, slow circles.
"Gojo..." You pleaded in short quick whimpers, not wanting him to stop grinding against the incredibly sensitive spot. No man had ever teased you with such tenderness and care.
Confidence surged through your veins at his touch, exciting you and sending waves of passion across your body. With the newfound feeling, you decided to please him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his face into your exposed chest.
"I want you inside me..."You whimpered, grinding against his fingers to display just how badly you were wishing.
"Fuck.. Y/N... don't say that..." Gojo grunted, grasping hold of your chin to bring your lips back together with his.
Despite the heated tongue locking, Gojo continued to massage between your thighs, trailing under your shorts and past your underwear, until he quickly inserted his fingers. You moaned loudly, tears gathering on your eyelids from how blissful it felt. Just his fingers could be enough to satisfy, if you weren’t so hungry for all of him. "P-please..." You whined, hands moving from his shoulders to the sheets, kneading your palms against them as your clit pulsed with heat.
The man’s body was trembling just as much, the nerves finally setting in. All Gojo wanted to do was please you, he wanted to do such a wonderful job that you were unable to think of anyone else. Though no matter what happened, you would always think he was handsome, especially with how apparent he made his emotions known, the sexual and the physical, his own composure coming undone against you.
You tugged on his shirt, beckoning him to take it off. Gojo obeyed quickly, wanting to strip off all his clothing because of how electrified you made him feel.
Your eyes widened, gaze lingering on every curve, everything that made him the masterpiece he was. Moving your hands forward, you touched his toned chest, your fingers exploring and caressing every muscle you could get your hands on. The sorcerer relaxed at the desperation laced within your actions, his breathing faltering for a moment before he grabbed your hands and forced them above your head, against the bed.
You stared deeply into his eyes, him doing the same. Take me. You pleaded silently. Do it now.
Gojo pinned you down, hovering over on one knee, not wasting another second to finally slide your panties down your legs until you were completely naked. You threw your head back at the coldness of his hands, pressing against your most sensitive parts, inserting one, then two, then three fingers. His own lips parted as he watched you take him gladly, trying to prepare yourself for what you knew was growing in his pants. Goosebumps spread across your entire body as you met his suddenly crazed eyes, no longer composed.
"You're so beautiful," The man whispered huskily. “And you are all for me.” Astounded, he began to slip out of his pants. With every movement he made in between, he made sure to leave a hot, wet kiss on your thigh. Gojo stepped out of his boxers, his staggering length bouncing in front of your face. His cock poked against your entrance within the next moment, hungry for action.
He loved you. Gojo couldn’t fight the attraction any longer. He also couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t been pinning over a moment like this for the entirety of your relationship.
Without another second to pass, Gojo abruptly pulled your naked body to the edge of the bed and smiled down at your flustered cheeks. All this for him and he couldn’t be luckier.
Though every subconscious thought throughout the time he had grown to know you had undoubtedly prepared him for this moment, he was still awestruck. Despite his own strength, you had your own overwhelming amount. You had the wits, you had the beauty. You had everything he could ever want and he could only ever think about protecting you, cherishing you, loving you to his fullest extent.
“Gojo…” You whimpered, tone evidently conveying embarrassment. He had been staring at you for a while, something you weren’t used to because of his covering. Though you had only whimpered his name, it had prompted action. The man leaned down over your womanhood and promptly stuck his tongue inside of you.
You gripped the sheets in panic, never imagining how incredible the feeling could be. "Oh my god..." You whimpered, throwing your head back at the sensation. It felt better than his fingers, hot and wet, and compromising.
Gojo was simulated by your sounds, due to the speed his tongue licked and massaged against your clit. You grabbed his hair and pushed his face down harder, completely satisfied with how it felt. Yet you couldn’t stop with just this-- you needed more. You needed all of him. All your worries faded into the background noise along with the crinkling sheets and low groan of your lover’s baritone.
You closed your eyes for a moment, only feeling, only touching, only relishing in him. Your mind was filled with his bliss, his passion, his love.
"Make love with me..." You panted, eyes pleading for the high only he could give you. A high that had not been reached with him, though one that had remained in the back of your mind since the day you laid your eyes on him. “Stop teasing me.”
Gojo gazed up at you through your parted legs, a smirk carving into his features. A fervent need suddenly passed between the two of you.
"As you wish..." The sorcerer whispered, standing back up, stroking his length as he eyed your region that was now dripping with his spit and your precum. You knew he was toying with you, moving painfully slow, eyes flickering back to yours with every moment, getting off on the way your face contorted with pleasure.
And at that moment, it was the first time you and Gojo came together as one.
"Gojo!" You cried softly, gasping in pain as his length penetrated your most sensitive spot, pushing in slowly, letting your insides adjust to his massive size. "Shit..." You cursed, squeezing his biceps for support as you felt him slide in farther, bottoming out in the next breath.
Through desperation of a high, you pulled him closer, desperate to hold onto something to ease the pain of his gigantic shaft, burying your face into the crook of his neck. At your moans, Gojo began to thurst, relishing in the sensation of your walls tightening around him. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath, feeling on top of the world, feeling like he was in the dream he had always wanted to be in.
"Y/N..." He whispered your name in a strained voice, the veins in his neck defining as he resisted the darker urges threatening to creep into reality.
Your hands moved to snarl into his hair, bringing his face next to yours, flattening his body against yours. “Gojo…” You whimpered his name desperately, breasts bouncing up and down from his sensual movements, his ravishing desire threatening to push you over the edge. Allowing yourself to be consumed by it, you could hardly feel him paw at your chest, tilting your head back as your body became limp.
"Say my name again..." Gojo groaned, his thrusts sliding deeper and his breath becoming heavier. "Nobody will hear you but me sweetheart..."
The man began to pound into you, shaking your entire body, shaking the entire bed. You were so flustered that you couldn't seem to focus on anything except the sound of his skin slapping against yours, your moans and whimpers for more echoing in his ear, pushing him to continue his lethal pace.
Gojo slid fully out and then back in, and with one swift motion, you felt your body convulse. "Ah!" You gasped, nails digging into his bulging arms wildly. "Gojo... Fuck!"
"Yeah..." The man moaned, leaning down and resting his head back in the crook of your neck. "Just like that baby..." He mumbled, the nickname sounding so dirty upon his lips, everything he said sounded as if he was casting a spell to make you fall deeper in love with him, if that was even possible.
"Gojo...” you repeated his name as if it was a dream, as if he might leave you at any moment. “I love you…” You choked out between gasps, the pleasurable feeling building stronger and stronger below your abdomen. You couldn’t take the heat any longer, especially when he called you baby, when you opened your eyes and looked into his own. “I’m gonna cum…”
"Cum on me..." Your boyfriend encouraged, looping his arms under your waist and hoisting you up into his arms. Your lips met him in a kiss, one that was sloppy and rough, but one that sent a wave of burning passion down your spine.
“I love you…” You whimpered with each gasp. “I love you Gojo, only you can make me feel…”
“I know.” He grunted, shifting your weight completely into his grip. Your body left the bed, and for support, you looped your arms around his neck, your legs wrapping around his waist.
Gojo leaned forward, providing him the perfect angle to let himself slide back in. You gasped, your eyes squeezing shut from the intense amount of pressure. "Oh my god.." you lamented, grasping his shoulders for support. You sunk down on him until it was painful, until you were full with his twitching length once again.
You were dripping, making it easy for Gojo to thrust as softly as he could. He gripped your ass, cursing loudly as you bounced against his cock. You moaned his name over and over again, a stream of curses following as your body began to tremble on the verge of your inevitable orgasm.
“That’s it.” Gojo encouraged, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Come all over me like I know you want to.”
His pace gradually gained speed, causing you to lose yourself completely. For support, your arms reached up to curl around his neck, one hand finding basis in his hair and the other digging into his shoulder blade.
"Gojo!" You whimpered loudly, on the verge of screaming out in pleasure, the motion and the length of his cock sheathed inside you becoming too much to handle in the helpless position. “I’m cumming…” You threw your head back, choking out the confession as your thighs twitched in response.
"That’s it… you’re so fucking tight." Gojo grunted through clenched teeth, sweat beginning to gather on his forehead from his erratic, yet rhythmic movements. Though you had become limp from your orgasm, he continued his pace, his thrusts became harder and faster, both of your moans mixing in with the others as Gojo started to reach his high. "Say my name.." The baritone in his voice sent shivers down your spine.
"Gojo..." You whined at the feeling of him so deep inside you, each plunge causing your entire body to bounce violently against him. Barely having time to recover from your last orgasm, you felt yourself climbing higher and higher, your walls tightening. "Gojo...oh my god!!" You finally yelled, unable to control yourself from the quick pace, causing you to orgasm once again all over his cock.
“Yeah…Fuck yeah.” The sorcerer groaned in ecstasy.
You moaned loudly, squeezing onto Gojo with all your might as you released yourself onto his thick cock. "Oh my god..." You whined, the pressure finally fading away so you could catch your breath, despite your climax he refused to stop.
He wasn’t finished with you yet. The two of you fell back against the bed, your legs being thrown back over his shoulders.
"Fuck," He moaned, his forehead beating with sweat. "Keep moaning my name, I'll make you cum again."
"Gojo..." You drew him closer, bodies moving together in sync.
Your face displayed the sexiest, most alluring expression he had ever seen. Gojo was breathless as he pumped in and out of you. He grit his teeth as the indulgence became unbearable, your walls contracting all around him for one final time.
Gojo loved you... he was lost in your beauty. He wanted to marry you, he wanted you all for himself. Was this what love felt like? He could really get used to it...
"P-Please..!" Your moans snapped him back fully. You were scratching his skin, wanting to burst at the feeling he gave you. "Baby..." You bit your lip, gripping his wrists as he reached forward to pinch your nipples.
Your breath hitched and you locked eyes for the final moment, the same stunning pair of blue, a pair you felt you would always get lost in, eyes that held and promised a fascinating future. His gaze held yours as he pounded over and over, jolting your body in tune. Gojo twitched inside of you, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier. Your eyes widened, your back arching against the bed as you climaxed together. "Pull out!" You begged.
You didn’t want the penetration to end, but Gojo pulled out at the last possible second, moaning as he coated your breasts with his cum.
"Fuck..." He drawled, watching your chest rise and fall slowly, his juices glistening against your skin, your hair fanning out above your shoulders, eyes dazed and entranced.
Gojo could tell you were exhausted, so he took the liberty of reaching over to the bedside table and plucking a tissue from the box. After he wiped himself off of your chest, he collapsed on the bed right next to you, eyes closed, but a faint smile upon his face.
He leaned over to kiss you gently. You were trembling but kissed him back just as passionately as the first. "That was amazing..."
Gojo exhaled in agreement, wishing this moment would never end. A moment that was so blissful, so self-serving that he had temporarily forgotten the list of responsibilities that was waiting for him the second his left the bedroom.
But for now, he would lose himself in all that you had to offer. And what you offered was forever commitment, what you offered was something he would never be able to find anywhere else.
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Ѕтдсч'ѕ Мом | Рдгт Тшо
ɴᴀᴛᴀsʜᴀ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴏғғ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ:
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Nat has you all to the herself just the for weekend. And she’s gonna take every second for granted.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: milf!nat again bc i luv her, so major age gap (reader 21+), pool sex, stacy almost catching y’all, somnophilia/waking the r up with sex, tiny tiny bit of angst
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: I’m having writer’s block atm but i did have this in the back of my head. Might do a part three?
The white sunshine woke Nat from her peaceful sleep slightly irritating her but when her eyes landed upon your tranquil form beside her, she forgot what put her in a bad mood in the first place. She brushed the hair from your face listening to the quiet snores with a small smile on her face.
Last night was incredible for her. She couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful you looked under her; squirming and whining as she drilled her hips into you. She hadn’t remembered the last time she’d shared her bed with someone she cared about. You made her feel young again. Reminded her what it felt like to be desired, to be craved by another woman again.
She couldn’t resist her hands roaming across your soft belly pulling you closer to her warm body. She kissed the side of your head down to your ear nibbling softly on your earlobe making your stir in your sleep. You turned your head to face her and she brushed her nose along yours before pulling away to see a faint smile on your sleepy face.
A mischievous idea popped into the older woman’s head and before she could dwell on it much longer she moved her body down your naked one before settling between your thighs. She hadn’t gotten a taste like she had wished for last night but this would be the first of many times she was going to get to.
She kissed your hips and gently caressed the inside of your thighs softly. Your knees pushed back subconsciously allowing her to settle more comfortably. She leaned down kissing the inside of your thighs softly pulling sighs and moans from you already. She kept her eyes trained on you as she licked your pussy.
Your hips wiggled and bucked forward into her mouth; your sighs and whimpers grew louder at the feeling. You thought you were dreaming. Feeling the older woman between your thighs felt surreal. You woke up hazy quickly registering the beautiful redhead that buried her tongue deep inside you.
Your hands found home in her red and blonde locks that you spent many nights dreaming about tugging on. Her big green eyes were trained on yours with nothing but a mischievous and lustful glint in them. She inserted a finger past your folds; it felt cold and soft. Your body unable to resist shuddering.
"Nat," you sighed, keeping your fingers buried in her long locks.
"доброе утро," she hummed against your skin making your stomach tighten with pleasure.
She skillfully added another finger stretching you out just a bit but nowhere near as much as her cock did the night before. She spread your folds with her outer fingers before leaning down again flicking her tongue against your bundle of nerves. She moved her fingers quicker in and out you wrapping her lips around your clit sucking harshly.
"Fuck, that feels so good, mommy," you whined, wiggling your hips wildly.
Nat brought her forearm up, resting firmly on your hips to steady your wild movements. She didn't slow down her pace as you got closer and closer to your release. Your moans grew louder as did your whimpers and whines. Your body shook in pleasure as you fell over the edge, crying Nat's name in ecstasy.
You slowly came down from your high in a pan`ting mess. Your skin felt hot and sticky, the sheets clinging on to you. Your tummy flipped and fluttered when you laid your eyes on Natasha. She brought her fingers up to her lips sucking lewdly on them keeping her eyes trained on you slowly crawling back over your body.
"Good morning, красотка," she hummed against your lips before kissing you properly.
"What a way to wake a girl up," you giggled, cupping her face in your hands.
"Sorry, I couldn't help myself. You just looked so fucking sweet lying there, practically waiting for me to ruin all over again," she whispered huskily.
"Nat," you breathed out.
"Y/n," she whispered with just as much desperation in her voice as yours did.
Reality struck suddenly. This was the mother of one of your closest friends, your best friend. she practically twice your age and here you were naked in her bed while her daughter was away. This was so inappropriate. What would happen if you were to get caught by Stacy, finding her best sleeping with her mom? She would kill you, never trust you again.
"This is wrong," you turned your head away.
"Then why does it feel so good? So right?" she ran nose along your jaw and around the shell of your ear.
"Fuck," her cold fingers grazed your soft skin making you burst into chills.
"Just for the weekend, please," she begged.
"Let me have you all to myself for the weekend and when Stacy comes back, we can pretend this never happened. I promise."
"Nat," you whispered.
"Please," Nat begged.
"Just for the weekend?"
She nodded with sadness in her eyes. You pressed your lips to hers momentarily before Nat slowly crawled out of bed. She disappeared into the bathroom quickly coming back out with a fluffy white robe wrapped around her beautiful body. She was ready to walk out but stopped in the doorway turning back to you with a coy smile.
“What do you want for breakfast, baby?”
The day went by and Nat refused to take her hands off you. Making breakfast ended with you on your knees, head between her thighs as she patted your head drinking from her mimosa; of course having to put that down and steady herself from how good your tongue felt. Having lunch ended with your hands tied behind your back bent over the couch as she pound her faux cock into you from behind. And it hasn't even surpassed one pm.
The sun shone brightly and you and Nat dressed to spend a couple hours by the pool. She wore a stunner leopard print bikini that you couldn’t help but gock at. She wore a straw sun hat and carried a small book with her. Her curves and long legs on display made your tummy fluttered. You felt unimpressive and somewhat self conscious wearing a simple white bikini.
“Such a beaut,” she smiled, pressing her lips against yours. Well, that certainly made you feel better. She walked hand in yours outside, settling down on a lawn chair. She pulled you on top of her, your knees falling either side of her hips. Her delicate hands rubbed softly over your thighs and hips to cup your cheeks.
“God, I could just kiss you all day,” she grinned.
“Really taking this weekend for granted aren’t ya?” you giggled.
“If this is the only time I get to pretend you're mine, I'll take every second I have for granted,” she whispered.
You looked into her teary eyes, tears building up on your own. It’s not that you didn’t want her just as bad, what will people say if a very popular and successful billionaire business woman in New York City was found dating a significantly younger woman, her daughter’s best friend to be exact, she’d be torn to shreds by the public. That’s not fair to her, or to Stacy.
“I- I’m gonna take a dip,” you smiled softly. Nat could see the cogs whirring in your pretty little head but she knew it wasn’t something to talk about right now; so she didn’t push.
“Kiss,” she pulled you back to her.
You smiled in the kiss before walking over to the pool swaying your hips a little extra knowing she’d be eyeing you up and down. Nat bit her lip and watched you slowly walk into the pool soaking your gorgeous skin that practically glowed under the sun. She knew what game you were trying to play so she shoved her face in her book for the time being.
A few moments went by and you just relaxed by the edge of the pool soaking in the sun and the view that the backyard gave you. You turned your head to look for Nat seeing as this had probably been the longest she’d gone today without taking you in some way, but she wasn’t lounging where she had been for the last twenty minutes.
“Miss me already?” she said walking back outside with two drinks in her hand and a smirk on her face.
“Well, considering you haven’t tried to jump my bones for the tenth time today I was beginning to get worried you might’ve gotten tired of me,” you retorted.
“Hon, I could never get tired of you,” she handed you the glass.
“What is it?”
“Just a pina colada,” she smiled.
“You don’t strike me as a woman who likes to drink pina coladas,” you grinned taking a sip.
“Well, no. I’m Russian. I like vodka; straight,” she said with a thick heavy Russian accent, making you giggle.
“But lucky for you, I’m not,” she wiggled her brows making your eyes widen momentarily before bursting into laughter.
“That was a good one,” you giggled.
“Come here,” she chuckled.
You pressed your lips against hers moving perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. She pressed your back against the edge of the pool slipping her tongue last your lips. She caged you in her arms and yours wrapped around her small waist pulling her body flushed against you.
“God, so fucking sweet,” she whisepred tasting the remnants of the fruit drink you just drank.
Her fingers dipped in the water tracing the waistline of your bikini bottoms. She curled her finger over them pulling them down and you watched them float to the surface gasping when her finger grazed between your thighs.
"красотка, I can feel how wet you've gotten. And I know it's not the water," she nibbled on your earlobe.
"Oh, Nat," you moaned breathlessly.
She pushed her finger past your folds, instantly feeling your walls clench with need. She circled your clit expertly with her thumb, pressing her lips back on yours desperately. You brought your hands up and playfully flicked her sun hat off before wrapping your arms around her neck, arching your chest into hers.
Your leg wedged between her legs and she slowly grinded on your thigh. Her lips went to your neck softly sucking and biting the delicate skin as her fingers moved quicker and quicker stroking your velvety walls perfectly, chasing your release for you.
That was something you quickly noticed about her. Nat was an extreme giver. She always went out of her way to make you come undone for her. You had tasted her already but you had yet had a chance to have your own way with her. As much as the thought alone made you tingle, she always beat you bending you over whatever surface was available, the bed, the couch, the counter, anywhere taking you however she deemed appropriate from behind.
"Shit, I'm gonna- Fuck!" you squeaked.
"Come on, baby. Come all over mommy's fingers. Look at me," she demanded, her hips grinding wildly along your thigh chasing her own orgasm too.
You stared intimately into her eyes as your stomach tightened and your legs shook. If you weren't floating between the wall and her body, without a doubt your knees would've buckled sending you to the floor. You grip tightened around her neck pulling her forehead against yours as you felt yourself topple over the edge. Your body reaches nirvana as you cry her name.
Nat watched you with pure adoration and an open mouth as she came on your thigh. When you both eased back to reality her lips immediately found themselves back on yours. You breathed heavily through your nose and when she pulled away you couldn't help but chuckle.
"You're addicted to kissing me," you giggled.
"I can't help it, красотка. Taste so sweet," she bit her lip.
"Let me grab some towels, baby."
Nat went inside leaving wet footprints along the house. She'll clean that up later. She grabbed a bundle of towels for you after putting on her fluffy white robe she usually wore. You stayed in the pool still breathing heavily waiting for her to return with those towels. Seeing as the pool wasn't necessarily as 'clean' as it was moments ago you opted to just get out and wait on a chair instead.
Suddenly, on her way back to the pool the front door opened and Stacy and her boyfriend walked in arguing. Nat's eyes widened and she looked at you who stood butt naked in her pool. You heard the two's sudden appearance, freezing in fear before realizing you needed to get dressed before either one catches you.
You jumped back in the pool treading the water to grab your bottoms that practically floated away and Nat tried her best to distract them for the time being until you were decent.
"Hi, you two are back so soon?" Nat said with a bit of annoyance in her voice.
"Jason booked the hotel room for one night instead of three," Stacy said frustratingly.
"I didn't mean to," he responded shyly.
"Can Jason just stay with us for the rest of the weekend?" Stacy asked.
"Sure," Nat sighed.
"Is everything ok, mom?"
"Yeah," No it's not.
You put your bottoms on overhearing the conversation. Your heart sank. Was it over? Did your glee filled weekend with your forbidden love end already? You looked sorrowfully at Nat who too looked to be in complete frustration and anger.
“Did I interrupt anything?” Stacy chuckled clearly joking but unbeknownst to her she really did.
“Oh, no. We were just tanning by the pool,” Nat shrugged with a half hearted smile. You hesitantly walked towards Nat seeing as she still held all the towels. You could still feel her; her lips on your neck, her fingers between your thighs, her core grinded against your thigh, her breasts pressed against yours, fuck. Fuck Stacy and her boyfriend coming home early.
“What happened?” Jason asked passing by you towards the pool.
“What do you mean?” Nat asked, handing you the towel.
“There’s something gooey, like white slime in the pool,” Jason called out and your eyes widened; you came pretty hard in Nat’s fingers but you didn’t know it was that much.
“We uh… we were having a drink, spilled some in the pool. Hence why we’re getting out,” Nat lied.
“Want me to call a pool guy?” Stacy asked.
“The filter should take care of it,” she waved off.
“Are, uh- are you kids hungry?” Nat redirected the conversation.
“Starving,” Stacy chuckled.
Stacy and Jason went to the kitchen leaving you and Nat alone for a minute. You couldn’t say anything afraid your voice would betray you. You went to leave, accepting that this fantasy you indulge the past twenty four hours, the best twenty four hours you’ve ever had, was over.
“Y/n,” Nat grabbed your arm as you tried to walk away.
“The weekend’s over, Nat. I’m sorry,” you whispered tears brimming your eyes.
“I’m gonna shower,” you said before walking away; Nat letting you go considering there wasn’t really anything else to say.
She went to the kitchen and opened the fridge grabbing some ingredients and placing them on the counter.
“What happened to Y/n?” Stacy asked.
“She’s gonna take a shower. She’ll be back,” she responded, still holding a solemn expression.
“Are you sure everything’s ok, mom?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)
ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (Natasha’s Fics)
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