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sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs · 2 days ago

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Till Death Do Us Apart II - John Constantine x You

You grinned a bit and continued your ministrations, your fingers moving down to his neck and shoulders. “Is my plan working?” He took a deep breath, wincing as another coughing fit racked through his body. When he caught his breath, he spoke, his tone half-joking, half weary. “Yeah, your plan is working great. Just a few more head massages and I’ll be all on board with chemo and radiation. No problem.”

You weren’t fooled by his sarcasm. You could see the exhaustion and pain etched on his face, the way he winced as he spoke. You knew he was suffering, but his stubborn attitude was driving you crazy. You wanted to shake him, make him understand the urgency of the situation.

“Quit being a stubborn idiot. You’re killing yourself, John. You know damn well you need treatment.”

His jaw clenched at your words, irritation and frustration flaring up. He knew you were right, but he refused to admit it. It was easier to be defiant than admit he was scared.

“I don’t need your damn guilt trips. I’ve made my choice, and I’m sticking to it.”

He sat up a little straighter, a hint of anger in his voice, even as his body protested the movement and sent a wave of pain through him.

You matched his glare with one of your own, your frustration and worry boiling over.

“Your choice is going to get you killed. You’re stubborn, John, but this isn’t you being noble. This is plain stupidity. You’re just giving up.”

You grabbed his arm, your grip tight.

“Don’t you dare make me a widow. You can’t do this to me. To us. To our son.”

The mention of your son’s name hit him harder than any punch. He flinched slightly, the guilt and fear flashing in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare bring him into this. This has nothing to do with him. It’s my body, my choice.”

He tried to pull away from your grip, but he didn’t have the strength to break free. His body was weak from the cancer, no matter how hard he tried to pretend otherwise.

“End of discussion, Y/N. Once and for all.”

You didn’t let go of his arm, your fingers digging into his skin as you held on tighter.

“End of discussion? You’re just going to throw your life away because you’re too damn stubborn to accept help. You’re being selfish, John. Selfish and cowardly. You can’t just pretend this isn’t happening.”

You could see the pain and guilt in his eyes, but you refused to back down. You loved him, but you weren’t going to let him give up without a fight.

The accusation of being cowardly and selfish stung, and his face twisted into a mixture of anger and shame.

“Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t understand.”

He pushed you off. He tried to get out of the bed but stumbled, his strength betraying him. He caught himself on the bedside table, his body protesting every movement. He was weakening, and he hated it. He hated the fact that you were pushing him, that you wouldn’t let him give up. He leaned against the wall, panting.

“Don’t you get it? I’m tired. I’m sick of fighting. I don’t want to go through that hell again. I can’t. If you truly love me…or whatever then let me fucking be!”

Your heart ached, seeing him struggle to stand on his own was killing you.

“Let you be? Just be a martyr? Watch as you waste away and leave us behind? You’re being an idiot, John. You’re not thinking about our son, about me. This isn’t just about you.”

You moved towards him, reaching out to support him, but he pushed you away again.

He was getting angrier now, lashing out like a wounded animal. He didn’t want pity, and he didn’t want your help. He wanted to be left alone to deal with this on his own.

“I didn’t ask for this, did I? I didn’t ask to get cancer again. So don’t you dare talk to me about being a martyr or being selfish. It’s my life, damn it!”

He collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted from the exertion. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, the coughing starting again.

You were torn between wanting to hold him and wanting to strangle him. He was being so stubborn, so damn difficult.

“Fuck you, John! You’re being so infuriating! It’s like talking to a wall. You’re being a stubborn jackass and you know it.”

You knelt down in front of him, your hands on his thighs as you looked at him, pleading with him with your eyes.

“Please, for the love of God, stop being so damn stubborn. You need help. You need treatment.”

He wanted to push you away, to keep you from getting close, but this damn woman knew his weak spots.

“Damn you... Why can’t you just let me be, huh? I don’t want your help. I don’t need it.”

He tried to look away, but your eyes pulled him back. He hated the pleading look on your face, the desperation in your voice. He hated how much he still cared, how much he didn’t want to hurt you, how much he actually wanted your support.

He closed his eyes, his resistance crumbling.

“I’m tired, Y/N. I’m so damn tired...”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. The anger and defiance were still there, deep within him, but the facade was crumbling. He was just too exhausted to keep fighting you, to keep fighting his own body.

Your touch, your proximity, your concern, it was all overwhelming. His body sagged, all the fight seemingly leaving him.

“I don’t want to go through all that again... the pain, the meds, the weakness...”

He pulled away slightly, searching your eyes for any hint of understanding.

“I just... I can’t, alright? I can’t go through that again.”

You saw the moment his resistance broke, and your heart ached at the raw vulnerability on his face.

“And you think I’m not tired? I’m exhausted, love. Exhausted from watching you suffer. From watching you fade away. From worrying about you every damn day.”

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, your touch is gentle and loving.

“Please, John. You’re making this harder than it has to be. You can’t do this alone. Let people help you. Let me help you.”

You pulled back to look into his eyes and when you saw that he wasn’t even looking at you, you sighed heavily and nodded slowly.

“You won’t listen, huh?”

John bristled at your words. He hated himself for making you worry, for making you feel exhausted and anxious. But damn you for guilt-tripping him. For knowing all his weak spots.

“Of course I won’t listen. I’m stubborn, remember?”

He tried to sound defiant, but the vulnerability was still there, lurking beneath the surface.

“And I don’t need help. I can handle this.”

You looked down and nodded reluctantly accepting his choice for now.

He expected you to argue more, to keep pleading with him. But when you nodded, something in your eyes shifted. It was resignation, acceptance. He felt a pang of guilt and worry at that.

“Wait... are you... accepting this? You’re not going to fight me anymore, are you?”

He reached out and grabbed your hand, needing to feel you, needing your reassurance that you wouldn’t give up on him so easily. His gruff demeanor faltered, replaced with a hint of fear and uncertainty.

You let out a heavy sigh, your grip tightening on his hand. He was so damn stubborn, so damn afraid of letting people in. You wanted to shake him, make him realize that he needed help. But you also knew that pushing him too hard would only make him pull away more.

“I’m not giving up, you dumbass. But I can’t keep fighting you like this. It’s wearing me down, John.”

You looked into his eyes, pleading with him once more.

“Please... just consider it. For me, and for our son.”

The mention of your son’s name hit him like a punch to the gut again. He felt torn, his selfishness warring with his love for you and their son. He knew deep down that what he was doing was selfish, that he was being a damn idiot, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it.

“Fuck it, Y/N. You’re not making this easy, are you?”

He closed his eyes, the guilt and frustration weighing heavily on him. He let out a long, weary sigh.

“Fine... fine, alright?”

There was a hint of resignation in his voice, a hint of acceptance that he was outnumbered and out of options. He knew he couldn’t keep pushing you away, couldn’t keep fighting this battle on his own.

“I’ll... I’ll consider it. But I can’t promise anything, alright? It’s not easy for me to accept help...”

You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his stubborn pride and his love for you and your family. You knew how hard it was for him to admit weakness, to let anyone in.

“I know it’s not easy. And I’m not expecting you to change overnight. Just... just don’t shut me out completely, okay? Let me be here for you.”

You reached out and took his face gently in your hands, making him meet your gaze.

His walls were slowly crumbling under your touch, your words. He hated how easily you could break through his tough exterior, expose the vulnerability and fear that he hid so well. But damn him, he loved you for it, too.

“I...I’ll try. I’ll try to let you in. It won’t be easy, you know that, right?”

He looked at you, searching your eyes for reassurance, for understanding.

“Especially when you have been nagging non-stop for...how long, two days now? yeah.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, your heart aching at the mixture of defiance and affection in his voice. You knew he was putting up a front, trying to make light of the situation, but you could also see the fear in his eyes.

“Yeah, well, you’re a stubborn ass who needs a little nagging every now and then. Can’t let you get away with everything, can I?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he let out a soft chuckle. Despite his resistance, he couldn’t deny that your humor was a welcome distraction from the heaviness of the situation.

“You think you can straighten me out, hm? Good luck with that one.”

He reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch was strangely gentle.

“Why don’t you give me a couple of kisses right now, hm? I’m sick, remember?”

He gave you a cocky grin, his attempt to deflect the seriousness of the situation with flirtation. He was trying to regain some semblance of control, to shift the focus away from his vulnerability.

“Come on, let me have a few kisses. It’s the least you can do for a dying man like me.”

He reached out and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but you didn’t resist his attempt to pull you closer. You could see the flicker of fear and vulnerability behind his cocky facade, and you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse him.

“Oh, you think you’re so charming, don’t you? Playing the dying man card to get a few extra kisses out of me.”

You leaned in, your lips hovering just inches away from his.

His body reacted instinctively to your closeness, his heart rate quickening and his breath catching in his throat. He tried to maintain his cool demeanor, but he couldn’t quite hide the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

“If it works, it works. And I’d say it’s working pretty well right now.”

He reached up to cup your chin, tracing his thumb along your jawline before gently pulling you even closer.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his cheeky response, his words melting some of the tension that had grown between you.

“You’re such a smooth talker, aren’t you? But I suppose I can’t resist your charms, even when you’re being a stubborn ass.”

You closed the remaining gap between you, capturing his lips in a soft, yet passionate, kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss, pouring all your love and concern into it.

He melted into your kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. He let out a soft moan at the feel of your body against his, the familiarity and comfort of your presence soothing his worries for a moment.

He returned the kiss with equal intensity, his lips moving hungrily against yours. For a brief moment, he forgot about the cancer, the fear, the uncertainty of your future together.

When you finally broke apart for air, he rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingling in the small space between you two.

He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you, breathing in your scent as he gathered his thoughts. He knew he couldn’t ignore the situation indefinitely, but he wasn’t ready to face it just yet.

“I...I don’t want to think about it, about any of it. Not tonight.”

He nuzzled his face against your neck, his voice muffled against your skin.

“Just... just let me hold you tonight. No more talking about doctors or chemo or anything. Just you and me, okay?”

You held him close, your fingers running through his hair soothingly. You understood his need to escape, to take a break from the reality of his situation. You wanted to give him that respite, even if it was only for one night.

“Okay. No more talking tonight. Just you and me.”

You pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, your voice soothing and filled with love.

“Let me take care of you tonight. Let me show you how much I love you, John.”

He clung to you like a drowning man, his strong facade crumbling under your tenderness. He felt a surge of gratitude and love for you, for your unwavering support and understanding.

“You always know how to take care of me, don’t you?”

He pulled back slightly so he could look into your eyes, his own gaze betraying his vulnerability now.

“I…uh..I don’t deserve you, you know that? I don’t deserve someone as perfect and loving as you. But I’m selfish enough to keep you anyways.”

You chuckled softly and shook your head in disbelief. “Yeah? so are you going to fuck me or what?”

He arched an eyebrow at your unexpected question, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn’t help but find humor in your bluntness.

“What happened to taking care of me, huh? Thought you were gonna pamper me and treat me tenderly all night and all that...mushy shit.”

You smirked back at him, your fingers trailing down his chest in a teasing manner.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. But I also know you well enough to know that sometimes you need... a little more than just tender love and care. Plus, it doesn’t sound like you.”

He let out a deep chuckle, your touch sending shivers down his spine. He couldn’t deny that you knew him all too well.

“Ah, there it is. The sass and spice that I love so much.”

He tugged you closer, his hands skimming down your hips and to your ass, giving it a possessive squeeze.

“And you’re right. I do need a bit more than just tendercare.”

He dipped his head to plant hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, his hands roaming your body eagerly. He was still weakened by his illness, but his desire for you burned strong.

He could feel your pulse quicken under his lips, and he smiled against your skin.

“You know just how to push my buttons, don’t you? How to get me all worked up and wanting you.”

You let out a soft moan as his lips trailed down your neck, your hips rolling against his involuntarily. You loved the way he could make you weak with his touch, how he could send sparks of pleasure coursing through your body with just a simple kiss.

“I could say the same about you, darling.”

You reached up to grip his hair, your fingers tangling in his soft short locks as you tilted your head back to give him better access to your neck.

He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. He relished in the feel of you arching against him, your body responding so beautifully to his touch.

“You always did love when I marked you up, loved when everyone could see that you were mine.”

He pulled away from your neck, his gaze raking over the hickeys he’d left behind with a satisfied smirk.

He continued his exploration of your body, his hands roaming over your curves with possessive caresses. His mouth trailed down your collarbone, his teeth grazing against your skin.

“I love how you respond to me, how your body craves my touch.”

He reached up to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple through your clothes.

You let out a gasp as his touch ignited a familiar ache within you. You pushed closer to him, your hands grasping at his shirt as you needed more contact, more of his touch.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me.” You captured his lips in a heated kiss, your tongue delving into his mouth as you expressed your need for him in the only way you knew how.

He groaned into the kiss, his arms curling around you and pulling you tightly against him. He could feel your desire, your desire for him, and it only fueled his own. He returned the kiss with equal passion, his tongue tangling with yours as he fought for dominance.

“You drive me insane, you know?” He tugged at your lower lip with his teeth, nipping it gently just the way he knew you liked it.

“You make me forget everything else. All I can think about is you.”

You moaned and held onto him tightly, a few minutes passed and the next thing you know he is pounding into you and the headboard is slamming against the wall.

The sound of the headboard slamming against the wall echoed through the room, accompanied by the sounds of your heavy breathing and moans of pleasure.

He was relentless, his hips snapping against you with an intensity that matched his need for you. He wanted to possess you, to claim you as his own in the most primal way possible.

He growled in your ear, his voice low and raspy from exertion.

“Mine, you’re mine. You hear me?” He continued his rhythm, his movements growing more frantic as he neared the edge of his limits. He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing your skin.

“You’re mine, do you understand? Nobody else can have you like this. Only I can make you feel this way.”

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against him as his pace quickened, his body shuddering with each thrust.

You cried his name in pure ecstasy and pulled his face back to yours, kissing him hungrily as your bodies continued to move together in a perfect rhythm.

“I do understand but you don’t, that’s what I have been trying to tell you...Ahh! That I don’t wanna be widowed you fucking idiot, I don’t want another man to touch me but you.” He growled in response to your words, his movements growing more aggressive as he nipped at your lower lip.

“You think I want to leave you? You think I want anyone else to have you? I’ll burn the world down before I let that happen.”

He punctuated his words with a deep thrust, his eyes locked onto yours as he watched you unravel beneath him. He wanted desperately to possess you, to keep you all to himself.

You let out another loud cry of pleasure and dug your nails into his back.

“Fuuuuck, J-John slow down...you’re going to hurt yourself.” You stared up at him in concern. He groaned at the feel of your nails raking down his back, the pain only adding to his pleasure.

“You think I care? I’ll take all the pain if it means having you like this.”

He took you harder, faster, pushing you both to the edge. He saw the concern in your eyes but he couldn’t stop, not when he was so close. He felt as though he was losing himself in you and he didn’t care.

He could feel your body trembling beneath him as you both neared your orgasm. His movements grew more frenzied, more desperate, as he needed to claim you with everything he had.

“Cum for me, darling. I want to watch you fall apart in my arms.”

He leaned down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he continued to pound his cock into you.

He could feel your pussy clenching around him, your cries of pleasure growing louder and more urgent. He knew you were close, he could feel it. With one final, deep thrust, he sent you over the edge.

“That’s it, love. Let go. Let me take care of you.” He buried his face in your neck, his own climax cresting as he held you tightly against him. He was shaking, his body drained of energy but his mind and heart were still alive with love for you.

He collapsed beside you, his breathing heavy and labored. He pulled you into his arms, his fingers gently stroking your hair as he tried to catch his breath.

“God, I love you. I don’t tell you that enough.”

He nuzzled your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin and let out a weary sigh that quickly turned into another coughing fit. You curled into his arms, your body still trembling with pleasure and the lingering effects of your lovemaking. You could feel his body shaking as the coughing fit passed, concern washing over you once more.

“John, you need to take better care of yourself. This isn’t the first time you’ve pushed yourself too far and you know it.”

You reached up to touch his forehead, checking for any signs of another fever.

He brushed your hand away, a stubborn frown on his face. He hated being reminded of his health issues, especially when he was consumed by his desire for you.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I just got carried away. It was worth it, trust me.”

He tried to play it off, but the weariness in his voice betrayed his exhaustion. He knew he wasn’t being honest, but he didn’t want you to fret over him again.

You eyed him skeptically, not convinced one bit. You knew how stubborn he could be, how reluctant he was to acknowledge his own limitations.

“Sure, it’s worth ending up in the hospital. Because that’s a real aphrodisiac.”

You rolled your eyes, your concern manifesting as sarcasm. You pulled away from him slightly, folding your arms over your chest.

He huffed in irritation, not appreciating your sarcastic response. He knew you were right, of course. He was being reckless and stubborn as usual. But he hated feeling weak and helpless, especially in front of you.

“You’re a real buzzkill, you know that? I was trying to have a moment here and you just had to go and ruin it.”

He grumbled, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt warring within him.

“You’re a hypocrite, you know that? Telling me not to worry and then hacking your lungs up right after.”

You scooted closer and hugged his waist from behind, laying your head against his back. He sighed, the weight of your head against his back both comforting and irritating. He was torn between wanting to push you away and pull you closer.

“I’m not a hypocrite. I just don’t like feeling weak, okay? I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you, not the other way around.”

He spoke softly, his irritation giving way to vulnerability. He reached back to run his fingers through your hair, the simple gesture a contradiction to his previous stubbornness.

You softened at his words, your irritation with him melting away.

“You’re a fucking idiot. You don’t need to be strong all the time. You’re allowed to be vulnerable around me. I won’t think you’re weak, I promise.”

You wrapped your arms tighter around his waist, clinging to him like a freaking koala.

He let out another weary sigh, his stiff shoulders relaxing under your touch. He knew you were right, but his ego was a stubborn beast. It was hard for him to admit his weaknesses, even to you.

“I know, I know. I just...I don’t want to burden you. I don’t want you to have to worry about me all the time.”

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, the vulnerability in his eyes telling you that he was struggling more than he would ever admit.

You grinned playfully and ducked her head forward, kissing him again and again and again. He chuckled softly, the sound tinged with both fondness and annoyance. He tried to be irritated with you for being a nuisance, but your playful kisses and carefree attitude were wearing down his defenses.

“You’re too much to bear. I’m trying to have a serious conversation and you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Despite his words, he couldn’t help but smile as your lips continued to pepper his face with kisses. You laughed softly and shook your head, it’s rare to see John smiling like this and you loved it.

“No, I can’t help myself. I’m gone in the brains and I kinda love you.” You said playfully. He rolled his eyes, but there was no real irritation behind it. He knew you were just teasing him, trying to lighten the mood and lift his spirits. And it was working.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a regular comedian, you are. Lucky for you I kinda love you too, you airhead.”

He reached up to flick your forehead gently, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to make his point. You yelped in mock offense, rubbing your forehead dramatically where he had flicked you.

“Hey! That’s uncalled for, you know. Just for that, I’m gonna keep torturing you with my kisses.”

You grabbed his face and planted a noisy, slobbery kiss on his cheek, your eyes glittering with mischief. He groaned and tried to squirm away from you, but he was laughing too hard to put up much of a fight.

“You’re disgusting, you know that? You call those kisses?”

He made a show of wiping his cheek with exaggerated disgust, even though he secretly loved it when you got playful like this.

You laughed loudly and tackled him onto the bed, straddling him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Disgusting, huh? I’ll show you disgusting!”

You leaned down and began planting sloppy, noisy kisses all over his face, making exaggerated kissing noises with each one.

He feigned protest, flailing his arms and legs around dramatically as if he was trying to escape. “Fine, fine! I surrender! You win! Have mercy!”

He couldn’t stop laughing at your antics, his face now covered in a mix of slobber and lipstick. Despite the mess, he was enjoying this playful side of you far more than he would ever admit. You finally relented, collapsing on top of him with a satisfied grin. “You give up? You can’t take anymore of my ’disgusting’ kisses?”

You batted your eyelashes innocently, as if you weren’t the one acting like a silly school girl just a moment before.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close despite the mess on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. I give up, you win. You’re a master at the art of annoying kisses.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, trying to maintain his grumpy facade but failing miserably. He couldn’t help but smile at your infectious energy. You grinned triumphantly, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Damn right I am. And you love it.” You snuggled closer to him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He chuckled and held you tighter, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head or anything.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair. Despite the lighthearted banter, there was a hint of affection and vulnerability in his voice.

You hummed contentedly, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you and the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest.

“Too late, it’s already gone to my head.” You teased, giggling softly. You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes softening as you took in the expression on his face.

“...you know I’m going to worry about you, right? Even if you don’t want me to.”

He let out a weary sigh, his smile fading slightly as your words hit a nerve. He knew you would worry, that you couldn’t help it. He didn’t want you to worry, but he also knew that trying to stop you was a futile effort.

“I know, I know. I can’t seem to stop you from worrying, can I? But you don’t have to, okay? I’m tougher than I look.”

He tried to sound convincing, but the vulnerability in his eyes betrayed his words.

You two finally took a much needed nap and slept peacefully in each other’s arms, naked and cuddled close, exhausted from making love and playful banters.

A few months later…

He slept soundly, wrapped in your embrace, his weary body finally able to rest. you were so exhausted that you didn’t notice the subtle changes in his breathing.

His once steady breathing became more labored, a faint rattle sounding in his chest. He shifted fitfully in his sleep, muttering incoherently under his breath.

You woke up suddenly, sensing something was amiss. You glanced at his face, seeing the sweat beading on his forehead. You shifted closer to him, your heart racing with worry.

“John... John, baby? Wake up.” You gently shook his shoulder, trying to rouse him from his restless slumber.

#Keanu reeves #John constantine #constantine 2005 #Keanu reeves x reader #Keanu reeves character #Fluff #Smut #Angst

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sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs · 4 days ago

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sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs · 4 days ago

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I desperately need to bounce up and down on some beefy Bucky cock whilst he just sits there with his hands behind his head condescendingly watching you smirking

UGH

no i totally hear you

and you’re whining and blubbering how big he is and that fucking cocky ass smile he has on his face

“gettin’ tired, bunny?” he asks with a smirk in his tone, your hips grinding into his as you shake your head with a huff

“nuh uh, fuck..” you curse under your breath as the tip of his cock hits your sweet spot and you can’t help but moan out as you keep riding him

“good. not ready to cum yet and mark this pussy. keep goin’ f’me.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut

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sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs · 4 days ago

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Yesss

Giggly high sex with bucky🫠

I NEED IT!!!

giggly high sex is so special cause sex isn’t supposed to be serious anyways, so just the silly thought of getting situated on each other, body parts bumping and things making noises or creaks 🥹😭

#Reblog #It's one of the only things I miss from smoking weed

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sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs · 5 days ago

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Nasty Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky eats you out and he’s nasty about it

Warning: ABSOLUTE FILTH, Bucky eating your pussy, smut smut smuttt, cum eating, pussy spanking

Word count: 1k+

Nasty!Bucky who spits on your pussy while eating you out just to watch it slide down your puffy folds until it dips to your entrance. shoving his tongue inside your hole and fucking his saliva deeper inside, chuckling against you when he feels you clench around his hot tongue. “you like that, sweetheart?” words hot and thick against your sticky cunt.

Bucky gets impatient with not having an answer and pulls away just to spank your pussy, using his metal hand. “asked you a question,” he says sternly, catching your attention. you immediately squeal, voice breaking with a “y-yes! oh god, i love it, Bucky!” you can barely make out a muffled, “good girl, just needa use your words f’me” before he’s spreading your folds open wide, watching as you blossom pink and flushed for him before licking up your slit and sucking your clit directly into his mouth.

Nasty!Bucky who lets his tongue wander when he’s going down on you, slipping inside your ass and feeling your pussy clench around his metal fingers that are still stuffing your cunt full. “quit squirmin’, doll,” he pulls his fingers out, coated in your slick, just to meanly slap your pussy, again, twice before spreading your thighs further.

His tongue licking around your puckered hole, “gonna let me fuck you? want me to fill you up the way no man ever has?” his voice deep and rough, eyes flaring with something possessive, getting off on corrupting you.

Nasty!Bucky who fucks you hard just to see you squirt all over him. his thrusts are nothing short of cruel, swollen tip pushing against your abused g-spot over and over again. you feel the pressure building, your thighs threatening to close from the intense feeling but Bucky won’t have it.

His strong palms are shoving your legs apart and driving his hips even harder into the same spot. you try to warn him, voice wavering with each rough crash of his pelvis against your ass, but he only presses his hand down on your lower stomach, amplifying the sensation until you finally spray.

His chest is glistening from your gushing pussy and you feel a wave of embarrassment knowing you’re the direct cause for the sheen on his abs. Before you can think too much about it, Bucky’s pulling out and diving face first into your cunt. “Hey hey, it’s okay sweet girl, you just needed a good fucking huh?”

He licks at your folds, thumb rubbing harsh circles into your clit as your juices continue to flood his face despite you trying your hardest to make it stop. he runs his face back and forth across your silky skin and groans hoarsely, basking in your taste as he shoves his tongue inside your pussy.

“James!! s’ too much—fuck!” you cry out, muscles giving out as you try to push his head away. he pulls his head back only to spit on your pussy, giving her two more rushed licks before sitting up on his knees once more, stroking his cock and fucking you right back in the same rhythm, a dirty combination of slick and squirt decorating the lower half of his face, coating his lips and that damn smirk you love so much.

Nasty!Bucky who fucks you in missionary just to watch you cry. the way he rams his cock into you is nothing short of mean, his eyes half lidded in lust and his fingers intertwined with your own as he holds them above your head. you’re rendered helpless, forced to take every rough thrust of his hips even when it’s too much. your cunt begins clenching around him too tight, the slight pain that the stretch of his fat cock gives you growing more intense with each relentless thrust.

You can’t even help the big tears welling up in your lash line or your bottom lip quivering as you begin to pout at him. “B-Buck, it’s too deep. fuck, you’re too deep!” you begin to whine out, head turning back and forth against the plush pillow, body being run for all its worth and feeling the twitches throughout your frame in an unfamiliar pattern—you’re at your limit. and he’s still not through.

“just gotta make sure i get all of it, you know this, doll,” his nose is dragging along the column of your throat, his balls slapping wetly against your ass as he ensures every inch of his cock is snug inside your overstimulated pussy. your eyes shut and the tears begin to fall, your heels digging into the dip of his spine to pull him even deeper, body conflicting itself and somehow still begging for more.

“there she is, that’s—fuck sakes—that’s my good girl,” he praises once he feels you pulling him in even closer, head pulling back to look you in the eyes before flattening his tongue against your jaw, licking all the way up your cheek and savoring the salty taste of your tears.

“taste so sweet. you’re cryin’ for it. My baby’s poor little pussy can’t get enough even with all your whinin’,” his words are punctuated with a soft chuckle before he begins lapping at the opposite side of your face. his wet tongue moves slowly across your skin, the humiliation causing soft sobs to fall from your swollen lips but his hips never stop moving. his leaky tip rams against your cervix with each thrust while he presses a wet kiss to the corner of your eye. “so pretty when you cry, we both know how much you want this, how much you need it.”

Nasty!Bucky who can't help himself from eating his own cum out of your pussy. he'd long since lost count of how many times he felt your cunt flutter around him, coming over and over from his insatiable desire to fuck you for all he's worth. he didn't give you time to recover after an orgasm, and if you're honest, you can't be sure you can tell the difference between one ending and the next one washing over your overstimulated body.

Bucky had inhumane stamina, the super serum obviously had its perks, and the bedroom happened to be one of the places it showcases the best. He can go for hours, never getting tired of your broken moans ringing through his ears or that frothy ring of your cum that coats the base of his cock. but when he does finally come, it doesn't mean he's anywhere close to being done with you. He could never get tired of you.

Nasty!Bucky who fills you with so much of his cum that it can't possibly all fit inside of your pussy. it spills out even with him still driving his hips forward to push it deeper, making a mess of your thighs, and his heavy balls as it overflows. The soft silk sheets beneath you now soaking with a mix of your cum. Bucky simply doesn't care and groans out in a raspy tone as he feels his orgasm last longer than normal, his cock somehow still filling you with more of his hot, sticky load.

When he eventually pulls out, he's immediately dropping to his stomach and pushing the backs of your thighs towards your chest. you've never looked so messy before, he's sure of it, as he licks up the thick stream of white pouring out of your sloppy folds. his eyes shut as he revels in the taste of your combined cum, bumping your clit with his nose while his tongue laps at your quivering entrance as he cleans up the mess he made of you.

He humps the sheets with messy thrusts, “open those eyes for me angel.” You open your eyes and Bucky groans against your cunt, he sucks and bites your clit and it has you whimpering. The look in his eyes is so soft in comparison to how he’s wrecking you. He kisses your clit and moans loudly, his cum spilling all over the sheets but his eyes never left yours.

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sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs · 5 days ago

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girls dont want flowers we want brutal throat fuckings and bruised asses (its me, im girls)

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sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs · 5 days ago

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give it to me sticky, nasty, raw

creds — @/amethystbucky on tiktok

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sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs · 5 days ago

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All women have pubic hair, all women have armpit hair, all women have moustache hairs, all women have hairy legs, most women have hair on their stomach and breasts. If you find that disgusting then you aren’t attracted to women at all because that’s how we naturally exist, that’s what we look like, those are our secondary sex characteristics. Congrats on having brain rot though.

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sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs · 7 days ago

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𝟐𝟓 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐠𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞!!!

And X-men Premiered In Theaters!

#X Men #Marvel #Marvel Comics #MCU

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sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs · 7 days ago

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This is what I needed today! 😩

linguine

pairing — sugar daddy!andy barber x sugar baby!fem!reader

summary — a drunken and unexpected confession. leading to silent treatments. angst. and another unexpected confession.

warnings — angst. daddy kink. dom!andy. sub!reader. fluff. slight smut. mention of fingering. mention of thigh riding.

wordcount — 3.200 words

authors note — part of the pasta collection. collaboration with @gremlin-girly. shout-out to @writing-for-marvel for proofreading! linguine for love confession.

pasta collection

“You know, we should talk about that, honey,” Andy murmurs as he leans backwards. His lower back rests against the counter behind him as he looks at you.

Intensely.

You huff slightly, shaking your head. Meanwhile, you poke your fork into the scrambled eggs on your plate.

Scrambled eggs he makes for you. Only for you.

As he always does. Making breakfast so you won’t just skip it.

“Honey,” Andy says with more authority in his voice. Low. Almost a warning tone.

Both of you know what he's talking about. And yet, you refuse to start a conversation with him. At least as long as he tries to bring up that topic.

Andy sighs. Heavily.

“So, you just want to sit here and ignore me?” Andy asks, clearly annoyed by your behavior and refusal.

He takes another deep breath, crossing his thick arms in front of his muscular chest. The action only causes the muscles to bulge, his t-shirt fitting tighter around him. Hugging his body just right.

He tries to stay calm. He really does.

But you're testing his patience. And even though he tries to stay calm, he can't help but feel his annoyance growing slowly.

Those special three words. They slipped past your lips last night.

First he wasn’t sure if he heard you right. But when the realization hit him like a freight train, he wanted to know how much you meant it.

If it was just in the heat of the moment. Or if those words meant more than emptiness.

“It was in the heat of the moment. I was drunk and I couldn’t think straight,” you try. Though, you know he won't buy it with how your voice shakes and you avoid eye contact.

Of course he won’t buy it.

Andy knows you. And unfortunately, he can read you like an open book.

In every other situation you would have loved it. But at that very moment, you absolutely hate it.

“Try again. Maybe more convincing,” he says, his voice rougher than before.

Andy watches your evasive gaze. The way you push the eggs over your plate but don’t even care about eating it.

He crosses his legs slowly, waiting for you to respond to him.

“I-it was the—”

“No,” he interrupts you. He can see straight through you.

You would come up with the same lame excuse. But you wouldn’t mean it.

Not when you’re unable to look at him. It doesn’t have to be eye contact, but you're not even glancing at him. Not even in the slightest.

“I said try again. Not repeat your words and give me that shit of an excuse again. Because I understood what you said. Damn well,” he huffs, shaking his head slightly.

Disappointed at you.

“Now. Try. Again.”

You stay quiet. Head lowering even more.

The scrambled eggs are way more interesting than anything else. Even if you just push them from one side to the other, off the plate or just poke at them.

As long as you avoid his stare, his disapproving look, you can’t feel bad. Maybe when you look away long enough he will just let it go and forget about the accident.

Andy hates being lied to. But you still did it. Over and over again, only to hide the truth behind your words. To not face the possible consequences of what you said to him.

“You're just sitting here, and pushing your food around? Giving me the silent treatment, now, honey?” Andy asks, pushing off the counter, leaning over the coutner you’re sitting at instead.

You shrug. Slightly. Almost invisible.

But you stay quiet. Still avoiding his gaze, as well as a conversation with him.

Andy takes a deep, dramatic breath. Holding it in for a moment. Three seconds to be exact. Then he exhales.

“Fine,” he says, pushing away from the counter completely as he turns to leave.

And then he walks away. Out of the kitchen. Out of your sight.

The silence stretches. Thick. Leaving you alone with your running thoughts and your heavy heart.

You swallow the lump in your throat, the food long forgotten. You’re not even hungry anymore, not since he tried to start a conversation.

You just want to run away. And hide from him for a bit.

Hiding all the feelings. All the words you said. And the ones you didn’t say. Maybe just act like it never happened.

You turn around in the chair. He really left the kitchen. Leaving you alone there.

Your thoughts become louder. Screaming. Running. It’s like shouting voices in your mind, trying to be heard. Trying to be the loudest.

Tears burn in your eyes. Slowly rolling down your cheeks as you try to blink them away. Though, they keep escaping the corners of your eyes, leaving wet trails down your cheeks.

‘Fine.’

It’s all he said. He didn’t even try harder to get you to talk to him. He just let it go.

As you wished. But not as he did.

Andy isn’t one who gives up on something. He would even force it out of someone. As long as he gets the answer he’s looking for.

And right now it’s the truth. And an answer.

A true answer. Not some lame excuse.

But maybe you fucked it up. Badly.

You push the chair back, slipping off it to walk around the counter. With one hand on the edge of the plate you slide it over the counter.

Throwing away all the scrambled eggs you didn’t eat, and placing the plate and fork in the dishwasher, you sigh. Heavy. Deep.

It’s quiet. Too quiet without Andy around.

Usually you would hear the television. Or Andy talking on the phone when he’s working from home. Or he would talk to you.

But it’s never as quiet as now. No voices. No noises except your breathing. And your heart is thrumming in your ears.

Guilt creeps to the surface slowly. Leaving your heart heavy and hurt. Broken into pieces.

Broken in a way only Andy managed to fix. With nothing but his presence. With his care and attention. The softness he’s showing you takes away all the fears and doubts, leaving you bare and happy with him. And especially for him.

“Andy?” You whisper into the room, too afraid to cut through the silence. Though, you know he won’t hear you when he's not in the hallway, and you're pretty sure he isn’t.

And yet, you try it anyway. Hoping to get a reaction from him. Or to get him to make a noise.

No response. Of course.

You swallow the hurt that bubbles up. The pain you caused him. Only because you’re afraid to say the truth out loud.

He might be the one for you. But you’re too scared to admit it to him.

Maybe you’re not the one for him. And if you say your feelings out loud, they will be real. They will make you vulnerable.

If you don’t say them out loud, he doesn’t know. He can’t reject you. He can’t push you away.

But Andy also can’t tell you the way he feels. If he even does feel anything except disappointment and hate toward you now.

But where did he actually go? You didn’t hear the front door opening. Not closing.

So he still has to be in the house.

Or maybe you were too lost in your thoughts to even notice him walking through the front door. Or the clinging of his keys, his shoes or jacket.

You stop in your tracks, holding your breath.

Then you hear it. It’s like a whistle in the air. But you notice it.

The faint movement of something upstairs. Footsteps. Quiet and careful.

It has to be Andy. Hopefully. Probably.

Then again. More footsteps. Louder this time, followed by a slight crack.

A crack too familiar. The door of your wardrobe sounds exactly like that when you open it.

Is he packing your stuff so he can throw you out of his house?

Andy barely walks into your room. He said it's yours. Your safe space. Your place.

At least for the time you’re living at his house while the apartment you were living it gets renovated after it got flooded. And since your arrangement with Andy, and the constant meetings, he offered you to move in with him.

His house is big enough. You both have your own spaces but still can do things together.

And he has you around for every meeting and dinner he needs you at. Plus, Andy can spoil you easier like that, taking you on shopping trips.

Sometimes he only has to walk past you or sit next to you and you show him things online. You don’t even ask for them, he gets them for you anyway.

You’re his. His honey. And he loves to spoil you as much as he can, as much as you allow him to.

It's because of the arrangement, is what you tell yourself.

But the truth is: the arrangement went further than you both thought when you started it.

At first it was easy. You go out with him for business meetings. A few evenings or afternoons where you were just relaxing with him. And he will pay for it.

As well as for your apartment. For your needs. And whatever you were looking at and wanted to have. He provided it, without any questions or judgments.

And then the sex sneaked its way into your relationship with Andy.

Late nights with romance movies or sometimes action movies. They led to cuddles and kisses until the two of you ended up in his bed.

It was still easy. It was just sex. No meaning behind it.

Andy even offered to see it as a one time thing.

Instead, the two of you just added it to your contract. More or less. Not officially, but you both agreed that having some fun isn’t bad.

Until it changed. Until it became bad.

Last night to be exact.

Last night when you came home drunk. After a party with your friends you sneaked back into the house, trying to get to your room before he noticed.

You were supposed to be home by one in the morning. But it was way past three when you came back.

Andy was waiting, though. That typical dad glare on his face as he sat on the couch with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Followed by a lecture of his and a glass of water, before he tugged you into your bed.

Or at least he tried.

Because he only managed to sit down on the edge of the bed with you straddling his lap. Rubbing yourself on his thigh, moaning into his ear and begging for him to make you cum.

To make you his good girl while he plays with you.

The continuous rubbing of your slick panties along his sweatpants left a dark mark on the fabric.

The grip on your hips was tight, trying to stop your movements but he couldn’t deny you completely. He never could.

And he probably will never be able to deny you anything when you beg in that sweet voice of yours.

Plus you weren’t drunk out of your mind. So, he let his hand slip down between your body’s so he was able to rub your clit in slow but steady circles.

And when he pushed you to the edge, over and over again, he stopped. Not allowing you to come, instead he left you begging. Like he’s used to.

You suddenly confessed something that made you both stop in your tracks.

‘Fu-fuck, daddy! I-I love you.’

You pushed yourself off his lap. Stumbling out of the room, you locked yourself in the bathroom until you were sure that Andy was already in bed.

Only then did you go to bed too. Knowing he would try to bring the topic up later. But you hoped he might forget about it or try to act like it didn’t happen.

Just, he didn’t forget, nor pretended that it never happened.

You walk out of the kitchen, slowly up the stairs. Your heart thrumming in your chest, your breath quickens when anxiety builds in your chest. In your stomach.

You’re not even sure how to approach Andy. But you need to. One way or the other. You need to know if he’s going to throw you out or break the contract. Maybe he’s even doing both.

When you hear him huffing and shuffling, your chest clenches. Fear grows in the pit of your stomach.

You shouldn’t have said all that. You shouldn’t have ignored him, but facing him with the truth wasn’t an option either.

“A-Andy?” You ask quietly when you stop in the doorframe.

You look everywhere but him. Too afraid to see the anger on his face. The disappointment.

Your fingers are shaking as you play with the hem of your shirt. Shifting from one foot to the other.

His head snaps toward you. His eyes widen for a moment. He didn’t hear you walking upstairs, nor walking into the room.

For a moment you let your eyes wander over his frame, still avoiding looking into his face, though.

Andy holds a pair of your panties in his calluses hands. Neatly fold.

You swallow harshly, shifting once more. The lump in your throat grows with every passing moment. The silence thick in the air.

Andy’s focus is completely on you. His ocean blue eyes roaming your face as he waits for you to speak up.

But you don’t. You only shift back and forth. From one foot to the other. Before you scratch your toes along the hardwood floor.

A habit you have. Especially when you’re nervous. It’s one of the first he picked up on.

He takes a slow but deep breath, taking in the furrow of your brows. And that cute crinkle that forms on your forehead when you’re concentrated, unsure or mad.

But this time it isn’t madness. Or any kind of anger. It isn’t even confusion or concentration.

It was concern. Worry. Maybe even fear.

“Yes, honey?” He interrupts your running thoughts and breaks the silence when he notes that you’re too lost in your thoughts to keep talking. “You didn’t come upstairs to say my name, did you?”

You shake your head slightly. Tears well up in your eyes. You try to blink them away before he notices them.

You don't want to look pathetic. Or get his pity because you're crying.

Andy shouldn’t comfort you if he doesn’t really want to.

“D-do you—” you take a shaky breath, pulling at the hem of your shirt. “Are you throwing me out?”

Andy’s eyes widen. Really widen in confusion at your words.

“What?” He asks, titling his head like he doesn’t quite understand what you said. He must have heard you wrong.

His blue eyes roam through the room, then back toward you and he shakes his head.

There’s no indication that he wants you out of his house. He didn’t mention or say anything like that, nor did he think about it.

Andy didn’t do anything that would give you a reason to think that he's going to throw you out of his house.

“You really have that little trust in me? Of course, not. How did you even get that idea?” Andy asks, as he sits down on the edge of your nearly made bed.

“Y-you just left the kitchen. And you-you’re in here and uhm—” you start, looking at your wardrobe and at Andy as you try to piece the puzzle together. “Taking my clothes out of the wardrobe?”

You frown further. There’s a piece of your puzzle missing. The most important: what is he even doing if not throwing you out?

“You ignored me,” he states, his voice soft as he keeps talking. “Doesn’t make much sense to push you. I know you, honey, you don’t talk, not even under pressure.”

You nod. He’s right.

Sometimes — most of the time — pressure only makes you shut out everyone even more.

“And you're not a case of mine. I might be enforcing and pressuring during work, but not with you. You’re my girl,” Andy explains, his eyes holding yours. His expression tender and loving as he speaks. “And I'm putting away your freshly cleaned clothes. I wanted to keep myself busy until you're willing to talk to me about what you said last night. Not some lame lies, but the truth.”

Andy pats his thick thighs. He hopes you listen to him, but also knows that you may refuse to sit down on his lap.

But you push yourself off the door frame after a moment. A moment that you needed to consider his words, let them sink in.

You take a few steps closer until you're standing in front of him.

When you’re about to lower yourself between his thighs he stops you by placing both of his calloused hands on your waist, shaking his head slightly.

“No. Not yet, honey,” he mutters, pulling you into his lap so you straddle him. “It’s not about dominance right now. Though, I might spank that pretty ass of yours later for lying and ignoring me. But right now I just want to talk about last night.”

You whimper at his words. You don't fear spankings, you love him. Even when he's delivering a hard spanking until you’re crying and begging him.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, shifting in his lap.

Andy’s hands remain steady around your waist to keep you from moving too much.

“I know. Did you mean it?” He asks, his eyes soft and holding a warmth only Andy can provide.

You nod. Your eyes moving away from him to not have to see the hate and anger in them at your admission.

“No… no, you don’t get to look away, honey,” he mutters, bringing one of his hands to your chin. His fingers curl underneath to tip your head back.

“I-I didn’t mean too. I’m sorry, I-I didn’t want to ruin anything,” you whisper, tears burning in your eyes once more.

If you could take those words back, you would. Maybe. Saying them out loud took away some of the pressure you carried around because of the feelings lingering in your heart and gut.

“Honey,” Andy mutters, his thumb brushing over your cheek to wipe away the tears. “You didn’t ruin anything. I just needed to know that the feelings aren't one sided.”

You gasp. Then you narrow your eyes.

Hope. Confusion. It all comes together in your mind.

Did he just say he loves you too?

“Huh?” You blurt out, earning a pinch to your thigh from him. “I-I… I don't understand, Andy.”

“I love you, too. I didn’t want to be a creep, but hearing you say that last night... I wasn’t sure if you meant it, I hoped you did,” he mutters, leaning closer until your lips are only a few inches away from yours. “It’s gonna be so much fun to spank that bratty little ass and get the surplus energy out of us.”

comment and reblog to support content creators. divider made by @/saradika-graphics.

taglist — @ballorawan740 @phineas-is-chaos @princesschyanne @sergeantbarnessdoll @thenameswinter99 @carlossainzapologist @multiversefanfics @rogersbarber (added cevans characters so if you don’t wanna be tagged in these please let me know)

#andy barber x reader #andy barber #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x y/n #Andy barber x reader smut #Andy barber x reader fluff #Andy barber smut #Andy barber fluff #Andy barber x fem!reader #Andy barber x fem reader #chris evans characters #chris evans character fanfiction

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