animequeen122

[animequeen122]

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? - G.S.

Synopsis. There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, Satoru’s blindfold gets used, overstimulation (male + female), lots of cum, aphrodisiac sex, multiple rounds, making Gojo Satoru cum in his pants, breaking the bed, mating press, pet names (my girl), swearing.

Word count. 3.0k

A/N. Can you tell it’s ovulation week. PART 2 HERE. Art by @_3aem on x.

Ah~ It’s the 21st century, they should really make these curses self-exorcizing. 

It’s been a long day of dealing with countless curses and five droning clan meetings (all of which he missed, oops). Now, Satoru loiters around your shared penthouse apartment - waiting for you to come back home from work.

Hmm, maybe he’ll quickly drop by and see what the first years are up to? He probably didn’t have a class right now. 

But first, Satoru grins, opening the refrigerator to grab at the secret stash of sweets all the way in the back - something sweet.

---

It was odd to step into a tense silence suffocating your home - usually used to being met with whines of “how dare you take so long!” and “you won’t believe what that emo kid did today.” as soon as you walked in through the door.

Was Satoru running late on a mission today?  

It wasn’t surprising, the man had to be everywhere - it’s not like he always has the time to teleport and welcome you home. Yet, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off as you made your way into the kitchen.

Cursing whoever invented the work week, the cold air of the refrigerator hits you as you open it to grab a drink, wondering when your fiancé will be home.

Wait.

Tired brain distinctly noting the lack of that familiar flash of hot pink, you double-take as you glare at the back of the refrigerator - as if willing it to materialize in front of you. Where was that?

“That” being the gag gift your friends had given you last Christmas to playful wolf whistles. Some large slab of “aphrodisiac chocolate” - probably normal chocolate - that you’d skeptically thrown in with your secret candy stash for a rainy day. 

Satoru had ransacked your goods again, you sigh. But if he was home…then where was he?

“Toru? Are you home?” you call out in confusion, only to be met with a deafening silence. 

Concern etched on your face, you set the drink down to look for Satoru, footsteps thumping against the hardwood floors at each tense step. 

Approaching the bedroom, a low, unmistakable moan filters through the heavy door. Satoru.

Heartbeat racing and worry coursing through you, you cautiously push the door open - only to be met with a sight that makes your heart stop.

There, sprawled across your bed in just his boxers, a delicate flush spread enticingly along his sculpted body, was your Satoru. 

Something about this scene felt more than a simple evening nap. The air was heady and thick with something. Maybe it was that familiar hot pink wrapper lying empty at the foot of the bed. Maybe it was the way Satoru’s usually vibrant eyes were half-lidded, curtained by his tousled hair. 

Or maybe it was his hand squeezing the large outline of his achingly hard cock through his boxers. Circling the dark spot around his leaking tip. Massaging his heavy balls. Teasing. 

“You’re home‘ he rasps out, voice strangled and snapping you out of your trance. 

“Wha- yes. Toru, what happened?” you sputter out, eyes locked on the way his cock twitched animalistically at the sound of your voice.

In the blink of an eye, Satoru’s gotten up from the bed, muscled arms caging you against the wall. His rock-hard erection presses into your front, precum smearing through his boxers against your work clothes.

“You’re home.” he repeats, sounding as strained as if he were about to snap any second. Losing his sanity with each breath that fans your hair.

You could feel the pulsing of your cunt as your eyes flit from the sheen of sweat decorating his body to the blindfold haphazardly hanging off his neck. Satoru finally raises his eyes to look at you.

Oh, he’s already lost his sanity.

Pupils blown, those blue eyes you love now a lustful black - a predatory glint in them that made a carnal part of your cunt twitch. His mouth spreads into a wolfish grin, teeth bared as if ready to eat you up. 

A shiver runs down your spine.

“Toru…you okay?”

“You’re home.” he breathes out, as if a prayer. 

“Satoru.”

The simple call of his name sealed your fate.

The buttons hit the ground before you realize what he’s doing. Ripping your shirt off, pulling off your bra, fisting your clothes in his hands as if it killed him to see you clothed. 

Too impatient - too starved - to remove your skirt, he pulls it to shreds off your hips.

“Woah- slow down there.” you squeal as he drops to Satoru knees, biting down on the thin fabric of your soaked panties, tugging with his teeth. You know he’ll buy you ten more to replace what he’s torn, but jeez where was the decorum?

“Can’t” he slurs, peeking up at you with dazed eyes. Was your Satoru even here with you?

“What?” 

“Can’t stop.” he murmurs lowly, voice sending vibrations to your twitching cunt. 

And before you know it, sharp teeth bite around your panties, ripping them to shreds. Looking up at you with hooded eyes, miles away, grinning devilishly around the soaked fabric in his mouth. 

Shit, what have you gotten yourself into.

Despite your thobbing pussy, you soothe “Now, Toru. Why don’t we just-”

“Shut up.” he mutters. And he does - words catching in your throat as Satoru dives nose-deep into your dripping cunt. Hot tongue urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst..

Nose rubbing your pulsing clit in rough circles, he breathes you in so sinfully, letting out a throaty groan as he does. He bullies his tongue past your dripping folds, stretching you, dipping in and out of your quivering entrance. Over and over. In and out.

You were losing your mind with each rough push of Satoru’s warm tongue. Dizzying pace forcing lewd whimpers out of your mouth that mix with the squelches of his mouth on your pussy. 

You buck your hips desperately into his face, and amidst his merciless abuse on your cunt, you barely notice the way he presses his body against yours. 

Shit, so this is why he’s so fucking feral - Satoru’s cock was painfully hard, swollen and throbbing against your leg. Fuck- you weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

He grind his hips into you, precum soaking your bare legs. With a low whimper at the back of his throat, Satoru’s tongue fucks you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting.

Maybe it’s the harsh abuse of his mouth on your swollen lips, nose catching on your clit just right. Or maybe it’s the feeling of your slick dripping down the corners of his mouth, onto your thighs and mixing with the precum of his aching erection. 

Before you can even register it, you’re cumming all over Satoru’s mouth, grip tight on his white locks and hips riding his pretty face.

Greedily lapping at your quivering cunt, he moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head at the sweet juices pooling around his tongue. 

In the back of your mind, you recognize the feeling of Satoru’s warm cum smearing against your leg. Did- Did Gojo Satoru just come in his underwear while eating you out?

Sinfully, he licks at the mixture of your juices dripping down your legs, eyes closed as if tasting a delicacy. He was going to be the death of you.

As soon as your high bates, Satoru stands to his full height. Towering above you with eyes that looked like he wanted to positively eat you alive.

“T-Toru…are you okay?” 

But your fiancé stays silent, throbbing erection still straining painfully against his wet boxers as he shoves you against the cold wall. Rough hands on your hips, presenting your dripping cunt to him and arching you to his will.

A large hand smacks the wall beside your head, plaster crumbling under his strength. Shit, if he keeps going at this pace then nothing in the house will survive Satoru - including you. 

You feel the cum-soaked fabric of his boxers grinding against your ass, his hands pulling and groping every bit of skin he can reach.

“Toru, take it off.” you whine out, words dripping in lust.

You don’t need to tell Satoru twice. With grace that he wouldn’t give your clothes, his boxers are on the ground, painfully hard cock hitting his abs. 

You can feel the slick dripping down your legs as you look behind your shoulder to see one hand wrapped tightly around his large cock. Pulling in slow, languid motions up to the furiously flushed tip. His heavy balls twitch as he thumbs the prominent vein along the side.

“I want-”

You can’t even finish your sentence before Satoru’s bullying his massive cock into your snug cunt. Plush walls desperately trying to adjust to his size as he sheaths himself in your hot core. 

You moan at the delicious stretch of your pussy. It’s not like you haven’t done this before - yet, where Satoru was usually suave in sex, right now it was replaced by pure, feral need. With his tip kissing your cervix as he pushed animalistically into your cunt - you didn’t know if you’d make it out alive. 

“Hah- Toru it’s too big. Ah! I can’t-.”

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed. 

Satoru presses into you inch by fucking inch, groaning at the tight ring of muscles trying to both push him out and suck him in desperately. It was so animalistic.

It seems Satoru’s body moves before his mind, hips fucking into your dripping pussy recklessly. Harsh thrusts, not even pulling all the way out to ram into you as he usually does - as if he can’t bear to part with your wet core. His balls sting your cunt as they smack against you at his unforgiving pace, strings of slick and cum connecting him to you.

“Ah- So good f’me, my girl. Always- so good.” he gasps out at the heavenly feeling of your dripping cunt sucking him back in at each thrust. “Hngh! Mmm more. I need more. Need it so bad.”

Hands arching your back into him now grope the expanse of your skin, before wrapping around your body to lift you off the floor. 

“Ah! Toru, what- hngh-” you choke on your words at the new angle. 

Satoru’s body bows into you, cock still slamming inside you at a feral pace midair. Not even a hair’s breadth between your bodies. 

With one hand he forces you to look up at him, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss. Pretty mouth sucking your tongue as he did with your cunt.

If you were in a better state of mind, you’d notice the slight glow tinging his lustful eyes. The electricity thrumming through his fingers. Yet you already knew - Satoru was absolutely losing it.

Your feet dangle off the ground as he holds you securely, length reaching impossibly deeper inside you. Prominent vein grazing that one spot over and over.

“Hngh- Oh my god, Toru. S’too much!” you pull away to whine. 

“Open your mouth.” he murmurs raspily. As if body on auto-pilot, your mouth opens, tongue lolling out for what he was about to give.

Satoru’s stream of spit is warm on your tongue, making you clench around his merciless cock. He lets out a drawn-out groan, eyes boring down at you, holding a glint of the same insanity he has when he exorcizes curses, “My nasty girl. Can’t get enough of you.”

You moan at his words, hands reaching behind you to grab on the blindfold dangling on his neck. “Toru more-” you gasp out, your tight grip causing him to bow his head with a groan, cock twitching ferally. 

“Fuck! More? You fucking want more?” he groans out, voice wrecked with pleasure. 

You let out a yelp as his teeth dig into your neck - hard enough that you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up. Yet, your grip on his blindfold never waves, pulling him closer as he fucks roughly into your snug cunt. 

Ass burning at the friction of his pelvis. Pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor. Unforgiving. Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. “Ah! Toru s’good.” 

You both cum with strangled gasps. A low keen at the back of Satoru’s throat, and he’s pumping hot ropes of cum into your awaiting pussy. Tears stinging your eyes at your sensitivity, all you know is a wave of pleasure as you ride out your climax on the ramming of his hips and the how full you are of his seed.

His hand still draws hurried, desperate circles on your clit. You squeal at the overstimulation, tears clinging to yours lashes. “Toru- hngh!” you can barely get out the words, his hips slamming into yours mercilessly as Satoru milks his cock desperately on your quivering pussy. 

“Shut up. You said you wanted more. You’re gonna get more, my little slut.” he mutters carnally.

Ah, you can’t do this. You were going to fucking pass out.

“One- more.” he moans.

Your thighs clench around him, pushing your plush walls deeper as he lets out raspy whimpers with each thrust. “Hah- hngh.” 

“Shit- Toru I’m-” Your climax hits you with a jolt, body twitching in pain and pleasure from the oversensitivity as your cunt flutters around his cock - not even being able to tell when Satoru’s orgasm ends and when yours starts. 

You feel a tear hit your shoulder, overstimulation too much for his poor cock as his seed coats your walls once more. It drips out of you, forming a pool on the floor as he pulls out - for only a second before you’re thrown on the bed. 

Orgasm-hazed brain barely having time to register what is happening before Satoru stalks towards you from the foot of the bed. Unhurriedly approaching you as you scoot towards the headboard.

Your pussy jumps exhaustedly at the sight of him - eyes darkened and narrowed at you like a predator that has spotted his prey. A devilish smirk stretches across his swollen lips, glossed prettily with spit and slick. 

Toru, I-I don’-” you words slur out. 

“One- one more, my girl. Please.” Satoru whimpers, throat shot from what transpired just before. His cock twitches, glistening with cum and slick, dripping onto the fresh bedsheets. 

As he looms closer, you wonder how the fuck Satoru was still holding up - was this all because of the chocolate? You have half the mind to wonder whether he was using reversed cursed technique to keep you both alive.

You mewl deliriously at the feeling of your legs being thrown on his shoulders. Eyes blown and face flushed your favorite shade of pink, he licks a long stripe up your ankles, voice cracking as he moans sinfully. 

Satoru’s flushed tip teases your entrance, dragging along your swollen folds. Fuck. Shit. Maybe you wouldn’t even mind dying if it was with his cock rammed in your snug cunt.

Barely even lucid, he thrusts harshly into you - your tight entrance readily sucking up his flushed tip. You both hiss at the sensitivity. Surely, one of you was going to pass out. 

Hand moving to grasp the blindfold around his neck, you pull him to you. Your hamstrings burn in protest as Satoru bends down to attach his lips with yours, moving down until you were folded in half. 

Tongue tangling with yours, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, fiery with an intensity that made you unsure if either of you would make it out of this alive. 

Heartbeat roaring in your ears, you don’t notice the crack! of the bed and neither does Satoru. Too caught up in desperately reaching whatever number orgasm it was this night. 

Moans incoherent, your body convulses, nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back as the bed creaks in protest. A strangled groan leaves his mouth, cock throbbing inside you - or maybe that was your quivering cunt. At this point you really didn’t know anymore. 

“Shit- ah! Fuck. I’m- M’cumming. M’cumming. Hngh- cumming!” he whines out, voice ragged and breathing unstable. Delicate tears streak down his face, dripping onto your quivering body below him. Salty.

You can only let out exhausted whines, too fucked out to form any proper sentences.

Hot seed gushing inside you again, it overflows out of you, cunt dripping and too full to take anymore. Yet, Satoru still fucks into you until he sees stars and his poor cock is cumming dry. You can barely even feel your climax, distant tingles and the only thing on your mind being Satoru Satoru Satoru. 

The air leaves your lungs as he collapses on top of you. Skin flushed and sticking to yours. Body twitching as his poor cock neverendingly shoots blanks inside of you. Which number was this even?

That’s when you black out.

Floating in and out of dreams of blue, blue skies and mini Satorus running around, you wake up with a start. Well, as much of a start as you could with your entire body aching as if you got run over by a truck - and then an entire zoo after.

Bleary eyes taking in your surroundings, you distinctly realize that you’re spread out on the living room couch. 

What happened.

“Hey, you okay?” a hoarse voice sounds from beside you. You could barely recognize it as your fiancé’s, words jagged from…whatever it was before.

“You…are you okay?” you rasp out, raising a brow exhaustedly. Satoru chuckles sheepishly, tenderly smoothing over the blanket placed on top of you. What a change from before - are you sure this is the same guy?

“Well…the wall is crumbling, we broke the bed, and I’m pretty sure my dick won’t work again for the next couple years.” he gets out in one breath. At your silence, he continues “And I think my favorite blindfold is out of commission.”

“...wow.”

“Wow.” 

“You lecher, you ate from my secret stash, didn’t you?”

“...”

A few days later, opening the refrigerator, you’re met with a wall of hot pink. A sticky note on top reading in Satoru’s hasty scrawl, “This time you take one too :D”

A/N. Wrote this while watching The Garfield Show.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[animequeen122]

Distractions

Zoro x F!reader

CW: MDNI, NSFW, unprotected sex, p in v, use of petnames (baby, pretty, all porn no plot

A/N: excuse me while I sit in my corner like a rabid animal because I need this to happen, like yesterday. Barely proofread 😅. I hope you enjoy!!!

It had been a while since you and Zoro had a date night. They're always a little difficult to come by. Between the crew’s adventures and just a life on the sea, it wasn't easy to get some real alone time with your swordsman. So a couple weeks prior, you coordinated with Nami and Sanji for a restock of supplies and to commandeer the kitchen. You wanted to cook a meal for your date and enjoy it with Zoro. Before you joined the Straw Hats, you cooked all the time and desperately missed it. Sanji would indulge you, on occasion, but you'd have to fight him to help in the kitchen with his constant insistence that a lady not having to lift a finger in his kitchen.

Tonight, you wanted to surprise him. Making his favorite: rice, grilled sea beast, seaweed salad, and a fresh bottle of his favorite sake. You had the rice cooked, seaweed salad ready to go, all that was left was the sea beast. You pulled it from your marinade and skewered it. Just as you set them on the range to grill, Zoro walked in, totally unaware. He was simply looking for some sake, he stopped immediately, watching you as you stood in the kitchen, humming to yourself. His eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment and softened as the corner of his lip was pulled into a lazy grin. He took in your relaxed form as you moved your way around the kitchen. Your hair up in a messy bun, ripped jean shorts, wearing one of his shirts, and suddenly he feels his arousal. He loves it when you wear his shirts. He quietly closes the distance between you until his hard chest is almost flush with your back, he leans forward and with his hot breath just on the shell of your ear he whispers, “Hmmmm, whatcha cookin’ good lookin’?”

You jump and nearly scream at the sudden intrusion, “S-shit!! Oh my god, Zoro! Don't do that! You scared the shit out of me!” white knuckles grabbing the counter and your hand flying to your chest, trying to contain your quickly beating heart. He laughs, throwing his head back and you respond in kind, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Whatcha got going on in here?” he questions as he peers over your shoulder. “I was making us dinner. It's about time for a date night! I'm making your favorite,” you respond excitedly. “ Hmmm, are you now?” he questions as he lifts you onto the counter, slotting himself between your legs. “How could you be doing that, when my favorite is right here?” his tone gravely and thick with desire. You put your arms over his shoulders, wrapping them to run your fingers through his hair as his breath hitches. He pulls your body flush against his chest and abdomen, one hand holding your upper body firmly against him and the other grabbing the small of your back. He leans in to kiss you, your eyes immediately fluttering shut as he has you enveloped in a tight embrace. Your lips smacking and you part your lips, tongues meeting in a kiss that is growing more heated by the second. You moan at the feeling of desire pooling in your stomach and Zoro responds with a groan as he kisses you more urgently, his hands moving along your back and down to grab your thighs. It's a good thing I have the stove on low you think to yourself but your thoughts are quickly erased when Zoro shifts you forward and you feel his hard bulge press into your clothed core- quickly overheating. His hands roam your body, exploring from grabbing a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck to rubbing circles along your back, down to your hips and landing on your breasts. He firmly kneads them, sending jolts of desire through your body as you arch your back, leaning into his hands. “Zo’...the f-food- it'll ruin,” you whisper breathlessly into his ear as he bites and kisses the column of your neck. “Mmmm, let it,” he growls. He leans over and turns off the range without breaking his lips from your body as you hold his head at your neck, gripping his hair tightly. 

His hand returns to your hip and with rushed fervor to bury himself within you, he unbuttons your shorts and pulls them down with your underwear to your ankles. You wiggle your feet until they fall off, discarded on the floor beneath you, and he quickly removes his garments. He gently presses your shoulders back, lying you on the counter, his grip on your hip tightening. You reach down to take his throbbing length into your hand, barely able to hold onto the tip as your thumb rubs his precum, swirling it as he groans. He presses your shirt up, exposing your breasts to the heated kitchen air as he gropes one. Pebbling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your back to arch off the countertop. He leans forward and takes the other in his mouth and his shift in position gives you a better grip on his hard cock. He groans as you twist your hand, fisting what you could as he swirls his tongue around your areola and bites down bringing a breathless gasp from your lips. “Please, Zo’...I n-need you-u,” you stutter, your grip on him faltering. “You have me, sweet girl,” and suddenly he plunges into you. “S-shit - hmmpf- you're so wet…just for me?” You're so lost in the stretch of him, you don't even have a chance to respond as he begins to thrust into you. Pulling back to his tip and slamming into you in harsh thrusts. If he weren't holding your hips, surely pushing you further up the counter. “Ah! Fuck yes, baby,” you whine, “A-a-all for you.”

He picks up his pace, fucking up into you, with each pass of his length hitting your hot spot. Your mind is consumed by him as the room fills with the sounds of your pants. Your moans like music to his ears spurring him to draw more cries from your throat as he watches how eagerly your body takes him. The sounds of his thighs snapping into you further adds to the coil in your abdomen that he works to unravel. He pulls your legs up on his shoulders and his pace falters. He slows again, edging himself so he can stay buried in your tight heat, wishing he could have you like this forever. “Mmmm- fuuuhck- right there,” you cry out as he drags his inches along your clenching walls. “Take it, pretty, take-all-of-it,” his voice deep and thick with lust, each word pronounced with a sharp thrust into you. With his last snap, you finally unravel. Crashing into your orgasm as it washes over you in waves. Zoro hisses as you clench and flutter around him. He leans forward kissing you and eating your cries as he tumbles over the edge with you, “Fuck you're perfect, fucking take it all,” he moans into your mouth as he increases his pace, fucking into you quickly to chase his own high as he fills you. You feel him pulsing as your fluttering walls slow, taking him for all he's got. 

You're both panting, sweaty messes when you finally come to. His forehead pressed to yours as he presses featherlight kisses on your soft lips. You bring your hands to hold his face as he's rubbing softly circles on your hips with his thumbs. Suddenly, you're all too aware of the compromising position you're in, as your overheated body feels the cold countertop beneath you. You unwrap your legs from Zoro 's waist as he pulls his softening length from you. He kisses you down your neck to your chest and down your stomach, biting gently as you giggle and look over at the dinner you never finished making. Completely distracted but you didn't even care.

Tags: @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[animequeen122]

Once in a Blue Moon

or, kinktober day 31 - gangbang

tobio kageyama, shouyou hintata, kei tsukshima, ryuunosuke tanaka, daichi sawamura, asahi azumane x fem!reader

18+ warnings: college AU, multiple partners, double penetration, oral, fingering, anal, toe sucking, exhibitionism, voyeurism, cum stuff, filth just pure filth, aftercare wc: 7k

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Keep reading

[animequeen122]

TSUKISHIMA IS THE TYPE OF BOYFRIEND TO . . .

tsukishima x tall-ish reader who wears lipstick

much to everyone's surprise tsukishima is a soft lover. after all what is love if not soft?

outside a restaurant and mid conversation with old friends (the karasuno group together for a reunion that only happens once in a while), without so much as a break in his dialogue, tsukishima sheds his scarf and wraps it firmly around your neck. he's still speaking, but there's a small frown growing on his face as he makes sure the fabric is secure. it's cold out. why aren't you dressed warmer? he doesn't pay attention to the looks of surprise on his friends face (or perhaps he just doesn't notice it). he's in love. why wouldn't he care for his lover?

before a game with the sendai frogs, tsukishima leans forward to get a kiss from you. it's routine. his good luck charm, he insists. and if you're wearing lipstick that stains a little bit, tinting his own just the slightest shade darker of pink, he doesn't say anything. he thinks it's funny, especially when you try to wipe it off him after only for him to wave you away. you'll wipe away all the good luck, he says.

tired after a long day at the museum (who knew working full time would be so tiring?), tsukishima is relieved when he sees you waiting outside for him. he leans into your embrace and rests his head on your shoulder with a soft sigh, feeling the ache in his neck release when you draw circles on his back. grateful, he whispers. i'm so lucky to have you. and you smile. he doesn't see it, but he can feel it with the way your heartbeat picks up.

anxiously awaiting your arrival, tsukishima glances down at his watch. anniversaries were always difficult to plan, but he enjoyed it. picking out flowers and making reservations, he liked having an excuse to see you dress up. only when you came, his heart stuttered and he felt his ears grow pink. suddenly the night's plans felt trivial and words weren't enough to communicate the feelings of his heart, so he settled on i love you. to the moon and back, i love you.

no real ending (or plot) just mushy love sick tsukishima

[animequeen122]

Don't mind me, just drawing some Zoros

[animequeen122]

Bartering - [Leorio Paladiknight X Reader]

You tried not to show how excited you were that you were about to see your closest friends again at the auction in Yorknew City, but you did an extremely poor job at concealing such a thing. You were practically bouncing in place as you waved over the crowd of people at Gon, Killua, and Leorio, standing on a bench to make sure you were seen by them. The two young ones noticed you immediately and dashed towards you, Leorio following behind at a slightly slower pace. The smile on his face though was giving away how joyous he was, an impossible thing to hide just like your excitement.

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[animequeen122]

craving control

— neither of you could resist what was always meant to happen.

alpha!bucky x omega!reader (9.2kw)

TW: 18+ MDNI; nsfw, dubcon a/b/o dynamics, possessive behavior, biting/marking, power dynamics, including praise kink, size kink, rough intimacy, physical restraint, sexual tension, emotional dependency, desperation, and themes "feral, uncontrollable need.", elements of mating/claiming, explores intense feelings of vulnerability and submission.

a/n: honestly,, i have no words -- weeks in the making and im not satisfied w how this turned out. like when you stare at something for too long. and it starts to look weird

———

On the day of Bucky’s arrival, it was safe to say the only one truly excited was Steve. The air in the compound felt charged, heavy with anticipation and unspoken tension.  

Tony walked up beside you and Nat by the massive window, the sharp scent of machine oil mingling with his expensive cologne as he wiped stubborn grease from his hands. Years of working together had made their commanding presence familiar and comfortable, like the steady hum of lab equipment around you.  

The window shook as debris kicked up from the descending helicopter, which was landing in the middle of the field. Tony inhaled deeply, his dark eyes meeting yours and Nat’s with a characteristic assessing look that instinctively made others straighten their spines. Nat smirked and raised an eyebrow, prompting a small smile from you, though you couldn't fully shake the flutter of nerves in your stomach.  

The helicopter door slid open in slow motion as Steve emerged, his broad shoulders and confident stride capturing every gaze in the vicinity. He turned and, stepping out behind him, a dark figure followed—a stark contrast, night to Steve's day. The moment Bucky appeared, the air seemed to shift—a raw, untamed energy that made your breath catch and your pulse quicken. Even from a distance, there was something different, something dangerous about him, that made your skin prickle with awareness, and your fingers curl tightly around the tablet in your hands.  

"Disperse, disperse," Tony muttered, his natural authority causing everyone to instinctively move as he turned away. The others followed suit, including an omega technician who stumbled in their haste to appear busy at their station.  

You turned back to your workstation, pressing your palms to the cool steel table to ground yourself. You could feel Steve and his companion approaching—Steve’s familiar warmth contrasting sharply with the newcomer’s intensity.  

The familiar scents of solder and circuitry should have been calming, but they couldn't quite mask the oncoming storm of Steve’s sunlit warmth mixed with something darker and wilder—like pine needles and leather and crisp winter air.  

When the main doors opened, the room was flooded with alpha energy, subtle yet impossible to ignore, like fog rolling in at dawn. "Guys, this is Buck," Steve said, the sound of his hand landing on leather echoing in the sudden quiet.  

"Bucky," came the correction—a voice like gravel over silk, sending a shiver down your spine as you gripped your soldering iron tighter, the metal warm against your suddenly trembling fingers. It wasn’t their presence that unsettled you; it was the way your instincts responded before you could think.  

Nat’s silent approach gave her the air of a predator as she circled closer. "Barnes," she acknowledged, her voice cold and steely. The space between them crackled with unspoken assessment, neither yielding nor challenging.  

"Good to see you again, Robocop," Tony called out, his voice cutting through the tension. His hologram's blue glow cast shadows over his face as he peered over his glasses. "Make yourself comfortable, but not too comfortable." His words, casual yet sharp as ozone before a storm, hung in the air.  

“The rest of you, back to work—we have a deadline,” Tony added with a wave of his pen, and like magic, the lab resumed its rhythm, though the atmosphere had fundamentally shifted.  

You bent over your work, hyper-focused on the tiny components scattered across your station, but every nerve seemed attuned to Bucky’s presence. The familiar lab scents—hot metal, coffee, and sharp electronics—were muted beneath this new awareness.  

"Y/n~" Steve’s warm, knowing voice rolled through the space, and your fingers stilled on the circuit board, your heart stuttering. The approaching footsteps seemed to echo with your pulse, each step tightening the coil in your shoulders. That scent—leather and pine now mixed with something metallic and sharp—grew stronger, drying your mouth.  

You managed a confident smile and turned, only for Steve to pull you into an embrace, lifting you slightly off your feet. His familiar scent—soap and sunshine—wrapped around you like a blanket, momentarily drowning everything else.  

"Missed ya, kiddo," he murmured, affection coloring his tone. Warmth bloomed in your chest, and you relaxed into his comforting presence.  

"Missed you too, Cap," you managed with a breathless laugh as he set you down. Movement caught your eye—Bucky shifting behind Steve—and that new awareness crashed back like a wave. You met his gaze for a split second before he looked away, but that brief connection felt electric. His storm-gray eyes held something untamed that made your knees weak.  

“Buck, this is Y/n,” Steve introduced. “Y/n, Buck.” The contrast between them was dizzying—Steve's golden warmth beside Bucky's winter-sharp presence. Suddenly, your workspace felt too small, the air heavy with unspoken things.  

"Bucky," he repeated, his voice rougher up close, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. He stepped closer, hands at his sides, yet his presence seemed to fill the entire space around you. The fluorescent lights reflected off the plates of his metal arm, casting shifting shadows. Your throat felt dry, and you resisted the urge to fidget with your tools.  

Steve’s voice cut through the thick tension, either unaware of it or ignoring it. "Listen, I tried the magnets again," he said, the sound of leather hitting steel making you jump slightly as he tossed his gloves onto your workstation. His worn leather scent mingled with Bucky’s, making focus difficult.  

You raised an eyebrow, grateful for the distraction. "And...?"  

"And I hate it." He rolled his shoulder, trying to ease the tension. "It's just not the same."  

You glanced between the gloves and Steve's sheepish expression, ignoring how Bucky’s gaze seemed to track your every movement. Even without looking directly at him, you felt his attention like static electricity, raising goosebumps along your arms.  

"Think you could just yank 'em out for me?" Steve asked with that irresistible smile, though your attention kept drifting to Bucky, who stood silent and watchful.  

You scoffed and shook your head, stepping around the counter to switch on the table light. Sitting on the stool across from Steve, you shot him a look.  

“Fine, fine,” you said, picking up the gloves. “Guess you still have a chance to dread the day I say no.”  

Steve grinned. “I don’t even wanna think about it.” He gestured subtly towards Bucky. “Figured you could handle this too. Bucky’s got some gear that might need adjustments.” It wasn’t a command, just Steve’s assumption that Bucky would be sticking close.  

“Sounds good. I’ll find some time this week to schedule you in, so we can see what I’m working with,” you said, motioning to his arm.  

“Okay,” Bucky replied, his voice low with a hint of warmth.  

---

That was two weeks ago. Since then, you’d been buried in projects with Tony and Banner, testing prototypes and troubleshooting quirks in Stark’s tech.  

Missions came and went, but you mostly stayed at the compound—tuning weapons, running diagnostics, and keeping Stark's experiments from exploding (again). The lab had become your sanctuary, where complex problems could be solved with enough focus. Yet lately, your normally steady hands trembled at unexpected moments, your concentration slipping at the sound of familiar footsteps in the corridor.  

There wasn’t much time for that one-on-one work with Bucky you’d promised, though you occasionally glimpsed him around the compound. Still finding his footing here, he was a shadow at Steve’s side, quiet and watchful. Tony would drag him into the lab occasionally to discuss modifications—if he wanted any.  

You tried not to notice how his eyes found you whenever he was in the lab, lingering until you accidentally met his gaze. At first, he’d look away, jaw tightening as he focused on whatever Tony was explaining. But minutes later, you’d feel it again—his attention like a compass pointing north.  

In brief hallway encounters, your greetings came out softer than intended, his response a quiet rumble that stayed with you long after he walked away. One time, both of you reached for the lab door handle simultaneously. His fingers brushed yours, sending electricity up your arm. He pulled back, muttering an apology before disappearing around the corner, abandoning whatever awaited him in the lab.  

It was ridiculous how such small moments left you distracted for hours.  

Then one morning, Tony burst into the lab, with Steve following closely behind, practically dragging a reluctant Bucky.  

“Hey, kid,” Tony called out, startling you. You lifted the magnifying goggles off your face, welcoming the cool air. Banner, hunched across the table with identical goggles, glanced up briefly.  

“Please tell me we have Barnes’ baseline readings from when he got here,” Tony said, his tone implying a slight scolding. You looked at Banner, embarrassed. When you shook your head, Tony groaned dramatically.  

“Seriously? Three weeks and—“ He took a deep breath, hands on his hips as he surveyed the cluttered lab, evidence of recent activity. “Okay, that’s on me. Fixed. Now.” He practically pushed Bucky onto the stool beside your workstation.  

“Do your thing. Science, data, all that—" Tony trailed off, looking at Banner, who took the cue and clumsily exited, engaging Tony in a transparently forced conversation about a new gadget. Steve left shortly after, flashing an encouraging smile that made your cheeks burn.

The moment they left, the lab felt impossibly smaller. Bucky shifted slightly behind you, and though he was quieter than quiet, his presence seemed to fill every inch of space around you. He kept a respectful distance, but it didn’t matter—you could feel him, each breath and subtle movement stirring the air, making your skin prickle with awareness.

Your hands trembled slightly as you pulled up the diagnostic programs. "I'll need to..." you began, voice softer than you intended, "run some basic tests first. It might take a while." Turning toward him, you found his storm-grey eyes already fixed on you, dark and intent.

“Okay,” he replied, his gaze heavy and unrelenting, as though he was trying to read the thoughts you couldn’t quite form. Your throat tightened under the weight of his stare, and your hands instinctively curled into fists to ground yourself.

“I’ll need you to…” You gestured vaguely, your voice catching. “You’re gonna have to take off your sh-shirt. Just... so I can get a better look.” Your voice faltered, and heat bloomed across your cheeks.

For a beat, Bucky didn’t move. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached behind his neck, tugging the navy henley over his head. The fabric slid away, revealing his broad shoulders and sculpted chest, veiled by the thin fabric of his white tank. The subtle shift of his muscles as he moved sent a quiet jolt through your system, making your breath catch.

He tossed the henley carelessly over his shoulder, and you tried—desperately—to stay focused.

“Extend your arm for me,” you murmured, the words coming out softer than intended. He complied with that same quiet grace, his frame stiffening as you gently adjusted his arm.

Without thinking, you stepped between his legs, close enough that your hips grazed his thighs. The heat of his body radiated toward you, and the scent of pine, winter air, and leather curled around you, heavy and dizzying.

Bucky shifted again—a slow, unconscious movement as he spread his legs a little wider, as if making room for you without realizing it. The gesture was likely nothing, but to you, it felt far too intimate, and it took all your willpower not to react to the heat pooling in your belly.

You focused on the smooth metal of his arm, running your fingers along the seams and joints, marveling at the precision of its construction. His hand found your waist. The touch was light at first, perhaps just to steady himself, but his palm lingered, broad and warm over your lab coat.

The weight of his hand sent a shiver up your spine, your pulse fluttering beneath your skin. His thumb brushed the hem of your coat where the white fabric met your wine-colored shirt, as if testing its texture. Your breath caught involuntarily.

Slowly, your gaze traveled from his fingertips up the seams of his arm to his face. When you looked up, his eyes were already on you—dark, intense, unreadable, but consuming. His gaze dropped briefly to the curve of your collarbones peeking through your shirt before flicking back to meet your eyes, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.

The room shrank around you, the tension pulling taut—an invisible thread tugging you closer. Neither of you spoke; neither of you moved.

The air between you stretched, heavy and charged, the weight of his hand on your waist making it impossible to focus on anything but him. His thumb grazed the edge of your shirt again—soft, deliberate—and you swore the world slowed down, teetering on the edge of something inevitable.

The comm system beeped, loud and sudden, shattering the moment. Both of you jerked slightly, like surfacing from deep water.

"Y/N?" Tony’s voice crackled through the speaker. "Banner needs you in the main lab—now."

Bucky’s hand slipped from your waist, his jaw clenching as though grounding himself. You took a step back, heart pounding, the absence of his touch making the space between you feel colder and emptier than it should.

Clearing your throat, you looked anywhere but at him. “I–uh, I should go.”

He nodded once, slow and unreadable, as you turned quickly, your hand dragging hesitantly down his arm, slipping out of the room before the tension could pull you back in.

You slipped out of the room, heart still racing, Bucky’s presence clinging to you like static electricity. Even as you tossed and turned in bed later that night, the moment lingered—his hand on your waist, his scent in your lungs, and the weight of his gaze heavy on your mind.

That evening clung to you like a live wire beneath your skin, but the next few days brought subtle shifts in the compound's atmosphere. Where Bucky once moved like a shadow, now he inhabited spaces differently. During morning briefings, you noticed him leaning against workbenches instead of standing guard by the wall, his gaze still watchful but carrying something new—curiosity, maybe.

Since that evening in the lab, you buried yourself in projects with Tony and Banner, testing new prototypes and troubleshooting quirks in Stark's tech. Small out-of-town missions came and went, but you remained rooted at the compound—tuning weapons, running diagnostics, and preventing Stark's experiments from turning into full-blown disasters (again). The lab had become your sanctuary, where complex problems could be solved with enough focus. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, focus had become a luxury you couldn't afford. Your usually steady hands betrayed you, trembling at the worst moments, especially whenever familiar footsteps echoed down the corridor.

If Bucky did come into the lab, there weren’t many opportunities for one-on-one work, though you’d catch fleeting glimpses of him. He still seemed to be finding his footing, a shadow at Steve’s side—quiet and observant, as if measuring every person and place before stepping too close. Occasionally, Tony would bring him into the lab to discuss possible modifications, though Bucky seemed reluctant, deflecting with grunts and unreadable glances.

But it was impossible to ignore how his eyes always sought you out. Whenever he entered the room, your senses sharpened, drawn to him without permission. His gaze lingered a second too long—enough to make your stomach flip, your pulse flutter beneath your skin. But whenever you met his eyes, he’d glance away, his jaw tightening as if wrestling with something unspoken. Yet, moments later, you’d feel the pull again—his attention returning like a compass that couldn’t help but point north.

This awareness began to happen outside the lab too, in brief, inconsequential encounters that left you unraveled. Once, passing each other in the hallway, your soft greeting was met by his low, rumbling reply, curling around your senses long after he’d disappeared. Another time, reaching for the same door handle, his fingers brushed yours, the shock of contact sending electricity racing up your arm. He pulled back as though burned, muttering an apology before vanishing without explanation. You stood there, stunned, wondering how such a fleeting touch could leave you restless for hours.

Each day made it harder to maintain composure. It was as if your body had developed a traitorous awareness of him—heart stuttering beneath your ribs, skin flushing at the slightest thought of him, senses sharpening to track his movements before your mind even registered he was near. No matter how hard you tried to lose yourself in work, even Tony’s endless stream of projects couldn’t silence the way your pulse leapt whenever Bucky’s footsteps echoed down the corridor.

These changes appeared in fragments—a barely-there smile when Tony's prototype backfired, sparks shooting across the lab; the way his shoulders lost their rigid set when Steve drew out his dry humor during mission prep. Each small victory revealed another layer beneath the soldier’s facade.

Your paths began crossing more often. Sometimes, he’d appear in the kitchen during your late-night tea runs, nursing coffee while reading news on a tablet. His silent nods evolved into a new half-smile that never failed to make your heart race. His scent—pine and leather—began to carry warmer notes, softening from sharp winter to something more approachable.

Then, when Sam suggested movie night, every instinct screamed at you to decline. The thought of being in an enclosed space with Bucky—away from the clinical safety of the lab, surrounded by comfortable, dim intimacy—made your stomach flutter with anxious energy. But before you could find an excuse, Nat flashed you a knowing smile, firmly pulling you from your workstation. You barely had time to protest.

Now, nestled between Nat and Sam on the couch, you tried to focus on the movie, but your attention kept drifting across the room to him. Bucky sat in an armchair like he owned the space, his relaxed body only making him look more dangerous. His legs were spread wide, one arm draped over the back, the other resting on his thigh—a casual pose that somehow felt deliberate.

You told yourself to stay present, to engage with Nat and Sam’s easy banter, but Bucky’s presence made it impossible. His scent—faint but unmistakable—hovered at the edge of your awareness, a mix of pine, leather, and something deeper that spoke to a part of you beyond reason.

Then it happened. During a lull in the movie, when everything fell quiet, you felt it—his gaze.

A pulse of heat spread through your chest, as if an invisible thread had tugged you toward him. You risked a glance, only to find him already watching you. Even in the dim light, his storm-gray eyes were locked on yours, intense and unwavering. His expression was unreadable, but there was a weight to his stare that made your pulse stutter and breath catch in your throat.

The flickering blue light of the TV softened the sharp lines of his face, but it did nothing to dull the tension humming between you. For a moment, it felt like the room had fallen away, leaving only the two of you in the dark—silent, secret, caught in a moment neither dared to acknowledge.

You tried convincing yourself he wasn’t really looking at you, that maybe he was watching Sam or had drifted off into thought. But the flip in your stomach, the way your pulse fluttered beneath your skin, told a different story.

Bucky didn’t look away. His stare held steady, as if something deep and instinctual was keeping him tethered to you—as though he was drawn to you in the same way you were to him. The connection between you wasn’t just a passing glance. It felt ancient, inevitable, as if some unseen force had been guiding you to this moment long before either of you realized it.

The air between you felt heavy, charged with something you couldn’t quite define, and you were certain that even if you could name it, neither of you was ready. Your scent, warm and sweet, had changed in subtle ways—just enough for Bucky to notice, to make his chest tighten with a growing certainty. This wasn’t just attraction; it was recognition. Instinct. Raw instinct clawed through him, responding to the quiet, subtle shift in yours. You were close—too close—and every part of him, from the deepest part of his mind to the tension winding through his muscles, felt it.

The spell broke when Steve shifted on the couch beside him, dragging you both back to reality. You blinked, heart hammering as you tore your gaze away, heat blooming beneath your skin, spreading like wildfire, a faint sheen of sweat on your brow.

You swallowed hard, trying to refocus on the movie, but the moment lingered like a phantom touch. Even as you stared straight ahead, you could feel the weight of his gaze, its memory humming along your nerves, leaving you restless and aching in ways you didn’t understand.

When the movie ended, you escaped as quickly as you could, muttering a rushed “good night” and fleeing to your room, hoping the familiar comfort of your own space would ground you. But even surrounded by your belongings, wrapped in your own scent, you couldn't quiet the hum of awareness thrumming beneath your skin.

Bucky's scent clung to you, lodged in your senses like a memory you couldn’t shake. Pine, leather, and something darker—something wild that kept teetering you on the brink of losing control. There was something building inside you, a slow-burning awareness you weren’t ready to acknowledge, hoping no one else could sense the change taking hold of you.

Each encounter with him pulled at something deep within you, like a tide responding to the moon. His scent overshadowed everything, lingering in your senses long after he was gone.

And Bucky—you noticed everything now, every detail sharp and vivid, though you tried to convince yourself you were reading too much into it. The way his eyes lingered a second too long—but of course, people always stared at him. The slight flex of his fingers when you passed by—a habit, surely. The barely audible catch in his breath when you were near—probably just your imagination, heightened by whatever was happening to your body.

Maybe you were imagining the way his carefully controlled demeanor seemed to slip around you—those tiny cracks in his composure you couldn't stop noticing. After all, a man like him, always so disciplined, wouldn’t be affected by someone like you… would he? Yet, something raw beneath his surface called to you, making your heart race whenever he was close. The air felt electric between you, crackling with possibility—even as you tried to tell yourself it was just his effect on everyone, that you weren’t special, that it was just your body playing tricks.

After tonight, you couldn’t deny it any longer. During movie night, his stare had lingered like phantom touches, and your skin had felt hypersensitive, every nerve ending alive with awareness. Even in the sanctuary of your room, surrounded by familiar scents, you couldn’t escape the memory of pine and leather.

And as days passed, it only seemed to worsen. When Fury assigned you to oversee the team’s training equipment and Tony ensured you continued working with Steve, observing Bucky was already inevitable. Watching him felt different than those first weeks. You’d glimpsed the man beneath the careful control—caught fragments of dry humor in mission briefings, witnessed quiet camaraderie with Steve. The dangerous edge remained, but now it felt more… intentional. Like he was choosing to let people see beyond the soldier’s facade, revealing glimpses of the man underneath.

These glimpses made training observation even more daunting. Because now you knew what lay beneath his cool exterior—had witnessed the subtle humor in his eyes, the careful way he was learning to exist in spaces without defending them.

Your fingers trembled against the tablet's smooth surface at the thought of watching him work. Being that close to him during combat training, with his presence at its most intense… The thought alone made your mouth go dry.

Training sessions became their own kind of exquisite torture. Your role was simple—monitor the team’s gear, run diagnostics, and ensure everything functioned. But watching Bucky spar was anything but simple.

Between rounds, you brought him water—a straightforward task that became anything but as his eyes tracked your movement across the training room. Your fitted jacket clung to your curves, and you felt the weight of his stare as you approached. It was refreshing, seeing him like this. The quiet, brooding soldier was still there, but lately, there had been glimpses of something else—a playful charm that felt both dangerous and irresistible.

"Tryna’ keep me hydrated, doc?" His voice was rough from exertion, teasing in a way that sent heat pooling in your stomach. This was the Bucky emerging more and more lately—the one who’d somehow found his footing again, letting his guard down just enough to allow a trace of Brooklyn charm to slip through.

"Can’t have our best asset passing out from dehydration," you managed to reply, proud of how steady your voice remained. When you handed him the bottle, his fingers brushed yours, sending electricity skittering across your skin.

"Our best asset, huh?" He tipped his head back to drink, and you couldn’t help but watch his throat work, beads of sweat trailing down his neck. His eyes met yours over the bottle, darkening as they drifted to where your jacket dipped low. "Like what you see?"

This was dangerous territory—this newfound confidence of his, the way he was testing the waters between playful and flirtatious. "Just making sure you’re drinking enough water," you murmured, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. You wondered if he could hear how your heart stumbled in your chest, if he sensed the hitch in your breath when he licked a stray drop from his lower lip.

He moved with a predator’s grace—smooth, controlled, and lethal. Each punch, each fluid shift of his body, sent a pulse of heat through you. Your throat felt dry as you watched the muscles in his back ripple beneath his fitted shirt, the metal of his arm gleaming under the lights. You told yourself this was normal, that anyone would be affected watching him move like this—but deep down, you knew this was different.

At one point, he had Steve pinned to the mat, his arm flexed, holding Steve in place with ease, chest heaving with exertion. His gaze flicked to you, locking eyes for a split second that sent butterflies surging in your stomach—and a darker, more primal flutter somewhere lower. That slow-burning awareness inside you flared hot and urgent.

Your fingers slipped, and your tablet clattered to the floor with a loud thunk. Everyone turned to look, including Steve, but all you could focus on was the faint grin curling at the edge of Bucky’s mouth. Your face burned with embarrassment, but there was no mistaking the glint in his eyes—a look that made you wonder if he could sense the changes in you, if he could feel how your body was betraying every attempt at control.

You couldn’t bear to face the team after that display—after dropping your tablet like some starry-eyed recruit. Your skin felt too tight, too warm, your body thrumming with an energy you couldn’t contain. You retreated to your room, but even buried in your own blankets, you couldn’t escape the memory of his knowing smirk, the way his eyes held yours like he knew exactly what was happening to you.

The next few days passed in a haze of mounting tension. Your skin felt hypersensitive, every nerve ending alive with awareness. Even in the sanctuary of your room, surrounded by familiar scents and belongings, you couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental was shifting inside you. Sleep became elusive, your body alternating between feverish and chilled, leaving you restless and aching for... something.

By the time you wandered to the kitchen at 3 AM, exhaustion clung to you like a second skin, but sleep remained just out of reach. The compound was eerily quiet at this hour, the hum of electronics the only sound as your slippers whispered across the cool tile.

You sat at the kitchen island, elbows resting on the countertop as you flipped through your options—tea or coffee. Settling on tea, you rose to grab your favorite mug from the cabinet. The dim lighting softened everything, making the space feel smaller, more intimate, as if the night itself carried a promise of something unspoken.

You were so focused on your task that you didn’t hear him approach.

"Can't sleep?"

His voice, low and rough with sleep, startled you enough to make you gasp softly. You whirled around to find him emerging from the shadows, stepping into a sanctuary—one where, in this moment, it felt like only you and he existed. The dim light traced the sharp lines of his face, deepening the shadows beneath his cheekbones and along his jaw.

He wore soft sleep pants that rested low on his hips, and the black shirt clung to his frame, leaving little to the imagination. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier with something you couldn't name—something that thrummed between you, waiting to be acknowledged.

"I…" Your voice faltered, throat dry under his gaze. You cleared your throat and tried again. "Just wanted some tea."

Bucky stepped further into the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like a wolf closing in. For someone so large, he moved with unsettling grace—silent and fluid. "Having trouble sleeping?" he asked, though his question held a depth, as if he were offering more than conversation.

You turned back to the cabinet, reaching for your mug, but your fingers trembled. Before it could slip from your grasp, his hand wrapped around your wrist, steadying you.

"You okay?" His voice was closer now, concern threading through the rough edges.

"Yeah, I’m—" you began, but stopped as you felt his thumb pressing unconsciously against your pulse. The gentle pressure sent electricity dancing up your arm, and you couldn’t help but track how his throat worked as he swallowed.

"Hey," he murmured, voice low. His eyes darkened as they searched your face, and you watched something shift in his expression—recognition, maybe, or realization. His nostrils flared slightly. "You’ve seemed… off lately."

"I'm fine," you managed, but your voice came out breathy, unconvincing. "Just haven’t been sleeping well."

He held your gaze a moment longer, then stepped back slowly, as if it took effort to put distance between you. The absence of his touch left your skin tingling, aching for contact you couldn’t afford to want.

"Maybe some chamomile, then," he suggested, his voice rougher than before. You noticed his fingers curling into fists at his sides, his jaw clenched as he worked to maintain the distance.

You managed a small nod, turning back to the cabinet with unsteady hands. Though he’d released your wrist, he hadn’t moved back far—still standing between you and the island, leaving you caught between his body and the counter. His presence lingered, heavy and warm, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his chest.

The small space between you crackled with electricity, making it impossible to focus on the simple task of making tea. The kettle felt too loud in the silence, steam rising like a physical manifestation of the tension thickening the air.

When you finally turned back around, gripping your mug like an anchor, you found his eyes stormy, his jaw set as if he was fighting something within himself. He took a deliberate step back, creating distance that somehow made the air feel even heavier.

"I should…" he started, voice rough. "Let you get some rest." But he didn’t move immediately, as if reluctant to leave.

Something in you wanted to tell him to stay, but the words stuck in your throat. The space between you felt charged, like the air before a storm. His scent—pine and leather—wrapped around you, stronger now, making your head spin.

He moved first, turning toward the entryway with careful control, his movements almost rigid. But he paused at the threshold, his metal hand gripping the wall frame with enough force to make the material creak softly.

"Get some sleep, doll," he said without looking back, his voice carrying something dark and hungry that made your skin prickle with heat. Then he was gone, leaving you alone with the cooling tea and the phantom sensation of his touch still burning around your wrist.

After standing frozen in the kitchen for what felt like hours, you finally forced yourself back to your room. Your skin felt too tight, every nerve hypersensitive as you stumbled through the doorway. The trek down the hallway was torture—his lingering scent clung to your clothes, your skin, leaving you dizzy with desire.

You barely made it to your bed before your legs gave out. The sheets felt rough against your fevered skin, and you kicked them off with a frustrated whimper. Your wrist still burned where he touched you, the memory of his thumb against your pulse making your breath hitch.

Rolling onto your back, you pressed your palms against your eyes, trying to ground yourself. But behind closed lids, all you could see was the way his eyes had darkened in the kitchen, the tension in his jaw barely contained. Your body thrummed with awareness, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as waves of heat washed over you.

You forced yourself to breathe deeply, counting each inhale like Banner had taught you during training. One breath, then another, even as your skin prickled with need. The steady hum of the air conditioning became your focus, not the memory of Bucky's voice, rough and low in the darkness.

Slowly, exhaustion won over the fever burning through your veins. Your muscles ached from fighting against the tension, and eventually, your body surrendered to the pull of sleep. The last thing you registered was the ghost of pine and leather clinging to your shirt before darkness claimed you.

Consciousness returned slowly, like surfacing from deep water. The first thing you registered was warmth on your face—sunlight streaming through your windows, casting everything in hues of honey and gold. Your room looked almost dreamlike, dust motes dancing in the amber rays.

As your vision focused, you noticed signs of Banner’s care—a bowl of soup on your nightstand, now cold; several water bottles arranged within reach; and a damp cloth on your forehead, long since losing its coolness. The quiet thoughtfulness of it made your chest tighten with gratitude.

You sat up gingerly, testing your body’s response. The fever hadn’t broken—if anything, it burned hotter now—but the rest had given you enough strength to make you restless, to make the walls of your room feel like they were closing in.

The water bottles mocked you, lukewarm and useless against the heat coursing through your veins. Ice. You needed ice. The thought became an obsession, driving you to your feet despite shaky legs. You pulled on a thin robe over your sleep clothes, ignoring how even the silky material felt too rough against your sensitized skin.

The hallway stretched before you, bathed in that same golden light that made everything feel surreal. Your slipper-clad feet made no sound on the cool floor as you made your way toward the kitchen. The compound felt different—eerily still, as if everyone had vanished. No voices from the labs, no footsteps down corridors. Just silence, with the strange amber glow making everything look softened, dreamlike.

You moved as if in a trance, your body feeling both heavy and weightless. The fever made everything hazy, like you were watching yourself from a distance. Each breath drew in air that felt too thick, too warm, despite the steady climate control.

Your feet carried you forward without conscious thought, your path wavering slightly as you trailed a hand along the wall for balance. The golden light streaming through the windows turned the hallway into something otherworldly, making the simple journey feel infinite.

Then it hit you—pine and leather, winter air and something darker. Your body responded before your mind could catch up, drawn to his scent like a moth to flame.

As you reach the living room, your destination becomes hazy, forgotten. The room opens before you, bathed in honeyed light pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows. The hardwood floor gleams like liquid amber, stretching toward where Bucky sits, his broad frame sunk deep into the plush sofa, seeming to melt into the cushions.

His eyes lock onto yours over the book he’d been reading, and even through your fevered haze, you see the way they darken, storm-gray deepening into something darker. Neither of you moves. The air between you feels charged, heavy with unspoken words.

"Y/N," he breathes, your name a warning. His whole body tenses as if to rise, but something keeps him frozen, fingers white-knuckled around the forgotten book. You watch his throat work as he swallows hard. "You shouldn’t—you need to go back to your room."

To him, you must look like something out of a dream—or a nightmare, depending on his self-control. Your silk robe catches the light as you move, revealing glimpses of your tank top and shorts underneath. One sock has slipped down your ankle, and your hair falls messily around your face. Your cheeks are flushed, lips parted in shallow breaths.

You take an unsteady step into the room, looking as if you’re floating across the hardwood, each faltering step a deliberate tease. When you reach the armchair, your robe slips further off one shoulder as you grip the chair for support. "I needed…" The words trail off. Did you need ice? Water? Everything feels secondary to the pull you feel toward him.

The room sways slightly beneath your feet. Bucky shifts, fighting the instinct to reach for you. You watch his chest rise with a sharp breath as your scent reaches him, sweet and heavy in the golden air. A bead of sweat trails down your neck, disappearing beneath your tank top.

"You're burning up," he says roughly, his voice holding a darker edge that makes a heat pool in your stomach. His pupils are blown wide as he tracks every small movement of your body.

You attempt to lower yourself into the armchair, but the world tilts. Your knee catches the edge of the coffee table as you stumble, a breathless giggle escaping your lips at your own clumsiness, and your robe slips down to reveal more of your shoulders.

"Shit," Bucky mutters, finally breaking his careful stillness. "You're gonna hurt yourself." He rises in one fluid motion, crossing the space between you in two strides. His hands hover near your arms, not quite touching. "Let’s get you situated."

"M’okay," you insist, though your legs feel like jelly, and you sway into him unconsciously as your robe slips off completely. His hands finally make contact with your bare arms, and the touch sends electricity racing across your fevered skin. "Just needed to sit..."

"Yeah, I can see that." His voice is strained, almost amused, but you hear the concern underneath. He tries to steady you, guiding you toward the chair, but your knees buckle in that moment.

"Alright—" He catches you against his chest, the sudden contact drawing a small huff from you. You feel more than hear his sharp intake of breath. “You alright?” he asks, peeling you off him, holding you at arm's length.

“Mm—” Your body aches at the loss of heat, eyebrows scrunching in annoyance. You sigh, dragging your gaze up Bucky’s large frame until you meet his darkened eyes. “Yeah, m’fine.” Huffing, you look away.

“Don’t lie.” He steps closer, pulling you in. Your breath hitches.

“I’m not…” Sweat beads on the back of your neck, and a lump forms in your throat. You try to take a deep breath, but with Bucky so close, it’s unbearable. Unknowingly, you grab at Bucky’s shirt, fisting the fabric in your hand.

“Tell the truth.” His gaze drops to where your hand grips his shirt, and something unreadable flickers across his face. He gently pries your fingers from the fabric, his own hands lingering on yours a moment too long. His voice is low, almost a growl. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me, doll.”

The nickname makes your throat tighten, pulse jumping, skin prickling with awareness. You should step back, say something to break the magnetic pull between you, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you lean in closer, closing the small distance between you. God, you wanted him so badly, and it was excruciating.

He inhales sharply, his hands settling on your shoulders, as if to steady you—or maybe himself. “Doll…” The word escapes him again, rough and raw, like he’s barely holding back. “Say something—tell me to leave.” The command is more a plea, his voice thick with barely contained desperation, brows drawn tight in concern.

He watches you, his words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. You feel their weight pressing down, his warning wrapped within the plea. Your mind races, considering every reason to step back, every way this could complicate things.

“I—” You rake your hands up his torso, fingers dragging lightly against the fabric of his shirt. Snaking your arms around his neck, you pull him impossibly close, sharing the air between you. Neither of you speaks, neither of you moves. You feel his chest heaving against yours.

“Y/N…” he whispers, almost painfully. His hand, still warm on your arm, travels up to cradle your neck, thumb on your jaw as he tilts your head. His hooded eyes linger on your lips, and you unconsciously lick them. He sucks in a sharp breath.

The golden light streaming through the windows catches in his dark hair, turning the loose strands framing his face into threads of amber. Your hands slide up, fingertips brushing the back of his neck, where his shoulder-length hair falls free, some pieces tucked carelessly behind his ear. You let your fingers tangle in the soft strands, feeling them slip like silk between your fingers. You hesitate for only a second before you whisper, “I need to know I’m not the only one.”

For a heartbeat, he’s utterly still, his eyes searching yours, and then his hand tightens just slightly on your waist, with a tenderness that steals your breath. “You’re not,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours, his voice rough and honest. “Not even close.”

The moment his words register, your last thread of control snaps. You finally, finally meet his lips with all the desperation that’s been building for weeks. A rough sound escapes him, vibrating through your chest as his other hand finds your waist, pulling you flush against him. The kiss is devastating in its intensity—wild, demanding, and absolutely consuming, like you’re both trying to devour each other whole.

His lips press firmly against yours, the scrape of his stubble rough on your heated skin, and a pained whine escapes your mouth—whether from pain or need, neither of you can tell, but it spurs Bucky on. He deepens the kiss, his hands pressing you closer, tighter.

Your fingers, tangled in his hair, tug at the strands as you push yourself up on your toes, arching into him, your body ignited by his touch. A wave of need crashes through you, driven by every instinct you’ve been holding back, and you’re already pushing him back toward the sofa, your movements frenzied as his hands trace the curve of your waist, his fingers firm and possessive.

As you push him toward the sofa, a flicker of guilt pierces through the fog clouding your mind. It’s quick but sharp, cutting through the pull that’s been building for weeks. Everything’s moving too fast, crossing boundaries you haven’t even had time to define, and the uncertainty knots inside you. But your body refuses to listen, as though it recognizes him in a way your mind can’t fully grasp, holding you close.

You stumble back with him until his legs hit the edge of the sofa, and he sinks down, pulling you with him until you’re straddling his lap. His hands slide up to grip your hips, steadying you as you settle over him. The moment you feel his body beneath you, hard and solid, a fresh wave of heat surges through you, causing you to grind your hips against his slowly, testing the waters.

The guilt slips through the haze once more, cutting into your thoughts like a knife. You press your hands to his chest, fingers splaying over his muscles, and pull back enough to see concern flicker in his eyes.

“Buck,” you whisper, caught between confession and apology. “I wanted us to take our time…” Your hands drift lower, grazing just beneath his shirt’s hem, brushing over the coarse hair trailing downward. The warmth of his skin under your fingertips makes your breath hitch, and a shiver runs through you as you continue, voice softer, more vulnerable. “To let this mean something.”

Your fingers trace over the waistband of his pajama pants, then dip lightly between the open buttons, your touch featherlight, drawing a sharp intake of breath from him. His body jolts beneath you, jaw clenching in response. His hands flex on your hips, holding you steady, his gaze dark and hungry, struggling for restraint.

“I can’t… I can’t stop myself,” you murmur, voice thick with need. Yet, your hands betray any hesitation, moving slowly, steadily, opening each button, exposing his skin inch by inch, the heat radiating from him only spurring you on. The admission escapes your lips, almost a whimper. “I feel like I’m losing control.”

Bucky’s breath comes out ragged, his fingers pressing into your skin as he fights to stay steady beneath your touch. “Then lose it,” he murmurs, voice rough with desire, his thumb tracing slow circles over your hipbone, sending warmth through you. “Take control, baby.” His tone is a low, commanding murmur, yet open, a willing offering beneath you. “I’m here to give you exactly what you need… use me, all of me.”

“God, you’re unbelievable…” You laugh breathlessly, but with his words, all your anxieties dissolve, the tight knot inside loosening as he smirks and pulls you down for another heated kiss.

With his permission, something inside you snaps, all restraint dissolving as his hands guide your hips down onto his, pulling you in close. You both let out a guttural moan as you sink into his lap, the thin layers of fabric between you doing nothing to dull the intense pressure of his thick length pressing up against you. Heat radiates from him, his arousal straining beneath his pants, sending a dizzying surge of need through you, leaving you breathless.

With each roll of your hips, you’re consumed by him, the ache pulsing through your core, tethering you to the warmth of his body and the intoxicating pull of his scent. He presses against you, hard and unyielding, a promise of everything you crave, every inch of him driving you closer to surrender. A shiver runs down your spine, every nerve alive with anticipation; it’s too much, yet somehow not enough.

A low chuckle escapes him, his chest vibrating beneath your hands as he watches you grind on him, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. His hands wrap firmly around your hips, guiding your movements in a possessive grip that leaves no doubt he’s claiming you in every way. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice dark and rich, gaze sweeping over every inch of you. “Such a needy little omega, strung out and desperate, aren’t you?” The words ripple through you, sparking heat that surges through your body, making your heart pound, filling you with a warmth that blurs your vision.

A soft whimper escapes your lips, each grind amplifying the tension clawing through your chest, and it’s overwhelming—almost too much. You’re losing yourself, each moan growing louder, desperate, until Bucky’s thumb presses over your lips, quieting you.

Bucky’s hand covers your mouth gently, a warning smirk tugging at his lips. “Keep it down, sweetheart,” he whispers, his tone edged with danger, but you can’t help the needy sound that slips past his hand, your body bucking in response. You pull back slightly, eyes wide, voice a breathless murmur as you ask, “Where is everyone?”

The gleam in his eyes darkens, and he grabs your jaw, pulling you close until his breath brushes your lips. “Forget them,” he growls, voice low and possessive, “Focus on me. Eyes on me, omega.” His grip tightens, his words sending a rush of warmth through you, making your hips grind harder, a needy whimper spilling out as he pulls you into a hungry, messy kiss. Teeth graze, tongues tangle, his control evident in the way his hand holds you in place, claiming every shiver, every gasp.

“Alpha… please…” you gasp, voice cracking as you press yourself harder against him, slick soaking through the fabric, feeling the thick, throbbing bulge of his knot beneath you. “Need you… need it so bad.” Your words spill out, desperation lacing every syllable, your body responding to his presence in a way that both thrills and terrifies you. The pressure, the heat, his intensity—it’s everything, almost too much, yet somehow not nearly enough.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he growls, voice dark with possession as his hands slide up to grip your waist, fingers pressing with a force that makes your skin burn. “You’re mine, all mine… dripping for me just from grinding on me.” His words spark something wild and primal, your body moving without thought, surrendering to the rhythm, feeling yourself unravel beneath his gaze.

But as the tension mounts, something inside you starts to break. It’s overwhelming, an aching need so intense that your chest tightens, a gasp escaping as tears begin to blur your vision. It’s too much—the pressure, the pleasure, the helplessness of being so completely in his hands, needing him but unable to take it all just yet. A single tear slips down your cheek, and then another, and soon you’re trembling in his hold, soft, helpless sounds falling from you as you press closer, uncertain if it’s pain or pleasure overtaking you.

Bucky’s eyes narrow as he notices, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his gaze softening for a moment. “Look at you, all worked up,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, yet laced with something almost tender. “Can’t handle it, can you? My little omega, so sensitive.” His words make the ache worse, the tears coming faster as he leans in, pressing a possessive kiss against your lips, swallowing the soft, broken sounds you make.

“Shh… you’re okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice dark and rich in your ear, a shiver coursing through you as his hand steadies you, grounding you in his hold. “Not yet, but soon. I’m going to give you everything,” he promises, his tone thick with possession as he presses you firmly to him. “Fill you, claim you, mark every inch of you until there’s nothing left but us, nothing left but me inside you.” His grip tightens, his words a dark promise, and your pulse quickens.

Slowly, Bucky shifts, guiding you back as he leans forward, tilting you until your neck is exposed. Your breath hitches, anticipation winding tight within you, thinking for a split second he’s going to mark you. But instead, he presses a hot, lingering kiss to your collarbone, his lips grazing down your skin as his hand holds you steady. Each soft kiss along your collar sends a thrill through you, his mouth tracing up to the nape of your neck, where he lets his teeth graze lightly, nipping just enough to make you shiver.

Then, with a low growl, he pulls you closer, thrusting hard against you as his teeth sink into your skin, just shy of a mark. The sharp bite sends you over the edge, your body trembling, every nerve igniting as you come undone in his arms, shaking as he holds you steady, his possessive touch grounding you through each wave of pleasure.

Your body quakes in his hold, tremors rolling through you as you cling to him, breathless, every pulse of pleasure leaving you weightless, completely taken. Bucky’s arms stay wrapped around you, grounding you, his lips brushing tenderly over the spot he just bit, his tongue soothing the faint sting as you gasp softly against him.

“There we go… that’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick and velvety as he strokes your back, one hand pressing into the small of your spine, holding you close as your breaths slow. His eyes are dark, filled with satisfaction as he watches you, savoring the sight of you so vulnerable, so utterly his.

Your body settles against him, the intense high fading into a soft, hazy warmth. Almost instinctively, you continue to move your hips in slow, gentle circles, soft whimpers escaping as you melt into his shoulder, eyelids growing heavy, drifting somewhere between bliss and sleep.

His hand strokes up your spine, grounding you with each possessive touch. “You feel that?” he whispers, his mouth brushing your ear, his words sending another shiver through you. “This is just the beginning, sweetheart. You’re mine, and I’m far from done with you.”

A small, needy sound slips from your lips as your hips press against him, despite the exhaustion pulling at you. He smirks, fingers tracing slow, possessive patterns along your waist. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice a low, satisfied growl. His hand grazes your hip, drawing gentle circles. “But I want more. Think you can handle that?”

You manage a nod, a sleepy, eager response, melting further into him as your eyelids flutter shut. Just as you’re drifting toward sleep, he chuckles softly, pressing a warm kiss to the top of your head. “First, let’s get some rest, sweetheart,” he whispers, voice a gentle command as he lifts you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest.

The golden hour light that once bathed the room has deepened into the cool, quiet blue of night, shadows settling around you as he carries you to the bed. The ache in your body has softened, replaced by a warmth, a certainty that relaxes you in his hold, knowing you’re exactly where you belong.

As he lowers you onto the sheets, your fingers instinctively curl into his shirt, needing to keep him close even in your drowsy haze. His hand brushes tenderly over your cheek, the glint in his gaze a promise that makes your heart race yet leaves you calm, knowing he’s yours, that you’re meant to be right here in his arms. The last thing you feel is the weight of his touch grounding you, a promise of what’s to come as sleep finally pulls you under.

---

a/n: all i feel is frustration

[animequeen122]

Tsukishima Kei's intense gaze falls to the ground, a flush at the tips of his ears, slowly spreading to his face.

"Excuse me? To be your fake-girlfriend?"

Tsukishima nods. You're by no means friends. You're only... neighbors.

A story where Tsukishima tells a small white lie to his friends and invites you for the ride that it becomes.

warnings: aged-up haikyuu! characters (+20), university student! tsukishima kei x university student! fem!reader, fake relationship, stangers to lovers?, friends to lovers?, fake dating, eventual smut!, trying my best at slow burn

masterlist!

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+ more coming soon!!

full fic masterlist!

hi hi hi! welcome to my new fic! it you would like to be tagged, please, let me know! it will be a loooooong one, so i hope you enjoy it!

[animequeen122]

⛥ﾟ・。 rice crackers

synopsis: after nami discovers a little girl stowing away on the sunny, the crew comes together to interrogate her... but she won't stop claiming to be your daughter

cw: lots and lots of fluff, comfort, zoro is emotionally constipated, your daughter's name is Yuki (i just picked something random), you and Zoro art not together yet, etc.

a/n: ending might be kinda rushed i'm tired

"And I'm out!" you cheered, throwing down your winning hand with a flourish, donning a triumphant smile.

"No way! You have to be cheating!" Usopp exclaimed, accusingly, looking down at the cards with wide eyes. "That's thirty-four times in a row!"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you looped your arms around the huge stack of rice crackers, pulling them closer.

"No need be a sore loser. You know I won far and square," you teased, letting out a small giggle as you stuck out your tongue at the sniper.

"Like hell you did! My strategy was flawless! It was foolproof! There was no way you could've beat it!"

"What strategy?" your brows flattened, "Usopp... we're playing Go Fish. I don't think there's much to it."

"So? My brilliant mind can formulate a strategy for any kind of game, no matter how simple," he bellowed, proudly, as if that was some sort of feat.

"Yeah... brilliant."

The three of you, completely bored out of your minds, had plopped yourselves down on the deck to play some cards, hoping to pass the time until you arrived on the next island.

The boys had already done their daily fishing, as well as their daily kitchen raid, having sang with Brook and hung out with Franky a little bit earlier.

Meanwhile, you had already completed your training for the day, as per Zoro's workout regiment, having met with Robin for your two-woman book club after you took a shower.

But now you were completely free, and figured scamming the boys out of some food would be a good way to kill time.

"Dang. I coulda swore my strategy was gonna work," your captain huffed, glancing down at his hands, which held well over half of the deck.

"Luffy, why do you have so many cards?" you asked, raising a brow.

"More is better right?" he asked, a little lost.

"Is that how you've been playing this whole time?" Usopp sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose

"That's alright," you assured, smiling cheekily as you split your huge pile of rice crackers in half and slid some in front of Luffy. "We can share."

"Really?! Thanks, (y/n)!" Luffy beamed, eyes starry as he began to stuff his face.

"Hey! Why does he get a cut and I don't?!" Usopp fired back, feeling excluded.

"'Cause he's not a sore loser," you pulled down your lower eyelid, sticking out your tongue once again.

"No fair!"

"(Y/N)!"

Suddenly, Nami burst from her office, the door slamming harshly against the wall and sending a jolt of shock down your spine.

'The hell?!'

Surprised, the three of you turned toward the balcony, where Nami stood with furrowed brows, her body positioned in a way that concealed something behind her.

"Jeez, Nami, what's your problem?" Usopp asked, brow raised.

"Yeah, what's all the yelling for?" Luffy agreed, shoving another fistful of rice crackers in his mouth.

"Nami, my love! Is everything alright?!" Sanji came twirling out the kitchen, lovesick, as usual.

She scoffed, her attention laser-focused on you.

"(y/n), when were you going to tell me you had a daughter?! And why the hell is she stowed away in my office closet?!"

"WHAT?!"

You nearly laughed, absolutely gobsmacked by the words coming out of her mouth.

Luffy, Usopp, and Sanji's jaws nearly fell to the floor, eyes as wide as dinner plates as they turned to you, utterly shocked.

"(Y/N), YOU HAVE A KID?!?"

"NO!" you scoffed, incredulously. "I'VE BEEN WITH YOU IDIOTS THE WHOLE TIME! I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL SHE'S TALKING ABOUT!"

"Mommy?" a tiny voice perked up, peeking out from behind your navigator's leg.

Your head snapped over to its source, and your heart nearly dropped to your ass once you got a good look.

It was you.

Or, well, not you exactly, but a younger version of you.

From her hair to her skin.

From her skin to her eyes.

From her eyes to the look on her face.

The only distinguishable differences between you two being both her youthful expressions, and her sharp scowl, which eerily resembled that of the ship's swordsman.

Though that scowl instantly melted away once she locked eyes with you, a blinding smile stretching across her lips.

"Mommy!"

Running out from behind Nami, she jumped up on the railing and launched herself off the balcony, much to your dismay.

"No!"

Without hesitation, you dove forward, catching her in your arms before pulling her into your chest, tucking your knees in to shield her from the impact as you rolled in the the grass.

In that moment, something in you awakened.

An instinct?

An obligation?

You weren't sure.

But something deep within your spirit couldn't stand seeing the little girl hurt, past the fact that she was a child.

You felt a sort of responsibility for her, despite barely having known her.

"What were you thinking?! You could've seriously hurt yourse—!"

Your scolding stopped once you felt something staring at you, forcing you to look down at its source, only to see the girl looking up with starry eyes, absolutely in awe of the sight before her.

"Mommy, you're so pretty!" she marveled, tiny hands rising to cup your face. "You look different!"

Your heart nearly melted at her wonderment, a small smile rising you your lips.

"Honey, I think you have me confu—"

"Is everything alright out here?" Robin asked, concerned, as she emerged from the cabin, looking around at the scene on the deck.

"Yohohoho! That thud gave me such a fright I nearly jumped out my skin!" Brook cackled, walking alongside her. "Or I would've if I had any..."

"Yeah, what's all the commotion? Someone fighting?" Franky asked, following after them, taking a swig of his bottle of cola.

"(y/n), why didn't you tell us you had a daughter?" your captain smiled, walking over to you. "She looks fun!"

"DAUGHTER?!" the three newcomers exclaimed.

"Woah! Uncle Luffy!" the girl gasped, taking a moment to look the boy over. "You're so tiny! Last I saw you, you were this big!"

'Uncle Luffy?'

She jumped out your arms, landing on the grass and standing on her tippy-toes, reaching her hand as high as she could.

"See?"

"Last you saw me?" he raised a brow, rubbing his chin in confusion. "But this is the first time I'm meeting you..."

"Okay, I think we need to get a few things sorted out," Nami sighed, joining the three of you, the rest of the crew watching intently.

It was now abundantly clear that you had no idea who the little girl was; but, even so, her uncanny resemblance to you was enough cause for suspicion.

They needed to get down to the bottom of this.

Carefully, Nami squatted down to the girl's level, resting her arms on her knees.

"Hun, can you tell me your name? And how you got here?" she asked, sweetly.

"Uh-huh!" the girl nodded, eagerly. "I was at home with my daddy and we were playing hide and seek, and I was hiding in the closet. But my daddy is so bad at hide and seek and I started to get sleepy waiting for him to find me. So I took a nap."

She shifted from her heels to her tippy-toes, swaying as she told the story.

"But when I woke up I was on mommy and daddy's old ship, and you were at your desk, Auntie Nami."

'Auntie Nami?'

This was just getting weirder and weirder.

"You think its 'cause of a devil fruit?" Sanji asked, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Someone put her here?"

"I doubt it," Robin shook her head. "We're in the middle of the ocean. With no other person on board and no island in sight, we're out of range. No one should be able to reach us here."

"Unless she stowed away from the last island and is making all this up," Usopp suggested. "What if this is all a trap?"

"Hey! I'm not lying!" the girl pouted, cheeks puffed.

"A trap that looks exactly like (y/n)? I find that hard to believe," Franky shrugged off, turning to you. "You sure she's not yours?"

"For the millionth time... yes."

"But... mommy?" her pout deepened, saddened by your statement. "It's me..."

Walking forward, she pulled a necklace from under her shirt, holding up a small, heart-shaped locket for you to see.

It was gold, with beautifully intricate engravings lining its surface, its clasp sealed with the tiniest emeralds you'd ever seen.

"You don't remember me?"

Carefully, she opened the locket, allowing you to lean forward and get a look at the picture.

And once you did, you nearly fell right through the floor, utterly shocked.

There sat a picture of you, Zoro, and the girl, wide smiles adorning your faces as the swordsman seemed to be lifting you both up at the same time, you sitting pretty in his beefy arm, and the girl sitting on the back of his neck, holding his forehead for purchase.

The two of you looked slightly older, not drastically seasoned with age, but obviously distinguishable.

It couldn't be more than ten years in the future...

But that wasn't the only thing that caught your attention.

After scanning over the whole photo once again, your eyes immediately trained on the matching, gold bands adorning both your ring fingers, the dots slowly beginning to connect—evident by your expression.

Noticing your shock, the others huddled around, stealing their own glances and sharing their own looks of surprise.

You and the swordsman not only marry in the somewhat near future, but also start a family together.

An incredibly happy family, if the image was anything to go off of.

Your entire world was being flipped upside down.

Never, in all the time you'd known him, did allow yourself to believe the two of you would end up together.

Sure, your feelings for Zoro ran deep—deeper than they'd ever ran for anyone else—but you knew nature of your relationship.

You were his best friend.

From what you knew, he'd never felt any romantic inclination toward anyone, too immersed in his goal to focus on anything else.

You thought you were just a training partner.

Just a buddy to drink with.

Just person to talk to over night watch.

Just a friend to cover during battle.

Not a lifelong partner.

Not someone he'd want to have a kid with.

Taking note of your spiral, Nami set her hand down on you shoulder, grounding you, before she turned to the little girl, one last question in mind.

"Honey... could you tell us your name?"

She nodded, looking up at the whole crew with an expression of pride.

"My name is Roronoa Yuki! And I'm gonna be the World's Greatest Swordsman!"

You nearly fainted right there, the rest of the crew gaping at the irrefutable evidence.

This was, indeed, you and Zoro's daughter.

On the balcony above you all, a spit take was heard, everyone turning around to see the man of the hour staring down at the girl, eye wide and bottle of sake long forgotten as he attempted to rationalize what he just heard, as well as the sight before him.

"Daddy!" Yuki beamed, utterly elated to see the scowling face of her father.

Eagerly, she waved at the man as he stood there, quite literally struck dumb.

Someone had a hell of a lot of explaining to do...

"Wait... I don't get it," Yuki muttered, voice small as she ate a fistful of rice crackers, turning to the green haired swordsman next to her. "You're not my dad?"

She seemed saddened by the fact, as well as confused, seeing as the man looked exactly like her father.

"If I'm bein' honest, I'm a little lost, too. I came into all this a little later than everyone else..." Zoro admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "But if what Robin said is right, then I am your dad, just from a time before you were born."

Her little face lit up with understanding, "Ohhhhhhh. So before you and mommy fell in love?"

Zoro's breath slightly hitched at the wording, still trying to process the multitude of thoughts and feelings racing through his head.

After Nami and Robin gave him the brass tacks breakdown of who Yuki was and how she got there, he felt the sudden urge to lay down, emotionally overwhelmed by the whole situation.

His future was sitting right next to him, eating a stack of rice crackers.

Now don't get him wrong, his uneasiness—and slight embarrassment—about the whole situation wasn't because of you, or the girl, or anyone else for that matter.

It was because you had to discover his feelings like this.

Or at least get an idea of it.

You were one of his closest friends on the crew, someone he had fought alongside since the beginning (you being among the first to join).

Someone who had saved his life as many times as he'd saved yours.

Someone who would help him to bed after a wild night of drinking and parties.

Someone whose touch sent his heart into a frenzy, and made his head spin.

He wasn't stupid.

He knew what these feelings were.

He knew what these feelings meant.

He was in love with his best friend.

Yet, rejecting that fact made it less real, less daunting, and thus, less bothersome.

But it was hard to remain in his bubble of denial and tranquility when the living, breathing evidence defying him was chowing down not too far away.

With a sigh, Zoro glanced at the small girl out the corner of his eye, watching as she stuffed another heaping handful of crackers into her mouth.

God, she looked just like you.

It was almost baffling.

Shaking his head of the thoughts, he decided now was as good a time as any to ask some questions.

"So... am I training you to be a swordsman?" he asked, awkwardly, eyes slightly shifting away from her.

"Mhmm!" Yuki nodded, looking up at the man. "We started a few months ago, and its super hard! But you always tell me that the path of a swordsman is lined with countless trials, and if I wanna be the best, I gotta beat them all."

She grinned, determinedly.

"So I always push myself harder."

Zoro smiled, slightly, warmed by his daughter's determination.

She was his, for sure...

"What about hand-to-hand?" he asked again, intrigued.

"I do that with mommy," she answered. "She says she was always better at it than you."

He half-chuckled, half-scoffed, almost amused by the statement, "She wishes... you should see her now."

The rest of the crew had gone ashore on an island they'd come across, hoping to find a way to send Yuki back to her correct time.

This, of course, left Zoro on ship watching duty, which, in this case, translated to baby-sitting duty.

Just then, a smirk rose to his lips, his ego slightly boosted by the awe-struck look of the child.

"One thing you shouldn't forget, kid, is I don't lose, with swords or without."

"Except in arguments with mommy..."

His breath hitched, brows flattening at the remark.

'Shoulda figured that one...'

He couldn't win arguments with you now.

When you'd get all up in his face—brows furrowed, finger poking his chest, tone dangerous—was, oddly enough, one of the times when he found you most attractive.

You looked hot when you were mad.

And every time, without fail, he'd be too busy staring at you to pay any attention to what you were saying, which would only result in more yelling.

Speaking of which...

"Hey, kid..." he started, seriously, the girl looking at him with confusion at the sudden change in demeanor. "I wanna know something."

Yuki nodded, ready for his question.

"What's your mom like in the future?"

The girl instantly lit up, perfectly ready to gush about her beloved mother.

"She's is the nicest, toughest, most prettiest mommy in the whole, wide world!" she exclaimed, exuberantly. "She told me all the stories of her awesome fights and adventures on the sea. Even the super scary ones!"

A small smile stretched across his lips, warmed by the girl's overwhelming adoration for you.

"She did, did she?" he nodded for her to continue. "Stories like what?"

"Like how you guys were swallowed by a giant whale!" she exclaimed. "And how you met the warrior giant pirates! And how you went to war with the World Government and saved Auntie Robin!"

Practically bouncing with excitement, she grabbed Zoro's sleeve, clutching it tightly with enthusiasm.

"And how you and Uncle Luffy fought two, huge dragons!"

He smirked, pride puffing his chest at the memory of injuring Kaido, as well as the dragon he decapitated back on Punk Hazard.

It all must've sounded pretty fantastical to a child.

"That's why I can't wait to get strong! I'll be able to have my own adventures!" she stated, dreamily. "Monji's already learning from Uncle Sanji how to cook yummy food! And you and mommy are teaching me how to fight! So we'll be ready to join a crew in no time!"

"Wait..." he paused a moment, not recognizing a name. "Monji?"

'Don't tell me...'

"Mhmm! My best friend! Uncle Sanji is his dad, so he's teaching him everything he knows about kicking and cooking!"

The idea nearly gave Zoro heart burn, the man's calloused hand coming up to clutch his chest.

Not only did Curlybrow have a son—the fact that he was able to settle down already mind-boggling enough—but he also had the audacity to allow the little brat to fraternize with his daughter.

Who knows what kind of pervy, ero-cook nonsense he was teaching the kid?

The way Yuki was gushing about the boy didn't bode well at all; her little self went on and on and on about how strong and kind Monji already was.

Zoro could practically see it.

His little girl falling in love with and marrying Sanji's son, forcing the two of them to become family forever.

A fate worse than death.

"Hey, wait," he realized, suddenly remembering something gravely important, easily surpassing all the other questions he'd asked you. "If I'm your dad... and (y/n)'s your mom... then that means you know how we got together..."

Yuki nodded, tucking a small strand of hair behind her ear.

"Mhm. You told me one time," she confirmed. "You two were on a battlefield when it happened."

Intrigued, Zoro listened closely, his gaze not leaving the girl for a moment as she continued.

"Mommy got injured really bad, and you had to keep the bad guys from hurting her while Uncle Chopper patched her boo-boos. But once she was okay, you pulled her up and gave her a big kiss! Mommy says it was soooo romantic!"

Zoro playfully rolled his eyes at the cliche.

Who knew future him would be so cheesy?

Either way, he wasn't complaining. He ended up with you, and that was all that mattered.

Though... he did have one more question...

"Hey, do—?"

But his words were interrupted by soft snores, the man looking down at his lap to see the little girl had laid her head down on his thigh, no doubt falling asleep after all her excitement.

The swordsman's heart melted slightly, and his shoulders sank, his calloused hand coming up to swipe a few stray crumbs from her cheeks before resting on her back.

As much as he hated to admit it, he could get used to this...

The little girl napping on his leg brought out a certain instinct within him—one that burned with the will to protect her and her happiness at all costs.

All the awkwardness and emotional outpouring would be worth it if they came to this outcome...

And as you boarded the ship with the rest of the crew, solution to the dilemma in hand, you couldn't help but think the exact same thing—your eyes settling on the sight of your sleeping, soon-to be husband, and your snoring, soon-to-be daughter, laying peacefully together.

You could get used to this, too...

[animequeen122]

Just a heads up right now: on the day when Trump dies, I’m going to be extremely tasteless about it. It’s going to get ugly. You are going to see a side of me I am not proud of. I don’t want any call-outs in my inbox, I’m stating right now that lines will be crossed.

[animequeen122]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAs cold as your heart ･:*:｡𓏲ּ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDr. ishida uryu x f! reader

Chapter 0: back in town. six years have passed since he left for med school; finally, Uryu is back... as well as that never ending pain.

❄ a/n: not me starting a new -pretty out of the blue - fic. I needed to rest my head from all of the studying and while I was listening to "Yoü and I" by Lady Gaga, I thought of Uryu and a pretty tragic love story that had no closure after TYBW. I must ask for feedback with this one, if you wish for me to continue with this story, please, let me know 💖 ❄ tw: not much, very angsty for now. I want this to be a sweet love story that will -of course- contain smut as we go further into it.

“Stop, stop please… stop ignoring me! This is hurting me!” you plead, knees hitting the ground, drawing blood out of them, allowing the cold cement underneath to soak into that crimson fluid of life. 

His glasses have fogged; it is not the cold, nor the snow as white as his clothes… it’s just the tears sprouting nonstop from the bottom of his heart. 

“I beg you please, leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you… it's been years, forget about me” Ishida whisper, knowing too damn well those words are pure lies. 

How much time has passed? It’s been years since the war, since the “treason”. The scar on your body still remains like a bittersweet memory of those arrows. A single one, just one, it was enough to cross your heart. 

“You didn’t mean it, I know that… please, I have forgiven you! In fact, I’ve never once blamed you!” you scream, a night so cold it could freeze your bones but not as much as Uryu’s heart. 

He keeps walking away from you. Uryu has promised himself not to ever falter, not ever succumb… how could he hurt you? from all the people? That single arrow, a single ray of blue light and reiishii… so deadly, so painful… you, the sacred woman he wished to protect, even in silence, had fallen upon one of his own attacks. Was the fight worthy after all? Saving the world? Avenging his mother? Was it all worthy if in exchange, from all the people, you, the one he swore not to hurt, paid the price of his betray? 

“Please…” you murmur, the pain of that last word unheard by him, hurts harder than any scar imbued into your flesh. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Please, please, please… please… Uryuu, please”

You remain there, with snow pooling on your shoulders, with your thighs getting coated with bloody knees, with tears freezing, and a heart broken… through blurry eyes, he disappears among the foggy night, after all this time, Uryu has left. Again. 

A pair of headlights blink behind you; however, you don’t notice them until the car stops right by your side. 

“My son is an idiot, isn’t he? Come on” Ryuuken helps you stand up. 

You sniffle, looking into the deep blue eyes of that man who you’ve always considered a father. 

“Indeed…” you murmur, sitting on the passanger’s seat. 

Dr. Ishida hands you a handkerchief and starts driving in silence. You know he is probably driving you home, though you don’t care. 

“Ryuuken-sama, I’ve never blamed him. I swear I- I knew the moment he left what he meant to do! I… missed him so much, six whole years away, and now that he is back in Karakura… why?! Why he ignores me? Is he married? Did he find love in med school?”  you ask, in between sobbing, and blowing your nose. That poor piece of fabric might never come back to Dr. Ishida’s hands. 

The snow haired man sighs; he knows exactly why his own son is ignoring you. And he is also aware his son is as stupid as he could be, but he is also noble to no extent… 

“My son, as I always say, is an idiot. But he also has the biggest heart you could possibly imagine, (Name)…” 

Three days before.

“You are back” Ryuuken words, as always dry. However, his dull eyes immediately regain a shine he thought he had lost the day his son left. 

His tiny little black-haired version of him has now bloomed into a young adult. His glasses, still the same. His hair, perhaps a little longer. And now, carrying a document where it says he has become a paediatrician. 

Uryu, in anxious response, clenches his fist on the handle of his carry-on bag. As if time have stopped, the people walking by the arrivals hall of Karakura’s tiny aerodrome seem to disappear. 

His glasses reflect the image of a father that acts tough but is dying to hug his son… and same goes for Ryuuken, with glasses showing a man that turns into a kid and begs for his father’s love. 

“Seems like it…” Uryu’s blue eyes fixed on the floor. 

“Come on, Dr. Ishida” Ryuuken mumbles, with a pride his voice couldn’t conceal, saying nothing but everything at the same time. 

A soft smile garnishes Uryu’s lips, Ryuuken hasn’t change a single bit.

“Six years have passed, and this town still looks the same” Uryu grunts; the big city has probably changed the way he sees the world. 

Ryuuken remains silent, looking at the passenger’s seat from the corner of his eye. It is true, the city has barely changed, though the people living on it did. All of them; some have even married and now have kids… except for one person; you. 

“The city and a person in particular” the Dr. says, with his eyes fixed into the traffic light ahead. The bomb had been dropped… 

“She- she hasn’t left?” Uryu asks, looking at his father with eyes opened big and pale skin turning even paler. 

“Hm… how could she? You idiot”

[to be continued]

[animequeen122]

More Than A Favor

Bakugou x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, Breeding, Awkward Sexual Situations, Masturbation, Pregnancy, Friends to Lovers, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Humor

WC: 5.6K

a/n: This is a reupload too. But I wanted to get it out because i started thinking about the moment these two are waiting for the positive pregnancy test. Also my b, this reader is so heavily marq coded all the way down to the way she speaks im so sorry bahahah. BUT this started off as a comfort fic so.... that's why it's like this. sorry.

“I just need you to spurt in my pussy so I can have a baby! Easy peasy!” 

You’re standing in the hallway of your shared apartment building with Katsuki and he can’t believe his ears right now. Of all the years of being your best friend and listening to the wild shit that comes out of your mouth, you’d think he’d be immune to the surprise. But like always you’re always keeping him on his toes.

Still though, this “favor” might prove to be a little too much even for him. You know he’d do anything for you, the same way you’d do anything for him. You’ve been the one constant over the last few years too. Stuck by him when he was an asshole, when he wasn’t an asshole, when he ghosted that girl he was dating, even bailed him out when he got arrested for breaking the stupid paparazzi's camera.

He grimaces and wrinkles his nose in disgust, “Ugh, dont fucking say it like that!” 

You laugh boisterously, your dimples sinking into your cheeks as you beam at him, “How else do you want me to say it? Is that not what would be happening?” 

“Yeah but do you gotta use the word spurt? It’s…” he hesitates. 

“Fine. Would you rather me say ‘Katsuki will you please ejaculate all the sperm saved up in your testicles into my vagina so that you can fertilize the egg in my uterus?’” 

“You’re a fucking nightmare ya know that?” 

How long has Katsuki been in love with you? He actually can’t pinpoint it. In fact, he may only be realizing it now as the thought of you wobbling around pregnant with his kid fills his mind and makes him look like one of those sappy in love guys in the romance manga he reads. 

“So is that a yes?” 

He shoots you his signature “I’m bein’ serious” face and you laugh again, filling the room with your joy.

“Oh come on Katsuki. Look I promise, you won't have to do a thing after I get pregnant. I won't ask you for any help or child support or whatever. The kid doesn't even have to know you’re their real dad,” you say now looking serious as you explain.

That gives him pause. Are you saying this because you don’t want to be with him? He wouldn’t force himself in the kids life if he agreed to do this, not if you didn't want him around. That desperation in your eyes though. Why don’t you get it? If you asked him to catapult himself to the moon, he’d fucking do it. 

“I know you’re focused on getting to number one and you're super close and…Katsu I hope you know I would never do anything to get in the way of that but…my window is closing real soon. And I have the opportunity now and obviously I am painfully single right now so…”

Oh. You think he doesn’t want this. You think you’re burdening him. Damn…all this time he’s known you were clueless but for the love of shit you can’t be this clueless. Katsuki hasn’t had a date in…two years? Yeah that’s it. And in those two years he's spent almost every day with you, hangin’ out, goin’ on trips, watching movies, doing mundane life shit. Hell in his mind, the two of you are practically married already. 

But it’s clear you don’t think the same. Maybe you don’t see him that way? Which means… this entire thing could get real real messy. 

Katsuki squints, “You’re serious? Like you're sure you want this?” 

“I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this.” 

He knows that’s the truth. It’s all you ever talk about when you both talk about your goals and dreams. He wants to be number one and you wanna be a mom. But still the question remains, would you wanna be a mom to his kid? 

“And you’re sure you wanna do this…with me?” he asks again.

You shrug nonchalantly, “Why not? You’re my best friend. I trust you with my life. This is just as precious.” 

Goddamn you saying sentimental shit like that so nonchalantly. It’s like your fucking superpower. 

“Yeah but what if…shit gets weird after,” he stammers, raising an eyebrow. 

“Why would it get weird?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Cuz…yannow how weird it gets when two friends start fucking. Look at Sparky and Hanta. It’s been off since they hooked up last month at Mina’s party,” he explains, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Well I don’t know how you do it, but I wouldn’t consider you jacking it into my pussy would qualify as us ‘fucking’”, you say curling your nose up in judgement.

“I'm bein’ serious,” he retorts, bumping your forehead lightly with his palm.

“So am I! Look we’ve been through…so much shit together. My mom’s death, All Might’s death, the hero charts, breakdowns during the middle of the night while I try to get my degree, the very very bad break up with the one we do not speak about…none of that got the better of us so I don't see why this would either.”

Katsuki looks away from you now, Eyes dropping to the floor. He almost chokes when your tiny hand curls around his chin lightly and makes him look back at you. You’re wearing that expression again, the “you’re the only one in my universe” expression he’s seen you use as a weapon to bartenders to get you both free booze. 

But this time, there’s no tricks.  

This time, you mean it. 

“Hey, I mean it. You’re my best friend. I’m not gonna lose anyone else so if you’re completely against it, tell me and I’ll drop it right now,” you assert.

Katsuki sighs and plops a hand on top of your head, rubbing gently to make sure he doesn’t mess up your hair. 

“Gimme some time to think about it alright? It doesn't mean No. It means I gotta…prepare…I guess.”

Your smile returns, along with your irresistible ass dimples. “That’s totally fine! I won't start ovulating until next month anyway so take all the time you need!” you chirp. 

You both continue down the hallway, your apartments located toward the end of the hall. When you reach his door, you pause before heading a bit farther down the way to your place.

“Hey Katsu?” 

“What now?” Katsuki asks exasperated as he pulls out his key. 

When he turns to look at you, you’re staring at him with the big wide serious eye again. You look a little nervous, anxious as you twiddle your fingers in front of you. Geez, he’ll never get over how fucking pretty you are. 

“Thank you. Even if you refuse, thank you, for at least considering it,” you say bowing graciously to him.

His heart thumps in his chest but he shakes it off quickly and bumps your forehead again playfully. “Tsk, dumb ass. You act like I don’t always consider the crazy shit you come up with.” 

The playful jab soothes you again, and just like before the anxiety melts away into glee. 

“Crazy shit?!? Admit it, I make your life fun and exciting. If it weren't for me you’d be at home watching “How It’s Made” videos on Youtube,” you say sticking your tongue out at him as you brush past onward to your apartment.

“Fuck you! That shit is interesting I don't care what you say,” he calls after you as you laugh and skip away. 

 Katsuki watches your swaying hips as you go. He’s definitely got a lot of shit to think about tonight. 

Never have you ever found a ceiling more interesting than right now. 

Ok, it’s not all that interesting but you are surely going to act like it is. Refusing to look Katsuki in the eyes as you lie on your back in his dark ass bedroom, legs spread with the string of your underwear cutting into your plush soft waist is by far the only way to keep this entire situation from becoming more awkward than it already is. 

You suppose the best part of looking at the ceiling is that it’s not your own. You're at Katsuki’s apartment and of all the times you’ve been here, all the nights you’ve spent here you’ve never looked at his ceiling. Your mind wanders as the sound of fabric shifting idly becomes the background noise in your mind. 

“The ceiling that interestin’?” A gruff voice says from the end of the bed. 

God it’s like he’s in your head, which again shouldn’t be a surprise. There’s literally no other person in existence who knows the way your mind works better than Katsuki. He is your best friend after all. 

Your eyes shift to him and immediately you find it to be a mistake. He’s shirtless, the black sweatpants he wears are low on his hips and goddamn…have you really never noticed how tiny his waist is compared to his broad ass shoulders? And… has he always been like… that fit? 

No. Bad. Stop that. That is not where this is supposed to be going. This is a business deal between friends. Nothing more. 

In a desperate attempt to keep the mood humorous, you scoff. 

“Actually ceilings are really sexy so I’m trying to concentrate and get in the mood and you’re ruining it,” you reply, letting your eyes reluctantly fall away from him and return to the ceiling. 

You can practically hear the way he rolls his eyes, “Let’s just hurry and get this shit over with. Sooner we do it, sooner this stops being weird,” he huffs, moving closer to the edge of the bed. 

His anxious tone should make you feel bad but strangely, it’s comforting. It’s good to know you’re both feeling the same way. 

This is a big thing you’re asking of him, and you know he’s been on the fence about it since you asked. Honestly, you expected him to say no. But when he’d accepted a few days ago, you’d tried to ignore the way his reply of “When have I ever been able to say no to you,” made your stomach do flips. 

“Thanks again Katsu. For agreeing to this. I’ll probably spend the rest of my life paying you back for it,” you say gently, still avoiding looking at him. 

He huffs again, but you hear the hesitation, the hitch in his breath at your soft confession. He taps your knee and waits for you to give him your attention again. 

Again it’s a mistake, looking at him, because his expression is soft and tender it makes your lips part in a gasp. 

“Pay it back by bein’ a good mom to the kid,” he mutters quietly. 

The searing touch of his hand on your knee makes you swallow a lump in your throat. Something about Katsuki referring to you as a mom makes a bubble of emotion rush its way to your tear ducts but you bite back the sob with a smile. 

“I promise.”

“Alright, I’m comin’ to ya. Ya ready?” he asks and slowly you nod. 

With a low groan, Katsuki crawls on the bed between your legs, nudging them more apart so he can fit comfortably between them. With his body hovering over yours it makes this feel more real. 

You are about to do this. You are about to be impregnated by your best friend. 

Katsuki was nice enough to let you change into a shirt of his that’s way bigger on you than a regular shirt. It drapes down over your ass and covers your panties. But while lying on your back  with your legs spread and him between them you can’t help but feel more vulnerable than if you were wearing your own clothes. He’d said it would help you feel “less exposed” but in the back of your mind you wonder if he gets off on seeing girls in his shirt before he fucks them. 

That is another forbidden thought you shouldn’t have. You’re not like the other girls he fucks because he is not “fucking” you. He’s going to jack himself until he gets right to the cusp of orgasm and then insert himself to finish inside you. 

It’s hardly sex. More like… helpful masturbation at this point but still…him being inside you… that’s…something different. 

“Alright uhh… if you’re ready I’m gonna… take it out now,” he stammers nervously,as he stares into your eyes. 

Your eyes flick down to his groin and then back up to his eyes. Another desperate attempt to lighten the mood falls from your lips. 

“With your pants still on? Like this is a quickie?” you say in mock shock. 

Katsuki growls in frustration. His brows pull together and he pouts his lips.  

“I’m doin’ it for you! Plus I thought it’d be weird if I was butt ass naked jacking my dick over your fully clothed body so shut it!” 

You shake your head in defiance, “Hold on now! First of all, I’m not fully clothed. Second, I told you to do whatever you need to be the most comfortable. That’s why we’re at your place, Katsu. So if ya need to take our pants off, just take ‘em off for christ sake!” you glare back at him trying  not to smile. 

It’s your typical banter with him. He tries to make you comfortable. You yell at him and tell him to worry about himself. Nice to see you two can still fall back into the groove of friendship. Which is why you know after this, the two of you will be ok. 

“Fine! I’ll take em off then! But you gotta take your stupid panties off too. If it’s about my comfort, pullin’ em to the side is annoying as shit,” he yells, moving off the bed to slip his pants down his legs. 

You notice, he’s not wearing underwear and as you lift up to slip your own underwear down your thighs and ball them up to place next to your head, you avert your eyes from Katsuki’s –admittedly impressive–cock. 

When you both are back into position–you on your back with the shirt pulled over your but pussy out and Katsuki leaning back on his thighs with a pillow over his junk–you’re both breathing heavily. His skin is hot against yours as his thighs brush against your inner thigh. You stop the tremble that starts up your spine and try to focus on the ceiling again as Katsuki’s hand moves between his own legs.  

You hear him clear his throat, and say “I’m startin’ now,” and then inhale as his hand wraps around his cock. He closes his eyes, which you appreciate. It means you can look around if you want to and in a second of courage you take the chance to observe his technique. 

Ok so yeah… Katsuki is fucking hung. Not a fact you thought you’d ever know about him. It’s not like the two of you don’t swap sex stories but he’s never gone into detail. He’s hot, you know that and so does he, but you never thought his dick could be another reason why it’s so easy for him to get laid when he wants. 

His waist is enviable and his abs ripple down his torso. He’s got a happy trail of brown hair that gradually grows into a bush of blond coily hair. With his eyes closed you’re also able to get a good look at his dick. Katsuki’s got massive hands and it still looks like he’s having trouble getting his entire palm around the girth of it. It makes your mouth water–although it shouldn’t. 

And naughtily you believe his may be the thickest cock you’ve ever taken.  

“Uhh…” he pauses, his eyes are open and yours quickly flit away from his cock and up to his eyes. He looks worried which is good because it means he didn’t catch you looking at him. 

“What?” you ask breathlessly. 

He raises an eyebrow and then both brows furrow again and the hand that’s not on his cock drums against his thigh nervously. “You’re breathing is all weird and shit, you—“ 

“Just hurry up and jack it Katsuki,” you interrupt, wanting to divert the attention away from your dumb ass horny inappropriate thoughts about your best friend. 

He smirks as if he knows what you’re doing but only jokes and says “Heh, never thought I'd hear that said to me before.”

“Oh my god, would you just–” You don’t finish because he tips a bit off balance while he’s sitting back on his knees and balancing on his thighs and feet. When he rocks off balance, he grabs your thigh to steady himself and the action makes you gasp in delight. 

The moan that would come after is thankfully trapped in your throat by a wall of disintegrating control. As if he didn’t hear it at all, Katsuki steadies himself, mutters an apology and gets back to it. 

As his hand moves slowly up and down his shaft, you notice it stays a bit boneless in his palm. His eyes are closed again, his face is craned up to the ceiling and his body is shaking as he furiously keeps stroking to get himself there. After about three minutes you cover your eyes and grab his wrist to stop him. 

“Are you…like…okay?” you ask, shielding your eyes to respect his privacy. 

Katsuki groans, “It's harder than it looks!” he spits in annoyance. 

In an attempt to quickly soothe him you put both hands up in surrender and forget the reason you were shielding your eyes in the first place . 

“Hey I’m not saying it’s not! I get it alright I just…” your words trickle off as you stare at him again, propped up on your elbows. 

This time he doesn’t cover himself which is odd. And what’s even odder is you don’t shield your eyes again. He’s got that “I’ve got an idea” look but it’s paired with a guilt only you’re able to recognize. 

“Do you want me to help?” you ask in a whisper. 

Katsuki’s eyes widen, his cheeks blush red and you can tell for a split second he contemplates saying yes before he sputters out  “…No! I don't need any damn help.” 

You smirk, “You hesitated.” 

He shakes his head roughly, the spiky hair on top of his head shaking like leaves on a tree caught in a storm. “No no just shut the fuck up and let me focus. And cover your eyes back up.” 

“I could…take the shirt off or something if that will help?” you suggest. 

This time he does visibly hesitate and think about your suggestion. He probably thinks since you brought it up, it’s more acceptable to agree. 

Plus…you know your strengths and your rack is definitely one of them.  

Finally he relents, “…fine.” 

The shirt is off and over your head in seconds, leaving you Winnie the Pooh-ing it in a black bra.. He looks away, trying not to look at your pussy but you notice the quick glances and the way his dick twitches at the sight even more. This time, you cover your eyes, electing to give Katsuki a chance to look at you and get himself going.

As it turns out, not being able to see him but being able to hear him proves to be even more sexually stimulating. Katsuki’s hand sounds wetter now, making lewd noises as his hand rubs up and down his dick. His breathing is different too, it’s heavier, littered with more sharp inhales and hissing. You even think you hear him mutter to himself. 

You lick your lips, is the difference just because he can see your tits now? Or maybe he’s not even looking at your tits. You are pussy out right now. Maybe he’s looking at your cunt. Maybe he’s fantasizing about when he will get to put it i–

“Look I uhh… I hate ta ask but can I uhh…” his voice pulls you out of the spiral of thoughts plaguing you. 

You peek at him through a sliver between your fingers, “Can you what?” you inquire.

“Can I touch you?” he asks quietly, the blush spreading over his cheeks again. 

You’re a little confused. Why wouldn’t he touch you? How does he expect to like… do the whole “impregnate” thing without touching you. You’re sure you already gave him the consent. But as you watch him nibble on the dead skin of his bottom lip and his eyes flit to the sheets and sneak glances at your tits, you understand what he means. 

“Oh! Ohhh. Umm yeah…yeah whatever helps,” you say brightly, trying to encourage him you’re ok with it. 

“I'll stop as soon as you say,” he relents. 

“Ok.” 

His hand hovers nervously over your tit, he flexes his fingers as he readies himself. You become hyper aware of your budding nipples in the chilly air of the apartment. They poke through the fabric of your bra and you’ll admit you want him to just get it over with and grab it already. 

When he does, his hand is so warm it shocks you and you intake a sharp inhale. Immediately, he tears his hand away

“What?! What did I hurt ya or—“ His eyes are wide and he almost leaps off the bed in worry. 

You shake your head, “No no! I just…nothing, it's fine. Just keep going,”you assure him. 

How the hell do you tell him it felt way too good for your best friend to grab your tits? You won’t. That’s a dirty little secret you’ll keep to yourself. But when he goes to grab them both and massages them deeply you realize your body might be more of a tell than you thought. 

There’s a moan yo-yoing in your throat. A fierce visceral moan that begs to be released, especially when Katsuki hums and starts to stroke himself again. Setting a nice pace of grinding his fingers into the plump flesh of your tits, flicking your nipple to elicit light gasps from you, and stroking his now noticeably pre-glistened cock, you try your best not to let a peep come from you. 

The last thing he needs is to feel even more awkward after having to ask to touch your boobs for help in getting it up. It worked though. He’s definitely up. And damn… was it always that mouth watering to look at when you first saw it? 

No…mouth-watering is not the best word to describe your best friend’s cock if you’re trying to avoid catching any complicated feelings. Which you are so you whisper a silent scold to your brain to get it together. 

Katsuki’s hands on you make it so very difficult to keep up this ruse of not being completely and totally turned on. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth and your fingers are digging into the mattress at your sides. 

You think he’s caught on to your act when he stops again.  

“Alright what’s the deal? What's with the face and the noises?” he growls. 

You shake your head, “Just keep going! It's fine!” 

To your dismay he doesn’t budge, “It don't look fine ta me!”

God, why can’t he just take the hint and keep going! 

“I'm just trying not to make this all awkward ok?!?

“It’s already awkward!” he insists.

“Yeah well I'm trying not to make it even more awkward! Like you're doing now! Maybe that should be your quirk, the ability to make something awkward even more awkward.” 

“Shut up! Look you can't not tell me what's going on with ya. You need ta talk to me if we’re doin’ this. I can't tell if you’re uncomfortable or whatever if you don't say someth—

You can’t believe this is happening right now.  Katsuki is literally sitting with his dick out arguing with you. God do you really have to say it to him? 

“I'm not uncomfortable! I'm just trying not to moan Katsuki!” you shout at him, blowing an exasperated and embarrassed sigh that makes your lips push out in defeat.

He blinks and jolts back as if surprised. “What?” 

Defeated and now basking in the pure shame and guilt of the moment you groan, “You’re standing over me jacking your dick and fondling my tits! It’s…erotic. And this is not supposed to be an erotic encounter so for the love of pete just keep going so we can get this ov–” 

“Don’t…don’t be silent…” he says now with an expression that is dangerous. Very very dangerous because that is not the way you’d look at your best friend you’re only trying to impregnate as a favor. He’s looking at you like… like he wants you. 

Now it’s your turn to blink in confusion. “What?” 

Katsuki huffs, this entire ordeal finally getting to him, “Look you want me to fucking jack it, right? Listening to moans helps so…ya don't gotta be quiet.” 

He reaches out and lets a finger trace your nipple and you arch up into his touch and let out a breathless sigh that sounds like…heaven. He nods, muttering a sexy “mm hmm that’s it” to himself as your back straightens again. 

Oh fuck this is so much easier when you have the ok to let loose. When he touches you now all the hesitation is gone, between your legs slick dribbles from your cunt and as Katsuki’s pace on his cock quickens, your moans get louder.  

You don’t even have to tell him he can touch your bare chest, he just shuffles one of your straps down to expose your tit and palms it as he moans.  

“My hand cold?” He asks when you jolt at his touch.

“N…no…it’s…so warm…” you pant. 

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from begging him not to stop. Not only are his hands warm, they’re surprisingly soft. A bit calloused from the hero work but soft as he handles your tits with care. 

He smirks, “Good.” 

Your sounds of pleasure fill the room now, mixed with the lewd wet noises of Katsuki’s hand on his cock, you’re sure it probably sound like you two actually are fucking. Especially when he leans over to gently blow on your nipple. The tip of his tongue flicks it for just a second, only giving himself a tiny sample of you without taking it too far. 

He knows you like it because your moans become gentle coaxes of his name, “Mmm…ah…I…umm Katsu…I Uhh…” 

His name tumbling from your lips seems to be the catalyst for release because his breath hitches again and he finally announces, “I’m getting close…I’m getting close I—I should put it in now.” 

He’s leaking from the tip of his cock and he has the goddamn nerve to rub the head through your folds and tap your clit before he lines himself up. He’s gotten too comfortable or maybe...he’s a little lost in the sauce right now. When you glance up to look at him, his eyes are already on you. 

In fact his stare is hot, piercing as he locks eyes with you. Your lips part again and he bites his own. Is it insane to think about kissing him right now? 

Slowly he enters you, pushing past that first ring of muscle in your pussy and fucking hell you were right about him being the thickest you’ve ever had. You feel yourself open up and part around him as he slides in. You’re so full you swear you can feel him in your stomach and it’s absolutely slutty of you to arch your back and dip your hips forward so he’s embedded even deeper. 

The best part though is watching him as he presses his hips forward. He throws his head back and groans loudly. And the sigh of pure contentment and pleasure that bubbles in his chest is to die for. It’s like…he’s been waiting years to feel this, instead of the frenzied horny dazed minutes of him fucking his own fist.

“Holy shit you’re tight. How come you feel so…oh fuck…” he moans wantonly, his question caught in his throat. His gravelly tone is littered with soft desperate little whimpers you're sure have never breached his lips before. 

Your legs are shaking. 

Unbelievable. 

He’s only just bottomed out, hasn’t moved an inch and your legs are fucking shaking. Every sensitive little nerve in your pussy is firing off messages of pleasure and ecstasy and completely tuned into the cock stuffed inside you right now. 

How can he feel this good? Is it just because of the meds that trigger your ovulation making you more sensitive? Somehow you don’t think that’s the case. There’s electricity shooting up all your limbs as Katsuki’s hands settle on the sides of your waist. Your lips tingle and you truly believe the only way to stop it is to have his lips on yours. He shifts a bit, leaning over you and trying to angle himself in a way that has your head spinning and your eyes fluttering like a slot machine. 

The tip of his cock brushes lightly against your cervix as if giving it a tiny gentle kiss as a warning for the load he will give you. The thought makes all your limbs tighten, makes a knot in your belly constrict and then snap loose as you clench around him and tumble off a cliff and into pure ecstasy. 

Your fingers dig into the sheets at your side, and like lightning he grabs your wrist and pulls them up above your head, intertwining his finger with yours. His body completely covers yours now as his breath washes over your face. He’s staring at you, watching your eyes flutter with a goofy grin and then…

“Oh…oh fuck Katsu—“ 

His lips crash into yours as you speak, his tongue invades, licking and twirling around yours as you hungrily taste him. The tingling in your lips only subsides when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles. You find your legs wrapping around his waist, his tiny enviable waist you’d admired only a few minutes ago, and nudge him forward with the heel of your foot. 

“Squeezin’ that tight I’m gonna fucking cu–” again he stops himself midsentence as his hips grind into you. He can’t bear to pull out to pound into you, obsessed with the way you’re wrapped around him. So he grinds against the soft warm walls of your cunt, letting you massage his cock before he cums with a roar followed by whispered sweet words in your ear. 

The only thing keeping you from passing out right now, is the occasional twitching of his cock as he fills you. It almost feels unstoppable, he’s growling, whimpering, moaning and mumbling like a drunk man as he kisses your shoulder and as you come down now from your orgasm you wrap your arms around his back and card your fingers through the undercut at the base of his neck. 

The two of you stay that way, wrapped up in each other for what seems like forever before he pulls back to look at you with an expression that makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. 

He’s smirking, giddy like a boy who’s just seen a titty for the first time. He doesn’t even have to say anything for you to know what he’s thinking. 

“Stop it,” you pout with pursed lips and a raised eyebrow. 

Katsuki chuckles, the mischievous proud grin only growing wider. “Stop what?” he tries to ask innocently. 

You try to push him away a bit, putting your palms on his chest but of course he doesn’t budge. 

“Stop giving me the ‘I just made you cum’ face,” you retort. 

The grin widens even further, if you can believe it. 

He chuckles, “But I did, didn't I? And based on the way you're still shakin’ I’d bet I was a pretty good one.” Unbelievably he nuzzles his nose against your cheek. 

“Yeah well I made you cum too and you don't see me smirking.” 

“Maybe ya should.” 

“We should not be having this conversation while your dick is still in me twitching so just shut up and wait a few minutes before you pull out,” you grumble. 

In a slightly uncomfortable but tender moment, Katsuki lies his head on your chest and listens to your heart. He traces a series of moles down the valley of your cleavage absently. 

Your face heats and he laughs again. “So much for it not being weird,” you sigh. 

“Knew it would be,” he mutters.

“And you still agreed?” 

“Puffs, if you thought I was gonna pump a baby in ya and then leave ya to raise it without me, then maybe I should think about gettin’ a new best friend cuz my best friend woulda known I could never do some shit like that. Eijiro is in the running for your spot. He knew,” he explains.

That shouldn't make you emotional, deep down you knew he wouldn’t just abandon you. Especially if the kid is his but–

“But what about Number One and–” 

“Can’t I do both? You’re the one who made it an either or thing,” he says shrugging. 

“But do you even…like me…like that?” you ask, blushing again. Ridiculous, you sound like a middle schooler or something. 

“My dick is literally still in you right now and I just told you I’d raise a kid with you. How many other ways do I need to say it, idiot?” He replies incredulously. 

“I mean… An ‘I like you and wanna date you’ wouldn’t hurt,” you say sheepishly. 

Katsuki groans, “For the love of…” and then he takes your face between his fingers and makes you look into his eyes and replies,

 “I like you and I wanna start a damn family with you. There. That good enough?”

---

dividers: @/cafekitsune, @/strangergraphics

[animequeen122]

both our firsts

wc: 1.8k content warning: established relationship, smut, first time (both virgins !), tsukishima x reader, not proofread

ઉ⠀⠀𓂂 ׄ

“Kei..” you whispered, slightly shifting your head back to glance at him.

In a cuddling position with your boyfriend under the cozy blanket. His arms are tightly wrapped around your torso, inching up towards your clothed breasts. His nose just barely grazing the crook of your warm neck, half lidded golden eyes staring at the lit up device in your hands.

“Hmm?” a low voice vibrating along your smooth skin, lips delicately pressed against your bare shoulder.

Pressing his crotch closer to your ass, increasing in size and hardness under your embrace. His large hands cup your soft breasts, fondling them inbetween the thin fabric of your tank top. Biting down on your lower lip in arousal, your hips start grinding down upon the bulge that laid inbetween your two searing bodies.

“Have you done it before?” breaking the intimate silence with his husky voice resonating in your ear.

“No.. have you?” you murmured under your breath, shutting your phone off to focus your attention on your boyfriend.

Putting your phone to the side before shuffling in bed to face his flustered complexion. Arms around his neck as you get lost in his honey gold eyes, his hand on your waist moving lower to grope your ass, pulling your leg onto his hip whilst rubbing your thigh up and down soothingly. 

“I haven’t,” Tsukishima purred, caressing your cheek with his soft touch.

Pulling him in by his collar, you share a passionate kiss just about under the covers. Gradually his hands grasp you onto him, breasts pressed against his chest for his eyes to leer on, your heat emitting core rubbing against his bulge covered by articles of clothing. 

Your lips crashed onto his, just playfully pecking the outskirts of his soft mouth. Rimming the fine line with his tongue, urging you to part your mouth for him. Accepting to his advances and just slightly opening your mouth for his tongue to enter. Your tongues crash and sway together at a consistent pleasurable pace. 

His fingers move quickly, slipping under your shorts, barely making it to your panties from under your restricting article of clothing. Fingers pressing against your damp underwear making you flinch to a sudden halt.

“...Wanna do it?” Tsukishima purs from under you, face flushed from the intensive kissing, completely out of breath the moment you parted lips.

“Yeah,” sitting on his lower stomach, your fingers move up from the hem of his shirt, revealing his toned stone body for your desires to linger further. Wasn’t your first time seeing him half naked, but either way you still gawk at his delicious figure. 

His half lidded eyes gaze at you while you scan his stature from beneath. Raising his hands from your waist to grasp onto your breasts, thumb rubbing over your sensitive nipples that perked out from your tank top. Gasping out a subtle reaction to the stimulation he creates with your nipples, grinding your clothed crotch onto his erection while you both surpressed your groans. 

Hands working down lower to hold onto the bottom of your tank top, helping you take off your top, eyes focusing on the little bounce produced when it’s dropped off somewhere into the abyss of your room. 

Sitting up till his back hits the bed frame, hands pulling you closer by your ass, parting his mouth as he raised his head to lick your rosy nipples while you continue to rock your hips onto his.

“You’re so hard Kei,” hiding a smirk under your breath watching his eyebrows furrow while you felt yourself rapidly wetten on top of him.

“Should I just slip it in?” he smuggly chuckled before tracing a finger down your stomach, tickling your skin as he reached lower into your shorts.

Two fingers sliding down into your panties, stopping at your slit that emitted slick from within as he parted your wet folds with his fingertips. Coming in contact with your clit, just simply stroking it with the tip of his finger that had you wanting to rub your legs together despite hovering right above him.

The more he massaged your cunt with his gentle touch, the more stimulation he created, flooding you with pleasure. You’re holding onto his shoulder while you compress yourself in an attempt to not lose your cool in front of him as you bite down on your lower lip. 

Instead of rocking your hips on his painfully hard erection, you’re rubbing your pussy on his fingers while he watched with pride. Fingers creeping up and inserted into your gummy entrance, you let out a groan of satisfaction.

“Fuck so tight..” he breathed out, eyebrows furrowed as you make eye contact with him. Your fingers never felt as good as his whenever you masturbated to the pure thought of him, but woah his fingers that curled and scissored inside you made you whimper in delight.

“Does that feel good?” his breath tickling the surface of your stomach, pressing gentle kisses up towards your breasts.

“Yeah..!–” yelping when he took over and pressed your back against the fluffy blanket, fingers removing themselves from you to take off your shorts and undergarments. 

“S’kinda in the way,” flinging your shorts and undies somewhere on the floor before using his large hands to part your legs wide open for him to gaze upon as you tried to keep your legs together.

Sliding his hands down your inner thighs to soothe your shaking legs as Tsukishima lowered himself. Tsukishima’s hot muscle making contact with your slightly swollen clit, moving in circles while you held in your moans. 

While his tongue was busy bringing you to the brink of satisfied tears, Tsukishima’s inserting his fingers back into your gaping entrance to fill you back up, immediately moving at a faster rate than before.

Dazed from all the stimulation that pulses through your entire being, eyes starting to daze into a shut as it almost became numbing. His tongue working on pleasuring your throbbing red clit while his fingers worked endlessesly pumping out your juices before taking them out.

“You okay?” inches above your groggly face, checking in on your condition while you came back to your consciousness.

“Just feel so.. good,” placing your arm around his shoulder, the other reaching down to feel the hardness of his growing bulge as he swallowed hard upon encountering your touch, a suggestive smile lingering on your lips.

“You want it that bad?” he said confidently, hiding the fact that he’s inexperienced, the fact that you’re his first and that he’s yours.

“Be my first,” bringing both arms in to hug him, the solid rock laying inbetween your hot bodies.

Falling out each others arms, Tsukishima slides off his remaining articles of clothing leaving him bare and exposed. His cock dripped with precum as it stood tall in all its glory, staring back at you with a fiery pink tip.

Tilting yourself up a bit and onto your elbows. You continued to restrain yourself from keeping your legs closed while you watched him dip the tip of his cock into your wet folds, collecting all the left over juices that coated your sopping cunt before lining himself up.

“Are you sure.. y’know, about this? It might hurt,” looking up from the intimact act to see your quivering eyes filled with anxiousness.

He was right, it hurt. A lot. His girth was no match for your pussy, even upon just the slightest entrance. It was as if he were to pass a sword through you, stretching you out with his pointy tip that felt like it was tearing you in half. 

Taking it slow, Tsukishima grunts like he’s the one in pain. Your plush walls tightened around his cock the more he continued to shove his massive girth into you, almost felt like he was gonna get snapped in half inside.

“Wait– it hurts..” clawing into his muscular shoulder as he comes to a halt, letting you adjust to the shape of his cock.

Slowly, your pussy took the shape of his length, molding it into his own personal cunt. Toughing it out together while you breathed out for air. When he managed to bury his cock deep inside you, he’s praising you for your efforts of bearing the troubles of him.

“Does it hurt a lot? I’m sorry.. You did good babe,” kissing the tears off of your cheeks that flowed down earlier.

“Yeah.. but I want you to keep going,” caressing his cheek with your thumb.

“Okay, let me know when to stop or if it hurts. I’ll go slower,” laying a peck on your warm cheek before starting to grind his hips into yours.

Groaning in pain as he slowly continues to drill into you with concern, you can’t help but be impatient waiting for the pleasure to finally wash over the feeling of being cut into two with his own sword.

“Keep going..” you sobbed, eyes continuing to glaze with tears as he continues to stuff you with his length that scratched your walls like a fork on a dry chalk board.

The pain subsided to a numbing sensation before the contentness you started to feel filling you up. Stimulating your nether regions, though still moving in slow and sensational strokes. Watching his cock slide in and out, getting reapplied in your soaking juices with each gradual thrust.

“Does it still hurt?” honey eyes focusing on your facial expressions that continued to twist and contort while you whimpered.

“No.. well I don’t think–” yelping out a loud moan when he found and hit one of your core stimulating areas.

“..feels good!” you exclaimed, arching your back inches off of the plush mattress.

A bit of a smirk crept up his face, starting to pick up his pace, his hips starting to click more with yours. Repeatedly, his tip started to prod into your sensitive regions, over and over again until you reached your high and saw static completely take over your vision.

Legs trembling as you continued to let him pound into you till he reached his climax. His soft delicate thrusts turned into quick and rough ones the more you called out for his name. His hot rod continuing to impale you before instantly whipping it out the moment he felt like he was about to burst inside you. 

His fiery red angry head spurting out his warm milky goop on your stomach as his low voice groaned with satisfaction. Squinting eyes behind his thick lenses observing his gooey mixture drip down your abdomen to the side from out of his cock. 

His large hand stroking over it to completely empty his load over your bare body, coating you in what he had in store. Your torso glistened with his murky white cum, chest heaving out pants of exhausation while you subtly smile in contentness before his heavy body just barely fell on top of yours.

“..Did you feel good?” lifting his head up to peer at you, his fingers moving the strands of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ears. “Mhm..” you grumble out, too tired for a full response.

masterlist here

[animequeen122]

all i ever asked (nsfw!)

roronoa zoro x fem!reader - wc: 3.4k

cw: piv sex, creampie assumed, pre-established relationship, ur both kinda in love with each other idk. an: 🍷 cheers to another vanilla ass zoro fic because sry that's all i want right now lol 🍷

Contrary to what one might assume, Zoro is no stranger to matters of the heart. Beneath his tough exterior lies a tender heart that beats just as wanting as anyone’s. Though he may be quiet about love, he expresses it with an honesty that is unmistakably his own.

Whether it’s for a quiet nap or a spontaneous cuddle, his favorite place for you to be is safely wrapped in his arms, where the world fades away and only the warmth between you matters. There’s a comfort in your closeness, a silent reassurance in how he holds you.

Tonight, you find yourself resting against his broad chest in the crow’s nest. The quiet of the sea stretches out around you, and the world below feels distant. You often join him on sleepless nights, the calm of his presence a comfort when the silence becomes too overwhelming. So much so, that he’s started bringing a blanket with him on his watch, knowing you’ll be there.

It’s become a routine—him keeping watch, you keeping him company—and in these moments, with calm embrace of safety and the endless starry sky above, everything feels just right.

One of his thick arms is wrapped around your middle, and the two of you sit in quiet companionship, the calm broken only by the distant crash of the sea against the hull or the occasional rustle of the sails in the wind.

In moments like this, the stillness invites reflection, whether you seek it or not. Your fingers trace absentmindedly over the roughened skin of his arm, skimming over the scars that tell stories of battles fought and survived. You glance down at the limb resting across you, and despite the soft, silvery light of the night, you can’t quite shake the frown that tugs at your expression.

How many times has he come close to death in the time you’ve known him? Each fight leaves him battered and bloodied, but never truly defeated. Memories of sitting beside him in the infirmary, waiting for him to wake, flood your mind. What happens if the next time, he doesn’t?

It’s a fleeting thought, perhaps foolish. Zoro could walk through a storm of steel without flinching. His body, a testament to countless trials, has borne worse. The very idea of him not waking up feels almost absurd, as though the world itself would have to bend to defeat him.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as your fingers curl around his wrist, grounding you in the present moment.

"You know," you whisper, the sounds are barely more than a breath, but heavy with meaning, "you're not allowed to die on me."

A low, rumbling chuckle escapes Zoro as he shifts slightly, "Wasn’t plannin' on it,” he replies casually with a flicker of amusement across his features. 

You pause for a moment, then meet his teasing tone with one that’s a little more serious. "I mean it, Zoro."

He adjusts his grip on you, gently pulling you around to face him, his hands steady on your waist as his gaze meets yours. His tone remains light, but there's an undercurrent of curiosity. "What’s got you thinkin’ about it?"

"Just... we don’t exactly lead the safest lives, do we?" you sigh softly, your expression showing some genuine touble, resting your head against his chest. You let the silence hang for a beat before lifting your head slightly, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "And you dying would ruin a lot of my plans, you know."

"Oh yeah?" Zoro hums, his grin evident even in his tone. "You’ve got plans, huh? What kind of plans need me around to work?"

"A lot of them," you reply with a playful glint in your eye, twisting around in his lap to face him. "I guess I’ve come to rely on you more than I thought, after everything we’ve been through."

Zoro's halfened gaze eases down upon you. A small, lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his lips—one that’s rare, but undeniable. He doesn’t speak right away, but the silence is filled with a weight that speaks volumes. Truth be told, a lot of his future plans revolve around you, too.

In a world where Luffy is Pirate King and Zoro is the world’s greatest swordsman, the idea of something simpler feels surprisingly appealing. He never expected to cradle love in his arms, yet here he is, feeling the call to arms in his heart—not for battle, but to keep you safe. With you by his side, the idea of settling down doesn’t seem so impossible. In this world, he'd give you everything, ensuring you never have to worry, even if he's still figuring out how. Your safety has become the one thing that matters more than any fight.

There’s a warmth in his chest that blossoms only with you, a quiet but steady heat that spreads every time you’re near. As you look into his face, your eyes wide with concern, it flares again—stronger this time, almost as if his heart beats in time with yours.

“Look,” he says, the emphasis in his tone softer now, as one calloused hand gently comes to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a reassuring motion. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. I promise you that.”

A promise. One that doesn’t come from him lightly, but when it does, you know he means it. In a world where words are often guarded, this one feels like the most precious thing he could give. You don’t need to ask again.

You smile, your hand coming up to gently cup the one resting on your face, your fingers tracing the familiar warmth of his skin. “Good,” you say softly, a teasing edge to your tone. “Cause I’ll never forgive you if you do.”

Zoro laughs, the sound a low rumble in his chest, pulling you closer until his chest presses against yours, the blanket settling around both of you. “If I’m dead, how would you even know if I’ve pissed you off?” he teases,.

A sly smile curves at the edges of your lips as you raise a brow, a glint of mischief dancing in your eyes. "Oh, you’ll know," you say, sounding playful but with something warmer softening the words. "I’ll figure out some way to make you know from your safety beyond the grave."

The laughter slowly fades, leaving a quiet stillness to settle around you both. Zoro’s expressions turns thoughtful as he watches you, his eye tracing the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the rhythm of your breath as it flows steadily in time with his own. He takes in the peacefulness of the moment, the way you’re nestled against him, and a quiet warmth stirs within him—a soft, unspoken sense of peace that spreads slowly through his chest.

A warmth unfurls within him as he reflects on how deeply he needs you, the way your presence grounds him amid the turmoil. You’re not just his partner; you're the anchor that holds him steady in the storm. In the chaos of battle and the endless path ahead, it would be easy for him to lose his way. 

"Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft but sincere, "I don’t say it often, but... you really do make everything a lot easier. I don’t know where I’d be without you."

It's rare for him to let down his guard like this, to show you that side of himself. The vulnerability he shares feels like a gift, one you hold close. It’s a part of him that’s raw and real, and in that moment, it makes everything between you feel deeper, more significant.

You smile softly, your fingers lacing with his as you rest your head against his chest. "I’m just glad I can make it easier for you," you murmur, "There’s no one else I’d want to face all of this with."

Zoro’s heart skips a beat, a warmth blossoming in his chest and spreading like a quiet, steady flame. He doesn’t need to put it into words; you’ve long understood that his actions speak far louder than anything he could say. 

He holds you close, and the quiet intensity in his gaze conveys everything you need to know. In that moment, it’s clear—you’re not just his partner; you’re his anchor, his refuge in a world that’s often unforgiving.

"You’re something else, you know that?" His voice is softer than usual, carrying an unexpected vulnerability that only you seem to draw out. His focus lingers on yours, filled with an affection so deep it almost feels tangible.

Zoro’s gaze lingers on you for a moment, a quiet intensity in his eye as if he’s weighing something unspoken. Slowly, his hand rises to your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. It’s a tender gesture, simple yet filled with meaning, conveying everything he struggles to say. 

Then, without a word, he closes the distance between you, his lips finding yours in a kiss that is slow, deep, and full of all the emotions he’s kept hidden—unspoken, yet understood.

It’s soft at first—a gentle press of lips that quickly ignites into something deeper, more urgent. Zoro’s hands roam with purpose, one tangled in your hair, pulling you close, the other gripping your hip, steady and possessive. His mouth moves over yours with growing intensity, each kiss a silent confession of longing and desire as he holds you firmly against him.

You melt into him, the embrace wrapping you in the warmth of everything you’ve ever felt for him—the love, the yearning, the certainty that this is where you’re meant to be. Time seems to slow, and all the doubts, the fears, fade away in the quiet comfort of his embrace.

Every stolen glance, every quiet moment shared between you, rushes through your mind, deepening the bond between you. The world around you disappears, leaving only the undeniable truth that you belong here, in his arms, with him—and nothing else matters.

Lost in the heat of the moment, your legs wrap around Zoro's waist, pulling him closer as your bodies align from chest to pelvis. The hard, throbbing evidence of his desire presses insistently against your core through the thin fabric separating you, sending jolts of excitement up your spine. Soft gasps and breathy moans escape you both and with each deliberate grind of your hips, the friction stokes the flames of passion.

Zoro's hand slips beneath your shirt, calloused fingers tracing slowly up the contours of your spine, leaving a tingling path in their wake as they travel higher. You lean into his touch, craving more of his intimate caresses. The heat building between you feels like it might consume you both.

His other hand grips your thigh, hitching your leg higher around his waist. The new angle allows him to press even closer, the hard length of him grinding against your most sensitive spot. A gasp escapes you at the intense pleasure, your body beginning to twitch in need.

He pulls back from the kiss, his lips still tingling from the connection, as he looks down at you with a soft expression in his good eye. A pleased daze lingers there, as if he's trying to process what just happened. "Why can’t I ever get enough of you?" he murmurs, his voice rough and tinged with longing, the question more of a quiet wonder than anything else.

It’s as if he can’t quite grasp how, after all this time, you still manage to stir this feeling in him. He’s grown used to it, yet still, he’s unable—and unwilling—to let go. With you, everything feels new, as though each touch, every shared breath, and every heated moment is a discovery all over again. It’s intoxicating, addicting, and he no longer feels the need to question it.

He just wants you, and he thinks he always will.

Coarse hands move over you with a sense of familiarity, tracing the curves he’s grown so accustomed to, yet there’s always a hint of wonder in how he handles you. It’s possessive, in a way, as though he wants to leave a part of himself with you in every lingering caress.

“Zoro...” Your voice is soft, almost a whisper against his lips, heavy with desire yet tinged with a slight hesitation. “Are you sure this is the right time? We're on watch..."

Zoro chuckles, low and dark, his lips brushing against yours with each word. "Not like anyone's gonna catch us up here." His hand slides up your thigh, fingers digging into your hip as he grinds against you, his hard length pressing insistently against your core. "Besides, I don't think I can wait any longer."

His hand slips under your shirt, calloused fingers trailing over the smooth skin of your stomach. Leaning in, he begins kissing and licking his way down to nip at your pulse. "I need you," he growls. "Right here, right now."

You twist into Zoro's ministrations, a giggle slipping past your parted lips as his fingers trace tantalizing patterns along the waistband of your shorts. "Always getting what you want, huh?" you tease, your hands cradling his face tenderly, a playful grin tugging at your mouth despite the flush of arousal currently painting your cheeks.

His smirk matches yours as his hand boldly slips past your shorts, gripping your ass before venturing further. "Damn, you're absolutely drenched," he groans, fingers gliding effortlessly through your slick folds. "You're always so fucking wet, just for me."

You buck your hips instinctively against his hand, a breathy moan falling from your lips as his fingers dance along your clit. "Always," you answer, your voice small and rasp with need.

Zoro's eye darkens at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Shit, babe," he purrs, his fingers circling your clit before dipping lower, teasing your entrance. "You need me to make you feel good?"

You nod eagerly, but before you can expel your desperate plea for more, Zoro claims your mouth in another searing kiss. His tongue plunders yours as he slowly sinks two fingers into your dripping core. A broken moan escapes you, a needy sound that conveys your overwhelming desire for him—his touch, his cock, but above all, his love.

Zoro's hands quickly work to free his throbbing erection, the thick shaft coming to rest insistently against your belly. With a swift motion, you part from him and sit up just enough to shift your shorts and panties aside, baring your core to him. Immediately, his hands return to your hips, greedily pulling you back until the swollen head of his length nudges your entrance, ready to take you fully.

Zoro groans deeply as your velvety walls envelop him, the exquisite tightness making his hips twitch with the effort to hold back. He exhales against your lips before easing you down onto his throbbing length with agonizing slowness, allowing you to adjust to every thick inch stretching you open, and when he's finally buried to the hilt inside your welcoming heat, he pauses, savoring the feeling of just being with you this in way.

His forehead falls to rest against yours as he takes a deep, shuddering breath, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. "You okay?" he asks, concern in his voice despite it being thick with barely contained desire.

"I'm perfect," you reassure him softly, your arms tightening around his shoulders as you melt into him. "Promise."

Zoro smiles, his face filled with gentle adoration as he gazes at you in a half-lidded, loving daze. Harmoniously you both begin to move, Zoro's strong hands guiding your hips, helping you find a slow, sensual rhythm. Each roll of your bodies brings a new wave of pleasure, your slick heat gripping him like a velvet glove. 

In the union of your bodies, time seems to stand still. Each gentle thrust and sensual grind is a proof of the profound connection you share, a silent affirmation of the love that binds you. Zoro's soft touches and hushed praises fill the air, his actions speaking volumes of the reverence he holds for you.

The slow rhythm continues, each thrust bringing you closer to the pinnacle of pleasure. Zoro's movements gradually become more urgent and more primal. He pants into your neck, groaning and exhaling as his effort against your slick walls intensifies, driving you wild with desire. The haze of bliss leaves you dizzy, and you surrender yourself completely to him.

With a sudden shift, Zoro leans forward, his muscular arms encircling your waist as he takes control of the tempo to effortlessly bounce you on his cock. His deep thrusts send waves of pleasure surging through your core, your body instinctively pressing against him.

The way he possesses you is both thrilling and overwhelming. Each deep buck of his hips sends you spiraling, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. Zoro's grip on your waist tightens, holding you steady as he drives into you with increasing fervor, his hips slapping against yours in a quick rhythm.

As the maelstrom of pleasure builds, you can only cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you surrender yourself completely to ecstasy. He’s rutting against that secret spot deep within you now, sending shockwaves of white-hot, rhythmic tingles to radiate through your entire being. 

The relentless stimulation is driving you to the brink of madness, your mind clouded with nothing but the overwhelming ardor left to consume you. Your cries of ecstasy mingle with Zoro's name as the pressure builds to an unbearable crescendo. 

Stars burst behind your eyelids as he pounds into you relentlessly, his hips moving like a well-oiled machine. Just as you teeter on the brink of oblivion, Zoro squeezes you tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he's afraid to let go. With a few final, intense thrusts, he sends you hurtling over the edge into madness.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, waves of pure ecstasy washing away any semblance of coherence. You scream Zoro's name like a prayer, your cries raw and ragged as the pleasure consumes you utterly. The rhythmic clenching of your inner muscles around his throbbing shaft drives him wild, his hips pistoning frantically as he chases his own release.

"Gonna—fuck—," he growls, his words strained with the effort to hold back. "—gonna fill you up so fucking much.”

And with a guttural groan, Zoro buries himself to the hilt inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he erupts deep within your fluttering depths. Wave after wave of his hot seed floods your channel, marking you as his, claiming you utterly. His hips jerk erratically as he rides out the intense pleasure, crazed in the sensation of your pussy milking him dry.

As the last spurts of his release subside, you collapse against him, face burying in the crook of his neck. Your ragged breaths mingle with his while your hearts pound in sync.

In the aftermath of your shared climax, Zoro gently pulls back, his gaze seems transfixed with a mixture of devotion and vulnerability. He guides you to sit flush against his chest, his strong arms encircling you protectively. Reaching for the blanket that had fallen askew during your passionate lovemaking, he re-wraps it snugly around your entwined bodies before letting his hands trail up and down your back in soothing circles.

He exhales softly, the silence lingering between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts. "I..." His voice falters, rough and uncertain, as though the feelings inside him are too complex to put into the right form. Rather than finishing, he pulls you closer, his face burying into your hair, his arms tightening around you—a quiet confession in the way he holds you.

A soft, contented laugh escapes you as you curl into him, warmth flooding your chest. "Mhm," you murmur in reply, a gentle smile tugging at your lips as you move to nuzzle into him.

The night wraps around you both, the steady rhythm of your breathing filling the silence. Zoro holds you close, the comforting weight of his body grounding you, and in this moment, everything beyond feels distant, unimportant. The warmth between you lingers, a quiet understanding that needs no words to be felt.

His hand moves gently across your back, tracing soft circles, and you sink deeper into him, the steady beat of his heart a calming rhythm beneath your ear. There’s peace here, in his arms, where the world falls away, leaving only the two of you.

In this moment, everything is right—just the two of you, enveloped in the stillness of the night, and nothing else matters.

[animequeen122]

Drunk!Loid Forger x wife!fem!reader | NSFW 🔞

Summary: Loid comes home very late drunk after going out drinking with Franky. He fucks you drunk.

Warnings: Porn with no plot lol. Smut +18. Oral fem! Masturbation. Inappropriate use of belt. Spanking. P i v. Unprotected sex, mention of pregnancy. MDNI

Wc: idk like 3k?

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For Agent Twilight, there was something pleasurable about playing Loid Forger, the carelessness that the peaceful family man could indulge in from time to time without suffering any major consequences...like the night Franky had invited him out for a drink.

Twilight was a man of strong drinks, the kind that go to your head and detach you from reality by ripping your thoughts and every last drop of consciousness from your brain... he was addicted to those drinks because he could stand them, because they were no challenge for the best spy in Westalis.

However... along with the wonderful, sweet personality that the Loid Forger brings with him, certain misplaced platitudes fall upon Twilight. Twilight was a cold man of steady mettle and pure stoicism, a determination that could not be eclipsed by mundane feelings like... falling in love....

The fusion of his alter ego as Loid Forger with that of his original identity as Twilight had led him to the very night he stumbled back to your house, his hand covering his face in search of relief from the terrible headache.

He doesn't turn on the kitchen light because he knows you're sleeping in their shared room, and he doesn't make any noise when he fills a glass of water because he's afraid of disturbing your sleep.

You, his beautiful and efficient wife, what more could he ask for but a devoted woman like you. Fuck... if only his mission would never end... he wouldn't have to leave you.

"Loid..." you whisper from the living room, peering over the wall. He woke you up... you can't see him in this state, he can't talk in this state. If he confesses anything now, if he gets carried away with his feelings for you, anything would jeopardize the mission...

Come on, Twilight, think fast. He shakes his head as he returns to his role as Loid Forger.

"Y/n, my dear. I'm sorry I woke you," the voice is calm, even though your name falls from his lips in a frenzy of emotions.

"You came back late," you add, emerging from your hiding place and walking towards him, who stops breathing for a moment.

The dim light illuminates your figure, you are wearing only one of his shirts, which covers the skin above your thighs, and a pair of white wool stockings. Your hair is down, and it seems to Twilight that you look perfect in this moment, with these clothes and this warm light.

Damn, she looks so...

"I'm... I'm sorry, I went out for a drink with Franky. I didn't think I'd be back so late," he stammers for a moment. What are you doing to him? What effect do you have on him that he can't control his emotions?

"I see," you smile, "your cheeks are pink, you look lovely"

"No... no, of course not," he turns his face away, lips parted and cheeks burning.

What are you doing, Twilight, regain your composure.

"I missed you," you confess, embracing him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting them fall to his stomach, filling his breath with your scent, your lemon and honey scent reaching into the deepest recesses of his mind, taking over his consciousness and his last shred of self-control.

I am Twilight... and I am fucked... I want to fuck her tonight like I've wanted to fuck her for months.

You are completely unaware of the man on top of you. He has carried you into the bedroom in one swift, nimble movement, stealthily and carefully. He has laid you down on the mattress and is now attacking your neck with his lips.

Whiskey breath surrounds your mind, your consciousness is clouded and your heart is disturbed by the frenzy of your husband's kisses, causing sensual gasps on your skin. Loid's hands run through your hair, tangling behind your neck to give him more access to your neck and chin, devouring your surface with hunger and desire.

You are completely immobilized by his muscular body, and by the surprise that his behavior has caused you, you feel your heart in your throat, the beats echoing in your ears, only eclipsed by his moaning when he touches the valley of your breasts through your shirt.

"Loid~" you bite your lip and try to push him away with both hands, but it's no use, Loid is so much stronger than you. Has he always been like this?

"You have no idea how you turn me on," he whispers, almost on the verge of madness, his throat is choked and he holds back his tongue that wants to run all over your body.

He sits on top of you, you find relief in being able to breathe normally for a moment as you see him unbutton his shirt, opening it with a jerk to expose his chiseled abdomen. It's not the first time you've looked at him without his clothes on, but you always marvel at the way his muscles stand out against his skin, the way a few scars frame his pecs and abdomen.

You reach out and touch his skin, the line between his chiseled abs, in a reflexive action. Having him so close, like this, awakens a vulgar side in you that only he knows.

"Patience," he whispers, the tone deep and punctuated with a lustful gasp.

He throws the cloth away from the bed and leaves his hands on the belt of his pants. His movements are desperate yet unmistakable, he is quite skilled for being so drunk.

His pants are on the floor next to his shirt and boxers, he holds the belt between his hands and strokes the leather with his fingers, a dark idea floating in his mind.

"Loid..." you get his attention, only to meet a dark stare, bathed in malice.

"I have plans for you, y/n" his smile is evil, but it turns you on, fuck, you've never seen this side of your husband before.

Loid made love to you, when you slept together he was the soft and gentle type who cared more about your satisfaction than his own. He didn't play with you, he didn't tempt you and he didn't make you beg. His gaze was always loving, full of sincere and genuine affection. His kisses were chaste, almost as if you would break if he came any closer, and his thrusts were gentle, so that he could feel you clearly and not hurt you.

And he didn't cum inside you because he knew you weren't ready to be pregnant, because it was enough to take care of Anya, another child would be too much work for both of you... so when you were done, he bathed you and fell asleep next to you, framing your form with a protective hug and sweet, almost poetic words in your ear until you were both asleep. Loid was a sweet and loving husband...

That was Loid, and it was okay... for you... because for Twilight, it was a nightmare.

He hated going slow, he hated not being able to bite your skin or leave marks between your legs, and worst of all, he hated you moaning a name that wasn't even his. That's why tonight, he would completely take over Forger's identity, kill Loid, and do to your body what Twilight had wanted to do since he first saw you.

"Shit," he grunts as he takes his member in his hand and fucks him with his fist, throwing his head back. Just the thought of fucking you that night had turned him on.

You look at him with great surprise, you've never seen Loid masturbate before and you didn't think the first time would be while he was on top of you. The way his ragged breathing lifts his chest, the way his muscles flex as he jerks his arm, and especially the way he moans your name as the red head of his cock drips pre-cum.

Even though you are completely unaware of this behavior, you can't take your eyes off of him. You slip a hand under your clothes, rifling through your panties in search of your clit, throbbing at the image of Loid above you. Your wrist is gripped by Loid's hand, which leans over you with a tight grip and whispers into your ear.

"Not yet. I haven't given you permission," the voice is unrecognizable, Loid has never used such a low tone.

He undoes the buttons of your shirt, pulling the fabric apart as he dips his face between your bare breasts, sliding the fabric under your shoulders as you squirm from the soft bites he leaves around your nipples.

He circles his tongue around the buttons of your breasts as he runs his hands all over you, from your sides to your arms, lifting them above your head. Loid touches you as if he has never touched a woman before.

He takes the belt and holds your wrists above your head, watching you from his position, like a hunter watching his prey. You let yourself be taken in by his bizarre game, maybe it's a fantasy he's wanted to fulfill for a long time and now he has the confidence to do it, you think.

And the reality is that Twilight fucks like this because he knows he's going to fuck you so good that you'll want to push it away with all your might.

He leaves a trail of kisses all over your face, down your chin, your neck, between your breasts and your stomach, around your waist and down to your hips, where he holds the elastic of your panties, fucking soaked with your juices.

He glances at you before tearing the thin fabric, and for a moment you can see the face of an unknown man, his face completely changed by the lust he is releasing at that moment. Leaning back on his elbows, he spreads your legs and rests them on his shoulders, licking his lips as he watches your dripping pussy.

With his fingers he gently caresses your valley and the edge of your hole, his finger grazes your clitoris, eliciting a moan from you.

He looks at you from between your legs, analyzes your face and the surroundings, and you swear his mind is going a mile a minute right now."What are you thinking about?" you ask embarrassed.Loid turns his gaze back to you, the blue of his eyes seeming darker than before.

"I was debating whether to gag you or not, I don't want to wake the kid."

"I won't make any noise... I... I promise," you say hesitantly, because you don't believe your own words.

"I want to hear you hold back," he smiles, the corner of his lip turning to the side.

He dips his face between your legs, his nose brushing your skin, his fingers parting your folds, his tongue moving from the base to the top. You shiver at the passage of his tongue as it begins to wiggle around your clit. It is delicate, gentle, as it always has been... but he seems to enjoy it more than before.

He gasps as he moves his head, his fingers spreading your folds further apart and you feel the warmth of his breath on your entrance. He doesn't tire, he doesn't stop, in fact, with each movement he seems more energetic than before.

He continues to caress your clit with his tongue, sucking on the small nub that makes you arch your back and hold back the moans that want to escape your mouth. You feel Loid's tongue at your entrance and his nose brushing your clit, then a finger slips gently inside you, followed by another.

His fingers are long, calloused, and surprisingly dexterous. He finds your spot almost immediately and you feel like you're seeing stars. His tongue doesn't leave your clit, your button is swollen and he sucks on it passionately while his fingers abuse your sensitive spot inside you.

Your walls close over his fingers, he thrusts in and out, fucking you wonderfully with his digits, while your ecstasy grows in your belly from his skillful tongue.

He lets out a hot gasp against your skin, and the sound of his fingers soaked in your juices floods the room, it seems harder and harder to contain your moans. You bite your lip hard as he makes a soft stroke over your button, his fingers digging deep inside you.

He makes a curious movement, lifting his fingers and seeming to increase his speed, he uses his other hand to mistreat your clit, with his elbows he spreads your legs. You can't close them, you want to, you want him to stop, you feel the burning in your stomach and in your legs. He lowers his face again to the level of your sex, just when it seems he is finished, he continues, his tongue abusing your hole and your clit in perfect synchrony, a hand runs down your belly and catches your breast.

"Loid~" you let out his name in an anxious moan "Ah~ Loid..."

That name, he thinks, his mouth and mind focused on your sex... I am that now, I am Loid Forger, this is my wife, and I will see to it that she can't get out of bed for days.

"Loid," you add, taking his hair between your fingers, your bound wrists making movement difficult.

"Mmh?" he whispers still between your legs, the vibrations of his voice sending electric waves up your spine.

"Since when... you're so good... so good at this," your words are cut off by a dirty moan that slips from between your lips. It hurts, it hurts not to be able to make a sound, it hurts not to be able to scream out how good your husband is eating you right now.

"What do you mean?" he asks, he knows exactly what you mean, but he likes to play with your mind, right now.

His movements are synchronized again and your mind is confused as you feel your orgasm erupt. Loid has never made you come with his tongue alone. And he hasn't lasted this long. It's different, he behaves differently.

You're breathing hard, your mind a whirlwind, and even more so as you watch Loid savor the nectar that has stained his fingers. His tongue dances erotically between his digits, and his gaze is all on you.

"I missed your taste. Much better than whiskey," he says.

You pick up your legs, thinking he is done, and when you go to ask him to untie your hands, you feel him flip your hips. The movement is quick, almost imperceptible, your face is glued to the sheet, and when you go to protest the sudden change of position, you feel him sink deep inside you.

"Loid!" the cry you let out is unmistakable. It hurt, but it also felt so good. He pushes your walls apart with his cock, molding your insides for him. He leaves a resounding slap on your butcheek and you hear him laughing behind you.

"Just what I wanted to hear," he says.

He pulls back, letting the head tease your entrance, your sodden pussy contracting to nothing, and he slips back in, whole, as far as your cervix will allow. You feel the crash of his hips against your ass and his balls slapping against your skin. His hands are anchored to your hips, leaving occasional slaps on your now pink skin. He's ramming you like an animal, the pace is fast and the force is enormous.

You tremble, your face sunk into the mattress, your forehead rubbing against the sheet from your husband's movements, your elbows in front of your head and your hands raised as if in prayer.

"Loid~ please...more...slower," you moan, almost sobbing.

Each thrust is accompanied by moans from both of you, his moans dark in comparison to yours, and in the background the grinding of the bed and the banging of the headboard against the wall. He moves like he's never moved before, fucks you like he's never fucked you before.

His fingers slide under your belly, touching your clit, you let out another scream at the overstimulation, and begin to move your hips in time to his fingers. Your breasts are massaged by his other hand, fully attended.

"Loid, Loid I..." you don't know what to say, the sentences you blurt out are meaningless, pleasure clouds your mind and all you hear is Loid's low growl behind you.

"You have no idea," he whispers in your ear and leans over you. You feel his chest against your back, your pussy shuddering at the change in position and the sudden cessation of his assault. "You have no idea how many times I've wanted to fuck you like this."

He spreads your lips with his fingers and your tongue tastes your own taste and a hint of the whiskey he'd had a few hours ago.

"m gonna fuck you until that little pussy of yours breaks, did you hear me?" he demanded grabbing a fistful of your hair and lifting your head.

"Yes... yes I heard you" you blurted out between moans. You couldn't say no, you didn't want to.

He continues his onslaught, more violent than the previous ones, expanding your walls, opening you wide for him, throwing your head back in an avid attempt to enjoy every nook and cranny of your loins. It feels as if it's going to pierce you at any moment, hammering against your spot abruptly, relentlessly.

You turn your head to look at him in the mirror, head back, eyes closed and lips parted, letting out low moans. His arms, muscles tense as his hands hold your hips, holding you in place. His hips move deftly, forcefully, he knows how to align himself perfectly before entering you again.

And you, your back is arched perfectly, your ass vibrates with each thrust and your breasts jiggle in frenzy from the onslaught of his cock. Your cheeks are pink, your lips swollen, your forehead sweaty.

"So good" you hear Loid, who leaves his hand on the back of your neck, returning to your starting position.

You reach your second orgasm without even recovering from the first, and Loid cums inside you soon after.

"I like that you have stamina," he says, turning your body around without coming out of you, his movements continuing, resuming the frantic rhythm of a few seconds ago.

You don't have stamina, fuck no, of course not. But there's not much you can do when your hands are tied and held down by a burly man taller than you. You tell him you can't take it anymore, you feel like you're going to pass out, but fuck, how good it feels when he caresses your waist while he fucks you in that position.

He hides his face in your neck, strokes your hair, frames your cheek with his hand. Untie your hands without looking, and you finally feel free enough to anchor yourself to his back, marking his skin with your nails and playing with his hair.

Loid's favorite position is missionary, because he can smell you as he penetrates you, because he has access to you in every possible way, because he intertwines his hands with yours above your head and whispers that he loves you, over and over and over again.

"Say my name," he whispers, his voice drowned out by your shoulder, "say my name, please.

"Loid," you whisper again and again as you wrap your legs around his waist and your hands find comfort in his.

He kisses you, kisses you as if he had never kissed you before, as if with one kiss he could suck your soul and keep you in his chest forever. With this kiss, he tears away all your doubts and strengthens the promise of a life together with you.

He will not leave you, he tells you fervently, he swears on his life that he will never leave you, that he will put a child in you and that he will not leave this family.

"I hope you will accept me as I am," he whispers.

"Oh, Loid," you smile as you cling to him in an embrace, your legs feeling your third orgasm approaching,

"Loid~ I love you...".

There are no words to describe this night, it has drained you of all your energy, you feel almost sick, weak and completely out of control.Loid hugs you to his chest and covers you with the sheets, leaving a kiss on your forehead and whispers how well you took it.

"Loid..." you whisper.

"Yes?"

"You don't have to ask me to accept you...I love you in every possible way. If this is your way of telling me that I need to get to know you better, I am ready to do so. If I discover another phase of you, as I did today, I will be more than happy to do so," you look at him smiling, "I have noticed that you have many faces that I don't know, Loid Forger.

Loid Forger, he thinks, the man of a thousand faces... doesn't sound bad.

He knows he'll have to tell you about his mission someday, but now is not the time, not after he's shed his facade and shown you an authentic side of himself. Even though he knows you'll understand, he doesn't want to risk everything, at least not yet... later, when you know Twilight better, he can tell you everything... and stay with you. ....

[animequeen122]

──────〃✰ kinktober 2024 ୨ৎ

welcome to my first kinktober! bellow you'll find prompts i've come up with + one that was commented on a post i made about this very same subject.

if you want to be tagged, tell me! i update this post everytime i finish one of the prompts with some details.

୨ৎ WEEK 1: LET'S PLAY PRETEND ୨ৎ

OCT 1ST strip poker with sir crocodile

title: poker face synopsis: luckily, mr. zero didn't knew you were a mugiwara. luckily, mr. zero fell for your bluffs. unfortunately, you never imagined it would be that hard to not fall for crocodile's charm. [3.1K] cw: mugiwara!fem!reader, strip poker, strip tease, public sex, cock crush, nipple stimulation, size difference, fingering (f!receiving), riding, biting, scratching, finger sucking, p in v, creampie, possessive behavior, mob boss meets a baddie, pussy so good he wonders about marriage.

OCT 3TH somnophilia with kento nanami

title: sweet dreams synopsis: watching the man you love deny himself of his needs, you take matters into your own hands. or lips, to be more precise. [1.5K] cw: established relationship, service top!reader, somnophilia, body worship, nipple stimulation, masturbation (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), choking (gn!receiving), hair pulling, overstimulation.

OCT 5TH incest with karlach

title: a small favor synopsis: a movie night turned into you being a good girl for your older sister. if only she had warned you of what it truly meant. [1.1K] cw: t!karlach, plus size!reader, incest, lil sis/big sis, dub con, gaslighting, obssessive behavior, apologetic, spit, dry humping, pussyjob, premature ejaculation.

୨ৎ WEEK 2: MONSTERS AND LESBIANS DESERVE LOVE TOO ୨ৎ

OCT 6TH monster fucking with multiple monsters

title: haunted bang synopsis: when you decided to explored a haunted mansion, all you wanted was to gain more knowledge for your grimoire. you never expected it to be habited, even less for all the residents to agree that sharing is caring. [2.4K] cw: wizard!reader, teratophilia, monster fucking, gangbang, voyeurism, size difference, manhandling, mind connection, scent kink, oral (females!receiving), pet play, pussy drunk, overstimulation, you know that post about "would you fuck your clone?", f in v, monsters included are a eldritch creature, a werewolf, a vampire and a shapeshifter.

OCT 8TH shower sex with namivivi

title: let it sink in synopsis: the fight was over, the war was done, but the tension was still there. watching the princess falling victim of her own mind, the navigator has to intervene. [1K] cw: established relationship, insecurity, a bit of hurt and a lot of comfort, this isn't sex it's love okay i'm sensitive about them, shower sex, masturbation.

OCT 10TH scent kink with farcille

title: animal attraction synopsis: back from the dead, falin could feel something changing inside of her. but with marcille's scent blinding her mind, she ignored the dragon and focused on the warmth coming from her friend. [0.8K] cw: the night pre-chimera, scent kink (in a dragon’s mate way), nipple stimulation, a tiny small bit of somnophilia, erotic dreams, public sex.

OCT 12TH masturbation with nico robin

title: a helping hand synopsis: there is an aspect of sailing in the grand line you failed to consider: there is no one to fuck. of course, that's only true if you ignore your crew as candidates. [0.5K] cw: sorry for the delay! reader has a little crush on luffy, masturbation, accidental orgasm denial, accidental/non-accidental voyeurism.

୨ৎ WEEK 3: REWARD SYSTEM ୨ৎ

OCT 13TH praise kink with kagaya x reader x amane

title: pretty, pretty, pretty synopsis: back from a mission, is time to remember your lovers you will always be there to take care of their every needs and desires. [1.1K] cw: sorry for the delay! established relationship, kagaya x reader x amane, dom!fem!reader, praise kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f! and m! receiving), body worship, oral (m!receiving).

OCT 15TH bondage with dark justiciar shadowheart

title: sing your prayers synopsis: to worship lady shar, one must be perfect. shadowheart will guide you, make you the best you can ever be. don't matter the cost, her teachings shall find a way into your very soul. [1K] cw: fem!reader, bard!tav, domme!shadowheart, power imbalance, memory loss, bondage, humilliation kink, temperature play, gaslighting, dacryphilia, religious imagery, Shar vs Selune.

OCT 17TH corruption kink with shan yu

title: training session synopsis: you're tired of being treated like a glass about to be shattered. if he will have you whole, than it's only fair you receive the same. [1.3K] cw: established relationship, corruption kink, finger sucking, masturbation (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), cum eating.

୨ৎ WEEK 4: ANIME SEASON ୨ৎ

OCT 24TH sex pollen with kyojuro rengoku

title: milk me synopsis: usually demons' poisons just kill whoever was affected by them. this time, it served for something else. something way better. [2.1K] cw: established relationship, eye patch!kyojuro, crystal hashira!reader, sex pollen, public sex, pussy drunk, forced orgasms, overstimulation, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), p in v, dacryphilia, spit, nipple stimulation, accidental voyeurism (we'll say: sorry miss shinobu).

୨ৎ WEEK 5: LOVE, LOVE, LOVE ୨ৎ

OCT 27TH exhibitionism kink with ryomen sukuna

title: mine synopsis: watching the man you love deny himself of his needs, you take matters into your own hands. or lips, to be more precise. [0.5K] cw: established relationship, toxic couple (only towards others), exhibitionism, public sex, cockwarming.

taglist: @ffinosie @lovelyy-moonlight @alzaira @s2-angells @eyes-ofhell @inlovewithmariah @chiiyohiimee @shaquilles-0atmeal @bloodyziggy @salemey @kcch-ns @notanalienindisguiseblink @py-schi @miyanosm @idonthaveanameforthisacc

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[animequeen122]

it's nice to have a friend

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: you're having the worst period you've had in a long time. bucky is determined to help you feel better.

author's note: this is a silly and smutty piece that i felt compelled to write when i got my period a few days ago!

warnings/tags: smutty, reader has a period, langauge, use of a vibrator, nipple stimulation, no use of y/n, use of a cbd gummy lol, 18+ only

Approximately every twenty-eight days, you curse the fact that you were born with a uterus and vagina. 

This month, however, you were cursing that fact a bit earlier than expected. Cycle day twenty three, to be exact. 

Your periods never start this early, but as soon as you opened your eyes at six o'clock this morning, you knew what had occured while you were asleep. You could feel the moisture that soaked through your underwear and pajama pants before you could turn on the light to see that your white sheets had been dyed bright crimson beneath where you'd been laying. 

One load of laundry with extra stain remover and as much Pamprin max strength as one can safely take later, you are curled up on the couch of the compound's living room with a cup of coffee and a heating pad turned up so high that you risk first degree burns. 

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you today? We can go to Coney Island another time,” Natasha tries to reason with you once again. 

“I promise I'll be okay here,” you assure her. “These cramps are killing me, I won't be any fun to hang out with today. Go, enjoy yourself. When is the next time that you'll all have a free day and weather this perfect?” You gesture towards the sunshine streaming through the living room windows. 

“If you're sure,” she caves after a few moments of hesitation. “Promise I’ll win you that stuffed panda that you wanted so badly last time.” 

“I am going to hold you to that,” you tell her in a faux-serious tone. 

After Natasha and the rest of your friends have left for their day of riding rollercoasters and eating hotdogs on the boardwalk, you turn on your comfort show and settle in for an unexciting and uncomfortable day by yourself. 

A few hours later, you decide you've sat in the same position for long enough - you can practically feel your body morphing to the sofa. You're walking to the kitchen to refill your water bottle and find something to snack on when you collide with what feels like a brick wall. 

A brick wall that happens to smell really, really fucking good. 

You step back, finding that the brick wall is staring at you with a confused look on his face. 

"What are you doing here?” Bucky asks as he glances you over from head to toe, taking in your choice of apparel - baggy sweats that are about two sizes too big for you, a cropped tank, and fuzzy slippers. You resist the urge to cross your arms over your stomach - you didn't think anyone else would be here today and the tank top you're wearing doesn't exactly conceal the period bloat you're currently experiencing. 

"I live here,” you snap, a bit harsher than necessary. “What are you doing here?” 

“I also live here,” he says, returning your attitude. You roll your eyes, maneuvering your way around where he blocks the doorway. 

“What I mean,” he continues as he turns around, following you into the kitchen. “Is why aren't you with everyone at Coney Island?” 

“I could ask you the same question,” you challenge, pouring some more ice into your cup. “Steve never shuts up about the glory days, all the time the two of you spent at Coney Island. I'm surprised you're not there with him right now.” 

He huffs a laugh, pulling out one of the barstools at the kitchen's giant island and taking a seat. “We did spend a ridiculous amount of time at Coney Island,” he admits, his voice almost wistful. He hesitates before continuing, staring down at his hands as he traces a metal crevice on his left palm.

"But I haven't been to Coney Island since the forties. Guess I'm kinda scared it won't live up to my memories of it. Plus, I had a lot of laundry to catch up on, so..” he shrugs, trailing off. 

You're taken aback by the honesty of his explanation. “Yeah, well,” you start awkwardly, turning away from him to search through a cabinet for something to eat. “I can't say that I know what it was like in the forties, but it's one of my favorite places, present day.” 

“Then why are you hanging out by yourself while all of your friends are at one of your favorite places?” 

Damn it, you curse internally. He's really not going to drop this. What should I say, that my uterine lining is falling out in clumps? 

You grab a bag of freeze-dried fruit from the cabinet before turning back to face him, trying to come up with an excuse. 

“I just didn't sleep great–” you come to an abrupt stop in the middle of your sentence as a blinding pain shoots through your lower abdomen. The bag of fruit falls to the floor as you steady yourself on the ledge of the counter with one hand, clutching your stomach with the other. 

Bucky rises from his seat in an instant, closing the several feet of distance between the two of you in one big step. 

"Are you okay? What’s going on?” His hands are both extended to you in an offer of help. 

“I'm fine,” you say through a sharp intake of breath. “It’s.. it’s just cramps. Bad cramps,” you force the words out, propping your elbows up on the countertop to relax your body weight. 

“Oh,” he says as realization dawns on him. He bends down to grab the bag of fruit that lays next to your feet, and then places it on the table in front of you. “I guess that answers my question, then,” he adds, referring to why you didn't go to Coney Island. 

“Ya think?” You stand back upright, grabbing your snack and water bottle off of the counter. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a busy day of bed-rotting ahead of me.” 

“Some exercise would help,” he calls when you're about to exit the kitchen. “Laying in bed won't do much for you. A little bit of light exercise to release some beta-endorphins, maybe an abdominal massage–” 

“Are you really man-splaining menstrual cycle pain management to me right now?” You ask, slowly turning to face him with an incredulous look on your face. “I wasn't aware that you had a medical license or that I asked for your opinion.” 

“Just trying to help, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a mischievous grin. 

“If you want to help, you can go get the Italian food that I'm craving and give me an abdominal massage yourself,” you practically spit at him. “Otherwise, keep the unsolicited advice to yourself and fuck off.” 

You turn back around and all but run out of the room before you can process the shocked, albeit pleased look on his face.  

After you've closed your bedroom door behind you (with perhaps a bit more force than necessary), you sink into the fresh sheets on your bed and shove several pieces of apricot into your mouth. 

Rationally, you knew that Bucky's advice was solid, and that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. That's just the kind of friendship that the two of you have. Sarcastic, teasing and occasionally… tension-filled. 

You definitely didn't help the matter by telling him to massage your abdomen, but what does he expect when he suggests something as horrible as exercising during a time that you simply want nothing more than to melt into your mattress? 

Your cell phone chimes from the pocket of your sweatpants. You dig it out and look at the text displayed across your lock screen. 

Bucky Barnes: What kind of Italian food, specifically? 

You would never admit it to him, but the corners of your mouth tug upwards into a smirk as you read his message. 

You type: Don't you have a lot of laundry to catch up on? and press send. The message is marked as “read” right away. 

He types. And types. And types some more – until those three dots indicating a message in progress disappear. 

Whatever. You click your phone off and toss it somewhere in the covers around you. 

The next couple hours are spent sitting under the near scalding stream of your shower, and then reading on your Kindle in the dark. As jealous as you are that your friends are undoubtedly having a blast today, you honestly don't mind your current situation - aside from feeling like your organs are being pulled out of your vagina, you hardly ever have days with zero obligations other than to just relax in whatever way you see fit. 

A strong knock on your door causes you to lose your place on the page. 

"You didn't give me a legitimate answer so I hope you like gnocchi, or eggplant parmesan, or traditional lasagna, or extra breadsticks..” 

“You know, it's not funny to joke about carbs to someone when they are–” 

You come to a stop in the middle of your sentence when you swing your door open to see him holding several plastic bags. An aroma of garlic and herbs hits you in the face. 

Oh. Not a joke, then. 

He extends one of the bags to you with his big, blue puppy dog eyes. You take it from him, opening the door further as an invitation to enter your bedroom. 

"Consider this a peace offering,” he says, placing the other bags of food on your bed and perching awkwardly on the edge of your mattress. You close the door behind you, walking back to where you had previously been lounging on the bed. 

“I'm sorry for being a smartass,” he adds more genuinely. “I just.. didn't like seeing you in pain. That's all.” 

“This is far from my first period,” you shrug, not meeting his stare. “You get used to it after a while. But consider yourself forgiven.” 

He gives you a small smile when you finally look up at him. He grabs a smaller bag that you hadn't noticed him carrying, one that is visibly less full than the others. He reaches inside, pulling out a small jar that he hands over to you. 

Your brows furrow as you inspect it closely. “CBD gummies?” You ask, your brows now raising quizzically. You open the jar, popping one of the pink, cube-shaped gummies into your mouth. “Watermelon flavored CBD gummies?” 

You notice the faintest trace of blush bloom across his cheeks. “I take them sometimes to help me sleep,” he starts, fiddling with some of the beading on your comforter. “But they can help with all different kinds of pain too, so I just thought you might like some.” 

You close the jar, placing it on your bedside table before reaching over and grabbing his flesh hand in yours. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze and then releasing it. “Really. I appreciate all of this.” You try to ignore the jolt of electricity that buzzes through you when your skin comes in contact with his. His hand is both softer and warmer than you would have imagined. It brings you back to the last words that you spewed at him in the kitchen earlier. 

"A shit ton of pasta and CBD gummies,” you snort a laugh. “Would I be pushing my luck if I asked for that abdominal massage too?” You say it in a way that sounds halfway serious, halfway joking. 

“If that's what you want,” he says lowly, turning to angle his body towards you on the bed. “Then just say the word.” 

The air in your room suddenly feels suffocating. 

It is what you want - but you're at a loss for words. So instead of a verbal response, you scoot over to the middle of the bed, closer to where he sits on the opposite side. You lay down so that your back is flat against the mattress, your head propped up by a single pillow. 

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly wipes the look of astonishment from his features. He moves so that he's sitting directly next to your legs, giving him a proper angle to put his hands on your lower stomach. 

You're wearing the same sweatpants and tank top from earlier, having thrown the outfit back on after your shower. The loose sweatpants hang low enough to expose your hip bones and the edge of your underwear. 

The intimacy of the entire situation hits you the second that his hands make contact with your skin. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, perhaps sensing your nerves. “Or if I do anything that doesn't feel good.” 

Your eyes shut instinctively at the polar opposite sensations of his flesh and vibranium hands. Skin and metal, fire and ice.

“I will,” you assure him. Your words come out breathier than intended. 

There's an immediate relief in your lower stomach as he rubs languid circles across your midriff. It's a feeling beyond pleasure as the cramps fade the more he touches you. 

His vibranium pinky dances along the waistband of your underwear, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. You try to focus on the relief he's bringing you - not the fact that you're wearing a thin tank top that leaves so much of your skin on display, giving him a clear view of the goosebumps that he's caused. 

He continues with the precise motions until the pain in your abdomen has faded nearly entirely - you feel so good that you can't stop yourself from letting out the smallest moan when his flesh hand applies just the right amount of pressure near your pelvis. 

You know he heard it - there's no way he didn't. Just as you know there's no way that he doesn't notice your fully hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top. 

You keep your eyes closed, terrified to meet his gaze in this state. You dread the moment that you feel his hands pull away from your skin. 

"You know,” he starts, his voice possessing a strained edge. “I don't think this is good enough for you.” 

Your eyes shoot open, looking at him in a nervous confusion. There's a glimmer in his eyes that you can't quite pinpoint - his stare trailing to your bedside table on the opposite side of you. “But I think I do know what could make you feel much better.” 

“What are you talking about?” Your voice quivers as you follow his stare. You're not sure what he's looking at - all that sits on your nightstand is the CBD gummies he had just given you, your Kindle, a few books, a bottle of lotion, and the Himalayan salt lamp that paints you both in an orange glow. 

He smirks before leaning across you - keeping his vibranium hand pressed firmly on your belly as he uses his flesh hand to pull open the drawer of the small table. 

“Hey! What are you–” but he retrieves the object he’s looking for before you can finish questioning him. You freeze at what he's holding in his hand. 

Your vibrator. Your glittery, lavender colored vibrator. 

“How the fuck did you–” 

“Do you think I can't hear you using this from across the hallway late at night?” He grins smugly. “That I can't hear your little whimpers when you think everyone's asleep?” 

Your face heats up a hundred degrees. You don't know whether to be infuriated or massively turned on. 

Both. You're definitely feeling a mix of both. 

He clicks the power button, turning on the device to its lowest setting. He watches you for a moment, giving you ample time to tell him to fuck off.

Instead, you once again relax against the pillow, your body going limp for him. You spread your legs the slightest bit. 

He takes this as his signal to proceed. Not taking his eyes off of your face, he trails the head of the wand from your lower stomach and over the fabric of your sweatpants until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your nipples pucker once again, your thighs clenching around the tip of the vibrator. 

Bucky moves the device in a circular motion, making your back arch off the bed and your head tip back. 

How is it that it feels better when he massages you with it through your fucking pants than it does when you use it on your bare pussy? 

You hear the clicking of a button again, and the force of the vibration over your clothed cunt increases. You grind down on the device, desperate for friction. 

Bucky watches you with something akin to pride on his face. 

“You know how I told you to tell me if I do something you don't like?” He asks as he pushes the head of the wand directly down on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Yeah,” you answer - it comes out like a moan that you'd hear in a porno.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Remember that.” 

Before you can clear your head enough to wonder what he means, he's tugging up the cotton fabric of your tank top and exposing your breasts. 

You gasp at the sensation of the cool air blowing from the AC coming in contact with your already hard nipples. Bucky leans forward, keeping the vibrator on your core, and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. 

Your hand immediately goes to his hair, tugging the soft brown locks in your fingers to keep him in place. His free hand grasps your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The combination of pleasure radiating from your pussy and his hand and mouth on you is fucking perfect. Fucking perfect, and all too much. 

You clench your thighs together, riding against the vibrator until you feel warmth spreading through your lower belly. 

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you moan - he groans when you say his name, the vibration sending you tumbling over the edge. You come hard, possibly harder than any other orgasm you've had in your life, thoroughly soaking your panties. 

When you've finished writhing beneath him, Bucky pulls back, removing both his mouth and the vibrator. He clicks the device off, tossing it towards the foot of your bed. 

You're panting, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process what the fuck just happened when you hear Bucky let out a low chuckle. 

Your eyes snap to him, finding that he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. 

"Can't say that's how I expected the day to go when I decided to sit this Coney Island trip out,” he sighs. 

“You can say that again.” You sit upright, bending your legs and crossing them at the ankles. You lean forward, tugging your shirt back into place before pulling one of the bags of food to you. 

"We should go sometime soon. Together,” you add, somewhat nervously. You aren't sure why - the guy just gave you the best orgasm of your life (and barely even touched you). 

“Are you asking me on a date?” that sly smile reappears. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” 

"Then my answer is yes. But only if you share some of this food with me.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks so much for reading!!! can anyone tell that i really fucking love food by how often i incorporate it into my writing? 😅