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peanutalergy · 3 months ago

Note

would you write something where Spencer finds reader's lost cat and brings it back to her then they keep in touch + they both develop a little crush on each other?

your writing is wonderful!! <3

-🪲

tags: fluff fluff fluff but there's making out (?) idk if that counts as anything; also lots of cursing lowkey; reader is lowk penelope garcia coded

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: tysm for the req that's an adorable idea unfortunately not such great execution from my part also I wrote this in like an hour I'm so exhausted I should go to sleep but whatever I also don't know if this what you meant anon I'm sorry if it's not 😭 yeah I hate this sorry idk what to say it sucks

MISSING CAT

orange, green eyed, really chubby cat, last seen at ~3:30pm on november 9th. he will answer to garfield or little fucker; most likely the latter, despite that not being his name. he's very clingy, he’ll probably come up to you and start rubbing on your leg like the little freak he is but he's actually just a baby who needs his mom (me) so please call this number if you find him.

reward: $10 and a kiss maybe if you’re nice enough

spencer chuckled when he reached the end of the text and saw the adorable picture of a ginger fat cat. he read over the number on the poster, making sure to keep it stored in a folder at the back of his head along with the image of garfield as he returned to his walk.

not even an hour later, when walking past a not-so-nice smelling trash can, he heard some loud purring coming from one of the boxes surrounding it.

if it were any other day, he would have ignored it, guessing it's just another stray cat, but he was still thinking about garfield and his seemingly interesting owner.

“garfield…?” spencer called out from afar. silence. he took a few steps closer, trying to peek over the box while keeping his distance so as to avoid getting jumped at and attacked. “little… fucker…?” he choked over the nickname.

immediately, the animal that had been in his mind since seeing his picture jumped out of the box, purring louder as he started rubbing on spencer’s legs. he chuckled despite being scared.

garfield wasn't nearly as well kept then as he was in the picture, due to the days he had been on the streets. still chubby, but dirty and with a few patches of dried blood in his fur. spencer tried to move away, seeing his pants getting smudged, but the cat just started following him.

spencer pulled out his phone and started dialing the number seen on the poster, still trying to avoid the animal. after a few rings, you picked up.

“hello?...”

“hi, is this garfield’s, uh… owner?”

“yeah, why? have you found him...?”

“i think i did, yeah.”

“oh my god, wait, actually? is he okay? are you serious?” you mumbled excitedly, sitting up from the position you were comfortably lying in, the show on your tv already forgotten.

“i am serious, yeah. i'm just out on a walk, and, uh… he was in a box near a trash can. he's all dirty and bloody, but he seems okay.”

“my poor baby” you said with a pout “where are you? wait– who are you? who do i owe my son’s life to? my savior, my hero?”

“oh, i’m just… just spencer, really.” he said with an awkward chuckle, giving in and leaning down to caress the cat, who immediately leans into his hands as if he's never been pet before, “spencer reid.”

“mm, cool. anyway, where are you? i’m going to pick him up. tell him mommy’s coming. actually maybe don't. don't refer to me as mommy, please.”

“uh, well, i wouldn't mind dropping him off at your place, if you want.”

“i thought you were on a walk? you're gonna walk all the way to my apartment with that fucker in your arms?”

“yeah, so… yeah, actually. does he… is he fine with being carried?”

“oh, totally, he loves uppies, but it's–”

“sorry, what? uppies??” he cut you off, confusion and disbelief clear in his voice.

“yeah…? uppies… like… when you carry an animal? in your arms?...” a bleach and tone, like???

“oh, okay…”

“yeah, so, he loves uppies. but it's just inconvenient, no? carrying him like that? where even are you, dude? is it not far?”

after you tell him your address, spencer decided it's close enough to walk there with an overweight cat in his arms. however, when he took forty minutes to show up at your door, panting and sweaty, you realized that probably wasn't a good idea.

“jesus, man, you could've just said you can't walk that long with this fucker.” you said as you opened the door, letting him in and taking the cat in your arms, talking to him in that tiny, baby voice. “oh my god, my baby, thank you so much. you poor thing. where were you, sweetheart? i missed you so so so much…”

spencer stood awkwardly in the doorway, wiping away the dirt that the animal left in his shirt, as you kept mumbling to him.

it must have been around another half hour before you set him down on the ground again, but when you did so, you looked at spencer and gasped, “oh, where are my manners? i'm so sorry, i forgot you were there. come in, jesus, come on in.”

he walked in, and after offering him a glass of water, you led him to sit on the couch. settling awkwardly beside you, he said “so, uh… is he alright? hurt..?”

“no, he's okay. i mean, as far as i can tell. not a vet, or anything. i don't think the blood is his… although that doesn't make it any less worrying. i'll give his vet a call. maybe stop by the clinic. yeah, i should probably stop by the clinic, shouldn't i?”

“yeah, probably. does he have all his vaccines?”

“of course.”

“still, there's a chance he would have caught a disease or eaten something that could have been infected. it's always good to make sure.”

“yeah, i know. i’ll give them a call, see if they can see us today.” you said, to which spencer replied with a nod, the two of you falling silent for a moment. “oh, right, the reward.”

you stood up and walked to the table, taking your wallet and a $10 bill from it. “there's no need, really… it's okay. don't worry about it” he argued, shaking his head when you offered him the money.

“no, oh my god, no, this is the least i can do. you walked so far, with that little heavy fucker. please, just take this. actually, you deserve more. i can barely handle to hold him for more than a few minutes, i'm not sure how you–” you look him up and down “–managed to walk with him for so long. just take the money.” you mumble, taking another bill from your wallet and handing it to him.

"no, no, really, it's fine, i swear."

"no, stop it. you're not leaving until you take this money."

he took it with a scoff, seeing how you won't take no for an answer.

“i should give you the other part of the reward, too.” you said with a chuckle as you sat back down beside him.

“what, the kiss?” he stammered, shaking his head as his face goes red and his eyes widened slightly.

“yeah, you want it?” he started stuttering when you said that, so before he got a proper word out, you added “nah, man, i'm just joking. i put that there to be funny, i'd never kiss a stranger like that.”

“oh, yeah, that… that makes sense.” he laughed shyly, nodding.

the cat showed up again, and you went back to talking about him, until spencer decided it's time to go home, which was only around a few hours later.

now, you're not sure when that turned into what it is now, but you're glad it did.

maybe it was the day after that, when you took garfield to the groomers, and sent spencer a picture of him when he got home, wearing the cute tie they always give him.

maybe it was when you started sending every picture you took of garfield to spencer.

or maybe it was when you started talking about things unrelated to the animal.

you're not sure. but now, spencer reid is at your place again, wearing a colorful hat and singing happy birthday to your cat.

of course, he's the only other person at the party. he's the only friend you were certain would show up. and that he did, after rambling about how the cat didn’t even know it was his birthday.

“woo hoo!! happy birthday, baby!” you exclaim when the song is over, taking the cat in your arms and giving him kisses.

“yay, happy birthday, garfield!” he says with a chuckle, petting him.

as soon as he starts getting fussy, though, you put him back down on the ground with a giggle, “yeah, yeah, off you go.”

“i did tell you he doesn't know the date he was born in.”

“well, yeah, but at least he's getting plenty of treats.” you shrug as you throw yourself on the sofa along with spencer, taking off the birthday hats and tossing them to the side. “he knows he's loved.”

“i'm sure he does” he mumbles, smiling at you softly.

“thanks, by the way” you mutter after a beat, turning to him and giving him a nod.

“for what?”

“finding him.”

“that was ages ago, you've thanked me 63 times since then.” he says with a laugh.

“it's not enough, though. he's a stupid little cat, i doubt he would have survived more time out there. you saved his life, probably.”

he nods, staying quiet for another moment.

“y'know, there is one way you could thank me.”

“yeah…?” you already know what he's talking about, he already knows that you already know. the blush in his cheeks that showed up as he said that, his fidgety fingers, the way he started avoiding your gaze.

“the, uhm… the other part of the reward…”

you'd tease him, make him actually say it, if it weren't for how anxious he looks. it physically hurts, how awkward he is.

so instead, you move your hands to his shoulders as you lean in to press your lips to his. for a second, you're scared this isn't what he was talking about. you're wondering if you've just screwed up a friendship, until he moves a shy hand up to your face.

he feels scared, at first. he holds your jaw, fingers gently tangling in your hair as he hesitantly kisses you. but when a moment goes by like that, and you move to sit on his lap, straddling his hips, it's like something within him changes.

he starts kissing you like you're the first and last thing he'll ever touch, his hands roaming down your body as he slides his tongue into your mouth. he bites and sucks at your bottom lip while his arms wrap around your waist, and your own arms go around his neck.

but a man can't live only off of his beloved’s lips. unfortunately, humans do need oxygen. so when he needs to pull away to breathe, he does so with a groan.

panting, you stare at each other with a smile, and pressing one quick peck to his lips, you whisper, “thank you.”

"no, thank you.”

#fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfic #love u #🪲#my stuff

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pretty-little-mind33 · 19 days ago

Text

James Potter x Slytherin!fem!reader

Summary: Being friends with benefits with James Potter isn't all you want, it just takes you a while to come to terms with that reality.

Genre: a mix of everything

Warnings: reader and James are 18, suggestive, sex, friends with benefits, misunderstanding trope, reader and James are both delusional lol, reader is stubborn and headstrong, James x Lily, hint of enemies to lovers

ask: [...] like give me the angst of wanting to be detached but feeling insecure when you see him with someone else (or vice versa) or the hurt comfort where you both start to fall for each other but don’t know how to deal with it!

~ thank you for requesting my dear 🫀anon. Sorry this took forever ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

When the four infamous Gryffindors saunter into the Common Room to attend one of the Slytherin parties, no one is surprised, at least not since Sirius and Regulus Black reconciled their differences.

Tonight is Regulus's 17th birthday, which meant Sirius had made James promise he would be on his best behavior.

However, the latter doesn't seem to be doing a good job as his eyes are trained on Severus Snape and Lily Evans, who are standing much too close for his liking. James downs his fourth fire-whiskey and turns to Remus, shaking his head drunkenly.

"What a pompous prick," he slurs, his cheeks turning pinker. The collar of his chemise is overturned and Remus sighs, fixes it for his best friend.

"He isn't hurting anyone," Remus mutters.

James rolls his sharp hazel eyes, glaring at the couple in the corner. He hates how Lily laughs at whatever stupid joke he's telling her. He hates how happy she looks with someone who isn't him. Ever since their break up a few months ago, James's patience with Severus has been almost non-existent.

He walks forward, his shoulders squared, and walks right into you.

His drink spills all over your blouse, causing you to gasp.

"Sorry," James grumbles but he doesn't even glance your way as his gaze remains fixated on Lily.

You snap your head up, glaring at him. You feel embarrassed as James's drink is sticky. He doesn't seem to care as struts over, successfully breaking up Lily and Severus' conversation, and leaving you alone. Your gaze narrows.

"You good?" Daniel, the guy you've liked for a while, asks, coming up behind you as he returns from the loo. You don't answer him, simply watching as James embarrasses himself and shoves Severus away. "He's a twat, even outside the pitch," Daniel grunts, crossing his arms and sending James a dark look.

You knew of his rivalry with James Potter but honestly, you couldn't care less at that moment. All that matters is that Daniel's attention is on you as he inspects your blouse. You shrug. "He's a dick. C'mon,"

You lead Daniel up the stairs, to a secluded corner near the dormitories. Daniel leans against the wall, frowning a little as he senses your hand slide up his chest and your lips hover close to his neck. He catches your wrist and laughs, his gaze sharp on yours.

"You're joking, right? 'M not gonna sleep with you, Y/l/n. You're not that kind of girl."

You snatch your hand away from him, an expression of hurt spreading across your features. "I'm not what kind of girl?" you ask, narrowing your gaze at him. Daniel's eyes watery from his laughter and you feel even more stupid.

"The kind you sleep with," Daniel shrugs, "It's not a bad thing, let's go back to the party,"

"Do you not think I'm pretty?" you interrupt, the drinks you'd had rushing to your head as your eyes narrow. When David looks like he could burst into laughter again, you don't give him much time to explain himself as you run up the stairs to your dorm.

You've never felt as stupid as you do now. You slam your door shut, collapsing onto your bed as you hug your pillow. Tears threaten to spill but you don't let them. Daniel McLaggen can fuck himself.

You're the kind of girl someone fucks.

You are.

Wiping your tears, you stand and rush down to the Common Room again. This time, you simply walk by Daniel and you don't even bother turning to see his expression when you brush him off as you make a beeline towards someone who you wouldn't have even considered otherwise.

You only think of him because of Daniel's previous words.

James Potter stands to the side now, having been pulled away by Remus, still fuming. Without thinking you walk up to him. He turns his gaze, his eyebrows creasing.

"Can I help–"

"Can I kiss you?" you blurt out, cheeks burning. You needed to ask. You couldn't just ambush him without consent. Still, James looks just as shocked as he would have if you'd simply kissed him. His jaw falls open and he clears his throat.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he asks, uncharacteristically nervous.

You shake your head, resisting the urge to make sure Daniel is watching. You keep your eyes on James. "It might make Lily Evans jealous," you try and convince him, although you aren't even sure if she'd care.

James thinks abut it for a moment.

"Oh, well, okay, sure," James says with a small nod and you move closer, wrapping your hand around his tie. Without wasting time, you pull him into you and crash your lips onto his. He tastes like fire-whiskey and raspberry pastries but you don't care. You move your hand to his hair, tighten your fingers in his curls, lips moving in sync with his. Once James kisses you back, his hands find your hips and he holds you steady.

He's a pretty damn good kisser.

Soon, one thing leads to another and you wake up in his dorm room. Your clothes are scattered around the floor. Thank Merlin he's Head Boy or you'd have his roommates to worry about. James is still sleeping, his arm tucked under his pillow as he snores lightly.

Sitting up, you hold the sheets over your naked body as the events of last night play in your mind. You look at James, biting the inside of your cheek. You shouldn't have taken things this far. All to prove yourself to some arsehole? No, this shouldn't have happened.

Your gaze softens. James looks so peaceful in his lip. You resist the urge to touch his hair.

Cursing, you promise yourself it will never happen again as you sneak out of his room.

And still, week after week you find yourself twisted in his sheets again and again.

Turns out, fucking around with James Potter is addictive.

* * * Four Months Later * * *

"Hiya, love," James announces happily, plopping himself onto the chair in front of yours in the library. He's loud so you shush him, your finger pressed to his lips as he leans forward over the small desk. You don't look up from your book. You need to pass Potions and you don't have time for distractions.

James smirks against your finger. "Whatcha workin' on?"

"An essay, now be quiet, you're annoying me."

James laughs and lays his head on his arm, his dark curls falling over his features as he draws small little hearts near your hand as you write. He's teasing you on purpose. Looking up, you narrow your gaze. "What's your problem, James?"

"Are you coming over tonight?"

The question causes you to flush and you look away, focusing on your essay again. You think for a moment, letting his words wash over you. It is Thursday, meaning you usually meet him in his dorm. Your cheeks burn.

"Hmm," you nod and then push his hand away, "now bugger off, you're being such a knob." You keep your voice calm and steady, knowing James has too much power over you.

In all honesty, you're still not used to this; being friends with benefits with James Fucking Potter. You're barely friends, it's mostly all benefits, or at least that is what you like to think. It makes the situation so much easier when you're riding him in his room and he's muttering praises in your ear.

It helps keep the lines clear.

Lines that James loves to blur.

That evening as he snaps your bra open and presses kisses on your chest and stomach, he makes conversation; "Will you come to my game tomorrow?" he asks hopefully, still kissing you.

You gasp, arching and running your hand in his hair as you lean into his mouth. "U-um, yeah–sure."

He pulls away and sends you an adorably stern look. "I'm being serious. Please come. I want you there."

Your chest rises and falls as you gently rock your hips against him. "I said I would," you whisper, annoyance lacing your tone. James senses your frustration and smirks. He leans forward and wraps his strong arms around your back, attaching his lips to your nipples.

"Good," he says with a devilish smirk.

You moan in response.

You didn't think you would actually go. Going to support James, the Captain of the Gryffindor team as a Slytherin, was too close to girlfriend activities for your liking. Plus, you'd stopped trying to make Daniel jealous months ago so there was no reason to be there.

Only, James asked you and in the moment, that seems reason enough.

The game is loud and you feel a little awkward sitting in the Gryffindor section instead of the Slytherin one. James's friends are rambunctious and one practically bumps into you as he cheers loudly. You move closer to the balcony edge, leaning against it as you focus on the game.

Your eyes drift to a familiar figure in the distance. He's holding the quaffle under his arm, his dark hair is even messier than it usually is and he's clearly an experienced flyer. He throws the quaffle into the hoop and scores. Cheers erupt around you and you straighten up, a small smile forming on your lip. James does some, obnoxious, victory flips and your smile can't help but grow.

Instantly, you feel embarrassed and you control your smile. You shouldn't be smiling so hard at James Potter. Your heart is pounding and unwanted thoughts swirl into your mind. You spend the rest of the game pretending you're not looking at James.

Once the game ends, you wander around the Gryffindor Common Room at the after party. You'd promised yourself you would congratulate James and then leave immediately. Only you've been in aimlessly wandering around for thirty minutes and you still haven't found him. You're beginning to become annoyed.

Where the fuck is he?

Finally, you turn a corner and see him. Well, you see his back, but that's unmistakably his jersey. You open your mouth to call his name as you walk forward but your voice dies in your throat. Someone's hands are in his hair. Your heart sinks and you suddenly feel like throwing up.

James twists his body as the girl comes into view. Your nose scrunches in disgust. Lily Evans? Why is Lily Evans kissing your James? Just as the thought pops into your mind, another wave of nausea washes over you. James isn't yours. If anything, he'd only been passing time with you when he wanted Lily back all along.

Your breathing is labored as you watch Lily kiss him.

No. This is so wrong. You shouldn't be crying over him.

You back up, turn around and rush out the door before James or Lily could see you. You wipe at your tears, focusing on anger instead of sadness.

Fuck this.

* * *

James hasn't seen you in three days and he's becoming worried. You haven't answered any of his Owls, you crumple up any note he writes to you in class, and you avoid him outside of classes.

He doesn't understand what he did wrong.

He'd waited up for you after his game. He'd had this entire speech planned, some stupid, love-sick confession of his feelings, and yet, you never even showed up. He wants to be angry with you but he can't bring himself to be. He can never stay angry with you even when he tries.

However, it seems like you're angry with him because when he coincidentally sees you on your way to Honeydukes and he calls your name, you spin around and glare at him. "Leave me alone, Potter," you spit and that wild look he usually loves so much, now scares him a little. Still, he runs up and his hand brushes your arm.

You turn around again and shove him. With a thud, James falls to the ground. He hadn't expected you to push him and he lost his balance on the mud from the morning rain. "Oi, bloody hell, woman! What is your problem?"

You're standing over him now and you look furious.

"You're my problem!"

"Me?" James scrambles up, dusting the dirt from his jeans. He looks at his Converse and they're covered in mud. Great. He looks back up, an expression of hurt obvious on his face. He doesn't have time to worry about his shoes when you're this upset. "I don't understand! What did I do?"

You're breathing heavily, your gaze locked onto his. The truth is too hard to admit.

"Just, leave me alone," you snarl again, turning back around. James catches your wrist and turns you towards him once more. You're a little surprised but you don't push him or pull away. Instead, the air around you both feels thicker.

"I like you," James blurts out.

Your chest tightens so much it hurts.

"Don't lie to me," you say, your voice hoarse.

James looks flabbergasted and he moves forward, taking your other hand in his. "What? I'm not lying. I wanted to tell you after my game but you never came—"

"I did come, you tosser!" you snap and James's brown eyes widen. You've never looked more beautiful, even if you do look like you want to kill him. You push your index into his chest. "I came to the game and I saw you play and I even stayed afterward like an idiot because I wanted to see you. And you know what I saw?"

James shakes his head. He's a little petrified.

"I saw you kissing Lily Evans. Lily Evans of all people! And what's worse is that I shouldn't have been surprised because it was always her. I should have known—"

James blinks and out of all the things he could have said, the only thing that slips from his mouth is, "Y/n. Did you listen to anything I just said?"

That only angers you more because you look like a vein on your forehead could pop at any moment. "What?! James, did you just listen to what I just said?!"

"I never kissed Lily. She kissed me," James says matter-of-factly and then leans in so his face is close to yours. "Now what did I say?"

"That isn't how that works! You both kissed!"

"Nope. I did not. Now, what did I say?!"

"Don't patronize me," you hiss.

"Y/n."

"You said you like me but—"

James places his index on your lips, cracking a small smile. "Exactly. I like you, not Lily. I told her as much after she kissed me. She means nothing to me anymore. My heart belongs to you and only you."

Your lips part under James's finger, your eyes still wide and a little glossy. His words swirl in your chest, warm and so so dangerous. "You're such an idiot," you whisper against him, his confession finally sinking in. You push him away. "I don't believe you. Why should I believe you!?"

"Because it's the truth. You drive me crazy." James moves his hand and cups your cheek. He's staring at you now like you're the only person in the world who matters. You feel like he's stared at you like this before, you just never knew what it meant.

James moves a little closer, his large hands framing your face. "I have felt like this for months. Months. And I've been meaning to tell you. I like you. I want you. Not just in my bed as a passing fancy, not to make anyone jealous, but just because I want you."

Your heart catches in your throat, and you know you should say something—anything—but instead, all your defenses come crumbling down as you crash your lips into his and kiss him.

James responds instantly, hands curling around your waist as he lifts you slightly off the ground and hugs you, his lips still on yours.

Once you finally break apart, his forehead finds yours, and he mutters, "So, does this mean we can finally be done pretending we're just casual now?"

You scoff. "Is that what we were doing?"

James smiles, his dimples appearing as he nuzzles his nose into yours. "Mm, it was," he whispers.

You smile gently. "It suppose was, wasn't it?"

He leans in and kisses you again, smiling against your mouth. "I'm yours. If you'll have me. I am completely and wholeheartedly yours."

"Does that mean you promise to stop being such a knob sometimes," you say and shoot him a pretend annoyed look, keeping him close.

James grins. He raises an eyebrow and wiggles it playfully. "No promises," he teases but he leans in and kisses you again, a silent promise. A promise that he loves you, he loves you more than anything.

#🫀 anon #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter fanfic #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #james potter hurt/comfort #marauder james potter #the marauders james potter #the marauders era #aaron taylor johnson #james potter imagines #james potter smut-ish

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irisintheafterglow · 5 months ago

Text

itoshi rin doesn't get injuries. ever.

he's downright religious about stretching, warming up properly, and being aware of how his body is holding up under the intense conditions of a match. he keeps a strict diet, an even stricter sleeping schedule, and pops enough vitamins and supplements to make his immune system work at 200%. but, when stupidly lukewarm isagi misplaces his stupidly lukewarm foot, rin ends up rolling his ankle harder than a bowling ball slammed down a lane. he doesn't react immediately to the lightning bolt of pain that shoots up his calf, only sending isagi a withering glare and continuing to rush the opposition's net.

like the rest of his team, you don't notice something is wrong until the end of the scrimmage, when rin collapses and curls his upper body around his ankle. his hands clutch the bottom of his leg and he shuts his eyes tight to hold in the frustrated groan he wants to release. the other players approach him and he snarls like a circus tiger, barking at them to leave him be. the same tune is played for the medical team, having no choice but to retreat after he insists he just needs a second to rest. with a deep inhale to prepare, you steel your nerves and walk over to where he sits.

"i said go," he seethes, his forehead resting against his propped knee. his eyes are shut, but he can feel someone standing there, watching him with a pitying look in their eyes. stupid. he gets hurt and suddenly it's poor, poor rin and his poor, poor ankle. it's weakness that he needs to stomp out, weakness that--

"you need to ice that." his eyes open slowly and you catch his walls recede ever so slightly. you always had a no-nonsense kind of relationship with rin, especially as a health analyst-in-training who was the only brave soul that spoke to him among your cohort. there was an unspoken level of respect that you had for him that you assumed he reciprocated, seeing as he always had patience for your long spiels outlining everything to do with his physical wellbeing. he appreciated that you never asked about his mental wellbeing, but sometimes your gut told you that maybe you should.

"i'm fine," he says through gritted teeth and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his melodrama. you bite back your initial retort and instead settle on the turf next to him, your legs facing the opposite way so that you're not making direct eye contact. he watches you from the outskirts of his vision, as do the rest of the remaining team on the field, but doesn't deny your company. you let him take a few more breaths before asking your next question.

"what hurts?" any other trainee in your group would immediately be subject to scathing insults about their personality and emotional aptitude. you'd seen it, how he snapped at the trainees that weren't you.

"calf. ankle. inside of my foot," he mumbles, shame evident in his voice. he didn't like appearing weak; he already felt weak living in the shadow of sae. it was something he was constantly fighting against, carrying the sack of weight on his shoulder every game. he waits for you to scoff, to tell him to get over it, but you don't. instead, you hum and refrain from looking at him directly. in a way, it's the indirect conversation that he appreciates the most.

"i'm gonna get you a tennis ball for your ankle. where's your water?"

"back left by the bench." you nod and retrieve both items, returning to him in no time at all. you don't even stop to converse with the other concerned members of the management team, making a beeline back to him like you had no other place to be. "you should go," he says before you sit down again.

you wait for him to elaborate. he doesn't.

"do you want me to?"

he hesitates.

"...no."

"then i'll stay." you sit closer this time, still facing the other direction, but close enough that your arms could brush if he leaned close enough. rin won't admit that he likes the proximity. "i don't need to tell you how to use a tennis ball," you comment and his silence expresses his gratitude. he reaches wordlessly for the ball but you hold it just out of reach. "but, i am gonna force you to drink water before you do anything else."

"i'm not thirsty."

"i don't care," you reply. "you won't get better if you're not hydrated." part of him hates that you're right, that you're sitting here pitying him. but, he takes the bottle from your hand anyway and downs a few sips that turn into large gulps. he didn't realize how parched he'd become. "there. what else can i do?"

"stop pitying me," he scowls without thinking. as much as you like to think he's different when he's with you, there's still times like these when the rage slips out and he snaps. you haven't known him long enough to weather his storms, but you're determined to wait it out and you know he notices. he's too smart not to notice the way your shoulders sag, the way you conveniently look anywhere but in his direction, the way you're fighting every instinct to abandon him to protect yourself. "it's," he forces out, surprising you both, "it's not-i'm not your responsibility. i don't need you to take care of me."

"but do you want me to?"

he hesitates again and turns to look at you completely, detecting no sense of pity or malice or arrogance in your expression. you were there to help him, and you wanted him to trust you. what a foreign feeling.

"yes."

so you continue to sit there with him in silence, running your fingers absentmindedly over the turf as he gently massages his ankle with the tennis ball. you don't question when his shoulder brushes yours for a second, then returns to completely lean against you. when he decides it's time to wash up, he takes your hand and lets you help him off the field, his arm draped around your upper back as you act as his crutch. you later tell him after he's showered that you didn't help him because you pitied him, but because you knew he would be too stubborn to ask for help.

"how are you so sure?"

"because you told me to leave, remember? and who would have helped you if i left? who would you allow to help you?" you don't wait for him to answer and bid him a polite goodbye, leaving his face warm and completely at a loss for words.

he decides that it's not so bad if he gets injured, as long as you're the one sitting on the turf with him after the game.

#look i figured out how to do the cool hexcode gradient thing #shoutout @reddriot's instructions post #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff

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buckysouvenir · 11 days ago

Text

i'm not sick You weren’t going to let a stupid cold defeat you in front of Bucky freaking Barnes.

You weren’t sick.

No matter what Bucky Barnes said — no matter how smugly he leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed and a knowing look in his stupidly handsome face — you were not sick.

You cleared your throat (quietly, strategically), rolled your shoulders, and tightened the sleeves of your hoodie. “I’m fine.”

“You sound like a broken air conditioner,” he said, biting back a smirk. “One of those ones in a cheap motel.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“It means,” Bucky said, pushing off the counter and walking toward you with that annoyingly smooth super soldier stride, “you’re wheezing. And sniffling. And doing that thing where your eyes look too shiny, like a cartoon character about to cry.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m not wheezing.”

“You are wheezing.”

You turned your back on him and made your way to the living room, grabbing the stack of mission reports Fury wanted reviewed and flopping onto the couch. You were fine. You could do this. You weren’t going to let a stupid cold defeat you in front of Bucky freaking Barnes.

Especially when he never — never — got sick.

Not once since you’d known him. Not a sneeze, not a sniffle, not even a yawn from exhaustion. Super soldier serum, enhanced immune system, annoyingly superior biology — he was basically a walking health commercial.

So no, you refused to show weakness. Even as your head pounded, your throat scratched like sandpaper, and your body screamed for a blanket and twelve hours of sleep.

You were fine.

You were not fine.

You were in fact, so not fine, that the moment you tried to sit up too fast from the couch, the world tipped sideways.

And Bucky caught you. Instinctively. Like he always did.

“Whoa, whoa— hey.” His hands settled on your shoulders, steadying you. “Alright, that’s it.”

“I’m—” You paused to cough into your elbow. “I’m fine.”

His eyebrows lifted in disbelief. “Sweetheart, you just blacked out for a second while holding a paperclip. You looked at it like it insulted your family.”

“Okay,” you croaked. “Maybe I’m a little sick.”

He didn’t say I told you so.

But he did smile like he wanted to.

Bucky didn’t leave your side after that.

He tucked you into bed (and you were too tired to argue, which he clearly took as a victory). He brought you every cold remedy known to man — and a few you suspected were just old Brooklyn traditions, like warm ginger ale and saltines.

He came in with soup — twice.

“Second one has real chicken in it,” he said, placing the bowl beside you. “Not the weird freeze-dried cubes from the first one. I upgraded.”

“Fancy,” you whispered, voice wrecked and scratchy.

He returned with orange juice and a whole bottle of vitamin C gummies.

“You’re supposed to take two a day,” you warned weakly.

“I’m not letting you die from a cold, Y/N,” he said seriously. “I’ll overdose you on vitamins if I have to.”

He even brought flowers.

“You bought me flowers?”

He shrugged, like it was nothing. “Don’t get too excited. They were next to the NyQuil.”

And chocolate.

“You’re bribing me.”

“Yes. So stop looking like you’re going to cry and eat the damn truffle.”

But what really got you — what really made your heart ache — were the kisses.

Soft kisses to your temple when he brought in tea. A gentle brush of lips over your hair when you fell asleep mid-sentence. Little pecks at your forehead while he adjusted your blanket. Sometimes, even kisses on your warm, slightly runny nose, just to make you laugh.

“Bucky,” you croaked once, laughing despite how awful you felt, “you’re gonna catch this.”

He just smirked, leaned in, and kissed you anyway, square on the mouth. “I don’t get sick.”

You blinked at him. “You just kissed me while I have a fever.”

He kissed you again. “Worth it.”

Over the next few days, you faded in and out of sleep while Bucky floated in and out of your room. You felt him brush your hair back, hold your hand, rub your back when you couldn’t stop coughing. Once, you woke up with your head on his chest, his hand gently stroking your arm, slow and steady. You didn’t move. You just melted into it.

There were more kisses. Lazy ones. Sleepy ones. Fevered ones, mostly on your cheek or temple — until you felt a little better and pulled him in for a proper one.

“See?” he whispered against your lips. “Told you I’m indestructible.”

You snorted. “Arrogant.”

“You like it.”

You kinda did.

The quiet, careful Bucky.

Something about the way he stayed — about the way he looked at you like you weren’t a burden — made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with your cold.

Once, you woke to find him dozing at your side, head tilted back against your headboard, his hand still holding yours where it rested on the blanket.

You didn’t let go.

By day five, you were better. Not perfect, but walking upright, able to speak without croaking, and your skin had lost that lovely shade of “slightly dead.”

You found him in the kitchen that morning, making coffee.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said, handing you a mug.

You blinked down at it, then up at him. “Guess I lived.”

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you sip. “Barely. You gave that tissue box a run for its money.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

He tilted his head, voice softer. “Always.”

Maybe it was the warmth in his voice. Maybe it was the way he said always like he meant it — like he’d already decided that looking after you was just part of his life now.

Or maybe it was the fact that his hand found the curve of your waist without thinking, that he pulled you just a little closer, his fingers brushing under the hem of your hoodie to touch skin as if checking for fever.

Whatever it was — it made you rise up on your toes.

And kiss him.

Just a soft one — a quiet brush of lips, no pressure behind it. But when you pulled back, Bucky’s eyes were half-lidded, like he was the one feverish now.

Later that day, you were curled up on the couch under a blanket, finally reading through the reports you’d abandoned mid-fever, when you heard it:

A sneeze.

From the kitchen.

You froze.

Then slowly turned your head.

Bucky stood there, staring at the counter. His nose scrunched, eyes wide like he was trying to process the betrayal of his own immune system.

“…did you just sneeze?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.

He blinked. “No.”

“Oh my God.” You sat up slowly, eyes gleaming. “You did.”

He scowled. “It was probably dust.”

You stood, walking toward him with a grin that threatened to split your face in two. “You’re getting sick.”

“I’m not—”

“You caught my cold.” You gasped, delighted. “The super soldier has fallen.”

“I don’t get sick.”

“You do now.” You poked his arm. “This is the best day of my life.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest — and sneezed again.

You nearly fell off the couch laughing. “Bucky.”

He groaned, rubbing his temple. “I should’ve listened to you. Should’ve stopped kissing you.”

You grinned and walked up to him, arms slipping around his waist. “You couldn’t help yourself.”

“Apparently not.”

You stood on your toes, kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll take excellent care of you.”

He eyed you warily. “You’re going to make me soup, aren’t you?”

“With real chicken,” you said proudly, hugging him tighter and pressing another kiss to his jaw. “And I’ll even bring you flowers. But only if you admit I’m your favorite nurse.”

He sighed dramatically. “You’re not even certified.”

“You didn’t care when you were kissing me all over my fevered face.”

He leaned in, nose bumping yours. “Touché.”

And when he sneezed again — a big, dramatic one — you laughed so hard you nearly dropped the tissues you were about to hand him.

But you caught him this time.

Wrapped him up in a blanket.

And whispered against his hair, “Told you I was contagious.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes one shot

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witchywithwhiskey · 27 days ago

Text

can't get enough

pairing: congressman!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you're woken up by bucky being called away for some congressional business, but you don't want him to go. as you're making the most of the time you have together, he reminds you of the night before, when you celebrated him coming home after a few weeks away.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), there are no spoilers for thunderbolts*, smut, light angst, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, vaginal fisting, double vaginal penetration, inappropriate use of bucky's metal arm, rough sex, pussy spanking, painful sex/painplay, bdsm elements (mostly check-ins, bucky briefly restrains reader's wrists with his hands), biting, finger sucking, come play, dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, pet names (little one, baby), referenced edging using sex toys, aftercare, established relationship, lots of feelings

word count: 8.3k

a/n: ok so i originally wrote this fic back when the first Thunderbolts* trailer dropped, and we saw Bucky's metal arm in the dishwasher, but i just never got around to editing it 🫣 and it was a bit of a struggle, i honestly had no idea how to end this fic! also, i'm pretty sure a congressman wouldn't travel so much, but it was necessary for the fic so we're gonna ignore those inaccuracies! anyway, this is pretty much just pure smut with some feelings, so i hope y'all enjoy ♡

The loud, incessant buzzing of a phone on the table beside your bed dragged you mercilessly from sleep. With a muffled groan, you rolled over, the sheets smooth against your bare skin as you sought the warmth of Bucky Barnes.

He’d already shifted onto his side to answer the phone, and you burrowed your face between his shoulder blades, nose nudging the bumps of his spine, smile pressing into his skin when you felt his deep, sleep-roughened voice while he spoke.

“Yes?”

There was a pause filled by the tinny sound of someone on the other end speaking. Though you couldn’t hear their words, you got the gist. Bucky was being called away on some sort of official congressional business—or the unofficial business that had him investigating Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.

Either way, it only meant one thing, and it had the corners of your mouth pulling down in an unhappy frown.

“Alright, gimme an hour.”

Bucky’s sigh was drowned out by the wooden thunk of him tossing his phone back on the bedside table. Then he was rolling onto his back, his arm digging beneath your waist and pulling you into his warm body until you were half sprawled on top of him.

So much of your bare skin was pressed to his, and you hummed contentedly, sleep still nipping at the corners of your consciousness and urging you to return to its comforting embrace. But then you remembered the call and what it meant.

“Noooo,” you whined, curling your arms around Bucky’s shoulders and wrapping your legs around his thigh, holding on tight and trying to prevent him from leaving the bed.

You knew it was pointless—he was a super-soldier, and even though he wasn’t wearing his metal arm, he could easily extract himself from your hold. Or carry you as he got out of bed, which you would mind less.

A low, reluctant chuckle rumbled in Bucky’s chest and he brushed a kiss to your forehead, to the spot where your brows were furrowed in a frown, his scruffy jaw making you shiver.

“I have to go in,” he said, stating what you’d already surmised. “And you need the rest, little one.” His voice dropped to a playful growl that had you laughing even as you pouted.

“I do not,” you grumbled, burying your face in Bucky’s bare chest, delighting in the way the soft hair dusting his skin tickled your cheeks. Your words were muffled by the way your mouth was pressed into the layer of softness atop the packed muscle of Bucky’s chest, but you knew he heard you fine.

“Oh yeah?” he challenged, his warm hand ghosting down your spine and smoothing over your bare ass. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, just enough to make you mewl softly and squirm on top of him.

You were distracted from his question by Bucky’s groping hand, your legs falling open instinctively and your head tipping to the side to let out a soft moan. Bucky’s laughter rumbled in his chest, teasing your nipples to aching points while his hand slipped between your thighs.

His fingers explored the soft, swollen folds of your pussy, his darkened blue eyes watching your face carefully, as if checking your body for tenderness. When you merely sighed happily, your muscles loosening and relaxing until you were little more than a warm puddle on his chest, Bucky brushed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

Then, without warning, he pulled his fingers away and used the flat of them to deliver a light swat to your well-used, puffy pussy.

The gentle sting had you whining sharply and writhing on top of Bucky’s chest, arching your back and presenting your cunt in a way that you hoped enticed him to give you more—you didn’t care if it was more light spanks or thrusting his fingers inside your dripping hole.

“Greedy girl,” Bucky rumbled, a hint of admonishment in his tone, but his voice was so washed in warmth, it was hard to take the scolding seriously. Especially when he indulged your needy sounds and spanked your pussy again, a little harder that time.

Despite Bucky’s examination, you were still a little sensitive and sore from the previous night, and you trembled beneath the firm swat to your puffy pussy, letting out a pathetic whimper at the sting of pain, even as tingles of pleasure swirled deliciously through your core.

There was an ache in your muscles, and an exhaustion deep in your bones, that was coaxing you to fall back to sleep. But the knowledge that Bucky was leaving, and you weren’t sure when he’d be back, had you fighting against it.

Instead, you sank into the pleasure of Bucky’s hand, writhing lazily against him, your thigh brushing against his thickening cock. Your fingers trailed down Bucky’s side until they bumped against the tip, then you danced them down his shaft, enjoying the feeling of his hard length twitching against your touch.

Before you could get too distracted by Bucky’s cock, though, he delivered another, sharper, spank to your pussy. You keened loudly, your back arching, ass lifting in the air as you begged for him to stop tormenting you.

“Please,” you gasped, spreading your legs wider, inviting him to give you more.

“Still hungry for me, little one?” Bucky teased, his voice a delicious, sleep-roughened rasp that danced along your spine and settled heavily between your thighs, making your clit throb with need. “Even after everything I gave you last night?”

His fingers rubbed your puffy pussy, making a mess of the wetness that was already leaking from your slit. When he spanked you lightly again, it made an obscene wet sound that had you squirming and keening pitifully.

“Bucky, please,” you mewled, sliding your hands up Bucky’s chest to curl over his shoulders and brace against his broad body to rock your hips back against his teasing fingers. “Need you—I’ll always need you,” you whined raggedly.

Moving on instinct, you slid your leg across his hips until you were straddling him. The hard line of his cock was a heavy, delicious ridge between your thighs and your hips worked, grinding down on him, your clit bumping against all the veins of his shaft and drawing a needy whimper from your lips.

“Please.”

“Greedy, insatiable girl,” Bucky murmured, the words sounding more like praise than admonishment in his deep, rasping voice.

You could do little more than purr your happiness before he was ducking his head and capturing your mouth in a kiss. Your mind went blissfully blank as his lips tasted yours, his hand shifting to your hip, fingers rubbing your own wetness into your skin as he dug into your soft flesh.

Bucky used his grip to urge you to grind against his thick cock, all while he swallowed your whimpers and moans like a hungry beast, his own pleasure rumbling deep in his chest.

Your need ratcheted higher with every sweep of his tongue between your lips, and your hips humped desperately, feeling every throb and twitch of his hardness between your slick, swollen folds.

Truthfully, there was a slight ache in your core, but you ignored it. You were too ravenous for Bucky to even think about stopping your hips from working and coating his cock in your desire.

When the blunt tip of him caught in your thoroughly used hole and threatened to slide into your puffy pussy, Bucky stilled beneath you, his hand gripping the soft curve of your hip so hard that you came to a rest with a protesting whine.

You were panting with need, your mouth open, lips brushing against Bucky’s as you breathed each other’s air. But as you retreated enough to see what had made him stop, you caught the flash of concern in his darkened blue eyes.

“Little one,” Bucky rumbled, a strained warning in his tone, like it killed him to have to stop you.

If it had been any other morning, you might’ve given in to Bucky’s urging that you rest—but that was because he would’ve been there to take care of you. He would’ve cuddled up with you under a blanket and gotten you everything you needed so you could keep relaxing.

But he was leaving in an hour—less than, since it had already been a few blissful minutes since he’d hung up the phone—and so the gluttonous hunger churning in the depths of your body would not be ignored. No matter how concerned Bucky was for you, you needed him.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, urgent desperation in your sleepy, husky voice. Your hips were already pushing against his hold on your body, a pitiful whine rising in your throat when he kept you pinned with his super-soldier strength.

For a long moment, Bucky’s eyes raked over your face, taking in the pout on your lips and the pleading expression in your gaze. Finally, his hand loosened on your hip and you pushed back, impaling yourself on the tip of Bucky’s cock.

A breathy moan slipped from your lips, and you tipped your head back, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you felt his hard cock drag against your sensitive inner walls. It felt so good to have him inside you, filling you up in the most perfect, delicious way only he could, that your mind went blank with pleasure.

Time stretched exquisitely, and all you could do was feel. Your head spun as your body moved slowly, your hips sinking further and further down on Bucky’s cock. It was exactly what you needed—every throbbing inch of his length sliding deeper into your tight hole as you stretched around his thick shaft.

When you were fully seated on his cock, Bucky’s hand wrapped around the nape of your neck, fingers digging into your skin and dragging you close to hold you pinned to his broad chest. Your nipples rubbed against his hard muscles and the soft hair dusting across his pecs, teasing them deliciously.

“Greedy girl,” Bucky growled, tipping your face toward his until your lips brushed against his, but he didn’t kiss you. He just breathed heavily while you panted into his mouth. “You can’t get enough of me, huh?” he asked, a teasing thread in his tone.

It was on the tip of your tongue to cry out ‘no, never’, but just then, Bucky shoved his hips up roughly, fucking so deep into your body, you could’ve sworn you felt him deep in your belly. A sob wrenched free from your throat at the pleasure, which was edged in just enough pain to make to make it sharper, more intense.

“Can’t get enough of my cock, even after everything I gave you last night?” Bucky went on, his harsh breaths spilling past your parted lips as he fucked you. “Good. I want you to feel me in your greedy cunt even while I’m gone—I want you thinking about everything I did to you this morning—and especially last night—so you know what I’m going to do to you when I get home.”

At his words, memories of the night before flooded your mind…

Bucky Barnes had been gone for weeks. He was meeting with businesses and local community leaders in his home district of Brooklyn, New York, while you were left alone in the Washington D.C. apartment you shared together.

You knew being a congressman gave Bucky a purpose, something he hadn’t had in a while, but did he really need to be gone for weeks?

In your opinion, Bucky being gone for weeks was too long.

Sure, he did what he could to keep in touch even amidst his busy schedule. He made a point to call you at least once a day, and though you’d had phone sex a handful of times, nothing compared to having him with you—his warmth in your bed, his arms around your body, his cock buried deep between your thighs.

You’d taken to wearing his starched, white button-up shirts whenever you were home at night, breathing in the scent of him as much as you could. You’d lay in the bed you shared, with nothing on except that shirt.

When he got home on the night he was due back, that was how he found you, clad in his white shirt, only a few of the buttons done up, giving him teasing glimpses of your tits and pussy while you squirmed excitedly on the bed. Hunger darkened his blue eyes and a wolfish smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Then, Bucky fell on you like a starving man, his metal hand sliding between the plackets of the shirt and tearing it open like it was little more than tissue paper—and you were the present he was eager to unwrap.

His heated gaze swept down your bared body, a ravenous look in his eyes, before his larger form covered yours and his mouth captured your lips in a searing kiss.

Bucky kissed you like it was the first and last time, his mouth greedy as he devoured every sound you made and every breath you exhaled. In turn, you kissed him selfishly, your fingers curling around the nape of his neck and holding him close, stealing all the air from his lungs while he pinned you to the bed with his heavy body.

“Missed me?” Bucky asked teasingly on the first opportunity to come up for air. He shot you a smirk that was dripping with male satisfaction and humor—both of which made the need in your belly burn even hotter.

Your hands slid down the sides of his neck, palms skimming over the stubble beneath his jaw and dug your nails into his skin. Without grace, you yanked Bucky back down on top of you, your shoulders lifting off the bed to meet him as your mouths collided again.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you growled into his mouth.

At that, Bucky chuckled, slipping his tongue obligingly between your lips, but you were merciless. You wrapped your lips around his tongue and sucked on him so ravenously, he groaned loudly into your mouth.

Reflexively, his hips jerked, digging deeper between your thighs until his bulge was grinding against your bare pussy, your legs squeezing his hips and humping against his cock.

“Bucky,” you whined, throwing your head back and nearly knocking your chin into his nose while you writhed beneath him, desperately seeking your pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re needy tonight,” Bucky cursed on a sharp exhale, trying to sit up on his knees so he could strip off his clothes.

But you were clinging to him too tightly, and he ended up dragging you with him, so you sat spread across his thick thighs. Your arms tightened around his shoulders, your legs around his waist, your mouth pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to his stubbled jaw.

Bucky laughed huskily, and murmured, “Little one,” with an edge of admonishment in his tone that didn’t do anything to dislodge you. In fact, you barely heard it.

You were too busy dragging the blunt edges of your teeth over Bucky’s scruffy cheek, licking his bristly jaw and making obscene little moans when you tasted the salt on his skin and the musk of his sweat. Your mouth found the spot on Bucky’s neck that made him shiver, and you bit down—hard.

His whole body wracked with a shudder, nearly making you lose your hold and fall back to the bed. But you were too determined to stay close to him, so you clung on, feeling the shiver vibrate through your body, whimpering when it teased your aching nipples and your desperate, leaking cunt.

“Fucking christ—you need me that bad, huh?” Bucky huffed, his words accompanied by the sound of rending fabric and his zipper being ripped open. His fingers brushed your thighs and then the thick head of his cock was pressed to your weeping entrance. “Hope you’re ready for me, little one,” he growled, rubbing the tip of his cock through your drenched folds, teasing your hole.

A needy, pitiful sob burst from your lips as you tried to use what little leverage you had to lower yourself on Bucky’s cock, but his metal hand held you right where he wanted you, poised above his hard length. Another desperate whine spilled from you as tears of frustration splashed onto your cheeks.

“Bucky, ‘m so wet and empty, you could shove your whole fist inside me and I’d still beg for more,” you rasped against his neck, feeling his pulse pumping under your lips. “I missed you—god, I missed you so much, Bucky, I need you so bad.”

You barely knew what you were babbling, your head filled with hazy need. Your body felt like one big nerve ending that was throbbing to the beat of Bucky’s heart and begging to be filled.

Bucky made a rough, tortured sound low in his throat, something between a groan and a roar. It sank deep into your core and you felt even more wetness drip from your pussy onto his cock, coating him in your desire.

In the next breath, he yanked you down on his hard length, splitting you open so suddenly and so harshly, the immediate pleasure wrenched a scream from your lungs. The sound tore from your throat in a piercing wail, bouncing off the walls of your bedroom while Bucky gripped you so hard, you knew he’d leave bruises.

“That’s it, scream for me, little one,” Bucky rumbled, leaning forward and laying you down on the soft bed. The movement had his cock pressing so deep inside you, right to the end of you, that you felt like he was imprinting himself on your body.

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the bed on either side of your head, pulling his hips back and snapping forward, fucking you so hard and fast, all you could do was lay there and take it. You screamed and wailed until your throat was raw and your cheeks were damp with tears of pleasure.

“You think I didn’t miss you, too, little one?” he demanded, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside your body as it slammed into you. “You think my cock hasn’t been aching to sink into this tight cunt since the day I left?”

It felt so good, to have him everywhere—his body covering yours, his shirt teasing your aching nipples as he hunched over you on the bed, his damp forehead pressed to yours, his harsh breaths slipping between your lips, his hips cradled between your thighs, his cock buried to the root inside your pussy.

He pounded into you, punctuating his words with deep thrusts that sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body and making you nearly erupt in euphoria. You knew then that it wouldn’t be long before you came, and a part of you was devastated you’d come so quickly—even as you knew it wouldn’t be enough.

A whole night with Bucky, after he’d been gone for weeks, was never going to be enough.

“God, I missed this,” Bucky growled against your mouth. “I missed you—I missed you so fucking much, little one, I thought about you every moment I was gone.”

Bubbles of happiness burst in your chest to hear Bucky’s rough words of devotion. They swirled with the pleasure rising like a tide in the center of your being, leaving you to sob his name, chanting it like a prayer—like a plea, “Bucky, Bucky, Bucky!”

“Fuck—fuck, I can feel how close you are,” he bit out, his thrusts turning wild and erratic as he chased his own pleasure in your body. “Come for me, little one, come all over my cock—show me how much you missed me, baby.”

Bucky shoved deep inside you, pausing to grind his hips into your cunt and rubbing your clit until the pleasure building inside you reached its crest. You tumbled over the edge with a sharp cry, every muscle in your body pulling taut for one breathless moment, spine arching off the bed and wrists fighting against Bucky’s unbreakable hold.

Stars popped and crackled behind your eyes as you screamed Bucky’s name, overwhelming pleasure crashing through you in waves that swept you away to another plane of existence, leaving behind the bed and the room—leaving only you and Bucky, who still moved over you, his throat working as he growled in your ear.

“Good girl, such a good girl, baby,” his deliciously deep voice rumbled, tethering you to reality. “Can feel your sweet cunt gripping me so good, sucking me deeper, begging for my come. D’you want it, little one, want my come?”

“Yuh huh, yuh huh,” you babbled, unable to form proper words, but it didn’t matter because Bucky understood your meaning.

His mouth captured yours in a searing kiss while he rutted into you, and a moment latter, he was groaning through his own release.

Bucky’s hips pressed flush against your center, his cock twitching deep in your cunt as he spilled his seed against your cervix, loud sounds of pleasure slipping from his lips. You drank them down greedily, just as hungry for his pleasure as he’d been for yours.

In the haze of his release, you managed to tug your wrists free from his hold and you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s shoulders, fingers carding through his soft brown hair, your legs hugging his hips tightly while you felt him throbbing deep in your body.

As the overwhelming pleasure receded for both of you, the kiss shifted, slowing and becoming sweeter, more reverent. Your lips moved against each other adoringly, savoring the other and taking the time neither of you had been patient enough for earlier.

“In case it wasn’t clear,” you began, pulling back and kissing Bucky’s nose, then each of his cheeks and finally pressing a kiss between his brows, smoothing away the near-constant furrow. “I really missed you, Bucky.”

“Mm, I noticed,” Bucky rumbled, pressing his smile to your mouth before giving you a quick kiss. “I really missed you, too, baby,” he promised, his voice warm and satisfied even as he rolled his hips, wringing a soft gasp from your lips.

Laughing softly, he swallowed the sound with a kiss that devolved into long, languorous moments of making out. When Bucky finally pulled away to let you get some air, he propped himself up on his arms and glanced down at you with a hint of concern.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, his warm hand skimming down your side as if checking for injury. His hand slid between your bodies, easing his still half-hard cock from your pussy, his gaze watching your expression closely.

There was a little twinge of an ache, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he seemed to be expecting. Your lips curved in a naughty smile as you shook your head, holding his gaze. “I edged for a couple hours before you got home—put the dildo you got me to good use,” you explained.

You winked up at him, enjoying the way Bucky’s eyebrows raised in surprise, then lowered as his eyes darkened. Renewed hunger burned in his gaze, and he ducked down so his mouth was close to yours. Your breaths were coming a little faster, matching the harshness of his.

“No wonder you were desperate for me,” he murmured on a chuckle, before giving you a long, heated kiss. When his tongue licked into your mouth, you swore you could feel it between your thighs, your core heating with desire all over again.

“Y’know,” Bucky began when he pulled away, the corners of his mouth curving in an impish smirk. “You say the damndest things when you’re desperate.”

“Hmm?” you asked, burying your face beneath Bucky’s jaw and nuzzling into his stubbled skin. He smelled like leather and musk, and you breathed deeply, letting his comforting scent fill your head with fluffy clouds of bliss.

All memories of what you’d said in the heat of the moment got lost in those clouds, but Bucky was determined to remind you.

He shifted his big body out from between your thighs, quietly shushing the soft whine you let out by petting his warm palm over your belly and slipping it between your thighs. His fingers gently stroked the folds of your puffy pussy.

“You said something about me shoving my fist in your pussy,” Bucky said gruffly, gliding the tips of his fingers through your wetness. He gathered his come, which had been dripping down to your ass, and gently pressed it back into your hole with three fingers, while the other two teased your entrance. “What did ya mean by that, little one?”

“B-Bucky, oh m’god,” you stammered breathlessly, eyes flying open and finding Bucky’s darkened blue gaze fixed firmly on your face while he slowly, torturously withdrew his fingers and pushed them back inside as deep as they’d go. “You know what I meant,” you forced out, gasping when Bucky’s little finger slipped into your pussy to join the others.

Hovering above you, Bucky’s mouth was curved into a devious, delicious smirk, which only deepened when he took note of the delight and excitement dancing across your face. You were certain he could see the eagerness deep in your gaze, and it made his smile turn wolfish.

“You want my fist, little one?”

Bucky’s voice was sweet as he asked you one of the filthiest, most debauched questioned you’d ever heard him utter. His gentle tone contrasted with his obscene words and the slick sound of his fingers working your drenched pussy. You could feel yourself clench around him, your body greedily sucking him deeper.

A pleased grin stole across Bucky’s handsome face. “Since I’ve been gone, I’ve only had my fist to fuck,” he rumbled, thumb teasing the edge of your hole while he fucked you with four fingers. “Now that I’m home, you want that for yourself, huh?” His eyes flashed with something even dirtier and more perverted. “Should we see if I can fit both my fist and my cock inside you?”

Your hips jerked reflexively at Bucky’s question, pressing down on his fingers and taking them deeper, your inner walls pulsing with a desperation to be filled. Your answer tumbled past your lips with a reckless desire you only felt safe enough with Bucky to indulge.

“Yes—god, yes, Bucky, give it to me, please, gimme your fist and your cock. I want to be stuffed so full of you, I’ll feel you for days.”

“That’s my girl,” Bucky growled, beginning to push his thumb into your warm, dripping hole.

For a second, your mind whited out, but then your fingers were wrapping around his wrist and you were tugging him to a stop. He caught your gaze, a concerned frown on his lips. There was a question in his eyes as you shook your head.

“I want the other fist, Bucky—the metal one. Please,” you begged in a soft, pleading voice. You weren’t sure if he’d grant your request, but you held your breath, hoping.

Bucky looked stunned for a moment, his features slack with surprise. But then a grin was curving the edges of his mouth and his vibranium hand was wrapping around the back of your neck, hauling you up from the bed for a searing, soul-consuming kiss.

When he finally pulled away, leaving you breathless, he gave you only a moment to gasp for air before he was shoving his warm fingers, dripping with your desire, past your lips. Bucky ordered you to clean them, his gaze going inky dark as he watched.

Once you were done, drool coating your chin after he’d fucked your mouth with his fingers, Bucky stood and made quick work of removing his clothes—leaving his dress shirt, ruined pants and all the rest in a pile on the floor.

Before rejoining you in the bed, Bucky grabbed a bottle of lube from where you’d left it on the bedside table, and he settled between your thighs. Skimming his hands lovingly along your thighs, he shifted you into the position he wanted, your back flat on the bed, knees hiked up and spread wide, putting your pussy on display.

“God, I missed this,” he murmured distractedly, his black and gold metal fingers delicately tracing the puffy lips of your pussy. His eyes were fixed on your swollen folds, reverence etched into his expression.

Still, you couldn’t help but giggle, a little breathlessly. “You missed my pussy that bad, huh?” Your voice was husky from your earlier screaming, and it seemed to draw Bucky from the trance he’d fallen into.

A rakish smile pulled across his handsome face, making your heart flip in your chest. “No, baby, I missed being with you, I missed trying something new with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the earnestness in Bucky’s low rumble, and the intensity in his blue eyes. Emotion flooded your chest and you knew it was written all over your face by the way a fire lit within his gaze.

You reached for him, but he was already leaning down and pressing a kiss to your pouty mouth, slipping his tongue between your lips in a teasing lick.

He kissed you slowly, like you had all the time in the world, and didn’t move away until you were squirming and whimpering into his mouth with need. Then, Bucky sat back on his haunches between your thighs and popped the top on the bottle of lub.

Bucky was thorough as he coated his metal hand generously in lube—all while muttering to himself about how he hoped it didn’t fuck up the machinery because he didn’t want to explain this to the Wakandans. But you reminded him it was water-based lube and if he could swim, it would be fine.

That comment had earned you a raised eyebrow and a wry smirk, and you’d stifled a giggle behind your palms, excitement dancing in your eyes as you watched Bucky prepare himself.

When he decided he was ready, he asked you again if you were sure, and you nodded eagerly, telling him again you wanted this—you wanted him to fuck you with his metal fist.

It took longer than you would’ve expected for Bucky to work you open, especially since you’d thought you’d been close enough to taking his other fist earlier. But the unrelenting metal of Bucky’s hand, and his determination to make sure he didn’t hurt you meant it was a slow process.

Then, when he finally pushed the widest part of his hand inside your pussy, the rest slid in all at once, a sharp cry springing from your lips as you were suddenly so full. It was such a strange sensation, to have Bucky’s hand buried deep in your cunt, but, you realized with stunning clarity, it felt good.

Bucky had gone deathly still when you’d cried out, as if he hadn’t known how to interpret the sound, whether it was pain or pleasure. But when you relaxed, softening around his wrist and hand, he let out heavy exhale, like he’d been holding his breath.

“Are ya alright, little one?” Bucky asked softly, catching your knee in his warm hand and pressing a kiss to the inside.

Your thighs were quivering under the onslaught of pleasure rippling out from the center of your body, where you were impaled on Bucky’s fist, his knuckles pressing against your sensitive inner walls and hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. You felt like your entire body was throbbing, and one move would make the pleasure detonate inside you.

“Uh hmm,” you murmured, nodding your head distractedly as you basked in the sensations flooding your body. Your arms and legs were trembling, the feeling of having something so large and unyielding inside you, stretching you, unlike anything you’d ever experienced. And you loved it.

Wiggling your hips experimentally, you felt Bucky’s metal fist shift infinitesimally inside you. His fingertips brushed against a spot that had you gasping, your body clenching down hard on his hand, before the sound devolved into an obscene, debauched moan.

Your eyes fluttered open with effort, and you sought Bucky, finding him partly hovering above you, watching your face like it was a wondrous thing. He was smiling down at you, his expression half fond, half feral.

“You’re so fucking filthy, little one—you’re taking my whole fist like such a filthy, perfect slut,” Bucky rumbled, shifting up the bed to capture your lips in a quick kiss.

The movement had him moving inside you, and you cried out, hips writhing as your body sough friction to add to the pleasure of being so full. Bucky swallowed the sound with a groan of his own, pulling his hand free before shoving it in again, a little rougher.

“Fuck, you’re doing so well for me, baby,” Bucky said in between kisses. Then he sat back and watched his hand disappear inside you over and over again. “You’re taking my fist so well, such a good fucking girl.”

“Bucky, please,” you cried, rolling your hips up off the bed to fuck yourself on his hand. You looked at him, desperation in your eyes, fingers clawing at the blankets of the bed. Your voice was raspy and raw as you begged, “I need more, please!”

The grin that pulled across Bucky’s face was so feral and hungry, it would’ve stolen the breath from your lungs if you had any to spare. He held your gaze while he fucked you with his fist—going slow at first, then increasing the speed of his hand plunging into your cunt until you were a crying, quivering mess.

And still, it wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. All because Bucky wouldn’t touch your clit.

He wouldn’t let you go near it either, batting your hands away whenever your fingers fumbled for the aching bud. You would’ve sobbed your frustration, but the pleasure pounding through your body was too much to voice the words to beg him to make you come.

“Ready for more, little one?” Bucky asked when you were teetering on the edge of your release again, unable to tumble over without the stimulation to your clit.

There was a growing wet spot beneath your body, and your thighs were practically drenched in your desire. Near-constant tremors were shuddering through your body, leaving you helpless and shaking beneath Bucky’s bigger body. It wasn’t until Bucky repeated his question, that you even understood his words.

When you nodded, Bucky tutted. “Gonna need words, baby, d’you want more or d’you want to come like this, on my fist?”

Deep in your mind, you knew there was only one answer to give. Once Bucky had put it in your head that you could have his cock and his fist inside you—that you could be so full of him—it was the only thing you’d wanted. You wanted all of him.

He was finally home, after being gone for so long, and you wanted to be connected to him in every way possible. If it had been possible to physically fuse yourselves together more permanently, in that moment you would’ve begged for it.

Your answer to Bucky’s question was wrenched from your throat like a divine supplication. “More!”

With a grunt of acknowledgement, Bucky moved as quickly as he could, shifting onto his knees and getting into position between your thighs. Slowly, he worked his cock into your body alongside his hand, stretching you so much you felt a tiny twinge of pain, but it was quickly replaced by blinding pleasure.

The noises leaving your mouth were unintelligible, a babbling litany of Bucky’s name, moans of pleasure and sobs of “please, please, please,” even if you didn’t fully know what you were begging him for. It all mixed with the wet sounds of Bucky fucking you, pumping into your slick, swollen cunt while his fist remained buried deep.

“Oh fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” Bucky muttered somewhere above you.

It was the only warning before the thumb of his warm hand found your clit and he rubbed it, hard and fast. The second he touched your aching bud, you knew you were done for. There was nothing stopping you from tumbling off the ledge and falling into endless pleasure.

Your release burned through you like a streak of lightning, pleasure so blinding it blurred the edge of pain, filling your body and mind with so much sensation, you hung suspended in time. For a long moment, all you could do was feel—the zinging pleasure of your release, and the place where you and Bucky were connected.

Then you crashed back into your body, and sucked in a breath. Blackness receded from the edges of your vision and you caught sight of Bucky just in time to watch him succumb to his own pleasure, his jaw gritting with a groan as his cock throbbed inside you.

Your pussy was still pulsing, greedily sucking Bucky’s come deeper into your body, when he slipped his softening cock from your hole. He was even more gentle as he eased his hand from your pussy than he’d been when he’d worked it inside you.

After he finally pulled free, you huffed a little sigh of relief and, at Bucky’s murmured encouragement, gave in to the exhaustion weighing you down.

You remembered flashes of Bucky cleaning you up, tucking you into an armchair while he changed the sheets, putting his arm in the dishwasher before padding back to bed and slipping beneath the blankets. You remembered him tucking you in against his chest, his body finally settling in with yours.

Then, there was nothing but blissful, restful sleep…

“Can’t believe you feel so tight after taking my fist and my cock last night, little one,” Bucky growled as he fucked up into you while you lay across his chest, your aching nipples rubbing teasingly against the hair dusted across his pecs.

With just one arm, Bucky had you pinned to his body, your face buried in the scruff of his jaw while he bounced you on his cock and you mewled pitiful sounds of helpless pleasure. It was too much, too good, stealing the words “please” and “more” from your lips.

“Can’t believe you still wanted me to fuck this puffy pussy after all I gave you last night—such a greedy, insatiable girl,” Bucky rumbled, his tone drenched in delicious teasing that had your cunt squeezing around his cock.

You were overwhelmed by the feeling of Bucky pounding into your thoroughly used hole, the ache of soreness in your core only making the pleasure feel all the more exquisite. You wanted all of it, the pleasure and the pain. You wanted it all as a reminder of Bucky when he was gone for who knew how long.

Bucky seemed to sense your desperation and need, and he tightened his arm around your lower back, anchoring you to his body while he slowed down his pace. His strokes turned long and deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every upward thrust of his hips, making you clench tight around him and moan in his ear.

“Ya like that, little one? Ya like feeling my cock deep in your cunt—where my fist was last night?” he murmured teasingly, his mouth dragging over the apple of your cheek. It wasn’t quite a kiss, since you could feel the self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

“Yesss,” you answered on another moan, your hands diving into Bucky’s hair at the back of his head and clinging to him. Your thighs were shaking, your body boneless with exhaustion as you lay across his chest, all you could focus on was staying on top of him while he bounced you on his cock.

Bucky’s heavy arm was braced around your lower back like an immovable force, ensuring you couldn’t move even if you’d had the energy to.

All you could do was lay there and take him, your tits crushed to his chest, your body pressed into the layer of softness padding his hard muscles. So much of your warm skin was touching his and it drove you wild.

“Want more, Bucky—want you to fuck me so hard, I’ll be feeling you for days,” you whispered, soft, pleading cries rising in your throat and slipping from your lips. “Can’t get enough of you, can never get enough.”

“Fuck—that’s my girl,” Bucky rumbled, so much warmth in his voice you swore you could feel it. Then he picked up his pace again, fucking you hard and fast.

It was exactly what you needed. Lifting your head, you let him see the pleasure contort your face, your eyes screwing shut and your mouth dropping open as sounds of pleasure spilled from you unbidden.

He was driving you closer and closer to the edge, and you had no doubt he could feel your puffy pussy fluttering around his cock, your moans and mewls becoming more desperate.

“Come for me, little one,” Bucky growled, capturing your mouth so he could kiss you breathless. “Want to remember the feeling of you coming on my cock while I’m gone—want to dream about coming home to you.”

His hand slid to your lower back and he pushed your hips down so your legs spread wider, allowing his cock to sink even deeper into your pussy. You could feel him everywhere, from where he throbbed inside you to where your lips brushed as you both gasped for air.

You whined into Bucky’s mouth, your fingers clinging to the edges of his jaw, while he rocked your hips together. The base of his cock was grinding against your puffy clit, sending zinging sparks and delicious tingles through your entire body.

“Oh god, Bucky,” you cried, his movements pushing you over the edge. Your body pulled taut for one breathless moment, like it was holding all the pleasure inside, and then all you felt was an explosion of euphoric sensation.

A long, loud moan fell from your lips, and Bucky’s hand skimmed up your spine to wrap around the back of your neck, holding your mouth against his while he drowned in the sounds of your pleasure.

Moments later, he grunted, his cock twitching inside you as he came right after you. He buried himself to the root, spilling his seed deep in your cunt, some of it leaking out around his shaft and making a mess of your thighs.

Your bodies writhed together, basking in the pleasure for long, luxurious moments. The desperate, needy kisses of your releases turned sweet and playful, taking on a sleepy edge.

Exhaustion was tugging at the corners of your mind again, urging you to slip back into the comfortable embrace of sleep, but you fought it. You didn’t want Bucky to leave while you were asleep. You wanted to be with him until the last possible second before he had to leave.

“My sweet, greedy, insatiable girl,” Bucky rumbled when your mouths broke apart, a smile in his voice. But you pouted about the end of the kiss, and nipped at his lower lip, dragging him in for another.

It was a long while before you allowed Bucky to extricate himself from you—long enough that you both knew he was going to be late, but neither of you mentioned it.

Before he got up, Bucky rolled you onto your back and hovered above you, staring down at you like he was committing the sight to memory. The sheets were tangled around your body, and you were mussed from sleep and sex, but he looked at you like the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and your heart warmed in your chest.

Bucky ducked his head for one last kiss, murmuring, “Rest, little one,” before he stood from the bed and trudged to the bathroom.

You turned your face into his pillow and muffled a sigh of disappointment. You knew he had to leave, you’d just hoped he’d get a couple days off after being gone on such a long trip to Brooklyn.

Without Bucky beside you, you fell into a light sleep, lulled by the sound of the shower running and the muffled noises of him getting dressed. It was only when he left the bedroom and headed into the kitchen that you roused, a frown marring your face with the knowledge he’d be leaving soon.

Wrapping the sheet around your body, you dragged yourself out of bed, wincing slightly at the sting between your thighs. You knew you’d have to take it easy for the rest of the day, but it was worth it to have a reminder of Bucky nestled deep in your body, especially as his come dripped down your thighs.

You took a moment to clean up a little in the bathroom, then padded out to the kitchen. You paused, watching Bucky pull his vibranium arm from the dishwasher, a naughty smirk tugging at your lips as memories of the night before flitted across your mind again.

“You should be in bed, little one,” Bucky grumbled, fitting his arm into the socket and snapping it into place. A grimace passed over his features, and your feet were moving before you even knew what you were doing.

Moving around the kitchen island, you pressed yourself against Bucky’s back, brushing butterfly kisses to his skin between the edge of his undershirt and the socket for his arm. Your hands looped around his front, fingers digging lightly into the softness around his waist that you loved so much.

“How long will you be gone this time?” you asked in between kisses, ignoring his complaint about you getting out of bed.

Bucky braced his hands against the edge of the counter, letting out a sigh. You could feel his body relaxing, tension draining from his muscles the more you kissed his bare skin. So you kept it up, brushing your lips against the back of his neck beneath his slicked-back hair.

“Just a few days,” he muttered. His warm hand moved from the counter, laying over yours on his stomach and squeezing lightly. “I don’t like being gone so much.”

“I don’t like it either,” you whispered into his shoulder blade. “Even if the sex when you get back is phenomenal,” you added, trying to lighten the mood.

A chuckle rumbled in Bucky’s chest, but it sounded forced and you hugged him tighter.

“How about you take some vacation time after this trip,” you suggested in between more kisses to his shoulder. “We don’t have to go anywhere, we can just stay in bed the whole time.”

“If that’s what it takes to make sure you get the rest you need,” Bucky began, turning in your hold and wrapping his arms around your waist, hauling you against his chest. “Then it’s a plan.”

There was a ghost of a smirk on his face and you leaned in to kiss the corner of it. You felt his mouth curve deeper against your lips, which was your only warning before, in the next moment, he stooped down and grabbed you around your waist, tossing you over his shoulder.

You screeched in surprise and kicked your legs until Bucky’s metal arm banded around the backs of your thighs, pinning you to him—bedsheet and all—while he carried you back to the bedroom. There, he tossed you down on the bed and pointed a finger at you.

“Stay, and rest, little one,” he commanded sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Fine,” you pouted as you sat up, letting the sheet fall open and giving Bucky an eyeful of your naked body. You crossed your arms under your tits, pushing them up for good measure. “But when you get home, you’re burying your cock in me and not moving until I say so.”

Bucky shook his head a little exasperatedly, but there was an affectionate smile on his face when he bent down and grabbed your chin tight. He gave you one last kiss. “Greedy, insatiable girl,” he growled against your lips.

“Your greedy, insatiable girl,” you shot back with a sweet smile. “And it’s not my fault I can’t get enough of you, you’re just so wonderful.”

The teasing in your tone made Bucky chuckle and he pressed one final kiss to your lips before pulling away. You watched him walk out of the room with a sad smile on your face, holding tight to the lingering feeling of him between your thighs to get you through the next few days while he was gone.

True to his word, Bucky Barnes returned home a few days later, his congressional office well aware he was taking a two-week vacation, during which he was not to be interrupted.

In those two weeks, you spent all your time together. Some of it was spent resting in bed or on the couch, some of it was spent going out for food, or cooking in the kitchen together.

But most of Bucky’s time off was spent with his cock—or his fingers, or his fist—buried deep inside your body. You both craved being connected as much as possible, and with nowhere to go, there was no reason not to indulge yourselves.

You couldn’t get enough of each other, and for once, you didn’t have to worry. You could just enjoy it. You could just enjoy everything about being with Bucky Barnes. So that’s what you did.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #established relationship

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submattsmxmmy · 24 days ago

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stepbro!chris x bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, heavy stepsibling kink, blackmail/dubcon (kinda), begging, edging, humiliation, oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex, sub!chris????

🖤 summary: 🖤 after chris throws a party while your parents are out of town, you talk chris into letting you do something he wouldn't normally let you do in exchange for not ratting him out.

hiii it's @ariestrxsh reporting from my second account so i don't get canceled. you know the drill! don't like? don't read! sorry mom, sorry god, and sorry chris sturniolo. hope y'all never see this!

dividers by @/strangergraphics

holdyourbreath

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

The next morning, you woke up to the sun pouring into your window through your sheer curtains, Chris' arms were still wrapped around you as he softly snored beside you. Your head felt fuzzy from the weed the night before, and you had this groggy feeling that would take all morning to shake.

You heard a shuffling downstairs and sat up quickly, causing Chris to stir beside you. "Chris! I think our parents are home!" You hoarsely whispered, pulling the blanket off of you in a swift motion and staring wide-eyed at your door, ready for one or both of them to burst through any minute.

Your heart hammered away, ready for them to reprimand the two of you, first for the state of the house - and then for being in bed together.

"Don't worry. I told some buddies I'd give 'em free weed if they helped clean up from the party," he grumbled in a tired voice, completely unbothered.

You took a deep breath, the panicked feeling dwindling away and your heart returning to a normal rate, but you still felt a bit of unease. What would keep his friends from coming up and walking in on the two of you?

You'd just die if anyone you knew found out you were sleeping with your stepbrother.

"I told them a girl stayed over. They won't be bothering us at all," Chris told you as if reading your mind. He flashed you a smile before he yawned, stretching his arms overhead.

Your gaze met his for a moment after his perfect blue eyes fluttered open, but he glanced away almost immediately, worried you'd be able to see how soft he'd gotten for you.

You admired his full, pink lips, his disheveled hair, and the bit of stubble that was coming in on his face after a few days of not shaving. That's when a diabolical idea popped into your head.

"You know, you're still an asshole for throwing a party," you huffed, throwing your legs over the side of your bed and standing to your feet.

"You had fun," Chris chuckled, rubbing his eyes and replaying the events from the night before.

"You know, I should tell on you. Your mom would be pissed," you replied, giving him a mischevious grin.

"You wouldn't dare," Chris narrowed his gaze at you, trying to figure out what your angle was.

"I mean, I won't tell... if you can give me something I want," you replied, throwing a fresh shirt on over your head and shooting a smirk in his direction. Chris sighed, running his fingers through his messy, brown hair.

"And what would that be?" He hesitantly asked you. You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to assess what he'd do to avoid getting caught. He gave a deadpan stare, knowing you weren't just going to ask for a normal favor.

Regardless of what the favor was, he was inclined to do it. He'd been on thin ice with your parents lately, and he knew he'd be in major trouble if you ratted on him.

"Let me dom you," you demanded, placing your hand on your left hip and leaning into it. Chris scoffed loudly.

"You're outta your damn mind. I'm not gonna be your fuckin' pet you can do whatever ya want to." Chris crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Then you know who's gonna be outta their minds when they get back in town?" You retorted, fighting the smirk starting in the corner of your lip. Chris groaned, knowing it was in his best interest to give in to what you wanted.

"What's it gonna be, Chris? You gonna give me what I want? Or am I telling our parents about the little party you threw?" You wondered, tilting your head to the side and giving him an inquisitive look.

"What do you want me to do?" Chris asked as if he were considering it, his face completely devoid of emotion.

"Whatever I tell you to do," you giggled.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You're sick."

"Come on, Chris. I know you'd do anything for me," you replied, slithering back into your bed.

"I don't know about anything."

"Well, you'd do anything to save your own ass," you responded, climbing on top of your stepbrother's lap and straddling him. He let out a groan as you shifted your weight around on his erection that was pinned to his stomach, a sound he made partially out of pain and partially out of pleasure.

"Oh, my god. See? You're already hard just at the thought of me dominating you," you teased him, pinning his wrists above his head and rolling your hips forward. He made another noise, this time a little more desperate.

His cheeks immediately flushed with embarrassment, realizing that whiny, pathetic sound did, in fact, come from him. You were surprised when he didn't immediately wiggle free from your grasp even though he easily could have.

"That's not why I'm hard, fuckin' slut," Chris rasped, lifting his hips up and pressing his cock into your clothed cunt. "I'm hard thinkin' about all the ways I'm gonna punish you after you have your fun."

"You ever been dominated by a girl before?" You questioned him, arching your brow and taking control of the conversation again.

"No," he responded, sounding agitated.

"Awh. Poor baby. You must be so scared right now," you said in a faux sympathetic voice as you stuck out your bottom lip in a fake pout.

"Scared? Of what?" He asked with a puzzled look on his face.

"Scared because you might like it," you poked fun at him. Chris' lip twitched, threatening a contemptuous smile at your accusation. His wrists strained against your hold, but not enough to break free.

"I ain't afraid of nothin'."

"Nothing, huh? Not even afraid of your friends hearing you whimper for me?" You cooed in a soft voice, still grinding against him. He tightened his jaw, fighting back the noises that threatened to spill from his lips. "I bet you're just dying for me to put it in my mouth, aren't you?" You purred, smiling down at him.

He flared his nostrils in frustration. "Do it then, slut, and quit talkin' about it," he huffed back.

"Not with that attitude. Come on, pretty boy. Ask nicely," you taunted him, leaning in and nudging his head to the side with your nose before your lips latched onto a vulnerable spot on his neck.

"Not a fuckin' chance," Chris whispered, hoping you couldn't hear the desire in his voice.

"That's too bad then. I guess I'll just kiss your neck and grind against you until you choose to be nice," you softly spoke, your lip tickling his earlobe. He swallowed hard. He could feel goosebumps forming on his warm skin.

"Works for me," he said in a cocky manner, trying to fight the urge to give into you. You noticed that he hadn't budged once from the position you had him in, his wrists still secured in your grip. There was something about the way that he was just letting you that was so hot.

You started sucking on his sensitive flesh, gently biting down and causing him to shudder and gasp. His dominant mask was slipping.

Never in a million years did Chris picture himself allowing some girl to dominate him and for him to like it. To be fair, though, you weren't just some girl.

"Such a good boy. So responsive for me," you whispered into the crook of his neck, your hot breath hitting his skin. You could feel the tension leave his body as he started to submit to you. "I bet you want me to suck on it so bad, don't you?" You seductively mewled, pulling away from his neck to admire his facial features.

His hooded eyes stared back at you with lust. His cheeks were flushed and pink with embarrassment and desire, and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. "Mhmm," he softly hummed, nodding his head eagerly. "Suck on it."

"Ask nicely," you reiterated.

"Please suck on it."

"Beg for it," you told him.

Chris loudly sighed, preparing to make a fool of himself. "Fuck. Please, please suck on it. You're killin' me here," Chris whined, wetting his lips that were pink with arousal.

"I don't think you want it bad enough," you teased, rolling your hips once more and grinding against him.

"Fuck. It's fuckin' aching. Please put it in your mouth," Chris demanded in a breathy voice, squirming beneath you. You tightened your grasp on his wrists, giving him a look like you knew he could do better than that. "Fuck. Please. I'm desperate," he pleaded with you.

"Keep going, baby," you softly replied.

"I need it. P-please. Put it in your mouth," he begged.

A smile crept into the corner of your lip in satisfaction with how pathetic he finally looked and sounded. "That's it. Good boy," you complimented him, releasing his wrists and scooting down further onto the bed.

He propped himself up on his elbows, peering down at the way you slowly slithered off his lap and positioned yourself on your knees between his legs. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pajama pants and his underwear, slowly pulling them down. He slightly raised his hips, and his hard cock sprung out, slapping his stomach as you set it free.

"Awh. Look. He's so pretty.. all shiny," you whispered, grabbing his shaft and admiring the clear fluid coating his tip.

"Don't... talk about my dick like that," Chris protested.

"Don't talk about him like what?" You asked, sneering at him as you circled his tip with the pad of your finger. This simple contact made Chris quietly moan, but he cleared his throat, trying to cover the sound.

"Callin' it cute names and talkin' about it like it isn't fuckin' attached to me. God, there's somethin' the matter with ya," Chris snarled, but the look on his face gave him away. He was secretly loving this, and you could tell.

"What? You don't want me telling you how pretty he is?" You cooed, looking into his eyes. He rolled his eyes, his chest rising and falling at a faster rate as his breathing pattern sped up. You leaned forward, your mouth hovering less an inch above his cock. You blew cold air over his glistening tip, causing him to shudder.

"Fuck," he moaned, tipping his head back. You tightened your hold on his length and started slowly stroking him up and down. He gazed back down at you, biting down on his lip. He wondered how long you were going to tease him for, and there was a part of him that didn't totally mind it - a part that maybe was even looking forward to it just a little bit.

You leaned in a little more and placed a tender peck on his swollen tip, causing his cock to twitch. "Awh. He's so sensitive," you cooed, kissing it again.

"Oh, my god," Chris groaned beneath you, trying to sound annoyed, but he was grasping at the sheets. You started working down his length, gently brushing your lips over his shaft and giving him soft kisses. Then, you worked your way back up, nearing his head with your mouth, and with every inch you moved closer, his breath grew more shallow.

You finally closed your lips down around his leaking tip and slurped up the shiny fluid. His hand flew up, and he tenderly ran his fingers through your hair. "Oh, shit," he whispered, his eyes fluttering shut as they rolled back. His neck craned back, and his head softly hit your pillow.

"If you try to take control and push my head down, I'll stop, and we'll start from the beginning," you threatened him as you felt his grasp on your hair tighten. He picked his head back up, glanced down at you, and nodded.

He kept his hand there, but he loosened his grip, soothingly stroking your hair. He didn't use any force, but he was fighting the urge the whole time.

You were moving painfully slow - gently licking, tenderly sucking, lightly kissing. He started to whimper under the feeling of your mouth. The pace was driving him crazy. He was always used to making you submit, but being on the receiving end, patiently waiting for you to make your next move was so difficult for him.

You finally took him into your mouth, wrapping your plump lips around him and sinking down his length. He smiled down at you, using every bit of self-restraint he had to keep himself from forcing your head down and making you gag on him.

You hummed around his cock, and he had to bite back a loud moan. "I think you're liking this a little too much," you accused him, giving him a smirk. He didn't say a word, but his silence spoke volumes.

You went back to slowly stroking him while your mouth worked on his tip. Moans poured effortlessly from him again as he grew more sensitive due to your teasing. You bobbed up and down on his cock, drawing him closer to the edge.

You flicked your gaze up at him, his desperate blue eyes staring back. You could see the pleasure engraved in his expression, his pinched together brows, his slacked jaw, and his parted lips. You could hear his breathing turn into panting.

He curled his toes, trying to remain composed and attempting to keep his whimpering from getting too out of hand, but he was miserably failing.

Just when you thought he couldn't take anymore, you withdrew all sensation. Chris let out a defeated sigh. "I was so close..." He fussed, but he quickly cleared his throat when he heard how whiny he sounded.

"I know you were. I bet your friends could tell, too. You're being so loud. You trying to get us caught?" You giggled.

His cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. "Shut up," he barked back.

"That's not very nice, Chris. You wanna cum, don't you? Only good boys get to finish," you mocked him in a condescending tone. Chris nodded, his eyes silently begging you to put your mouth back on him.

"Tell me what you want, Christopher," you cooed, biting back a satisfied smile as you watched him struggle to uphold his collected facade. You'd never seem him so vulnerable and submissive before. It was driving you crazy.

"Please let me cum," he whimpered. You shook your head no with a glint in your eye, still lazily stroking him. Little did he know, you were just getting started.

He was growing more and more impatient, little whines slipping past his lips as you placed your thumb on his tip and started rubbing it. Your touch was heavenly and no matter how hard he tried to seem indifferent to it, he couldn't hide the pure pleasure he felt.

"God, you're falling apart," you smirked, your hungry stare fixed on him. You took him into your mouth again, repeating the pattern, starting off slow and then going faster until he was writhing beneath you in desperation. Then you withdrew all sensation again, earning a frustrated sigh from Chris.

You did this a few more times, watching him as he struggled, knuckles growing white as he tugged at the sheets, toes curling, screwing his eyes shut, and tightening his jaw. Then you'd stop, give him a smirk, and listen to him beg.

Chris usually needed really rough, really fast, constant stimulation in order to finish, but with how expertly you'd edged him, he felt like he could cum if you simply breathed on his cock a certain way.

"I can't take it anymore. I need to cum. Please, please, please," he whimpered, his voice breaking into sobs, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. You raised an eyebrow, a smile curling on your lips as you savored the sight, knowing it probably would never happen again.

Your gaze fell to his pretty cock, and you watched his precum mixed with your saliva leak out of his swollen tip and down his length. "That's it," you purred, twisting your wrist as you stroked him, his pretty sounds encouraging you.

You abruptly stopped when you felt his member pulse in your grasp, withholding all stimulation again. You weren't going to let him get off that easily. "You're gonna fuckin' kill me," Chris whispered, anticipation eating him alive.

You gave him a smile as you sat up and slowly started to remove your panties. Chris let out a sigh of relief, eager to feel your cunt wrapped around him, but you continued to move rather unhurriedly, slinking your underwear down your thighs like you were giving a striptease.

Chris watched hungrily as you slowly spread your legs, feeling the cool air hit your glistening folds. You teased him further, reaching between your thighs and rubbing your clit in circles. "How bad do you want it?" You asked, holding eye contact.

"I want it so bad. Please," he whimpered. You giggled at his desperation, and then you straddled him, lining him up with your entrance. However, instead of putting it in right away, you took your time, slowly dragging his swollen head over your slit a few times, taunting him even more.

A few more strangled moans passed through his lips as you slipped just the tip into your hole. He looked up at you with his needy blue eyes, waiting patiently as you started to slowly suck him in.

"Fuck," he whispered, reaching up and brushing away the sweat from his brow. You sunk down on him inch by inch, watching him further lose his composure.

Once you were completely stretched around him, you paused all movement, pinning his arms above his head again. "You want me to ride you, don't you?" You cooed, staying completely still.

"Yes. Please," he responded, his voice cracking in desperation as his wrists strained against your hold.

You figured you'd tortured the boy enough already, so you decided to finally see it through, giving him a bit of relief from your teasing.

You grinned and watched his eyes roll back as you worked at an unhurried pace, drawing circles with your waist and massaging him with your walls as you slid up and down on him. He relished in the sensation, a guttural moan passed through his lips. He throbbed inside of you, the knot in his stomach threatening to come undone any moment.

You sped up the motion of your hips, grinding on his cock as you peered down at his face, his features saturated with pleasure. "Be a good boy and finish for me, hmm?" You cooed. He nodded in response, a slew of pathetic whimpers filling the air.

You felt the muscles in his wrists tighten against your palms as his long-awaited release crashed over him like a tidal wave. His length pulsed inside of you, flooding your cunt with his thick, hot cum. His whole body shook at the feeling, adrenaline and dopamine coursing through him.

He looked beautiful panting beneath you, staring back with glossed over eyes and a blissful smile, his face turning an ever deeper shade of red as he realized how foolish and pathetic he must have appeared to you in his most desperate moments. He couldn't believe how he'd begged you to let him cum and then busted at you purring the words, good boy.

You smirked down at him, catching your breath as you finally let go of his wrists. His hands immediately flew up, and he buried his face in them, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"If you ever tell anyone I liked that, I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a fuckin' week," Chris chuckled once his shyness subsided, running his long, thin fingers through his disheveled hair that was sticking up in all directions.

"Ooh, fun. Don't threaten me with a good time," you teased. In one swift motion, he swung you off of him and pinned you to the bed underneath him, earning a squeal from you in response.

"Okay, you kinky little slut. What I meant to say is, if ya tell anyone I liked that, I'll never fuck you again. How 'bout that?" He replied, but there was no bite to his tone.

"Even if you weren't my stepbrother, I'd never tell anyone the things we do. That's private. Just between us," you told him with a bit of seriousness, your eyes locked on his.

Chris almost felt a deeper sense of connection and security with you after sharing such a vulnerable part of himself and knowing he wouldn't have to worry that the details surrounding it getting out.

He laid his head on your chest that rose and fell with your breath, listening to the sound of your heartbeat slow as you recovered. You played with his messy hair, gently sifting through each strand. "So, you won't tell our parents about me throwing a party while they were out of town?" He asked quietly, tracing circles with his fingertips over the top of your thigh.

"Hmmm. I think I just need one more thing from you before I can promise that," you smugly responded, softly scratching his head.

"What?" Chris groaned, anticipating the worst as he looked up at you with a pout on his perfect pink lips.

"Well, a cup of coffee would be nice," you chuckled. Chris gave you a relieved sigh and rolled his tired blue eyes in annoyance, but he nodded, thankful that your next request was much simpler than the first.

He kissed you before he slipped out of your bed and into his sweatpants from the night before that were balled up on your floor, and he trudged downstairs.

He made two cups of coffee, one for you and one for himself while his friends grilled him about who the girl was he had upstairs with him.

They all gave each other puzzled looks when he remained tight-lipped about it. It wasn't like Chris to withhold information like that. He was usually an open book with them about his sex life, probably giving too much detail. However, this time, he kept the conversation with them vague, a smirk still tugging at the corner of his lip.

It was kind of hard for him to not brag to them about banging his own stepsister, especially because he knew it would earn him high fives, praises, and envious looks, all gestures that would stroke his ego, but he held his tongue.

"Well, whoever you have up there, she sounds like she's enjoying herself," one of his friends commented, slapping him on the back. He avoided eye contact, his cheeks turning a rosy pink color as he suspected that the sounds his friend heard probably came from him, not the girl he had upstairs.

He composed himself, laughing along and playing it off while waiting for the coffee to brew. He gave each of them a joint to keep them satisfied without answering any of their questions, and he made his way back up to your bedroom with a mug in each hand, the whole time thinking about all the ways he was going to ruin you for humiliating him in front of his friends.

#sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #stepbro!chris #sub!chris sturniolo #sub chris sturniolo #sub christopher sturniolo #ᴀʀɪᴇꜱ' ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ .ᐟ ✮⋆˙#ꜱᴛᴇᴘʙʀᴏ.ᐟᴄʜʀɪꜱ .ᐟ ✮⋆˙

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trumanbluee · 11 months ago

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you're the one that i want - deadpool / wade wilson

minors dni !! this is 18+ nsfw material !!!

please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩

based on this request! <3

content: three words, baby! the honda odyssey!

word count: 2.5k

warnings: established relationship, no mention of condom (wrap it b4 u tap it!), petnames galore, deadpool is a warning in of himself lol.

a/n: the deadpool brainrot has been so strong recently so thank u guys so much for all ur requests! my return to my deadpool era couldn't have come at a worse time with my exams happening rn but i will try and write as much as i can! love you!

You'd been sitting in the backseat of the "fuck-ass Honda Odyssey", as Wade had described it, arm resting on the centre console, your head propped up on your palm lamely as you turn it left to right, half-listening to Wade and Logan argue like you're at a tennis match.

You'd almost flown forward into the front of the car when it came to an abrupt stop, tyres screeching as you let out a soft yelp in surprise. Wade hears you, and wordlessly pushes you back softly. You'd heard something spat out from Logan, along the lines of "You'll never save the fucking world!", followed by Wade's voice saying, "I'm gonna fight you now." and then the sound of a sickening crunch as he punches Logan in the nose.

It's milliseconds before you see your boyfriend's arm reach back and open your door, gently ushering you out with a soft, "Why don't you go for a walk, pretty girl?"

You know better than to argue, especially with Logan seething in the front seat, so you hop out of the car, shutting the door behind you as you trudge off into the trees, half grateful for being kicked out of the car so you didn't have to listen to Logan's grumbles when you inevitably had to ask him to pull over so you could pee.

You could hear the yelling and grunting in the distance, shaking your head as you hear the faint shatter of glass, followed by a - less than masculine - squeal from your boyfriend. You laughed to yourself, not worried in the slightest as you hear the fighting between the two, Logan's growls echoing through the trees as he squelches his claws into your boyfriend's stomach.

You'd told Wade to give Logan a break, and that eventually he would find out about his 'educated wish', but he hadn't listened, instead continuing to push and push and push Logan until, expectedly, he reached his breaking point.

You wandered around amongst the trees for a while, before slumping against a tree not too far from the car, your eyes growing heavy as you listened to the soft rustle of the leaves above you.

You wake up groggily, looking around the room as you rub sleep from your eyes. You startle when a red suit appears in front of you, but it's not the Deadpool suit that you're all too familiar with.

"I'm Elektra, that's Gambit," the woman points to a man in a helmet, who's stood in the corner, playing with cards, "and that's Blade," she points over her shoulder with her thumb to the man in a long, leather trench-coat.

"I.. uhm.. Hi?" you say, taken aback by this sudden bombardment of strangers.

"We're helping you and your friends get out of the void." Elektra explains, offering her hand to help you stand up. You take it gratefully.

"...Oh, cool..." you say, still groggy from being asleep for so long. "..are.. are they around?"

Elektra nods, pointing outside with her head, "Yellow's by the fire, Red's... around here somewhere."

You nod, thanking her and smiling awkwardly at Blade and Gambit as you walk outside, the smoke from the fire consuming your nostrils as you step out. You spot Logan by the fire, but see that he's sitting with someone.

'She looks an awful lot like that X-23 girl we saw at the TVA.' you think, not ruling out the possibility that it is her with the level of weirdness that had already occurred during your short time in the void. You tread on, looking around before you spot the Honda Odyssey. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you walk to the drivers door of the car, opening it to reveal your boyfriend in the back-seat, pulling his katana's out of the passenger's seat next to you as you plop into the driver's seat.

He looks up when he hears the car door open, and the white eyes of his mask visible soften as he sees you.

"Hey baby," he coos, scooching forward in the back-seat to press a soft kiss to your cheek through his mask as you sit in the driver's seat, peeking over the headrest to look back at him, "was wonderin' when you were gonna wake up, sleepy head."

You smile softly, before taking a moment to look around at the damage done to the car. Your eyes go wide and your hand flies to your mouth, the other reaching back to swat at Wade's shoulder.

"Wade! What the fuck did you two get up to in here? Jesus Christ!"

You hear a whisper of 'Baby Knife!' followed by a soft grunt as Wade pockets another one of his knives.

"Just some good ol' fashioned fightin', baby! I'm kinda sad you missed it, that shit got good!"

You tut, leaning around the driver's seat to look at him as he's hunched over, digging for another one of his knives beneath the seat.

You hear him mumble something along the lines of 'Hate this fuckin' car' before he shoots up, and you can sense his smile through the mask. He leans back in the seats that are in the very back of the car, right leg thrown over one seat, with his other leg spread, suit-clad knee pressing into the fabric of the other. His eyes sharpen as he looks at you, before groaning softly, throwing his head back in a circle, and sighing.

"Fuck, princess, that fightin's gotten me all worked up," he groans, chin pressed to the top of his chest as he looks at you, eyes narrowed.

You feel your thighs rub together at the way he looks at you, the manspreading the cherry on top of a very, very, delicious looking dessert. He chuckles, gesturing to your thighs with his head.

"Saw that, baby." He laughs to himself before he lifts his hand, beckoning you to him with two fingers, his other hand resting on the headrest of the seat in front of him, twiddling Baby Knife between his fingers.

You squirm in your seat before not so agilely climbing over the centre console, crawling over the seat and onto Wade’s lap. He pockets Baby Knife, bringing a hand up to pull the bottom of his mask up, the other settling on your ass as you straddle his waist.

“Hey doll-face,” he murmurs, smiling and giving your ass a playful squeeze, pulling his mask fully off before placing his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

You moan against his lips as you kiss back, his gloved hand giving your ass a firmer squeeze. Wade uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips as you gasp into his mouth. Your hips grind down subconsciously and he pulls away from the kiss, both of your chests rising quickly as you both try and regain your breath from the heated kiss.

Wade smirks up at you, moving both of his hands to your hips, squeezing softly, pulling a giggle from your lips before he’s engulfing them in another breathless kiss. He moves your hips with his hands, grinding you down on his boner as it tents in his suit, causing him to buck up absentmindedly as he groans into your mouth. Your breathy whimpers vibrate against his lips, and he pulls away, leaning his head back against the headrest behind him.

“…Fuck, doll-face,” he groans, looking up at you, “ look what you're fuckin’ do to me, baby.”

He nods down to his dick, almost bursting out of his suit, and your mouth nearly drops open. Wade thinks to himself that if you were in an animé, you’d have heart emojis bulging from your eyes.

He takes his hands off your hips, crossing his arms behind his head in faux-laziness as he watches you undo the buckle of his belt, slapping the sides of his legs softly, signalling for him to lift his hips.

“Watch it, doll-face.” Wade warns, half-joking, “Ask me nicely, please.”

You groan, giving him your ‘are-you-fucking-serious-right-now’ glare as you tug at his belt. He’d been on the receiving end of this look many times in the past, so he’s unfazed as he chuckles dryly, planting his hips down.

“I can wait, Princess.”

You roll your eyes, huffing. “Please, Wade,” you glare at him, “Will you please lift your hips up so I can get your dick out?”

You add a pout and a flutter of your lashes at the end, and his resolve noticeably crumbles. He huffs, lifting his hips up off the car seat just enough for you to pull down his pants slightly. You dip your hand into his underwear, giving his dick a soft tug before freeing it from the tight pants of his Deadpool suit.

You gather some spit in your mouth, looking at your boyfriend through your lashes before spitting onto the tip of his cock, using your hand to spread it along his length, squeezing softly around the base. Wade groans from below you, his hips bucking into your hand.

“Fuck, hotstuff, ya’ killin’ me here.”

Wade hisses as you squeeze a bit harder around his dick, the pretty ring he’d proposed to you with cold against his skin.

He almost whines, stopping himself by biting his lip, “Oh, c’mon baby, what’d I do to deserve this teasin’, huh? I fought so valiantly against ol’ Wolvie, didn’t I, princess? Don’t I deserve to be treated nicely?”

Something about the whiny-ness of his tone sends a pang to your heart, and pussy, and you grind down against his thigh absentmindedly before putting both your hands on his shoulders.

“Help me out, would ya’, Wadey?” you ask sweetly, shimmying your hips slightly to gain his attention.

His hands fly to your tights, tugging them down your thighs, lifting your legs softly, one by one, and peeling your pants off, leaving you hovering above him in your prettiest pair of panties. You’d been wearing them as a birthday surprise for him, but you’d both been snagged by the TVA before you could put them to good use… until now.

Wade’s breath hitches from beneath you as his eyes land on your panties, his lower lip bitten between his teeth as his chest heaves.

“Fuck, doll-face, what’re you all dressed up for?” he says, tracing a gloved hand over the lacy hem of your white panties, pressing a soft kiss to the little blue bow in the middle, before blowing a puff of cool air onto the damp spot beneath it.

Your legs wobble softly and a shiver runs up your spine, leaving you grateful for your hands planted on your boyfriend's broad shoulders.

You muster the breath to say, “They’re for you, baby… Well, they were for your birthday…”

He groans softly, pressing a soft kiss to your mound before pushing the thin fabric to the side, swiping a gloved finger through your slick.

“Shit, baby.. Y’so wet f’me,” he says, voice breathless. “Fuck those stupid fucking day players, keeping my beautiful fiance, and her beautiful fucking panties from me on my birthday. What assholes, hey baby?” He says, pressing his thumb to your clit harshly as he blows another puff of air onto your slick pussy, causing your hips to buck into the air.

You whine softly, bringing a hand to pump Wade’s cock once again, nodding mindlessly at his question that he knows you didn’t even hear.

Wade chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest and shooting straight to your cunt, your thighs squeezing around his hand as he thumbs your clit lazily.

You shuffle yourself forward on his lap, holding onto Wade’s strong shoulder with your hand, the other slowly pumping his cock as you lift yourself up, breathing hitching as you push yourself down onto the tip of Wade’s dick.

His breath hitches beneath you, rubbing soothing circles on your hips through his gloves as you sink down onto him. His hands grip your hips tighter as he bottoms out, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamp down on his length.

“Shit, baby, I could blow my load right now.” Wade gasps, head thrown back as his grip tightens on your hips, moving you up and down on his cock. You follow suit with his movements, digging your nails into the fabric of his suit as you leverage yourself on his shoulders, pushing yourself up and slamming yourself down on his cock, a moan slipping from your lips at every drag of his dick along your walls.

Your hips stutter slightly, and Wade takes this as his cue, moving his hands from your hips to gain a strong grip on your ass, lifting you up and slamming his hips to meet yours. You whine softly, eyebrows knitting together and biting your lip as the soft squelch of your wetness reverberates around the car, your chest heaving with exertion, skin dewy with a thin sheen of sweat.

You throw your head back, moaning wantonly, one hand coming off of Wade’s shoulder and pressing against the roof of the car.

“...Shit…Wade!” you stammer as he moves one hand to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing harshly on your clit through his glove.

You slam your hips down to meet Wade's quicker, chasing your high as Wade slams his hips up to meet yours, his head thrown back against the head-rest behind him, eyes closed, as he groans softly.

"C'mon, doll-face," Wade grunts from beneath you, rubbing cruel circles on your clit as he bucks into you, "...y'gonna cum? Can feel you squeezing around me, princess."

You moan softly, babbling something like a 'uh-huh' as your eyebrows knit together, eyes shutting tight as you feel the coil building in your lower belly, threatening to snap any moment.

Wade feels you clamping around him, looking up and watching as you throw your head back, your grip on his shoulder tightening.

"That's it, baby," he groans from under you, pinching at your clit meanly causing you to whimper softly, your head coming forward, forehead resting against his as you grind down onto his cock.

"C'mon, hotstuff, give it to me..." he grunts, feeling his own orgasm coming as you clench down on him like a vice, a string of curse words sputtering from your lips as he feels you gush around him.

"...Shit, baby... Good girl," he coos, fucking you through your orgasm as he cums, soft grunts sounding in your ear as he bucks into you before stilling, stopping the movements of his thumb on your clit, as he lifts you up gently and pulls out. He pulls his hand away from your clit, but not before collecting a part of the mixture of yours and his cum on his gloved fingers, pushing it slowly back in to your drooling pussy. You whine, overstimulated, and he tuts, pushing your panties back into place and pulling your pants back up your legs, leaning back in the seat as you slump against his chest.

He smiles, giving your bum a soft pat and pressing a kiss to your hairline, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I lied, doll-face, the Honda Odyssey fucks, hard.”

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

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paulyenvol6 · 1 month ago

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the shirt stays on

I need another three business days to recover from Pedro at Cannes and, obviously I had to write something about the sleeveless look. This is dirty and smutty and involves a strong hand/arm kink of course. I'm so serious, this is the hottest a man has ever looked.

And send me your request please I need inspiration!!

Contains: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f & m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, choking, little bit of biting, ARM AND HAND KINK, Pedro and reader are married, reader is down bad for Pedro, talking of offspring, creampie, size difference, slightest hint of a breeding kink, tooth-rotting fluff, nicknames (baby, sweetpea)

Wordcount: 6,914

Masterlist

"Jesus fucking Christ, Pedro…," you slapped your hand over your mouth, supressing a gasp as your husband turned in circles in front of you.

"Did I promise too much?"

You rolled your eyes and nothing hinted at the fact that your rapidly pounding heart would slow down any time soon.

"You know I'm not gonna be able to let you go like that," you whispered through clenched teeth, but your serious facade crumbled when Pedro approached you, sliding his arms around your waist and palming your flesh.

"Mhmm, is that so?" he whispered in your ear and you reflexively grabbed his bicep, his muscles tantalisingly hard, yet soft under your grip.

"You're fucking killing me, you know that right?" you said, but it sounded more like a cry.

"That's why I'm wearing this. Why else, if not for you?"

You dropped your shoulders, pressed a gentle kiss onto his upper arm, and couldn't stop yourself from carefully grazing his skin with your teeth.

"Careful, sweetheart. I can't walk the red carpet with bite marks all over my body."

"Oh just shut up. As if you wouldn't enjoy the attention…"

Pedro laughed and secured his hold on you, his thumb drawing circles over the small of your back.

"I can't believe you're real," you continued, not scared to freely speak your mind in his presence.

"You have to stop or I'm gonna get out there with my face all flushed from your compliments," he lowly whispered, sounding amused, but then got serious as he cradled your head and kissed your cheek.

"I wish you could come with me," he sighed, pulling back and giving you his puppy eyes that never failed to make you weak in your knees.

"Me too… But you're gonna have a good time. Say hello to Emma from me, will you?"

You smiled as you trailed a hand up his jaw, careful not to mess up his perfectly styled hair.

"I will. And you're gonna stay up for me, right?"

You rolled your eyes, head shaking in disbelief as your feverish skin slowly began to cool down again now that you were starting to get used to his gorgeous appearance. Not that you would ever seriously get used to it, of course. In fact, you believed you would never be the same person you had been three minutes ago. Not after you had seen Pedro looking this gorgeous.

"Of course I will. You think I could even possibly sleep knowing that you're out there looking like this?"

Pedro leaned in to kiss you, the smile glued to his lips and you had no choice but to return it although you already regretted the fact that he was about to leave for a couple of hours.

This was just him. When you saw him happy, your stomach always fluttered with nerves, the little butterflies dancing and rejoicing and your insides turning upside down. And now wasn't an exception, you realised as the adrenaline was pumping through your veins, your fingertips and the end of every nerve in your body prickling with steaming heat.

Your mouth was dry as Pedro took a step back and your eyes involuntarily wandered down his body. The black leather loafers with metallic spikes across the upper part, the high waisted trousers and of course the centerpiece of the outfit, the sleeveless black top that showcased not only his toned bicep, but also the side of his body, due to the deep cutout at the armholes. Something about it genuinely made you feel like Pedro had chosen this outfit just for you, who had a not-so-secret obsession with his arms and hands.

"Oh baby," he now laughed and instead of finally leaving the hotel room, headed back to you and pulled you into yet another hug, this time pressing what felt like a million kisses to your hairline.

"You know I'm a sucker for you being all needy and clingy," he mumbled, holding you snug against his broad chest. You were close to starting to pur like a cat.

"Congrats, then," you whined and dropped your head to his chest, peacefully closing your eyes while inhaling his perfume. To be fair, you didn't really feel at peace. Inside of you, there was a thunder, your stomach unable to settle and the blood in your veins throbbing as if you weren't Pedro's wife of five years, but a teenage girl who had a crush for the first time in her life. You felt hot-headed, your palms sticky with sweat and you didn't even want to think about the state of your underwear. You needed him religiously and part of you couldn't understand that he was about to walk out of the hotel room.

That was until there was a loud knock on the door and Pedro hummed deep in his chest, the vibrations rushing through your body.

"I'll be right there," he shouted and gently lifted your head from his chest. "I'm so fucking sorry, baby."

You definitely didn't want him to feel bad so you forced your lips to curl into a smile, but you weren't successful. Well, maybe it was just that Pedro could read you like a book.

"I'll make it up to you later… You just gotta be patient for a few hours and watch a movie or read a little and then I'll be back and..." - He kissed up your jaw until his lips were pressed to your temple, your pulse rumbling behind your skin - "I won't stop."

You chuckled and stroked down his arms while Pedro watched you with a broad grin.

"I promise, I just won't stop. Gonna stay all night right there between your thighs if that's what you want."

You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck one last time, swaying the both of you to the side while your hot breath brushed over his ear.

"The shirt stays on."

It was almost three hours later now and you were lying on your stomach on the bed, your chin resting on the palm of your hand while you scrolled through your phone feeling bored. You had listened to Pedro's advice and rewatched an old Star Wars movie and although you loved the franchise, your thoughts had occasionally wandered elsewhere. After that, you had tried to read, but it turned out to be even more frustrating because you couldn't focus on the pages, the letters blurring before your eyes while you couldn't ban the picture of Pedro's arms in this goddamn top from your head.

After torturing yourself for another 30 minutes you had given up, went to the bathroom and changed into your favorite set of underwear in a flash of inspiration. It was olive green, simple, but the bra had a little bit of lace tracing the cups. You hoped that once Pedro was back your underwear wouldn't stay on your body for very long, but you sometimes liked to dress up a little bit just to feel even more comfortable and sexy in your skin than he was already capabale of making you feel.

So now you were lying with a jeans and one of Pedro's sweaters hiding the fancy underwear while scrolling through instagram. Of course your feed was full of pictures of your husband and you were soon to figure out that it wasn't helping your situation. Each image was more beautiful than the last: his adorable smile when he faced the cameras, the wink of his eye and the way his bicep flexed when he hugged one of his fellow cast members.

Your breathing was heavy and longing as your eyes were fixed on the small screen, your pupils flickering to the time every few minutes. As if the wait wasn't already long enough, you knew he was at a press conference at that very moment, so it would certainly be another 30 minutes before he got back to the hotel.

You sighed and dropped your head so that your forehead rested on your phone while your legs were dangling in the air. Your thoughts unconsciously wandered to Pedro again. If you hadn't known how much your husband enjoyed your swooning and yearning, you certainly would have felt bad. But Pedro was never shy to admit that he loved to feel desired by you and lord have mercy, you were happy to oblige.

The position with your brow touching your phone display turned out to be surprisingly comfortable which was why you remained like that. Your eyes were closed, Pedro appearing before you in short periods of time and your ribcage expanding with steady, but heavy breaths.

Soon you noticed that the air in the hotel room was too warm and stuffy so you propped yourself on your elbows and then crawled off the bed to open a window. It was still warm outside, but it was definitely better than the stifling, thick air in here. You were just about to turn around to get back on the bed when you suddenly heard a noise outside your room and froze, your pulse loud in your ears.

When the door opened, your heart skipped a beat or two and your adrenaline made you run the few feet separating you from Pedro and jump in his arms. He deeply laughed, but caught you in the air, securing you with his arms sliding around your waist as you trapped him with your legs crossed behind his back.

"I missed you so much," you complained against his neck, your hands playing with the baby hair in his nape that you finally got to touch without the fear of ruining his perfectly styled curls and getting in trouble with Coco.

"Mhmmm I missed you too," Pedro replied while turning around so he could close the door behind him without having to put you down. The fact that he was able to carrry you so casually with one arm made a very familiar wetness soak your underwear and you giggled against his collarbone, inhaling the smell of sun and him.

"Pedro," you whined, not exactly sure what you were asking him for.

"I know," he answered nevertheless, the sound of his voice making your pussy throb and you reflexively started to rock your center against his abdomen.

"Gonna take care of you now, baby."

Your eyes rolled back at the promise and you were just about to surrender to the body contact and let yourself go with your eyes shut close, but then your mushy brain remembered what you had yearned for all night and your gaze instantly fell upon his bicep again that was flexed from carrying your weight. Of course Pedro noticed it and of course he reacted with a wry grin, his eyes glistening with the same beautiful spark he had left you with three hours ago.

"I know, I know, baby," he just whispered and lowly chuckled when he felt you stroke up and down his arm, your pupils blown and your expression in awe of the smooth skin covering his thick muscles.

"All of the Marvel training," he then giggled and tensed his bicep on purpose just to watch your eyes widen.

"Pedro," you moaned once more, your inability to speak clearly apparent to both of you, but Pedro knew what you wanted anyway.

"Don't be shy," he hissed, one hand on your back travelling south to dig into where your back met your ass crease.

"You know I want you to take from me what you want. You can touch it and bite and lick it… Whatever you want, sweetheart, you know that."

You whimpered again, perhaps overhelmped with the options, your eyes frantically springing between his hands, underarms and shoulders. Deciding to leave the choice for later, you pressed your mouth against his, your lips greedily sucking at his bottom lip while you buried your hands into his muscles, tracing the outlines of his bicep and kneading the flesh which soon made Pedro groan.

"Jesus… you're killing me, baby."

Your pulse thundered up your throat and you couldn't remember ever wanting someone or something as much as you wanted him. Your body was so hot, you were convinced you would go up in flames if you wouldn't take some of your clothes off soon. On that note, Pedro was clearly aware that the oversized hoodie you were drowning in belonged to him because he fisted the fabric and chuckled deeply while you were still busy exploring every inch of his arms that were covered with a thin layer of sweat, either caused by the warm temperatures in Cannes or by what was happening right now. You preferred to think that it was the latter.

"I think I know this one…," he whispered referring to the hoodie, his jaw clenching when he slipped his hands under the piece of clothing and palmed your waist.

"Just missed you," you whined and now kissed your way down to his shoulder where you were finally allowed to bury your teeth into his skin, careful not to hurt him of course. Pedro gasped, slightly throwing his head back as he traced along your ribs and spine in turns.

"You wanna get on the bed, sweetpea?" he growled, the nickname much too soft and sweet for his husky voice, but you nodded with your head, tightening your arms around his neck while he carried you over to the big hotel bed.

He carefully lay you down on your back his hands unwillingly leaving your waist to rub his palms together as his hungry eyes followed every move and twitch of your body. The hoodie had slid up your body a little and the thin strip of bare skin was enough for Pedro to bite his lip and wipe over his brow with the back of his hand.

"Shit, baby… You look so pretty with my hoodie on."

Then he adjusted his shirt, prompting you to immediately let out a whine of complaint, as you were scared he was about to take it off. But Pedro just shook his head in amusement and then leaned down to take off his shoes that were probably worth more than this whole trip to Cannes.

"Don't worry, sweetpea. I promised you it's gonna stay on."

Once he had carelessly kicked them off, his mind somewhere else already he finally approached the bed. Your legs were pressed together, the heat pooling in between almost making you squeal with frustration although you knew that Pedro was about to make it better just like he always made things better.

"Please," you still whispered when he knelt on the bed and reached out to cradle your head.

"What, baby? Tell me what you want."

Mindless thoughts flickered in your head as you tried to get a hold on yourself, at least to be able to form a coherent sentence and tell him what you wanted.

"I wanna taste you," you eventually moaned, your eyes already on the outline of the tent beneath his trousers.

"Oh Christ, baby…," he swallowed to fight his dry throat, but moved closer to kiss you. "You sure you don't want me to take care of you first?"

"Yes, I'm sure," you whispered against his soft lips, clutching the fabric of his tight black top and feeling his firm torso through your fingertips. Pedro took your bottom lip between his and sucked it softly until he released it with a plop. He then took in the needy glint in your eyes.

"Alright…," he murmured and sank down on the mattress once you made room for him, his back resting against the wall behind the bed and his legs slightly parted.

Meanwhile, you moved to settle between his legs, your hands splayed across his thighs and the cool fabric of his pants a thrilling contrast to your feverish and sweaty palms. And then you ran your gaze up his body and you almost let out an involuntary moan. Of course you knew how fit Pedro was – you would have to be blind to miss the effects of the intense training for the fantastic four movie on his body, but this outfit made them especially visible. You just couldn't get over the veins on his wrists and the way his hugs bicep jiggled every time he made a sudden movement.

You must have been a sight, staring at him with round eyes, your lips dry and a stunned expression on your face while you couldn't get a word out. Pedro smirked again and reached out to touch your elbows, slowly trailing up your arms until he put them on your shoulders.

"You know I love seeing you wearing my clothes, but can I take this off?" he asked, rubbing the fabric between his fingertips.

You gave a nod and helped him by lifting your arms so he could pull the hoodie over your head and throw it on the floor next to the bed. You could see the bob of his adam's apple and the deep gulp as his gaze fell upon your stomach and chest that was beautifully hugged by the olive green bra. Pedro would never hesitate to tell you that he loved the way you looked, no matter what you were wearing, and that he would still be swooing over you even if you wore a garbage bag. But when you felt especially confident in your favourite underwear, he was a fan of that too. Your comfort in your own body made your whole appearance glow — a beautiful light surrounding your frame as you sat on your heels in front of Pedro. He truly felt like the luckiest man alive.

"My god…," he said, his voice quiet, but thick with awe and silent appreciation.

When he brought his hand to your waist you leaned in to his touch, pressing yourself against him while he palmed your flesh. The motion was more than convenient for the both of you because he got to feel the softness of your flush skin while you were able to see his bicep flex, the dim light in the hotel room emphasising every curve and line so stunningly.

The two of you remained in this position for a little longer before you couldn't hold back any more and placed your hand on his dick that pressed hard against his pants. He hissed out through gritted teeth, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes followed the movement of your hand. You slowly began to palm him, your hand massaging the bulge that felt firm and hard against you. Pedro's hand on your side tensed as his tip twitched and you could feel his fingers digging into your flesh, stinging, but showing you the arousing impact of your actions.

"Fuck. Baby, fuck…"

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, giving him a broad smik while feeling him grow harder under your touch. Soon it wasn't enough for either of you, Pedro biting his lip bloody while you were yearning for a taste of him so you stopped palming him through his pants and instead fumbled with the zip of his pants. Once you had opened the button and started to shove them down his hips, he lifted them to help you. When they dangled around his knees, you did the same procedure to his boxers, your eyes tearing at your desire for him at the sight of his stiff, leaking dick that looked like it desperately craved a release.

Pedro's eyes followed yours, but before he could run his dirty mouth again, you had already lowered your head and pressed little kisses on his length. He clearly hadn't expected you to go straight to work because he gasped and jerked forward, his hands reflexively reaching for your head.

"Jesus!" he spitted out, his mouth falling open as you showered his dick with as much adoration and affection as you possibly could. You traced along every vein and line, licking off every drop of precum and pumping with your hands what you couldn't reach with your mouth.

You loved the way he felt around your hand, the skin soft, sleek and warm and almost a little silky when you went up and down his shaft. And the way he tasted… Musky and salty, but there was another note that you weren't able to identify. It was just him and you couldn't get enough of it.

"Sweetpea, I'm not gonna last long," he warned you after a while, his grip around your scalp tight, but not to guide or force you, but rather to cling to something while you made him lose his mind.

"Mhmm, okay," you teased, rubbing with your thumb over his tip while your tongue trailed a line down his dick to kitten-lick his balls.

"Jesus, baby… God, you needa… Fuck…," he stuttered, unable to speak his mind, but you just giggled and suddenly felt very powerful with him falling apart under your touch.

"That's perfect," he growled, eyes rolled back in his head as you finally took him down your throat, not very deep, but enough to bob your head around his length. You reminded yourself to slide your tongue around his glans from time to time, knowing how sensitive he was there and it most certainly had the desired effect.

"Baby, I'm serious. I'm really fucking close," he panted, his pupils struggling to focus on you as they threatened to drift upward at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around him. Pedro gave your hair a gentle tug that finally made you stop and you darted up to him.

"You don't wanna cum?" you asked, your lips forming a playful pout that made him groan once more.

"Shit, of course I wanna cum, but I need to take care of you first."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and so did your dripping pussy that painfully clenched, your clit throbbing for any kind of friction.

"C'mon. Lay down, okay? Gonna make you feel really good," he breathed, still trying to control his pounding heart and exhaled when you pulled off him with a wet sound and sat back on your heels.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you're gonna kill me," Pedro whispered more to himself while making room so you could lay down where he had rested with his head against the bedrest a second ago.

"Pedro?" you quietly asked once your head touched the cushions.

"Yeah?"

"Choke me."

He lowly chuckled, a dark sparkle lighting up his already deep brown eyes and you knew exactly what it meant. It meant that he was deep in and would do anything you asked him of. Anything for a single twitch of your body or roll of your hips.

He didn't reply with his words, but with his hands. He gently - almost to give you a taste of what was coming – caressed your neck, two fingers trailing up and down the sensitive skin while settling between your spread, welcoming legs. You took a deep breath, shuddering at the way Pedro regarded your body, which was still hidden by far too many layers of fabric and then almost felt disappointed when the hand on your neck, so deliciously close to doing what you needed so badly, traveled south, trailing a line between your clothed breasts to help his other hand undress you. He skillfully opened the button and zip of your jeans and swiftly pulled them down your legs along with your lovely underwear that unfortunately didn't get a lot of attention right now. Neither of you cared though.

"You don't know how much I love you, sweetpea," Pedro whispered, shaking his head like he couldn't believe you were real and palmed your hip in his large hand.

Although there truly was a lot to see between your thighs, you couldn't help yourself and your gaze unconsciously was on his hands and arms again that gleamed so wonderfully in the light. He looked strong, yet soft and you loved the way his muscles moved when he was turning or adjusting you beneath him.

"I love you too, Pedro," you whispered, but he was already one step ahead and watched your pussy like it was the first time he had ever seen one. His eyes and facial expressions radiated so much love and admiration, you felt like you were about to explode with joy. Your heart was pounding rapidly but you couldn't tell whether it was from your arousal and excitement or the love you felt for him.

"So goddamn pretty," he mumbled and then placed his hands on your inner thighs and spread you wide for him so he could have the first taste of tonight. Pedro circled your entrance with the tip of his tongue, savouring your salty, prickling wetness in relief and while he tried to take his time and enjoy each moment and impression, he simply was too eager to toy with you for long.

The rest of his face was pressed against your pussy and while he dipped inside of you with his tongue, his nose scrunched against your clit, finally helping you fight the burning heat that had previously made the bundle of nerves shudder and tremble with anticipation. But he knew too well what he was doing and managed to please your pussy only with his face to an extent where you felt that it wouldn't take you long to orgasm. Who could blame you, really? This whole afternoon had basically been one long, tormenting period of foreplay with Pedro looking this handsome and his arms being so stunningly on display.

He was far from being finished though. Sensing how you buckled and your hips shifted under him, he brought a hand up to continue those torturing strokes across your neck that you had gotten a taste of earlier while moving his tongue upward to focus on your clit. He used his spit and your wetness that he had collected on the flat of his tongue to circle it, pressing loving kisses all over it like he wanted to show you his affection this way. Your body naturally reacted to his tongue, your hips rolling in accordance to create more friction and encourage him to give you more, give it to you harder and – most importantly – not to stop, but your eyes were on his arms.

You just couldn't help yourself; with his hand teasing your neck you had a perfect view on his underarm and you had a feeling Pedro exactly knew what he was doing. You were so focused on his arms, a work of art in themselves, that you didn't see it coming when he suddenly choked you. The restriction of air made you gasp and your eyes sprang open.

"Is that what you want?" he teased and you were not sure if his words were dirty talk or if he actually wanted reassurance that you were giving him your clear consent. You nodded, your eyes pleadingly devouring his bicep while the sensation of his large hand wrapped around your neck sent you into insanity. And then the stimulation on your clit… You could have died right on the spot and you would have thanked every god there was.

"Fuck," you choked, your own hand coming to rest on top of his, but not to gesture him to stop, but to trace his veins and tendons. Soon that wasn't enough though, especially having in mind that his gorgeous arm was so close, right in front of your face so both of your hands traveled down to his underarm just to feel him. His flesh seemed to burn from inside, his skin as hot and feverish as you felt. Whenever he squeezed you tighter, your muscles tensed and you let out a little whine. Pedro noticed this and, keen to reward you, gave you a special treat and did it as often as he could.

By now his expensive black top was soaked with sweat, but he couldn't have cared less. How could he with this sight and especially this taste on his tongue. He was aware of every single reaction of your body, the way your pussy clenched and your hips arched off the bed whenever he took your clit between his teeth to gently nibble, your desperate sighs when he squeezed your throat and the way you licked over your lips, blushing over his arms. He would definitely keep this shirt, no matter what.

'Pedro, I'm gonna cum, fuck...' you told him, your teeth clattering together and your neck flexing beneath his touch. Your fingertips pressed into the flesh of his arms, your nails leaving a slight sting while uncontrollable pleasure took over you and you writhed underneath him.

"Yes, there you go, baby…," Pedro soothed you, keeping his grip on your hip firm while his other hand relaxed around your throat so it wouldn't become too much.

"Cum for me… Let go, sweetpea, wanna taste it all."

A muffled cry left your throat, your lips still pressed shut while your eyebrows drew together and little shock waves went through your body.

"Yes, there you go…," Pedro smiled proudly, his tongue gliding up and down your slit to savour your juices for as long as possible while your spinning head took in his hand that was now loosely resting on top of your chest, his thumb drawing soothing circles over your skin.

"Ohh god…," you whispered and fell on your back, your chest rising heavily and the blood pumping in your veins. You felt messy with drops of sweat pooling on your forehead, but when Pedro looked up to you with his soft puppy eyes you forgot everything about it and melted on the spot.

"Have I ever told you how sweet you taste?" he growled while crawling up to cage you beneath him.

"I think so," you giggled, too weak though to slide your arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry," you then whispered with an apologetic look on your face and Pedro lifted his eyebrows in confusion.

"For what?"

"That you have to wear this top in this heat. You must be melting."

He twisted his lips and propped himself on his elbows next to your head.

"Not because of the top," he mumbled while connecting his lips with your chin, leaving gentle kisses as he made his way up to your neck where he kissed the faint pink marks he had left.

"You okay? Wasn't too much?" he wanted to make sure, the sound of his voice muffled against your skin.

"No," you grinned, finally finding the strength to grab his bicep, which you were sure was covered in scratch marks. It was nothing unusual, though. The two of you loved to show the world who each of you belonged to, even if, in many cases, you did it in places that no one else got to see anyway.

"Pedro?" you asked which made him glance up to you without pulling away from your hot skin.

"I want you to fuck me."

You felt him tense at your words, his hand grabbing your shoulder more firmly as he started to kiss up your collarbone.

"Lemme get a condom…," he whispered while unwillingly drawing away from you to reach to the nightstand, but you were quicker and trapped him with your legs wrapped around his hips.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" Pedro asked in confusion, but stopped in the motion to look at your face that gave him a loving smile.

"We talked about it," you said, looking down to where your hands were playing with themselves. "And I thought we both… We agreed, right?"

His expression was unreadable at first, but then he bit on his lip and sighed out.

"Yeah. We have."

You chuckled and he immediately joined, but then he stroked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's just… It's kind of scary when we actually do it, don't you think so? You know… the fact that there's a chance you could actually get pregnant. I – I would like that… Of course I would like that" – his lips curled into a sweet smile – "It's just kind of surreal."

You nodded in agreement and took hold of his face, making him look into your eyes.

"I know. But yeah… I think we should do it. Everything's perfect right now, you know?"

He nodded and then gently peeled off your hand to kiss your wrist, his brown eyes big as he didn't broke eye contact for a mere second. And there you were melting away under his gaze as his lips caressed the thin skin on your wrist where your pulse was so loud and rapid, you thought that he had to hear it too.

"Yes," he said, his breath tingling on your skin and then he kissed you one last time before carefully putting your hand down on your stomach.

"I love you, sweetpea. So so much. And I wanna have a child with you."

You heart skipped a beat just like it always did whenever Pedro said the L-word. After five years of marriage you still had this kind of physical reaction to it which amazed you.

"I love you, Pedro. Now fuck me," you hissed, your eyes sparkling and your teeth bared as you already eyed down his broad body.

"Can't have a cute fucking moment with my wife because she can't get a hold on herself…," Pedro playfully rolled his eyes, but adjusted himself between your legs.

You were still giggling when he wrapped a hand around his shaft to align himself with your quivering entrance, your swollen clit eager for his touch again, but he teased you for a bit, avoiding the little nub on purpose. When his tip prodded your hole you prepared yourself for the slight stretch that was always involved when he fucked you and you inhaled deeply while Pedro waited for your approval which you gave him with a nod.

"Relax, baby," he breathed as he slowly eased himself inside you and fortunately, you were so wet that you took him without any problems.

"Jesus!" he cursed once he was inside of you to the hilt and glanced down to you, who had your face drawn with sheer pleasure.

He was big yes, bigger than any dick you had ever seen, but tonight when your pussy had been yearning for him all day, your entrance was more than happy to smoothly welcome him inside you.

"You feel so good, shit… Please, look at me. Need to see you, baby."

You had closed your eyes, focusing on all the ways you felt him so deep inside of you, the veins on his shaft excitingly pressing and rubbing against your walls, but then they fluttered open at his words.

"You're fucking perfect," he murmured through clenched teeth and leaned in to kiss the tip of your nose while he rolled his hips to pull out of you and started fucking you at a steady pace.

"Pedro, fuck… Need…"

You couldn't finish the sentence, the words stuck in your throat, but your affectionate husband kissed up your temple, softly humming against your skin.

"What do you need? Tell me, baby, c'mon…"

"Need to cum again," you whimpered, buckling your hips to meet his deep thrusts.

"I know, I know... Don't you worry, m'gonna get you there. Just relax for me, alright? And breathe…"

You literally felt him everywhere. His hand had reached between your thighs the moment he had started fucking you to rub small and percise circles on top of your clit. You were in awe of how well he was able to coordinate his movements in his state because you were sure were you the one to touch yourself right now, you wouldn't be able to aim correctly. And then there was his mouth everywhere he could reach. Pressing kisses all over your face, your nose, your jaw, next to your ear and down to your neck and chest where your bra was half-off, the straps loosely around your shoulder and your breasts bare on display for him. You seriously wondered how Pedro managed to focus on so many things at the same time because you already had struggles breathing, whereas he fucked, fingered and kissed you at the same time.

You let out a broken moan and could literally feel him smiling against your collarbone when your hands tightly gripped his bicep, obviously not only to hold on to him, but also to knead his firm flesh. Part of you wished there was better lighting in your hotel room, the sky outside dark by now, but of course there was no way you would stop him right now to turn on the brighter ceiling lamp. This would have to do, and feeling his muscles under your palms was already more than one could wish for.

Now that he was propping himself up on his elbow, he had to keep his muscles tense at all times, which was very convenient for you. You were almost in awe, your lips parted and your eyes round as coins while you traced every curve and curvature, every inch of skin as if you wanted to worship it.

"Oh baby, I'm gonna fill you up so well," Pedro interrupted your silent admirations and you averted your gaze from his arms for a moment to look at him. "But first I need you to cum again, alright? Need you to come around my dick."

His finger on your bundle of nerves fastened up at his words and you threw your head to the side, your heels digging into the mattress in search of release.

"I know, sweetpea," Pedro growled at your whine that almost sounded like you were in pain and rolled your clit between two fingers.

"You can cum… It's alright, you can let go whenver you want to…"

And so you did. Seconds after the words had left his mouth, your second orgasm of the night rolled over you, knocked all the air out of your lungs and made your whole body tense up. You arched off the bed, presenting yours breasts to Pedro so prettily that he leaned down to take one nipple between his lips, but then suddenly grunted as the clenching of your pussy drove him over the edge as well.

It really was poetic, the two of you reaching your highs almost at the exact same time and as Pedro spasmed in your hole, slowly riding out his orgasm you collapsed on the bed, utterly exhausted after two highs. It was an unfamiliar feeling to be filled up by him, but not an unpleasant one. The ropes of cum felt warm and sticky inside of you, almost as if your pussy was overflowing with your own juices.

"Holy shit…," Pedro now growled, his face buried in your neck while his rapidly heaving chest crashed against yours. The weight of his body pressed against yours aroused you more than it probably should and once again, you ran your hands up and down his arms and shoulders, savouring the gorgeous picture of him in this goddamn top as long as it lasted.

He also seemed to welcome your soothing hands, softly humming as the two of you calmed down in each other's presence.

"That was so perfect," you whispered and brought one hand to the back of his head to play with his locks.

"Yeah," Pedro agreed, moving on top of you to withdraw his flaccid dick from your dripping entrance.

"Oh baby…," was all he could say and closed his eyes as a gust of wind from the open window sent a shiver down his spine.

You remained in this position for a little while longer, feeling content and peaceful as you listened to the other person's heartbeat. Eventually, however, the cool air from outside made it inevitable for Pedro to roll off you and slip under the blanket, leaving you to regret the replacement of Pedro with the silky fabric of the blanket.

He was quick to pull you toward him though and instantly wrapped his strong arms around your head to keep you snug against his chest. You both smelled of sweat and exhaustion, but neither of you cared. The chirping of distant birds and crickets from outside was beautiful background music to the serene scene and soon you felt yourself drift off to sleep, but before you could Pedro cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over the corner of your mouth.

"There's a chance that I just got you pregnant," he whispered, sounding torn between amusement and excitement.

"Mhmm yes," you answered and giggled when you felt a hand pressing down on your lower tummy.

"It would be nice, right?" Pedro asked and opened his eyes into yours. Despite the darkness, you were still able to make out his pupils and twisted your lips into a smile.

"Yes. It would be… perfect."

You gave each other one last grin before Pedro cradled your head and guided it down to nestle against his chest, his heartbeat evenly thundering in your ear while you closed your eyes, expecting sleep to take over soon.

And it did. You were still thinking about what Pedro had said, and the image of him and you with a baby was so clear in your mind that you could almost see it.

It was a nice thought to fall asleep on and when Pedro grabbed your hand and his thumb gently brushed your knuckles, you somehow knew the two of you were thinking the same thing.

#pedro x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n

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ogwintersmind · 3 months ago

Text

Wake up.

You were gone. Katsuki would return to an empty home, your coat still hanging by the door, your pictures still on the wall. The house was full of reminders, echoes of you in every corner—memories that would never fade. But that's all you'd soon be. A memory.

He rushed to your side, pulling you into his arms. “Don’t close your eyes… Stay with me, ok? Help is on the way.” But deep down, both of you knew it was hopeless. Shigaraki had done too much damage, and you'd lost too much blood.

“I shouldn't have kept fighting… I’m sorry. Promise me you'll move on. Be happy, okay? Don't blame yourself. His heart clenched as he watched the light in your eyes slowly fade. He pulled you closer, His voice trembling. “Shh… don't say that, idiot. Stay with me. Please... Don't close your eyes..”

“I’m sorry, Kats... I think I'm gonna go now. I'll make it up to you when we meet again, okay? I love you.” And with that, your pulse faded, and your body went limp. You were gone. He tried to pull you closer—if possible, to wake you, but the warmth was already gone; nothing but cold, lifeless skin beneath his touch.

He felt like he couldn't breathe. His mind was racing, trying to find a reason, a way to make sense of it. But there was nothing, just your lifeless body in his arms. Why would the universe take such a good person away? His person. “Wake up…” his voice was soft at first as he shook your body gently. “Wake up! Damn it. Wake up!” he was desperate, his hands gripped you tighter, shaking you harder. The tears streaming down his face were inevitable. “Please, wake up..” he closed his eyes and pleaded with the world.

When Katuski opened his eyes he was met with the ceiling. Instead of being on his knees in the middle of a battlefield, he was in bed, small beads of sweat on his forehead, his heart racing. Your soft breathing was the only sound that broke the deafening silence. He realized with a shudder that it was all just a nightmare.

He turned to face your sleeping form and reached out to you. His hand brushed your arm and he signed in relief. You were still here, warm and alive. “Hey…Wake up,” he whispered while gently shaking you awake.

You stirred in your sleep, groaning softly, before opening your eyes and shooting him an annoyed glance. Why the heck was he shaking you awake at— what was it, 2/3 a.m.??

“What’s wrong? Why’re you up, go back to sleep.” you lie back down with your back facing him. He huffs in annoyance. “Why’re you all the way over there? Come here,” he says while making you face him, pulling you closer to him. Tightly wrapping his strong arms around your body.

“You woke me up so you could cuddle me? You're so annoying.” he rolled his eyes and squeezed you. “That's not why I woke you up, smartass. I had a bad dream. I needed to make sure you were ok..” you didn't say anything. He’s been having these dreams on and off since you first started dating, so you were somewhat used to it. You opened your eyes and placed a kiss on his lips. “I'm right here crybaby. Not going anywhere. I promise.” he opened his eyes and gave you a small but genuine smile. “I know. I love you.” he returned your kiss. “Go back to sleep. We’ll take it when we wake up.” he hummed in response. He loves you so much, he wished the dreams would stop, but a small part of him loved it when he'd wake up and you'd wipe his tears when there were some and hold him until he fell asleep again. He was a little scared to go back to sleep but he knew you were ok Ansell, and that he'd see that pretty face all over again when he woke up.

I wanted to give angst a try, was it gooood??!

I hope you enjoyed reading! (the end was rushed srry)

Feel free to leave request!

Thanks for reading, bye friends!

XO- Winter ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

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iamthatonefangirl · 14 days ago

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early morning - nsfw fatws bucky barnes

this is a short one based on this ask 🫶🫶🫶

~~~

it was early in the morning, the sun barely yet risen above the horizon. in an ideal world, you'd still be in bed snuggled up against Bucky for a few more hours until you got up and enjoyed a lazy day around the house with him.

you don't live in an ideal world. you still have to get up and go to work, and he's getting ready to leave for a few weeks. unfortunate.

so running on next to no sleep, you drag yourself out of bed, taking care not to wake the man still resting next to you. it's far more difficult for him to get to sleep than it is for you, and you're not about to interrupt him for anything.

you wrap your robe around yourself without caring to tie it, slipping your feet in your slippers and making your way to the kitchen.

coffee, food, shower. that was all that was on your mind as of yet.

as you hunched over the counter, you shut your eyes in your sleepy state and listened to the coffee machine whir, impatiently waiting for it to finish brewing.

you hear a shuffling in the hall before you feel him stepping up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck.

"g'morning, baby," he mumbles. he's even less awake than you are.

"you should still be in bed, Bucky," you mumble as you turn around to him. his arms never leave you as you move to face him, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"no, baby, I shouldn't. 'm gonna miss you, wanna spend every minute with you," he says, leaning his head against your shoulder to press gentle kisses to your neck.

it's so soothing, you lean your head onto his and bring a hand to gently massage the back of his scalp as he kisses your skin.

the coffee machine finishes a moment later, and he steps away and towards the fridge as you pour a large mug for yourself. you're in desperate need of caffeine.

"you want whipped cream?" he asks, the light from the fridge spilling out into the kitchen.

it's something funny, he thinks, to put whipped cream on hot coffee. you've completely turned him, though, and now neither of you can have a cup without it.

you hum in approval and he returns to his spot behind you, uncapping the bottle and squirting a hefty amount of cream into your mug over your shoulder.

the way you dip your finger into the cream and bring it to your mouth, accidentally smearing it over your lips, awakens something in him. maybe it's the fact that he's dreading leaving for the next two weeks, unable to hold you close every night and make love to you day in and day out.

"neither of us leave until I fuck you one more time," he says into your ear, nipping at the cartilage there, and it makes you laugh softly into the quiet of the room.

"I have to get ready for work," you respond, turning to face him, mug abandoned behind you on the counter.

"but I'm leaving," he protests, dragging out the words with a soft whine.

"and you'll be back soon. you can fuck me then," you smile.

he pouts at you, wanting nothing more than to feel you right now.

you should tell him 'no' when he begins to push the fabric of your robe off your shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. you should be focused on getting in the shower instead of letting him peel your shirt over your head, joining your robe on the floor.

but the feel of his hands on your skin, up and down your sides, kneading at the flesh at your breasts makes you forget about work.

he's right. he's leaving. so what's the harm?

you're shocked at the cool feeling on your skin when you realize he's got the bottle of whipped cream in hand, dragging it over your chest as it dispenses cream, followed by his warm tongue lapping it up.

"fuck, Bucky," you mumble, bringing your hands to his head, fully giving into his every whim.

you watch as he keeps going, trailing the bottle down the center of your chest, over your nipples, everywhere.

you're really going to need a shower now.

he drops to his knees in front of you, pulling at your sleep shorts, drawing them to your ankles as he leans in closer.

"keep that bottle away from anywhere down there," you tell him firmly, but you can't help but laugh as you say it.

"come on, baby, it's just you and me," he retorts, but does as you say and places it back on the counter. he leans in, spreading your thighs just enough for him to work his tongue in between them. he finds you already drenched by time his mouth is on you.

"so good for me," he tells you before licking you again. "taste so good, you know that?"

you're still holding him by the hair, gently tugging him closer as you try to grind up against the lower half of his face.

"want pictures of your fingers in this pretty pussy every day, you hear me?" he smirks, and you nod, happy to oblige him.

"gonna miss eating you while I'm gone," he mumbles.

"shut up and make me come," you hurriedly tell him, pushing his face against you once more.

he smirks against you, working faster and finally putting his mouth to better use.

neither of you can wait for the day he comes home and falls to his knees for you once more.

~~~

masterlist

join my tag list

bucky tag list part 1: (send an ask or dm to be removed)

@starfly-nicole @avengersfan25 @thewiselionessss @hextech-bros @a-book-lover-things @ruexj283 @mrsnikstan @sleepysongbirdsings @sapphirebarnes @multiversefanfics @winchestert101 @andziabarnes @chrisevansleftnipple @daisydark @luckyhornet @maryevm @avengemepercy @mandoloriancookie @starstruck-cowgirl @doubledizzy22 @yvespecially @shereadzzz @blaineandergel @flow33didontsmoke @iiamlynn @belovedmoony @tellybearryyyy @doilooklikeagiveafrack @analovesmarvel @izzy698 @ketchumid24 @annabethboleyn @luv4koo @buckyseternaldoll @planetzeidy @thegirlfatherr @cieraboobear @wint3rbarnes

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #fem reader #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #iamthatonefangirl

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starmocha · 4 months ago

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OK, fuck it, I'll throw this idea out into the universe. Very, very rough. And I will never complete this story lmao ✌️ I was gonna do bullet points, but I am also incapable of making things easy for myself. 😔

Caleb/MC/Zayne love triangle AU where Caleb and MC had a secret relationship prior to chapter 4 that resulted in a pregnancy that won't be discovered until after The Explosion.

When U Come Back

All it took was one second for her world to disappear.

One moment she was speaking with Caleb outside Grandma Josephine's home, their conversation tensed because of a disagreement, and suddenly before she could even realize what had happened, she found herself crumbled on the floor, hearing flames crackling, the scorching heat like hellfire surrounding her.

There was an explosion. Her mind was in a frenzy as it tried to register the scene before her. Right, an explosion. Her hand was on the door handle. Caleb had gone in first and just as she was about to follow suit, she was blown back and now she lay there, her vision failing.

Caleb...Caleb...!

His necklace lay in front of her on the ground. No. It couldn't be.

Caleb!

She shakily reached for his necklace, grasping tightly as her consciousness slipped away.

When she regained consciousness later, she found herself in a hospital room.

Confused, completely disoriented, she barely registered the tears running down her face until the door opened and Zayne walked in, his eyes widened in concern.

"Doctor...Zayne...?" She still hadn't realized her cheeks were wet with tears, only being able to focus on the heavy pounding in her chest. "I...I had a bad dream...why...why am I here?"

Zayne drew in a breath. He steadied his own breathing, mindful of his tone as he questioned her gently.

"Do you not remember anything that happened earlier?"

A knot formed in her stomach.

"No," she said hesitantly, hoping the scene still vivid in her head was unreal. "I...I don't..."

Zayne understood the situation, knowing she was still in shock so he wasn't going to pressure her. He did know, unfortunately, that she needed to hear the truth.

"I'm sorry," he said, his chest tightening when he saw that flicker of fear in her eyes, "Miss Josephine and Caleb are both...deceased."

She started laughing, nearly crying in hysterics. "That's not a funny joke, Zayne."

He was quiet.

"Caleb and I had an argument earlier," she continued, speaking more to herself. Her words were pouring out frantically as fresh tears rushed down her cheeks. "We had an argument. We were going to make up later. We never go to bed angry at each other. We were..."

"I'm sorry."

There was a knock at the door and a nurse entered, apologizing quietly to the young doctor. She mentioned there were detectives who wished to speak with the patient. Zayne sent her away, saying the patient needed some time to calm down first.

Zayne stayed with her the whole time, feeling his own grief at losing a childhood friend as well.

Some time passed. She returned to work with bags under eyes, looking malnourished. She hadn't had much of an appetite lately, and sleep scared her. She found herself dreaming of that evening over and over again, reliving that moment when she and Caleb were upset at one another.

They were supposed to make up. They always made up. She caressed his necklace in her hand, her thumb brushing over the pendant, tracing the engraved message:

When U come back

Her co-workers chimed in that she should take time off. Captain Jenna herself even said the Hunters Association offered bereavement leave, but the moment she heard that term, she unknowingly shot her superior a look of intense hatred.

There were startled gasps around her, breaking her out of her stupor. She immediately apologized once she realized what she had done. She didn't want to hear that word, or any similar words that would remind her that Caleb was gone.

No one was angry at her. They were all concerned for her, seeing she was wasting away, destroying herself as she grieved.

Tara offered to take her home, helped her as she needed. Captain Jenna also issued this as an order, knowing she wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Before she could protest, she suddenly felt dizzy, feeling an intense migraine and a fatigue unlike any she had felt before in her life. As she collapsed, she heard her co-workers crying out her name, and in her hand, she grasped Caleb's necklace tighter, the last thing she heard before blacking out was hearing Caleb’s voice calling her:

Pipsqueak, I’ll always be by your side.

Another hospital room.

She stared at the ceiling, still feeling fatigued. It was bound to happen, she realized, knowing the many sleepless nights had finally caught up with her.

Just as she sat up, the door opened and she immediately locked eyes with Zayne.

“I’m sorry to trouble you,” she said, “I just needed to rest at home. They didn’t need to check me into the hospital—”

Zayne stopped her from getting out of bed. He was holding a clipboard, his expression hardened. “We had to do some tests to rule out any major concerns…”

She sensed something was off about Zayne’s demeanor. “What is it? Do I have an illness or something?”

“Not quite,” he said, realizing there was no tactful way to deliver his news. He continued calmly, “You’re pregnant.”

She stared at him, not believing she had heard him correctly.

A tensed silence settled in the room, neither person able to tear their eyes off the other. Zayne waited patiently for her to register the news, seeing in her eyes the different emotions passing in quick successions. He was startled when she suddenly broke down crying, her hands settled over the flatness of her belly.

“Pregnant?” she asked again, looking up at him with tears down her cheeks.

Zayne breathed in sharply and nodded. He kept his expression neutral, hiding the fact that a mixture of feelings was warring inside him, ranging from anger to heartbreak. He had always thought he would have more time with her, a chance to cross that line of childhood friends, but it seemed all of the recent outings or late nights together were simply just two old friends catching up and nothing more.

He nodded quietly. “If you need help contacting the father—”

“It’s Caleb’s.”

The silence returned, but it was broken just as quickly as it had arrived.

“It’s Caleb’s,” she sobbed again, her arms suddenly wrapped around Zayne’s torso. He stood there rigid, unsure of what to do. There were questions swirling around in his head, but they didn’t seem to matter to him as much. All he could do—wanted to do—was comfort her.

He let his arms wrapped around her, his heart breaking again as she continued to cry.

“It’s Caleb’s…”

Zayne remained by her side. That won’t ever change, he had decided long ago. For as long as she would allow him, he would stay by her side.

He stayed with her, saving her from herself as she angrily tore herself apart, guilt-ridden that in her grief, she had allowed her baby—Caleb’s baby—to also suffer.

“You didn’t know,” he soothed her, his arms around her in comfort. “It’s still early. You hadn’t done anything wrong.”

He brushed her tears aside with his thumbs, his voice still as gentle as always. “You are allowed to grieve for as long as you need to,” he said, “I know he was important to you.”

He just hadn’t realized the extent of their relationship together. Zayne quelled his jealously before it could ever simmer. This was a deceased man, and also, his own friend. He didn’t want such ugly feelings to fester inside him like this. There were more important matters at hand now anyway.

Zayne stayed. She didn’t push him away, so he stayed.

He stayed and guided her through her first trimester. He made her ginger tea for when the morning sickness came. He advised her to rest as often as she needed since these first months were going to be rough on her body. He also made her meals often, finding the most nutritious recipes for an expectant woman.

One evening, over dinner, she asked, “Are you Doctor Zayne right now or…just Zayne?”

He looked surprised, not understanding her implication.

“It’s just…a doctor wouldn’t care about his patient this much, would he?”

“That is up for debate,” he answered, “many doctors do go above and beyond for their patients.”

“Then I’ll ask again: is this Doctor Zayne…or Zayne?”

He looked into her expectant eyes before his own drifted down to her growing middle. A small bump was forming, a reminder that she was carrying a new life inside her body. Another man’s baby.

Zayne met her gaze again. “Does it matter how I respond?”

“You don’t have to do this…”

“‘Do this?’”

“Take care of me like this,” she answered, that ever-familiar flicker of guilt returning in her eyes. “I can take care of myself. If not, Tara has also been helping me out, too, so you don’t need to—”

“If I say I am Zayne, will it change anything?”

She was silent, so he continued, his tone was soft, but his words were firm.

“If I say, I want to stay with you, will you let me?”

She looked up. “I don’t want you to have the wrong impression—”

“What impression would that be then?”

“That…I am using you.”

“I don’t believe you are. I know you aren’t,” he said, continuing, “But if I say I would let you use me, will that scare you?”

She drew in a sharp breath, feeling her heartbeat quickening. He crossed over to her side, kneeling down next to her.

“If I say, I want to stay by your side, then…will you let me?”

“Zayne…”

She slipped her hand into his, that flash of hesitancy in her eyes unmissed by him, but he was not upset by it. Not in the slightest. He wasn’t demanding anything from her, nor was he expecting anything in return.

He simply wanted to stay by her side.

That night, she slept for the first time in ages, curled into his protective embrace. The weight she had been carrying on her shoulders were lightened by his presence, his soothing words freeing her from her own shackles as she allowed him to break down her wall.

“You can sleep now, I’m here,” Zayne whispered to her as she slept. The deep troubled creases in her expression relaxed, as if in response to his words. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, his words earnest: “I will always be here.”

Gradually, over time, there were many changes happening. Her belly had grown bigger, rounding out distinctively that it suddenly made everything feel so real. She was having a baby. Caleb’s baby. The tumultuous emotions that followed would always send her down a dark path.

The baby was somehow a constant reminder of the man she had lost, but at the same time also a gift he had left for her, his promise staying true. He was still here. He would never leave her.

Just like Zayne had also promised to stay with her.

In the beginning, each passing day felt like Hell, a constant nightmare she wasn’t able to escape from. Time moved so agonizingly slow, it might as well have been frozen, trapping her in that perpetual state of grief and anger.

Then, so subtly, Zayne reached into her depths of despairs and pulled her out. He was patient, empathetic, and careful. He had never overstepped any boundary, never took advantage of her vulnerability, but he still loved her unconditionally.

Hesitantly, she began to allow herself to reciprocate, genuinely touched by all of his thoughtfulness and concerns. Some days, she might even admit that she adored him. She adored the way he interacted with the children in the pediatric ward, she adored the way he enjoyed eating sweets, she adored how he always put others above himself. It made her want to take care of him herself, wanting to return the love she was receiving. She also wanted him to feel as loved and cherished as he made her feel.

The first time she kissed him it took them both by surprise.

She was nearing six months before she finally felt the baby’s first movements. After weeks of carrying this growing anxiety inside her that something could be wrong with the baby or pregnancy, the moment she felt those first few gentle kicks had her laughing in joy for the first time in months.

Zayne had just finished building a crib for the nursery when she rushed into the room in her delicate condition, throwing herself into his embrace.

When she guided his hand to her belly, his look of surprise staying only briefly before a small smile replaced it. Without thinking, she leaned up and kissed him, and instead of feeling shocked, Zayne responded immediately, feeling joy swelled in his own chest.

He had been by her side through all of this. He had taken care of her when she was sick or tired. He had been the one to comfort her through her mood swings. He was there helping her buy maternity clothes or choosing the necessary items the baby would need. In times, he realized, he had also grown to care about the baby she carried—even if it was not his.

Now, he felt a new emotion stirring inside him. She wanted him to be the first to hear the news. She wanted him to feel the movements alongside her. She kissed him. He wanted to be bolder.

He cupped her face in his hands and guided her lips back to his, relishing in the way she responded, her wall coming down completely as she surrendered to her feelings for him.

It was almost like playing make-believe.

Their feelings for one another were genuine, but sometimes they would forget. At least until someone, naively, took off the rose-tinted glasses they wore.

Congratulations. You two must be so thrilled about the baby.

Oh, what a beautiful couple. Their baby will surely be beautiful as well.

Have you picked out a name yet?

They responded to such comments with polite smiles, but once they were alone, the masks fell off.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Why are you apologizing?” Zayne asked, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She didn’t do anything wrong, but she still felt like she needed to apologize to him. Zayne had never said anything, never showed her the slightest inkling that he might be affected by such words or speculations, but she felt like she knew Zayne just as well as he knew her.

She knew he never wanted her to see when he was hurting.

“They’re just words,” he said calmly, his hand reaching over to rub lazy circles around her belly. “I will not love him any less just because he’s not my biological child.”

Zayne meant every word.

The moment the baby was born, after over twenty-six hours of labor, she watched as Zayne cradled the newborn with such tender care. Anyone who would see him hold the baby boy would never suspect that he wasn’t the father.

There were so many bittersweet feelings that lingered, the grip they had on her firm and unyielding. Never once did she dare to relinquish the guilt she carried.

She felt guilty for letting another man into her life again, feeling like she was betraying Caleb, letting the memory of him be overridden. She also felt guilty to Zayne, feeling like he was picking up the broken pieces of her and mending her back again to some semblance of a person but never completely whole. She felt guilty to both men. One for losing her heart to another and the other for never having her full heart as his alone.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

She gasped when the hospital bed shifted with Zayne’s sudden weight. He sat on the edge, the baby tucked in his arms protectively. He reached out and brushed away some of her tears. She hadn’t realized that she had started crying. She was feeling so many things at once all stemming from different origins.

She was exhausted from the long grueling hours of labor. She was emotionally overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the last nine months. She knew her hormones were still out of control, heightening everything she felt to an extreme degree.

“I’m just tired,” she fibbed weakly. The exhaustion on her face was clear as day. Zayne could sense she was withholding something from him, but he knew when to not pressure her. In due time, he knew she would open herself up more to him.

For now, he accepted her benign lie.

The baby started to fuss, alerting the both of them. Zayne chuckled and gently passed the newborn over to his mother.

“He must want his mama now,” Zayne said lightheartedly. He was startled when she started to tremble, droplets of her tears falling suddenly. She was trying to hold her emotions back, but something in the way Zayne spoke seemed to have triggered her.

He gathered her into his embrace and he shushed her gently. “What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”

She shook her head and just cried against him. “I’m sorry… I’m just… I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

He sighed and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t force yourself,” he said softly. “You’ve been through a lot. You don’t need to be so harsh on yourself.”

It was tearing him apart inside to see her still so beaten down. He continued in the same soothing tone, “Just breathe.”

Slowly, she managed to compose herself. She stayed in his embrace, her eyes peering down at the sleeping baby in her arms, her breathing nearly stopping now that she fully looked at the newborn she carried.

“He looks like Caleb.”

“He does,” Zayne agreed, and he kissed the top of her head again, his hold on her just a bit tighter.

The baby looked like Caleb and as time passed, the little boy grew up behaving so similarly to the deceased man. She found both joy and heartbreak in this, feeling happy that Caleb continued to live on in this child, but also saddened that it was a reminder of who she had lost.

She supposed she would never let go of these feelings. It would be too heartless if she did.

“Daddy, apple!”

“Alright, alright,” Zayne said with a knowing smile as he carried in his arms the small toddler, the child’s bright demeanor and appearance reminiscent of little cherubs. He set the little boy on the counter as he retrieved an apple and washed it clean. He expertly peeled the skin before he cut the fruit up into small chunks.

“Say ‘ah’,” Zayne spoke as he guided the small chunk into the toddler’s eager mouth. He smiled as the boy clapped his hands together in pure delight at the sweet taste of the fresh fruit. “Is it good?”

The boy nodded excitedly. Once he swallowed, he pointed at his mouth again. “‘nother one, Daddy, pwease?”

Zayne chuckled and leaned down. “Can I have a kiss first?”

Immediately, the toddler pressed a wet kiss to Zayne’s cheek, giggling when Zayne suddenly tickled him. “Da-Daddy!”

Zayne laughed and hugged the child, kissing the top of his head before he composed himself again. “Alright, alright, Daddy won’t tickle you anymore. For now. Say ‘ah’.”

As he fed the toddler little bites, she walked in and stopped, her body leaning against the threshold to the kitchen with a fond smile.

Fatherhood looked good on Zayne. He had taken on the role so seamlessly, never once showing any resentment to the little boy that was not his. If anything, there was so much love and adoration in Zayne’s eyes and the way he cared for the child.

It dawned on her that Zayne had been in her son’s life from the beginning. He had cared for her throughout her pregnancy. He was the one who had spent many sleepless nights with a crying newborn so she could rest. He was there to nurse her son through his first fever.

Zayne was always there, always theirs.

So, when the little boy uttered his first word Dada, it shocked them both. When the child clung to Zayne, falling asleep in his safe embrace, they both realized this life they had come to build together was something beautiful.

They could make this work.

They could be a family of three.

It was going to be beautiful.

It had been several years since she had stepped foot back in Skyhaven, remembering old visits to see Caleb when he was studying here.

Caleb.

She sighed.

It had been a while since she had thought of him, or at the very least, in that way. There were so many things on her mind nowadays. The grief from his death would always stay with her, a throbbing pain that could never be dulled, but as time passed, she learned to live with this heartache. She had a child now—Caleb’s child—and the little boy deserved his mother’s whole attention.

She remade herself whole for her son’s sake, not wanting him to have an empty shell of a person for a mother. She also had Zayne by her side, wanting him to have someone who could love him the way he deserved. There were still so many people in the present needing her, she let herself slipped further away from the ghost of the past.

Around her neck, she still had Caleb’s necklace. It had come to be her comfort object, a charm of sorts to ground her when she was feeling lost in her head or needing some sort of reassurance.

Right now, she needed a lot of reassurances.

The current mission to infiltrate the Farspace Fleet was in jeopardy of being discovered. She had been discreet and blended in well for several weeks now, but one moment of carelessness had now secured her a place in an interrogation room where she was told the new colonel would question her himself.

Nothing, however, could prepare her when the door slid open, and a pair of old, familiar violet eyes stared her down coldly.

Ca-Caleb?

Her heart sped up, pounding against her chest as she stared in disbelief at the man before her.

“Is it really you? Ca—”

“Show some respect to the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel,” he said coldly, the authoritative tone had her frozen in her seat, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of this moment. The man before her was completely identical to her Caleb in both looks and voice, but the way he spoke and carried himself was not like her beloved.

Still, she wondered. Hoped, even.

She steadied her breathing before she questioned him hesitantly. “Sir, have we met before? You seem familiar…”

“You’re wrong.”

“…But you look exactly like someone I know!”

“Watch your mouth,” he said, nearly sneering. Then in a lower voice, he said, “There’s more than one pair of eyes observing you in this room.”

As this man was about to begin his interrogation, he noticed the necklace around her neck. He touched it, eyeing the pendant with an unreadable expression.

She spoke up, explaining, “…It belonged to someone from my childhood. He died in an explosion. Like the one in the Cascade District. I… I miss him.”

The colonel shifted his gaze to her, but his expression remained icy.

She continued, asking him, “Sir, can you tell me something? If that person hadn’t died, would he support me even now?”

He didn’t answer her directly, and instead redirected the conversation to the current interrogation. After placing a mood tracker on her, he began grilling her with a barrage of questions, his tone firm and unyielding.

Eventually, she managed to pass, the light in the interrogation room brightening and the colonel stepped forward from the shadow.

“You passed,” he said with a satisfied smile.

She felt irate. “You…”

“Surprised?” he asked, his tone much more lighthearted than it was a few minutes ago. He continued with that same teasing tone, “Sure, it’s been a while, but you already forgot about me?

She felt tears in her eyes, her chest tightening with pain. Her voice was shaky, in complete disbelief, as she questioned him hesitantly. “You… it’s you, right? Caleb.”

“Is there another me in the world?” he teased before his expression changed, looking worried. “Did I scare you?”

She immediately leapt to her feet, rushing to him. “It is you!” she cried out, her hand reaching up to touch his cheek, pausing at the last second as if she was afraid that if she tried to touch him, she would feel nothing, breaking whatever illusion she was seeing right now. “Caleb… I must be dreaming.”

He grabbed her hand before she could pull away, guiding it to his cheek as he smiled softly back to her. “It’s me…” he said, adding reassuringly, “It’s okay. I’m back.”

She started sobbing, falling into his arms, feeling his own hold on her tightening. It felt so warm and familiar, like home.

Like Caleb.

Suddenly, all of her heartaches and anguish disappeared.

He was alive. He was here, holding her again just like how he had always done. When he looked down, his gloved hand touched her chin, cradling it gently before he leaned forward, his lips pressing over hers in such a natural way as he had always done.

And she paused, remembering back home in Linkon, another man she had come to love was waiting for her, taking care of her child while she was away and fulfilling the role of father to her son, giving the boy a life he deserved.

She shouldn’t be doing this, but she couldn’t pull herself away. There were so many voices in her head competing for dominance to be heard. Some admonished her relentlessly, tearing her to shreds with cruel, heartless words while others encouraged her to stay, to linger and give in to the temptation of her desires and yearning.

She felt a trickle of tears on her cheek as she hesitantly kissed Caleb back, her heart still bleeding for him, still remembering that he was hers just like he had always been.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing the tears. He brushed them away, his smile soft. “It’s okay, pipsqueak, I know this is a lot to take in and I will explain everything to you.”

She stayed in his warm embrace, cheek pressed close to his chest, and she listened. His heart was beating in his chest. He was standing here, holding her, his words warm and comforting.

Everything was still so surreal, feeling like she had stepped into an alternate reality, her mind still unable to comprehend this moment in time.

If this was just a dream, she wished to stay asleep for just a while longer. For one selfish instance, she wanted to disappear from the world, returning to Caleb and the secret paradise only they would ever know.

But it would never be like before.

In the farthest depths of her heart and mind, she knew it would never be like before.

Without thinking, she blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

Caleb looked down at her confused. “Why are you apologizing?”

She looked embarrassed. Quickly, she fibbed, “We had a fight before. I…we never made up.”

It took a while before Caleb remembered, nodding in understanding. “That was a long time ago,” he said, “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

She said nothing as he pulled her back into his orbit, his hold firm and secured, but in her mind, she apologized again. Whatever was brewing in the future was going to affect three childhood friends, and the ominous unknown scared her, knowing no matter how things played out, someone was going to get hurt and none of them would come out unscathed.

I’m sorry, Zayne.

Like a forbidden fruit, she greedily coveted Caleb’s kisses again, tasting sin on her lips as she began to tread down the path to damnation, willfully blinding herself to the destruction that awaited in her future.

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