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#I feel like one day Buck will stop feeling sorry for himself
luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 months
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The Husband Effect
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Summary: The reader is struck with a love curse that leaves her feeling more than a bit attached to Dean...
Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual)
Word Count: 2,200ish
Warnings: language, angst, love curse, fluff
A/N: Y’all don’t even want to know how old this fic is. Pretty sure it was written during S13. Figured it was time for it to see the light of day!
__________
“Y/N. Y/N. Giggling woman,” you heard Dean say, clapping his hands together. “Hey! Focus.”
“She’s cursed Dean,” said Sam with a smile. “It was some harmless witchcraft. It’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”
“Is she currently trying to climb into your lap? No?” said Dean, pointing at where he was continually shoving you back from him. “Y/N, stop it.”
“I wanna sit with you,” you whined, throwing your arms over his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against his.
“This is weird,” said Dean, trying to scoot away, Sam biting back back a laugh. “A little help, Sammy!”
“So she’s a little extra clingy. We’ll put her to bed, she’ll sleep it off and in the morning she can be completely embarrassed about this whole thing,” said Sam.
“Why would I be embarrassed about my Deanie?” you asked, squeezing him harder, Dean rising to his feet.
“Come on, Y/N. Off to bed with you. Now.”
“Good morning,” said Sam to you with a teasing smile. “Sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” you said, giving Dean a big hug when he came in the kitchen. “Good morning!”
“Oh no,” said both boys, grimacing as you smushed yourself into Dean’s chest.
“Get the jaws of life for this one,” said Dean, trying to squirm away while you clung tighter. “Y/N, please let go of me so I can eat breakfast.”
“I’m sorry,” you said releasing him, moving your hand down his arm to hold his hand. “That was silly. Your arms are huge by the way. All muscle and strong. They’re so...mmm.”
“Uh huh,” said Dean, giving Sam a death glare. “Sam, your harmless little curse don’t seem so harmless right now.”
“She should have slept it off,” said Sam, taking a seat at the table, Dean pulling you over into one, resigning himself to the fact he wasn’t getting the hand you were holding back anytime soon. “It must be a different curse.”
“No shit. Figure it out for me, would ya? It’s weird having Y/N act all...cuddly,” said Dean.
“Well, she is a girl, Dean,” said Sam.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.
“It means she likes hugs and you know, human affection...like a normal person,” said Sam. “You treat her like a guy sometimes.”
“Again, what does that mean?” asked Dean.
“It means when you tell her to buck up and kill the damn spider herself, she comes and asks me to do it. Or when you don’t help her with heavy stuff. She’s tough, don’t get me wrong, but I get the feeling she doesn’t think you care about her nearly half as much as she does you,” said Sam. “...Maybe that’s why she’s only sticking to you. It’s got something to do with that.”
“Y/N,” said Dean, your head lifting up with a smile. “You know I care about you, right?”
“Of course you silly boy,” you said with a smile, bopping him on the nose. “I love you different than Sammy is all.”
“See? She knows,” said Dean, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter.
“You’re so pretty,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes. 
“Hey, Y/N. Why don’t you eat breakfast and then Dean can spend the whole day with you while I figure out how to fix you, huh?” asked Sam.
“The whole day with Dean? That sounds amazing,” you said, leaning up and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek.
“Please hurry Sam.”
One Week Later
“I want Dean,” you grumbled as Sam brought your dinner by your room. “Please? I need him.”
“Dean’s researching right now, Y/N,” said Sam, locking up the door behind him, spotting your barely eaten lunch. “You need to eat, Y/N or Dean won’t be happy.”
“Why do I have to stay in my room? I’m not doing anything wrong,” you said, Sam sighing as he took a seat.
“You’re making it hard to research out there, Y/N. You...you’re kind of all over Dean,” said Sam. “He’s not used to attention like that and it’s making him uncomfortable.”
“But you love him and you get to be near him,” you said, scrunching up your face. “Tell him I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever he wants. I just want to see him. Please.”
“Sweetie, it’s the curse that’s making you all nuts for Dean, you have-”
“I always liked him and now that I came out and said it he’s scared of me. Tell him I take it back. I’ll really try to be better,” you said. 
“If you eat your dinner, I’ll talk to Dean about coming to see you, alright?” asked Sam, watching as you grabbed your fork. “Good girl.”
“Hi,” you said when you saw your door open, a pair of green eyes peeking in. Everything in you wanted to hop off the bed and run over to give him a hug but you said you’d try to keep it under control.
“Sam said you wanted to see me,” said Dean, hanging by the doorway, watching you start to fidget. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?” you asked, leaning forward and clenching your hands into fists.
“Just give me a hug before you have a heart attack,” said Dean with a sigh, your body responding before your brain, up and over to wrap him up in your arms. “Better?”
“No,” you said. “You don’t like it.”
“I’d rather have a hug because it’s real, not forced,” said Dean, moving your arms away. 
“It is real,” you said, cocking your head up at him. “I want to hug you.”
“No, the curse is making you think you want to hug me,” said Dean with a smile. “There’s a slight difference there, sweetheart.”
“But I love you. Everything I’ve said or done, I always want to do,” you said. “I just...don’t have a filter to say ‘don’t do that anymore.’”
“It’s a curse and we’ll solve it, alright?” said Dean. “I don’t want you to get upset about it. We’ll figure it out and get everything back to normal around here.”
“Dean,” you said, moving forward again, Dean already with a hand on the door.
“I promise, Y/N.”
“I don’t know why it didn’t work but you shouting at me doesn’t fix it!” yelled Sam, both boys in the middle of screaming at one another as you sat in the library, doing your best to stay in your seat.
“It’s been two weeks, Sam. Look at her. She’s barely keeping it together,” said Dean, waving over in your direction.
“If I was under a love curse and the other person resented me, I might start to get upset too, Dean,” said Sam. You got to your feet, forcing them to move away and for your bedroom, your movements slowing as you hit the edge of the library. “See?”
“I’m just going back to my room, Sam,” you said over your shoulder, frozen in place with the need to stay near Dean. 
“It’s got to be that spell. Figure out what you screwed up,” said Dean, his hand on your arm melting away your bubbling anxiety, replacing it with something soft and warm. Dean didn’t immediately leave when he got you back in your room, instead laying down on your bed, turning on your TV and throwing an arm behind his head.
“What are you doing?” you asked, sitting down next to him, curling into his side with a smile.
“I miss you,” he said, moving his arm around your shoulders, a rush of relief flooding you. “...I’ll take care of you. I know it hurts and yeah I’m not used to all this lovey dovey crap but I’m going to help you through it. If letting you crawl all over me makes you feel better, we’ll do that.”
“Hey, bozos,” said Sam, standing at the end of your bed, stirring you awake. “I didn’t mess it up. It’s on a time delay.”
“Well,” said Dean with a yawn. “How long until it works?”
“Judging by the look on Y/N’s face, it already did,” said Sam. You were glancing at your lap, sitting as far away from Dean as possible. “Are you...”
“I want to be alone, please,” you said, Sam nodding his head and leaving. “You too Dean.”
“It’s okay, it was just a curse,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I told you two weeks ago, Dean,” you said, turning your head over your shoulder. “I don’t love you and Sam the same way. It was a love curse, Dean. All I was trying to do this whole damn time was to make you feel loved.“
“I do feel loved,” said Dean.
“You don’t get it. This isn’t something I can explain to you, Dean. Either you get it or you don’t and you obviously don’t so please give me some space today,” you said.
“I get it,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist and spinning you to face him. “It’s been very clear to me since this whole thing started. I don’t want you to want me though.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me. It’s my life,” you said, trying to shake him off. “Dean...”
“It’s different when’s it’s staring you right in the face and you can’t run away, right? To know that deep down that what someone is saying is true?” he asked.
“If you got hit with that curse, what are the odds that everything you’re spewing out is bull and you do want me but are too scared to say it,” you said. Dean was silent, dropping your hands as you nodded your head. “So what do you want to do about this?”
“If you want to...try, I guess I’m cool with that,” said Dean, shrugging like you were discussing dinner.
“Cool with it?” you asked.
“I ain’t turning into a Hallmark card anytime soon,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “But...your hugs aren’t so bad.”
“Ah, yes. Your definitely wooing me, Dean,” you said, shaking your head.
“Y/N, I’m trying,” said Dean.
“I know. We’ll...take it one day at a time.”
One Year Later
“Hey, you guys remember that freaky curse that made Y/N stick to you like glue?” asked Sam at lunch one day. 
“Yeah,” said Dean. “What about it?”
“Well...I translated another spell that references it,” said Sam. “It was used back in the day to help men find wives.”
“That seems like a douche move,” you said, leaning back against the wall, tossing your legs in Dean’s lap.
“No, no. Not like that. It was meant for when a guy loved somebody but was too shy or insecure to say something. If the person didn’t have a reaction, they didn’t feel the same way. If they did, then it sort of proved there was something there,” said Sam.
“It took you a year to find this out?” you asked, Sam shrugging. “Why do I feel like you’re lying Samuel...”
“You know, we never did find out who put such a strangely harmless curse on Y/N either,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you Sammy?”
“Not a clue,” he said with a smile, glancing back at forth. “Weird, right?”
“I’ll get my fiance to kick your ass you ever pull something like that again,” said Dean.
“I’m really good at kicking ass,” you said, Sam shaking his head.
“I got no idea what you guys are talking about,” said Sam, standing up with a stretch. “I think I’m going to go for a second run while I think about who could have ever done this to you two.”
“Want to destroy him later?” asked Dean, wearing a smirk once he was out of earshot.
“Of course. Not too badly though,” you said.
“Just a touch of destruction for our devious Sammy coming right up,” said Dean with a chuckle. “While we’re at it, it’s been a year since our first date tonight.”
“You got something special planned?” you asked.
“Obviously,” he said. “Mess with Sammy first though?”
“You read my mind.”
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hxltic · 2 months
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You thought he was innocent. You thought that by Megumi’s nonchalance, his lack of ability to hold eye contact, and his honest dismissal of your presence as a whole while you spoke to his best friend Itadori when you first met was a sign of shyness— especially considering he tries to ignore conversations he doesn’t find himself necessary to participate in.
When you did include him in the conversation, he glances up from the screen of his phone, then to his pink haired companion, then back to you. He nods at whatever you said with an almost imperceptible curl of his lips, remembering how Itadori told him to smile so he doesn’t come off as rude to new people.
Since then you became friends by proximity. When Itadori was doing anything worth making fun of, you’d find each others gaze, silently agreeing on how much of a dumbass he was sometimes, and literally this interaction over and over called for you two to become closer. When he did speak, there was a softness to his voice. His words aren’t harsh, and spoken gently, like if he were to deem you as not listening anymore, he’d stop speaking completely and return to whatever he was doing. That doesn’t happen of course.
Needless to say, he was deceiving. Those beautiful green eyes underneath strands of his long hair that was growing out by the day are completely, and utterly, deceiving.
Because now, as you do get farther and farther away from just kissing, his movements become fervent and laced with hunger. You were previously sitting criss-cross on top of the bed comforter. Now you’re falling backwards, a low-eyed Megumi stripping himself of the short-sleeved white tee he wore.
“Is this okay?” He’d confirm earnestly, voice still floating into the air as before despite the drop in tone. When you solidify yourself with a tug on the hair at his nape and the desperate roll of your hips, he relocates his focus down to your neck, leaving feather-light kisses that send fire all over.
And then you get past the teasing part, finally, and you decide to pamper him a bit. You’re laying on your stomach between his legs as he is sitting upright. He allows you to remove him from his boxer briefs.
The second you hold his length between your fingers, pleasuring him with a few experimental strokes and attaching your plush lips to his throbbing tip, his eyes roll into the back of his head.
“Oh god,” he groans, basking in the feeling of the suction, this never-felt-before sensation. You can conclude it’s his first time.
You hum back, “Mhmm,” just to provide a response.
It’s all great until the hands that clench the sheets come up to your hair and gather it into a makeshift ponytail. Megumi is always so sweet, no matter what. It’s then you realize he’s watching what you’re doing, not your own eyes, and there’s a curious, devious, emotion lurking behind them.
Suddenly there’s a force to the back of your head and your nose almost reaches his pelvis. Done so quick, it was as if he wanted to see what would happen, just once. His eyes shot open as he popped back into reality to check on you nervously.
“Shit sorry- I’m sorry.”
Staring up at him, blinking blankly, his nerves skyrocket at your next words but you wish to see that cold in his eyes again. Give him complete freedom to try out what he wants to, what you can tell he’s thought about more than once. You clear your throat and instruct him to do it again.
“Are you sure? I can—”
“—I want this to feel good for you. You can be rough with me.”
With him being the socially awkward one, you wear the pants in the relationship. So when he sees that determination in your eyes, he knows there’s nothing to stop it. “Just tap if you want me to stop.”
Back down you go. Like all the nervousness was just a fluke, he shoves your head down in a chase for the warmth of your throat. It pulsates around his shaft once you begin to gag, tipping his head back once more, a throaty groan leaving his mouth as his hips buck up.
He becomes more comfortable the more you seem to be actually okay with what he’s doing, and as he gets closer with every gluck and splutter, he begins speaking into the air. He can’t help it.
“Oh fuck, I love how your throat feels. Can you go even deeper? All the way?”
On cue, you choke with your nose in trimmed, dark hair, your nails digging red crescents into the skin of his thighs along with lines that will burn later. Spit dribbles past your lips and down to his balls. The boy you knew would despise the feeling, and honestly the entire messy sight in itself, but I guess that’s something new you learned.
“Take it,” he looks down at you with his brows furrowed angrily, and you see a completely different boy than the one you thought you knew. Your panties run damp. He slurs, “Take it all and hold it.” A headache forms with how fast he rolls your head up and down and the tight grip he has, then it stops for a moment as you regulate your breathing through your nose at the bottom before he tugs you right back up, allowing you to finally breathe. He grabs you firmly by the cheeks for a kiss. Even if his dick was in the farthest back of your throat.
Suddenly you’re rising with his lips, and his fingers are hooking under your thighs to drag you closer to him and onto your back, just how you were before you decided to spoil him. His cock is still wet and throbbing and leaking precum, on the verge of exploding, but he leaves it untouched.
He’s tugging your shorts and panties off at the same time. At first he stares pensively, basking in all the skin he’s seeing and what he’s going to do with it. He’s quick in the way he rolls your knees up and to your sides. It’s instinct for his hands to knead the plush of your thighs while he bends down to your center, kissing and biting around where you want him most.
“Tell me how,” he asks, his long eyelashes fluttering up to you.
Your response is “How what?” You completely forgot about his lack of experience.
“How to make it good for you.”
His marks on your body do not falter; the number only increases with the amount of time that passes. “W-well there’s a specific spot in the center that feels really good. You just kinda mess with that? I guess?” He watches your face redden and your eyes dart away as the broken sentences spill from your mouth.
“So…”
His hand releases your thigh and two of his fingers slowly slide up into your wetness, splitting your lips apart, and showcasing the bud to him. He knew female anatomy, that wasn’t the hard part, it was just whatever comes after that.
He comes forward and his tongue leaves his mouth, licking a solid stripe atop your clit, looking you dead in the eyes when they return to his once you feel it. The pink muscle flicks up over it a few times, eliciting a gasp and a whine at the sight from you.
When you don’t respond, he does it again, this time taking you into his mouth, just to release it, and take it back in. If your legs start to move he presses them back down, leaving your thighs caged by his palms and your hips shuddering. There’s a satisfying grunt when you tug his hair, unknowingly pulling it out of his face too.
Since then he twists his face in your pussy, slurping and holding your lips open for himself when he sees fit, just to make it easier for what he’s about to do next.
He drops both hands from your legs— trusting you to hold them open yourself— and relocates one hand to wrap around your throat and the other to sink two fingers inside of you. He may have started with one, but you both agreed you were past that. In the meantime, he never stops licking, forcing your eyes shut and your body to wriggle. “Mmmmnn.”
He curls his long fingers up out of half intention and half curiosity of what the inside feels like. It’s soft and padded and hot. When your back arches at the movement, he does it once more, until it’s continuous and he isn’t licking you anymore. Instead, he presses force to your throat while connecting his forehead to yours.
You blink up at him leisurely, quickly finding his eyes.
“Do you like it when I do that?”
You nod.
“Pussy is so wet and warm. Will it be that tight when I go in?”
It was kind of a genuine question, but not really.
“I love this look on you. You gonna come on my dick like a whore when you get the chance?” His voice rumbles through your core. He knows, because you instantly tighten around his fingers.
It was then he completely concluded you actually liked when he was mean or rough with you; you just didn’t want to push it because you didn’t think it was in his nature, and he didn’t want to push it because he didn’t think it was in yours.
“I’m close,” you force out.
“Yeah?” He nibbles on your ear lobe.
You nod, trying to pretend that word alone didn’t make you even wetter.
His thumb circles your clit while the ones curling inside speed up on your g-spot, all on the same hand, shaking your lower half up and down, and your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop—” your voice raises a pitch, and the ravenette tries his best to move during your orgasm, but your walls clenching him with a vice grip don’t allow him much. He watches in amazement when your eyes squeeze shut and your breathing becomes insanely irregular before him.
There’s slick, milky white covering his fingers when he does remove them, and he doesn’t think twice to shove them into his mouth.
You were watching him do it tiredly, but you hadn’t expected that to happen. You shot up onto your palms. “Megumi!”
He looks back at you. “What?”
He was already nose deep in there anyway.
©️hxltic
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itsthewritergal · 3 months
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don't tell Bucky - B.Barnes x reader
Summary: Reader is broke and refuses to tell mob!bucky the extend of it
TW: fluff, happy ending, little swears, mention of money, getting fired, (think that's everything)
ENJOY!!
:)
Y/N was used to the biting cold in her apartment, it had been a long few months with her hours being cut down and bills piling up she was in debt. Badly. She had started cutting costs where possible, heating was the first to go, she had opted for  not turning the heating on despite the freezing temperatures outside, food was the second thing to go, she had starting making meals stretch and eating less and slowly things seemed a little more manageable. The bills continued to pile up, yet things seemed a little easier. Every single penny was put to the side to clear her debt. She had been seeing Bucky as much as possible but she couldn’t talk to him about it, he would just offer to pay her debt off and then she’d owe him for almost the rest of her life. She couldn’t ask him. She wouldn’t. Bucky had picked her up from work, it was a surprise, and something Y/N was grateful for as she wouldn’t have to pay for the bus home. 
“Do you want to stay at mine tonight?” Bucky asked gently pressing a kiss to her cheek as they finished their heavy make-out session in the car 
“I’ve got work in the morning,” She said softly, breath slipping through her lips 
“Call in sick” Bucky said between kisses “You can go without one shift can’t you?” Bucky asked 
“We’re short staffed Buck, I need to be there” She lied easily, 
“Let me come in? I just want to hold you tonight” He said softly pressing another kiss to her lips. Y/N nodded in agreement, how could she ever say no to an offer like that? 
Bucky followed Y/N up the stairs to her apartment, she unlocked the door and was met by an icy breeze. Bucky shuddered. 
“Why is it so cold baby? Your heating broken?” He asked 
“Hmm?” Y/N asked turning around to face him 
“Your apartment Y/N, it’s cold” 
“Oh, sorry Buck I turned the heating off” 
“For good?” Bucky asked closing the door behind him “Or is it broken?” He asked
“Oh, no I just turned it off whilst I was at work” Y/N said softly, 
“Why would you do that?” Bucky asked again pulling Y/N into an embrace 
“It was just while I went to work Buck”
“That’s not safe doll, you should keep the heating on so you don’t get ill, even when you’re not home. You need to come into a warm house” Bucky said, Y/N resisted the urge to cry. 
“I usually do Bucky, it was just a one off” she said. 
Bucky didn’t mention the heating again that night. Y/N was grateful for that small mercy. What he did mention was the mountain of blankets that sat on her bed. 
“Doll?” He called from her bedroom 
“Yeah?” She replied coming into the bedroom, her eyes falling on Bucky’s metal hand clasping three blankets, 
“You coming down with something?” He asked “I can call Banner to come and check on you if you want?” 
“Oh Buck, no I’m ok. Just get cold when you’re not here” She said, it wasn’t a complete lie, just a small one. It made her feel a little better. 
“You know you could just move in with me?” Bucky offered 
“Don’t be silly Bucky, we’ve spoken about this” She said and Bucky stopped himself from starting an argument by pressing his lips to hers. 
— — — 
The next few weeks were tricky. Y/N had started picking up more shifts than she could count which lessened her time to do anything; most of all see Bucky. 
When one fateful day put Y/N’s life into a tailspin, 
“Y/N could you come into my office when you get a moment please?” Her boss’s voice cut through the noise, and Y/N felt a panic run through her body, 
“I’ll come now” She said quickly, hurrying behind the shorter lady, “is everything ok?” 
“Take a seat Y/N” She said, Y/N knew this wasn’t good, she never asked her to take a seat before, this had got to be bad news. 
“Have I done something wrong?” 
“No, Y/N you’re one of the best workers we have here” She said taking a deep breath “but we can’t afford to keep you on, with prices and wages going up we’re cutting down to less staff members and well it’s only fair that we let you go first. You’ve got enough experience to get another job quickly whereas the others don’t” 
“You mean the others are cheaper because they are younger?” Y/N said noticing the true meaning behind her words. 
“That isn’t what we are doing Y/N” her boss spoke halfheartedly 
“When do I leave?” Y/N asked dejectedly, knowing it was a loosing battle 
“Today’s your last shift, you are let go without holiday pay or leave notice” She said passing Y/N an envelope “All the necessary documents are in here, please hand your keys in at the end of the shift” 
“No need to wait” Y/N said, pulling her work keys out her bag and putting them on the desk. Picking up the envelope, Y/N walked out. 
The walk home was a cold one, not only because of the biting wind but Y/N felt empty, numb, like she’d just been caught in the rain. She wanted to call Bucky, but after her neglect of him she knew that he was probably mad at her and calling him to cry would not be the best way to go. However, her ringtone cut Y/N’s moping thoughts short, 
“Hello?” 
“Doll, oh thank god. Steve just told me he passed you on the street, he’s turning around to pick you up so don’t go anywhere. What’s happened?” Bucky asked 
“Nothing Buck, I’ll talk to you later, tell Steve not to worry” 
“No, he’s picking you up and you can come here or go home then come here, or just head home if that’s what you want but I’d rather Steve did it than you walk yourself doll okay?” He said 
“It’s going to happened whatever I say right?” Y/N chuckled halfheartedly, the lack of reply on Bucky’s end confirmed it “I’ll wait for Steve” 
“Good girl, I’ll see you soon” He said ending the call quickly. 
As if on cue Steve’s car pulled into view, 
“Hey Y/N, Buck’s waiting for you” He said opening the door for her, 
“Thanks Steve” 
After a few quiet minutes Y/N answered the question which was burning in Steve's mind, 
“I got fired” She said quietly, 
“They did what? Oh Buck won’t be happy, how dare they” Steve said forcefully, 
“They can’t afford me apparently” Y/N chuckled sadly 
“Bullshit” 
“Promise you won’t tell Bucky?” She asked 
“I won’t lie to him if he asks” Steve said “But I’ll divert attention so he doesn’t ask” Steve agreed quietly 
— — — — — 
Y/N had avoided Bucky for another two weeks, she hadn’t meant to. But she had been sending CV’s, babysitting, dog walking and selling small handmade bits online. Anything possible to make some money, she was yet to receive an interview or even any interest. It seemed that everyone was full of employees or was hiring younger staff, there was no place for Y/N. 
She had been dodging her landlord phone calls, and the electricity company and even a few others who she knew were angry that she hadn’t paid. Stretching her legs out wide on the floor she took a minute away from her laptop screen and picked up her phone. 
“I’m on my way, be there in 15” Bucky had texted around 15 minutes ago, Y/N let out a panicked sigh and started picking up the mess around her to try and make herself look presentable for Bucky, she had to keep up appearances. 
“Doll?” Bucky called through her apartment, 
“In here” She replied quickly shoving some dirty clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe, 
“Hey doll” He said softly pulling her in for a kiss, not seeming to notice her dishevelled state. 
“Hey Bucky” she pressed a kiss to his lips, something she had missed dearly. 
“I need to talk to you” Bucky said pulling her down to sit on the bed, she sat down with his hands gripped in hers as if he was about to disappear. 
“I know I’ve been awful Buck, I haven’t spoken to you and I’ve avoided you, please don’t be mad, I’ve just been so stressed and—”
Bucky quickly cut her off “I’m not breaking up with you Y/N” 
“You’re not?” 
“No, doll I’m not” 
“Oh” 
“I know what’s going on Y/N” he said sincerely 
“Nothing’s going on” 
“Doll I know” 
“Bucky nothing is going on”
“You got fired, you’ve been trying to find another job, you’ve been dog walking, which I’m not happy with because that’s dangerous when you don’t know the dog or the owner, and you’ve been selling your adorably little crochet animals online” Bucky said 
“You got someone to follow me” 
“You started shutting me out” Bucky justified 
“Fair enough” 
“Did I miss anything?” Bucky asked 
“No” Y/N said her eyes welling up with tears, she let go on Bucky’s hand to hide her face in them, 
“Oh doll, come here” Bucky said wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry all her stresses and troubles away onto his shirt, he knew once she had cried they would be able to talk through options properly. 
“I’m sorry” Y/N said with a sniffle 
“Can I finish what I was saying earlier?” Bucky asked, Y/N nodded silently “I’ve paid off all your debts, I did the landlord, electricity, water and that loan you took out, you can pay me back if you want to if you have the money, if not it’s my birthday present to you I know you won’t accept it any other way” He said 
“Bucky please”
“It’s already done” 
“I should be able to do this better,I  should be able to pay my fucking bills” 
“No” Bucky said calmly 
“No?” 
“No you’re not doing that. You are doing as best as you can. And I refuse to listen to that shit. Now put on a nice dress, we’re going out to eat” 
— — — — 
That night when Bucky and Y/N were laying in bed cuddled up to each other, Y/N decided to be brave 
“Bucky?” 
“Yes doll?” 
“Do you think I could move in with you?” She asked pressing a kiss to his chest “I don’t think I want to do this alone anymore” 
“Doll, I’d be delighted” 
2K notes · View notes
mellowsaturns · 11 months
Text
in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)
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BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER
summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.
warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action
wc: 4.7k
a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)
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Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.
And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.
Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.
On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.
Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.
“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”
He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.
One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.
You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.
With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”
The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.
“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.
But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.
Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”
Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.
On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.
Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.
Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”
He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”
Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”
After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.
The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.
Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.
But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.
Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.
Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.
How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.
Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.
During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.
Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.
You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”
He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.
His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”
When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.
“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”
“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”
He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.
He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”
You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”
“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”
He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.
“Let me talk to her. Please.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”
“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.
And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.
You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”
Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”
My darling.
For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.
The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.
You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”
Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.
There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.
You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.
“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”
He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.
“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”
Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.
“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”
“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”
In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.
You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.
He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.
Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.
They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.
During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.
And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.
Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.
He misses you. So damn much.
“Shut up,” you mutter.
He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.
“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”
“I’m sorry I left you with them.”
You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.
He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”
The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.
He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.
A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.
The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.
You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.
“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.
Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.
Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.
“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”
“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”
You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.
Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.
You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.
But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.
“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.
Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.
“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”
He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”
You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”
“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”
Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.
“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once—he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”
He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.
He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.
When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”
You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.
“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”
Twelve. Ember. Fragment. Nine. Academy. Order. Frigid. Yearning. Blue.
Those were your trigger words.
“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.
Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.
Blue.
You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.
At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.
“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”
He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”
You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”
Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.
“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”
And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.
You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”
Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.
He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.
Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.
“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.
Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.
He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”
Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.
“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.
There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.
You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.
But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.
He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.
The blond raises his arms up in surrender.
“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.
“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.
Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”
You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.
Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.
A new beginning awaits.
3K notes · View notes
hysteria-things · 2 months
Note
can you do a sub matt smut?
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ICE COLD POOL
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt is your best friend. you and his brothers decide to take a dip in the pool, but you in a bathing suit makes him a little too excited.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, making out, semi-public, oral (male receiving)
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 773
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this song kinda has something to do with this fic but also doesn’t?? idc i love wallows more than life🫶
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the pool water felt cold on your skin, but for a hot summer day like right now, it was perfect.
you’ve known the sturniolo’s for a while now, and over the years you guys have become much closer. the four of you are currently at the steep end of the pool chatting and drinking some sodas.
nothing too fancy, but it’s always nice to have a get-together from time to time. you’re standing next to matt while chris and nick are across from you.
matt couldn’t help but check you out a few times as the hang-out went on. you’re wearing a red bikini. nothing too revealing, but matt finds it attractive nonetheless. maybe a little too attractive; because he can’t stop shifting in his spot.
“i’m going to head inside for a few but i’ll be back.” nick announces to the group, getting out of the pool by hoisting himself up on the ledge. “need to check something on the vlog camera.”
“okay.” you smile as your friend walks away.
chris clears his throat. “i need to piss.” that’s all he says while following nick’s actions.
“you’ve been quiet.” you start, turning your head to matt who’s staring into space. “everything okay?”
“yup.” he smiles nervously, shifting his body like what he’s been doing. you tilt your head, unamused with matt’s lie. you scan down his body until you get to his swim trunks. it’s hard to see because of the water’s ripples, but there’s a visible tent on the blue fabric. “matt—”
“i’m sorry.” he panics. he starts walking to the stairs, but you grab his wrist to stop him. “matt,” you repeat.
his eyes look at your lips for a beat. you cup his neck and pull him into a kiss. he doesn’t kiss back right away since this was so sudden, but he soon gets into it.
he grabs your hips to pull you closer. you smirk when you feel his boner brush against your legs. you guys don’t know when nick and chris will be back, but it has to be soon.
matt’s breathing starts to quicken as his dick twitches. he moans into your mouth, pulling away abruptly. his face is pale from embarrassment.
he just came in his shorts.
“i-i’m sorry.” he stammers. “i need to use the bathroom.”
he starts going up the steps but you stop him once more. your body is still in the pool while he is now sitting on the ledge.
despite the water making his swimsuit wet, you can still see the stain and his still-hard boner. “looks like it hurts.” you tease.
he stares into your eyes as he frowns. you keep eye contact when you start to untie his shorts, pulling them down just to his thighs. he hisses when his swollen cock finally springs free. he’s been hard for way too long.
you flatten your tongue at his tip. he flinches at the contact, but eases when you start to move your tongue in kitty-licking motions. he moans and grips so hard to the concrete next to him that his knuckles turn white.
you start to lick faster, but you stay at his tip. he doesn’t look away from your eyes until something clicks in his head. he looks around in panic, nervous that his brothers will be back any second.
“stop looking at me like that,” he whines.
you know he can cum from just you staring and toying with his tip because of how sensitive he is. you then start to kiss and suck on him.
matt bites his lip and throws his head back, whimpering as his hips buck up a little.
even though he’s not staring at you, you never take your eyes off of his gorgeous face. “please.” he gasps. “i need to cum.”
you continue what you’re doing, more moans and whines leaving matt’s mouth when one last buck of the hips has him cumming on your lips. “shit.” he pants.
you kiss up his chest until you get to his lips so he can taste himself. he moans at the feeling. “chris got distracted. sorry guys.” nick’s voice echoes from the back door. matt quickly pulls up his swimsuit and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
his brothers get back into the pool and luckily they don’t suspect a thing. nick starts ranting about god knows what, but matt keeps staring at you.
he wants to say something, knowing he can’t. all you do is smile seductively and wink, and matt’s cheeks can’t help but turn a maroon.
he wishes his brothers never came back outside.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss
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sam24 · 3 months
Text
Man on a Mission
Summary: Apparently, someone called Bucky's girl a whore. He has now made it his life's mission to find out who.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
*****
Bucky sat at the kitchen island, eyes narrowed, leg bouncing, and the same scene from last night replaying in his head.
Bucky drew random patterns on your bare shoulder, his nose buried into your hair. You were being quieter than usual, but he knew you were awake as he could feel your hands fidgeting.
He didn’t want to press you to tell him about it, so he settled on making you feel as loved as possible, pressing kisses into your hair.
Suddenly, you broke the silence, taking Bucky by surprise.
“Buck . . . do you think I’m a whore?”
“Wha-” Bucky lifted his head immediately, trying to look at you. But you hid your face in your hands, turning away from him.
“God don’t look at me. Fuck, this is so embarrassing,” You groaned into your hands. “Forget I said that.”
“No, honey, look at me please,” Bucky gently pulled your hands down, cradling your face. “Who called you that?”
“No, no, no one,” You shook your head frantically. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“No, sweetheart, who- okay we’ll get back to that later. But you are not a whore, okay? No woman deserves to be called that in the first place. Who-”
“No, no one. I was just . . . I just randomly thought of it.”
Bucky wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide.
For now.
“Well, I don’t want you thinking these things about yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”
You nodded, seeming relieved and a little surprised that he dropped it that easily.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
It was now the next morning, and you were at the gym with Natasha, which gave Bucky the perfect opportunity to figure out who to murder.
Steve walked into the kitchen with Sam trailing behind.
“Morning Buck.” Steve greeted. His head stuck into the fridge, trying to look past the shit ton amount of edible cookie dough you had made a couple days earlier.
“How come you didn’t come run with us, you lazy fat ass.” Sam teased, leaning on the island.
“Didn’t feel like it.” Bucky narrowed his eyes.
Suspect 1: Sam Wilson, The Most Annoying Bird Alive
Sam had a tendency to poke fun at people, but some might not take it as well as others. For example, when a barista burst out in tears last week when Sam joked about her being “all over the place” with all the orders coming in. (He came in with flowers the next day)
Bucky wondered if Sam had said something that was supposed to be funny, but you didn’t think it was and got upset.
A part of Bucky wanted to settle on Sam so he had an excuse to beat him up, but the more rational side of him realized that you had gone on one too many missions with him to think he was being serious about anything he said.
Tony then came in, holding a bunch of empty coffee mugs in his hand, practically throwing them into the sink.
“Bruce said my mugs were ‘taking up too much room’ in the lab,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Well why doesn’t he try being the goddamn genius backbone of this team.”
Bucky stared at him intently.
Suspect 2: Tony Stark, The Dick Who Can’t Set His Metal Rock Music Lower Than 98
Tony had a tendency to snap easily, especially when he was low on sleep (which was basically all the time). Everyone usually steered clear of Tony when he was moody, because he would most definitely say the meanest things, but not really mean any of it.
Bucky tried to think if it was logical that Tony would snap at you and say something. However, he came to the conclusion that even if Tony had said something, you had known him for too long to take his sleep-deprived words to heart.
“What are you looking at, Winter Schnitzel?” Tony challenged, noticing Bucky staring at him.
“Nothing.” Bucky replied, his stare shifting over to his best friend, who was grinning in amusement, but still trying to find something to eat that wouldn’t give him diabetes.
Suspect 3: Steve Rog-
Bucky stopped himself, almost laughing at himself for thinking Steve would ever call a woman a whore.
Even though you always kept the fridge full of random items you would make, Steve would never say a single bad thing about you.
For now, Bucky was stuck.
⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃
6 hours later, and Bucky was still stuck.
You and Peter were out (God knows where), which was another perfect chance for Bucky to think.
But the problem was he couldn’t think of anyone.
Everyone in the compound adored you, so Bucky couldn’t figure out who the hell would deliberately say something to make you upset.
He dragged his shoes across the floor, cursing Steve in his head for making him go on a “stroll” because he apparently looked “pent-up”.
There was no way in hell Bucky would walk around outside, so he opted to take a walk inside, using Mother Steve’s demand to his advantage to scout out potential targets.
He halfheartedly glanced around the floor, stopping when his gaze landed on you.
He immediately grinned, not caring about the fact he probably looked crazy, and started his way over to where you were.
You were talking to someone with a bag in your hand. Bucky remembered you saying something about picking up a dress from the store for your friend. Peter was next to you, and for some reason, puffing his chest out?
But, as Bucky got closer, he realized you were talking to Jacob, the little dickwad who couldn’t take no for an answer,
“How many times do I have to tell you? Get out of my way. I’m trying to get this to someone.” Bucky heard you snap, tuning in with his enhanced hearing.
Bucky stopped, trying to assess the situation and figure out if you would appreciate him stepping in or not.
He knew you didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, but his overprotective side rippled through his body, his jaw clenching and fists balling.
“Baby, stop acting- “Jacob was cut off with a sharp slap.
The little bastard was taken by complete shock.
Meanwhile, Peter was still trying to look as intimidating as possible.
“Jacob, what the hell is your problem? I’ve told you to leave me alone more times than I can count. How fucking thick is your skull?”
Jacob was about to reply, with probably something bitchy, but he caught sight of Bucky in the corner with the most murderous glare and stopped himself.
He instead looked down and stepped to the side, giving you and Peter room to go.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Beat it.” Peter growled in the most non-threatening way possible as you two left, giving Bucky the perfect chance to slide in before Jacob could hightail out of there.
“Barnes.” Jacob greeted, clearing his throat.
“Callaway.” Bucky’s blood boiled at how differently he treated other men than how he treated women. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect a lady?”
Before Jacob could reply, his equally dumb friend, Brody, walked past the two men.
“Damn, Jake. Barnes finally here to beat you up for calling his girl a whore?”
Bucky and Jacob both stared at Brody.
Jacob looked sickly pale, and Bucky looked calmly terrifying. Clear sign he was fucking enraged.
“Oh shit-” Brody finally put the pieces together, practically sprinting away.
Bucky turned back to face a petrified looking Jacob.
“So,” Bucky reached out, fixing Jacob’s tie and smoothing down his collar. “It was you, huh?”
Jacob tensed under Bucky’s touch.
“Chill pal, I just wanna talk.”
⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃
A bruised cheek, wet underwear, and hurt ego later, Jacob’s talk with Bucky was over.
Bucky threw his feet up on the ottoman, but not before telling Friday to make sure Jacob was apologizing to you, as instructed by Bucky himself.
He patiently waited for you on the couch, a wide grin appearing on his face as you walked in and cuddled up next to Bucky, but not without pressing a kiss to his lips first.
Halfway through the movie, you turned to look at Bucky.
“Thank you,” You smiled.
“For what, doll?”
You turned back to face the movie, a smile playing at your lips. “C’mon. I know that was you. He would never apologize on his own will.”
Bucky laughed, turning you around once again to pepper kisses all over your face.
“I love you, my little smartass.”
“I love you too, pops.”
Mission accomplished.
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littlespoonevan · 14 days
Text
i'll keep it all to myself
7x04 coda (she's back, baby xoxo)
-
“Hey, killer.”
Buck winces, mouth already tripping over an apology as he moves into the Diaz living room. “Eddie, I’m so sorry-“
“Buck, I’m kidding,” Eddie interrupts, exasperated and just a little fond. He hasn’t been on the receiving end of that tone in a few days. It’s embarrassing to say he missed it. “Sit down.”
Buck takes the armchair instead of sitting on the couch next to Eddie. He’s not sure why. He never sits in the armchair. Sitting in it now he almost feels…off balance. But then catching sight of Eddie’s foot propped up on the coffee table sobers him immediately and he forgets all about the strange discomfort in his stomach.
Reaching for the cushion behind him, he gets up again. “You should have something under that,” he says, gently lifting Eddie’s leg to place the cushion on the table. He lowers it again carefully, nodding in satisfaction when Eddie’s foot is nestled safely in the cushion. “The table is too hard.”
“Oh sorry, I thought I was the one with real medical training,” Eddie quips but there’s no bite behind the words.
“Yeah but I’m the one with crush injury experience,” Buck says, kicking his own legs up on the table in proof.
Eddie opens his mouth as if to argue back but then closes it again, rolling his eyes, but his lips twitch a bit. Just at the corners.
“Eddie, I really am sorry,” he says, straightening in his seat and forcing himself to meet Eddie’s gaze properly. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just got so-“
“I know,” Eddie replies, quiet and careful and devoid of any of his earlier teasing. “But you know you can talk to me, right? Like, it’s me Buck. You can just tell me when something’s wrong.”
Buck does know that. He knows he can tell Eddie everything. Anything. The bad and the good.
Which means he should be able to clear this up right away, right? He should just be able to say, ‘Hey, I was apparently working through some latent feelings I never knew I had. And I took that out on you. But guess what! I like Tommy and he likes me back and we have a date Saturday!’
But thinking about telling Eddie that Tommy kissed him makes his chest constrict in a way that he doesn’t expect. So he tucks it up in a neat little box in the corner of his mind for now and focuses on making sure Eddie’s okay. Because he can do that. He knows how to do that.
“I’m an idiot,” he says. “And if you want I will totally give you one free punch so we’re even.”
Eddie huffs a quiet laugh. “I could never hit you.”
“Should I go get Christopher’s Legos instead and step on them with my shoes off?”
Eddie lets out a real laugh then, the kind that makes his eyes close and his head fall back against the couch cushion, and Buck feels so much affection for him well up inside him he’s almost breathless with it.
“You’re an idiot,” Eddie tells him. “And a martyr. Seriously, Buck, I don’t care. I just want to make sure you and I are okay.”
“Of course we are,” Buck says, without actually stopping to interrogate if that’s true or not.
They are, he thinks. The fact that something absolutely life altering happened to him an hour ago and he somehow can’t make himself tell Eddie about it is…inconsequential.
He’s just hedging his bets. Not trying to get ahead of himself before he has yet another failed romance.
“In that case, can you go to the fridge and get us some beers?” Eddie asks, pulling Buck back to reality.
“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Buck says, even as he stands. Maybe they can split a beer. Half a bottle shouldn’t hurt. “Tommy says you’re on pain meds.”
“Oh, so you guys talked?”
Eddie says it unassumingly and when Buck freezes at the dining table and looks over his shoulder he finds that Eddie isn’t even looking at him. He’s leaning forward on the couch, adjusting his leg, but when Buck takes too long to answer he raises his head and gives him an expectant look.
“Yeah,” Buck murmurs, the phantom rasp of Tommy’s stubble against his mouth still tingling and making him want to reach up and touch his lips. That would give too much away though. “We talked.”
Eddie smiles, nodding his approval. “Good. Maybe all three of us can actually hang out together now.”
The thought immediately makes Buck’s stomach swoop with something unnameable but he doesn’t let it show on his face.
“Sure,” he breathes. “Sounds great.”
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tteokdoroki · 8 months
Note
❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜ with isagi and any kink !!!!!!
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☆༉ — YOICHI ISAGI: 0-800-HOT GUY-HOTLINE.
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line. ❛ i’m sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.❜
extension. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. public humiliation, free-use, voyeurism + fem!reader, nsfw.
things to note. RAAA !!! luna im sorry this is so late but i was excited to do this one pls enjoy i missed isagi saur much !!!! <3
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your boyfriend, isagi, is sometimes prone to selfish tendencies.
being the japanese football league’s diamond in the rough and all-star player has meant that all the best and softest parts of him have become more rigged and hard around the edges. he takes what he can get, even if it means leaving other people behind — you have to be selfish to be at the top, it’s something that you understand. 
your boyfriend is never selfish when it comes to making you feel good. 
if yoichi can help it, he has you creaming on his tongue, fingers or cock at least twice a day when his games are at home. it’s almost double on the days that you visit him while he plays away or accompany him to tournaments. he can’t keep his hands off you, can’t stop himself from needing you or claiming you — his good luck charm. especially after he wins a match, even more so if he loses one. come rain or shine, isagi is selfish with how he teases and uses your body…even in front of his friends and fellow teammates.
“y-yo…yoichi s-stop!” you gasp, face hot and voice strained.
“stop? oh i don’t think so,” isagi growls, speeding up his skilled fingers as they dance over your slit and press his name into your clit. “i don’t think you want me to stop, precious. whatever happened to ‘yes, yoichi.’ ‘whenever you want, yoichi.’, hm?”
choking on your own words, the spit that weighs down your tongue as you drool dumbly from the pleasure — you relax back into your boyfriend, fluttering around the circumference of his leaky cock as it breaches your tight, wet walls. “good girl, relax for me. let me fuck that princess hole open, hm?” he kisses the side of your face, peering down between your soiled shaky thighs to watch the way you selfishly suck him in, your cunt dribbling slick down his shaft and balls. “i love you. so fucking much.” 
isagi’s hands slip up your shirt, exposing your perky nipples, all hard for him, to the rest of the van to see. his teammates, your friends. as far as locker room talk goes, all of the blue lock boys know that you and yoichi have a particularly wild and active sex life — but they’ve never been around to see it. except for bachira, and sometimes rin. 
from across the van you can see ten sets of eyes watching you as if you’re a fountain of cold water isn’t he middle of a scorching desert — a sweet mirage for them to drink in as if they’re dying of thirst. kunigami respectfully looks out of the window when he catches your teary bambi gaze, though he does nothing to conceal the fat erection he’s sporting. nagi writhes in his seat with pink cheeks and parted lips, the front of his joggers already soiled by his leaking cock. and if you squint hard enough, you can see the way that bachira already fists his painfully hard dick to the rhythm of isagi’s shallow thrusts. 
shame intertwines with the lust that simmers in your lower tummy, coursing through your veins and spreading like a cloud over the thoughts in your brain. you like this, you like being watched while your boyfriend ravages you in front of his friends, cream frothing at the base of his shaft as it twitches inside of you.
you’d be absolutely miserable right now if you weren’t getting fucked a million ways to cloud nine — isagi’s hand on your blistering hot mound, spreading your folds and exposing your budding clit to the cold world and cruel stares. “‘ichi,’” you whimper pathetically despite bucking your hips down on him, chasing the delicious burn of his girth stretching out your sloppy walls as his cockhead glides over your g-spot. “i-ichi please…’m embarrassed… they’re watching!”
“what’s that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.” he seethes, teeth sinking into your earlobe as he forces you to listen to the salacious, sticky sounds your pussy makes as he fucks himself into you. “listen to her cryin’ for me, you’re tellin’ me you want me to stop?” you can only imagine how long isagi would keep you on the edge of orgasm if you said yes. 
when he was like this, fuelled by his excitement for the next match — he would get mean, toy with you like a cat with a ball of yarn. he twists his fingers along your sensitive clit you, winds you up from the inside and you let him. “you’re so naughty, baby. letting them look, pretty girl. you want them to see what they can’t have. what winners get when they play right.” 
gasping, your head falls against isagi’s shoulder — followed by his breathy chuckle. his hands cascade along your body, pinching and pulling, tracing your dips and curves and scars. he might be selfish enough to take you in front of the people who know you more innocently, but he’ll still prioritise your orgasm over his own. he knows just what makes you tick, how to get your pretty hole spluttering and clenching around his thick dick like there’s no tomorrow. 
“you gonna cum for me, baby?” yoichi breathes hotly, his sticky fingers, the ones coated in your juices, coming up to grab your neck tenderly — guiding your gaze up to meet his feverish midnight blue stare. his cherry bitten lips slip into a soft smirk while he languidly rolls his hips into you — feeling your arousal slide down your slit, his balls and even between your cheeks to create a slick slapping sound with the intensity of his thrusts. “go ahead, you’re such a good girl. wanna see it, make me proud, ‘kay?”
that’s all you really need to hear before your vision starts to shake and your body siezes up all at once. feathery and high pitched moans bubble up on your wet lips, your hand tangling in isagi’s sweaty dark locks while he rocks into you through your high — your juices splash out against the seat in a never ending stream — only fuelled by the team’s grunts and accompanying moans from watching you cum.
“yoichi…” you whine, back arching away from his chest and hips lifting away from his.
his lips drop to your neck in a loving and reassuring kiss as his hands settle on your waist to pull you back down onto his aching cock. “so good, precious.” he goads condescendingly. “‘m right behind you, keep that orgasm going for me.” 
it’s not long before your fluttering cunt is flooded with a pool of thick, white seed — tacky and warm against your ribbed walls. isagi muffles himself by biting down on your salt-licked flesh, panting happily against you as whe rubs approving circles into your hips. 
a silence in the van follows, only interjected by the bother boys and their own highs. “s-she just lets you use her like that?” kunigami mumbles, red in the face and embarrassed by the fact that he just nutted to his best friend’s girl. 
isagi wraps his arms around you, soothing your fatigue with sweet kisses. “i mean yeah, we talked about. it’s something she likes.” he squeezes you possesively as you drift off. “we both do.” 
“lucky,” bachira grins sickly, tucking his own wet dick away. “when do we get a turn, isagi?” 
“when you’re dead.” your boyfriend retorts, selfishly, which makes you smile sleepily into his chest. “she’s mine, and will only ever be mine.” 
sometimes your boyfriend can be selfish — but you’re mostly grateful for it because it means your chest fills with love and warmth whenever he’s possessive over you. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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ivybucky · 7 months
Text
First Time - b.b. x gn!reader
Summary: You have a habit of calling people by cute nicknames or monikers, and Bucky isn't sure why it made him feel so good.
a/n: I'm breaking my hiatus finally!!! this is just a cute lil fic somewhat based on first time by hozier without the thought-provoking underlying angst. 1.9k
Content/Warnings: tfaws!Bucky, fluff, pining, tfaws fight scenes, zemo mention, multiple Sam appearances, references to fights/violence, use of y/n, use of the nickname doll when referring to the reader, friends to lovers? (let me know if i'm forgetting anything)
Masterlist
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Believe it or not, Bucky Barnes tried to not think about his past. 
Though his efforts to make amends were a work-in-progress, and his name was brought up in the press more often than he preferred, Bucky Barnes tried to think about his past as little as possible. 
The first time you called him James was the first time he had liked the way it sounded. You had smiled at him, sweet and welcoming, as Sam introduced the two of you.
“It’s nice to meet you, James.” God, did it fall off your tongue in the nicest way. “Thank you for looking after birdbrain over here.” You giggled at Sam’s distant-sounding protest.
Bucky cracked a sideways smile, not being able to stop himself. “You can call me Bucky, doll.”
Your smile morphed into a sort of smirk, cheeks warming at the nickname he gave you. “Is that what you prefer?”
He hadn’t given it much thought anymore. He knew James as the person who enlisted in the military, the person who fell from the train following Captain America into the throws of war. James was the person who was Hydra’s plaything, the assassin, the monster he was so desperate to forget. Bucky was the charmer, the best friend of Steve Rogers, the swing dancer who had a habit of punching bullies(justified obviously). 
Now, he didn’t feel like either. Going by Bucky was the easiest option, since it was the part of him he was desperate to gain back. Talking to you however, he didn’t think he cared what he was called anymore. 
He gave you a soft grin, one that may have held a bit more meaning than flirtation. “I don’t mind either, you can call me whatever you want.”
The first time you called him by any kind of nickname was the day they went to Madripoor.
“Sammy! Buck!” You called their names as you waved big at them from the small airport hangar. 
Bucky tried to slow his heart as the pair walked closer to you. Sam let out a chuckle next to him, a teasing smile thrown his way. “Hope you don’t mind the extra company, Buck.”
With a frown and a grumble, Bucky widened his gait, the toe of his shoe catching on Sam’s, causing him to trip up momentarily. “Don’t call me that.”
He reached you first, allowing his smile wider further than before. “Hi Y/N, what’re you doin’ here?”
You placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “It’s good to see you too,” you chuckled. “Sam told me what you guys are doing with Zemo. He thought I might be able to provide some kind of help, right Sam?”
Sam walked up with somehow both a smirk and scowl on his face and pulled you into a quick hug. “That’s right, though I might’ve invited you along so that I’m not the only one putting up with his old ass.”
Bucky scoffed, trying to ignore the lack of warmth from your otherwise occupied hands. “Are you sure about this, doll? This is probably gonna end with all of us on a watch list.”
You nudged his shoulder, your own smirk gracing your features. “As if I wasn’t on one already.”
The boys both chuckled, before Sam spoke up. “Speaking of watchlists, he’s here.”
Boarding the private jet that Zemo just happened to have, Bucky tried to keep his eyes on you the whole time, even as you sat in the leather seat between him and the window. 
“I’m sorry, I’m just fascinated by this - I don’t know what to call it,” your brows furrowed at the sentence, at the faint smirk that rested on Zemo’s face. “But this part seems important. Who is Nakajima?”
Bucky was out of his seat in an instant, metal fingers gripped tightly around his throat. Zemo’s face wiped itself of any amusement. Bucky spoke into his ear low and gruff, but it could easily be heard throughout the plane cabin. “You touch that again and I’ll kill you.” 
He snatched the notebook back into his and heavily sat back down into his seat, hand wound tight around the small journal
Your fingers reached across his lap and wrapped around his clenched metal fist, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand. “Just ignore him, sweetheart. You and I both know nothing that man says is worth anything.” 
Bucky looked down at your joined hands, then glanced up at you with a small smile. He gave your hand a couple of squeezes, and tried to focus back on the words being said throughout the rest of the plane ride. 
The first time you called him “baby” was during their fight with John Walker. 
Madripoor and Latvia had been filled with silent stares, small smiles, and soft words . Fleeting “friendly” touches ensued as well - Bucky’s hand on your back drawing small circles, your gentle grasp of his hand or arm when he clenched his fist.
Bucky talked to you about Yori, about his too soft mattress, about his too shitty of a therapist, his want to get a cat. You told him about meeting Sam, your agency background, your agreement that he should totally get a cat. And now, you just wished you could have that again.
Walker was too strong, landing solid hits on both Sam and Bucky that could easily start slowing them down. He had lifted the shield over their bodies too many times, clearly holding on to the same psychotic fury he had when he killed the Flagsmasher.
To this point, you stood frozen in watch. You weren’t there when the fight started, and between Sam and John’s current focus on Bucky, you weren’t sure which side needed the most aid.
John had flung Bucky into a nearby metal utility pole for Christ’s sake, and a cry wretched itself from your lips. You ran to his side as he laid on the ground unconscious, metal arm cackling with untamed electricity. 
“Bucky,” you murmured as you checked his spine for any breaks. You could hear his breath, as shuddered as it was after an impact like that. You moved him to lay on his back, palm pressed to his cheek. “Bucky, honey, come on, wake up.”
You tapped his cheek a couple of times in slight panic, other hand unconsciously combing his hair back. A couple of moments passed before he groaned and huffed out a cough. “Bucky,” you sighed a breath of relief, eyes near tearing up as the tension left your body. “Are you hurt, baby?”
He sat up with a grimace, another groan leaving his lips. “What the fuck?”
“He took the serum,” your hands had yet to leave his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He looked up at you with a wincing smile, still bright enough to make your heart stutter. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” The red gracing your cheeks could be easily based on the intensity of the fight, but it was unsaid knowledge that wasn’t the case. He touched the hand holding his cheek as you swept a thumb back and forth. A grunt from the fight crashed them both back to reality. “He’s gonna kill Sam.”
You stood up, pulling him with you by his metal arm. Bucky swung his arm around to recalibrate before jogging forward. “We gotta get the shield. Be careful, don’t let him pin you.”
____
The first time you kissed him was in Louisiana. 
You giggled from the picnic table as you watched Bucky dodge Sam’s nephews, cake in hand, as they tried to tackle him for his arm, as well as when several of the children pleading to hang off of it.
He sat next to you on the bench of the table, shoulder pressing into yours as you basked in Sam and Sarah’s storytelling. Bucky shared some bittersweet stories about Steve, drawing smiles from everyone listening. Each laugh had you leaning into him a bit more, but a complaint could not be heard, especially when your hands brushed under the table.
The evening continued on like that into the early night. Bucky entertained the masses, looking a lot like the charmer he used to be. Sam reminisced with his community, taking many photos with his local family. 
You sat on the pier, leaning back against the wooden bench as the sun set over the water’s horizon. You could faintly hear laughter behind you on the dock mixed with the sound of the stereo’s music drifting over. A smile grew on your face as a presence made its way towards you, shoes scuffing against the wooden slats. A soft hand rested on your shoulder and sent warmth through your body. “Care for some company, doll?”
You flashed Bucky a smile that had him weak as you turned back to him and patted the space next to him. He sat down close, thigh pressed against yours, shoulder to shoulder yet again. 
“What’re you gonna do now, Buck? You think you’re gonna stick around?” 
He sighed, staring down at his metal hand in contempt. “I don’t know,” his hand clenched in his lap. “I’ve been following orders for a long time now. Might be good for me to work with someone, not for. Even if birdbrain has a habit of getting on my nerves.”
You reached across his lap and gently unfurled his fingers. He wished the pressure he felt against the metal was more tangible for once, more definitive. “You should do whatever makes you feel the most free, sweetheart.” You slipped both of your hands around his, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “Whether that be with Sam or doing something else. You deserve it.”
Bucky’s eyes drifted over your face and observed its features - the small smile that curled around your lips, the kindness in your eyes. “And what about you?” he spoke softly. “Will you stay?”
You looked up to him and searched his eyes with a hopeful grin. “Are you asking?” you chuckled, using one of your hands to comb his hair back behind his ear, thumb resting on his cheek. “If I’m needed, I’ll stay.”
Bucky puffed out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well ya know,” he threw a bright smile in your direction. “Sam’s gonna need you here so he doesn’t lose his mind.”
You chuckled, leaning a little bit closer.  “And you? Do you need me?”
Bucky took in the space between you, the way your breaths mingled, foreheads near touching. “Yeah, baby,” he allowed himself to fully lean in. “I need you.”
You kissing him was like coming up for air, or finding water in the middle of the desert. It was salvation, it was required for him to have in order to survive. Your lips were soft, tasting faintly of the beer you had earlier. His mouth moved against yours like a magnet following them wherever they went. His hand drifted to your waist, moving you somewhat into his lap as you both smiled into the kiss. When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need for oxygen to fill your lungs. 
You giggled from above him, heads pressed together. Your hands locked themselves around his shoulders in an embrace that forced him to stay where he could feel the pant of your breath across his skin, not that he was complaining. “I guess I’ll stay then.”
Please reblog and comment! It's my first fic in *two fucking years* and i need to know that this is still good lol
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shares-a-vest · 10 months
Text
Eddie reaches for Steve's fruity-scented shampoo - the stuff he swears he hasn't been using each and every time he stays over. He pops the cap and then the lights go out.
He screams bloody murder and drops the shampoo bottle. He kicks it and presses his palms against the nearest surfaces. One on the tiled wall, the other on the glass as he does everything to stop himself from moving his feet because, if he trips on that fucking fruity shampoo that makes Steve's hair oh-so-silky, he'll go slipping and sliding straight through the glass and into the goddamn toilet.
And he cannot die like that, buck-naked as the day he was born.
Though, if he absolutely had to die in the nude, he'd want it to be while he's railing someone six ways from Sunday...
Preferably the hunk who is bursting in through the bathroom door and waving a flashlight right in his eyes.
Steve opens the shower and reaches in to shut off the water. Eddie palms around and grips his boyfriend's wrist, impossibly warm despite now being wet.
"Are you... uh..." Steve drops the light enough from him to stop spluttering about. Eddie blinks hard, regaining enough focus to find a sly smile tugging at the corner of Steve's lips as he attempts to be serious, "Um, are you okay?"
Alright, maybe falling head-first into the toilet would have been a little less embarrassing than this: Steve staring back at him and snickering. He cups his junk and grumbles.
"Towel?" he spits, holding out one hand.
"Sorry," Steve says as he hands the brown (seriously, why do the Harrington's enjoy brown so much) towel over, "It's just you looked like you were in the middle of some naked jumping-jacks."
"Stevie, I was terrified," he retorts, drying off his arms and hands first so he can get a better grip on anything so he can safely get out of the damn shower before it becomes a fogged-up glass tomb.
But Steve places the flashlight tight under one arm and spots him, hovering one hand and placing the other on his dripping wet hip.
"I know," he soothes, now completely serious, "I was scared too."
Eddie doesn't care that he is mostly wet and that his hair is completely soaked, he goes right into Steve's strong arms, feeling his navy-blue sweater quickly dampen between them. Steve maneuvers around to stop their bodies from completely blocking their light source and hugs him tight.
"So stupid," Eddie can't help but mutter, "How am I more scared of the fucking dark than I was when I was six? Besides, how do you even lose power out here in Richie Richville?"
"Well, considering this house is surrounded by trees," Steve shrugs, "We lose power quite easily in bad weather," he pulls back enough to give a dangerously-teasing smirk considering Eddie's state of undress, "Thought you'd enjoy some candles and what-not, anyway. Doesn't Bilbo Baggins scurry around his cottage with a candlestick?"
Now it's Eddie's turn to move away as he hurriedly wraps the towel around himself - to protect his modesty. Yeah... that.
"Excuse me?" he exclaims, "He lives in a Hobbit hole, for one. And I'll have you know his home is well-lit."
"Come on!" Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes and taking his hand.
He leads them back into his bedroom, which at least has some moonlight peaking in from the windows. And yeah, now Eddie can really hear the source of the power outage. The wind outside and the trees that shroud Loch Nora sound like a goddamn tornado.
"Though I think Rivendell surely must have had some sort of electricity," he wonders aloud as he attempts to focus on something else.
"We can debate the infrastructure of Middle Earth later," Steve chuckles and promptly shoves a pair of sweatpants into his hands.
Eddie steps forward, smiling bashfully.
"You mean it?" he coos, biting the 't'.
Steve's eyes flick to his lips as he bites his own, "I can think of a few things we could do that don't involve the power being on."
Eddie opens his mouth, readying himself for a lame line about their palpable electricity that will probably make Steve laugh when the damn radio crackles.
If a physical object could be a boner-killer, it's the damn radio Steve currently has attached to his hip.
"Steeeve is the power out at your house, overrr!" Dustin screeches the moment Steve fishes it from his back pocket.
"Yes, over," Steve answers. He holds a finger up, silently asking Eddie to wait as they make no attempt to move an inch from each other's personal space, "I'mfine-okaygoodbye!"
He clicks the radio off completely and tosses it on his dresser, paying no mind to the fact it sends his Little League trophy toppling onto the carpet.
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satorusugurugurl · 14 days
Note
Currently thinking about switch reader and switch toru, where reader would be riding him while he’s a crying whining mess, maybe even tying his hands up, but as soon as she gets off of him he’s ripped the binds on his wrists and is flipping her over to give her the same treatment
-🍭
Silk
Characters: Gojo Satoru, FAB!Reader
Warnings: Bindage, silk ropes, choking, smut dirty talk, switch!gojo, switch!reader
Word Count: 1,119
A/N: F-Feral, submissive, whinning Gojo is one of my favorite Gojo’s!! 🫣
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Gojo Satoru was the strongest. It was something everyone said, including himself. Yes, your boyfriend was the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. Which meant he got sent on missions a lot, which you didn't mind. He always came back home to you, cocky and ready for a sweet treat as a prize for himself.
What people didn't know was that when Gojo came back from a long or tedious mission, he needed you. Satoru needed you in a way that he never, ever let other people even know about. Because what would that into his reputation? What would happen if people knew Gojo Satoru wasn't always the strongest in bed?
Sure, Gojo loved fucking you into the mattress. But days after two week-long missions, he wanted to sit back and let you take the reins. He was beginning to regret his choice to let you do what you wanted now.
“A-Ah, holy fuck!” Gojo’s eyes flooded with tears, his blue eyes watching his cock disappear into your pussy as he slowly, and he fucking meant, slowly bounced up and down on him. “Y/N babe, please!” He cried out, choking on a sob as you clamped down on his oversensitive cock. “P-Please, move faster!”
“I'm sorry; I thought you told me to enjoy myself, Toru.”
“I-I did! But I-I need more.”
You stopped moving altogether, sitting on his lap, cockwarming his throbbing cock. He whined in protest, struggling against the blue rope binding his wrists together. There was something about seeing him like this. Gojo was so needy and desperate that it had your pussy twitching with need. Feral horny Satoru was fun, but this submissive Satoru hit a different kind of button inside of you.
His hips weakly tried rocking up into you, but you hummed, slowly pulling up off him until he was an inch from popping out. “N-No, wait, what are you doing?! Please, please don't!” With a sneer, you slammed yourself back down onto his length, taking all of him in one go. “HAA!” Blue iris’ were the size of pin pricks as you repeated the same pattern, over and over, until he was choking on moans.
“Look at you~ such a good boy, Satoru~” Your boyfriend's chest heaved, eyes shut tight as you leaned forward, your fingers wrapping around his neck. “Are you my good boy~?”
Satoru bucked his hips cock throbbing as he shook his head. “I-I’m not a fucking sub.” A sadistic smile crossed over your face as he bounced faster, moaning as you felt the coil in your tummy tightening.
“Ooh~? Is that why you're blushing like a whore~? Do you want me to stop?” he shakes his head, “I asked you a question.” Fingers tightened around his throat, and you savored the way he cried out. “So answer it; are you a good boy?”
The way you spoke the degrading tone, made everything feel better. It was like he was in his domain, and everything was much more intense. His balls clenched, and a strangled cry overcame him as the first waves of his orgasm rolled over him.
His hands fought against the silk ribbon you so cruelly bound him with. “I-I’m a good boy! I'm a good boy!” Crying out, Satoru threw his head back, cumming inside of your pussy as you bounced harder, faster before slamming down on him completely, cumming with him.
Heavy breathing flooded the room as your heart rate began to slow. Only when you were positive you weren't going to pass out from pure orgasmic bliss your gaze fell on your boyfriend's face. Satoru’s bangs hung over his eyes; his ivory-perfect skin flushed red.
He looked so fucked out of his, drool spilling from the corner of his mouth. His chest was moving rapidly; his stomach muscles clenched underneath you. God, he looked so delicious like this, but at the same time, he seemed out of it. A little too out of it.
“Satoru?” He didn't respond. “I'll go get you some water.” Inching yourself off Satoru’s semi-hard cock, you gasped as the tip popped out. With jelly legs, you got off him, standing up slowly. “Baby, I'll be rig-” Looking over your shoulder, you came face to face with stunning blue eyes. “T-Toru?”
In one swift movement, Satoru yanked his wrists apart, ripping the blue silk bindings. Large hands gripped your hips, throwing you down on the mattress. The fluidity of his actions left you breathless, his hips pressing against yours. His hard cock throbbed before plunging inside of you.
“Nnngh! Fuck!” Satoru growled, hearing your cries of pleasure. One hand gripped your hip so hard you knew you'd have bruises later. “T-Toru!”
“You thought it was cute tying me up like that?” His voice was dark, lips on your neck, breathless words tickling your ear. “Oh, you got nothing to say now?” he thrust deeper, his cock hitting your cervix head-on. “Yeah, that's what I thought.” His free hand grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them against the mattress. “Not so funny now that you're in my position, is it?”
You couldn't find the words to respond other than ‘fuck’. Satoru was fucking your brains out. Literally rendering your use of human language useless. All you were capable of doing was crying out his name as his cock slammed against your g-spot and your cervix with each thrust.
“Ah! Mnnngh T-Toru!” He chuckled, the hand in his hips moving, rubbing your clit in circles, his other hand squeezing around your wrists tightened, making your eyes roll back.
“Who's my good girl?”
“Haah, ah~!”
“Answer the question Y/N! Who's my good girl?!”
“M-Me! I am!”
Satoru took your earlobe between his teeth, picking up the pace of his sensual movements. “Then be a good girl and cum on my fat cock!” His eyes shut tight as you obeyed him, jerking and screaming, your orgasm bringing him over the edge of his second one. “That’s right, good girl~ good fucking girl~!”
The warmth from your lingering orgasm and Satoru’s body laid over you. Satoru’s bare chest hummed with a satisfied groan before trailing kisses up your neck all the way to your lips. The kiss was soft and full of adoration, his strong hands cupping your face. Before he collapsed next to you, his arms dropped over you, pulling you close.
“Next time, you'll be the one tied up.” He whispered over the back of your neck, grinning against your skin as you squirmed. “And baby, that's a fucking promise I intend to keep.”
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rookthorne · 10 months
Text
⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐭. 𝟏
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It was meant to be just a movie night, a chance to catch up with your best friend after a long week, but Bucky had other ideas. The two of you had danced around the obvious for far too long, and he was going to take matters into his own hands.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ♆ Pornstar!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ♆ 3.9k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ♆ Fluff, angst / insecurity ჻჻჻ TROPES: Best friends to lovers ჻჻჻ SMUT: Fingering (F receiving) ჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, daddy, virginity
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ♆ Please, someone take away my keyboards. I barely survived this.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ♆ I Want It by Two Feet ♆ Like U by Rosenfeld
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ♆ @smutconnoisseur
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ♆ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟮 — Pornstar AU — Masterlist
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𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Movie night with Bucky was a routine that the both of you had maintained for god knows how long. Every Friday night, you would travel to Bucky’s home, or he would come to your apartment, and you would binge either a season or two of your shared favourite shows or a movie trilogy. 
Only, it had become hard the past few months. 
Bucky was your best friend, and you knew of his occupation. And, sure, you were curious as all hell to learn more – but it didn’t help the fact you had a raging crush on the ridiculously beautiful six foot plus pornstar. 
It was an effort to keep the curiosity and feelings under lock and key – having been very successful at it, if you said so yourself. Tonight would be no different. Bucky would arrive at your door at any moment, take out in hand, and his handsome smile and irresistible charm-
No, stop it, you scolded yourself, taking a deep breath. “Chill, girl,” you muttered, gathering the final blanket from your closet for the blanket den in the living room. The butterflies in your stomach slowed a notch, and your muscles relaxed. 
As if you had summoned the devil himself, three solid knocks on your front door announced Bucky’s arrival. “Come in!” you called, walking quickly into the living room to deposit the blanket. “I’m in the living room, Buck.”
The door swung open, and footfalls sounded in the entryway. “Hey, doll,” Bucky greeted loudly, the rustling of plastic bags and fabric as he took off his shoes followed his call. “Sorry I’m late; the shoot ran later than I had hoped.”
“You’re good,” you soothed, that same fire sparking at the mention of his work. “How are you?”
“Just fine,” Bucky said, right behind you. You jumped and spun round to find him grinning happily. “How ‘bout you? Ready for tonight?”
The sight of him rendered you speechless for a second – his broad shoulders and chest were covered in a black Henley and leather jacket, and his thighs were clothed in tight black jeans that were stylistically faded. Normally, Bucky wore his hair up in a low ponytail, only keeping it loose for shoots (not that you knew, of course not), but something was different about it right now… Tonight he had it down, fanning to rest at the base of his neck and spreading over his shoulders. 
Shit.
“Cat got your tongue?”
You startled and blinked – staring, you had been staring at him. Fuck, you cursed silently. “Sorry, Buck–long day,” you lied, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the thought that Bucky left his hair down- Oh, god, no- “But it’s been good. And you don’t think I can’t take a marathon, huh?”
Bucky smirked. “I know you can’t handle a marathon, cutie.”
“Bucky!” you sputtered, and he just laughed, shaking his head.
“Sorry, sorry–you walked into that one. Anyway,” he said, looking at the blankets laid on the couch. “You get the plates and shit, then we can start.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” you retorted, making him snort. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw Bucky taking off his jacket out of the corner of your eye, and he placed it on the back of the recliner. His back and arm muscles rippled with the movement, and you couldn’t help the way your mouth watered, the fire roaring at the sight. Get it fucking together, you chided yourself, hastily reaching for the plates you needed. 
Bucky groaned loudly as he flopped down onto the couch and into his spot, his head thrown back. “Fucking work, I tell you. They’re making me fit more in each damn day,” he complained, running a hand over his face. 
You frowned – it wasn’t like him to complain about his job. He loved it, truly loved it. “Are you alright, Buck?” you asked from the doorway.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Just… I just wish they’d take in and listen to what I want to do, y’know, into account. Like,” he gestured mindlessly. “I love what I do, but I just want something else. Fucking twinks and blondes all day is great. Don’t get me wrong–I just want something else, just once. Variety is the spice of life or some shit.”
Unable to think of anything in reply – more so the candid comment about just who he fucks, you walked into the living room and sat down on the couch next to him, grabbing his hand. “I know, bubs, you need a change.” Bucky smiled softly and squeezed your hand. Curious, you looked into his eyes and asked, “What is it that you want to do? I’m sure it’s something hella interesting.”
The look Bucky flashed at you was unreadable, almost considering; calculating in nature. “Just something, doll,” he said evasively. “Now, let’s dig in. I’m starving.”
You smiled and reached for the remote, handing it to Bucky. “You chose, you deserve it.”
The TV played quietly in the background as you two ate, catching one another up on the few day’s ventures from when you had last seen one another. Bucky had many, many shoots – his popularity skyrocketing, going by the analytics of his latest uploads of which he bragged heartily about. You congratulated him, despite the pride and jealousy swirling in your chest at the words. Sincerity wasn’t an issue. You were, in fact, very proud of him, but you wanted it – wanted him. 
Inwardly sighing, you began to regale your couple of days. Work had been busy, and the annoying co-worker was being useless, as usual. The small frown on Bucky’s lips at the news made your heart flutter. “Y’know, doll, you could always-”
“No,” you interrupted, “I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t think it’s for me.” Never mind that you’d never experienced anything within the spectrum of his career – too busy with your own job and life, and no one gave you a second glance. “Anyway, I wouldn’t wanna steal your fanbase,” you teased while winking, which pulled a laugh from the brunette.
Dinner passed quickly after that, and you were curled up on the couch, blanket on your lap as you focused on the TV, the scene tense when Bucky shifted. You looked over, but he was still staring at the TV, though he was closer to you – his thigh almost touching yours. 
You raised a brow, staring at his profile until he glanced over at you. “What’s up, buttercup?”
“What are you doing?” you asked, eyes narrowed. “Don't try to deny it, I see it. You're planning something.”
“I am not,” Bucky said innocently, smirking.
You continued to stare at him, brows furrowing. “You know, smirking while saying you’re innocent negates the fact that you are, y’know, innocent.”
Bucky snorted with laughter and shifted even closer. “I just wanna be next to you. That alright?”
“Okay…” The warmth from his bulk made you tense – unsure how to cope with the fact that the man you wanted much more with had moved to sit right next to you, his intentions unclear and unknown. 
Half an hour later, the TV rolled the credits, and you sighed happily, stretching to the ceiling. “Another?” you asked before turning to look at Bucky.
The expression on his face made you freeze in place – warmth enveloped your entire being, and your mouth fell open slightly. It was a devastating stare, hungry and predatory all in one, and he looked famished. 
“Bubs? What–?”
“I have danced around this for so fucking long, and I can’t do it anymore.” Bucky shifted, his body now fully facing yours, and you gulped. “I have seen the way you’ve been looking at me for months now, doll-”
“But-”
Bucky held his hand up, and you fell silent. “Let me finish, sweetheart.” The use of a pet name caused butterflies to come to life in your stomach, and you gave in. You leaned back against the couch cushions to better see him. “I know you know about my lifestyle, and yet, you’re not afraid to get close–you’re my best friend, and I know it’s greedy and downright selfish, but I want more.”
Silence. You couldn’t breathe – couldn’t think… “What?”
“I want you, doll.”
“Oh,” you managed, voice high pitched. “Uh–”
“Take it easy, I don’t mind waiting for you,” Bucky soothed, his hand reaching out to hold yours. 
“But–but I haven’t–” You swallowed, hesitating and feeling the dreaded panic start to flood your nerves. 
“Haven’t what?” Bucky asked gently, his eyes searching yours. 
“Had a… a boyfriend,” you mumbled, grimacing. “I-I, um- I haven’t had one before.”
Bucky stared, eyes slightly widened. "You haven't- Wait, are you telling me you've never had a partner romantically or sexually?”
Shame curled in your stomach, and you shied away, looking down into your lap and doing all you could to avoid his gaze. 
“No, no–don’t hide from me, sweetheart. Look at me,” Bucky pleaded, “please, please look at me.”
You looked up slowly, meeting his gaze. Tears lined your eyes, and you felt embarrassed – the heat that had consumed you a second before twisted into shameful nausea. Of course Bucky would be ashamed, he had sex for a living, and yet, here you were, a virgin at your age with no experience-
“Stop. I mean it, stop it, doll,” Bucky cut in firmly, his hands squeezing yours tightly. “I can see those ugly thoughts in your eyes.”
“But, me?” you whispered, sniffling quietly. “Me? When you could have literally anyone you wanted?”
“It’s always been you, sweetheart,” Bucky replied, expression pained. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long.” 
“Oh, wow,” you breathed, your bottom lip trembling. “But, Bucky, I’ve never-”
“If you’re telling me you’ve never had sex, that ain’t what bugs me.” The words made your brows furrow, and Bucky sighed. “What bugs me is that you’re so upset that you’ve not got experience–baby, if I am your first for anything, I would be fucking honoured. If you would have me.”
You stared at Bucky for a moment, considering. He was your best friend, the one you’d fallen head over heels for – trust had long been established, and you felt safe with him. This is what you had wanted for so fucking long.
Fuck it, you thought. 
“Please,” you whispered, looking at Bucky. “Please.”
Bucky smiled and leaned in close. “Can I kiss you, baby?” His breath fanned over your lips, and you nodded, moving into the feel of his hand cupping your cheek. “Fuck.”
Your lips met softly in a chaste kiss that shocked you with the feeling of utter passion and devotion poured into it. A small noise escaped your throat without your consent. Bucky's reaction of pulling you closer boosted your confidence, and you shuffled into his space, almost effectively sitting in his lap. 
The sensation of his hand moving to cup the side of your neck made you shiver, and Bucky slowly pulled back from the kiss. "You're sensitive, aren't you, baby?" he remarked. 
You bit your lip. “Never felt that before-”
“Oh, baby,” Bucky purred, grinning widely. “I am gonna blow your mind, but first, if you want to stop, you tell me, and I’ll stop. I will not hurt you.”
“Okay.” Bucky’s hands moved from your face and neck to your waist. 
"Lie back for me, baby girl," he said, directing you to recline on the couch. "I want to show you something." Following his direction, you landed gently on your back. "Now, I want to double-check with you–do you want this? Want me to be your first?"
Without hesitation, you said, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted–I want you, Bucky, please-”
Bucky moaned quietly, and you found you wanted to hear that sound again. “You’re gonna be the fucking end of me, sweetheart.”
His hands moved to your hips again, and he grabbed the waistband of your pants, giving a small tug. You lifted your hips in permission, all while shivering in anticipation, and Bucky worked your leggings and panties off – your lower half was bare, and you had no idea what to expect next. Sure, you’d seen porn, and you knew what sex was, but experiencing it? It fucking terrified and exhilarated you. 
“Have you got protection, baby?” Bucky asked suddenly, tossing your clothes onto the coffee table next to the abandoned food. 
"Bathroom." Bucky raised an eyebrow, and you shrugged. You watched as he walked into your bathroom, and then a second later, he appeared with a box and a tube. 
"Now, have you ever used any toys or had any kind of penetration before, doll?" Bucky asked, looking at you with a reassuring smile. 
Embarrassment surged up your spine and curled your stomach again. Bucky sensed it, and he smiled softly. "I need you to be honest, sweetheart. If you haven't, it's alright–I told you, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. I'm going to take care of you.”
“No…” you whispered. 
Bucky swooped in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for being honest with me, baby. Good girl.”
A small squeak left your lips at the praise, and Bucky grinned. “Oh? You like being called a good girl, huh?” Unbidden, your thighs clamped together, and he saw. “You do… that’s a good thing, sweetheart. Because you are my good girl–daddy’s sweet little thing, huh?”
His voice was so deep and low that you swore you could feel it in your very bones, and the words shot straight to your cunt that had started to leak. “D-Daddy?”
“I know that you know about that, baby. You call me daddy, and I will give you anything you want.” Bucky shrugged, a coy smile on his lips. “Now, I’m gonna kneel right here,” he pointed at your thighs. “And you’re gonna lay there while I work. I can’t let that pussy be empty any longer–I know you must be aching.”
You whined – a sound you’d never made before, and Bucky moved in like a wolf to its prey. His hands rested on your knees as he settled, and before you knew it, he was resting his weight against your shins, staring at you with a softening expression. “You open these fucking gorgeous legs when you’re ready, sweetheart. We do this at your pace, okay?”
“Okay,” you replied quietly, and you bit your lip as his hands rubbed up and down the outsides of your thighs. “Okay–I’m ready.” Opening your thighs, Bucky exhaled heavily, his gaze immediately honing in on your pussy. 
“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, “already wet for me, huh? Bet you’re real fucking keen to know just how it feels to be pleasured.”
You nod, eyes widening as Bucky’s hand moved to cup your sex. The touch was gentle, and you huffed in surprise when his fingers danced over your folds. “Yeah, y’are. Good fucking girl, proud of you already.”
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, squirming slightly. “Bucky-”
“Never been praised, sweetheart? That’s a shame,” he hummed, leaning close until his body hovered over yours. “Get used to it, baby, because when I’m done with you, you won’t know which way is up.”
A moan fell from your lips, and Bucky grinned. “Now, I’m going to go real slow, I need to stretch you out first. I would fuck you with my tongue, but I’m a lil’ impatient–I can do that later.”
“T-Tongue?” you stuttered, eyes wide. “You–?”
“Oh, baby, you really are an innocent kitten,” Bucky purred, and you shivered violently. “That’s alright, you’ve got a whole new world to experience, and lucky for you, daddy knows all the tricks of the trade.”
You laughed nervously, and Bucky kissed your nose. “Now, sweet thing, I’m gonna play with your clit a bit–get you excited.”
“O-Okay–Ah!” Insistent pressure circled your clit, and you keened. Having masturbated before this, it wasn’t a new sensation, but having another person do it was intense, and it pulled a cry from your lungs. “Bucky, oh my god!”
“I know, I know,” Bucky soothed, his fingers moving a little faster. “Stay with me, baby. I know it feels good.”
The circles on your clit continued a moment longer, each pass making you pant from the new, overwhelming sensation. “Alright,” Bucky mused, looking down at where his hand met your cunt, and he pulled it away. “Look, baby, look how wet you are.”
You glanced down and gasped quietly at the sight, then you looked at Bucky, who was grinning like a madman. “I think you’re ready for a lil’ more.”
“More–? Oh, oh, fuck-” You gasped, jolting in place at the feel of Bucky’s fingers trailing to your opening and pushing with the slightest pressure. 
“Relax, baby girl,” Bucky whispered, leaning forward to mouth at your throat. “You gotta relax for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Taking a deep breath, you willed your body to unclench, limb by limb, until you were pliant under him again. “That’s it, good girl.”
Bucky’s finger pushed in, the intrusion burning a small amount, and you hissed. “You’re alright; I promise I won’t do anymore,” he reassured, placing a kiss on your forehead again. “You’re doing so, so good for me, baby–just stay relaxed. I can feel how tense you are.”
“Bucky, I-”
“I know, relax for me–relax for daddy, alright? Breathe,” Bucky soothed, smiling down at you. At his words, you tried again, and he smiled wider. “That’s it, now, I’m gonna insert another, stop, then add just one more. That’ll do for the moment.”
“Okay,” you sighed, moving your hands to grip his broad and still clothed shoulders. “Wait, please, I want-” You tugged at the Henley, pouting.
“You want me to take it off?” Bucky questioned as he watched you curiously, and you nodded. “Okay, hang on, baby.” His fingers pulled slowly out of your pussy, and he pulled his shirt off, exposing the muscle and expanse of tattooed skin of his chest. “That better, sweetheart?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, running your hands over his chest, and he shivered. “Daddy looks good.”
“Doll,” Bucky groaned, stilling his movements. “Don’t. Not yet.” You giggled, and he sighed, glancing down at your pussy once more. “Ready for more, baby?”
“Yeah,” you replied, smiling and wiggling your toes. “Please.”
“Good manners,” Bucky praised, kissing you on the lips. “Here we go.”
You moaned at the feel of a second finger, and Bucky paused, the small twitches of his hand ricocheting up your spine like an earthquake. “Why- Oh my god, you’re moving-”
“I’m not, I’m not, baby,” Bucky rushed, voice strained. “It’s just you- Fuck. You’re so tight, and your pussy is squeezing me–I’m trying to keep my cool; I’m sorry.”
“No, no, don’t say sorry,” you said quickly, shuddering through another twitch. “Just feels- It feels good, oh-”
Bucky grinned, the two fingers now purposefully moving along your walls. 
“Bucky!” you squealed, your stomach tensing and pulling you up off the couch cushions. “Why-”
“Let it go, baby, let yourself feel,” Bucky whispered, doing it again. “I’m going to give you a third finger and then see how you do, alright?”
“Ye- Fuck!”
“Such a sensitive kitten, and fuck, does daddy love it,” Bucky rumbled, moving to loom over you again. “Taking my fingers so well, baby, squeezing them just like you will my cock.”
The words made a violent shiver grip your spine. “Oh, fuck, daddy,” you breathed.
Bucky shushed you, and his fingers twitched again. “You think you’re ready for me to move them, sweetheart?” The words were followed by a sweeping motion, and you keened. “Like that. You tell me when you’re ready.”
“Ye- Yeah,” you rushed, gripping his shoulders. “Please, daddy, I want it.”
“Okay, kitten,” Bucky said, shifting slightly. “Here we go.”
It started subtle – small movements that made your eyelids flutter, then the sweeping motions got bigger, bolder, and you let out a low moan, your chest heaving for breath. 
“Stay with me, baby. I’m looking for something,” Bucky said, biting his lip. You watched through heavily lidded eyes as his brows furrowed in concentration, the sweeping motions getting harder. "Hang on, one second. Oh baby, that's it. Hang on, give it to me. Be a good girl. Come on.”
“What- What are you looking for?” You panted, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. It felt so fucking good, and you were growing needy – wanting more. “I don’t-”
“It will be new for you, baby girl,” Bucky breathed, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s going to be very intense, but it won’t hurt–do you want me to stop?”
“No, no, no, don’t stop,” you pleaded.
“Alright,” Bucky replied, nodding. “Just breathe for me, sweetheart–you’re gonna feel something-” Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, and your eyes bulged. “Like that,” he continued, “but a lot more intense. I need you to trust me.”
“I trust you,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the new feeling. It was like being struck by lightning, and your thighs quivered. “Please, I trust you.”
“Good girl.” 
Bucky’s fingers moved again, this time with a mission, and you swore loudly. “Oh my- Fuck! Daddy! Oh my god! Please, what-”
“Easy,” Bucky breathed, smirking, his fingers keeping up a steady stream of sensation as they curled inwards – each brush making your head swim. “That’s it, just take it, baby. Take it for daddy, c’mon.”
“I don’t- Ah, fucking hell,” you babbled, grasping at Bucky’s shoulders, neck, hair – anywhere to ground yourself.
“That, baby girl, is your g-spot,” Bucky soothed, still moving his fingers. “And each time I hit it, it makes you wanna scream, doesn’t it? It makes you want more, huh?”
“Yes!” you cried, squirming. “Please! I-I, don’t-”
“Cum for me, baby, c’mon,” Bucky encouraged, voice raised above your moans. “I know you want to; give it to me.”
Pleasure blinded you, and your back bowed to the ceiling. “Bucky! Bucky–please, please! Oh my god, I think- Think-”
“Don’t think, kitten, just let go, I’ll catch you.”
A loud cry tore from your lips, and you shook under Bucky, your climax stealing your breath and ability to move or think. You could only hear the pounding of blood in your ears and the faraway sound of Bucky’s voice calling over the waves, “That’s it, good girl–good fucking girl, give it all to me. Daddy wants it all, c’mon.”
Slowly, your vision returned, and you glanced around, still panting for breath. “What the fuck,” you gasped, and Bucky laughed. 
“Now that was a fucking sight that I will never forget, sweetheart,” Bucky said smugly. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and leaned forward to kiss you full on the mouth, his tongue parting your lips greedily. “My baby girl is a greedy one. Even when cumming, you begged for more.”
“Huh?” you asked, dazed and confused. 
“You screamed for more when you were cumming–it was fucking beautiful,” Bucky praised. “And I will give you more, sweetheart, but I need you to catch your breath first. Are you alright?”
You blinked once, twice, and looked down at your body. A sheen of sweat had settled over your stomach and chest, your cunt quivered through aftershocks, pulsing every other second, and your thighs quivered. “I am great,” you said, grinning. 
“Atta girl,” Bucky laughed. “Catch your breath, and then you can have more.”
“Okay, daddy.” Bucky winked and sat back on his haunches, running his hands over your calves this time. “Fuck, that was…”
“A lot?” Bucky finished. “Yeah, you won’t last long with my cock in you, either, but fuck, you’re gonna be like heaven, sweetheart. And I can’t fucking wait to bury myself in that sweet cunt a’yours.”
“Jesus, Bucky,” you mumbled, eyes wide. 
“Just you wait, gonna see how filthy my mouth really gets when I fuck you, kitten,” Bucky teased.
And you couldn’t wait, not now that you knew just how good his fingers were.
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And I–
⠈⠂⠄𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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byuljoonie · 4 months
Note
can i request fwb!jk who is obsessed w oc's tits and basically worships them?
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Bite me - Enhypen ♪
pairing: fwb!jk x fem!reader
genre: smut, drabble, unedited
word count: 1.1k
warnings: titty worship, dirty mouth jk, titty fucking, spit, pet names, fwb!jk x fem!reader
note: a christmas gift from me to y’all<3 thanks for requesting I hope you enjoy! sorry if it’s not to your liking. -dubu☆
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“Are you going to actually watch the movie?” You questioned him smugly. Jungkook looked over at you, a puzzled look present on his face.
“Or are you going to stare at my chest all night, hmm?” The half smirk on your face stretching into a full blown smile. His cheeks went red but regret was not seen on his soft features.
“Sorry…that top looks really good on you,” he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes flickering between you and your shirt.
You shifted on the couch to face him, propping up on your knees for a better angle. You leaned forward putting your finger under his chin, meeting his lust filled gaze.
“My eyes are up here, Kookie.” You moved your hand, reaching under your shirt to skillfully remove your bra. Your eyes never leaving Jungkook’s. You felt the clasp release itself and you tugged slightly, letting it drop to the couch.
He quirked a brow at you, a silent challenge flowing in the space that surrounds you. The TV blared mindlessly beside you as the long forgotten movie came to its climax.
“Can you stop teasing me already, babe?” His eyes fell to your chest, cock twitching in his shorts at the the sight of your nipples peaking through your shirt.
You watched him shift in his seat, titling your head to the side seductively. You gave him a knowing look, urging him to make a move.
“Babe?” You asked cutely, “When did I become your babe, Koo?”
“When you let me cum inside you last night.” He stated nonchalantly, reaching forward to run his hand up the expanse of your tummy. You felt your cheeks warming at his words, placing your hand over his.
“Whatever,” you said embarrassed, guiding his hand under your shirt until it rested on the swell of your left breast. They were still sore from last night, the ghost of Jungkook’s skilled hands lingered on your skin.
“Shit —“ he groaned, moving closer to you on the couch. He leaned forward capturing your lips in a kiss, greedily exploring your mouth with his tongue. You felt your pussy growing wetter as he deepened the kiss.
You pulled apart to catch your breath, chests heaving heavily. Jungkook removed himself from his spot, suddenly getting on his knees in front of you. He placed his warm hands on your waist, guiding you to face him at the edge of the couch. “Needy Kookie,” you mutter, biting your lip and swiftly discarding your shirt.
“So fucking sexy,” he runs his hand up your hips, caressing your soft figure before he begins massaging the supple skin. A symphony of weak whimpers escaping your swollen lips.
His fingers dug into your flesh firmly, hands moulding with your skin in an obsessive attempt at claiming his place. He leaned in attaching his lips to your right nipple, making you squirm in your seat, legs spreading painfully wide. He laved his tongue over your sensitive nipple, brushing his fingers gently over the other to show you extra attention. The lewd sounds of your pretty moans filled the living room, hips bucking towards him.
“Sound so pretty when you moan for me, baby.” He grazed his teeth along your nipple, licking feverishly around your areola.
“Jungkook,” you whined his name pathetically, pussy clenching around nothing at the feeling of his hot mouth on your body.
“Hmm?” He hummed around your sensitive bud, removing himself with a pop and switching to the other breast. You ran your hand through his locks, gripping them when he left a particularly rough love mark behind. He placed a lingering kiss over the forming bruise.
“I could have you in my mouth all day,” he said huskily chin glistening with spit, “such perfect tits,” he moaned kissing them one by one, holding them up in his hands like prized possessions.
You grabbed the back of his head, pulling him towards your neck, needing to feel his lips all over you. He quickly got the hint, taking his time to leave soft kisses along your cheeks and down your neck until he met his sweet spot again. Pulling your titty into his mouth and hungrily lapping at the flesh, your jaw went slack at the overstimulating feeling. A wet spot forming on your panties as you lock eyes with Jungkook. His cock strained against his shorts uncomfortably, pre-cum ceaselessly leaking from the angry tip.
“Need to Titty fuck you, doll face.” He says breathlessly, his brown eyes blown wide with lust. You swallow a whimper submissively, pussy throbbing at his vulgar words.
He rises from his position on the floor, his strong legs wobbly after kneeling for so long. You impatiently remove his shorts, licking your lips at the sight of his hard girth standing at attention mere inches from your lips. You fight the urge to take him in your mouth, letting him move your hair out of your face attentively.
He positioned himself in front of you, letting you place your tits on either side of his cock, forming a warm barrier around it. You began slowly moving them up and down, spitting on his cock to lubricate the surface earning a guttural groan from Jungkook. You could tell he was already close, knowing your foreplay was the key to his neediness. His hips bucked upwards uncontrollably, placing his larger hands around yours to speed up your movements. “Fuck yes,” he whimpered needily. “Squeeze my cock with your tits, bunny.”
You removed your hands letting him take control of the moment, running a hand down under his cock until you reached his balls. Massaging them carefully, urging him to met his orgasm. You loved making him feel good, the delicious noises he emitted only aroused you more.
“Holy — fuck” he moaned hotly, hands moving at a feral pace as he relished in the feeling of your soft mounds around his cock. You noticed his hips stutter, a harmonic call of your name continuously falling from his lips. Spurts of his cum shot out without warning, the white strands landing haphazardly on your breasts. Jungkook slowed his actions, chest still heaving after his climax.
“Better?” You asked playfully, running your fingers through the cum on your tits collecting it to taste. He watched you in amazement, a lascivious twinkle apparent in his eyes.
“Your turn, y/n.”
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Text
step brother choso x reader summary -> you know you can always rely on your step brother to take care of you wc -> 1.5k warnings -> pseudo incest. unprotected sex. maybe slight coercion? but not really? creampie. cursing. nsfw -> mdni. dead dove. do not eat.
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all your boyfriends ever do is cheat on you, lie to you, and take you for granted. you're so tired of giving them everything— every part of yourself— only for them to make a fool out of you.
after your most recent breakup, you came to realize that the only man you can truly rely on is your step brother.
ever since you were children, he's taken care of you, he's listened to you cry, he's made sure you know you're his number one priority.
so when you come home to the apartment the two of you share and find him sitting on the couch, you really can't help yourself.
it doesn't necessarily catch him off guard when you crawl into his lap, your thighs situated on either side of his frame. the two of you have always cuddled.
you're wearing a dress, so your cotton panties and his sweatpants are the only thing separating you from one another. the thought makes you feel dizzy.
he presses a kiss to the top of your head absentmindedly. "you okay?"
you make a small noise and bury your face into the crook of his neck.
you can't see the concerned frown that graces his features. "what's wrong?"
when you don't answer, his hand slides up your thigh before coming to rest on your hip. he gives it a gentle squeeze. "c'mon, talk to me princess."
"wan' you," you finally mumble against his skin.
this makes him chuckle. "you've got me."
"no, cho."
"what d'ya mean? 'm all yours, you know that."
you so desperately want to experience what it's like to be with someone you trust. who won't hurt you. who actually loves you.
but you can't bring yourself to say that. you can't admit to your step brother that you've been dreaming about his cock all day.
so you opt to grind yourself against him instead, and while the movement is short and apprehensive, you still feel his body stiffen beneath you.
"...what are you doing?"
your hands move to grab the fabric of his t-shirt weakly. "want you so bad."
he swallows thickly at your confession, finally understanding the intention behind your words, but he doesn't move a single muscle.
your eyes sting, interpreting his silence as rejection, and you're filled with shame.
however, when you pull back just enough to look at his face, you're surprised by the expression you find there.
his eyes are dark, lust and desire swimming in his purple irises. his hand reaches up, and he uses his thumb to wipe away the single tear that slides down your cheek.
"we can't," he murmurs.
another tear escapes your eye and it's like you've plunged a knife through his heart. he hates seeing you sad, and he'd do anything to stop it.
his hand curls around the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his. it's painfully brief, your lips just barely brushing against one another's.
"we can't," he repeats, his breath fanning across your face. "'m sorry."
"why not?" you sniffle. "i love you. love you so much. love you more than anyone—"
choso can't help it when he presses his lips to yours. you grind yourself against him once more, guiding his free hand to rest on your other hip.
he mumbles your name lowly, and it sounds something like a warning.
though, his body seems to be at odds with his words because you can feel him hardening beneath you.
"p-please, cho," you whimper. "need you so bad."
god, how is he supposed to think straight when you're talking to him like that?
you're so fucking needy. always have been.
and he's spent years scolding himself for the way his dick twitches whenever you give him that pouty look, or whenever you whine his name.
his grip on your hips tightens and you almost expect him to push you away, but he pulls you against himself further, his hips bucking up almost imperceptibly.
the gasp it pulls from your lips melts whatever remains of his resolve.
"you can only sit on it, 'kay? can you be a good girl and do that for me?"
"y-yes!"
he's trying desperately to rationalize the situation, like that will somehow make it less disgusting. it's not that bad if he lets his step sister warm his cock. it's not like he's actually fucking you.
his hand wanders, shifting your panties to the side and running a finger up your slit. honestly, he'd wonder if this was some cruel joke if not for what he finds there.
"so messy," he groans. "this all for me, sweetheart?"
you hide your face in his neck, suddenly feeling shy, and offer him a nod in response.
and while he thinks it's cute, he won't let you off the hook that easy. "use your words."
"y-yes, cho. all for you."
"good." he hooks a finger beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging at it before letting it snap back against your skin. "take these off."
when you stand up and quickly slide them down your legs, he pushes his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock.
it slaps against his stomach. he's so thick that if you wrapped your hand around him, your fingers would struggle to meet.
straddling him eagerly, your hands find his shoulders to steady yourself.
when you lower yourself onto his cock, a pressure begins to build in your stomach, and it gets worse with every inch.
"so big," you cry. "h-hurts—"
"shhhh. it's okay, baby. you're doing so good."
you look down to where the two of you are connected, letting out a shaky breath once you reach the hilt.
"see? i told you. such a good girl."
his praise makes you feel hot. it makes you crave more friction, even though you feel so impossibly full already.
you lift yourself up an inch or so before slowly sliding back down on his cock.
he groans your name. "don't."
"want more," you whine. "wanna make you feel good."
"shit, princess. you already are."
you pepper his face with a few kisses, starting at the corner of his mouth, then moving to his cheek and the spot below his ear.
"nii-chan," you murmur, clenching around his cock. "please."
it's not something you call him that frequently now that you're older, and you can tell it has the effect you intended when his eyes gloss over.
you lift yourself a few inches, then drop back down into his lap.
he tries to say your name, but he chokes on the first syllable when you repeat the action.
his hands fly to your hips after the third time. "stop it. we can't."
and you try to do as he asks, you try to stop, but he doesn't realize that his hands are guiding your movements now, ensuring that you don't stop riding him in spite of his words.
his head falls back against the couch, his mouth parted in miserable ecstasy.
"fuck. fuck." his own hips are moving now, thrusting up desperately. "this pussy is perfect. so fucking tight."
his eyes shift down to where he's buried inside you.
"look at that messy cunt swallowing my cock, princess," he grunts. "you were made for me, you know that?"
you hum in response, his words making the coil in your stomach grow taut. he picks up the pace when he feels you clamp down on him.
"y-yeah," you answer breathlessly. "just for you."
"i wanna feel you cum around this cock, can you do that for me?"
"close," you squeak out, your eyes screwed shut.
his hand reaches between your bodies to toy with your clit and that's all it takes to push you over the edge.
the orgasm that crashes through is so intense that your legs tremble and your vision goes white. choso's name falls from your lips over and over like a broken prayer.
you can't bring yourself to move, so he holds your hips in place and fucks up into you. when his thrusts grow sloppy, you claw at his biceps in anticipation.
"please don't pull out. please."
"sweetheart, you know i have to—"
"please," you cry again. "need it so bad. love you s'much nii-chan, just wanna be stuffed full of your cum—"
even if he really did want to pull out, he doesn't get the chance because your words make your step brother blow his load right then and there.
a strangled moan erupts from somewhere deep in his chest and you fall forward against his body, resting your chin on his shoulder.
his arms move to wrap around your frame and you're so blissfully fucked out, you're sure you've never been this content in your life.
"i love you," you murmur again.
suddenly, choso doesn't care if he goes to hell for this. this moment is the only slice of heaven he'll ever need.
"i love you too, baby." his lips find the top of your head. "so much."
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1800jjbarnes · 3 months
Text
𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬
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【Synopsis】: After disappointing your totally not possessive boyfriend. You try your hardest to get forgiveness out of him.
[W.C] : 1.4k
-> Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff.
Paring: Daddy!Bucky x Fem!Reader
[Warnings] : Food mentioned, slightly DDLG vibes. Food play. Whipped cream. Making out. Hickeys. Swearing. Dirty talking. Possessive Bucky. Slightly mean Bucky.
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You were a good girl. You promised. So when the fifth night of being ignored came around you wanted, no, you needed to put actions in your own hands. So you did what you do best. Dress to impress. Finding your favourite dress, pretty, pink, and white. It was a dress that Bucky got tailored just for you. It's one of a kind. And it was one of your prized possessions. It was the first gift he gave you when you first met. It holds so many memories for both of you. So you needed it for your plan. To gain Bucky’s forgiveness, of course.
Pacing around the room, you waited for Buck to come home. He left a note saying he would be out late for work, making your anxiousness grow. He knew you hated when he didn’t talk to you. You missed his voice, the soft charm that rolls off his tongue. You even missed the sadistic nature that slipped off his tongue. God, he made you crave him so badly that you felt like you were going mad. But with the sound of the locked front door unlocking, your heart skipped. You sat on the floor on the soft white fluffy carpet that lays on the edge of your bed. You watched the door like a hawk, knowing he needed to come in there first to undress. The door opened slowly since he spent the last minute looking for you he became slightly uneasy, but as soon as his eye met yours, the anxiety was completely erased by the feeling of lust and curiosity.
“Hello, Daddy.” The name nearly made his legs buckle, all his sinful thoughts going straight to his head. He kept his expression the same, though, not letting you have the satisfaction of knowing he was wrapped around your finger. He was obsessed with you. He craved you the same, if not more, as you. His obsession ran deep as it was the root of most of his outbursts of anger.
He doesn't mean to become so angry at you but the idea of someone else touching you, having their way with you. Call him possessive. Heck, call him crazy for wanting to lock you up so you do not dare see the light of day. He wanted you all to himself.
"What do we have here, babygirl?" He chuckled.
"I.. I wanted to show you I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad. I truly didn't know what was going on. I..I'm sorry." He let you ramble out your apology. He found it amusing. His hand grazed your chin, making you stop immediately. You haven't felt his touch in a while, so it sent shock waves through you. His thumb running over your cheek softly, lovingly before a half-pull made you whimper. He yanked your face up with his fingers digging into your jaw uncomfortably.
"It's okay, my pretty little doll. You are just too stupid when filthy men try to take what's mine. Come, let's go have something to eat." And just like that, he let go of you entirely. He had just admitted it wasn't your fault but yet... You felt like you were still in trouble. Looking at your feet, you followed Bucky close behind him, heading to the kitchen. He helped you onto the counter, letting your legs dangle over the edge.
"What we doing?" You were curious about Buck’s sudden change in demeanour. He was so cold and angry, and now he seems unreadable like he is showing one emotion to hide his true emotion underneath.
"We are going to have a little fun. Since I've been neglecting you for so long." You wanted to believe his words, but something in the pit of your gut said his words are only the surface of his actions. You nodded to him, giving him a small 'okay'. His next move makes you gulp, seeing the can of whipped cream in his hands.
"Are you a good girl?" He steps in between your legs.
"Yes..." You whimper.
"Will do you anything I ask for?" His fingers reach for the zipper on the back of your dress.
"Yes..."
"Even if it might hurt. Even if it might cause harm to you or I?" He slips the flimsy material off your shoulders slowly. His fingertips graze your soft skin.
"Yes, James. I would die for you. Anything you wish for is yours."
It was like your words made his brain short-circuit. You were willing to die for him? He has never had someone so close to him in the way you were. No one close enough were their life actually matter. God, you couldn't have become more perfect at this moment.
Your dress falls off your top half, showing off the white lace that clung to your breasts. Bucky’s eyes graze over your body, his left hand gripping your thigh while the other shakes the can tightly. He could never get over how beautiful you are. How delicious you look. All for him. And no one else.
He places the nozzle of the can against your collarbone, spraying some of the white fluffy cream onto your hot flesh. It was freezing, given it was in the fridge. The sensation brought a shiver and a low moan for you. His tongue wasted no time in licking up the sweet treat, leaving a nice bright red mark after he was done.
God, he could do this for hours. Never bored of the sounds you make. But as more clothing fell and skin became more sticky from the cream. Your hands gripped Bucky’s bare shoulders.
"hmmm Daddy..." You wiggled on the counter, feeling yourself becoming hot and bothered over the teasing. He chuckled, picking your hand up to grasp it around the can.
"Your turn, Princess." His voice was low with a hint of desperation. You looked at the can in your hand with hooded eyes. He had now just given you the power, so what will you do with it? You shook the can and sprayed some of the whipped cream on his neck, some of it sliding down over his nipple. You licked it up while sucking harshly on his neck. Your tongue fell down to his nipple to clean the rest off, but then an idea sparked from the pitched moan Bucky made.
You've never heard such a sound come out of Buck before. Heck, you didn't even know that he had such sensitive nipples. Oh, this would be fun. Spray some directly onto his nipples. You sucked them hard, making your lover almost whimper.
"F-uckk. Doll... god." He gripped your hair, yanking you off his nipples, trying his hardest to catch his breath. As if, if he didn't pull you off, he would have come in his pants then and there, and that wasn't something Bucky wanted. He needed to come in you or nothing.
"You are such a good baby. Such a good girl." He pants between his words. "Now I need to fuck you." His words made you moan, pulling him in for a kiss. The first kiss you've shared in a while, you've become so desperate for his touch you think you might go crazy. And he could tell, thinking it's quite amusing how whipped you've become for him.
"You want that baby? Want me so deep inside you that you feel me for days?" He lifts you up off the counter, walking you over to the couch, cause he opted the bedroom was too far away.
"Daddy, please, please, Fuck me..." You rambled through the sloppy kiss, feeling your back hit the soft cushions. He climbed on top of you, wrapping one hand around your waist, while the other grips your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. Even though he was mean and can be cold and cruel, he loved you so much that words couldn't even begin to explain it. He needed you like how he needed air to breathe.
"For you my dearest Baby girl...Anything."
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slut4thebroken · 5 months
Text
Little Black Dress
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Neil Lewis x reader
Summary | Neil stands behind a stranger in a crowded subway car.
Warnings | Smut, non con, 18+, sexual content, non consensual everything lol, Neil being a creep, reader is unaware, public masturbation, a lil misogyny.
Words | 1.5 k
Notes | The amount of fic ideas that I’ve gotten from watching porn is… too many💀 Also I wrote this in one day so I’m sorry if it’s bad🫣
Ao3 link | <3
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You stood in front of him, so close that he could smell your hair. His gaze trailed down your body, eyeing your exposed arms and the swell of your ass beneath the tight dress you wore. And then down your long legs, leading to your strappy heels. You must be going out. He lifted himself up on his toes a little bit and leaned forward the slightest amount— he was already much taller than you so it didn’t take that much effort. He had to bite his lip to stifle the groan that almost escaped when he saw your tits. The dress you wore flattered them nicely… as in.. they were almost spilling out of it. 
He leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to get a grip. He could already feel his cock fattening up in his pants. When the subway turned, you stumbled into him a little, your ass pushing into his crotch. 
“Sorry.” You said sheepishly, turning around to give him an apologetic smile as you stepped away from him again. 
Fuck— your face. You were wearing makeup, but not the trashy kind that makes women look worse. This just complimented your features in a subtle but pretty way. And your lips… His cock throbbed at the thought of them wrapped around his length. 
“No worries..” He chuckled awkwardly, no doubt blushing by now. 
His breathing picked up and when he looked down, the tent in his pants was obvious. He was just glad he was hidden behind you. Reaching down, he tried to subtly adjust himself, but all that did was give him a taste of the stimulation he could have, making him even harder. 
He cleared his throat and looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching, but everyone was either on their phone or engaged in conversation. So he hesitantly took a step forward until his cock just barely brushed your ass. It wasn’t enough pressure for you to notice it, but it was enough to make his lips part in a silent moan as his brows scrunched together. He moved his hips side to side a little, just barely touching your ass, trying to get a little more stimulation. 
He wanted to grab it. He wanted to turn you around, take your ass in both hands, and roughly grope you, pulling you into him as he rutted against your clothed heat. But he knew he couldn’t. So he settled for this. 
For a while, he kept teasing himself with barely there touches. But then the subway stopped and the doors opened and more people were flooding in, pushing you back into him even more. He could smell your perfume now too. 
You cleared your throat and tried to step forward once you noticed how close you were, but there wasn’t anywhere for you to go. You were close enough that he could feel your body heat through his clothes and he could see over your shoulders without needing to raise himself up. He stared at your tits from above as he breathed heavily, trying to control himself and not buck his hips forward. He had to be subtle about this or it would end far too soon. 
Suddenly struck with an idea, he grabbed his wallet from his pocket and “accidentally” dropped it so that it landed in front of you. 
“Excuse me?” He rasped, voice thick with arousal. He cleared his throat and you turned your head a little to look at him. “I dropped my wallet. Could you grab it for me please? It’s just right there.” He pointed to the floor in front of you and you gave him a small smile. 
“Sure.” You leaned down to pick it up and his mouth fell open when your ass pushed into his crotch because of the tight proximity. He wanted to grab your hips and grind his cock against you with abandon. With you bent over like this, he could just barely see the lace panties you were wearing under the skimpy dress. The train jerked and he used the opportunity to buck his hips forward, making you almost lose your balance. You leaned back up— far too soon— and let out a heavy breath of exertion as you handed it to him. 
“Here you go.” He took it with a shaky hand and gave you a shy smile. 
“Thanks.” He noticed that because of you leaning down, gravity made your tits fall up, causing them to spill out of your dress even more once you stood again. He pocketed his wallet then took out his phone and “accidentally” dropped it at his feet. “Such a klutz today.” He chuckled, trying not to sound suspicious as he squatted down to pick it up, but you didn’t even notice that he said anything. 
He stayed down there and pretended to tie his shoe as he looked up your dress, getting a better view of your panties. He wanted to know what you smelled like— what you tasted like. Feeling bold, he slowly moved closer, being sure not to breathe on your leg so you stayed unaware. Once his nose was brushing your dress, he moved a tiny bit closer, then inhaled deeply, trying not to moan out loud at your scent. He didn’t want to push his luck, so he moved back and stood up again, palming his bulge. 
Keeping his phone out, he opened the camera and took a few pictures from his point of view, showing the curve of your ass. Then he moved the phone down and pointed it under your dress, taking a few more. He hesitated for this, but looked around to make sure no one was watching, then quickly brought his phone up to his eyeline to get a picture of your tits. He lowered it quickly and looked around again, breathing a silent sigh of relief when he saw that he hadn’t been caught. 
He looked through the pictures, his hand moving more purposefully over his bulge now. They were perfect. He took a few more under your dress, wanting to get as many angles as possible. When he cursed under his breath, you turned over your shoulder to look at him.  
“Did you say something?” 
“No— no sorry.” He cleared his throat again, giving you a reassuring smile, and you turned back around. He was practically jerking himself off through his clothes now, getting more and more desperate, but he paused when he got another idea. 
Releasing his cock, he stepped closer again until it was brushing your ass, then took a few more pictures. Once he was satisfied, he quickly resumed fisting his cock, getting closer to his orgasm. 
He wanted to come on your tits, maybe even on your face or your panties. He wanted you covered in his seed— marked… owned. Plus, you’d look so pretty wearing his own personal pearl necklace. He could feel himself getting closer just thinking about it. 
He wanted to turn you around and shove you to your knees so that he could hold your head still and hump your face instead. Forcing you to smell his musk, feel his hardness. It was your fault anyway. He wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t push your barely clothed ass on his cock and get him hard. He wouldn’t be doing this if your tits weren’t out. 
If you actually wore shorts under your dress, he wouldn’t have had to take pictures. Why else would you wear such skimpy, lacy panties if you didn’t want him to do that? 
His breathing was growing more and more ragged as he got closer to his release. He looked through the pictures of your panties, focusing on your mound under the see through fabric. He wanted to see what your bare pussy looked like. Were you wet? Would you get even wetter if you knew what he was doing? Your clit probably gets so red and swollen when you’re all needy. 
He imagined what your cunt would look like when he was done with it. Probably red and puffy, your hole gaping as his come slowly trickled out of it…
He could barely even finish the thought before he quickly freed his cock and started properly jerking himself off, closing his eyes and letting his head drop down as he finally came. White ropes of come covered your black dress and anyone who saw it would know exactly what it was. He stroked himself until his orgasm was finally finished, then cleared his throat and looked around again— people’s lack of situational awareness almost amazed him. 
Lifting his phone, he took a few pictures of him rubbing the last bead of come from the tip onto your ass, then tucked himself away. He took more pictures of your ass, getting different angles and trying not to groan when it started dripping down the fabric. He pocketed his phone, then let out a heavy sigh. 
Before he even had the chance to consider doing more, the subway was stopping again and you were walking out the doors. He watched your come covered ass sway with each step and felt his cock twitch at the sight. But his enjoyment was cut short by the doors closing and the subway continuing on. 
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