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ellemj · 4 months

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Strawberries

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @cherrywinedarling: fuckboy!Bucky, sex pollen.

Summary: Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?

Warnings: profanity, sex pollen (dubcon), fingering, unprotected sex, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: Special thanks to @cherrywinedarling for submitting such an inspirational (fcking hot) request and coming up with the entire plot of Bucky being unable to get himself off with a random girl, and only being able to get what he needs from reader. Lowkey loved writing this. And thanks as always to @littlemiss-yeehaw for pre-reading and catching some errors.

Twice. No, maybe it was actually three times. Definitely three times. Bucky can remember being exposed to different versions of HYDRA’s sex pollen three times before. Each time was strictly for experimental or torture purposes rather than being done with the intent of breeding super soldiers, but it happened three times, nonetheless. So, this would be number four.

Bucky lets the cool water from the shower faucet splash over his face for a minute before beginning to scrub his skin with a wet, soapy cloth. He tried to tell you that it wasn’t anything to stress over, that he’d keep his distance from the rest of the team on the quinjet and then lock himself in his room once you were all back at the compound, but you insisted on doing things the right way. He didn’t have to take an order from you, but he did. He shot you a frustrated look before making a crude comment and trudging off to the safehouse bathroom to take a shower like you’d told him to.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked for you, don’t keep me waiting too long.” Bucky had said it with a smirk as he stood in the living room of the safehouse and stripped his shirt off with ease. But that smirk was gone the moment he shut himself in the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He’s been through this three times before but it was never enjoyable. It’ll start out as a sort of general discomfort, maybe some body aches and chills as his temperature rises slowly. Then it’ll progress to cardiovascular symptoms: his heart will begin to race, he’ll hear the thumping sound of blood rushing in his ears, his blood pressure will spike. In a normal person, the dangerous spike in blood pressure would be enough to cause a stroke, but Bucky’s vascular system has much more elasticity than a normal person. He’ll be fine. It’s the third stage of the drug’s effects that will really drive him mad. He’ll begin to feel the undeniable urge to fuck.

As you carefully piece together the gun that you’ve just dismantled, cleaned, and oiled, you’re lost in thought. You’ve done enough research over the years to know that HYDRA worked overtime to come up with various chemical compounds that would induce a near primal sexual drive in super soldiers. They wanted a sure way to grow an army of super soldiers over time without having to go through the process of wiping countless minds clean and reprogram them. You almost audibly laugh when you think about the irony of Bucky Barnes being exposed to one of those very sex pollens on your mission today. Bucky Barnes, the man who lately seems to be attempting to catch up on his eighty-something years worth of celibacy, has been exposed to a chemical compound that will make him even more insatiable than he’s already known to be. You have to wonder if he’s secretly thrilled that he has the drug coursing through his veins now.

“You’re not gonna go help your friend out with this?” Sam’s voice rings out from somewhere behind you just as you’re reloading your gun and sliding it into the side holster of your tactical pants. You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you begin packing up the last of your belongings from the kitchen table.

“He’s fucked every girl he’s met since he finished therapy, I think he has a long list of people who can help him out when we get back home.” Though there’s a lighthearted tone behind your words, you’re serious. Bucky’s been a ladies’ man since he stopped seeing Dr. Raynor for mandatory therapy sessions, and not just your average good looking, single bachelor type of ladies’ man. Bucky’s a fuckboy. Sure, he seems to be respectful about it. He doesn’t lead girls on, doesn’t make them think there’s ever a possibility for something more than one or two nights in his bed, and he leaves them all satisfied. But he’s still a fuckboy.

Your words didn’t hurt his feelings. Bucky can’t fault you for being perceptive. He really has fucked almost every girl he’s met in the last couple of months. Hell, he would’ve fucked you too if you’d just given him a chance. That’s how you ended up becoming friends. He tried like hell to get you into his bed shortly after you were assigned to the team and moved into the room next door to his, but you were adamant that you weren’t looking to be a notch on his bedpost. However, instead of telling him to fuck off, you put up with his shit and even seemed to have a good time doing so. So, you ended up being the only female friend of his that hasn’t been tangled up in his bedsheets.

Although your words weren’t necessarily hurtful, Bucky still finds himself a little bothered. He was just about to join you and Sam in packing things up and getting ready to head out when he overheard your conversation and swiftly turned back around, quietly shutting himself in the bathroom once again. You’re right, he does have a long list of people who can help him out when you get back home. God, you’re always right. If he wasn’t so inexplicably drawn to you, he’d probably hate you. But being friends with you is one of the few things that keeps him from comparing his life now to his life eighty years ago. The girl from the bar last week, that’s who he’ll call when he gets home. She was pretty. She had a nice smile, eyes that really drew him in, and she was easy to talk to. She could definitely be the solution to the problem at hand. The more Bucky thinks about her, the more he realizes she sort of reminds him of you. Shit. He’s done that too many times in the past month, brought home girls that seem so familiar but it isn’t until he’s fucked them that he realizes they remind him of you. Why the hell does that keep happening?

---

It’s just an hour later when you’re all arriving back at the compound. Sam excuses himself to go brief Fury and a few other higher-ups on everything that went down during your op, while you and Bucky head for the main tower, each of you ready to unwind in different ways. As you take the elevator up, your eyes wander over to Bucky, who stands to your right. His cheeks are flushed pink, a few stray strands of hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand like it’s sore to the touch. He acted like being exposed to a sex pollen was just another day at work for him, but you know him well enough to know that at the very least, he’s uncomfortable right now.

When the elevator doors slide open to let you both out into the main room of the living quarters, Bucky doesn’t even wait to let you off first like he usually does. He steps in front of you and exits quickly, walking a little faster than usual to get to his room down the hall. Maybe that’s what makes you feel bad for him, or maybe it’s the fact that he feels like he has to pretend like he’s unbothered in front of you and Sam instead of telling you how much it sucks to have such a vile chemical compound wreaking havoc within his body.

“Do you need anything?” You ask softly as you pass Bucky in the hall and near your own door, just a few steps beyond his. The sound of your voice breaks his focus and he drops his keys at his feet. Bucky stoops down to retrieve them and then turns his full body to face you from five feet away. You work on unlocking your own door, but cast a sideways glance in his direction. His usual smirk is notably missing, and a stormy, hard-to-discern look has taken its place.

“If I do, I can call one of the girls I’ve met since I finished therapy.” The words are like ice: cold and jarring, sending a chill down your spine. He overheard you and Sam earlier. You don’t know why you feel like a kid sitting in the principal’s office, not when you’ve teased him over his fuckboy ways for as long as you’ve known him. It shouldn’t have bothered him that much considering it was true. Why do you feel like shit for having said it now? More importantly, why does his response to your question feel like a rejection?

When Bucky steps into his room and shuts the door behind him, you hear him seal himself in with the resounding metal click of a lock. If only he’d known that a deadbolt wouldn’t keep you away.

---

You’ve just finished showering and getting yourself ready for bed when you hear the familiar sound of Bucky’s door opening and closing down the hall, followed by two sets of quiet footsteps heading in the opposite direction. Two sets of footsteps? Bucky must’ve called for one of his late-night guests a little early tonight, to help with his situation. You’ve lived next door to him for a couple of months now and if you’ve learned anything, it’s that the man has stamina. So, for one of his guests to have arrived and left in the short time that it took you to shower and pull on some pajamas, something must’ve gone wrong.

Bucky stands with his back pressed against the cool metal wall of the elevator and his arms crossed over his chest as he mentally kicks his own ass. He couldn’t go through with it. He called the girl from the bar, the one who reminded him of you. He invited her over, took her upstairs to his room, gave her a mind-blowing orgasm with minimal effort, but the moment he heard her cry out his name, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep with her. She sounded nothing like you, not even similar enough that he could’ve imagined she was you.

“Thanks for coming over on such short notice, it was good to see you.” Bucky forces himself to break the silence in the elevator. When his eyes land on the girl standing a few inches to his left, she offers him a genuine smile.

“Of course, I had a good time. I wish you would’ve let me make things even though.” She says, referring to the way Bucky had gotten her off but then briskly offered to walk her back downstairs. He nods slowly, tracing the backs of his teeth with the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah, maybe next time.” There won’t be a next time, not when he’s stuck thinking about how hard it was to imagine the girl being you. A few minutes later, Bucky’s guest is riding off into the night in the car he called for her. He’s left standing in front of the tower, feeling the full effects of the sex pollen as he enters the peak hour of its activity. There it is, that undeniable urge to fuck.

You’re sitting in an armchair by your bedroom window, munching on a bowl of strawberries that you settled on as a late-night snack, when you hear one set of footsteps coming down the hall. It’s the sound of Bucky returning to his room alone. You have to wonder if the sex pollen decreased his stamina. It must have, otherwise his little guest would’ve been here for at least another hour or two. You make a mental note to research that in some of the old HYDRA files tomorrow, out of sheer curiosity. As you sit there in your chair, licking a drop of strawberry juice off of your bottom lip, you can’t help but wonder what the hell Bucky’s doing. By your calculations, he should be experiencing the worst of the sex pollen effects right now, yet he’s alone in his room. You remind yourself that he doesn’t want your help, that he doesn’t need your help. You tell yourself that he probably took care of every urge he had with the girl that he invited over earlier, and then you try to focus on your snack and the TV show you have playing quietly on your TV.

When you hear the distant sound of a pained grunt coming from the other side of your bedroom wall, every muscle in your body goes rigid. You quickly pause your show and set your empty bowl on the small table beside your armchair. Only a few seconds go by before you hear another grunt, followed by the sound of what you surmise is Bucky’s fist colliding with something in his room. Before your mind has a moment to attempt a rational thought process, your feet are carrying you out of your own room and down the hallway to Bucky’s closed door. Your fist is rapping against his door softly at first, knowing he’s awake and you don’t have to be very loud for him to hear you. No answer. You knock again, a little harder this time, hoping he hasn’t stroked out from a spike in his blood pressure. Still, no answer. The third time you knock, you use the side of your fist instead of your knuckles, and you bang on his door so hard that you feel it rattle on its hinges.

Bucky heaves a deep sigh before unlocking the door and pulling it open, knowing you’ll be standing on the other side of it. Just the sight of you has Bucky’s already hard cock twitching in his sweats and he has to avert his gaze, choosing to look over your shoulder instead of right at you.

“I would’ve answered the first time if I wanted to talk to you right now.” Bucky says coldly. A chorus of go away’s play on repeat in his mind as he wishes with every fiber of his being that you’d do just that.

“You didn’t sleep with her, did you?” One look at Bucky’s disheveled state, his messy hair, the sheen of sweat making his chest and abs gleam under the dim lights of the hallway, and the way his breaths are coming in much more shallow than usual, tells you that you’re right. Bucky meets your gaze for a brief second, and his eyes give you the answer his mouth won’t. He didn’t sleep with her. “How bad is it?”

“I’ve been through this before.” Bucky reminds you, running a hand through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut. You’re standing in front of him wearing a pair of gray joggers, a little cropped tank top, and a light cardigan over your shoulders. He knows that tank top well. If the lighting was a little better, he’d be able to see straight through the thin fabric of it. God, he needs you to leave. “Like I said earlier, if I need help, I have people I can call.”

“You called someone and it clearly didn’t help, Bucky.” Just the sound of his name leaving your lips has him biting the inside of his cheek.

“Go to bed.” His tone is authoritative now. But of course, you’d never take an order from him. Especially not when he’s so obviously miserable. Your eyes drift down his torso, taking in the sight of the super soldier that stands before you nearly drowning in a chemically-induced state of arousal. You don’t really know why it pains you to see him like this, why it pains you that he keeps rejecting your help, but you’ve had enough. When you continue to stand in front of Bucky, defying his order for you to go to bed, he drops his hand from his hair and narrows his eyes at you. As you make eye contact with him, an unfamiliar warmth begins to spread along the surface of your skin. Maybe that’s what made you do it, maybe the warmth is what made you start taking your clothes off. You don’t really know what it was, but once you started you knew you wouldn’t stop.

Your fingers begin carefully tugging on the drawstring of your joggers, loosening the tied knot as you look into Bucky’s conflicted blue eyes. You continue watching him as his gaze darts down to the motion of your hands, his eyes widening as he realizes what you’re doing.

“What can I do to help?” You ask the question in a whisper. It’s obvious what you’re offering and it has Bucky’s mind racing. He’s wanted you in his bed since the day he met you, but you never gave in to his chase. He’s sure that you’re only giving in now because you think that he needs you to, because you’re ever the kind, helpful girl next door for him. You’ve finished untying the drawstring of your pants and you’re letting the cardigan slip off of your shoulders, baring even more of your skin to him, when Bucky has to stop you. He reaches out with both hands, catching the soft fabric of your sweater in his hands and pulling it back up to cover your shoulders.

“You can go to bed, that would be really fucking helpful.” Bucky rasps. The fingertips of his flesh hand graze over the skin of your shoulder as he sets your cardigan back in its place, and the contact sends a fresh wave of primal need throughout his body. That wave of need is quickly followed by a horrible ache that forces him to draw his hands back to his sides and clench his fists.

“Bucky, stop rejecting me.” A sudden boldness comes over you and you find yourself placing both palms against his chest and pushing him back into his room. He doesn’t fight you as you take two steps inside and shut the door behind you, letting the room engulf both of you in near-darkness.

“Rejecting you? You’ve rejected me since we met.” Bucky scoffs, falling back to sit on the foot of his bed. He brings his elbows to his knees and lets his head dip down to rest in his hands. He may not be watching you, but he’s listening intently as you strip off your cardigan and drop it in the armchair by his window.

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to sleep with the guy who slept with everyone. But now we’re friends, and I’m not going to sit next door while you suffer through this alone.” Bucky dares to sneak a glance at you through his hands. You’re standing a foot in front of him, now in just your sweats and tank top, with your hands on your hips. God, your hips. He’s imagined holding onto those hips while he fucks you from behind so many times. His eyes flutter closed as he lets out a groan. “Bucky, please.” You saying please in such a circumstance is what breaks him.

When Bucky pushes himself off of the foot of the bed and comes to stand only a few inches in front of you, you take half a second to wonder if you’ve just opened a dangerous can of worms.

“Think about what you’re offering.” Bucky’s voice is shaky, but his gaze is hardened as he looks into your eyes. “This isn’t just some favor between friends.” You stay quiet for a moment as you run through the scenario in your head. You imagine going through with it and having sex with him, fulfilling his needs and lessening the pain that he feels from the sex pollen. You imagine the sun rising in the morning and the two of you pretending like nothing ever happened. Why does that last part make you feel uneasy? The idea of sleeping with him tonight doesn’t seem to bother you in the least, but the idea of going right back to normal tomorrow doesn’t sit so well with you.

“I think it’s better if we don’t think about it.” Without letting another thought through your mind, you grasp the waistband of your joggers and begin pushing them down your thighs. As more and more of your skin is revealed to Bucky, his heart rate picks up and his breath hitches in his throat. When you stand up straight in front of him, with your joggers now lying on his bedroom floor, he has to bite his bottom lip to keep from grabbing you and throwing you down on his bed. You can see the wheels in his mind turning as he overthinks this. It’s the thing he’s wanted since he met you, being offered to him on a silver platter, but he can’t stop thinking about how this could ruin the most real friendship that he’s had since Steve. You do the only thing you can think to do to break him out of his thoughts. You step forward and take both of his hands in yours, guiding them up to your face. When his palms make contact with either side of your jaw, his thumbs are quick to begin caressing your cheeks, as if the gentle touch is instinct for him, as if the two of you have done this countless times before. “I said don’t think about it.”

His blue eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation, but he finds none. So, he takes the leap. Bucky leans in and closes the gap between the two of you, his lips finding yours in the darkness. With the first brush of his lips against yours, your eyes flutter closed and you’re at his mercy. You part your lips to accept him, feeling a rush of heat travel through your body as he sucks on your bottom lip gently. You didn’t expect a kiss from Bucky Barnes to be so gentle. You expected it to be hasty, used as a means to an end rather than for the simple pleasure of kissing. But Bucky kisses like it’s as vital to his being as breathing. His tongue glides along your top lip slowly, feeling his way into your mouth before fully tasting you. As soon as his tongue tangles with yours, he pulls back, his hands still cupping either side of your face.

“You taste like strawberries.” He says, licking his lips as he peers down at you with narrowed eyes. Blush creeps into your cheeks, you can’t tell if he’s saying that as a good thing or a bad thing with the hard-to-read expression on his face. Another lick of his lips and a smile begins to tug on the corners of his mouth. “You taste like strawberries.” He repeats, going back for more. This time, you experience the less gentle kiss that you initially expected from him. He wastes no time in sliding his tongue back into your mouth and letting it work in tandem with yours. As he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his vibranium hand slides down and wraps around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. His flesh hand ghosts over your jawline, along the side of your neck, and then you feel him wrap it around your throat just lightly enough that you notice it. Something about having his hand around your throat sets a fire ablaze inside of you, and before you know it, your hands are flat on his chest. You almost wish he had a shirt on so you could grip onto the fabric and tug him further into you.

Bucky’s losing his mind. He’s losing his goddamn mind because you’re in his bedroom, your pants are on his floor, and you’re kissing him back. You’re kissing him and you taste like strawberries. The longer you let him kiss you like this, with one of his hands wrapped lightly around your throat and the other resting dangerously close to your ass, the more his fuckboy ways start to evaporate right through his skin. Kissing you for thirty seconds makes him rethink his entire lifestyle.

You’re the one to pull back this time, you pull back the moment Bucky shifts his stance and you feel the outline of his fully erect cock pressing against your lower stomach. This time when you part, his gaze is so much softer. As much as you’re enjoying kissing him, you know that’s not what he needs right now. Taking matters into your own hands, you move past Bucky and sit on the foot of his bed. His eyes follow every move you make.

“Are you sure about this?” He has to ask. He has to know that he isn’t taking advantage of you and your friendship before this goes any further. He isn’t so sure he’ll be able to stop once he’s really touched you, so he’s offering you an out now. When you nod, keeping your eyes on Bucky, he lets out a soft sigh of relief. Your eyes follow him as he moves around the bed to the nightstand and pulls open the top drawer. After pulling out a little square packet and dropping it on top of the bed, he looks over at you once more. “You’ll tell me if I’m too rough?”

“I trust you.” You whisper. Bucky’s eyes darken as his pupils dilate even more and he begins walking back to the foot of the bed, coming to stand right in front of you.

“You trust me.” He repeats the words slowly, savoring them. You trust him. He looks down at you with an even mix of lust and admiration, but you only notice the lust. Raising his right hand up, he tucks your hair behind one ear and then traces a line from the point of your jaw to the tip of your chin with his index finger. Bucky curls that finger beneath your chin and tilts your face upward. The way your eyes pierce his, he feels like you’re looking straight into his soul, like you’re seeing every darkened corner within him that he’s tried so hard to hide. Instead of feeling vulnerable, he feels at home under your watchful stare.

Bucky tilts his head to the side and his eyes flit behind you to the expanse of the bed, signaling that he wants you to move back onto it. You do just that, turning over so your back is to him as you crawl further up on the mattress. A soft groan from Bucky lets you know he likes the view already, and you smile to yourself. You always knew he was attracted to you, but having the extra confirmation now really feeds your confidence. You can hear the rustling of fabric behind you and when you turn over once again to lay on your back, holding yourself up on your elbows, you see that Bucky has tossed his sweatpants onto the floor beside yours. Now, you see your friend, standing before you in only a pair of black boxers. Your breath hitches in your throat when your eyes land on the bulge beneath the thin fabric.

“Oh my god, you’re so big.” Your eyes widen and dart back up to meet Bucky’s. Of course, he has a smug smile plastered across his face.

“You couldn’t have guessed that?” He asks, placing one knee on the foot of the bed as he looks you over.

“I never thought about it.” You find yourself staring at it again, but Bucky blocks your view when he starts crawling over your body.

“You don’t have to lie, sweetheart.” Bucky tsks, resting his body weight on you as he leans in and kisses your neck. You find yourself tilting your head to the side to give him more access, loving the way he alternates between licking and sucking your skin. “God, you taste like strawberries, you smell like strawberries.” Bucky grunts against your neck before sitting back on his knees between your legs. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.” He says quietly, analyzing your expression. You study his face for a moment, taking in his flushed cheeks, the way his chest is rapidly rising and falling, and even the way the tips of his ears are turning pink. His blood pressure is spiking.

You push yourself up to a sitting position and without thinking, you tug your tank top over your head, tossing it on the floor and completely baring your chest to Bucky.

“Fuck.” The curse falls from his lips as his eyes devour your nearly naked body. It takes him a few seconds to compose himself and focus. When you start shimmying out of your panties, he moves to stand on the floor beside the bed, squeezing his eyes shut as he takes his own boxers off. He’s worried if he gets one look at you completely naked in his bed, he’ll start cumming and because of the sex pollen, he won’t stop.

“Look at me.” Your voice is too kind, too sweet for someone so willing to be fucked. But Bucky listens, opening his eyes and meeting your gaze. His hand is fisting around his cock within a second, stroking it as he looks not at your body, but into your fucking soul. “You’re supposed to be letting me help you.” You remind him, fighting the urge to look down at where he’s touching himself. Bucky groans again but starts climbing back over you, his hard cock dragging along the skin of your thigh as he situates himself over you but slightly to one side, resting his weight on one elbow.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky presses a kiss to your lips. It’s a kiss he meant to be quick and reassuring, but neither of you could resist deepening it. So, he licks into your mouth once again, loving the way you taste, and you feel his right hand sliding down your stomach. His fingertips ghost lightly over your thigh at first, testing the waters, but you don’t flinch away. He has to make sure you can take him. He knows he’s big, and he has no idea how long it’s been since the last time you were with someone. When his hand ventures between your legs, you spread them without hesitation, continuing to kiss him with a growing desperation. The moment Bucky lets his fingertips glide along your wet folds, he can’t stop himself from rutting against your thigh. “You’re so wet for me, fuck.” A soft hum leaves your lips but it’s quickly transformed into a moan when Bucky applies pressure to your clit and begins to circle the pads of his fingers over it. Sparks of pleasure ignite, urging you to spread your legs even more and break away from his mouth to take in a gasp of air.

“Bucky, you don’t have to—” You’re cut off by your own cry when Bucky abandons your clit and slips two fingers inside of you, sending them only halfway as he watches between your legs. He’s in awe of you. Your back arches off of his mattress and he’s so tempted to kiss and lick all over your breasts, but he can’t ignore the overwhelming ache in his lower stomach and cock for much longer. He curls his fingers against your walls slowly, turning to watch your face this time. He studies you as your eyes scrunch closed and your mouth parts to let a heavy pant past your lips. You look fucking perfect. He knows the longer he delays his own release, the worse he’ll feel physically. He can already hear the blood rushing in his ears and feels the pain throughout his body worsening with every sound you make, but he wants this to be good for you. He needs this to be good for you. So, Bucky begins dragging his fingers out and then pushing them right back in, over and over again. He works you up to being able to take them deeper and deeper until he can’t push them in any more. That’s when he leans into you and leaves light kisses across your right cheek and temple. You find yourself leaning into his touch.

“I can’t wait anymore.” Bucky grunts, as he pulls his fingers out of you slowly one last time. He wants so badly to lick his fingers and taste you, but he knows that if he gets a taste, he won’t ever be able to get over it. He’d spend every day doing whatever the hell he had to do just to get more. Instead, Bucky slides those two wet fingers over the head of his cock, mixing your arousal with his precum and spreading it down the shaft. He gives it a few strokes, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he begins to feel just the slightest bit of relief inside his body. But it isn’t enough. Bucky lets go of his cock and leans over you, reaching across the bed to grab the condom he placed there earlier. When he rolls onto his back and begins tearing the small wrapper open, you take matters into your own hands.

Bucky damn near feels butterflies when you move to straddle him, bracing your hands on his bare chest as you swing a leg over him.

“Just give me a second.” Bucky grunts, his eyes darting between the half open condom wrapper and where you’re lowering yourself down over him. He gets the condom out of the wrapper but freezes when he feels your dripping cunt grind along the shaft of his cock. “Shit, be careful.” He warns you through gritted teeth. You know you really should be careful. Hell, he’s slept with so many girls just in the last month that you should be using any and every form of protection out there. Not to mention the fact that both the super soldier serum and sex pollen really ramped up his reproductive system, increasing his sperm count and motility like crazy. The man could easily save the human race from extinction if he was the last viable male on Earth. But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when you begin grinding down and circling your hips against him, reveling in the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your clit. You drag your hips back and forth as Bucky’s hands move to grip you there, with the unwrapped condom still in his right hand. You can feel that little piece of latex between his palm and your hip. The thought crosses your mind so briefly, but once the seed is planted, there’s no going back. Feeling the condom all rolled up between Bucky’s hand and your hip is really what planted the seed. You want to feel him inside you, without a damn thing in between. So, you grind along the length of his cock once more, but when you near the tip, you continue sliding forward on it and grinding down until you feel it against your entrance, and then you grind down a little harder, angling your hips just right so it starts to slide in.

“Oh my god.” You moan out, letting your head fall back as you reach down with one hand and start fully guiding him inside of you. Bucky can only watch, his grip on your hips getting impossibly tighter. You’ve only taken in the head of his cock when you still yourself, trying your best to adjust to his ample size. You feel a mix of stinging pain and pleasure, but he did such a thorough job of preparing you with his fingers that the sting is minimal.

“I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky pants, scanning your face as you slide down another couple of inches. He’s nearly halfway in now and it’s taking every single ounce of his self-control to keep from pulling your hips down and making you take all of it. Your eyes flutter open and lock onto his.

“I know.” You pair your two little words with the act of forcing yourself to take the rest of his length. Your clit brushes against the base of his cock and for a moment, you actually think he might be too big for you.

“Fuck.” Bucky groans lowly. His eyes scrunch shut even though he so badly wants to keep them wide open and memorize the way you look when you’re being fucking ruined by his cock. His balls feel so full and heavy, even more so than usual with the way the sex pollen is screwing up his reproductive system, and the fact that you’re the one he’s balls deep inside of isn’t helping. You really should’ve let him put on a condom, but he sure as hell isn’t going to stop you now. Bucky releases his hold on your hip with his right hand and lets the unused condom fall from his grasp, watching as it lands on the bed. When he digs his fingers into the skin of your hips once more, the sensation spurs you to attempt moving. You start with slow up and down movements, only fucking half of his cock, unsure if you could manage the whole thing at once. But when you get a look at Bucky’s face, at the way it’s contorted with pleasure yet restrained as if he’s holding himself back, you know you need to give him more. So, you take a deep breath and begin lifting yourself off of his cock. Bucky’s eyes follow, so focused on the way you leave his cock glistening as you pull off of it. When only the head is left inside of you, you breathe out as you sit all the way back down. Fuck, it hurts when he’s all the way in but you don’t want to stop. God, you don’t want to stop for anything. You go again, trying the movement a little faster this time, earning a soft grunt from Bucky and a few bruises on your hips as his hold tightens more.

“Bucky, you’re too big.” You finally say, after sliding down onto his length the third time. You want to ride his dick and do as much of the work for him as you can right now, but there’s just no way. There’s no way you can pick up the pace and set a good rhythm when he’s so fucking thick and long that you feel him in your stomach every time you sit down. You don’t have the time that you’d need to adjust, you don’t want to make him wait for you to be ready for it. So, you need a new position. Bucky understands immediately. As much as he was loving seeing you fuck his cock all by yourself, his insides are screaming at him to take control and do whatever he needs to do to get himself off.

Bucky eases you down onto his full length one more time, simultaneously hating and loving the way you cringe once you’re fully seated. Then, in one quick, smooth movement, he captures your hands in his and tugs you down to his chest, before rolling both of you over so he’s on top.

“We can save that for next time.” Bucky promises, positioning himself so that the majority of his weight rests on his forearms on either side of your head. As soon as the words have left his mouth, you realize what he’s just said, but he doesn’t. He leans down and licks your bottom lip while you’re lying beneath him, with his cock motionless inside you, as you remind yourself that there will never be a next time. Bucky’s a fuckboy through and through, you’ve never known him to sleep with the same girl twice, and you can’t imagine anything about tonight is going to change that. “Are you adjusted?” He asks, pulling back from your face to look into your eyes. You bend your knees a little and take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you focus on your senses. No pain. You nod your head and let your hands ghost along Bucky’s sides.

“Are you always this gentle and thoughtful in bed?” The question sneaks past your lips before you can stop it, but Bucky chuckles as he begins to pull his hips back, sliding his cock out of you inch by inch.

“You think I’m gentle and thoughtful?” Of course he’d take your question as a compliment. Or…maybe not. Bucky shoots you a mischievous look before biting down on his bottom lip and snapping his hips forward, thrusting into you so hard that your back arches off of the bed and your breasts press up against the skin of his bare chest. He took it as a fucking challenge.

“I take it back.” You whine. You dig your nails into the skin of his back hoping to draw a little pain from him, but truthfully, he loves it. He begins slowly dragging his cock back out of you while you’re wondering how the hell he’s still so composed and restrained. “I thought being exposed to a sex pollen would’ve made this a quick, sort of desperate kind of thing.”

“Is that what you wanted?” Another snap of his hips and you’re filled with his cock again.

“I didn’t say that, it’s just what I expected. Does it not make you feel like fucking the shit out of anyone you can get your hands on?” Your fingers dance up his sides until they’re tangled in his messy hair. Another slow drag of his hips and you’re feeling nearly empty.

“It does, but like I said, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me.” He freezes with his cock halfway out of you. Your own eyes widen at your unexpected request. Where the hell did your filter go? You didn’t even mean it the way it sounds, you just meant that you don’t want him to keep holding back for your sake. “I meant—”

“I know what you meant.” Bucky grunts, clearly turned on by the presumed meaning behind your words. He lowers himself down until his body weight feels like a warm, thick blanket covering every inch of your body. He’s giving you what you want. The talking part is over, you realize, as Bucky lets his forehead fall into the crook of your neck and slides his knees beneath your thighs, opening you up for him even more.

Then, he fucks you. He sets a rhythm and pace so desperate and unforgiving that every thrust causes the mattress to bounce you right back up against him. No matter how much he pulls out, you continuously feel the presence of his cock inside you. Every breath he breathes against your neck, every time his lips ghost over your skin, every needy grunt that meets your ears feeds you like a dose of ecstasy. The atmosphere is reduced to the sounds of skin on skin, panting breaths, and obscene curses and moans falling from parted lips. Bucky fucks you more thoroughly than he’s fucked anyone in the last two months. When he hears your moans increase in pitch and your breaths becoming more and more shallow, he drives his cock into you harder and deeper, making sure his name is the only thing on your mind. You give him no warning when your orgasm begins to tear through your body, but you don’t have to. Your cunt grips his cock so tightly that pulling out to thrust into you is damn near painful, so Bucky begins grinding into you, moving his hips in rhythmic circles. When your breaths begin to come a little easier, Bucky’s own release is threatening to spill over, so he starts to slow his hips and pull out of you. He isn’t wearing a condom and he knows this won’t be a small mess by any means.

But you, the girl next door, the girl who tastes like fucking strawberries, you slide your hands down and grab his hips every bit as harshly as he grabbed yours earlier, and you pull him further into you. An orgasm hits him like a fucking freight train. It wasn’t even the sensation of being inside you that sent him over the edge, as heavenly as that was. No, it was the fact that you wouldn’t let him pull out. The fact that you didn’t even let him wear a condom. The fact that you’re you and you’re so desperate for his cum that you’d hold him there and take it like you had a right to. After three seconds, Bucky’s surpassing a normal amount of cum, and both of you are fully aware of it.

“It won’t stop, fuck.” Bucky groans against your neck as he slowly ruts into you, trying to get himself through his orgasm. “There’s so much cum.”

“That’s okay, it’s okay, Bucky.” You whisper, moving your hands back up to his head and carding your fingers through his hair. “I can take it.”

Shit. He might be in love with you.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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lymtw · 25 days

Text

Lazy days with Toji where you're sitting between his legs, just basking in his presence. You're laid back against his chest, scrolling through your socials, while he attempts to focus on whatever is playing on the TV screen. His arms are wrapped around your waist, securely, and his chin rests on your shoulder as he watches the movie you put on.

It's practically background noise for you because you're not paying attention, but when you're the one not focused, Toji takes the hit for it too because you constantly interrupt him by showing him videos of food with the promise of making it for him someday. You're also feeding him your broken humor in the form of memes, and though he doesn't find the actual images you show him funny, he cracks up at the way you laugh so hard that you squirm uncontrollably against him in your fit of laughter. He rolls his eyes with a sly smirk on his face at your giggles in the aftermath of your laughter, but still, he can't help but wonder how he got you.

You settle against him again, allowing him to keep watching the movie in peace, only now he sees no point in it. He's lost on the plot, and it's not as interesting without you going 'You like tomatoes, right? Or... at least tomato sauce, right?' or something food related every three minutes. His hands are moving now, his arms still around your lower stomach. You pay no mind to it because he's probably doing it mindlessly.

You're no stranger to him placing his hands on you while completing other tasks. You see his nonchalant front as he makes his way towards you but as soon as he rounds the corner, you can feel the wolfish grin radiating as he comes up behind you. He's there for a mug, but he'll do extra to show you that he's there behind you. He'll grab your hips and pull you back until your ass is against his crotch. Sometimes you resist the pull to mess with him, but he always manages to pull your body into his, a bite to your shoulder following as "punishment" for rejecting him.

For the strangest reason, his advances shook you this time. One hand felt up your bare outter thigh, following the expanse of it until he couldn't reach anymore. Then he went to the underside of it, squeezing the flesh a couple times. Your heart was pounding, but you stayed focused on your phone, or attempted to once his other hand started teasing the knot of the bow tied above your waistband.

He slowly unraveled the knot, allowing the elastic band of your shorts to loosen and give his hand more space. You think he's watching the movie, but really, he's watching you react through his peripheral vision. His hand travels further down your shorts, his middle finger ghosting your slit through your underwear. The touch is barely there, but it has your stomach doing cartwheels. He sighs, his fingers going back up to the lace trimming of your underwear. The sound just barely reached your ears, but it had a lasting effect as he continued to let his hands roam your lower body. He puts his fingers through the left leg hole of your underwear, the digits snapping the elastic against your hip.

You found another video to show him, but you saved it instead to show him later. You don't know exactly what is running through his mind, but it's completely welcome if it involves him continuing to touch you this way.

His fingers drag back down to your slit, this time applying more pressure. You twitch against him, earning that sly grin that appears when he knows he's working you up. You try to ground yourself and keep it together a little longer by putting your leg up, only for Toji to push it back down onto the couch.

"What's wrong, mama?" He mumbles into your shoulder. "Getting real fidgety outta nowhere."

"I'm okay," you assure, turning to give him a kind smile.

He takes it up a notch, allowing his hand to go under your sweater. He uses the privilege he has on your body so adeptly that even his hand placements are enough to force heat to run through you. The feeling of his hand grazing your skin fuels the fire that is kindled within you. He lets his blunt nails drag along the left side of your waist, slowly merging toward your midriff and upwards, before reaching the bottom of your bra. It's no restriction to him, he can just go under it.

He hums, feeling the blood rush down to his dick at the feeling of your warm breast in his hand. It only takes one brush of his finger to make your nipple quickly harden, a feeling that makes you feel like you're buzzing with electricity.

Toji is so well versed in your anatomy, it kind of embarrasses you sometimes that he doesn't have to try so hard to soften you up. He did so well at memorizing your body that he doesn't really have to look anymore to know that his touch is affecting you. That is not to be mistaken for him not wanting to watch his effects take a toll on you, because he would gladly watch you submissively fall apart for hours.

Your stomach tenses as he combines both forms of stimulation, a muffled moan coming from you as fall back on Toji's chest, your sleeve over your mouth.

He laughs at the way your eyes flutter shut, your brows pinching when he doesn't let up even after you waved your white flag. You know better than to think he'd let you walk away without making you cum on his fingers at least once.

"Why are you muting yourself, ma?" He breathes against your ear. "Don't you know it gets me hard when you whine and moan for me?"

You sigh, your phone shaking in your grip. "O-Okay, Toji. Won't do it again," you say in the most delicate tone. You turn your phone screen off and give your undivided attention to Toji and his torturous touch.

"Right. You wanna cum, don't you?"

"Mhm," you mumble, setting your hands down on his thighs.

"Oh, you can do better than that. Tell me you want to cum." His lips find the side of your neck, nudging the material of your sweater aside so that he can ghost the slope that leads to your shoulder. The urge to bite the exposed skin is almost unbearable.

Your hips roll slightly against his crotch, earning a slight groan from him. His cock is rock hard, but he's gonna get you off first since he was the one who got you all riled up in the first place. "Please make me cum, Toji. Please? Pretty please?"

Your words go straight to his dick. You've always been so well mannered—so good at begging for what you want. Being Toji's lover turned you even more politely submissive. Does this mean you deserve to cum quickly every time? Not in Toji's reality because he loves to see the feral look in your bleary eyes when he leaves you hanging.

He chuckles, quickening the movements of the hand teasing your drooling pussy. "Taught you how to beg real good, huh? Who knows what the bratty side of you would bring out of me."

"F-Fuck, fuck Toji," you inhale, exhaling shakily as his hands pause to switch positions.

"I could tame that side of you, too," he says in a taunting tone, as if daring you to rebel against him someday. "I'd get you in this exact position, even if you wanna be a stuck up little princess." His right hand snakes up your sweater, repeating the same process as before of exploring your skin before getting to your breast.

"Mm-mm, no," you whine, squirming in his hold. "'M only good for you, T-Toji."

"Yeah? I'll hold you accountable if it turns out otherwise," he murmurs into your shoulder, his voice like drizzling honey in contrast to the threat. He can feel you gushing even more, his fingers collecting more slick with every up and down of his fingers. "Fuck, you considering it now?"

"N-No I wouldn't... Toji, I wouldn't." Your hands squeeze his thighs, refraining from using your nails.

"Then why'd your cunt start drooling even more when I told you what would happen?"

"Toji..." you whine, your cheeks burning up.

He chuckles, "S'all good, ma. I got you."

"T-Toji, I- Can I cum? Please, please, Toji?"

"Already? I just started, princess. Can you hold it?" He asks, slowing his strokes.

"I don't t-think so... 'm sorry, please..."

He sighs, no trace of disappointment in the sound, rather pride for turning you into a sloppy mess in such a short span of time.

"You'll have to make it up to me. Didn't last very long, you know?" He rolls your nipple between his fingers, amused by the way your body vibrates at the overwhelming stimulation.

"Mhm... yes, Toji. Whatever you want."

He can't hold back the wicked grin that forms at your thoughtless, pleading words for mercy.

"'Kay, mama. Make it worth it."

His fingers make direct contact with your pussy for the first time since he started playing with you. His thumb focused on your clit, while his middle and index finger tease your entrance. His lips go for your neck again, planting wet kisses on the warm skin. He's so overwhelming in every aspect when he makes you cum. You're entirely suffocated by him and you love it.

You don't last another five seconds before completely falling apart on Toji, crying out his name followed by a barrage of moans. Your back arched and your legs came up to assist you in squeezing the life out of Toji's hand. Had he not braced you with the one arm he had up your sweater, you would have completely slid down his body and laid there curled up in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"Up, mama. Stay up," he instructs. His hand goes flat on your chest, pressing you against him to keep you as steady as possible as you writhe in soul crushing pleasure.

Eventually, you go limp, laying your legs flat on the couch again. Toji chuckles, sadistically, at the broken down husk that remains of you. He attempts to bring you back to life by prodding at your overstimulated cunt and you react the way he expected, pushing at his arm to stop it.

He pulls his hands out of their designated areas, wiping your cum off on his sweatpants. "Hey," he calls, poking your forehead when he notices you dozed off.

"Mm..." you hum, in response. You roll your eyes open with a lazy grin etched on your face, an expression that added pressure to the brick in Toji's pants.

"Let's go to the bed. Fucking is not gonna be comfortable here." He traces your jaw with his fingers.

"I can't walk," you mumble, exaggerating to get him to carry you.

"Oh, you poor baby," he mocks. "That won't be a lie once i'm done with you."

You use every ounce of effort to push yourself forward to try and crawl away from him, but he pulls you back by the arm and secures you in his hold again. You giggle as he wraps your legs around his waist.

"Trynna pull a fast one on me?" He chuckles. "Well, aren't you precious?" He pushes off the couch using his foot to boost his momentum, a groan leaving him as he adjusts to standing after sitting for so long.

You surrender yourself to him willingly. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, getting drunk off his scent, and watch as the light that illuminates the living room disappears out of sight when you reach the bedroom.

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miirohs · 7 months

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braid my hair while i hold your heart [m.d.l]

pairing: OPLA!Monkey D. Luffy x Fem!Reader wc: 0.4k cw: n/a an: another one for yall thirsties, i feel oddly inspired. getting hair in ur eyes is a very real issue btw- have i mentioned how much i want to see how fluffy luffys hair could get?

You leaned against the railing of the crows nest, breeze blowing strands of hair from your face.

The sky was a pale blue and orange as the sun seem to fall closer to the horizon, glare skipping across the gentle waters. The boat was drifting, oddly quiet for once.

"Y/n!"

The sound of elastic snapping turned you around, Luffy standing on the rail. In his hands was a bouquet, flowers shining and vibrant in the setting sun. You had no time to ask what they were, as he dropped them, rushing to you.

"Luffy-" Before you could finish, he rushed into your open arms, sweeping you into a bone crushing hug. Spinning around, you both collapsed to the floor, pinned down on your sides.

"Hey- Hey! What's all that for?! You're suffocating me!" You laughed, trying to wiggle out of his grip. You rolled over him and pinned him down, blowing raspberries.

He didn't seem the least bit surprised though. The rough-housing wasn't uncommon, his way of initiating contact between the both of you.

His hands were wrangled up in your hair, a delighted look on his face as he clutched at small strands, curling them around his finger. The sun seemed to reflect in his eyes, lighting up with joy.

He always seem to find a way to brush his finger through your hair, untangling the knots with a gentleness you could only describe as familiar.

"You really like playing with my hair, don't you?" you asked, a playful grin on your face.

He nodded, pushing you off him so that he could sit up.

"Do you want me to do your hair? your hair gets so tangled from the wind, i wonder how you manage to work with it blowing crazy." He exclaimed as you got pushed yourself back up, shaking your head.

"Sure thing. One question though, do you know how to do braids?" You asked, picking at your nails as he shuffled behind you.

"Mmm, nope. I'm sure i could figure it out though."

"I'll leave you to it then," You said, legs dangling out the gaps of the crows nest as you looked down.

You could hear him mumbling to himself as he tried different techniques, and the occasional tug of your hair making you yelp a little, always ending with a hushed apology from him.

If it weren't for those little tugs, you might have fallen asleep, drifting in between sleep and staying awake. Eventually, you leaned against the wooden planks, drifting off for good.

It wasn't until a little while later that you were gently roused from your peaceful half-slumber.

The sun had set for good, and the sky was a pale shade of blue and orange, streaked with clouds.

Luffy now sitting beside you, looking out at the horizon. His hat was pulled low over his eyes, and he seemed lost in thought.

"Hi Luffy."

He turned his head to look at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Hey, Y/n, you were sleeping pretty soundly there. Feel better now?"

"Mmm. Did you finish yet?" You stifled a yawn, stretching wide.

"Yeah! “Hey- hey turn around for me, let me see you!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands. You obliged, turned your head as you gave a bashful smile.

"See, you look perfect.”

"Perfect, huh?" you chuckled, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

"Yeah! The flowers were definitely a good touch. You look like a sea princess now! Wait, maybe you could be my sea queen when i become king of the seas!" He rambled as you reached over for what was left of the flowers.

"Where'd you get these? These are beautiful," You whispered, holding one in your hand to get a better whiff of its scent.

Luffy snapped his fingers, excitedly waving his hands. "Nami saw them on the island, and I thought they looked like they'd make you smile."

"Thank you Luffy, so much," You whispered shyly.

"You're welcome, Y/n! I'm glad you like them. And if you want more flowers, just let me know. I'll get you a whole garden!" He exclaimed.

His eyes seemed illuminated by the stars, shining and glazed over as he watched your expression closely.

"Oh no, are you going to cry? Did i do something wrong?" He fretted.

"Nope, i'm just feeling a little overwhelmed. We should probably go to bed."

"Lets just sleep here then!" He patted the spot next to him, and you crouched down, grinning.

"Alright, but you better not mess up my hair."

"I won't, promise!"

#opla #opla x reader #opla luffy #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #luffy fanfic #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #straw hat pirates #one piece live action spoilers #one piece live action #opla x y/n #luffy #op live action #op x reader #op x you #op x y/n

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mysticmunson · 8 months

Text

pink smoothies

alpha!steve harrington x omega!reader

summary: following date night, steve is wondering where you’ve run off to, until he spots you at the mall.

word count: 830

an: i wrote this in one sitting but i hope you enjoy this little ficlet to add more lore to this au. i’d like to make this a thing so please request haha. hope you enjoy :)

Steve didn’t consider himself a clingy person, he loved his friends, but he was also content with space, sometimes he needed it too.

This sentiment was soon discarded after you presented, feeling an urge to spend every moment with you. To his misery, you had seemingly vanished over the past few days, and Robin hadn’t cracked on revealing your location.

The last place he expected to see you was the newly rebuilt Hawkins Mall, wearing a flowing dress that ended at your mid thigh. Sipping the straw of a strawberry smoothie, you glanced around, not reaching his eyes.

Without thinking, he walked up, grabbing you by the upper arm and ignoring the way his dick twitched at your squeak in surprise.

“Steve?” You reply, breathless, after he shoved you both into a janitor's closet in the hallway beside the food court.

If looks could kill, you’d be a puddle on the ground. He towered over you, chest heavy with labored breaths as he took in your intimidated eyes as you set down your drink.

A game of cat and mouse was simple on paper, but when you’re chosen to be the prey, it is anything but.

“What’s new, honey?” He asks, hands brushing your elbows, putting you closer as your hands rested on his chest.

He thrived on the wavering gasp you expedited, fingers curling against his polo.

“I was waiting for someone.” You whisper, though the bustling walkways would mask any conversation.

Head cocking to the side, “Who, sweetheart?”

Gulping down your tempted responses, you felt your back touch the yellow wall.

“Trevor Johnson,” You mumble, watching the dark tone cover his once light iris’, “my parents found out I presented, Steve, they set me up on dates with alphas.”

Jealousy bubbling at the thought of you going on multiple dates, he let his hands trail down to your hips, feeling the elastic of your underwear through the thin cotton of your sundress.

“Oh really? And how’s that worked out?” He gawks with a condescending tone, already knowing that he could sense himself on you from across the cafeteria.

“They all say I smell like I’ve been claimed.” You reveal, toying with the silver chain around his neck.

“Oh, it’s because you have,” He chuckles, “I knotted in you. I could smell me from a mile away, omega.”

The biological title made your knees weak, clutching his shoulders as you felt yourself growing hot.

“Did you not want to see me?” He questions, partially playful as he can feel how flustered you are becoming, but needing reassurance.

“Yes! I just didn’t know if you wanted to see me, I didn’t want to lose you.” You blabber, his cheeky grin dropping at the emotion you’re exhibiting, “My parents wanted me to go on alpha dates because I didn't tell them you helped me, but I don’t like any of the other ones!”

Too flustered to comfort you immediately, Steve’s hand cupped your face before kissing you intensely, moaning at the familiarity of your taste.

His palms wander against your frame, pressing your front as close to his as he could.

“I missed you these past few days.” He confesses, rubbing his cheek against your face before nuzzling against the crook of your neck.

“I missed you so much, I don’t want you to leave.” Your lip quivers, making him look at you once more.

“I’ll go to your mom, wear a nice tux, bring her flowers, whatever. I need you.” He confirms, running his thumb against the apple of your cheek, returning the smile you gave him.

Lost in the moment, you were both startled by an unassuming janitor who went for his broom, and only rolled his eyes before ushering you both out.

Rushing out in hand, the pink drink in your spare hand, you catch a glimpse of Trevor across the way.

Guilt initially comes, but soon dissipates as you watch him flirt with a new omega. Feeling eyes on him, he looks to find you, standing straighter before mouth ‘it’s okay’ and lifting your laced fingers.

A cheesy thumbs up was sent your way before Steve pulled you from the building, going to his maroon BMW. After opening the door for you, he jogged to the driver's side, clicking the buckle.

“Alright, let’s go to my place so I can get my dress clothes, then off to yours.” He announces, taking your hand again once the car started.

Your nod is swift, “Okay, is that all we’re doing?”

A vibration shakes his chest as he laughs briefly, pulling out of the parking spot, “I fully intend on fucking you till you forget anyone else’s name beforehand, but I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

Covering your face in bashfulness, you giggled, already feeling yourself getting more excited. The radio turned on to a random pop station, the wind beginning to blow through his hair and against his sunglasses. You wonder if waiting to be home will be sufficient.

tagging mutuals! @andvys @lilacletter @lesservillain @corrodedcorpses @berryfairy444 @munsonsreputation

#elora writes #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington moodboard #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanart #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #alpha!steve harrington #a/b/o universe #a/b/o

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thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year

Text

The Shoebox Under The Bed

Feb. Request-8

In which Spencer has a box of all of the things Y/N had ever given him and she finds it

Warnings: fluff, kissing, cursing, he gets a lil embarrassed

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

“Babe, do you know where my white heels are?” Y/N asked, walking through her and Spencer’s apartment wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of socks.

It was Valentine’s Day and they had dinner plans. “Uh… check the bedroom closet?” He called from the kitchen.

Y/N hummed and she walked into the kitchen. “Are you excited?” She asked, standing on her tippy toes and kissing his neck innocently.

Spencer smiled and leaned down to kiss her. “So excited.” He nodded.

Y/N damn near squealed. “This is our first Valentine’s together since we moved in with each other!” She said, poking his chest.

“Baby, I love that you’re so excited but it’s 9 am. We don’t have dinner until 7 tonight.” He chuckled.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile. “I knoooooow….” She drew out. “I just wanna be ready. Last year I left my place super late and we almost lost our reservation.”

Spencer shook his head. “Okay, babe. Whatever makes you feel better.”

Y/N squeaked and tore away from him, going to look for her shoes.

In the room, she had searched high and low for those heels but hadn’t even found one.

She sighed and spun around, collapsing on the bed. She shut her eyes, groaning loudly.

After a moment, her left eye peeked open when she got an idea. She got off of the bed and got on her hands and knees next to it. She bit her lip and lifted her arm up to feel around for her phone on her bedside table.

She hummed in victory when she grabbed it and brought it down, turning the flash light feature on.

Underneath the bed lit up and she smiled. She moved clothes and blankets out of the way before her eyes lit up. The black shoebox sat there with a picture of the particular heel she was looking for.

She grabbed it and pulled it out from underneath the bed, opening the box quickly. She was expecting a shoe or two but instead she found a stack of Polaroids, letters, jewelry and a bunch of other tiny gadgets.

She bit her lip when she pulled one of the Polaroids out and studied it. She had been obsessed with taking pictures of things with her camera. In this one, Spencer was holding a lemon and wearing a big wicker sun hat. Why? She couldn’t remember but she smiled and laughed anyway. She remembered she gave it to him on the last day of 7th grade.

Spencer and Y/N grew up together. They realized that they were in love at a very young age.

She looked behind her to make sure that Spencer wasn’t watching from the kitchen and then pulled out one of the letters.

She smiled as she saw the little star she’d drawn by her name.

May 23

Dear Spence,

It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. I still have that sweater you leant me last winter. I wear it all the time. I wish the summer would be over so I can see you again. The last letter you sent me, you said you would come back soon but July 17th isn’t soon enough.

Anyway, how’s your Einstein summer camp going? I read that they teach you how to read minds there. Is it true? If so, can you tell me what I’m thinking about now?

I also got cast as Wendy in our schools summer theater program in Peter Pan. If you make it back home in time you might be able to catch closing night. I hope you can. I would love to look out when we’re doing our bows and see you there.

Anyway, I gotta go. We’re running lines.

See you at my show!

Love

From Y/N <3

She rolled her eyes, wondering why she’d scratched the end out even though Spencer could clearly read it. She tossed the letter aside and bit her lip, digging through the box some more.

Her eyes lit up when she picked up a stupid charm bracelet she’d made for him in fifth grade. It had a pair of glasses next to a star and a bead that had an ‘S’ in the middle.

Her tongue pressed into the inside of her bottom lip as she tied off the end of the elastic string. She glanced behind her seeing Spencer reading a book.

Her heart pounded as she turned and walked towards him. “Uhm… Spencer?” She cleared her throat. He looked up at her, pushing up his glasses.

“I-oh hi, Y/N!” He smiled setting his book down.

She held out the bracelet to him, closing her eyes. “I made this for you.” She spoke quickly.

He took it from her gently and her eyes opened. “Thanks! This is really nice.” He nodded at her.

Y/N smiled to herself, peeking behind her again just to make sure Spencer was still occupied in the kitchen.

The next thing she pulled out was a sock.

Yes, a sock.

Spencer in exchange for a book he was reading asked for something that Y/N held near and dear to her heart. She gave him a sock with Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. She almost cried giving it to him and he almost caved and let her keep it AND the book but she told him that it was fine.

She never gave the book back, he never returned her sock.

She put the sock back in the box and kept digging finding a really dried up daisy flower and a wrapper to a Crunch bar amongst many many other things. She paused when she felt something different.

It was a small velvet box. She pulled it out slowly, biting her lip. “What the fuck?” She whispered. She swallowed, opening the box and almost gasped.

A ring and a receipt sat inside that box. The ring was beautiful. It had a rose gold band with a rose colored diamond—a big ass diamond. She read the receipt, not paying attention to the price but the date.

He had bought that ring ten years before. They hadn’t even been dating then.

Her mouth was agape, she was so in shock that she didn’t even hear Spencer coming.

“Babe did you find your sh— oh my fucking shit.” He groaned. Y/N looked up at him slowly.

“Oh my God, Spencer, I’m so sorry!” She said, shutting the box quickly and shoving back underneath the piles of letters and other stuff. “I was just looking for my shoes, I swear!”

Spencer chuckled and sighed, walking over to sit on the bed in front of her. She bit her lip smiling at him, completely disregarding the ring. “You kept all the stuff I gave you.” She said quietly.

He reached down to cup her cheek. “Of course I did.”

She shut her eyes. “And you bought a ring.” She shook her head, her face heating up. “You bought a ring 10 years ago— we were 15 Spencer!” She smiled.

He blushed. “Well… I just— i knew that it was you, Y/N/N. Ever since you made me that charm bracelet in 5th grade.” He shrugged. “So, I saved up all my money from working at the ice cream shack that one summer and I went and bought it.”

Y/N stared into his eyes with a soft smile on her lips. “I love you.” She whispered.

Spencer smiled and leaned forward to kiss her deeply. “I love you.” He said in between kisses. “But you’re gonna have to wait for me to propose because that was the plan for tonight.” He chuckled.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “Fine.”

So at the end of the night, Spencer proposed to her in front of a bunch of people at the restaurant. She acted like she had no idea it was gonna happen so they’d get free cake.

#spencer reid #spencer fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x original female character #criminal minds #spencer x oc #spencer x reader #crimimal minds #spencer x you

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kastelixa · 6 months

Text

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁✰ You do it to yourself

Title from Just by Radiohead

summary: Giving Leon a shower blowjob right after the events of the gaming situation.

¡This is a continuation of this!

you don’t have to read it but this will make no sense otherwise LOL

cw: Reader has male body parts and is referred to as he/him, smut but no penetration, praise/degradation, Leon is a little condescending, porn and very little plot lol, blowjobs, shower sex?, weird set up, set friendship/relationship.

wc: 3,377

note: Leon and Reader have a rather odd relationship sooo,,, LOL don’t take it too seriously. There’s more of a focus on actions than dialogue, but that’s just because I get lost in the scene. No one asked for this except for that one person on ao3 so this is for you random person that I now love :33

You almost slip on your way to the bathroom, heart lurching out of your chest in the process. Leon laughed, of course he did. “Careful there, sweetheart.” he smirks, all arrogance and teasing. Christ, never fails to get a pout out of you.

“Shut up, asshole.” You grumble in return, though it’s lighthearted. Kinda. You’re all bark and no bite. Someone steps on your tail and the only response you’ll give is a bitchy whine. Leon likes that, a lot. Maybe too much.

He keeps a hand on your arm the whole way, to which you try to ignore. Really, you’re preening under all this attention; you can’t help but stare at Leon. His bulging muscles that flex at the slightest movement, his chest that you just wanna motorboat, those fucking thighs that could crush your head like a watermelon.

He has you wrapped around his finger. As do you to him. Inseparable. Finally reaching the bathroom door, you slap Leon’s hand away when he tries to open it. Cause you’ve gotta do it. No reason to it. Just friendly competition. Of what? Who the fuck knows.

Ignoring his glare, you smirk to yourself cheekily. The smell of jasmine and eucalyptus bombards your nostrils, making you let out a soft hum of delight. Gotta love those Glade air fresheners.

The both of you are practically dying to get into the shower. Dried cum sticking to your inner thighs making your pants feel stuffy and moist is gross and uncomfortable. Gives off a musty scent that makes your nose scrunch up. You’re practically fucking waddling like a penguin, sensory issues all around.

You want to get in first, but being the nice person you are, you gesture to the shower lazily and nod towards it. “Hurry up,” you huff in mock irritation. Leon only raises a brow, already in the process of undressing.

“What?” he mumbles as his arms stretch to pull off his shirt, lovely pecs and chiseled abs making your pupils dilate. “We’re showering together. I thought that was clear?” he says that last part mockingly. Makes you wanna bite him.

“Fuck off. There’s no way we’re gonna fit in my tiny ass shower.” You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest defiantly. Leon rolls his eyes. Typical. You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you? Should shut you up with a cock shoved deep in your throat. Would be a fucking wonder to his ears.

“We’re showering together wether you like it or not. Suck it up,” he frowns. The bastard has the balls to put his hands on you, forcibly yanking your clothing off your body and ignoring your squawks of protest. You have to hold onto his shoulders when he gets to your pants, considering how you almost end up flailing over.

“Besides, it saves water *and* time.” He grinned, as if he cared about *your* damn water bills. It’s not like he’s the one paying them anyways, right? Finally regaining some sort of control, you swat his hands away, wanting to do the rest of the undressing by yourself.

“Fine fine, whatever. Just don’t blame me when you slip and bust your ass.” You grumble, stepping out of your pants which were bunched up at your knees due to Leon’s poor and rather reckless attempts to get them off. Reaching up, your hands pause at the elastic of your boxers, butterflies pooling in your tummy.

Leon notices this and openly stares in amusement, “What? Getting cold feet?” he taunts, making you shoot him a dirty look. “Shut up, just feels weird.” You retort somewhat meekly, unable to maintain eye contact for long.

“Weird?” He parrots, confusion painting his face. “What’s so weird? We just finished humping each other and busting our loads in our pants.” he states crudely, no shards of shame in this man. Absolutely none. He just loves to fluster you, knows it gets to you real good. Fucking funny.

“Jesus, don’t be such a freak,” you scowl. Makes you look cute, that little mad expression on your face. Makes Leon wanna pinch your cheeks and be mean to you some more. It’s like pushing a puppy around. “What? Scared of the truth?” he scoffed. “Just whip it out already.”

“Fuck’s sake, alright alright!” You finally relent, though with some last slivers of hesitation. You decide to bite the bullet, yanking your boxers off in one sloppy motion and kicking out of them. So now you’re just standing there like an idiot, cock and balls out and about.

And Leon’s just fucking staring like the perv he is. He’s doing it on purpose, a smirk on his face and his hands on his hips as if he were examining some enigmatic museum painting. It makes your hands shoot down to cover up, an action that has Leon almost burst out laughing. “Ah, get a hold of yourself. My junk and your junk aren’t so different.” he teases, before fucking finally walking towards the shower to turn it on.

Now you’re the one staring. Of course you are. His ass looks nice, got some pretty cocoa colored birth marks on it. Your hands itch to reach out and just start groping and squeezing to your hearts content. Also, he’s a fucking liar. His dick is way bigger than yours; thicker too. It’s got a mushroom head, uncut, and god does it look tasty.

He’s also hard.

You can tell due to the way his cock stands at attention proudly, twitching against his lower tummy, precum beading at the rosy tip. Would you be able to take that up your ass? Probably not. Doesn’t stop you from craving it though.

Now you’re hard too. And you hate it. Because you know Leon’s gonna say some stupid shit and taunt you. So while he tries to tame the water temperature to be something handleable, you desperately try to tame your cock down.

How? You don’t even know. Maybe thinking of something that would turn you off? Like your mom or… fuck, that just made shit weird. Groaning internally, you try to think of something else, but everything fails. Because Leon’s stupid face keeps popping into your mind unwarranted.

“Someone’s happy to see me,” Leon’s voice suddenly drawled out, the smugness in his tone palpable. God, fucking damn. You’re mortified, almost near flinched. Somehow, getting caught with a hard on makes your cock twitch with need, precum starting to pool at your own tip.

“Fuck off, it’s just… it just happened.” You try to save yourself, but there’s no doubt at what’s happening here. You’re both turned on by each other, and the tension is as fucking weird as it is sexy. Before Leon can say anything, you step forward, pulling the rest of the shower curtain aside so you could fit in, “Just get in already.”

Leon chuckles lightly, “mhm,” he hums with that cheeky smirk still on his face. He joins you in the shower, and immediately you two are pressed up against one another. You weren’t lying when you said the space was small. Leon doesn’t seem to mind. No siree. Not one bit. In fact, this is the best day of his life.

Staring down at you, he practically towers over you, casting an ominous shadow over your frame. Your brows twitch, curving into a frown. “Hurry up before it gets cold.” you huff, lips pouty and head dipping shyly. It’s a natural submission, one that you don’t even notice. He thrives off of that.

Without another word, he took a white rag and a bar of soap from the shower caddy, lathering up the cloth until it gained suds and a eucalyptus scent. Made your nose twitch and the tension ease out of your body. You’re a sucker for some good scents.

Somehow, this feels strangely intimate. Leon feels it too. It’s enough to get the both of you to cut the teasing and taunting bullshit for now. Your eyes flutter shut, humming delightedly as the warm spray of water cascaded down your back, dowsing the both of you in a cozy glow.

A shudder goes down your spine when Leon starts to run the soapy rag down your body, rubbing it along your arms, neck, back and so forth. Every part of you. “Feel good?” he murmured, his usual cocky expression gone in favor of a much softer one. It felt odd, considering how you two were just friends, but were doing something lovers usually did. Lovers. That word felt foreign to you. Scary, even.

“Mhm,” you hum quietly in response, leaning into the soothing touches. Leon smiles. He scrubs you good, making you feel squeaky clean. Makes sure to get that clumped up mess of cum between your thighs too, subtly smirking when you stiffened slightly.

Placing the cloth down and the bar of soap back into their places, he retrieved the shampoo that laid in the caddy. Gaining some of that viscous liquid in the palm of his hand, he brushed it through your hair, lathering it up until it felt foamy and puffy. Only then did he wash it out. Honestly, the whole process felt like a blur to you. It just felt too good, to be cared for like this.

Almost fell asleep. Once he was done pampering you with delicate touches and massages, your eyes fluttered open. Reciprocation was craved. “You don’t have to,” he mumbled, “I want to.” you said. And you did. Using the same soapy rag, you took care of him. Your fingers occasionally traced over scars and patches of bruised skin, lovingly grazing dotted marks like constellations. You’re enraptured.

You shampoo his hair too, running your fingers through those blonde locks that feel silky and smooth to the touch. Leon shuts his eyes, his shoulders drooping into a state of relaxation. He feels the same. God, he’s usually such a worrywart. It feels nice to let go like this. To be touched and appreciated. Worshipped.

He sighed, letting the stream of warm water wash away remaining suds and scented foam. He doesn’t want to leave. Not yet. Hunching over a little, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, shifting modestly to be able to properly face you in such a cramped space.

His lips ghosted your skin, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. It’s suffocating in the best way possible. You wrap your arms around him too, holding him as if he were your lifeline. “You smell good,” he mumbled, kisses becoming more frequent along the sensitive row of flesh that belonged to your throat.

You don’t have anything snarky to say. The thought is there, but you don’t want to. Not worth it. Not at all. “Uh huh,” you let out a shaky breath, rewarding him with a mewl when those kisses turn into gentle suckles. Your cock twitches against your lower abdomen, and his presses against it. Slowly, he starts to rut into you.

Cocks rubbing together, he continues to lather you in affection, hands gliding up and down your back, occasionally squeezing your ass or rubbing your shoulders. You moan softly, nestling closer. Any longer in this shower and you’ll start to prune, but damn does this feel good.

Unable to properly peer up at him due to the continuous fall of water, you settle in for nuzzling your face into the column of his neck, tentatively sharing lovely kisses of your own. He parts from your throat, cupping your cheek in his hand to pull your head up. You don’t get a chance to speak before he mashed his lips against yours, tongue slipping in to dance.

You whine into the kiss when you felt his freehand snake down to grasp onto your dick, starting to slowly pump it up and down. “Leon,” you whimpered against his lips, hips involuntarily bucking forward. God, your water bill is going to kill you.

“Shh,” Leon cooed, reluctantly parting from the lip locking, “Just enjoy it.” his thumb occasionally found purchase on your rosy tip, rubbing vertical lines onto the tiny slit to coax out precious drops of precum. Fuck, that felt good. Made you louder, Leon noted.

He does too much for you, you think. You wanna touch him too. Wanna taste him. “Leon,” you mew softly, eyes big and pleading once you manage to gaze up at him through the relentless spray of water. Drops of it clump up your eyelashes, but you don’t care. “Can I suck you off? Please?” you beg prettily, and Leon just can’t bring himself to say no to you.

“Fuck, yeah, you wanna?” he groans, cock twitching excitedly at the thought. “Uh huh, yeah, I wanna,” you whine. Shit, how can you go from stubborn boy to whiny bitch in mere seconds? Hell if he knows. You don’t wait for a response, instantly getting on your knees. The hard floor makes your bones hurt, flesh turning rosy, but that’s okay. Yes, that’s perfect.

His cock aligns with your face, and you just have to kiss it; so you do. Your pillowy lips plant against the heated tip, hot tongue darting out to kitten lick away the milky precum. You don’t mean to tease, you’re just completely lost in the sensation. It’s new to you, sucking a dude’s cock. Leon can tell. So he doesn’t rush you, but damn. He needs more than just cute licks.

“Fuck yeah, keep going,” he encourages, hips tilting forward in a silent plea for more. You comply, mouth parting to take the head in first. You start sucking on that, like a baby with a pacifier. You look stupid. He loves that. His hand cups the back of your head, practically fucking begging you to just take his fat cock into your mouth already.

Finally, you do. It’s not quick, but you slowly slide the rest of his meat into your mouth. Gagging instantly due to his size, he grunts when your throat squeezes around him. Whining, you try to get used to the feeling. It’s not everyday you get a cock in your mouth. Especially one that belongs to your best friend.

Slowly, so fucking slowly, you start to bob your head up and down, feeling the veins and ridges of his shaft tickle your insides. It’s weird, an almost alien feeling. But fuck, it’s amazing. Addicting. Your cock agrees, considering how it continues to twitch and throb pathetically.

Cute, Leon thinks. Getting a sloppy blowjob from his best friend while in the shower was not something he expected. His skin is already starting to prune. He focuses on the pleasure he’s feeling, biting his bottom lip to keep a particular moan from spilling. You’re progressively getting better, learning from the noises he makes and the slight twitch his thighs give when you do something that he likes.

Your tongue swirls around him, lips suctioning and swelling. You’re drooling all over him, making a hot, sloppy mess on his dick. Not to mention how embarrassingly loud you’re being, slurping as if you were starving. Maybe you were. “Mmngg,” you whimper and grunt around him, voice sending vibrations throughout his entire being that made his toes curl and his eyes squeeze shut.

“Fuck, fuck, so good,” he hissed through his teeth, unable to keep himself from abruptly thrusting into your mouth. He shoots you an apologetic glance when you gag and his tip hits the back of your throat, but god, he can’t help himself. Can’t wait anymore.

So he gives in, starting to gently thrust into your mouth. He can feel that coil tightening up, the telltale signs of an orgasm approaching, and fast. You take as much as you can, even as you gag and choke. Somehow, that makes it so much better. Makes you start to move your hips too, only you’re humping air instead of someone’s face.

Poor thing. So needy. Fucking the air like a goddamn dog in heat. Makes Leon pity you. His thrusts become heavier, balls starting to slap against your chin. “Shit. Fuck. Gonna cum soon,” he panted softly, “Love your mouth, gonna cum all over it. Y’gonna swallow?” he huffed out his breaths, keeping one hand on the back of your head. The other one was splayed against the slippery shower wall to ground himself.

You do your best to respond, letting out a pathetic ‘mhm!’ in between muffled mewls and whimpers. You can feel yourself about to cum from just this. From just Leon fucking your face. “Good boy,” Leon hummed, satisfaction playing across his features. Snapping his hips forward, he ignores your wet gagging and pleading whines for mercy.

“Fuck, i’m cumming. Swallow it all,” He demands. Not like he needs to. He knows you’d do it regardless. You do as told, eagerly swallowing as much cum as you can as soon as he starts to shoot his load in between grunts and moans. Even as your cheeks start to puff up due to holding so much in your mouth and some spills out. You’re trying your best, and that’s all that matters, right? Right.

It’s all so much. So much that you can’t take anymore. With a loud whimper, you bust your own load, heavy cum spewing from your twitching cock in thick ropes. One, two, and then three. It all immediately gets washed away by the water spewing from the shower head. How the water hasn’t gone cold yet is beyond you.

Finally, Leon’s cock starts to soften in your mouth and he slips out with a wet pop noise. His chest heaved with every breath he took, muscles starting to relax. “Atta boy,” he murmured soothingly, looking down at your dazed and flushed expression with a smile on his face. Pulling you up carefully by the arm, he held you against his chest, rubbing comforting circles against your back with his palm.

Your knees hurt like hell, but you’re too content to think about it. Leon notices and winces, crooning sympathetically, “shit, sorry.” he mumbled sheepishly, attempting to stabilize your wobbling form. You chuckle tiredly, “it’s okay,” yeah, more than okay. “Kiss me please?” you plead, glancing up at him with a small pout. God, since when did you start asking for this willingly?

Leon hesitated, a bit taken aback by your request. It’s sweet, seeing how needy you are. Some part of him feels guilty, but the warmth that seeps into him from your pleading tone is enough to make him relent. “Alright,” he mumbled, taking claim of your lips once more. It’s sweeter than the first time. Saliva and tongue exchanged. It’s like your melting in his mouth, being all syrupy and cute like this.

He sucks on your lips, and then your tongue, making you whine. Another minute and he finally parts. His heart flutters in his chest and it feels strange. Like butterflies are swarming his belly. Can’t tell if he likes it or not. He doesn’t want to break the spell you both seem to be in, but he does eventually.

Lightly chuckling, he ignores your eyes, “We should step out now. We’re getting all pruny.” it’s a lame and rather awkward attempt, but it seems to work considering the halfhearted glare you shot his way. Much better. Hesitantly, you reach past him to turn the shower handles, cutting the heavy stream of water off. Ugh, bad idea. The cold air made you shudder, goosebumps forming along your skin.

“Alright alright, c’mon,” you huff, stepping out of the shower on slightly wobbly legs. Leon follows, much more steadier than you. Back to your regularly scheduled program of teasing and playful jabs, you suppose. You grab a towel for yourself from underneath the sink cabinet, and another one for Leon. Only you throw it at him lazily.

He manages to catch it before it hit the ground, “rude,” he huffed in feigned indignation. You only roll your eyes, “Oh, shut up.”

Doesn’t hide the smile that played at your lips. But it’s a good try. Drying your hair off with the rough towel, you’re both quiet, with only the sound of fabric rubbing on skin present. You’re both lost in thought. Processing things.

“You’re paying my water bill.”

“Absolutely not.”

#kastelixa ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱#kastelixa #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x reader #smut #leon kennedy x male reader #leon x reader

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miioouu · 4 months

Note

I think about Camgirl x soap….maybe part 2??

Haha, finally done with university so now i have all the time in the world to think and drool over hot fictional men with you all!!! Here’s part one of this. TW: smut, phone sex, female reader WC: 950

Weeks pass since you and your favourite fan started talking. Although you've learned a bit about him, never his name “Call me Soap, kitten. Sounds hot when you do” And now you don't have to wonder what he sounds like. If you think his comments in the chat are lewd, you're not ready for the voice messages he leaves you past midnight.

Breathy whispers, low groans and whines; he told you he has to keep quiet, he shares a room with his colleagues, and yet, he can't help it, it's become a routine for the both of you now. You wait for your screen to light up, a giddy smile on your face when you press the play button “Thought ‘bout you all day long bonnie. Sucked at practice today, my aim’s shitty because of you now, might lose my job because of you, sweet kitty” He always starts the blaming, making you roll your eyes as you bite your lip, waiting in anticipation for what's coming next. The sound of his sheets being shifted under his weight, he hisses when the bed creaks a little too loudly, it makes you giggle the way he blames you some more. “But you'd like that, eh? If I lost my job? You'd love it, all my attention would be on you, not like it's not now…you're always on my mind, those pretty tits of yours. Gosh those perky nipples, wanna suck on ‘em'' His breathing becomes heavy, and so does yours. It doesn't take a genius to know that he's slipping his hand under his boxers, the sound of the elastic softly smacking against his skin is an obvious indicator, and you can't help but join him. “Want my hands all over you, pretty girl. I know you want it too, yeah? So soft I bet. So plush, just want to bite you, and leave my mark on ya.”

And he blames you again “So far away from me. If you were here, it would be your hand wrapped around my cock, kitty. And if I’m lucky enough maybe it would be your mouth, yeah?” He takes in a sharp breath, and so do you. You exhale shakily as your fingers dip under your cotton panties, sucking your teeth at how wet you are, maybe you should send him a picture? He deserves it after all. The tip of your digits brushing against your twitching clit, and you huff, imagining, and being sure that his hands would feel a lot better; rough and calloused against your soft skin, it would feel like heaven. “Fuck, I can already picture it, bonnie. Those sweet lips of yours, you know I love it when you put on that red lipstick too. Can you imagine it, how it would leave a pretty ring around my dick? So pretty, all yours to taste too.” He hums, the sound of his slick can be faintly heard in the background of the voice message. You drooled at the thought, making you think about how he’d taste. Salty, a little sour maybe? Maybe even with a hint of sweetness, the guy is in shape and cares about his health. If not for the military, for you; the pride that swells in his chest whenever you mention how badly you want to bite his arm, how much you need to lick on his abs. The image alone flusters you. You groan as you push your panties down, they frustrate you as you keep drawing tight circles against your bundle of nerves, trying to match his pace. You know how he likes it too, he’s spoken about it before; “Slow kitty… I like the build up. Slow and nice, not too tightly. And then my mind starts to wander, to you and that silk blue set, and I go crazy. I can’t help it, ok? Wanna know how tight you’d be around me.”

“Or maybe, if the Gods are on my side, I can feel that pretty cunny of yours, eh? What do you say? I think she’d love me. God, kitty, I wanna stretch you out. Wanna make you cry on it, wanna make you bounce on it, wanna make you cream on it. Gosh kitty, I bet you’d love it. I’d fuck you so good, I promise you I will, so good you’d forget about those silicon toys of yours, they can’t compare. I’ll make it so you can’t think about anyone but me, no one will ever make you feel the way I’ll make you feel sweetheart.”

His voice is rough and breathless, like he’s slowly descending to madness, slowly ascending to heaven. The rest of his message is the echoing of his groans and shallow breaths, it’s like he’s biting his lip to not let out a too loud noise. He spits on his sensitive tip, letting if ooze down his length and the thought of it alone is making your arch your back. He’s so good at it, he should’ve been the one on the screen, he’d make millions from his voice and heavy accent alone. It’s the repeating whispers of your name that gave him away and pushed you over the edge. You moan out his ‘name’ again, you let it roll out your tongue like a prayer, Goodness, you needed him badly too. He deserves a reward no? The man that got you obsessed and delusional, he deserves a picture of your drenched fingers pulled apart and connected with your juices. He also deserves that last message you sent before completely shutting off your phone to mellow down your excitement and anxiety “Maybe you will feel ‘that pretty cunny’ soon, mmm? What do you think?”

#soap x reader #soap smut #johnny mactavish #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish smut #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #smut #cod smut #female reader #cod x reader #call of duty

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writing-for-marvel · 11 months

Text

Heartburn

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 4 | Series Masterlist | PART 6 > >

Summary: You hadn’t expected to meet Bucky’s family so soon, let alone in your hospital.

Warnings: strictly 18+, TRIGGER WARNING mention of a child dying from an epileptic seizure, mention of child abuse, mention of someone dying from alcoholism/liver cancer, minor character has a heart attack, CPR including chest compressions is depicted, mention of surgery, angst, fluff, implied smut, please note this is a medical AU which is set in a emergency room

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: sorry if the pacing is a little off in this one, I had a vision but I’m not sure it’s actually come together all that well. We finally learn about Bucky’s past in this one! Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

It’s the irritating beeping sound of a phone alarm that pulls you from your dreamland with a start.

For a minute you’re disoriented, even though you recognise the surroundings as your own bedroom. Only a second ago it seems you were cuddled up next to Bucky on your couch, head on his shoulder and fingers intertwined as reruns of The Office played in front of your tired eyelids.

Now, his large form reaches across to the bedside table to quickly shut off his alarm, the muscles in his bare back tensing with the stretch.

“Sorry darling, got an early shift and my uniform is back at my place.” The apology spoken in his hoarse morning voice is coupled with a soft kiss to your forehead which is sweet, but not quite enough recompense for the price of being woken up extra early.

Even though you’ve just woken up, probably looking puffy, bleary eyed and like a unshowered mess, Bucky’s gaze is still filled with wonder and tenderness, as if, even in this state, you’re still the most exquisite person he’s ever laid eyes on and he can’t quite believe he gets to wake up beside you.

He holds you into his warm, musky scented, hairy chest for a long minute, wherein you almost fall back to sleep listening to the steady beat of his heart, until he covertly attempts to remove his arms from around you, aiming to leave you to continue to rest alone in bed.

“No, don’t go.” You mumble in protest, reaching out to grab hold of his burly frame. Bucky’s strong enough to pull away from you if he really wanted, but it’s clear he doesn’t when even the drowsy grasp you have on him is adequate to prevent him from leaving your bed.

Bucky snuggles back into your embrace and a soft, loving smile spreads over your sleepy features which induces his heart to melt into warm honey in his chest. This is where he’s meant to be.

In a decades time, reflecting back he’s not going to remember everyday he turned up to work on time, but he will reminisce on these stolen moments with you.

For so long being a paramedic has been his purpose. That after everything he’s suffered through he poured his soul into helping other people to give him a reason to keep going.

But perhaps now he can instead be a little selfish. Open up his heart, which has been under lock and key, and indulge in the rapture and ardour that you seem to instinctively induce within him, even if there is a threat of eventual heartache.

After years of drifting lost at sea, he’s finally found a safe haven with you. And he doesn’t plan on doing anything to jeopardise that. He’d inflict life threatening pain on himself before allowing any hurt to come to you.

Bucky kisses you, pulling your pelvis flush with his as you swing your leg lazily over his thigh. It’s far from the perfect kiss, noses bumping, lips lethargic, unbrushed teeth and morning breath, but to Bucky it’s impeccable and unforgettable because it’s a kiss shared with you the first morning you’re waking up beside each other.

When your hands slip below the elastic of his sweatpants, Bucky knows he’s going to be late for his shift, but that hardly seems important when he gets to spend these extra moments with you.

Besides, he knows Steve will cover for him.

Right now, he’s just focused on satisfying his girl.

* * *

“Alright, I need to know everything about your date last night.” Typically this was a sentence Wanda spoke to you after a night spent with Bucky, but was now coming from your mouth directed at her.

It had been a relatively slow day in the ER. All patients were stable and you were caught up on paperwork, so you finally had the opportunity to interrogate Wanda about her first date with the anaesthesiologist she met last week - Vis, she had called him.

“A girl doesn’t kiss and tell.” She teases with a smirk, which tells you exactly how her night ended. You remember saying something of a similar vein after your first date with Bucky.

“Are you gonna see him again?” You prompt, wanting far more information about your friend’s love life than she was letting on.

“He’s already booked us in for Per Se this weekend.” You can see the excitement she’s failing to hide in her beaming smile which gets reciprocated on your own features.

“Oh, fancy! How did you manage to score that reservation after just one date?” You ask with raised brows and Wanda just smirks.

“I can do amazing things with my mouth.”

All of a sudden there’s a commotion over by the other side of the ER which pulls everyone’s attention. Bursting through the double doors from the ambulance bay is a gurney with a patient and a paramedic atop performing rhythmic chest compressions.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a strange sight to see in an ER, in fact, it’s a daily occurrence in your experience. However, what you do find peculiar is the sight of a familiar broad paramedic with long chestnut hair performing CPR even though you know for a fact his shift finished hours prior.

Something close to terror rises like steam from a burning hole in your stomach. You can see by the pure panic lining Bucky’s features as he screams instructions that something is terribly, terribly wrong.

Time seems to stand still as you watch the scene play out in front of you - Bucky continues compressions as they wheel the gurney past you towards the surgical wing. From your position you get a glimpse of a middle aged woman with the same colour hair as Bucky unconscious on the stretcher.

One of the ER doctors you don’t know very well offers to take over CPR but Bucky glowers at him and proceeds anyway. It’s not until Dr Strange approaches with his surgical team that a helpless melancholy overcomes Bucky’s demeanour and you immediately want to wrap him in an endless hug.

They exchange some words before Bucky shouts despondently “she’s my mother!” Your already bruised heart crumbles into a million tiny pieces on the floor in front of you. Dr Carter takes over from Bucky’s role as he steps off the gurney, wanting to follow the team into the OR but Strange stops him with a hand to strapping chest.

“This is as far as you go Barnes.” You hear him command flatly, and when Bucky opens his mouth to argue like you knew he would, Strange cuts him off. “We’ll do the best we can.” Stephen remarks in his quintessential vague and unpromising statement before following his team into the surgical wing. Knowing how superior Stephen’s best is, this utterance generally makes you feel confident about a patient's outcome, but this time, when the patient is someone so close to a person you care deeply about, it provides no comfort.

The short paramedic who arrived with Bucky, perhaps driving the ambulance, observes him with sorrowful, sympathetic eyes. She reaches out to him, looking as if she’s trying to find the right comforting words, but Bucky doesn’t seem to notice. He instead searches you out in the crowd of people who had gathered at the incident, finding you almost instantly, and with a few large strides has his arms wrapped tightly around your middle and his head tucks into the crook of your neck.

“I’m so sorry baby.” You whisper in his ear while on the tips of your toes, the ends of his long hair tickling your jawline. As you rub slow circles over his back a wretched sob bubbles up in his throat and his whole body starts heaving as he cries. “I’m right here, Buck.”

You feel his clutch on the back of your scrubs tighten as he continues to weep, your chest tightening knowing that as much as you may want to, there is nothing you can do to take the weight of this catastrophic misery from him.

“I can’t lose her too.” He cries in a barely intelligible stammer. Your heart cracks at the implication of too, instinctively pulling him closer in your embrace, tears welling in your own eyes at seeing your strong and cheeky Bucky face such overwhelming anguish. “Please, I can’t lose her too.” He repeats in a blubber with a hefty sniff, pulling back to gaze at you with imploring eyes, as if begging you to promise that she will live.

At this moment all you want is to ease his suffering, but you know as a physician you can't make that promise. Statistics are not in her favour. Your hand intuitively comes up to cup his face, thumb wiping the stream of tears flowing from the corner of his eye.

“I know, Buck. C’mere, let’s go to an on-call room where you can lie down.” The sea of people who had been silently staring at the scene of Bucky breaking down part for you to move through, though not before you throw incensed glares at those who were observing Bucky’s moment of grief.

You keep your arm steadily around Bucky’s muscular back as you both lead him through the maze of the hospital, towards where you know the nearest on-call room is due to your carnal activities weeks before, and keep him upright.

You shut the door behind you and lead Bucky to the small bed, his movements stemming from you prompting him - you suspect he’s too caught up in distraught thoughts to even recognise where he is.

Sitting with your back against the pillows, you gently pull Bucky up to your chest. His large frame is heavy and pushes you further into the mattress, but it’s a welcome, comforting embrace.

That morning, cuddled up in bed in a similar manner to now feels like a lifetime ago. You stay like that for a while, Bucky’s tears dampening your scrubs. It’s raw, observing someone you care for in such a vulnerable, impuissant state. You’re not entirely sure what Bucky needs right now, you’re still yet to learn so much about one another, but just being present seems to be sufficient for the moment.

With a sniffle Bucky clears his throat and finally speaks.

“She just collapsed, I stopped by her place after my shift. One second she was fine, talking and laughing, then the next unconscious on the floor.” He explained, slightly muffled into your chest as you stroked his hair in soothing motions.

“Thankfully you were with her.” You comment, dreading to think what would have happened if he had arrived too late, but realising that it probably isn’t any consolation to the person whose mother is currently fighting for her life.

You return to comfortable silence, your hand combing through strands of his hair, already having learnt that he enjoys having his hair played with. He shuffles so that your legs interlace, which helps you pull him closer.

“You’re probably wondering what I meant by her too.” Bucky gauges, and though you were intrigued by the insinuation of his phrasing, you also understand that it’s none of your business.

“Bucky, you don’t have to go into that now. You can tell me when you’re ready, or not at all if it makes you uncomfortable.” You utter softly into his hairline before peppering a few kisses along his forehead to his temple.

“I want you to know.” He urges, and though you’re not sure it’s the right time for him to detail any previous suffering or trauma he’s had to endure, you’re also not in a position to pick an argument with him. You’re all ears for whatever he wishes to share in such a vulnerable moment. “I trust you.” There’s a weight to these words that you enjoy bearing, that for Bucky there’s not many people who have the privilege of earning his trust and this heavy responsibility is an honour rather than a burden.

Bucky takes a deep breath, his bottom lip quivering. You stroke his hair again and when he gazes up at you it feels like you’re holding your entire world in your hands.

“Sorry, I haven’t had to explain this to someone in a long time.” He apologises needlessly.

“Take your time.”

He gulps down the lump forming in his throat before he starts.

“I had a baby sister.” He simply states. I can’t lose her too, echoing in your mind in Bucky’s distraught, desperate voice and every nerve in your body fires with despair.

He lost his baby sister.

Overcoming saying those five words aloud takes him a moment, but you remain patient. Even if that’s all the explanation he is to give, that wouldn’t matter to you, you already believe him to be the strongest person you know.

“She was five years younger than me, and besides Steve, was my best friend. You think I’m cheeky, well Becca was ten times worse.” He says with a reminiscent chuckle. You continue to rub steady circles over his sturdy back as his head rests on your chest. “She was only nine when it happened. She had epilepsy and one day when we were home alone she started having a seizure. I did everything I was taught to do in that situation, but she still didn’t make it. It took the ambulance over 30 minutes to get there. You’re a doctor, I’m sure you can put the pieces together.”

Sometimes being a physician and having intimate medical knowledge about what exactly was happening to a person felt like a punishment rather than a blessing. Being able to visualise precisely was happening in her body during her last moments and the medical reasons why she passed away even though a fourteen year old Bucky did everything he could to prevent it was knowledge you didn’t wish to have in this moment.

“I blamed myself for the longest time, I still do occasionally.” He comments and your chest constricts at the vision of a teenage Bucky thinking he was the reason his little sister died. You pull him even closer to you, your cheek brushing the top of his head.

“You would have done everything you could, James. I’m sure Becca knows that.” Bucky looks up at you with a combination of bewilderment and admiration, overly appreciative of the blind faith you’ve placed in him.

“My dad blamed me for it. Becca was always his favourite. Daddy’s little girl.” His voice is demure, so different to the brash, confident man you met in the ER. But part of you feels appreciative he can be vulnerable with you, that he can be truthful to his pain when you’re together instead of putting on a facade. “He took that grief and anger out on me and my mom after that. Told me he wished I was the child of his that died. She left him after that, and I barely saw him from then on. Didn’t fight her for custody, didn’t even want shared custody, he was completely fine with never seeing me again. He drank himself to death - got liver cancer and died just before my twenty-first birthday.”

Though it felt malevolent to wish harm on someone who had been through the horrendous pain of losing their daughter, you couldn’t help the sense of warm contentment filling your chest that Bucky’s father cannot hurt him anymore. What a vile thing to say to your own son.

“What happened is not your fault. It was devastating and so very unfortunate, but the blame does not lie with you. Don’t you ever believe for a moment that your fathers words are true.” He chokes out a sob and for a few long minutes you simply stay cuddled up to each other in the small on-call bed.

“You remember on our first date when you asked why I became a paramedic?” He finally breaks the silence with a raspy voice. You hum in affirmation. “This is why. I wanted to make sure no one else had to go through what my family did. That no one would lose a loved one because the help they needed didn’t arrive in time.”

You recall the day you met Bucky, carrying seven year old Sasha into the ER, a tear trickling down his cheek as she was wheeled off for her scan. You had always believed the tear was born from thinking she was in pain - but now, you contemplate that instead it was a happy tear, that against all odds he had successfully pulled a young girl from the train wreckage and she was getting the help she needed. Aid that never got to his sister.

“Ma and Steve are the only family I have left. I’m not ready to lose her.” You want to tell him that he will always have you too, but considering he’s known you for such a short time compared to his actual family and childhood best friend, it feels like an empty gesture.

“You want me to go check on her? I have surgical wing privileges, I could-”

“No, please, I need you here.” His embrace becomes suffocatingly tight to prevent you from leaving, and you reassure him with a kiss.

“Okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Bucky pulls the covers around the two of you, perhaps as an added layer you would have to fight to leave this room, so you repeat your statement, followed by placing a stream of kisses over his damp cheeks.

It becomes a warm cocoon as the two of you snuggle, Bucky’s large hands snaking under your shirt to rest on the expanse of your back, saying he just wants to feel close to you, the feel of your bare skin in a chaste circumstance seems to lower his previously pounding heart rate.

It’s not long until there is a knock on the door of the on-call room. You and Bucky exchange worried glances knowing this is it. You can sense Bucky’s apprehension in opening the door, so with a look asking for permission, and a slight nod from him, you twist the door handle.

It’s Dr Strange on the other side. You suspect Wanda had clued him into your whereabouts.

“She’s alive.” He states, knowing that key piece of information is all you care about, and you feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders. You can’t imagine how Bucky must feel.

He pulls you into his chest in a bone crunching hug, happy tears now leaking from the corners of his eyes, relief buoyant in your chest at seeing your man with a smile on his face once again.

You don’t retain much more information after hearing this news. You note Stephen mentioning Winnifred had suffered a heart attack, and that they placed a couple of stents but you don’t absorb anything further.

You follow Dr Strange to her recovery room hand in hand. Bucky’s hold on your much smaller hand remains tight, though you can feel the trembling of his fingers. In response, you rub your thumb over the smooth skin of the back of his hand.

When you arrive, you observe an unconscious Mrs Barnes through the open cubicle curtain. Bucky breathes a sigh of relief next to you. Though still under the effects of anaesthesia, she is alive, and you have to be thankful for that much.

Stephen leaves you to wait for her to wake up, and glancing around, you recognise a few of the nurses who have done shifts in the ER give you sympathetic smiles.

Bucky takes a moment to observe and come to terms with his mother looking fragile in a hospital bed, wires connecting to machines attached to all parts of her body. He seems afraid to enter the room at the same time as looking grateful that she is still with him.

He takes a tentative step closer to the room, however you stay firmly where you are, the tension from your joined hands giving away your reluctance to invade his mothers privacy.

“Buck, I don’t think she’ll want a stranger in there with her at a time like this.” You comment, concerned about intruding into a personal, confidential space of a stranger. It wouldn’t be a good first impression if she kicked you out before you could even introduce yourself.

“But I need you.”

And that’s all it takes.

Bucky needs you, so nothing else matters.

Still somewhat grudgingly you follow Bucky into the private hospital room, but his beaming smile directed at you as you sit beside him, legs slung over his thick thighs, hands intertwined, is reward enough for facing that anxiety.

Besides, that is nothing compared to what Bucky faced today.

By the time Winnifred finally regains consciousness it’s been a long day - having been woken up early with Bucky and the carnal activities performed in your bedroom before either of you started your shifts, to the emotional rollercoaster since he entered your ER, but you’re still smiling and joking with each other until she awakens.

“Ma!” Bucky jumps up, worry filling his eyes as she groans, adjusting her position in bed. “Try not to move. You’ve just come out of surgery.”

“Surgery?” Winnifred takes in her clinical surroundings, surprise and dread brimming her eyes as she recognises the type of bed she’s in, pulse oximeter connected to her finger, blood pressure cuff strapped to her arm.

“The doctor will explain everything, but right now you just need your rest.” Bucky instructs, taking her hand in his and gently stroking her arm comfortingly. She gazes up at Bucky like he’s her entire world, and given everything she’s had to endure in her life, you can imagine that’s probably not far from the truth.

Her eyes land on you for the first time, and she tries to push herself up in bed but that only results in her grimacing, clearly in pain.

“Are you the doctor?”

“I am a doctor, but I’m not your doctor. I can get them for you though.” You offer but she immediately shakes her head, as if you haven’t properly interpreted her question.

“No, I mean James’ girlfriend, the doctor?”

You pause for a brief moment - the most you and Bucky had discussed your relationship was that you weren’t sleeping with other people, but had never confirmed that you are officially dating. You didn’t want to scare him off by putting a label on what you are. Hearing ‘Bucky’s girlfriend’ spoken out loud makes it very real all of a sudden, but it’s a title you want to possess.

“Yes, I’m James’ girlfriend.” You confirm, meeting Bucky’s tender gaze from beside you. He slings his arm around you, cheeks rosy from blushing, pulling you closer into his side, kissing the top of your head as Winnifred observes you both with a besotted smile.

You introduce yourself and Winnie, which she requests you call her, already has a million questions about where you grew up, your family, how you met her James, and why you got into medicine. You gladly answer them all, immediately seeing the joy it brings her that Bucky has a partner that cares about him as much as you do. You suspect it’s also a good diversion for her while nurses come in, poke and prod her and take vitals.

The sun sets outside the hospital but Winnie’s spirits are high when visiting hours come to an end. Bucky is adamant that he sleeps on the makeshift window bed in his moms room so that he can be there for her during the first days of her recovery. You offer to take care of Alpine, his mischievous snowy white cat, while he focuses on being with his mom.

Bucky insists he walks you out, even though you’re adamant he should stay with his mom. When you leave her room, Bucky all of a sudden looks nervous, and worry churns in your stomach.

“I know we said we weren’t putting labels on this-” He motions between you with an anxious look in his eye, as if he’s overstepped and is frantically trying to explain his rationale, “but ‘girlfriend’ was just the easiest way to explain it to her. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Bucky.” You say to stop his nervous ranting. You take both of his hands, intertwining fingers, and a shaky breath leaves his lips as he swallows the myriad of words on his tongue. “I want to be your girlfriend - I didn’t say it just to appease your mom. I kinda thought we were already there to be honest, but I don’t want to push you to take this quicker than you’re ready for.”

“I’m ready.” He whispers with a subliminal nod. “I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend before.” He admits sheepishly, but it’s honestly adorable. This tall, burly man, whose size would intimidate most, is nervous to admit he’s never had a girlfriend. Something of pride blooms in your chest that you get the honour of being Bucky’s first ever girlfriend.

Hopefully his only ever girlfriend.

“Aww, I’m your first?” You stand on the tips of your toes and place a delicate kiss to his chapped lips as you tease him. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Affection twinkles in his eyes. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his deep, steel blues observing you like you hang the stars and the moon in the night sky. Bucky leans down, encircling your waist with his strong arms as he kisses you with ardour.

“You are far from my first…” He mumbles against your lips, teeth grazing your bottom lip and pulling it lightly, “but you’re the only one that matters.”

You kiss him again, arms around his neck pulling him down to you. You’re dangerously addicted to the taste of him, the way his lips move against yours and how his tongue sweeps into your mouth like he owns it.

Ensuring that you get safely to your car this late at night, Bucky walks you all the way there, giving you another kiss before making sure you lock your car door and promise to text him when you get to his place to pick up Alpine and when you finally get home.

He watches as you pull your car out of the lot, until you’re completely out of sight.

Warmth spreads through the pit of your stomach even though you’re driving away from him, remembering Wanda’s warning before going on your first date with him. No one gets a second date with Bucky Barnes.

No one except you. And now you’re officially his girlfriend.

* * *

Walking back into his mom’s hospital room, Bucky’s surprised to find her still sitting up in bed with a bright smile plastered on her face. If he didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t have known she was ill at all.

“James.” Winnie pats the edge of her bed, motioning for Bucky to sit beside her. “She makes you happy?”

Bucky perches himself where his mother suggested and takes her hand in both of his, overly grateful to have her still with him. He kisses the back of her hand as he thinks of his response - not because he’s uncertain of his answer, you make him astonishingly happy, more than he has been in living memory, but because the extent of that delight is difficult to put into words.

“Incredibly so.” Is what he comes up with, though it feels incomplete and deficient of the precise devotion his heart already feels for you.

His mother, however, seems content with the answer for she clasps her hands together and hums with excitement.

“My boy, I never thought I’d see the day where you would finally let yourself be happy.” She takes a delicate hand and cups his face. Her eyes are filled with overwhelming joy, and Bucky suspects as happy as she is for him, she is also using it as a distraction from her current circumstance.

He didn’t think he’d ever open his heart and allow someone to own it as he has done with you. His greatest fear is being hurt like that again - being crushed by grief like a car in a compactor until he’s a shell of the person he was.

You have this uncanny ability to bring out the true jocular and jovial personality his mother would recognise from before bereavement overtook his life.

He’s already decided that he cannot for the life of him lose you. That if this doesn’t work out with you, he will shut his heart off from the rest of the world for good this time. You’re the only person he’s interested in giving his heart to, if his life can’t be shared with you, then he’ll have to find a way to be content on his own.

“So, can I be expecting grandbabies anytime soon?” Winnie asks in a teasing voice which makes Bucky’s cheeks flush. There isn’t any doubt where Bucky and Becca got their cheeky nature from.

“Ma, we’re definitely not there yet.” He shakes his head urgently but his mom just chuckles.

“Do you love her?”

Bucky pauses. It’s a yes or no question, and yet the answer certainly isn’t that simple.

Can you love someone who you’ve barely known for a month?

Probably not. At least, not in the way his mom is most likely probing about. He’s not even sure if his heart will allow himself to feel that way about someone. But there’s a flutter in his chest and a warmth in the pit of his stomach every time he so much as thinks about you that suggests he’s already begun falling.

“I think I could - I think I will.” He amends which promotes a smile to blossom on his moms face.

“She’s good for you.” It fills Bucky’s stomach with butterflies that his mom has only observed the two of you together for such a short time, and yet still holds this view. “Makes you genuinely laugh like when you were a little boy. I haven’t heard that beautiful sound in such a long time.”

They both have tears in their eyes now, and after the emotional upheaval of the day, Bucky is barely holding on from breaking down again.

“I don’t plan on letting her go, Ma.”

Part 6 > >

Be added to the series taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @roschele @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @fallenlilangel99 @princezzjasmine @mdrovert @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @netflixxgoddess @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @marvelhoeland @thesadcatto-queen @kayden666 @amiimar @razor-blayde @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @Vickie5446 @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @moonymagician @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet @wishingwell-2 @unaxv

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ken-dom · 8 months

Text

Gloves

Driver x afab!reader

1.1k words

Summary: Driver takes you somewhere secluded to make a move you’ve been fantasising about

Author’s notes: I can’t stop thinking about his damn hands ok? Gloves. Hands. God.

I originally posted this to my main blog but I'm re-posting all my work here to have everything in one place due to an unresolved tagging issue on my main

Warnings/content: NSFW, glove kink, making out, semi-public (it’s in the car), fingering, reader has a vagina, hinted premature ejaculation, hinted thought of a blow job if you squint

The moonlight filtering through the windscreen highlighted the curve of his beautiful nose, your eyes dragging up to his unreadable blues, shining back at you through the shadows.

He was, as always, seemingly emotionless, watching you without thought or intention colouring his expression. But you could feel it. A thrill ran though your body and settled at your core.

Your heart began to beat faster as you tried to catch your breath; you weren’t sure exactly when you lost it, but you were practically panting, trying to disguise it in case you’d got it all wrong. But for what other reason would he bring you here and park in such a secluded spot?

Something shifted in the air, then. Whatever you were feeling from him intensified and before you had a chance to wonder what exactly had caused it, his lips were sliding against yours, heavy but slow.

God, he was a good kisser. As intense as his gaze, yet kind of needy. His tongue pressed into your mouth, coaxing yours to glide against it, and you moaned involuntarily. Too loudly.

He didn’t make a single sound as his gloved hands slid from where they’d found your waist to under your ass, pulling you to him and onto his lap. The manoeuvre broke the kiss, but only briefly, and in that short reprieve you chuckled, feeling heady.

He didn’t laugh with you. But he was the one who pushed forward to thrust his tongue back between your swollen lips, so you didn’t doubt his desire.

His breath was heavy each time he paused to catch it, and you wondered whether to try and take his jacket off. Would he want that? Is that what this was?

You couldn’t think too much, though, or for too long. Not with his arousal pressing against your inner thigh so tantalisingly. And certainly not when his still-gloved hand began to toy with the fastening on your jeans.

He broke away to find your eyes again, and when they locked on yours, you gasped. You’d never seen him like this. You’d imagined it plenty of times, but this was so much better.

‘This ok?’ he murmured, and you didn’t know better you’d think he was nervous.

‘Yes,’ you breathed, your hand moving to help him unfasten your zip, while his other hand was busy caressing your lower back.

He nodded, eyes falling down to where his fingers were slipping past the elastic of your underwear.

You weren’t sure if it was inexperience or simply the awkward position causing him to fumble slightly, but it barely mattered. He knew when the leather covered tips of his fingers found your sweet spot because you moaned a different type of moan and you dropped forward, your forehead pressing to his and your breath hot against his face.

He smirked, pleased with himself, massaging slow circles as you hummed and rocked your hips against his measured ministrations.

Fuck. You could probably cum right now, before he’d even pushed a finger inside. Before he’d even had the chance to fuck you. Why did he have to keep his gloves on? Your filthiest fantasy, something you felt you’d be too shy to share with him, and he was giving it to you right now without ever having to exchange a word about it.

Maybe it was his fantasy too. Maybe he kept them on when he thought about you like this.

Your fingertips drove into his shoulders and he let out a heavy but delighted little sigh, fingers exploring lower until he was finally sliding a finger into you. You guided him with your hips again, rocking against his gloved hand to drag his finger against your g spot.

He watched you intently, memorising every reaction your blissed out face gave him, noticing every tremble, listening for every sound of pleasure. It was that that brought you over the edge. That strong, silent stare of his that made your core clench every time.

As your walls tightened around his pumping, elegant finger and you ground against the leather on his palm, he finally made a sound, too.

You almost missed it, your own pleasured moans echoing around the car. It was a small, ‘Mmh-’ and it was weak and whiny.

As you collapsed completely onto him, you wondered if maybe he’d cum too. You hadn’t touched him. You hadn’t even pressed yourself against his obviously aching cock. But he was panting and trembling and shifted uncomfortably in his seat beneath you.

You didn’t ask.

The hand at your lower back trailed up to tilt your chin so he could kiss you again. Gentle and lingering, without tongue this time.

‘You alright?’

‘Yeah,’ you sighed. ‘Are you?’

‘Let’s get you home.’

And then you were back in the passenger seat, body turned to watch dreamily as the soft light from passing street lamps illuminated his handsome profile.

He only turned to face you again when he’d pulled up outside your place. A ghost of a smile graced his pretty lips for the briefest of moments, proud at how sleepy he’d made you, and with only his fingers. He was feeling pretty tired too. But you didn’t need to know that.

He removed his gloves then, biting at the slick-coated finger he’d fucked you with to drag the first one off. He flexed his fingers, watching them with a satisfied curl of his lips before he walked around to your side of the car, offering his arm to walk you to your front door.

There, you faced one another in comfortable silence, and you wondered whether you should lean up to kiss him again. You did smile, though, blushing a little, and he blinked his gaze away.

You inhaled deeply, biting your lips together as you got up the courage to do it, pressing your lips to his cheek.

‘Thank you for tonight,’ you whispered in his ear before dropping back onto your heels and finding your keys.

He nodded again, uttering a coy, ‘See you tomorrow,’ and casually popping a toothpick into his mouth.

You remained on your step, watching as he drove off into the night, your legs still trembling a little.

You licked your lips.

Tomorrow, you thought, would be all about him.

#not s f w 💀#driver x reader #drive 2011 #drive (2011)#ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling #drive fic #driver x reader fic #drive smut #driver smut #driver x you #driver x y/n #driver x reader smut #ken-dom writes

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vcrooster · 2 years

Text

Leaving Tonight

Angst & some smut.

Paring: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw & Reader.

Word count: 1 k

Summary: You finally say ‘I love you’ to Rooster.

Warnings: mentions of sex.

Authors note: I just love to make myself sad.

***

“I’m in love with you Bradley”.

The words sat with him. He never imagined that his night was going to turn out sleeping with his best friend just two days before leaving for deployment.

To be fair he was a little tipsy and your legs looked especially good in the dress you decided to wear for his small goodbye get together.

He was still inside you, and your sudden urge to spill your feelings out to him was a little too much to take in at this very moment.

Of course he loved you, not in the way you did but there is something. Something as in he was very attractive to you, physically. He could never bring himself to say that you were a sister to him, he still can’t figure out what it is that he felt for you.

He would be lying if he said that he doesn’t think about you from time to time. And he’ll even admit he got off to that one time you’ve asked him to put some sunscreen on your back. He just could shake the sensation of your skin and that led him to wonder how good it would feel against his own.

Your cheeks and lips were flustered and your chest brushed against his while you were trying to compose your breathing.

He didn’t expect himself to feel nervous at the sight of your impatient eyes staring at him, turning into turmoil of embarrassment.

“Oh god” you push him off and your eyes scan the room as you’re trying to look for your clothes scattered across it.

You are doing your very best not to cry in front of him or even look at him. You had really thought he was on the same page you were. No guy is as attentive and caring as Rooster is with you if they’re not genuinely interested in that way.

He even came onto you, he was the one that made the first move, he was the one saying how beautiful you looked tonight. He kissed you and took you back to his place.

He calls your name but you can’t look at him, you're too busy fighting with the zipper of your dress to pay attention to him. “Hey, no…”.

He heard the elastic of his boxers back on his body, and his hand fell heavy on your shoulder.

“I have to go” you take his hand off you pushing yourself off the bed.

“Come on, let’s just talk about this”.

“No, I’m leaving” There really is no way to read his features. He hates that he made you cry, he hates that he can’t bring himself to reciprocate your feelings.

You look at him, you see how the words get stuck in his throat, you know he’s looking for a way to fix the situation.

“All this time you have led me on.” You choke out. You were significantly younger than him, most of the time he had to remind himself of the ten year age gap between you two. “All this time you made me think that you–”.

You stand in front of him thinking about how you're making this whole situation look. He’s not obligated to love you back but it’s pretty shitty that he made you think he did.

You stop yourself there, the last thing you want is for him to think it's a whim of yours. You take your heels in your hand and walk towards the door.

“Shit, you are important to me” He swallowed.

The palm of his hand slams the door close before you cloud even fully open it. “Just let me go please”

“Jesús” He breathed out “What good am I to you if I’m on the other side of the world” His voice got louder, he wasn’t angry just frustrated “Or what if my plane gets shot down?” You're holding tight to the door knob. “Are you going to cry to an empty casket?”

He saw first hand what his mother went through when he lost his father, he could never commit to a relationship, he promised himself he would never put anybody in that spot, that he would never have somebody worrying and waiting for him when there was a possibility of him not making it back home.

“I can’t control how I feel Bradley” You feel your tears fall down your cheeks and his warm hand resting in the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry if I led you on” he whispered “I should’ve done things differently”.

“Different how?” Your voice matched his.

“Shit, I don’t know, you’re so young, you have so much ahead of you”. You turn to face him.

“So that’s the problem? The age difference?” You slightly push him away from you creating some distance.

“No, it’s that you think I’m the best you can do. You– you deserve something better than some military– long distance bullshit”. You’re arguing at this point, and the words are starting to burn in the back of your head.

“I get it Bradley, just stop” He looks at you, he doesn’t say anything, he just stays there staring at you. “I’m not going to beg you to be with me” your tone came out lower– lighter. “It’s your loss not mine”.

He knew he fucked up. You’ve been there for him every day for the past five years and all of that just slipped out of his hands.

Nobody was going to wait for him when he arrived back home, shit, he wasn’t going to have anybody to call when he’s away and tell them how much of a shit day he had or just to hear you talk about how boring life was because he wasn’t there.

“I’m sorry” That’s the best he can come up with.

“Yeah, me too” that’s all you say before leaving his apartment, that was it for you.

You pretend you didn’t hear him call your name, you pretend that you don’t love him, that they are just some stupid feelings, that won’t take long for them to fade away. You pretend that he didn’t hurt you as much as he did or that he just broke your heart in a million pieces.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster angst #rooster one shot #rooster smut #rooster top gun #top gun #top gun maverick

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norman-fucking-reedus · 2 months

Text

high late night thought but I have this crazy idea about the reader making Daryl a multifunctional wooden crossbow and its frying my brain

It happened as the two of you were making your way back to your campsite after a long day of splashing and hand catching fish in the lake, Daryl nudged your shoulder with his and pointed to a deer. “M’gon get it” He whispered, already aimming his crossbow.

You turned your head briefly, checking to see where Dog had wondered off too when you heard what sounded like elastic snapping, followed by Daryl’s very frantic cursing.

“What happened?!” When you whipped around, Daryl was already crouched around the bow as he made an attempt to fix it. You got next to him to try and see what was wrong. “It didn’t fire like it was supposed ta… Hold tha part” Your fingers pinched the piece he pointed at, watching as his hands slightly trembled as he tried to re string the bow to the actual trigger, you holding down the piece that clamps the trigger into place.

Snap.

Daryl held up the fully broken string, feeling his heart break along with it.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Daryl” You whispered as you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He shook his head, once again trying to jam the string ends back into place but to no avail, only further damaging the weapon. He exhaled in frustration. “I’ve had this damned thing since I was a teenager, it was tha’ first thing Merle ever got fer me” Daryl mumbled, rolling the thick bowstring in his hands. His chest hurt and there was a small lump building in his throat.

You stared down at the crossbow, analyzing it’s shape before carefully picking it up to take a better look at the mechanics. “C’mon. We can figure something out handsome”

It took you a few months to figure something out.

Over that time period, Daryl was absolutely crushed.

He was visibly upset, snapping and yelling at anyone who talked to him, on one occasion at Judith, but he quickly apologized.

It was obvious to everyone that Daryl’s crossbow was of extreme sentimental value, and it would take time for him to heal. Carol had offered to teach him how to use a standard bow, only to be dismissed with an agitated “I used a goddamn bow ‘nd arrow before”

Daryl was frustrated with nobody but himself, frustrated that the countless times he’s had to fix the thing, he couldn’t do it one more time.

You spent the first half of the first month studying how all the strings worked and the mechanisms of the weapon in general. It wasn’t complicated, especially when you started to pick stuff apart. You spent the other half brainstorming and designing ideas for a more sturdier and functional crossbow, trying to stay calm as you watched Daryl intimidatingly stalk around the community. You felt bad knowing you both blamed yourselves, even though it was neither one of yours fault.

You got lucky in the second month, when you and Carol had gotten lost in the woods, and your only flashlight stopped working.

You just couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore, “I’m trying to make Daryl a new crossbow” You blurted out as the two of you stopped walking. Carol turned to you in the dark, striking a match as she did. “That’s nice, how’s it goin?” She smiled softly at your eye roll. “I just don’t know exactly to build it, let alone design” You scoffed, kicking a rock. You weren’t some kind of handyman, but it made busied your mind to have something to build or deconstruct. “Well, we’re in the forest. Why not get some wood?” Carol struck another match, your eyes flickering towards the sound, watching the stick ignite into flames. You nodded, smiling absently as you followed her.

When you got home, you dropped the logs and rummaged through the drawers, grabbing a box of matches and speed walking over to your drawing pad.

You pulled the crossbow out from where you kept it, placing it on the table and quickly walking back to snatch up the logs.

There was more than enough to make a decent amount of arrows, and to try creating a new piece to properly re-string the previously broken one, plopping down into a chair as you started to pick apart the weapon, creative thoughts beginning to flow.

You used your large knife to chop and carve the wood, occasionally nicking yourself or cutting just a little too much off. You took breaks inbetween to draw out ideas, standing up to get a better look before sitting back down, scribbling on the paper or dragging the sharp blade down a wooden piece.

By the third month, you were gluing and securing down new parts and pieces, following a vision in your head.

The crossbow has its original black structure, a small piece of wood right behind the formerly faulty trigger to help it fire once more. You had taken off the head in previous months, not sure what to do with it until recently, picking up the separate piece and turning it around in your hands. The idea of multi function flooded your head, staring down at the arched part and back at the structure as you already busied yourself with mending and bending metal.

You had to re-string and re-wire a few sections, standing up for a test run every so often as you worked vigorously. You were proud of yourself for being able to fix the trigger itself, however this was an even greater fix. You rose to your feet and slid the weapons end over your shoulder, aimming before firing. The string cracked forward as the arrow shot out, and you pulled it back into it’s wooden place, firing one more arrow.

You smiled softly to yourself for being able to fix it, and moved to once more pop the bows head off, only this time setting the structure down and holding it put in front of you, pulling the string back with your fingers and releasing, arrow flying to join the others. “Damn I outdo myself everyday” You pumped a fist in the air as you moved to yank the three arrows from out of the wall.

The head snapped easily back into place, along with the string. You added the dozen wooden sticks you had carved into various sized arrows into the crossbows original holder, staring down at weapon for any overlooked mistakes or potential last minute details. The matchbox briefly crossed your mind.

“Where’s Daryl?” You squinted your eyes and shielded them from the sun, glancing up at Aaron. “Said he was going out. Didn’t wanna push” The man shrugged and you nodded, thanking him for his help before going back to your house to put your gear on.

As you walked out the gates, newly modified crossbow slung around your shoulder, you couldn’t help but wink at your friends prying eyes.

Part of you wasn’t even sure where Daryl would be if not hunting out the woods, but then you realized he wouldn’t go anywhere but the woods.

Your feet led you back to your old campsite, where your heart soared as you spotted faint but very much footprints, following them with your knife drawn closely by your side. The prints were leading you to the lake, and at first you thought maybe you followed old prints, however held your breath when you finally spotted Daryl sitting on the edge of the water. You approached carefully, trying your best to keep the weapon concealed.

“Quit followin’ me” Daryl mumbled when you were standing behind him. You sat next to him, crossbow behind the two of you as you stared out into the water, then at Daryl. He simply looked at ground while digging a small hole with a rock, choosing to remain silent in your presence. It comforted him a little, and he spared a quick glance at you, head snapping upwards. “You- Did you-“ You placed the bow into his lap, fighting your smile as he carefully picked it up and analyzed it. “Why… How’d ya fix it?” He whispered, fingers caressing the wooden chunks and the bow head itself. “I’m sorry it took so long” You mumbled but Daryl shook his head. “Who cares? Ya still fixed it ‘nd then some!” His eyes sparkled as he was already positioning it onto his shoulder, aimming at a nearby tree and whooping at the sound of the string cracking and the arrow flying.

When he noticed the string out of it’s place however, he frowned. “It’s broke” You chuckled, taking the weapon from him and angling it so he could watch you. “It’s got lots of new feats. Bow and arrow good sir?” You popped off the head and handed it him, laughing at his stunned look. Daryl held the arch out in front of him and pulled the string back, sending an arrow next to the previous one. He whipped his head back around, eyes catching your fingers as they fiddled with a red stripe in the middle of the structure, right where the arrow goes. “I haven’t tested this myself” You whispered as you showed Daryl how to properly snap the head back on before rising to your feet.

“Ain’t a self-destruct is it?” Daryl stretched as he stood next to you, moving to yank the few strays out the tree. You shook your head, sliding one of your wooden arrows out the holder and bringing it to the stripe, quickly dragging it across and sliding it into position, flames licking the arrows head. Daryl whistled as it fired into a tree, fire still burning until it wasn’t. “Damn girl. I ain’t ever lettin’ ya get away” Daryl stepped into your space, one hand grabbing your waist and the other relieving you of the heavy weapon, slinging it over his shoulder. “Nice strap” He snorted, glancing down at the magneta shoulder strap replacing his black one. You softly kissed his lips, smiling as your hands rested against his chest. “How else will I identify you, huntermam?” His hands on your waist pulled you closer, thumbs rubbing circles into the skin. Daryl looked and felt much more like himself, an easy smile resting on his lips, his crossbow once again slung over his shoulder, and his woman warm under the touch of his hands.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

its 3 am and im fucking high as fuck guys live laugh love actually who’s down for a stoner reader fic thats sounds so fire

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #norman fucking reedus #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl x female reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd

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memoiremunson · 1 year

Text

Saccharine Mornings - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie admires your process getting ready.

A/N: I know it's been a while but life has been crazy (in a good way!) and today I just felt inspired to finally write this idea that i've had floating around! Also, I felt this wasn't my best work so i might update it later but for now, c'est la vie! As always, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 581

Warnings: nudity, kissing, fluff

● - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ●

The morning had been crisp when Eddie first felt his consciousness work to alert his sore, tired limbs. He became acutely aware of the dark ringlets tickling his cheeks.

Groaning, his hand felt for a hair tie, rummaging through the wrinkled sheets as his eyes closed in desperation to gain as much sleep as possible. Finding one of yours, as yours always had a metal band rather than just elastic, he smiled lazily.

Sitting up, the sheets pooled in his lap, soft and warm from the heat garnered by your nude bodies. He slowly gathered his ruly curls into a low bun. Eddie finally broke his eyes open.

The golden sunlight had managed to crack through the curtains. Eddie let out a happy sigh as this was probably one of his favorite times of the day. He could hear the shower head running and gradually creaking to an end, signaling you had finished your morning shower.

Eddie waited patiently in bed, much more awake now that he was about to watch you get ready. Eddie simply loved watching you pamper and ready yourself for the day ahead. It was something that was both intimate and domestic in its nature.

He could never pinpoint how he came to love this act of normalcy but in his eyes, you were the epitome of beauty. He always felt that your beauty was a clear glass reflection of how beautiful your soul is.

Breaking his stream of thoughts about you, you walked out in a towel. A smile spread across your face as you met his honey-brown eyes.

You could still see the blanket of sleep over him but his eyes still lit ablaze every time you met them. You scanned his frame, how the sunlight seemed to kiss his chest, highlighting his various tattoos. You loved Eddie like this. Relaxed, hair fluffy and wild, and absolutely love-smitten.

Soft “good morning’s” are exchanged but kept quiet to not interrupt the tranquility of the moment. You immediately went to do your after-shower routine. Dropping your towel, you poured lotion onto your palms, warming them up before lathering your skin.

Eddie watched and basked in the glory of your womanly form. He drank in the way you so delicately rubbed the sweet-smelling cream into your skin, massaging it in with expertise.

He sometimes asked if he could do it for you but today was not one of those days, today he simply wanted to admire.

The room is quiet as the only sounds are of you rustling around putting on various products and Eddie’s light breathing. His eyes glaze over as you finish putting your lipstick on.

Finished with your routine, you make your way over to his side of the bed before planting a kiss on his full lips. He drinks in the soft moan you let out as he pulls you in tighter from your neck. You break the kiss, happy that the lipstick’s promise of being smudge-proof proved true.

“I’ll see you after work, yeah?” You ask. Voice low and eyes desperately lost in the depths of Eddie’s doe eyes.

“Of course, baby. I’ll be there to pick you up like always.” He smirks. His thumb brushing your cheek ever so lightly.

Blushing, you finally make your way out of the room towards the front door, leaving for work.

Eddie runs his fingers over his lips with the gentlest touch where your saccharine lips once were. He wonders how he got ever so lucky.

Thank you for reading, Angel! <3

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson x reader protective #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fic

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bbyquokka · 11 months

Text

5:15 pm (hjs)

genre: timestamp, fluff, angst (if you squint) — MDNI!

warnings: gn! reader, established relationship, insecure reader, pet names

words: 1.2k ~ (1278)

a/n: i was watching the intro vid to 5 star, saw jisung's hair, fell in love with him all over again and this is the result. direction of it wasn't planned, it just happened because my brain said so

♡ m.list — ♡ you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

“let me braid your hair!” you whine for the nth time. jisung let's out a soft sigh before pushing his round glasses up to rest on the bridge of his nose.

“why would you want to do that?”

“because it's so pretty and long now. i just want to braid it and put it in a ponytail. i wanna play with your hair, ji before you get it all cut short.” you say with a pout.

“fine! but just this once, ok?” he laughs softly as he watches you rush to the bedroom to gather accessories, hair ties and a brush.

during the process, jisung moved and situated himself on the wooden floor by the sofa. you rush to him, sitting on the sofa and spreading your legs to allow him to shuffle between them.

he turns his attention to the tv as you grab the brush. you gently run it through his long, silver and grey hair to free his hair from any knots. you place the brush down by your side before gently running your fingers through it slowly.

your fingers become lost in the sea of hair. the soft strands tickling your fingertips. jisung hums softly in contentment, his body relaxing at the soft and gentle gesture.

“does that feel nice, ji?” he hums softly as he nods. you smile to yourself before reaching around to the front of his face. you gather his hair together, leaving a few strands to hand in front of his face.

you part his hair down the middle, gathering one side up into a high pony. you giggle to yourself as you secure the strands in pink elastic before doing the same to the other side. you add in a few colourful butterfly clips before handing jisung the mirror.

“whatcha think?” you giggle. jisung takes the mirror, his brows furrowed together as he checks out the hairstyle.

“babeee!” he whines, “you said you'd braid it.”

“i know, i know! but you look so adorable!”

“really?” he looks up at you to which you hum before leaning down and gently kissing the tip of his cute nose.

“really really. but i will braid it, don't worry ji.”

you take out the clips and the elastics before brushing out his hair again. you run your fingers through it a few times, taking in the softness and how healthy and long his hair currently is.

“i love your hair. it's so soft and healthy.”

“the advantages of having good quality hair products.” he says with a chuckle. “seeing how much i dye it, it has to look and feel healthy.”

“mhm. i'm slightly jealous.” you say as you start to braid his hair.

“why?”

“because you're so perfect and flawless, ji. you're so handsome and beautiful. everyone loves and adores you. you don't have a single flaw about you. sometimes i wonder…” you pause, feeling a lump burn in your throat suddenly as the feeling of insecurity hits you hard.

“what do you wonder, baby?” his voice is soft and gentle as he is quick to pick up on the way your voice quivers, no matter how hard you try to cover it up.

“sometimes i wonder why you're with me.” your voice is nothing but a small and gentle whisper, in hopes he didn’t hear you–which he did.

“i'm with you because i love you.”

“i know but, you're you and i'm me.” you secure the ends of his braid with an elastic, before scanning for any imperfections such as lumps and bumps.

“i don't understand, baby.”

“i'm just me. meaning i'm basic. i have flaws, i'm not perfect. i get insecure sometimes because i look at other people, people who are so much better than me in terms of looks and talents and i can't stop myself from thinking that you'd be so much better off with them than me.”

“baby–”

regret rises to the surface before sinking deep in your stomach. you swallow that burning lump that refuses to go away before quickly wiping your eyes.

“forget it.” you hastily say, “forget i said anything. let's just continue being happy and act like i haven't just ruined the mood.” you say with a sullen laugh. you rise to your feet to clear up the hair products.

a hand wraps around your wrist, gently pulling you down on jisung's lap to straddle him. your eyes widen at the surprising action before you sheepishly look down. you idly play with the material of his t-shirt and his silver neck chain, not wanting to make eye contact with him because if you do, you'll cry.

“look at me.” he gently strokes your hair and cheeks before slowly tracing your jawline with his finger. he hooks his finger under your chin, lifting it up so you're forced to look at him.

your eyes scan his facial features. from how plump his bottom lip is to the small, delicate mole on his cheek. the dam breaks, tears suddenly falling down your cheeks slowly.

“don't cry, my love.” he gently hushes you, raking his fingers through your hair slowly. he gently pushes you against his chest, encouraging you to put all your weight on him.

the softness of his skin, his touch and the rhythmic thumping of his heart rate calms you down to some extent. negative thoughts rush through your mind, thoughts you don't want to think but you can't help. An unwelcome guest that’s no stranger to you.

jisung rocks you back and forth, hushing and cooing you gently as he rubs your back and strokes your hair. a few minutes later, you manage to calm down as you pull away, sniffling.

“want to know why i'm with you and not someone else?” you look down, nodding slowly. “because you make me feel things i haven't felt nor never felt in a very very long time, yn.”

you look up at him, his expression so soft and eyes glossed over and shiny with so much love and admiration for you.

“i feel happy, excited. i feel like i'm the luckiest man on this planet. you may think i don't have flaws because you see me as this perfect being but i have flaws. everyone has some type of flaw. i'm not always perfect baby. i still have a lot to learn but with you by my side, i know it's going to be ok.”

“but what abo–”

“i don't want no one else but you. you're perfect to me. whether it be a good day, bad day. whether your hair is unwashed or you've been living in the same clothing for days, i don't care. i want that. you're human, you're real. you're true to yourself and to everyone else. i like that about you and it's what makes me love you so much.”

“ji..” your bottom lip sticks out as your eyes well up with tears yet again.

“i see myself with you and only you. just like how you see me as perfect and flawless is how i see you. i love you yn. i'm head over heels, a hundred percent smitten for you.”

“i love you too.” you sob. the negative thoughts and feelings washing away with each kind and gentle word you hear. the reassurance from jisung puts your mind, soul and heart at rest.

nothing but love overpowers your body once again as you lean in to kiss jisung softly. he holds onto your waist, pulling you closer so you're sat in his crotch. you place your hands on his cheeks as you both bask in the warmth of each other;

in the warmth that's called love.

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @myprwttyhan ; @fairylouist ; @septicrebel ; @bbujiikseu ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer

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emilykaldwen · 6 days

Text

Lost | Aegon x OC | Modern!AU | NSFW

Rating: Explicit (oral sex, f receiving. fingering, girl on top, mild breeding kink, mild dirty talk, lots of feelings and thunderstorms) Pairing: Aegon x Abrogail Strong

Summary: Lightning streaks across the sky and he pauses, knees bumping at the edge of the bed. It illuminates her features, and her eyes are large in her thin face, cheeks streaked with tears. There’s an aching in his chest and he immediately crawls across the covers into her waiting arms, draws her into him and drags his mouth against her cheeks. She whimpers at the touch, trembles against him in time with the thunder and he tastes salt on his mouth.

Notes: Unbeta'd! @vampire-exgirlfriend had sent me a prompt for some southern gothic!Abrogon which has been a little AU world I've been playing in. This is a repost, since I can't find my original post.

Follow @emkald-fic and subscribe for notifications or find me on AO3!

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She doesn’t move at the sound of the window opening. Abby stays in her four poster bed, rolled over on her left side tucked under the covers and the lace curtains flutter in the breeze and the lazy spin of the ceiling fan.

“Are you awake?” Aegon asks, toeing off his boots from his perch on her window sill. The air smells of ozone, the storm rolling in and there’s a flash of light and he silently counts. One… two… three… the rumble of thunder answers and he rolls his shoulders with it, reaching back over his head to pull off his worn t-shirt.

She shifts beneath the pale pink blanket, her hair tied back in a ponytail but gives no other answer. He scratches his fingers across his bare chest, the fine blonde hair gathered there catching on his calloused fingers and reaches down to shuck his jeans off like he always does. The clink of the belt buckle echoes in the room and Abby shifts again, turns in her bed to face him.

Lightning streaks across the sky and he pauses, knees bumping at the edge of the bed. It illuminates her features, and her eyes are large in her thin face, cheeks streaked with tears. There’s an aching in his chest and he immediately crawls across the covers into her waiting arms, draws her into him and drags his mouth against her cheeks. She whimpers at the touch, trembles against him in time with the thunder and he tastes salt on his mouth. Comforting his girlfriend buck ass naked and half hard since he left his house twenty minutes ago thinking about her.

“What’s wrong?” he swipes his thumb along the apple of her cheeks, cups the softness of it. Softness that’s slowly been going away over the past few months since her dad got sick. The heart attack and the stroke, the way her shoulders bowed beneath the stress.

“Harwin.”

“What about him?” His brother in law. His girlfriend’s older brother, and Aegon wonders if they’ve achieved peak southern stereotype by having him be his brother in law on both sides. Eventually. When they get to that point where he can be the man Abby needs him to be. One who isn’t jobless and still living with his mom and flunked out of Tulane.

“He wants to move dad in with him and Nyra. Says I should come too. Finish out senior year in the city.”

The answer is immediate. “I’ll figure out how to get back into Tulane and you can live with me.”

“Aegon.”

“Or if that doesn’t work, I’ll move you into the big house.”

“Your mom wouldn’t allow it.”

Aegon makes a face. “She doesn’t have to know.”

That gets a wet laugh from her and it’s all he wants to hear. She says nothing except presses her wet face against his neck. His hand drops to her cute ass beneath the hem of his Hozier t-shirt he got at the concert they went to last year, runs his fingers under the elastic edges of her panties. “Let me make you feel better,” he whispers against her knotted curls. When was the last time she brushed her hair? He moves his fingers and strokes his knuckles along the seam of her, separated by the purple cotton with the little white hearts dotted all over it.

The thunder rumbles nearly over them, little time between the flashes of lightning, casting shadows across the room

Her hips shift against his touch, the puff of damp breath against his throat and he tugs the cotton aside, strokes two fingers along where she’s warm, and he promises her in whispers that she’s safe. His fingers come away damp and his thumb joins in to press against her clit, draws that achy whimper and her teeth catch against his neck, cock hard between them. The whine Abby makes is muffled with the rest of her sounds when he presses both fingers in and he groans into her hair. “Little rabbit, you’re so fucking tight.” Tiny and tight, whimpering and wriggling against two thick fingers curling into her. If he was kinder, he would have made her come first and let her loosen up.

Aegon is a good boyfriend, but he’s not always a kind one.

Abby doesn’t mind. Her body grips him tight that he can barely move with how tense and needy she is against him. He presses kisses against her brow and pulls her closer. “Take it easy… I’ve got you. Let go, Abs.” He feels her nod against his shoulder, spit gathering from her rubbing her mouth against his skin and he finds a rhythm, grinds the heel of his palm into her clit while he works his fingers against her, insistent on making her see stars.

Harwin and Rhaenyra are asleep downstairs, in town to take care of things with her father’s heart attack and Larys’... mysterious disappearance with a warrant out for his arrest. Wylla had found the dump site and it was the brotherly bonding activity between him, Aemond, and Daeron when the youngest was home for the weekend from his fancy boarding school.

Uncle Daemon had even showed up. A full family event as Aegon watched the dozens of blinking eyes swim closer. Listened to the whining gasp of his girlfriend’s monster of an older brother who thought he could make Abby an amusement, invade her and rob her of her sense of safety all for the fact that the foot fetish OnlyFans weren’t enough for him.

The gators had thrashed with glee in the water, the shadows thrown long from the headlights of the SUV, Larys hogtied on the pool inflatable, shirtless and bleeding from the dozen cuts sliced into him.

Blood in the water, nothing left behind.

“I want to stay,” Abby whimpers and her sounds, those precious sounds turn high pitched and draw him from the memory. Aegon licks into her mouth to swallow them down, keeping them from escaping the precious space of her bed. Her body bows and arcs into his touch. They’ve gone through the room from one corner to the other. The cameras are gone. It’s just them and the storm.

Aegon was too distracted to put a towel down, too in a hurry to comfort his crying girl and when she comes with a frantic jerk of her hips and a rush of wet like a broken levee, he makes sure the blankets are gathered beneath her cute ass so they can keep going.

Rain starts to ping against the windows, the howl of the wind audible through the cracks of the old frames and Abby lays against her pillows, dreamy eyed and swollen mouth watching him while she pants in the fall of her first orgasm he’s given her in weeks.

He’s a good boyfriend. His hand splays across the soft swell of her stomach to push his shirt up and over her pert tits, stroking against the pebbled peaks and hums in contemplation. “Be quiet,” he orders her and she nods frantically, reaching for his hand to noisily suck on the fingers he had inside of her. He raises his eyebrows at her and she hums. It’s good to see her cheeky and each suck shoots straight down his spine to his cock.

The head of it drags against her, bumps up against her clit and he’d tease her endlessly until she came twice, three times. He’s too impatient though. It’s been too long and with the way she swallows his fingers down, splays her legs wide and hooks them over his hips, it’s been too long for her too.

Abby gets stuck in her head with her pretty brows furrowed, and her nose scrunched up in thought. She needs him to take care of her, she needs him, needs him needs him, him only him.

He draws his fingers from her warm mouth with a wet pop and he kisses the whine from her mouth, rolls them over so he’s on his back and his girl is straddled across his lap.

Only him, only him and her and them in this bed. No one to ever hurt her again, no one to scare her. He reaches down to rub his cock against her and they both moan and shudder. Abby’s hips wiggle trying to catch him in and she pouts, opens her mouth to whine and complain and he shoves his fingers past her pretty lips once more.

“No wonder you were crying,” he teases her and he slides against her. Once. Twice. Third time's the charm, catches where he needs and he presses in with a groan and a roll of his hips. She works her way down and her free hand presses on his chest to keep her balance. “Gods, you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you, taking me like this.”

She’s so beautiful with her hair tangled around her flushed face, eyes large and wet that he thinks he can drown in them if he stares at her long enough. Aegon can’t decide what to take in more: the sweet expressions on her face while she sinks down, or the way she splits around him, the way he disappears into her. He drops his hand from her hip to work her clit, slow swipes his thumb along the aching bud. Abby wriggles and whimpers and then… then….

The groans they make in unison have his toes curling in delight when she fully takes him and he arches into her and thinks, ‘we could just run away’.

Aegon doesn’t know where they’d run to, and doesn’t particularly care. All that matters to him is this. He surges up and takes her face in his hands, needs to breathe in her cries and her sounds and every good thing he’s doing to her, that she’s feeling because they’re together and she’s with him. Aegon licks into her mouth like he owns her, like she belongs to him and part of him would say it was true, uncaring of the eye roll that it’d get.

Abby doesn’t push him away. No, she claws her hands against his shoulders, his biceps, dives in to pull at his hair in all the feral little ways he adores, and he thinks, ‘If she is mine, then I am hers’. He relishes at the marks she scores in her desperation, and the painful way she tugs at his hair so he’ll feel it for hours afterwards.

Her hands find his shoulders and she breaks their kiss, her pouty mouth swollen, and red as jolly ranchers. “More,” she says with a crack in her delicate voice and pushes him down. Abby’s pupils are blown so wide the river blue of them is a thin rim, and as lightening flashes through her windows, she looks possessed. Feral, even.

“Take it all,” he promises her with a guilelessness he hasn’t held since he was a boy. She is everything sacred left in this world to him. She is his goddess, his beginning and his end. Abby finds her rhythm in the dance of her hips and he relishes in how his rabbit uses him for her pleasure, uses him for her escape into the world they’ve made together. She draws the t-shirt over her glistening skin and Aegon sighs, happily, to watch her perky tits bounce and the way her flush blooms across her skin.

He reaches up to gather the bead of sweat coursing down her sternum and groans when she slaps his hand away.

“I didn’t s-say you couldn’t touch,” she tries to command him and he drags his nails over her belly, watches her quiver and whimper as he skims lower where she’s so sensitive.

“I wanna touch.” He preens at her and thrusts up, drunk with how tight she is around him. This is as close as he can get to crawling inside of her into the place between her ribs where he wants to live forever.

The second smack to his hand is loud in the room and he growls at her, the lilac of his eyes a burning blaze. Her head rolls to her shoulder, her hand coming up to tweak and twist the pebbled nipple and his mouth waters. “Give me.”

“S-say please.” She tugs at her breasts again and he feels her clench around him and sees stars for a moment. His breath catches and he licks his lips, mouth too wet and he hasn’t even gone down on her.

Too impatient for his own good.

He reaches up and wraps his thick fingers around her wrist, digits still damp from her hungry mouth, and tugs her down so he can ensnare her. She struggles, a wriggling rabbit and he bands his other arm around her back so she’s pressed to his chest, her knotted hair curtaining around them.

Aegon bites at her candy mouth and breathes into her all the love he holds for her, as broken and as messy as it is. She’s unable to move and his hips snap into her with a relentless focus. Her bratty behavior is adorable and it ignites the need he has for her to levels that he can’t do in a house where her brother can and will shoot him on sight for this.

What better way to die than to be covered in her, and she with him?

She cries into his mouth when she reaches that pretty point where her body shakes and trembles and writhes, where her muscles clamp him down like she’s gonna pull him inside to stay. He falls with her a moment after and it’s better than any hit he’s taken, any bottom of the bottle of Jack he’s had. There’s nothing better than Abby for the high he wants. There’s nothing better than the tingly sparkle feel where everything, in that moment, feels like goddamn fireworks and cotton candy and her shaky voice whispering, “I love you I love you,” into his mouth.

Nothing better than breathing back his own, “I love you I love you.”

He drags her up his body so she’s straddling his face and admires the mess he’s made of her cunt. A gentle tap with the back of his hand, and slides his fingers in the mess, lets it drip down, licks at her like the feral, hungry animal that lives inside of him. She’s on the pill and for a mad moment while he works his tongue inside her where she’s sore and sated, he wishes she wasnt.

If he got her pregnant, then, she couldn’t leave. She’d have to stay and they’d live their little life with their baby and they’d be happy and-

She’s coming again like a little earthquake, a burst of damp and her thighs are trembling so hard he takes pity on her and draws her down. Arms come back around her and Abby rubs her cheek against his shoulder, that place beneath his chin that was made just for her, the place made just so he could hold her close to him and their hearts could beat in time.

His Abby is made for great things. Things greater than this shitty town with the ghosts and the gators and the weights around their ankles. She’s far too good for him, far better than the rotted likes of him, but when she tilts her face back to kiss his jaw with another whispered, “I love you,” he thinks that maybe he’s being too hard on himself.

If Abby Strong could find something in him to love, then maybe he’s not such a lost cause.

“If you wanna go with them” he murmured against the crown of her hair, the scent of her shampoo faded to almost nothing by now. “I could… I could come with you.”

His chest is tight, his eyes shining with unshed tears. She’s not saying anything, just puffs of warm breath against his skin and he wonders for a moment if she’s fallen asleep. Then, little fingers trace the spot above his heart.

“Do you want to?” she whispers and it’s her scared whisper, the one where she hides with him under the covers and tells him about the bad dreams and the worries and the way she misses her mom.

“I just wanna be with you.” He steels himself and turns his head so he can look at her. Eyes shining with an expression he can’t quite figure out and the thunder rumbles overhead, rain lashing against the window.

A storm to wash everything bad away and make it new.

“I wanna be with you too.” She smiles then, and presses her flushed face into his neck. He tightens his arms around her.

“I’d follow you wherever you wanna go,” he tells her with his lips pressed into her hair. “I’m a balloon tied around your wrist. Red strings and all that. I’ll be good. I’ll be better. I’ll be whoever you want me to be.”

Just don’t leave me.

“Just be you,” she whispers. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just you. My Aegon.”

He nods and squeezes her tighter. “Your Aegon. Always.”

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