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#some of them are smut
becca-e-barnes · 8 months
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Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹
My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵
I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)
I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.
He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.
He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.
He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.
"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."
His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.
"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.
He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.
"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.
"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.
"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.
"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."
His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.
"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."
With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.
"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.
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dumplingsjinson · 7 months
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List of “how about we get comfy and cozy with each other, in more ways than one?” prompts
(Warning: This list is pretty much an overshare in the form of a prompt list, because it is very much based on my personal experiences. A lot of TMI happens. 
If that makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read the list. If you’re okay with it, proceed on at your own discretion. 
Don’t say I didn’t warn you because… It’s a lot.) 
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1. “I hope I’m not being too needy.” “Well, I like it when you’re needy. I like it when you’re like this.” (THE FUCKING AUDACITY OF THIS MAN WLEIFLEKWNKLEWFN) 
2. Character B groping Character A’s ass while they’re making out.
3. Character A moaning and whimpering into Character B’s ear while rubbing themselves against Character B’s thigh, desperate for release.
4. “I… I want you to touch me,” Character A admits, while staring up at the ceiling, cheeks reddening in an increasing show of embarrassment.
5. “Tell me to stop if it becomes too much, okay?” 
6. Character B dry humping Character A; hips thrusting into theirs, picking up with the pace when Character A whimpers in their ear and pulls Character B even closer in response because they don’t want any sort of space left between them; not even a sliver. 
7. Character B getting all sweaty and heated while they’re dry humping Character A.
8. Character B taking off their shirt to get more comfortable with Character A, and Character A subtly admiring their physique. (WHEN HE DID THAT?? THE DISRESPECT??? This guy’s gonna ruin me, I know it sjjsjs)
9. “Don’t be too loud,” Character B murmurs softly, planting a tender kiss on Character A’s face while sliding their thigh against Character A’s crotch, taking in the way Character A lets out a strangled sigh at that. (SIRRRR?? THEN DON’T FUCKING DO THIS TO ME?? WTF LWKENFWEK. Mind you, his fam came home after we were alone for an hour or two, so-)
10. Character A and Character B continuously checking in on each other every now and again to make sure they’re comfortable with the way things are going. 
11. Character B planting soft kisses all over Character A’s face and their neck, reassuring and sweet while things get very, very heated. 
12. “You’re going to make me not want to leave the bed if you keep doing this,” Character A warns in a low moan, as Character B continues to kiss their neck, their body pressing against Character A’s. Character B only chuckles in response, nipping at their skin playfully. 
13. Legs tangling together so they can get closer to each other. 
14. Character B fondling Character A, enjoying the noises they’re eliciting from Character A; enjoying the way they’re making Character A unravel at the seams, coming undone by their touch so easily. 
15. Character A hiding their face into Character B’s shirt because they can’t keep the noises at bay, and hoping to God they’re not being too loud. 
16. Character A and Character B’s hands roaming each other’s bodies, almost like they can’t get enough of each other (and they can’t. They can’t get enough of each other is the fucking problem here).
17. Character A desperately humping Character B’s thigh, chasing their high, shameless noises scraping at the back of their throat. 
18. Character B’s fingers speeding up in response to the sweet sounds falling out of Character A’s mouth. 
19. Character B letting their hands wander all over Character A’s body; slipping under their shirt, their pants, their undergarments, and Character A enjoying having their hands all over them like this even though they’re too shy to admit to that with words. 
20. “Do you want me to straddle you?” 
21. “How am I supposed to think about anything else while fucking myself now?” Character A questions in a rushed gasp as Character B continues to rub their thigh against their crotch.
22. “You’re so adorable,” Character B murmurs as they continue to thrust their hips into Character A’s. “How is me doing this adorable to you?” Character A questions, moaning a little at a particularly hard thrust of Character B’s hips against theirs. 
23. Character B leaving hickeys on Character A’s neck, on spots that make them pretty damn visible to the public.
24. “So… How do you like it on top?” “It’s uh… It’s an interesting experience.”
25. Character B’s body responding to the noises Character A’s making because of what they’re doing with them; to them.
26. Character B’s hand slipping past Character A’s pants to grope their bare ass while they’re dry humping each other.
27. Character B hitching Character A onto their thigh, pressing their thigh firmly against Character A’s crotch to tease them. 
28. Character B caging Character A between their arms while kissing them, and Character A’s arms wrapping around Character B’s neck to pull them closer, fingers carding through their hair; hands sliding down their neck; their shoulders; their arms; slipping under their tank top, palms resting against their bare skin; palms gliding along their spine and their back. 
29. Character B asking for consent whenever they want to do something a little out of the blue, and stopping when Character A isn’t comfortable with it. (BOUNDARY RESPECTING KING, PEOPLE NEED TO BE LIKE HIM!!) 
30. “Sorry if I went too far,” Character B says, and Character A shakes their head. “No, you didn’t go too far. You didn’t go far at all; you didn’t go far enough,” Character A says, flushing at the brazen admission coming out of their own mouth.
31. Character B trailing kisses down Character A’s chest/breasts. 
32. Character B pulling up Character A’s undergarment/shirt and taking Character A’s breast/nipple into their mouth, with Character A arching into them with pleasure at the unexpected gesture, a soft, encouraging gasp leaving them.
33. Character B slipping their hand under Character A’s shirt/undergarments to fondle with their nipples/breasts. 
34. Just Character A being a needy little fuck and needing Character B to be all over them because they’re so fucking addicted to the taste of them and the way their body rocks against theirs. 
35. Character A letting out little obscenities while they’re fooling around, which only fuels Character B further. 
36. “Well, now I’m really wet/hard.” “I see no problem with that.” 
37. Character A rocking back against Character B while they’re spooning and Character B shallowly thrusting against them in response. 
38. Character A biting their bottom lip to try and keep quiet (and failing pretty miserably).
39. “Yeah, you like that?” Character B softly murmurs into Character A’s ear as Character A lets out an involuntary sigh, arching up into Character B in response. 
40. “Well… I do fantasise being restrained by handcuffs.” “We can try that in the future if you’d like.” (WELL FUCK ME I GUESS LWKENFEWLKNF) 
41. Character A moaning into Character B’s mouth while they’re making out, which spurs Character B on, with the way they pull Character A even closer and kisses them harder; with much more fervour than before. 
42. Character B touching, teasing and feeling Character A up. (DID Y’ALL GET THAT WAYV REFERENCE OR WHAT—)
43. Character B caressing the side Character A’s thigh while they’re kissing.
44. “And you’re telling me this is what cuddling is?” “Mhm.” “Bullshit.”
45. Character A fucking themselves on Character B’s fingers, whimpering in a way they’d be embarrassed about if they weren’t so in the moment. 
46. Character A trying so fucking hard to control the soft little whimpers leaving them when Character B rubs against them with their fingers. 
47. “I’m all over the place and it’s all your fault,” Character A whines while Character B chuckles. “Mmm, it’s not all on me, you know,” Character B says, tone teasing. 
48. “It’s just me and you now,” Character B murmurs softly, planting a kiss on Character A’s lips, slowly rocking their hips against Character A. (onrwlfgnrekljng FUCK!! OFF!! ALKFHEWLKNF) 
49. Character B closing the blinds for privacy reasons. (He was struggling to close the blinds and I was giggling and teasing him about that lmfaofenlkfn)
50. Character B slipping their thigh between Character’s A’s legs with the intention of messing with them.
51. Character A grinding against Character B’s thigh and Character B responding by pressing their thigh firmer against Character A. 
52. The soft pleas and whimpers slipping out of Character A’s mouth as Character B quickens the thrusts of their fingers. 
53. “How are you feeling?” Character B would ask every now and then to make sure Character A’s comfortable and okay with what they’re doing, and the pace they’re going at. (This is ALWAYS so fucking sexy! Do this with your partner) 
54. Character B unbuttoning/unzipping Character A’s pants, in a tauntingly slow manner; slips their hand past the waist band of Character A’s pants whilst Character A squirms around a little, their heartbeat quickening in anticipation of what’s to come. (Uh, no pun intended???)
55. Taking a break in between each of their little sessions and cuddling with each other, and using those moments to check in on each other.
56. Character B stopping themselves from going further whenever they sense Character A getting a bit overwhelmed with everything that’s happening and making sure that they’re okay. (He just… He’s so caring and it’s so fucking sweet AHHHH) 
57. Character B’s ragged, laboured breathing in Character A’s ear as they fuck themselves against Character A, and Character A squeezing their biceps in encouragement; the soft pants from Character B and the whimpers and moans from Character A intermingling in the air.
58. Character A burying their face in Character B’s chest out of pure embarrassment after doing all of that, and Character B chuckling at them while cuddling them close to their chest, planting several kisses on their face. 
59. Character A’s clothing smelling like Character B’s because of how much they were all over each other, all day and night. 
60. Character A leaving Character B’s room with the messiest hair by the end of the night.
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Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Finally
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Spy!Reader
Plot: Bucky and you have a hard time staying away from each other. And though you try to push him away, every time he finds you again, the universe finds a new way to pull you apart.
Warnings: 18+. Smut, fluff and angst.
Words: 9,1OO
A/N: Recently I’ve been trying to understand what it is people want to read of my works and I have no idea, so here is my brain in scrambled pieces. I'm so sorry it’s so long, I swear it's worth it!
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Romania.
It isn’t often you agree to such an extensive trip to meet up with one of your clients, but apparently this particular one can’t be seen in the more supervised countries. Besides, you’ve never been to Bucharest before, so you’re quite enjoying your drink at the small picturesque café.
You’ve done your research and know damn well who you’re meeting up with. A small part of you is screaming at you not to agree to do business with him or back out now, but your curiosity overrules any common sense. Last you heard, Hydra had lost their favourite asset and you can confidently say you were relieved to hear it. It had been a few too many times that specific organisation had made your job more difficult than it had to be.
A many number of things could have happened to the Winter Soldier. He could’ve been killed, corrupted by another organisation, fled to live as a hermit– You really want to know. It’s the spy in you that enjoys knowing the ins and outs of the criminal world. He’d tried not to mention who he is, but you had a few offers on the table, he needed some leverage to get you to agree to meet him. Safe to say, you were surprised he’d told you he was the Winter Soldier. Big chance you will now be the only person to know about the asset’s current whereabouts. That is, if you live to tell it of course…
Every hair in your neck stands up straight, despite the comfortable weather and the easy going crowd roaming the street. The sudden change in atmosphere has your spy senses stand on alert. Your spine stiffens and you causally look around, slightly discouraged at the way your body has never responded to anything in this particular manner.
You cross your legs and turn to look behind you, scanning every face in the crowd. When you turn back, the seat next to yours is taken, only a rickety metal table separating you from the large man sat in the other chair. Your breath halts in your throat and you look him up and down, instantly recognising the buff man as the Winter Soldier. How? You’re not sure, you’d never really seen a picture.
You check his hands. Gloves. With this weather? To cover up. You check his build and take a particularly long time to do so, because God, this man is broad. He’s all sturdy flesh and muscle, firm and casual. His thighs look like tree trunks and you know the man is fast, despite his build. You force the deliberate sweep of your eyes over his body to appear more nonchalant and confident than you feel.
Then your eyes reach his face and the breath gets knocked out of you. There is nothing in that face that hints towards a stone cold killer. Dark blue, deep set eyes, freckles pattered over his nose and cheeks, lips bitten raw from contemplation and an expression on his face that almost looks like… Nerves?
“Hello,” you start carefully, unable to keep your surprise from your tone, but sounding relatively cool to your own relief.
“Hi,” he says and the tone of his voice is deep, but rough, like he hasn’t spoken in ages. You think that maybe he hasn’t.
“Should I refer to you as the Winter Soldier?” you ask, composing your cool nature entirely now. “Or would you say that is a bit on the nose?”
He huffs a laugh and you smile, feeling the overwhelming urge to make him do that again. “James will do, thanks.”
“Alright James,” you say, taking your time to let your mouth get acquainted with his name, “what is it you need my services for?”
“I hear you’re a spy,” he starts and searches your face. “A good one– the best one.”
“Well now, I’d hate to disappoint,” you purr. “What do you need?”
“It’s not so much a document or one piece of information,” he mumbles and his face hardens as he collects himself. You sit upright and frown as you study him. “I need you as a partner for an assignment.”
You instantly shake your head, “Absolutely not. I’m not working for Hydra, that organisation is–”
“Not Hydra,” he quickly cuts in. “Just me. It’s a personal assignment.”
You wait for him to continue, not appreciating his vague communication if he wants to become partners on whatever this is.
He sighs, “I– I have a lot of… gaps. Things I don’t remember, things I can’t quite place. Years of information. The things I did for Hydra– I wasn’t there for most of it. Neither were a lot of people. So I need someone with access to some dark shit to help me figure it out.”
Chewing your lip, you process the information he gives you and empathy clenches your heart together. James gives you the time you need to put the pieces together. You’d heard of Hydra’s experiments with brainwashing and had already sort of assumed some of their soldiers had only worked for them because of that reason, had stayed far away from the organisation’s shit to steer clear from that danger.
But it’s so different to see it in real life, or what is left of it, you suppose. Many things aren’t quite clear to you just yet. However, you slowly start nodding your head. Your brain starts running a million miles an hour, all the gears turning to form a plan, the way you always do before you agree to a job.
“Can you pay me for the service?” you ask, already wondering to yourself if you’d help the clearly hopeless and damaged man for free, and to be honest, just for kicks. The things you’d dig up from everything he’ll give you– Selfishly, you’d kill for it. Anyone would kill for it.
He gives you a tight-lipped, apologetic smile, “Not that much. But I can save up more.”
You think. Your gut tells you he won’t kill you after he gets what he wants, even though he could. And though you will always keep a close eye on him and everything he’s capable of, your gut feeling has never disappointed you.
So you sigh and shake your head. “That’s okay. I’ll do all of it for free, and you can pay me what little you have to insure that I stay quiet. Sound fair?”
His eyes narrow with a twinkle that you hadn’t expected from a man like him and he says, “Deal.”
“Alright,” you say and finish your coffee before clearing your throat. “First order of business: tell me your full name.”
He shakes his head with a faint smile, “James Buchanan Barnes.”
Oh shit.
You do know him.
Germany.
Relief seeps into your bones as you cross the threshold of your building and you slip into your routine of coming home. Tired feet drag you through your building and to your apartment, and muscle memory unlocks your door. After the week you’ve had, you are ready to turn off your brain and settle down.
You enjoy being this tired though, revel in it. Exhausting yourself with a normal person job and the way it puts your usually restless body to sleep at night is exactly what you wanted for your life.
One step into your own hallway, however, makes your daydream of a quiet night in crumble to your feet. Something is off. You can blame your trained senses for being so instantly on edge, but the apartment you just stepped into isn’t a place that has been vacated for the past nine hours. This apartment isn’t empty.
An even older routine settles into your bones this time and you creep into your home on light feet. The air is warm and the space is completely quiet. You’ve been alive long enough, seen enough, to know quiet is never good.
You don’t turn on any lights and let your eyes adjust to the dark. Ears perked and muscles at the ready to spring into action, you slowly make your way further into your home. And when you slip around the corner and look into your darkened living room, you let out a frustrated sigh at the dark figure lounging on your couch.
“How did you find me here,” you grumble and it is hardly a question.
You can feel him sit up and tune in to your presence. You couldn’t explain it if your life depended on it, but you instantly knew who it was. The dark figure in the dark apartment, waiting patiently for someone to catch him. After all, he will deny it until his dying day, but he does have an awful lot of dramatic flair for someone so stoic.
“Better question is: why are you here?” he counters and you drop your bag onto one of your dining chairs, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Trying to stay off the radar, are you?”
“And failing, clearly,” you say before he can say it for you. “How did you find me here, James?”
Your eyes are finally fully adjusted and you see the smirk forming on his face. You haven’t seen that smirk in five years. “I have my ways,” he says and pushes off the couch, adjusting his leather jacket. “Now, what are you doing in this abandoned town?”
“It’s not abandoned,” you counter and slip off your coat, deciding to just go about your old routine and ignore his presence as much as you can. Maybe then he’ll go away.
“It’s a shit town and you know it.” He cocks his head at you, eyes tracking all of your movements.
You notice his puzzled look. He’s genuinely wondering what is left of his old ally and you can’t quite blame him. Perhaps he can easily see your lame attempt at finding a normal life for yourself. He has probably tried a thousand times himself to escape the roaring life of saving the world, has probably failed every time, too. But you’re determined to make it work – make yourself normal and live a full life.
And that is all you were to him anyway, just an ally. The entire time, you’d felt that he paid a little too much attention to you, but you supplied critical information and occasionally wiped someone off the map. A spy. Nothing more, nothing less. However, for the infamous Winter Soldier to need your alliance again, you cannot help but feel wary.
After the first time he approached you, you’d spent months together. It was an effort not to grow too close – too much effort. Because you had. It was impossible not to, helping someone literally piece their life together through intimate and awful memories. Digging through protective walls and coping mechanisms to help him rebuild some of his life again. With a lot of reluctance from both of you.
Yes, you’d grown close then. Grown close enough that you fell asleep slumped over the kitchen counter in his awful Romanian apartment, your face sticking to the countless research papers. You’d woken up hours later on his poorly constructed bed on the floor with a blanket thrown over your frame. Close enough that you’d eventually asked him to assist you on your missions. Ones that required a different skillset than your own. Close enough that you cooked for each other, sometimes shared clothes, roasted one another for the mental health issues that lead you both to your current occupations.
After a while, you couldn’t describe your relation to Barnes in any other way than a partnership. Partners. Who had kissed once. Maybe twice. After some bad Vodka.
You sigh and turn to him, “Why are you here, James?”
“I need to lay low for a while.” A wider smirk, his eyes narrowing at you. “I remembered I know someone who is very good at that.”
“Careful,” you warn and roll your eyes. “You just gave me a compliment.”
His smirk turns to a smile and he shrugs off his own jacket, instantly making himself at home in your apartment. A strange thing when it comes to Bucky, since you don’t recall that man feeling at home anywhere. Then, he did always have this incessant cocky streak around you and he is awfully good at getting on your nerves, so he probably sees the perfect opportunity to be a pain in the ass.
“If you so much as sneeze on anything, I swear–”
“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts in, his tone unimpressed. “You’ll skin me alive. You’re always so weird about your stuff.”
You give him a tiny proud smile and decide to make yourself something quick to eat, only to feel him peer at you from the edge of your kitchen. He’s met with a confused frown before you raise your brows at him to make him spit it out.
“What’s the catch?” he asks warily.
You smile and look down at the sandwich you’re making. “Nothing. Just fix your shit and get out of my hair as quickly as possible.”
He winces slightly and you turn to him fully now, slowly taking a bite.
“What.”
Bucky sucks in a short breath and gives you an apologetic look before he speaks, “It might be a while…”
Your brows drop, “What did you do?”
“Nothing, I–”
“Bucky.” You cut him another look, one shaped by many, many instances of working together. “What. Did. You. Do.”
“It’s not important. I’ll make it quick, I promise.”
You open your mouth to continue arguing with him, but decide against it, already done with his shit. Yes, he is doing better and supposedly now qualifies as a good person. But you know the man before you and the soldier cannot stop himself from lying about pretty much everything. He has damaged tendencies. Give him an inch and he will take a mile, show him a weakness and he will exploit it. You genuinely think he doesn’t know how to be different, how to not abuse those effortless skills he trained all those years working for Hydra and surviving it.
“It’s my weekend off,” you tell him instead. “If you get between me and my plans, I will change the locks.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “You think I can’t get through a simple lock?”
Another glare is his answer and he raises his hands in surrender. You walk around him and toe off your own shoes, grabbing everything to take a shower as you shove the rest of your sandwich in your mouth. Bucky slowly strolls through your place and examines everything that belongs to you.
“Can you not pretend like you haven’t completely scanned the place already before I got home?” you ask him as you make way for the bathroom.
“It can’t hurt to have a second look,” he mumbles, but you have already closed the door and move take the shower you’ve been looking forward to the entire day.
You should probably work harder to get him out, should probably make an escape plan and move somewhere else. But you know arguing with him is futile and the best approach with him is to patiently wait for him to move on. Bucky doesn’t get attached and doesn’t nest, so he’ll be gone soon enough.
As the scolding water trickles down your scalp and spine, you realise how much more alert you should have been when you noticed someone was in your home. Especially with all of those loose ends and enemies you have scattered across this planet (and others). Yet, somehow you think your body knew it was Bucky waiting for you. After all, it isn’t the first time he’s pulled this shit, waiting up for you. Usually because you kept something from him, he found out and would start ambushing you to fess up.
And even though technically, you haven’t exactly kept anything from him this time, you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that explaining your current situation will be the hardest thing to ever speak up about. How pathetic, to try and live a normal life when you’re ‘extraordinary’. Ugh, you hate that word. You’re trained well and you refuse to be anything but good at what you put your mind at.
Now, Bucky. He is extraordinary. He has potential to make a difference. You have always felt that. Hated working with him because of that. Not because of him – he never made you feel less than him at all. But–
The water turns cold and you groan audibly, time having slipped away from you as you got lost in thought. Stepping out and drying yourself off, you get ready to walk out of the bathroom. You’re met with Bucky sitting on your couch, reading one of your books.
“Let me guess, warm water’s gone?” he asks, not looking up from the book.
You walk to your bedroom and shrug, “Cold showers are good for you, I heard.”
“I suppose I’ll take the couch then?” he asks, finally looking up from the book.
You turn back and peek through your doorway at him. “You can take the floor if that’s more comfortable for you.”
“We’ve shared a bed before.”
“Not by choice.”
He smirks, “You liked it.”
“You snore.”
“Sleep tight, sweetheart.” He grins at you.
You make to get to bed when you pause and turn back to him once more with a slight frown. “Why are you so cheerful? Aren’t there people after you?”
“Well,” he says, casual as always, “these may very well be my last days, so I might as well be in a good mood.”
You find yourself swallowing hard and desperately search his face for any intel on how true his statement is, without giving away that you might just care a little bit about his well-being. But his grin stays firm in place and he raises his brows in wait for you to call it a night.
Without another word, you close the door between you and crawl into your comfortable bed. And you wonder why it is that you can’t quite get comfortable this time.
A powerful jolt rips through your body as you lift out of layers of sleep. You’re too tired for whatever made you wake up so suddenly. It’s too goddamn late for this shit.
But as you gain more and more of your consciousness, your senses start perking up and you realise you might very well be in danger. The gentle and calm voice calling your name with a warm stroke of a hand down your arm, confirms that for you. That specific type of calm in Bucky’s voice sends your body into overdrive.
“We’ve got to go, sweetheart,” he murmurs and is already throwing clothes onto your bed. “Now.”
You sit up and rub your eyes and it dawns on you after a week of Bucky staying at your place. This man wasn’t going to leave you until he got chased out of your apartment. And that day has come.
“Bucky,” you start with a hoarse voice as you climb out of your warm bed and quickly throw on the clothes he picked for you, “who the fuck is after you?”
He takes his time to answer, pulling two fully packed backpacks from the corner of your room that you surprisingly didn’t know he hid there. Oh, this man is going to get an ear full about this bullshit.
“Some weird underground cartel that deals in tech or something,” he grumbles and throws you a pack. You are nearly too slow to catch it before you sling it onto your back. You gape at him after his answer and his face stays solemn as he pushes a hand gun into your hands. “Let’s go.”
“Bucky.”
He stops and turns to you fully. “It’s bad, okay? I’ll tell you later.”
“No. Tell me now.”
He groans out your name, peeking outside while he impatiently chews on his lip. “Don’t do this right now. You can be pissed at me later!”
“I will be pissed at you now,” you seethe, “and later. How about that?!”
He sighs and then grabs your arm, giving you a boyish grin before shooting two bullets through your window, breaking the glass, slinging an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him and jumping out of the fucking window with you clinging to him. It’s only when you fly about five stories down, that you realise the two of you are attached to a bungee rope that eases your descent. His feet touch the ground first, yours following. He cuts the rope and grabs your hand before he starts running towards the parking lot beneath your building.
“Bucky, you piece of shit!” you yell at him as you run, hearing the faint sound of gun fire behind you over the sound of your ragged breathing.
“I’ll make it up to you!” he simply yells back.
You can hear the smile in his voice. And the worst thing? You feel yourself smiling as well when you realise how easily you’ve slipped back into being his partner in crime.
Bucky checks one more time, his gleaming metal hand pulling the sheer curtain aside to peer out onto the dark streets. You hear some shouting coming from outside and still feel your heart pounding, even when you know you have definitely outrun those people coming after you. You hate how out of practice you are. And how much you missed the adrenaline of being on the run with Bucky.
He turns back to you and finds you with your arms crossed, glaring at him. Oh, you know the perfect way to let out this adrenaline. There might be actual steam coming out of your ears.
Bucky cringes and slowly strolls over, already reaching out his hands to use his irresistible charm on you. Like the time he dropped the cake you made one afternoon and tried to make it up to you. Or that time he left some very important documents in one of the buildings he set on fire. Or the time he accidentally deleted your recordings off the TV when you had been looking forward to watching the next episode for two weeks.
However, your burning eyes stop him dead in his tracks and he opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it and closes his mouth again. A second later, he tries again, “Okay. Give it to me.”
You give him a satisfied, albeit sadistic smile, at his willingness to take your scolding and then, you start yelling. You have no idea what words specifically are rolling off your tongue, but your speech starts somewhere during that first meeting in Bucharest, drifts to your entire time together as partners, how you drifted apart, only for him to show up whenever he pleased, and you continue to how he stood at your door a little over a week ago, to him terrorising your happy little life in Germany… To now.
Your voice rises with every instance you tell him about, fire burning in your core and hands flailing to give your story that much more power (even though you couldn’t stop your conviction if you tried). As the grin on his face grows through your rambling, a metal hand pressing to his lips to stop it from showing too much, you burn even brighter with fury.
Then you stop, breathing heavily. You give him a withering look to get him to start speaking up, because let’s be honest, all the two of you really needed was only just a look.
His shoulders slowly stop shaking and he drops his hand, eyes sparkling like a glass of Prosecco in the light. Devious asshole. “I just– I haven’t seen you this alive in a while. It looks fantastic on you.”
You gape at him like a fish and you wonder if the warmth in your face still belongs to your anger. Though you fear it belongs to quite the opposite. Either way, this man certainly knows how to make you passionate. And you realise he knows what you have been trying to do with your fake little life here in Germany.
“I don’t think you–”
“I’m sorry,” he says and steps forward, his large hands cupping your face as he looks down at you with earnest eyes. “I’m sorry for making your life so goddamn miserable. So tell me how to make it up to you.”
And for all the world, you can tell he means it. Can tell that he will do anything to make it up to you. You can almost feel the squeeze of pain in your own heart when you see the disappointment in his eyes after he realises you didn’t enjoy this as much as he had.
But the worst part is, is that you did. You’ve never felt more alive than with him. Never felt more like you. You wouldn’t necessarily call him an adventurer, maybe he is just a magnet for trouble. But whenever you’re with Bucky, you’ll drop anything for him and you’ll burn like an inferno doing so. He makes you into the best version of yourself and he makes you love the parts about yourself that you have been conditioned to feel guilty about.
You sigh, “I don’t know. Never mind.”
He doesn’t let go though and searches your eyes, his own narrowing in suspicion. “I’m going to make it up to you, you know.”
You cross your arms and give him an unimpressed look. “Yeah? How?”
He smirks and your knees weaken. “I could kiss it better.”
“Shameless flirt,” you huff and roll your eyes as an excuse to break his intense stare on you.
“You’re just too proud to admit that my kisses would make you forgive me,” he prods and your eyes snap back to his. He’s right, that is pride surging in your chest to lunge at him.
“You’ve grown too cocky for your own good,” you sneer at him.
“You like it.”
“I assure you, I don’t.”
“Liar.”
“Manipulator.”
He feigns hurt, “Ouch.”
You huff a laugh with a roll of your eyes, “Such a fragile ego.”
He smirks again and you swallow as you fight to look at his lips. So close to your own. “Now you have to kiss me for forgiveness.”
You can’t help but truly laugh this time, your face still safely tucked in his palms and his brows raise with intrigue at the sound of your laughter.
You tell him, “You are so full of shit.”
His smile fades, his eyes large with earnest and all of a sudden, it’s the man standing before you that sat next to you in that Romanian café. Stripped down, bare, rough, and perhaps a bit vulnerable.
“Let me kiss you,” he says in merely a whisper now.
You fight for your life not to falter to that genuine request and the way he said it. “It won’t make me forgive you,” you say softly, but barely hear your own voice over the increased pounding of your heart in your throat.
“I don’t care,” he murmurs. “Just want to kiss you.”
He doesn’t wait for your permission either, because quite frankly, you most likely gave him a look of permission instantly at that request. His soft lips slot over yours and you could’ve never predicted the depraved moan that resounded in the back of your throat as your mouths meet. Your hands instantly slip into his hair as Bucky’s hands slide around your waist to pull you closer, fingers digging into your flesh possessively.
The kiss deepens when his tongue meets yours and he lets out a groan of his own, a sound so addicting that you instinctively tug on his hair to hear it again. The laugh against your lips is rough as he hauls you closer and changes the kiss. Something more desperate and impatient. Something hot and sweaty and slightly messy. You might be walking as Bucky finds something to press you up against or lay you down on, and you almost squawk in surprise as you fall back onto the double, motel bed.
Though before you can say anything else, Bucky is on you again, his mouth demanding and greedy against yours. His hands feel and grab and squeeze every inch of you and you grind your hips upward for his weight. You want his heaviness between your hips and on your stomach and against your chest.
Growing impatient, convinced that Bucky’s brain might no longer be working, you lock your ankles around his hips and pull him down between your legs, sighing a groan of relief at the feeling of him tucked against you so warmly.
“God dammit,” he grunts and gives one luxurious roll of his hips against yours, making you whine as your pulse hammers down in your core.
His mouth grazes against your neck now and you can hardly breathe, panting as if you’ve run a marathon. The pressure between your hips leaves as he moves further down and you buck your hips at the ache he leaves.
“Bucky,” you whimper and look down, heart slamming in your throat at the sight of him. He messily yet gently makes his way down your body. Hands roughly pushing up your shirt as his lips find the plane of your stomach, kissing from your bra, down to your hips that you can’t seem to keep still.
Your body feels so heavy, yet so light without him on top of you and you can’t remember any moment before this kiss. Before five minutes ago. Everything is solidified. Your entire history with him. And Bucky presses a kiss just below your navel that confirms that feeling, his hands peeling off your jeans. That is until he speaks.
“Listen to me,” he orders and you freeze at the sound of him. He’s only sounded like that during missions where either of you might die. So serious and detrimental. “Don’t ever try to build a life without me again.”
“Bucky–”
“No,” he snaps and you close your mouth. “Don’t ever pretend like we don’t exist. Like you and I aren’t supposed to do this shit together, like you are better off without me, like I am better off without you. That’s bullshit.” You give him a questioning look. Where is this coming from? “I’m going to kiss you and you are going to forgive me. And then I am going to kiss you some more.”
He waits then. For you to answer, to process what it is he is saying exactly. It’s a lot of words with a lot of meaning, yet you’re not sure if this is the declaration you didn’t know you were waiting for.
So you speak from your gut and let out a breath, “Finally.”
Bucky smiles at that and surges upward, clearly happy with that intuitive answer. His lips claim yours once again and then you feel his fingers inching up your thigh.
You whine softly against his lips and you feel him smile as his fingers reach your drenched core. Two fingers slip through your folds to explore your wetness and Bucky drops his head into the crook of you neck.
“Finally indeed,” he breathes and slips his middle finger into you, making you whimper and buck your hips.
The stretch against your swollen walls sends an ache through your abdomen that cries out for more. You cannot explain the desperation to have him, to have every empty pit of you filled with his essence. His finger curls up and you throw your head back, making Bucky raise his own head to look at you.
“There?”
You nod frantically and Bucky pushes in another finger, making you tense up around him. He curls that one too and you don’t recognise the sound spilling from your lips. You’re already so fucking full.
As Bucky teasingly darts his thumb over your swollen clit, he traces his tongue over your mouth and you gasp for air at the sensation.
“Bucky, fuck!” you cry and he pushes his mouth to yours in a claiming kiss, his fingers moving faster as his thumb rotates over your clit. You can barely kiss him back, overtaken by pleasure as he pumps his fingers over and over until you can hear your wetness surround his sinful fingers.
It is by far the hottest thing you have ever experienced. So much time has passed and now this beast of a man who tries everything to make you blush with his flirty persona, is bent over you with his fingers peeling your pleasure to the surface like his own fucking release depends on it.
His chest is heaving from watching you, brows pulled together, eyes dark as they rake over you hungrily, muscles flexing as his hand disappears between your legs.
His leg slips beneath your knee and pulls your leg up to finger you in a different angle and your nails bury themselves in the muscles of Bucky’s neck, abdomen flexing at the wave of pleasure that courses through you. “More. Oh my God, more!”
“I know, I can feel it,” he grunts and slows his fingers. “But I’ve waited ages for this. I refuse to let it be over so soon.”
Your brain is nothing but cinders and you shake your head violently, “No! No, please. You can have everything, just let me come. Please.”
Bucky pecks your lips. Once. Twice.
“You want to come all over my hand, pretty girl?” he murmurs in your ear and you can only gasp at the press of his fingers against your spot. “Can I lick you up after?”
You clench around him like a vice, his low voice making you drip onto his palm, his words incinerating what is left of your pride. You can only nod, so you do. And his hand starts moving again. Faster, deeper, more thorough. You keep nodding, your moans raising, your pleasure retreating like a snake ready to strike. Oh God, oh God, oh God–
“Come.”
Your hips fly to the ceiling when you come, thighs trembling and closing around his hand. Bucky keeps moving and thrusting and curling until he has wrung all of your pleasure from your body and you feel like you’re made of jelly. Your voice is hoarse from yelling your release and the sheets below are drenched with your desire.
Soft kisses are pressed to your face and that is how you return from whatever plane of existence you went to. His gentle laugh makes you shiver and you open your eyes to find him licking his fingers like there is caramel dripping from them. You swallow hard and zero in on that action, making his eyes sparkle.
But something changes when you reach up to stroke his hair and his eyes flutter. Your eyes rove over his face in admiration and your entire soul sighs at the sight of him. Bucky looks down at you curiously and cocks his head.
“What is it?” he asks and you chew your lip, trying to find the words.
“You and me, huh?” you murmur with something like wonder in your voice. Bucky can only nod. You continue, “Who would’ve thought…”
Bucky leans down and kisses you. Soft, slow, deep. It makes your body sing. And he shuffles back to make himself at home between your legs. Though as he does that, he remains his focus on kissing you. Deeper, more, desperate. Depraved. He moans and breathes and you swear you hear him whimper, his hips grinding over your oversensitive cunt as he gets lost in kissing you.
Raking your nails over his scalp, you once again wrap your legs around his hips and pull him down. And if Bucky hadn’t snapped his leash just yet, this does it. He turns wild and passionate and heavy. One hand of his and one hand of your own both reach down, messily working together to get rid of his jeans. He shimmies out of them, not bothering to get rid of them entirely, but bothering to at least take off his shirt.
Your fingers drag down his pecks and abdomen, trying to memorise every curve and edge with what little brain capacity you have left. You feel like no more than a flame, no more than passion and want and need. And when Bucky slides his bare cock through your folds to slicken himself, you shudder so violently, your breath shudders with it.
“Woman, you are going to kill me,” he breathes and nips at your lips.
You almost growl with impatience, “Then fuck me and die already.”
He laughs, bold and happy, before thrusting into you in a long stroke. Home. Oh fuck, he’s home. Both of you freeze, taking in the moment of being fused together before he slowly pulls out and out and out. And sliding back in with an agonizing thrust.
Something in you clicks. Something so vital, so necessary. And Bucky feels it too.
“Yes,” he groans and presses another kiss to your lips, like he can’t get enough. “This is it.”
You nod and close your eyes in pleasure. In relief. You shudder with emotion and clamp onto him. Bucky keeps pressing kisses to your skin. Your neck, your lips, your cheek, temple, forehead.
“This is it,” you choke out and Bucky smiles. “You’re it.”
Bucky breathes a sigh, as if he’s been waiting ages for you to admit it. “Finally.”
Infinity War.
Biting your lip and bouncing your leg, you try to let the rumble of the swift jet calm your nerves. Your eyes search the cabin and go over the confusing screens for the thousandth time.
“Nervous?” Natasha’s sensual voice sounds next to you and you force a smile.
“Why would I be nervous?” you ask and smirk at her. “We’re only stepping into a war with the probability of us winning being like…” Zero? Less than zero? You sigh, “I don’t want to think about that.”
She bites back her own smirk and raises her eyebrows. “Wasn’t talking about the war. Are you nervous about seeing him?”
Bucky.
You glare at her after quickly glancing around to see if anyone heard her, making Natasha try even harder to hold back a smile.
Yes, you were nervous to see him. So much had happened. So many aspects of your spy work had suddenly intermingled and now you are fighting along with the Avengers. Even after you were sure they had torn themselves apart over Bucky. Being caught in the middle of that had put you and Bucky’s relationship –if you could even call it that– so far to the back of both your minds, you barely had time to mention it to anyone until Steve shipped him off to Wakanda to get some real help.
You and Bucky were over before it even started and you think that maybe it’s for the better. Neither you nor Bucky are any good at that relationship shit anyway. It showed over and over.
Luckily enough, you’d found plenty of distraction being on the run with Sam, Natasha and Steve. No Bucky in sight, but knowing he was safe and taken care of. Private mission after mission with other people you cared about, people who didn’t know about you and Bucky, one of them eager to forget about Bucky himself.
You barely gave it any thought.
Except you thought of Bucky every day.
And now you get to see him again. However, if any time would make you reconsider any commitment at all, it would be now.
“No,” you answer and then turn serious. “I mean, I was. But now I’m just preparing myself for either grief, or death.”
“Are those our only options?” she asks with a displeased frown. “Why not prepare for victory or somethin’?”
Giving her a long and hard stare, you sigh deeply. “Yeah. You’re right. If I die, I might as well die hopeful.”
“That’s my girl,” she grins and you bump her shoulder with yours, finding your own smile breaking through.
That’s when Steve gives Sam the coordinates to fly through a barrier and show you the hidden – and beautiful – kingdom of Wakanda. So you ignore every jittery feeling you have in your stomach at possibly seeing Barnes again, and you channel it all into hope.
Natasha strokes her hand over your shoulder as you walk up to king T’Challa, who’s flanked by his closest guard and a palace that screams to get you on your knees to worship. You barely hear the conversation the king has with Steve, partly because you’re still in awe of the beautiful place around you.
Now this, this is a refuge.
“How are we lookin’?” Natasha asks from next to you and that’s when you start to pay attention. You’d need a hell of a lot of man-power to win this.
“You will have my Kings Guard,” T’Challa starts, “the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and…”
“A semi-stable hundred-year-old man,” finishes a voice that makes your entire system dysregulate. Oh God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard the warm timber of that voice.
You notice your hands have started shaking and clutch them behind your back, squeezing courage out of them to face your past, as Bucky Barnes walks up to hug Captain America.
“How’ve you been, Buck?” Steve asks and Bucky answers with a heart-stopping smile.
“Uh, not bad,” he answers, “for the end of the world.”
They share another warm look before Steve turns to everyone behind him and then to the king, “Should we prepare?”
A few minutes later, you’re following the king inside with all of his closest guards and your own team, which now includes Bucky. Focusing your eyes on everything around you, you barely notice the large hand slipping around your elbow and pulling you into another hallway.
You know better than to scream for help and you use the momentum to swing the person around and pin them to the nearest wall with a knife to their throat. But the air rushes from you when you stand face to face with Bucky.
“There she is,” he grins and slowly raises his hands in surrender.
You back away slowly and look at him like a gaping fish, your insides pounding and swirling and thrashing as your body heats with adrenaline. It’s him, it’s him, it’s him.
“New arm?” you ask him, your voice coming out surprisingly steady, and he glances at the appendage, flexing his hand between your faces.
“Yeah, you like it?” he asks and he almost sounds like a young boy, genuinely interested in what you think of it, of him.
And you calm. Everything inside of you settles and the heat turns to warmth. Your insides seem to melt with relief and you throw your arms around his neck, almost tipping over until Bucky’s arms automatically slide around your waist to pull your pliant body tightly against his. He’s so big and strong and warm.
“I’ll take that as a yes?” he laughs softly and one hand starts to stroke your hair gently as you huff out a sob into his neck. “Oh, sweet girl. You’ve never been sad to see me before.”
You finally pull back and cup his face as he lets you survey him closely, him grinning widely at the worry in your every feature. You breathe, “You’re good. You’re safe.”
He nods and takes your hands, pressing a kiss to your palm. “So are you,” he whispers and you nod.
“Not for long,” you add, deflated.
He gives you a sad smile. “Now, who would we be if we didn’t go down fighting, hm?”
You smile slightly at that. “Back on the same team.”
He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and the planet stops turning.
“Finally.”
The Blip.
Another knock sounds and you roll your eyes, throwing on a quick cardigan as you hop over to your door. Unusual, for your quiet, lonely evenings to get interrupted like this. You’re ready to cash in what you can only assume is some complaining neighbour or your awful land lord when you open the door and are met with a familiar face that makes your heart squeeze together.
“Steve,” you breathe.
“Hey.”
You step aside to let him in and take a deep breath.
“Want something to drink?” you ask as you close the door behind him and let him venture into your home. Or, whatever you have tried to turn into your home. It had never been more than the latest home trends and some empty picture frames.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I found you?” he asks and you get a feeling of déjà vu.
But you shake your head with a forced smile, “I left a trace for Natasha to track for emergencies. I know how you found me.” You give him a pointed look and Steve actually has the decency to look slightly apologetic.
That look tells you enough about how much of an emergency this is and you wonder what prompted Natasha to decipher your code and hand your location to the Captain. Maybe he was the one breaking and could use a familiar face. Maybe something turned him awfully worried about you. Maybe-
No.
“Aren’t you mad that Natasha told me?” he asks unsurely and you give him a tight-lipped smile, taking a seat in one of your dining table chairs and ushering for him to do so as well.
“Would you believe me if I said that it’s actually quite nice to see a familiar face after five pretty lonely years?” you refute and he gives you a warm smile.
“It’s good to see you, too, Kid.”
A comfortable silence settles between you two and you fidget with your hands, staring at them intently before raising your face back to Steve. “Why are you here, Cap?”
He lets out a long sigh. “Ever since the Blip,” he starts and you can feel him debating whether to continue, “I never– I didn’t get to tell you how sorry I am about Bucky.”
You freeze and slowly turn your gaze to him. “Okay. Now I am pissed at her.”
“Natasha didn’t tell me,” he quickly assures and you raise a brow at him. “He did.”
You fall quiet at that. “Bucky told you about…”
“What,” he laughs. “Didn’t think you two were serious enough for him to tell his best friend about it?”
You reply with a humourless laugh of your own. “He um– He wasn’t a very committing guy. And I don’t blame him. Why commit to something if you might lose everything all over again?”
The pity in Steve’s gaze feels burning to your skin. “Well, if you’re that scared of losing something, it might be worth committing to,” he says and you find yourself agreeing with the wise bastard.
“Well, I committed and look where I am now,” you huff. “Turns out, he was right all along.”
“Kid–”
“Why are you here, Cap?” you try again, all of a sudden too eager to get rid of him.
It takes a while for him to answer and dread settles low in your belly. When he starts talking, you’ve already started shaking your head. “We have found a way to bring them all back.”
You still. And you stay like that. Seconds. Minutes. Maybe another five years have passed.
“Did you hear what I said?” he tries.
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. We figured out a way. Time travel.”
You bark a laugh and give him a pointed glare. However, your vision is already slightly impaired by the tears pooling at your waterline. “Don’t,” you stop him before he continues elaborating. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this in the past five years? That you, or Nat, or even Tony fucking Stark himself would stand at my door and tell me we figured it out? About a million times, Cap. And the more normal this delusional scenario became in my head, the more absurd it seemed to be. And now, you expect me to just believe that nearly five years on the dot, you have figured out a way to return everything to normal?!”
Steve can take it, the sudden outburst of your disbelief. He has definitely encountered a whole lot more scepticism in his life. But his heart breaks a little for you. Bucky had tried to be so casual when he finally told Steve about you, but Steve had caught the sparkle in those hundred-year-old eyes and he couldn’t describe the relief of Bucky having found someone, let alone you.
But now, to see you so far removed from Bucky – from hope. He hates it.
“I waited,” he almost whispers. “Until I was completely sure. We need you for this.”
You blink away your tears and one rolls down your cheek. Steve quickly reaches to catch it and cups your face. A touch normally so very unwelcome, but now you cannot help but bury your face in his palm.
“You’re sure?” you ask, voice breaking.
Steve pulls you in and up to his chest, engulfing you in a tight hug. “Time to bring our best friend back, Kid.”
Time Travel.
You cannot help but smile when you see the handsome brainiac hunched over a laptop near some high-tech stage that you can’t seem to look at too long without talking yourself out of this.
“Hey, Tony,” you say quietly as you walk up and his brown eyes light up when he hears your voice. Stepping away from the screen, he opens his arms wide and pulls you into a tight hug. Another comfortable embrace that you can only breathe in and cherish.
“My favourite spy,” he murmurs and pulls back.
“How are you doing?” you ask him.
He gives you a knowing look. “Oh, you know. Good. Until he showed up,” he sneers with a pointed look at Steve, who simply rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.
“Yeah,” you sigh, “he has a way of interrupting peace.”
Tony snorts. “Now that, is what I call a paradox.”
You laugh and pat his shoulder, “Pepper and Morgan?”
“They’re wonderful.” He grins, but you can see the fear shining in his eyes and you give his shoulder a firm squeeze.
“Thank you for doing this, Tony.”
He smirks in answer. “I swear, if you and Barnes don’t openly kiss after all I am about to sacrifice, I will find the stones and undo both of your existences.”
You shoot a thunderous glare to Steve, and to Natasha who is walking up behind the Captain. But Tony stops you before you can scold them on their horrible secret-keeping skills, “Pepper told me.”
You grit your teeth.
The Avengers are a bunch of gossips.
The Endgame.
You stumble backward, your sprained ankle and broken ribs somehow only a faint ache over the sight before you. You almost trip over debris, or a body, or just air and you keep blinking to see better or to make it all go away, you don’t know.
He did it. Tony did it. You’re sure you can still feel the snap of his fingers vibrate through your spine. And there he is. Slumped against more debris, half of his face cracked like burnt coal, his suit barely reflecting its original colours. The blue light at the centre of his chest is fading, shuttering and then… it goes dark. With Pepper’s hand over it.
Your own hand barely muffles the sob trying to break through and you stumble over and over again as you back away from that horrible, awful reality. He did it. But at what cost?
You turn around and start jogging. How? You’re not sure. Your body is in no state to hurry. But it’s incomplete. You were barely strong or extraordinary enough to be of any help during the fight, but you tried your best. Helping people in the field, some war medic patching up gushing wounds. You’d cashed some punches and kicks yourself. Dealt them, too.
It was all because you needed to be there. Because you needed to stay alive. Needed to stick around to see him again. And now… Now… You barely survived this, barely made it through. And Tony died. Tony Stark. The chance of him still being out there-
You start running faster. Hobbling and grunting from the pain.
“Bucky,” you voice is raw and frantic, it’s barely a sound as you cry out for him. “Bucky! Bucky!”
Head swinging from side to side, you hope the soldier reveals himself from behind one of the plumes of smoke. Further and further away, you flee from the horrifying scene of whatever is left after Thanos. You need to find him, but you can’t identify anything on this war ground.
If he’s dead. If Bucky is dead–
Your head whips around so fast, your neck might crack, when you’re sure you hear your name. Everything about you goes quiet and you hold your breath like it will make any difference. Slowly, you walk in the direction where you assume the sound came from, but you almost cringe at the idea that you might just be going insane. After all those explosions, your hearing can’t possibly be this sharp.
Though perhaps intuition is at play here, because you’ve always been able to feel him. Always knew it when it was him waiting up for you, or looking for you, or needing you.
“Bucky,” you croak again.
“Here…” It’s so quiet. But you hear it over everything else and follow the echo of the sound.
“Bucky,” you rasp out. “I’m coming!”
And there he is. On hands and knees, struggling to get up. You can only describe your approach as a dive, as you clash onto your wobbly knees and wrap your arms around him. His body instantly stops struggling and falls into your rib cage.
He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.
“Yeah,” he groans. “’M right here.”
You had no idea you were sobbing it to him, but you don’t care as your hands grapple for a better hold of him. He does the same until both of you are kneeling in front of each other, cupping each others’ faces to check for injuries.
“You look pretty all roughed up,” he mutters and you smile through your tears.
“You look awful,” you reply and he chuckles before pulling you into his chest. “But you’re home.”
He shudders and you might actually hear him let out a sob of his own as he tightens his grip on you.
“Finally.”
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temeyes · 3 months
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I've been waiting for an excuse to tell you why Croissant is called Croissant for SO LONG
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ghost-proofbaby · 8 months
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SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)
two years ago, eddie munson got everything he’d ever wanted - except you. when fate brings the two of you back together, can he get the answers to all the questions you left him with?
☆ tropes: second chance romance, exes to lovers, modern au
☆ warnings: strong language, angst, alcohol/drug consumption, eventual smut, minors dni
☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
spotify playlist
ao3
MASTERLIST:
PROLOGUE (the original 'one shot')*
CHAPTER ONE: CLOSURE
CHAPTER TWO: DON’T YOU
CHAPTER THREE: ALL TOO WELL
CHAPTER FOUR: CASTLES CRUMBLING
CHAPTER FIVE: HOLY GROUND
CHAPTER SIX: IS IT OVER NOW?
CHAPTER SEVEN: QUESTION...?
CHAPTER EIGHT: LOML*
more coming soon!
chapters with smut/sexual themes marked with *
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spideypoolsupremacy · 5 months
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(Asking as someone who can't stop cringing at my attempts of smut and will probably never write it)
Also kissing doesn't count as smut. You can argue about it BUT IT'S NOT
Also ALSO I know the answer might depend on the fandom u are reading so let's just answer in general alrighty
Reblog for larger sample size blah blah blah (but like really plz)
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canisalbus · 28 days
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you mentioned your nsfw twitter is locked (i dont really use twitter) does that mean its private for only ppl you know or like to verify 18+?
It means you can't view the posts before you've sent a follow request and I've manually accepted it.
The bar is low, I usually just take a cursory glance at your bio to check you're not underage or giving me Major Bad Vibes.
I know it's the internet and I can't expect to fully control who gets to see this stuff, but I like to think it at least keeps it somewhat contained from spilling outside of it's intended audience.
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kentopedia · 7 months
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eek ! ! ! i am very excited to announce the upcoming productions for this season at the theatre of vampires!! dates are listed if you wanna grab a ticket (and maybe a bite before the show) . . .
please note that if you attend, the theatre is not responsible for any blood loss or death !! warnings will be posted with each show, so please be sure to read them before engaging in dark content! anyone under eighteen will not be allowed entry into the theatre.
⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ this is everything we have planned for now, as it will hopefully be a feasible amount for our busy season !! lmk if you'd like to book a ticket in advance & i'll give you a tag on that piece !!
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october 1 - his parliament's on fire ♰ port mafia boss / night club owner dazai . . . every man in yokohama has a long list of crimes they'd commit to be with you, but none quite as long as dazai's.
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october 6 - pain reliever ♰ vampire yuuta . . . your vampire boyfriend can't resist the taste of you during a certain time of the month
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october 10 - skipping heartbeats ♰ curse user nanami . . . nanami wants to see every jujutsu sorcerer dead, but he might make an exception just for you
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october 13 - sweet serial killer ♰ serial killer chuuya . . . chuuya's always in such a rush to get home to you, so he can't really be blamed if he misses a few drops of blood on his clothes.
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october 17 - sent to destroy ♰ fallen angel dazai . . . he promises he's not the devil, but he steals your soul with just a kiss.
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october 21 - cold embrace - ON HOLD !! ♰ ghost fyodor . . . he's spent two hundred years murdering whoever moves into his home, but he can't remember a time they were ever as pretty as you.
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october 27 - bleeding me dry ♰ vampire dazai . . . it's been decades since you've last seen dazai; your lover and your maker. now that you're finally happy, he's haunting you again with a thousand buried memories.
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october 31 - to be revealed later ♰ nanami . . . super special fic that i'm not sure will be finished by halloween, but i want to write it eventually, so it'll be my little secret for now !
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⤷ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !!
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dumplingsjinson · 1 year
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List of smut prompts
“So how do you want me to fuck you?”
“I’m not sharing you with anybody. You’re mine, and mine only, and I’m going to make you remember that.”
“That’s sweet and all but do they touch you the way I touch you? Fuck you the way I fuck you? Mm, yeah, didn’t think so.”
A softly spoken, “Want you to fuck me like you mean it.” 
“Let me take care of you, yeah? I’ll do the work.”
“Gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.”
“Can I… can I touch you?”
“My God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.” 
“Can I— can I please touch myself?”
“Wanna see how you look when you come undone under me.” 
“I’ll make you feel good, I promise. Just trust me.”
“You sound/taste/feel/look so fucking good.”
“Oh God, you feel amazing, baby.” 
A whispered “Please” slipping out of kiss bitten lips. 
“Mine. All mine.”
“You drive me so insane, you don’t even know.”
“I love getting to know you like this.” 
“You. Me. Bed. Clothes off. Now.” 
“Is this okay?” 
“How much do you want this?”
“Doing so good for me, sweetheart.” 
“Shh, just a little more…” 
“You’re taking me so well, baby.”
“Say please.” 
“I want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you.”
“Tell me how you want me.”
Soft whines and whimpers; held back noises because they don’t want anyone else hearing them; a plea for more without the use of words. 
“Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now.” 
“Wanna hear you beg for it, yeah?”  
“Where do you want me to touch you?” “I don’t know and I don’t care — I just want your hands on me. Please.”
“P-please just”—a sob—“I just need you to fuck me.” 
“Need/want you in me.”
“Beg and maybe I’ll think about it.”
“Not so fast, bun.” 
“So… You touch yourself to the thought of me? I’d like to see that in action.”  
“Want your fingers in me.” 
“Now, why don’t we teach you a lesson?” 
“Touch yourself for me.”
“Tell me how you like/want/need it.” 
“I wanna taste you on my lips again.”
It’s the gentle and soft touches which send shivers skittering down their spine. 
“Rough or gentle?” 
“Fuck, look at you right now…”
“You’re really messing with my head here.”
“Fuck, just touch me already! Just— just do something!” “Not so fast. We’ve still got the whole night/day ahead of us.”
“Wanna feel you against me.”
“Don’t wanna come until I feel you in me.”
“Clothes on or clothes off?” 
“All yours. Only yours.”
“How about we put that pretty mouth of yours into good use, hm?” 
“Fuck, I need/want you so bad.”
“I want you to say my name like that again.” 
“Aren’t you desperate?” 
“Only I get to ruin you like this, you hear me?”
“Only I get to touch you like this, okay?” 
“Patience, love. We’re getting there.” 
“Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only for me.”
“Be good for me.” 
“You want to come?” “Y-yes, I— please—” “Hm, but do you really deserve to?” 
“You like that, don’t you?” 
“Let’s make your thoughts a reality, yeah?”
“Imagine how amazing you’d sound when I’m fucking you senseless.” 
“I’ll fuck you so good, I promise.” 
“I can taste myself on your lips and it’s messing me up real bad.” 
“You look like a mess and I love it, because I’m the one who made you like this.” 
“You’ve got me all hot and bothered.”
“You don’t get to touch yourself until I say so.” 
“Always so needy for me, aren’t you? Can’t help yourself, can you?” 
“Please let me come.” 
“I-I promise I’ll be good.” 
“How are you feeling?” 
“God, you feel so good around me.” 
“So wet/hard for me already, huh?”
“You good?”
“Mm, always so impatient for me, aren’t you?”
“Do I turn you on that much?” “You don’t even fucking know.” 
“You wanna take control?”
“Let me ride you.”
“Behave.” 
“F-Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep doing that.” 
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone more.” 
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Stop fucking teasing me and get to it already.” 
“Oh, the things I’d do to you if we were alone right now…”
“Th-There are people outside this door—” “Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” 
“Look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. Can’t even take a little teasing, can you?”
“Yeah, but they don’t fuck you the way you deserved to be fucked, do they?” 
“Might I remind you that these walls aren’t sound proof.” 
A softly exhaled, “I don’t think I can ever get enough of you.” 
“Do you know how much I love seeing you like this?” 
“How do you want me to touch you?” 
“Let me show you how much I mean what I say.”
“Gonna make sure you don’t forget about tonight.” 
Whispered praises against the other’s lips, which are met with soft whimpers and moans. 
“Need me to remind you on what happened last night?” 
“Oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?” 
In a hoarse whisper, “Fuck, you’re killing me here.” 
“But you think about me when they’re fucking you, don’t you?” “I… That’s not true.” 
“Try not to be so noisy, yeah?” 
“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” 
“Lift your hips up for me.”
“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re bossy.”
“Look at you, coming undone before I’ve even started touching you.” 
“Stop glaring at me like you don’t enjoy me teasing you.”
“I want to be the one fucking you this time.” 
“Sweetheart, you’re so responsive to my touch.”
“I think you’d look even better under me.” 
“And I think you’d look fucking hot when you’re on top of me.” 
“Want you to ruin me.” 
“Do whatever you want with me.” 
“Just sit on my fucking face already.” 
“Who gave you permission to touch yourself?”
“What did I just say?”
“You feel so fucking good in me.” 
“You can have all of me if that’s what you want.” 
“Baby—shit—I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the bed like this.”
“Tell me if it becomes too much, okay?” “Okay.” 
“S-Stop leaving marks on my neck. I have a presentation first thing in the morning.” “Then I get to leave marks anywhere below the neck?”
“Let me make you feel good this time?” 
“You only get to watch.” “B-but—” “No buts, sweetheart.” 
“I’d fuck you right here, right now, if I could.” 
“Let’s take it back to my place.”
“Are we— are we really going to do this here?”
“Turn around.” 
“You look so cute like this, you know?” “Shut the fuck up and just fuck me already.” 
“Why’d you stop?” “Because you sounded too fucking good and so I had like, a moment.” 
“I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”
“Eyes on me at all times, sweetheart.” 
“I wanna eat you out so fucking bad.” “Then why don’t you?”
“Spread your legs for me.” … “Spread them wider.” 
Hands firm on their thighs, keeping them from snapping them shut. 
“I’m not done with you yet.” 
A whispered, “Then come for me,” right next to their ear after they beg for release through tears and soft whimpers, because they’ve been edged for way too long. 
“Admit it — you want this as much as I do.” 
“I’ll be honest: I get off to the thought of you.” 
“No one does it like you.”
“Christ, I wanna fuck you so bad.” “You’ll get to do that once we get home.” 
“I want you in the most sinful ways possible.” 
“Need a hand?” 
“Aww, how eager can you get?” 
“I want you to touch me like I’m the only thing you could ever want.” 
“Can’t— can’t you go faster than this?” 
“You like messing with my head, don’t you?” “Only because it clearly turns you on.”
“B-But what about you?” “We can worry about me later. It’s all about you right now.”
“Shit, I’m so fucking hooked on you it’s not even funny.”
“You’d sound so good begging for it.”
“Fuck, you have such a tight hold on me, you don’t even know.” 
“Don’t make too many noises or we’ll get caught.” “That’s part of the thrill.”
“I don’t care, I just need these clothes off so I can fully feel you against me.” 
“You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted so badly.” 
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rosedom · 2 months
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"tonight, you are given the opportunity to view your favorites play in . . . a virgin shirley temple, please!
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 just genshin men and the types of virgins they are . . .
A/N : is it obvious yet i may have a teeny tiny little corruption kink?
"have you got any particular men in mind, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to see where he lies."
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 TYPE A 】 : romantics
these are the men who want to be swept off their feet, waiting for the right person to give themselves to. they want roses, candles—the whole deal, really. so when you've finally got them in your arms, in your bed, with petals to boot and the soft scent of their favorite candle in the air, well. they're very, very excited.
honestly, with them, it's a 50/50 whether or not they even masturbated: they're either entirely untouched, scared to do something so intimate with nobody to love them but themselves; or they're quite the regular masturbator, always cumming with the idea of someone (you) heavy n' heady in their mind.
aether, diluc, kaveh, alhaitham, kazuha, lyney, zhongli, thoma .
✦ㅤㅤ 【 TYPE B 】 : shy, a lil' reserved
they're endearingly shy, covering themselves even as they lie themselves bare for you. it's a contradiction, the way they want so desperately to be taken by you but to protect their heart, so unmoored in this new situation. it's so new, but they're liking it, so far.
if, in the end, they try and muffle their sounds into your neck, refuse to be loud—don't go harder. keep up your soft pace, keep on makin' them feel good and—most importantly—safe. once they feel totally and utterly safe in your arms, they'll finally grace your ears with the sweetest evidence of their pleasure.
aether, baizhu, tighnari, neuvillette, ayato, albedo, dainsleif, gorou .
✦ㅤㅤ 【 TYPE C 】 : bold and confident
the type of men to hold no such reservations. they may not care, particularly, about how inexperienced they are; rather, they're excited. they want to give themselves to you, fully and entirely, unscared of your gaze—they don't shy away. they lie open for you, ready for the taking, ready for you to love them so intimately.
it'd be a miracle to get these men to be bashful, but it'd also be so, so easy to make them so by the time you've got them needy for you, their first orgasm at another's hands just out of their reach.
kaeya, heizou, alhaitham, childe, venti, wriothesley, itto, ga ming .
✦ㅤㅤ 【 TYPE D 】 : virgin? not me!
those who refuse to admit they're virgins—even if it's painfully obvious. they'll play it like they know what they're doing until they finally have you and themself naked, stripped on the bed, and then they'll be stuck. they'll wait for your command—to tell them what to do, how to do it.
call them your good boy, why don't you? they'll act like they hate it (but they really, really won't. they'd love it). little daredevils, they are, for playing such a dangerous game; and, oh, you're so glad they played it, with you. it makes this fun.
scaramouche, childe, venti, lyney, itto .
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tee-hee ! time to go jack off. happy leap day everybody<3
29 FEB. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
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toasteaa · 23 days
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Horrible, awful habit of running my thumb on my lip when I think. Holding the tip of it between my teeth, letting it rest on the swell of my bottom lip, letting my tongue just barely touch the very tip of it; cannot - will not - stop thinking about Neuvillette fixating on it.
It's nothing significant - it should be nothing significant - but oh. There's something about it. The motion of your thumb running over the deep curve of your bottom lip, up along the crest and pausing on the dip of your cupid's bow, before continuing its path back down to settle back in the middle of your bottom lip; as though it's a pillow for it to rest while you gather your thoughts. The indentation as you push down ever so slightly, just enough to let the tip slide in. It's barely enough to even count as your mouth being open; your lips are too full to let more than the barest hint of teeth show where they're lightly closed around your nail. Your tongue is just barely raised to meet the intrusion. It's almost an invisible action, but he can see the tiniest flicker of movement when your tongue presses against the tip, and it makes something in him ache.
Neuvillette doesn't understand it; how something so innocent, so casual, could send these licks of desire straight through him. How, even though it does not (fully) distract him from the topic at hand, he finds himself following every move with his eyes while you're blissfully unaware. How he wonders if you'd make the same expression if it were his thumb against your lips. Or even, how you'd look if it were something else entirely -
It's not long before he slips up. His hand moves faster than yours, and while he tilts your chin up against his fingers his thumb rests against that curved swell of your lip; he's almost lost in the softness of it. He can feel your surprised gasp through the thin material of his glove along with the startled whisper of his name you let out and - oh, it sends a flame through him. He can't stop himself as he follows that familiar path, feeling the gentle dips that he's traced with his eyes so frequently.
He blinks. His mind catches up with his actions.
"Forgive me," said so calmly, as if Neuvillette's heart wasn't racing in his ears.
Yet he doesn't stop. He lets his thumb continue that path, rest on your cupid's bow, before coming back to rest on your bottom lip. Your lips are already parted, they have been the entire time, but he can't help but gently tug your lips down just a bit further. Just a little hint of that temptation -
"I was simply curious."
Surely you will pull away. Surely you will reprimand him for touching you so freely, so...wantonly.
"Only curious?"
For the first time since he'd moved, Neuvillette's eyes meet yours, and he can't describe the feeling curling through him when he sees that telltale spark in your eyes. Though, perhaps the softly stifled groan he lets out when you open your mouth oh so slightly to let his thumb rest against your teeth tells on his emotions more than he could put into words. You tease him with a bite and watch as his pupils dilate at the action, listen as he sucks in an uncharacteristically sudden breath. Relish in the hint of gravel that lingers on his exhale.
"...only curious." A lie. A blatant lie. But...perhaps it's one you can let him slip away with for now.
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writingsbymo-mo · 3 months
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More Tokyo Revengers Smut Headcanons
Featuring: Baji, Taiju, Sanzu, and Shion
Minors DNI
Some characters might have kinks that'll make some uncomfortable. Read at own risk
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Keisukei Baji
Pyro: this can range anywhere from setting your pubes on fire and putting it out with his cum to setting things on fire to fuck you near it. Wax falls under this category also with setting the special wax candles on fire and drawing on your body with the hot, melted wax. Fire has always gotten him excited.
Bondage: has many ways to tie you up and leave you struggling. Can be a bit sadistic when this is involved.
Biting: watch out for those fangs of his because you're surely to have some marks and maybe a little drops of blood when he's done.
Hair pulling: loves it when you pull his hair, gets him groaning and his dick twitching every time.
Secretly has a blood kink. Also enjoys using toys and is a bit degrading
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Taiju Shiba
Breeding: just seeing you stuffed with his cum gets him hard immediately. Won't stop until he's fully satisfied, until he knows you'll be carrying his child. Be ready to be fucked senseless every night and day
Spanking: if you've been bad, better be careful. He'll punish you until your ass his red and almost purple or until you beg and plead you'll be good.
Daddy: you call him daddy once and it made something in him snap. Loves it when you call him that when you're being punished or when you're pleading and begging for his dick
Dom: need we say more here? This man enjoys being in charge so being the one to pull the strings during sex, to be the one to make you so pliant beneath him, begging him for more. He pulls the reigns here. Might let you be on top a few times but he still needs to be the one in control.
Rough: bit of an understatement with him. Be ready to be broken in half and be unable to walk for a few days. Any fuck session with him is brutal like his fists. But don't worry, he'll make sure you can handle him.
Degrading and you know it
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Sanzu
Knife kink: enjoys to threaten you with his knife. Licks it when a little blood gets on it. Sometimes, you're not sure if he actually plans on teasing you with it or if he really will hurt you. But that's just what he wants, to get off to the fear in your eyes.
Toys: most of his seem more like torture devices. Has quite a few bars to tie you up to so you can't move, vibrators, clamps, floggers and whips, electroshock toys, even has a fuck machine he can place any dildo to it as he pleases.
Overstimulation: he will fuck until both of you are hurting and pass out or, he'll use whatever toys he has at his disposal to turn you into a crying, drooling mess of yourself.
Sadist: he's a major sadist. Loves watching you cry in pain while you can't move to stop him. Just know when he starts, he won't want to stop.
Degradation: need we say more? Calls you a disgusting slut, whore, etc. Especially happens when he's overstimulating you.
Secretly has a praise kink. Tell him he's being so good for you, that he's the best you've had. Kiss his neck and scars. He'll become soft in your arms, almost fucking you lazily or rougher depending on how it gets him going.
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Shion
Blood: will bite you and lap up drops of your blood. Might bite your tongue or lip a bit hard too. If you allow him, he'll leave little marks with a knife, enough for a little red to bead at the top of the cut. (F!Reader) On your period? Hope you don't mind him slurping and licking you clean. Little bonus when he finally gets that tongue ring.
Sadist: loves seeing you writhe in pain and pleasure. Often gets a bit too carried away with how rough he can get. Has all kinds of toys to use on you from clamps, sounding rods, plugs, vibrators, etc. Choking and breathplay also involved. Sex with his is very rough.
Degradation: he'll be calling you his little cock slut, watching you beg as he can't help but degrade you. Your his slut and he's gonna make you know it.
Cuckolding: some days, he wants to watch you get fucked by someone else whether it be one person or a group. Gets him so worked up as someone else fills you up, marks you, but he knows you're his at the end of the day. Prefers if it's people he knows or you know.
Secretly enjoys being spanked or having his hair pulled. Drives him crazy. But wait...he's also a bit of a masochist though this will take some experimenting to find it.
Also, very good with his tongue. He's very proud of that fact he can make anyone cum in less than a minute. Lots of slurping
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steddielations · 8 months
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nsfw text, steddie smut
They’re gonna be late.
Steve takes some responsibility but it’s mostly Eddie’s fault, the insatiable little bastard. It’s taken forever to get dressed, teasing each other through the process. Eddie’s really going for it, tugging on Steve’s belt, brushing his nipples while buttoning his shirt, bending over in front of him taking forever to tie his boots because he knows it drives Steve crazy, trying to goad Steve into fucking him.
Steve would gladly give him what he wants, but they’ve already fooled around so much today, wasting time and Eddie knows that, it’s his movie premiere they have to make it to. So Steve doesn’t give in, but maybe he purposely riles Eddie a little, standing behind him in the mirror as he fastens his thick leather necklace for him, fitting it snug against his throat the way he knows Eddie likes.
“This feels dirty,” Eddie smirks, his eyes going dark and hazy at Steve in the mirror.
“Cause you’re a little freak,” Steve teases, tugging the necklace before looping his arms around Eddie.
“Mm, call me that again, sweet talker.”
“You’d like it too much.”
Eddie turns, going in for a bitey little kiss, “Maybe rough me up while you do it, huh?”
“Eddie, we don’t have time for this, baby,” Steve says even as he kisses Eddie back.
“C’mon I wanna taste you, just a little,” Eddie lies, Steve knows what he wants and it’s not anything little.
He feels his hard-earned resolve melting away, crowding Eddie against the dresser as the kiss deepens. Any resistance is gone when Eddie guides his hand down, encouraging Steve to grope him beneath his skirt, a flowy black thing that stops under the knees but feels so racy to Steve nonetheless.
It blows his mind, having someone like Eddie all to himself, someone who wears what he wants and does what he wants and wants what he wants without giving a damn.
Steve’s hands are greedy and possessive, taking advantage of every precious piece of Eddie the skirt gives him easy access to. His fingers brush Eddie’s underwear, smaller and tighter ones with more control than he usually wears.
Steve groans against his mouth, fingers twisting in the fabric and pulling them down the small curve of Eddie’s ass, indulgently palming his cheeks, feeling Eddie shiver and moan in his arms.
Resolve broken, Steve pulls back and turns Eddie around by the waist, roughly lifting up his skirt.
Eddie cackles wildly, gripping the dresser and letting Steve manhandle him, “Thought we didn’t have time?”
Steve’s far too gone for this game but he plays smug anyway, meeting Eddie’s eyes in the mirror as he gives his ass a little slap, reveling in how Eddie goes pink and bites his lip. “Want me to fuck you or not?”
Eddie pushes back into Steve’s hand, bending forward some more, “See for yourself, stud.”
That’s when Steve catches sight of what’s between his cheeks, the shiny end of a plug nestled inside him.
Steve outright groans, “Eddie, you little fucking—”
“What are you gonna do with me, baby?” Eddie arches back against him enticingly, “What are you gonna do about it, hm?” 
Something snaps, hot and crackling all through Steve, possessively gripping Eddie’s hip with one hand. The other  wiggles the plug around before sliding it out, holding Eddie still when he rasps out a moan, his hole greedily clenching at the emptiness.
Steve doesn’t bother meeting Eddie’s gaze in the mirror, quickly undoing his belt and sliding his pants down just enough. He pumps himself a couple times, murmuring as he pushes against Eddie’s rim, “Gonna fuck you about it.”
They could use more lube but he knows Eddie likes it like this, clothes pushed aside, hurried and rough like they couldn’t spare another second, so hard up and needy for each other. Steve teases him with just the tip for a moment, smirking blissfully at the way Eddie squirms and groans, trying to push himself down on Steve’s cock. 
Steve lets him get good and riled before he pushes all the way in, threading a hand in Eddie’s hair when his head falls forward with a punched out moan. Gripping just tight enough, Steve makes Eddie look at him in the mirror as he works up a pace, deep and indulgent. 
The sight of Eddie makes Steve groan just as much as the feel of him, his dick tenting beneath his skirt, his messy eye makeup getting even more so. He’s gonna look so freshly fucked on the red carpet, which is exactly what he wanted to happen and the thought gives Steve a filthy thrill too. 
“What else am I supposed to do when you look like this? You drive me fucking crazy, Eddie, I gotta have you,” Steve grits out, grinding deep inside, “Feel that, baby? Feel what you do to me?”
“So good, Steve, so—” Eddie moans brokenly.
“Yeah? This is what you wanted?” Steve fists his hair a little tighter when he doesn’t answer, wanting to kiss the small gasp he makes from his lips, “Isn’t it?”
“Yes, God, please. Fuck me however you want.”
Steve goes harder, his thrusts rocking the dresser where he’s got Eddie pinned against it, “Yeah I’m gonna give you what you need. Lift up your skirt for me, let me see you.” 
Eddie releases his iron grip on the wood to do as he’s told. In the mirror, he lifts the skirt so Steve can see his dick achingly hard between his legs, leaking at the tip.
“Fuck, you look good like this, all hard and pretty,” Steve bites at his neck, “Is that all for me?”
Eddie responds somewhere between a hum and a whine, “Just for you,” his hands twitching where he holds his skirt, wanting to touch himself so badly. 
“You're gonna be good if I take care of it for you, baby?” Steve murmurs, his ears burning with the needy noise Eddie makes in response.
He sounds more and more wrecked as Steve angles his hips just right and slams harder and harder into him. He reaches around, taking Eddie’s cock in his hand, slicking pre-come down his length and feeling Eddie throb in his palm. 
Any time Eddie’s eyes roll back or he closes them too long, Steve grips his hair tighter, makes him look at him in the mirror. He loves when Eddie can’t hide behind a little grin, his mouth open and brows knitted upwards, nothing but explicit pleasure on his face.
His grip on Eddie’s hair slips, but before his head falls forward, Steve’s hand is already around his throat. His palm is broad against the vulnerable column, putting just the right amount of pressure that drives Eddie wild. He makes a choked off noise, his hole clenching around Steve in beautiful tight pulses as he fucks the come out of him.
Steve’s hips stutter once Eddie’s finished and shivering against him, making sure he’s buried deep inside when he comes, fucking every last drop back into Eddie. He chuckles when Eddie slumps against the dresser, eyes shut with a sated smile on his lips.
Steve would love to stand there and adore the sight but he has other plans. Wasting no time, he gently pulls out, buttons himself up and grabs the plug again. He revels in Eddie’s surprised gasp and the way that his body greedily accepts the plug, keeping Steve’s come inside.
“Oh, now this feels dirty,” Eddie says with a twisted little grin over his shoulder.
“That’s ‘cause it is,” Steve smacks his cheek for good measure, fixing his skirt and underwear for him, “Now come on, you said you’d be good, we have to go.”
A little unsteady on his feet, Eddie does as he’s told, giddily hanging off his shoulder and yeah, they’re late as shit but everything’s still perfect.
For the prompts “this feels dirty” “that’s because it is” and “i wanna taste you” for @cuips-not-cute I hope you enjoy this!! 
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dlartistanon · 11 months
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Taking up residence in my mind
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