#god i am just so obsessed with this i can't

[bubbarnes]

oh my god bella, i was scared and was about to say that i didn't read the first part and then found out i actually did it, rambling as fucking always and even said she was trick and treated with some good dick, what the hell? lmao

anyways, this was... an experience? like, i know you say it's more personal and all but baby, at least for me it was so close to home, i don't even know if that makes sense.

i know she is having the best boyfriend and everything but my god, those feelings? the whole "i can't fit no matter what I do"? that was so fucking good and so well written that i feel it in my heart and soul and felt like crying and that hollow, you know?

and then you go and punch me some more with bucky's sweetness, showing me I'll never have him and oh, how obsessed he is with her? i live for that shit.

i love how much he loves her. and in my mind, obviously you know them better but like, bucky fell first and harder, you know? of course they're crazy for each other but i just know he loves her so much he would do anything for his woman, no matter how difficult, hard and/or impossible that is.

i love them and i just know the moment she's saying yes to marry him, he's gonna be like "you want to get married like, right now? maybe tomorrow, so you can get your hair and make up done" lmaooo

i cannot believe once again, i am leaving a whole ass boring thing here but it's totally your fault. can't believe you made me feel sad and happy and envious of what they have and everything else. i love youuuu.

with you

part one

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. established relationship from everybody talks - but can be read as a standalone! feelings of loneliness. some angst. unprotected sex. squirting. use of pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby). dirty talk. heaps and heaps of fluff. if something needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: just about 8.5k

notes: a huge thank you to @whatever-lmaoo for beta-ing for me yet again! i appreciate you so much!! and i know, i know, a little late for a halloween fic- but i guess it’s okay bc this isn’t really all that halloweeney lol. honestly a little more personal than usual but i hope you all enjoy it anyway. please let me know what you think and thank you in advance for taking the time to read! 🩵

You’re pushing the basket, weaving your way through the aisles full of other semi last minute shoppers in search of their own Halloween costumes. You can’t get past a family spread out in the middle of the aisle as they contemplate their options aloud, no concern for the other people around them trying to shop. You suppress your eye roll but not the sigh of slight annoyance as you back up and move to the next aisle over, thankfully empty.

There aren’t many options here, but maybe something will give you an idea of what to dress up as. A couple minutes pass as you peruse the random assortment of costume accessories. Your mind is fully in idea mode as you try to piece something wearable together in your mind… you have that black maxi dress hanging in your closet, that could probably work as a good base.

You’re not paying attention to your surroundings as you nudge the basket further down the aisle while you examine two different pairs of long black gloves in your hands and take a step down the aisle to see the witch hats.

But do you really wanna be a witch? You purse your lips in thought before tossing the sets of gloves back into the big green cauldron you got them from. Your eyes linger on the witch section as you grasp the handle of the cart and start to push.

Before you set your head straight, you’re stopped in your path as you find yourself crashing into something. Oh gosh…

Someone.

Your apology is sputtering out past your lips before you can even turn to see the injured party, but once you do, and your eyes meet with sparkling blues, you stop your fumbling and sigh heavily in your relief.

“Oh, thank god,” you breathe as your shoulders relax. “I thought I actually hit someone.”

“Am I not someone?” Bucky scoffs with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“No, you are,” you assure him as you leave the basket and walk toward him, “but you’re my someone, so it’s okay and you have to forgive me.”

“Oh, I see,” he nods, eyeing you in your approach. You double check the aisle is still clear before kissing him, soft and fleeting.

“Did you find it?”

“Out of stock,” he frowns.

“Damn. We’ve looked everywhere, what now?”

“I don’t think ghosts lining the grass are gonna do much more than the full out display you’ve already set up, sweetheart. I think we’ll be okay,” he laughs.

“Yeah,” you sigh, a soft pout still on your lips, “you’re right. I just…”, a tight, heavy sigh leaves you as you shake your head, trailing off.

Bucky steps closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist, squeezing lightly.

“I know,” he says, softly.

You force a smile, taking his hand to hold in yours. “Alright, well, we got the candy and the groceries and the toothpaste,” you list aloud, trying to think if you’re forgetting anything.

“Toilet paper,” Bucky supplies, pushing the cart backwards before turning it to push it himself.

“Toilet paper! Who needs a list when I have you,” you lean into him as you walk before heading to the aisle ahead of him.

—

“Sweetheart?” Bucky calls from the kitchen as you wipe at the stray tear falling down your cheek. You blow your nose gently and close out of the app.

Another post of fall fun your nieces are having, and right below it another post from another costume party you weren’t invited to.

Don't let it get to you, you chide yourself. It's just the fomo sinking in. Nothing more.

You wipe at your cheeks before grabbing the door handle, calling down the stairs, "I'm coming!"

You make your way down the steps and are met at the bottom with Bucky, smiling like a schoolboy.

In his hands he holds a singular Halloween decoration.

"It's not light up ghosts, but,"

"It's perfect," you cut him off, smiling softly as you take the familiar ghost cutout from his hands.

You can't help but grin at the memory of your first Halloween with Bucky. Your first date. First meeting! God, it's been a whirlwind of a year.

Your eyes flicker to his and you immediately meet his stunning gaze; his already set on you.

"Just like you," he simpers.

You groan in jest, setting the cutout to rest along the stairs before you wrap your arms around him, leaning into his warm, solid hold. You sigh as he rubs your back comfortingly.

"Hey," he calls gently, causing you to pick up your head to look at him. "Talk to me. Please," he adds as your pout grows. "You've been off all week, what's going on?"

Your gaze drops to his chest as your arms drop from around him. He doesn't let you slip away as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the couch, pushing you down before he follows suit, wasting no time in getting you back in his hold once you're both comfortable. You let your head rest on his chest as he holds you.

"I miss my family," you say simply with a shrug.

He waits for more, but when he realizes you're done talking, he speaks himself.

"You've been missing them since we moved here," he presses, "I know it's not just that."

You mindlessly play with the buttons on his shirt, not able to make eye contact right now.

You swallow hard.

You know the truth, and you know Bucky deserves to know what you're thinking. After all, he did uproot his entire life for you after only knowing you five months...

"I just...I don't know."

You glance up at him, his eyes soft and gaze patient.

"I... What if this was just a huge mistake?" You ask. "Moving here. Just another stupid, selfish idea that I'm gonna regret by next year."

"Living your life away from your family isn't stupid or selfish," he says, no judgement in his soothing voice. "And, you know what we talked about before we moved here. No regrets. And if you decide you want to go back,"

"We go back," you nod. "I know."

"Well," he starts, "do you?"

"No," you answer right away. It's the truth. You don't. But still, that fear. The unknown, it nips at you. What if? "I knew this wasn't gonna be easy, but," you sigh, "what if I just don't belong here?"

His brows furrow, "Why wouldn't you?"

"It's been, what, seven months? And what do I have to show for it? And it's not just work-" you stop yourself before you start to rambling, taking a deep breath. "I haven't even made a single friend yet. All those sets and events and all those people I've met, and I just. I haven't fit in anywhere. No one...likes me," you trail off so quietly, not really wanting him to hear.

"Sweetheart, that is not true."

"You don't know that, Buck,"

"Oh, and you do?"

"I do. That gig on Monday," you stammer, embarrassed, "it's stupid," you try to brush off, not wanting to have to explain the memory.

He doesn't have to say a word with the look on his face.

You sigh, but continue.

"We were in between takes and everyone was talking, like, to each other in a group. And I was there, but like, I wasn't there. I was standing with everyone else and trying to be...engaging. But," you purse your lips as the embarrassment burns you anew. "And, they were talking about their plans for Halloween, and this girl said she was throwing a party, and she invited everyone, asked for their numbers so she could send them the information, and she got everyone's number. Except for mine. And I was just standing there, like, probably looking so lame," you try to laugh as your eyes sting, "pretending like I didn't notice, nonchalant," you breathe tightly, pulling at a loose thread on the little V of his henley.

"I followed some of the other people online for like, 'connections', ya know, for future work, and one of them posted pictures from the party, and like, everybody from that set was there. And it looked like so much fun. And, you know I don't even like parties," you throw out, "but...why wasn't I invited? Why," you pause, biting your tongue, "why didn't they like me?"

"Baby," Bucky coos, his touch featherlight and yet so stabilizing, "those are just a few people,"

"That wasn't an isolated incident, Bucky. That has been my entire life. I try not to let it bother me, but I try. So hard, I try to be...normal. Likeable. Friendly. And no matter what I do, or how well I think I play the part, I'm just a mess of introversion and social anxiety."

You can see how badly he wants to interrupt you and reassure you of your so-called perfection, but he doesn't. He lets you talk; he wants to hear you.

"You know how many parties I was invited to in school?" you ask rhetorically. "Not a single one. And the people I thought were my friends wer-" you shake your head. "I'd always try to console myself with the thought that it would get better as I got older, but I think...I think it actually hurts more now than it ever did back then. The nerds were friends with the nerds, and the popular kids were friends with the popular kids, and everybody had their group. But even in my 'group', I was just kinda there. Not alone, but alone. Fading into the background. Into the gray."

You sit in quiet for a long moment before continuing.

"But then I'd get home. And I'd be with my sisters, and all of a sudden I wasn't alone. And I was, like, really me. For forever, they were the only people who ever really, truly saw me. Who I was comfortable enough with to be myself," you turn into Bucky further, your hand still on his chest.

"Then I met you," you smile. "And I don't know how or why, but you see me."

"In technicolor," he whispers as he lets his knuckles brush your cheek. You close your eyes at his soft touch, melting further into him.

"I've just been feeling excluded, and then I start missing my sisters even more, and you know I love you, so much, but this job is just constant rejection and it all just piles on and I keep trying to get by without having to dwell on it all, but I know I can't keep doing that. I know I want to be here. And I can do this. It just, gets hard sometimes. And I've been getting in my head. And I'm sorry I haven't talked about it sooner. I don't want it to seem like I regret moving here, and I really don't want it to seem like I'm not so grateful that you're here with me. That you came all this way for me. It means the world; you mean the world to me."

"The feeling is mutual," Bucky simpers, the corner of his lips turning up as he watches you, his hand aimlessly wandering up and down your side. "I'd go anywhere with you, sweetheart. I know it's not the same, but for what it's worth, I like you. I'd want you at every party."

You smile at him as he cuddles you and can't help the fit of laughter that erupts from you as he squeezes you, nuzzling into your neck and peppering kisses along your delicate skin.

You catch your breath as he finally lets up and pulls away, only to lean his face closer to yours, kissing you softly.

"I'm really proud of you, you know. You're a lot stronger, and a lot braver than you give yourself credit for. And anyone would be lucky to be able to have you in their life, let alone to call you their friend. As your best friend, I should know," he adds playfully.

"You're my best friend?"

"And you're mine," he nods, eyes gleaming with that look that sends butterflies a flight in your tummy. Your eyes flick down to his lips for less than a second before he's kissing you again; just as soft, and twice as sweet.

"I love you," he murmurs.

"Iloveyou," you mumble back, just a little dumb from the depth of his kiss. You give yourselves a moment in your shared embrace before you speak again. "Okay," you sigh, "we gotta finish the yard so I can facetime the girls before they head out for trick or treating."

Bucky rolls off the couch before pulling you up after him as you extend your arm expectantly.

You’re surprised as Bucky’s hold doesn’t let up and he tugs you into him. You stare at him, eyes wide and curious.

“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling bad lately. Whatever you wanna do tonight, and tomorrow,” he emphasizes as you smile demurely, “you got it.”

“Because that wasn’t gonna happen anyway?” You tease, earning a smirk from him as you reach for his hand to drag him to the front of the house.

You pause in your path and spin to go grab your favorite little ghost decoration from the steps.

“I know exactly where this is going.”

—

The familiar ring of the Facetime call has you growing more and more giddy with anticipation as you wait your sister's answer.

But the longer you wait, the more fallen your smile becomes.

Your FaceTime isn't answered, but not too long after, your phone dings with a text.

The girls went trick or treating early, no connection. Sorry! Try to call you back later. But send pics of the yard whenever! We need to see!

You deflate at the news. You guys had planned this, they knew how excited you were to show the girls the house yourself - or as close as you could get. Stuff happens, and by now you've come to accept that when it comes to kids, plans rarely ever play out the way you'd like. But still.

You sigh as Bucky watches you intently, noticing your shift in mood instantly. You can already see how the rest of the night will go. They'll get back from trick or treating and try to call, but you'll inevitably miss it, and once you do get another moment to call back, the girls will already be asleep. Pics will be it.

And that's...okay. You're disappointed, of course, but really, it's okay. You’re sure had you not talked to Bucky about how you’d been feeling lately, you’d be in tears right about now. But having gotten some of your frustration and anxiety out has helped. Just being around him has helped. You didn’t realize before that you’d been in and out of the house all week with classes and work and now that you think about it, this is the first day you’ve been able to spend actual time with Bucky, too. No wonder you were feeling so isolated.

"Can't talk right now?" Bucky asks as he steps closer to you in the front yard.

"Nope," you pop the 'p'. "Trick or treating early. I'm just gonna send 'em some pictures I guess."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he tries to comfort you, pulling you into his side as you both look on at the Halloween decorations littering the yard. "I know you wanted to share it with them."

"'S'okay," you smile a small smile, leaning into him. "I still had fun doing this with you. Thank you for your assistance," you add, fluttering your gaze up to meet his.

"Anytime. Anything to see that smile,” he adds, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your cheek, sending warmth through you at the affection.

“Guess we should get the candy ready,” you muse.

“And your costume on.”

“I didn’t pick anything,” you frown. “I don’t really feel like dressing up anyway. Besides,” you turn into him, “all the kids, and moms, are coming to see you,” you nudge him with a smirk on your lips.

He shakes his head, trying to fight his blush as he rolls his eyes at you. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

You laugh at the memory of your first week here; everyday was a new woman coming over under the guise of welcoming the new neighbors to the neighborhood. You knew after the second platter of unexpected cookies that word was spreading fast about a certain super soldier taking up residence in their lovely - and expensive - neighborhood; you had sworn to Bucky you didn’t need to move into a place so big, and a part of you was worried you wouldn’t be able to pull your weight financially if you did, but he swore he would prefer it. You didn’t necessarily believe that was his only reason for wanting to spend more on a nicer place, but how could you argue? Especially after he made it clear that he wouldn’t be accepting any money from you for rent. He let you connect your card for the monthly water bill, but that has been it. And you’re absolutely not complaining! But you don’t know you ever imagined this kind of thing would happen.

Until the very day you moved in, you were constantly thinking you were dreaming. But when you noticed the watchful eyes of the neighbors as you brought your boxes in, you realized it couldn’t be.

This was real.

You couldn’t blame their curiosity, but you could blame their forwardness. The way they fawned over Bucky in front of you - all the while ignoring your eye when they’d come over to introduce themselves - was both irksome and, kind of funny.

You only really started to get annoyed when you noticed how uncomfortable it was making Bucky. At the first sign of his discomfort, you found yourself ushering the door shut with a new, outlandish lie every time. But always thanking them for their treats, of course, as you’d close the door.

It’s been almost seven months since you moved in, and the fascination with Bucky has waned slightly, but has yet to fade completely.

“Never,” you laugh. “But it’s not like it’s a bad thing. You, my love," you take his face in your hands, his stubble rough against your palms, "are very, very handsome,” you murmur. “And mysterious, and brooding to the outside eye. It’s hard to ignore you. You're like a magnet of intrigue. It's sexy.”

“Sexy?” He huffs. “I’m not brooding.”

You scoff, “Hah, I wish you could see your face right now,” you say disbelieving; the irony of his words obvious as the furrow of his brows and his frown cause your lips to twitch in a soft smirk.

He fixes his face at your laugh, eyeing you with that ever familiar glimmer of growing want. His hands cover yours as he walks you back, closer to the house.

"So, you think I'm sexy?" he speaks lowly, his grip on you firm as he slides your hands from his face to his chest, down his thick torso as you watch him - your eyes growing heavy as you watch him. It's like you're in a trance.

Your back suddenly hits the front door and you're snapped out of your state, surprised by the contact and even more by the distance you've walked in what felt like a second.

"Yes," you utter after a second, Bucky pressing closer. "I do." Your fingers flex against his abdomen as he leans into you. His nose brushes yours as he teases you with the prospect of his kiss until the door unexpectedly opens behind you; Bucky having turned the knob with his metal hand from around you.

You gasp at the loss of contact with the door, inching back despite yourself - worrying for a split second you were about to find yourself on your ass. But in the same instant, Bucky's hands are around you, keeping you in place.

"I got you," he reassures you; voice deeper now than it was a second ago.

You can only nod as you’re caught once again in his crystal blue gaze.

You really should expect it when he picks you up, but you gasp anyway at his easy display of strength when he takes you off your feet and carries you inside.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have a costume, actually,” he says as he walks past the couch toward the stairs. “No need for you to be dressed.”

You nearly scream as Bucky bounds up the steps, holding you securely with a grin plastered on his face as you cling to him. Not a second later he’s walking you into the bedroom and setting you down carefully to sit on the bed.

“If we’re handing out candy, I’m gonna need to be dressed,” you point out the obvious, trying your best to not look so flustered as he stands in front of you. Tall, strong, and imposing; his eyes darkened as he holds your gaze. You take in a nervous breath as you look up at him and he takes a step closer. You lean back on your arms and wait for his next move.

Bucky slows gets to his knees before you and just as he reaches for your hips to pull you closer to him - there’s a knock on the front door.

He squeezes his eyes shut in his temporary disappointment, grimacing before he shoots up. “I knew that was gonna happen,” he sighs, earning a breathy laugh from you.

“Already got a better turnout than last year,” you offer despite your own momentary disappointment.

He shakes his head with a soft smile as he takes you in. “Nothing could ever beat the turnout last year,” he says thoughtfully, “not by a long shot.”

You smile softly at his meaning as he turns to head back downstairs and get the door.

You hear him open the kitchen cabinet where the candy bars are and then hear his ‘Happy Halloween’ greeting. By the sounds of it, there must be a group or two of trick or treaters already out there.

You ponder your options for a quick second before deciding to go with your gut. You know he won’t mind having to get the door himself tonight for all the trick or treaters - especially if you’re not dressed to do so yourself.

You open the middle drawer of your dresser and spot the red lingerie set instantly. It is your anniversary after all…

You and Bucky agreed to call November 1st your anniversary, just for celebration sake, but you know the truth.

Your thoughts catch up with you as you quickly strip and mindlessly slide on the lacy underwear and bra.

Your anniversary. Duh! You wondered why you hadn’t seen much of Bucky this week! He’s usually so attentive and when he’s not working on his bike or car or catching up on the many items of his list to read/watch/listen to, he’s wrapped up in you. Retiree life has been good to him, and you’ve never had to vie for his attention or affection. This week though, he has clearly been preoccupied. And now you realize why. He’s up to something…

You drag the stockings up your legs and pray they stay up your thick thighs for long enough as you hear the door downstairs shut. You curse under your breath but are quickly saved by another knock at the door before Bucky even heads back up the steps. You forget looking for the straps that connect the faux garter to the underwear and head for the bathroom to make sure you don’t look insane.

You fix your hair a bit, but the worn look suits the occasion and the slightly smudged liner adds to the sex appeal. You adjust the bra strap on your shoulder and a flicker of a smile forms on your lips. You look good. A renewed sense of giddy finds you as you spin to the door and walk back into the room. You listen for Bucky downstairs and are satisfied as you hear the last “thank you!” from the kids at the door.

You walk out into the hall and stop at the top of the staircase. You can see Bucky from where you stand and he’s able to see you from downstairs, too. You put a hand on the banister, posing just a bit as you wait patiently for him to turn around. You watch as he sets the bowl on the entryway table and turns quickly to get back upstairs.

He stops dead in his tracks the second he spots you. His mouth parting as he stares at your chest, slowly letting his eyes rove over your scantily clad curves and down your legs before he looks back up and meets your wanton gaze. The look of faux innocence playing on your face only riling him up more.

It feels like a play of cat and mouse as you stand at the top of the stairs and he stands at the bottom. His gaze heated, eyes hungry.

“You coming back up or should I meet you down there?” you ask demurely.

He’s cut off from answering you with a new knock on the door. He nearly growls and you could laugh at how differently his experience with trick or treaters - or lack there of - was last year.

Bucky turns back to get the door, putting on a smile as he greets the new group of kids and lets them choose what candy bar they’d like. For his part, he really is happy the neighborhood kids aren’t scared of him here! But at the same time, it’s technically his anniversary; and the love of his life is dressed in nothing more than his favorite lingerie, waiting for him so fucking prettily right up those stairs.

He doesn’t think much before making his decision. The last kid makes their choice and the group is on their way as he shuts the door. He heads into the kitchen, feeling you watch him quizzically. He tears a piece of paper off of the notepad on the counter and gets a sharpie from the kitchen drawer.

PLEASE TAKE ONE

He writes it in all caps and heads back to the door.

You lean more onto the banister to see what he’s doing from where you stand. You raise a brow as he moves the entryway table closer to the door before he opens it and sets it outside with the candy bowl sitting on top of it. That’s one way to do it, you think with a smile tugging at your lips.

Bucky slips the piece of paper under the edge of the bowl so it’s visible and then comes right back inside. He’s coming up the stairs within seconds and heading right for you.

You laugh in surprise as Bucky grabs you by the waist, pulling you close to him. His eyes are heavy as his hands squeeze you, wandering your curves. You almost moan when he grabs your ass, pulling you into him fully as you brace against his solid chest.

You’ll never get over how good it feels to be felt by him. His strength evident in his every touch, and yet so soft as he caresses you. His lips ghost your cheek and your ear as he breathes you in and you arch into him, wanting - needing more.

His fingers begin to play with the lace of your bra band, tickling you as he does. “My favorite,” he husks lowly, kissing your neck and sending a shiver through you as you pull at his shirt. “Special occasion?” he asks with a smirk.

Your hands find the waist of his pants, “None that I can think of,” you pretend to ponder.

You moan into him as Bucky suddenly kisses you hard. What you expect to be hot and fervent slows to something deeper and more intimate as you melt into him.

You inevitably have to pull away for air after a bit and murmur against his lips as he holds you, “Oh, right,” you breathe, “we have our anniversary.”

“Thought you wanted to call it tomorrow,” he smiles.

You lick your lip lightly with a shrug, “Couldn’t wait.”

His answer is another searing kiss as he walks you back toward the room. You’re pushed onto the bed and find yourself in the same position you were earlier, leaning back on your hands as you watch Bucky watching you.

He reaches down with one hand and undoes his belt effortlessly, popping his button and sliding down the zipper before he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, kicking off his boots right after. His pants are next before he closes in on you, crawling on top of you as you lay back on the bed, eyes still locked and dark with your mutual desire.

His hands trail from your hips, up the curve of your waist as he positions himself between your spread thighs.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you as he lets his eyes wander your body once more. He leans down and earns a breathy gasp from you as he starts placing soft kisses down your neck, your chest, over the tops of your breasts before he takes hold of the clasp of the bra sitting on your sternum.

He undoes it easy and pushes the cups to the side, revealing you to him. You sit up a bit to shimmy out of the garment and throw it off the bed. His large hands hold your breasts and he plays with you, squeezing and running his thumbs over your already peaked nipples - earning a pathetic mewl from you at the sensation it send through you. His lips wrap around your tit, tongue swirling around your sensitive nipple as he sucks at you, sending your eyes back and your hands grasping his grown out hair. Your lips parting in a silent gasp.

He licks and sucks at your tit, big hand playing with the other until he switches his attentions. All the while, your moans and tugs at his hair have him growing impossibly harder as his cock strains against his briefs.

He mindlessly grinds his hips against you and you whimper. “Please, Bucky,” you whine, trying to roll your hips against him in turn.

He sucks a little more on your tit before he moves down your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. You’re partly surprised he listened to your ambiguous plea without teasing you just a little longer, but as his fingers pull at the band of your underwear, you realize he’s just as desperate as you.

It has been a long week; the longest you’ve gone without each other in the year you’ve been together.

Bucky pulls away to rid himself of his briefs, his thick cock hard and angry. You can practically feel your mouth salivate as the slickness between your thighs grows. Fuck, he’s perfect.

“Need it, Buck. Need you,” you plead, spreading your thighs even further as he leans back into you.

“I know, sweetheart,” he teases his cock head along your slit, “gonna give it to you, baby. Gonna give you what you need,” he promises.

He lines himself up to your entrance, pushing his tip just inside of you as you moan on a heavy breath.

You hum your pleasure, a delighted smile gracing your lips as he slowly pushes further in; his deep, heady breaths turning you on even more as his hands grip your hips.

“Feel good, doll?” He husks. “You’re squeezin’ me so tight,” he grunts. “Perfect fuckin fit,” he grits through his clenched jaw as he fucks you, his thickness stretching you with every thrust of his cock. Your walls clench his length as you moan - the feeling of being full of him, of his heavy balls slapping against your skin, the way his dirty words always set you off more than you’d ever expect… This is pure fucking heaven. You can’t help yourself. It's not very long before you find yourself already feeling so dangerously close to your undoing.

“Like you were made for me,” he growls, “made to take my fat fuckin cock just. like. this.” He punctuates each of his last few words with a hard thrust, hitting so deep you swear you’re seeing stars. You can do nothing but babble your agreement as your hands wander his body, one wandering back into the dark strands of his hair.

As much as you love holding him, you know how much he likes the feeling of you tugging at his growing strands, too; so you do just that.

His lips brush along your jaw as you tilt your head for him. His stubble tickling you in the best way.

“Never gonna get over how fucking good you feel wrapped around me. How goddamn beautiful you look under me. Fucked out and cock drunk the minute I get my dick inside your tight little pussy. Always so fucking wet for me, desperate for it.”

You swear you’re on the verge of tears as the coil in your tummy tightens more and more with his every word. Your legs are around him as he rolls his hips into you, his cock brushing all the right spots as he finds your lips. You’re moaning into his hot mouth as he kisses you. In sharp contrast to his words, it’s soft and sweet, his nose rubbing against yours as he moves his tongue expertly. His teeth gently nip at your lips as he pulls his face away for a second before pressing his forehead to yours. His hands are tight on your hips as he tries to control himself from getting carried away. A week is just too long and you’re both already reaching closer and closer to your ends.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groans, sounding almost pained as his eyes squeeze shut, his thrusts growing the slightest bit erratic as you feel him tense above you.

“Come inside me,” you beg on a whimper. “Please, please,” you mewl. “Wanna feel you. Need it.”

The growl of curses that leave him as he fucks you deeper have your muscles tensing, your velvety walls clenching down around his length as the hair on his pelvis stimulates your sensitive clit with every roll of his hips. You’re a mess of moans and heady gasps as you cling to him, your body tight in the impossibly building pleasure as your toes curl and that coil finally snaps; white hot heat and sparks of overwhelming pleasure taking over you as you cum.

“Fuck,” Bucky moans, “that’s it, baby. So fuckin’ good. Look at you, so pretty coming for me,” he kisses you sloppily as your skin burns and your pussy flutters.

Your orgasm seems never ending as Bucky works you through it. His hands grasp at you, feeling your softness and bringing him closer to his own orgasm as your walls squeeze his cock while you cum.

His lips press to yours as he swallows your wanton sounds, kissing you hotly before licking into your mouth sensually. He keeps one hand on your hip to hold you where he needs you and brings the other to hold your face. He can’t get enough of your lips, your kiss, your taste. All the while rocking his hips into yours, his cock moving in and out of your slick, tight hole.

The pulsing of your sensitive walls around his length finally have him cumming hard. His seed hot and thick, spurting along your walls as he fills you up. Your name is both a curse and a prayer as it falls from his lips amidst sweet praises and filthy words. You’re panting and smiling through the growing overstimulation as Bucky’s thrusts slow but don’t completely stop just yet. His thumb brushes your cheek as he presses his forehead to yours again, his brilliant blue eyes glued to you before he leans in to brush his lips against yours.

You kiss him back, holding him to you with a hand still in his hair. Your kiss grows deeper as he thrust just once or twice more before stilling; his lips so soft as he slowly pulls away, breathing heavily.

He hisses so quietly you almost don’t hear it while he slides out of you at last, leaving you a dripping mess in his wake.

You stare at him as he looks entranced by the sight of your orgasms smeared all over you. You take a sharp breath as he gingerly brings two fingers to your cunt, slipping inside you easily and fucking what he can of his excess back into you. You expect him to stop but he just doesn’t.

He works his thick digits in and out, his mouth parted open and his eyes set on the way you suck him in so easily. You whine at the building pressure as he finger fucks you, already too close to another orgasm. Your hand is holding his strong arm as your eyes threaten to roll back.

“Bucky,” you whimper, “fuck, I’m gonna come again.”

Your words spur him on as he moves more precisely, hitting exactly where he knows you need him to. With his free hand, he brings his thumb to your clit and rubs in tight circles as your voice peaks and your legs shake. You’re nearly blinded by the orgasm as it hits you and the sound of Bucky cursing makes its way to your ears. You weren’t expecting it but as Bucky shakes his fingers inside you, prolonging your high like it’s the only thing in the world he’s concerned with - your pleasure, you - you realize you’re practically gushing as you squirt all over his fingers. You hear his voice but not his words as Bucky talks you through it.

It’s not the first time you’ve come so hard at his whim, but fuck, you’re exhausted as you slowly come down. You whimpered despite yourself as you open your eyes and Bucky gently slips out of you. He leans over you again as you gaze dizzily at him before he kisses you delicately.

“Did so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek before he gets up off the bed completely.

You lie there, trying to recoup and catch your breath until he comes back not long after, a pair of his sweats low on his hips and a damp cloth in his hand, a glass of water in the other.

He sets the glass down on the bedside table before tending to you. He wipes gently at the mess between your legs, cleaning you up with the warm cloth before discarding it with the clothes and coming to sit next to where you lay.

“You okay?” He asks, that ever present concern evident in his voice as his hands gently start to wander your soft body.

You smile and nod at him, taking one of his hands in yours. “Better than okay,” you simper. “Was not expecting that,” you add, “but god.” You sit up and cling to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “That’s one way to celebrate a year.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, turning to stand and pull you off the bed with him, “that wasn’t even the celebration.”

You smile and walk slowly to the closet to grab a night shirt, slipping it on before grabbing a pair of panties from your drawer. “I knew you were planning something,” you eye him playfully, coming up to wrap your arms around him.

He smirks, hugging you back for a second before just deciding to lift you up. “You get so cuddly after sex,” he laughs.

“Me?!” you laugh out, hugging onto him as he walks toward the door of your bedroom, “take a look in the mirror, buddy.”

“Fine,” he agrees, starting down the steps, “you’re right, we both do.”

“That’s just good compatibility,” you muse as he walks you into the den.

“Great compatibility,” he one ups. “It’s almost like,” he pauses a second, setting you down on the oversized sleeper chaise before he leans down to you, “we were made for each other.”

You lean up to meet his lips in a quick, gentle kiss. “Yeah,” you agree softly, a smile beginning to form on your lips. You bite your lip as you watch him go back out toward the front living room. He peeks out the window to make sure no one’s out there before he opens the door.

There's a pause as he takes in the scene outside...or lack thereof. “The candy’s gone!” He yells to you in disbelief.

You can’t help your snicker as he turns to look at you across the way, empty bowl in hand. He waves it, still seeming in shock; like this possibility never crossed his mind.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” you laugh, “but good thing you have like twelve more cases,” you remind him. He licks his lips as he stares at the empty bowl, shaking his head slightly. A second later, you see his brow raise as he starts to straighten up, but you aren't sure what he's reacting to until you hear her voice.

“Trick or treat,” a sultry voice comes from behind Bucky as he still stands at the open door. His eyes widen before he sighs, slowly turning to face the most persistent of his neighborly admirers.

You quirk a brow at her lack of company and strain to hear better.

“Sorry to bother,” she smiles, eyes dragging down Bucky’s solid - still shirtless - chest before she manages to rein herself in and snap her gaze back up to his. “I’m in the middle of mixing up some cookie dough but I ran out of flour. Paul and Michael are busy running their fun house or I’d have them go grab me a bag. Do you think you’d be able to lend me a cup?” You are slightly irked at the change of tone in her last question. She sounds flirty and though Bucky is mostly blocking her from your view, from what you can see, it seems like she’s leaning in closer to him. “We just had a rush of trick or treaters but it’s so quiet around here now. Paul’s so preoccupied with that set up though, I don’t even think he’d notice if I went missing,” she laughs, her toothy grin rubbing you the wrong way as her lashes flutter.

“Uh,” Bucky clears his throat awkwardly, “yeah, we probably have some flour we can spare. Give me a minute.”

“Oh, yo-“ she takes a step forward with her words but is cut off by the closing of the door.

You get up with a tilt of your head and follow Bucky into the kitchen quickly. “Did she just hit on you?” you ask incredulously.

Bucky eyes you as he sets the empty bowl on the counter and walks to the cabinet. “I could see how you could think that,” he avoids a real answer through his embarrassment.

You huff a laugh, walking to the drawer you keep the measuring cups in, grabbing the cup, smirking. “She is somethin’ else.” You sidle up to Bucky as he opens the jar of flour. You lean into him, holding out the cup for him to take, “But, I guess, who can blame her? You know what they say, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

Bucky chuckles with a roll of his eyes as he grabs it from you, scooping up the cup of flour. You’re confused as he tries to hand the cup back to you.

“What?”

“Go give it to her,” he nudges you.

“I’m not wearing pants,” you state the obvious.

“I don’t have a shirt on,” he argues.

“She already saw you,” you nudge him back with a titter.

“Please,” he breathes a light laugh, but you see the seriousness of his request in his eyes. His discomfort is evident, and you don’t know how you didn’t recognize it earlier.

You don’t know everything he went through, but you know enough to know how important Bucky’s privacy is to him - and that includes physically. He is the only one who should be able to decide who sees him, when, and how much of him they see. Of course, no one should be treated like an object, but you get the feeling it can feel a lot worse for Bucky than it can for the typical person.

You take the cup with a soft smile, “Okay, yeah,” you acquiesce. “You should open another box while you’re at it,” you nod toward the cabinet where the boxes of candy bars are before turning around to get the door.

You open it with a smile, trying to hide your bare legs with the door as you hold out the cup of flour. “There you go,” you offer.

“Oh! I didn’t, ha-“ she laughs lightly, “didn’t even realize you were home.” She looks down, moving some hair behind her ears before she reaches for the cup.

You smile brighter as you take a step from behind the door. “Yeah,” you say simply. What the hell does she mean she didn't think you were home?

“Well, thank you,” she smiles tightly, trying to not look at your bare legs. The implication of your and Bucky’s lack of clothing, his messed hair, and your smudged makeup all hanging in the air. “Happy Halloween,” she adds before turning around and heading back down the path.

“Mhm, Happy Halloween,” you return before shutting the door. Unbelievable. But you know you have less than nothing to worry about, so you let it go. Hopefully this interaction will finally be the one to get her off of Bucky's back.

You spin around and find Bucky behind you, eyes having been set on your ass as he holds the newly filled bowl of candy. His eyes shoot up to meet yours as you deprive him of the view. That heated gaze back in his ice blue eyes as he trails up and down your body again.

“See something you like?” You ask teasingly, popping a hip as you cross one leg in front of the other.

“Not something,” he swipes his tongue against his bottom lip unthinking, “everything.”

You go closer to him, a soft, flattered smile in place as you take the bowl of candy from him. “Why don’t you go pick a movie, and I’ll start on dinner in a minute.”

“I already ordered delivery, should be here in about half an hour.”

“Oh?” you raise a brow, reaching back to the door to put out the candy again.

“Mhm,” he hums, his hand in his pocket as he leans, watching you as you close the door shut and turn back to him.

“I thought you said we’d do whatever I wanna do tonight?”

“‘M sorry, doll,” he reaches a hand to you that you take, letting him tug you into him and walk you back into the den. “What do you wanna do?”

You try to bite down your smile as you get to the chaise, Bucky turning to look at you as he waits for your answer. You take the opportunity to slowly push him back, essentially guiding him down as your push had no real physical effect. He watches you with curious, patient eyes as he lets you lead until you bring yourself up to straddle him; his gaze darkening instantly as his hands find your waist, slowly feeling you down, fingers kneading your soft, plushy curves as he wanders down your hips, making his way to grabbing your ass.

You settle a little more comfortably on top of him, your hands on his chest before letting your fingers dance all over his thick torso. You smile, letting yourself answer simply and honestly.

“You.”

—

You’re cuddled up to Bucky as you lay on the chaise, bellies full and feeling satiated and satisfied - in every way. The blanket keeps you warm, but being this close to Bucky keeps you even warmer. You’ve run out of candy, and the porch lights are out as the Halloween classic plays on the screen before you - volume low as you and Bucky talk more than you watch the film.

“It’s kinda crazy when you think about it,” you say. “We’ve been together for essentially the entire time we’ve known each other. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten tired of me yet,” you laugh a little at yourself.

He looks you deep in the eye, a confused half smile on his lips as his brows furrow ever so slightly. “How could I ever get tired of you? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, doll.”

You are taken aback, despite the commonplace of his adamant affection and feelings, at the intense sincerity of his words, the way he’s looking at you. Like he sees you.

Really see you.

Because he does. And somehow, for whatever reason…

“I love you,” he whispers, completing your thought without knowing it as he leans in to kiss you. Your noses brush as he kisses you softly, slow and delicate before it grows just that much deeper. You slow again and with a few lighter kisses, finally part to breathe properly, though you never leave his embrace.

“I’ve had a year with you,” he speaks softly, running his fingers up and down your arm, “and it’s been one of the best years of my life,” he measures his words before finishing his thought as you gaze up at him, “because of you. And I think I’m gonna need a lifetime more,” he decides, “at least.”

You can’t help your smile at his words as you nuzzle into him. “A lifetime, huh? ...I think I could be okay with that,” you say lowly, a teasing tone edging in your words.

You know you’d be okay with that.

Bucky’s heart skips a beat at your agreement and he grows a bit more excited for what he has planned for tomorrow. It all starts with breakfast, and if things go right, it’ll end with one very important question.

“Happy anniversary, Bucky,” you mumble into him as your eyes grow heavy. “I love you. So much. This has been a really perfect night,” you smile softly.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he kisses your head, holding you closer as you slowly drift off in his loving embrace.

Your gentle breathing calms the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of tomorrow. Any nerves can wait until then.

It’s been a year, and now he can’t wait for the rest of his life.

With you.

—-

a/n that no one asked for: thank you so much for reading! getting ahead of this now - there will not be a part three. this took so long to get through and i just can’t commit to any more sequels of anything. 😭 you are, of course, free to head canon what comes next however you’d like! though if you’re curious, in my mind these two get engaged the next day and idk maybe sometime around Christmas they find out they’re pregnant? but babies or no babies, work works out for reader and everything is good and lovely and they make friends and are able to see family more often and blah blah blah they live happily ever after! lol again, thank you very much for reading!🥰 let me know if you enjoyed it, feel free to share your thoughts. <3

[rhiannonsknife]

oh i am OBSESSED with that detective!r and rhiannon fic... if you don't mind i have Thoughts about it

it's a little different from what you proposed but detective!r who doesn't know rhiannon but rhiannon knows you... she always comes back to the scene of the crime and lately she's been noticing this pesky little detective sticking your nose where you don't belong

so, she does some research. and by god, she's obsessed with you

she's stopped killing people for her own personal reasons - she's completely consumed with killing to see your reaction, the way you curse out the killer under your breath every time you see a new body

when she starts writing your name in blood at the scene, you know that you're in far too deep to go back

to make it even better, you've tried interrogating her. she was one of your most pleasant witnesses and she even offered to take you out to get coffee. the whole time you were there with her, she was so sweet and so kind, offering to pay for both of your orders. she couldn't have anything to do with it; she was just an innocent girl who was caught in the crosshairs of this gruesome serial killer. right? right?

need her so effing bad UGHHH -🪐

— warnings: canon typical violence/dark content. obsessive!rhiannon & possessive!rhiannon. gn!reader. some suggestive content. didn’t beta read (as always).

— a/n: this ask had me thinking omfg.

rhiannon who gets obsessed with you the moment she first sees you.

it all starts the moment she first sees you at the scene of her latest kill. she tends to linger, to watch from afar to see how the investigation is coming along. it’s not like people tend to pay attention to rhiannon’s presence anyway, so she’s comfortable to stay and see what’ll happen. you’re different from the other detectives, she instantly senses that. and, oh, how she hates it -at first. you’re clearly underestimated by your colleagues, despite the fact that you’re much better and smarter than all of them combined. you catch details others are unaware of until you point them out with an intensity rhiannon hadn’t expected. for the first time ever, she feels a thrill from something other than killing.

that night, she spends hours researching all that she can find out about you.

sprawled out on her couch, rhiannon spends hours combing through your social media, any public records, and every small mention of your life she can find online. by the end of it, she knows your favorite coffee shop, the route you take to work, and even the way you laugh, thanks to an obscure interview clip she found buried online. she imagines what it would be like to meet you in a “normal” setting. just two strangers talking over coffee. she imagines all sorts of scenarios, picturing countless ways of how she could get you to notice her. but that’s not enough. she needs more.

rhiannon who starts killing for you.

before she 'met' you, she'd been killing for her own satisfaction the most of all: murdering people who wronged her, people who continue to underestimate her, who pretend like she's not there at all 90% of the time. that is until she meets you. once she has gathered enough information about you and has learned that you are the one who's taking over the investigation of her murder case, she makes it her mission for you to see her. she's consumed by the idea of murdering for you.

obviously, you can't figure out that it's her. but she can still very much get your attention:

when you start to find your name scrawled in blood at multiple crime scenes, your stomach twists. you don’t know if it’s taunting or a bizarre kind of flirtation, but you can’t shake the feeling that this killer has an extremely personal fixation on you. rhiannon finds a sick satisfaction in knowing that she’s the only one who truly understands you. and that soon, you’ll understand her, too.

rhiannon, whose obsession only gets worse.

she starts following you around, whether it's by walking after you at a safe distance or by driving her dad's truck. only being in your presence thrills her. she can't think of anything that's not the next kill and what she can leave behind for you at the crime scene this time. after a while, you start to receive anonymous letters at your home. they’re handwritten, sweet, and yet filled with hints that leave a chill down your spine: each one contains personal details only someone very close (or very obsessed) would know. you start to dread going home alone each night, wondering if the killer is watching even then.

and, still, you're determined to catch this killer.

it's almost like you're just as obsessed with solving this case: you work relentlessly and stay in for much longer than anyone would ever know, sometimes running on no sleep at all just to try and connect the dots that are scattered all across your hometown in from of bloody crime scenes. once, while working late, you glance up from your desk to find somebody outside the station, watching through the window. it's just a silhouette that waves and, before you can react, turns and disappears into the shadows.

she makes watching you from afar a habit she can't seem to shake off:

hidden in plain sight, she watches you work a scene, observing your expressions as you piece together clues she’s laid just for you. the way you curse under your breath or tense at a particularly dark detail excites her; it’s like she’s guiding you through a personal maze, she’s drawing you closer with every carefully crafted move.

rhiannon, who even goes as far as to leave gifts for you right at your doorstep.

they’re seemingly innocent items: flowers, trinkets, chocolates...always with notes like “you looked tired today” or “thought you’d like this.” but you know better. there’s nothing innocent about these gestures; they’re reminders that she’s closer than you think. in one of her letters, she writes: “every kill is for you.” the revelation is twisted, sick even, but the obsessive way she describes her admiration for you leaves you feeling trapped in her gaze. you start to wonder if this chase will end only when she’s taken everything from you. or if you’ll end up her final victim.

at this rate, she catches feelings for you before she even knows what's happening to her:

she follows you on a night out, intrigued by how you relax away from work. when you laugh with friends, she feels a strange jealousy toward anyone who’s close to you. to rhiannon, this outing feels like an unofficial date, watching you from a corner as if she’s already a part of your life. later, she imagines herself sitting beside you, whispering her secrets in your ear, knowing she could charm you if given the chance.

rhiannon, whose obsession which was originally supposed to be a cat-and-mouse game that she was in control over, turns into a sense of possessiveness.

alone in her room, she whispers your name just to hear the sound of it aloud. she fantasizes about how you’d react if you knew she’d been studying you so closely if you knew that every kill from here on out was a twisted attempt to draw you closer. rhiannon, who somehow steals something from you, whether it is by sneaking into your home whilst you're out or by reaching into your purse in passing. either way, she uses it, later that same night, when she's home alone and dares to touch herself to the thought of you. she finds herself almost longing for you to figure it out, to see her completely. she’s begun to view each kill as a love letter, a message only you can fully understand, and in some dark corner of her mind, she starts to believe you might actually feel the same way.

but even that is not enough for her. she wants you to know her. to look at her, without the slightest clue who's really in front of you.

so, rhiannon plays the role of the clueless witness: after a particularly grisly scene, she shows up at the station, pretending to have seen something, and strikes up a surprisingly casual conversation with you. she even convinces you to take a break for coffee: she offers to buy, her voice light and friendly, as if she’s not the very person keeping you up at night.

rhiannon, who starts accidentally running into you.

she begins appearing in unexpected places: your favorite bookstore, the cafe near your precinct, and even outside the gym. she plays it off like coincidence, but you can’t shake the feeling she’s watching you. every “chance” encounter leaves you more on edge, especially as her excuses get flimsier, her curiosity too intense for a stranger. her gaze lingers just a bit too long, and she throws out casual details she should never know about you. but then again, there's no way this innocent woman could ever be responsible for all these gruesome crimes, right...?

you brush off these suspicions, not really believing that rhiannon could be capable of these murders.

and still, during another coffee date (which become a habit between the two of you) she drops a casual line, mentioning a detail about your personal life you never told her: maybe the nickname your family used or an obscure detail about your childhood. when you press her about it, she insists that she read it somewhere or “just remembered” from one of your conversations. but her gaze lingers, enjoying how much she’s unsettling you.

rhiannon, who starts acting possessive over you without really noticing it herself.

out in public, she lets her fingers brush against yours. she’ll throw an arm around you casually, especially when she notices other people noticing. to rhiannon, it’s a game of establishing her claim, marking her territory.

after some time, she finally invites you to her place, claiming she wants to “return the favor” of all your coffee dates.

when you arrive, the atmosphere is too perfect, too staged, with dim lighting and chillingly specific music playing softly. every word she says feels more like a veiled confession, every look a taunt as she watches you grapple with the tension between attraction and horror. it’s not until you see a framed newspaper clipping of one of her murders in the hall that you realize she wanted you here for more than a simple dinner...

[kiyomitakada]

some lawlight-kiyomisa parallels (well technically lightlaw to make the names line up):

god of the new world/god of the old world

the inherent romanticism of stealing someone's title (L, the second kira)

obsession

homicidal intent ("i'll kill him. with my hands if i have to" / "if amane knows about the secret isn't it dangerous for her to roam about?") (kiyo's more refined about it. but light very much notices it's a death threat)

homoerotic cake eating session

obsession

seeing the relationship as a game to play (obvious on lawlight's part / "misa-misa, are you okay?" "of course i am! i won!")

you look at my calm smiling unbothered mask of a face and tear it off me as easily as wrapping paper and draw out the worst of the cruelty i have worked so hard to hide and i hate you for it i hate you for it why can't you just be normal? why can't you just play by the rules? how?

obsession.

[amscraypunk]

Prince Race and blacksmith Spot my BELOVEDS!

Art by the incredibly talented @tankunionion ! If you need me I'll be crying forever about this thanks

[redvexillum]

Oh my god, where do I even begin with this!? I am literally weak right now. 😱

The tension, the intensity—everything is just on fire.🔥 From the delicious build-up to the downright insatiable chemistry between the characters, I am beyond obsessed with how freaking hot this whole scene is.

The way the power dynamics shift and the way Adam is constantly in control but also gives you just enough of a push to go further and further into that delicious, maddening spiral is EVERYTHING. 🙌 The tension before the first orgasm? Jaw-dropping. The way Adam's touch is described, so possessive and demanding? Can't breathe. The utter desperation and rawness of his movements as he loses all control… 🥵 And your reactions? Insanely good. LIKE OMFG! AMAZING INCREDIBLE AWESOME WRITING!!!!!!!

But can we talk about the intimate details? The way you’re so into each other—like, not just physically, but emotionally too. The tenderness after the explosive moments, where the hard edges soften into something almost sweet? Chef's kiss. 👏 I’m loving how the scene balances that roughness with softness, showing a deeper connection even while everything is so raw and heated.

And I seriously adore that you’re both caught up in the moment, but then, like, “Oh, I’m late for work?” and boom, you casually drop that you’ll just lie about it. 🤣 The perfect mix of playful and spicy, I just cannot handle this! The chemistry is next-level and so addictive.

“ No Strings Attached . . . „

“ I'll have you begging for more . . . „

synopsis ┊ ◜ You always dreamed of having a family of your own; the loving spouse, a couple of kids, maybe a pet or two - the whole nine yards. After spending years being unable to find a suitable match, and with your biological clock ticking, you decide to cut out the loving spouse and skip straight ahead to parenthood on your own. But when you discover how expensive alternative family planning methods can be, you're convinced by a friend to let a donor impregnate you the old-fashioned way - no strings attached . . . ◞ wc ┊ ◜ 6,817 ◞ warnings ┊ ◜ Adam x Reader ✧ Afab!Reader ✧ No pronouns or Y/N used ✧ Human!AU ✧ Explicit / 18+ Only / MDNI ✧ Sexual situations ✧ Breeding kink ✧ Dirty talk (you will never convince me that Adam is the quiet type in bed) ✧ Unprotected sex ✧ Creampie ✧ Prostitution (if you squint real hard) ✧ Teeny mentions of roofies and sexual assault (dialogue only; no actions) ✧ Sexting ✧ Vaginal fingering◞ notes ┊ ◜ I had so much trouble trying to figure out who fit this prompt best, and as much as I would love to have a bit more variety in my fics, my heart keeps leading me back to Adam. Go check out our masterlist and be sure to show how much you appreciate all the hard work my lovely wives are putting into this collab~! They're working their asses off to feed us so well - let them know how thankful you are for their dedication to the provisions of our wet dreams~! <3 ◞ links ┊ ◜ syn's masterlist ✧ coven kinktober 2024 ◞

"... and then this fucktard decides he's gonna hop up on stage and try to take my guitar from me in the middle of my fucking set!"

The loud exclamation had you looking around the restaurant, searching for its origin when you noticed the silvery coiffure of your friend at the end of the bar. You raised your hand up in hopes of catching her attention as you tried to squeeze through the small crowd, the buzzing noise of multiple conversations going on all at once drowning out the anxious thoughts racing through your head. "Lute, hey!" you called, weaving around tables and bodies alike when you realized that she wasn't alone.

Sitting on one of the stools was your long-time friend, Lute, and a rather stout, burly looking man in the adjacent seat. Even sitting, it was obvious he was tall, especially when compared to the much smaller frame of your friend. He had a sharp face, his jaw chiseled and nose straight, with skin smooth and free of blemishes save for the cropped patch of facial hair on his pointed chin. His tousled hair was a soft walnut brown, a short shag cut slicked back with a few loose strands hanging down over his forehead. His smile was wide, thin lips stretching across a straight row of pearly white teeth, with lines that told a story of a man that laughed and smiled often.

And his eyes - oh, those eyes. They were narrowed with a hunter's shape, a deep hazel brown with flecks of gold that beckoned you closer with nothing more than a wink and a smile the moment you caught his attention.

By all accounts, he was an attractive man. Under different circumstances, you would have asked Lute to set you up on a legitimate date, see if his personality was as smooth as his appearance.

The closer your feet dragged you to the table, the quicker your heart began to beat at the thought of going through with this. Swallowing hard, you had half a mind to turn right around and walk out, to back out of this meeting she had set up for you and go back to your original plan of finding a suitable life partner. But the thought of going through another string of first dates with someone giving you back-handed compliments all night helped you to steel your resolve and follow through.

"There you are. I was starting to wonder if you were going to show up or not," Lute spoke, pulling you from your thoughts as you approached the bar, heart pounding in your ears as you clutched the strap of your bag close.

"Huh? O-oh, yeah. Right... Sorry, traffic was a bitch. I left fifteen minutes early, but there was an accident on the freeway, so it was very stop and go for a while," you explained with a sheepish grin, sliding your bag over your head and slipping onto the stool next to Lute.

"Oh, tell me about it. I live near Main, ain't no such thing as calm in that hellhole. Always gotta leave at least thirty minutes sooner just to get out of the area," the man spoke, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "And that's on foot. Don't even think about it if you're in a fucking car. Trying to drive down there is a total shit show."

You laughed, silently cursing yourself for your subconscious desire for pathological niceties as you waited to be introduced, anxiety levels making it near impossible for you to say anything else in that moment.

"Yeah, yeah, traffic sucks, whatever," Lute dismissed the topic quickly, pointing a finger at Adam while staring at you. "This is Adam, my boss. He's the guy I was telling you about," she introduced him to you, then you to him as the bartender set a row of three shots down in front of her.

Reaching a hand across Lute, Adam flashed you a cocky smile as you shook it up and down. "Nice to meet ya," he said, reaching for one of the shots and downing it quickly before your friend could protest. Glaring harshly at the much larger man, Lute picked up the remaining two shots and threw them both back before standing up. "Can't believe I set this shit up. Both of you owe me big time," she said, voice laced with annoyance before turning around to make her exit and leaving you flabbergasted at the curt audacity.

You watched as she walked out of the restaurant, the bustle of patrons and work-staff soon swallowing her figure and shielding her from your line of sight. Biting into your bottom lip, you shyly turned back to Adam, unsure of where to begin.

"Well then," he started, shaking his head as you moved to the stool Lute had previously occupied. "I can't say her behavior is surprising. She's always been like that - very short and to the point. Can't say I blame her though; this is a weird ass topic to play third wheel to."

"Hah! Yeah, she can be a real bitch sometimes, but she's still good people. Just... very blunt," you responded, watching as he twisted back and forth on the stool, almost like a child playing with a swivel chair. It was a cute scene, especially for someone with such a no-nonsense type of appearance. Adam raised a hand to call the bartender back over before turning back to you, nodding his head to the assortment of liquors behind the bar. "What'cha drinking? My treat."

"Oh, I'm not drinking," you started. "I can't anyway. I don't have anyone to come pick me up," you explained with a sheepish grin, to which Adam rolled his eyes once more and turned to look at the person on the other side of the bar. "Don't worry about that shit, babe. I'll pay for a taxi if you get too wasted," he reassured you, flashing you a charming smile before ordering a drink you'd never heard of before. It must have been a specialty at this place.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from protesting. As much as you wanted this meeting to be purely transactional, the nature of the topic at hand had frayed every single one of your nerves and left you feeling too embarrassed to look him in the eye - a drink could come in handy and make things a little less awkward. When the bartender set the unknown drink before you, Adam raised a single brow at the uncertainty ever present on your soft features as you simply eyed the glass, leaning forward just enough for you to catch him in your peripheral vision.

"What's the matter? You think I'm gonna try to drug you or take advantage of you?" he asked as you continued to weigh the pros and cons of having a drink with your potential sperm donor. You couldn't help but laugh at the idea of him attempting to slip you something. It was probably a naive thing for you to do by assuming a complete stranger wouldn't try to harm you just because you were here to discuss a deal bordering on prostitution. But Lute had assured you again and again during the days leading up to this meeting that Adam wasn't that type of guy - he was a douche without a filter, sure, but forcing himself on someone while they were vulnerable wasn't his style.

"No. There's no point in doing any of that," waving a hand in the air to dismiss the notion as you reached for the cocktail he had ordered for you, taking a small swig from the glass. "Besides, if Lute trusts you, then you're good in my book."

Adam nodded his head, his grin widening a bit as he placed a hand on his chest. "You flatter me, babe. Where has she been hiding such a pretty little thing like you?" he flirted, eyeing you up and down momentarily as you set the drink down after you remembered why you were here in the first place. Reaching into your bag to pull out a vanilla folder and sliding it to him, you didn't beat around the bush, pushing aside social conventions of small talk and pleasantries. This meeting was meant to be strictly business in nature, so the less words you exchanged with each other, the better. "No small talk? Right down to business, I see. No wonder you two're friends," he added as he reached for the similar looking file sitting on top of the bar.

"Yeah, sorry. I've wasted too much time in the dating pool with nothing to show for it. I'd rather just skip that part now."

"Hey, it's all good. I get it," Adam raised his hands defensively for a moment before pulling out the pre-drafted contract you had passed him and skimming over the first page. He never really bothered to read these things - the legalize was always so confusing, and even when he did read it, his chances of understanding any of it was very low. "Saves me the trouble of trying to impress you to get into your pants later," he joked, to which you laughed back.

Already you were beginning to feel at ease around Adam - though you weren't sure if it was because of his apparent easy-going personality or the drink you were nursing, its fruity taste lingering on the tip of your tongue after each sip. He seemed nice enough. Maybe getting to know him wouldn't be so bad.

'Nope. This isn't a date, date. Can't let myself get distracted,' you told yourself as you pulled the contents of his records out to go over them, searching for the other shoe before it had a chance to drop. Things never went this smoothly for you - if they did, you wouldn't be here trying to pay a complete stranger to fuck a baby into you. Part of you hoped there wasn't one, but experience had taught you there always was - it was more about how big said shoe was going to be. And, based on his looks and his charismatic personality (or what you've seen of it, anyway), it had to be a pretty damn big one.

"So, that's all the medical documents you needed to see. Genetic test results, family history, my last physical, sperm count and all that shit, blah blah blah," Adam explained, waving his hand in the air as he flipped to the next page of the contract. From what he was able to understand so far, there was nothing in it that he had a problem with.

It was a pretty cut and dry contract, detailing the transaction and individual responsibilities of each party along with waivers to parental rights and financial liabilities, dates for when conception should be attempted and how often it should occur. "Everything's looking good over here so far- ... wow, you're a retired veteran? I would have never pegged you for the commander type, you seem so chill," you spoke, glancing up from the paperwork when Adam chuckled at your response.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. It's been years since I was honorably discharged though, so I've had some time to fall out of the stricter regime of military life," Adam explained to you as he flipped to the third page, skimming over the first couple of paragraphs when his eyes zeroed in on one particular clause. Turning to you, he leaned in closer and pointed at the section in question. "You said you wanted this to be a no strings attached type of thing, but this part's gonna make it really fucking boring. The sex is the fun part, so why put restrictions like no foreplay or kissing?" he asked, his voice just a tad louder than necessary and calling the attention of a couple nearby.

Your cheeks heated up when you noticed them staring, lowering your head as you leaned even closer to Adam and whispered, "Shh, keep it down! It's just to make sure things don't get too complicated, is all," you explained, bringing the papers up to hide your face before continuing on. "And besides, I've never had a partner that's made me... you know..." you trailed off shyly, face burning even hotter when you noticed the smirk now plastered on his chiseled features and his laughter flooded your ears, cursing yourself for agreeing to do this in public.

"What's so funny?" you asked when, even after several seconds, his laughter showed no signs of dying down. The embarrassment of such a revelation as well as his laughing was beginning to sting, and the eyes you could feel were glued to your back only made it that much worse. Setting the papers down on the bar top, Adam covered his mouth with one hand and waved the other in the air, trying to stifle his laughter before you could walk out on him then and there.

"I'm sorry, really. I'm not laughing at you, I promise. I'm laughing at those fucking losers that couldn't get you off. It's just- it's so fucking sad," he said in between each breath, his laughter finally dying out before he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning closer so that only you could hear him this time. "Because if it were me, I wouldn't have let you leave the bed until I made you cum on my face at least three times," his voice low and husky, his smirk wide and arrogant as he pulled away. Bringing a hand up to rest his chin against his palm, Adam discreetly stuck his tongue out between two fingers and rapidly wiggled the tip up and down when no one was looking, reveling in the squeak you let out as you tried to cover your face once more.

"Oh my god," you mumbled, hiding your crimson red face behind the documents he had provided you, rubbing your thighs together for some much-needed friction as a damp wetness began to pool between your legs. Adam stared at you for a couple more seconds before he reached for the nearby pen you had clipped to the vanilla envelope. "Save the flattery for after I've made you see heaven, babe," he told you, drawing a line through that particular clause. He then reached for the papers you were hiding behind, pulling them down until they rested flat on the bar top and scribbled something at the top of the page you had been reading.

"Here's my number; I can get yours from Lute. I'll have a lawyer look this over, and we can meet up to make it official after," he promised, handing the pen back to you before leaning in to place a lingering kiss to your left cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your mouth. With another wink of his golden flecked hues, Adam stood up to his full height, giving you a complete idea of just how massive he actually was while tossing some money down for both the drinks and the taxi he had promised you, turning to leave a couple seconds later.

"Be seeing you real soon, sweetheart."

...

Wait, what just happened?

A couple of weeks had gone by since your first meeting, and you had yet to hear from Adam. You couldn't keep him off your mind after that day at the bar, the way he looked at you and how he spoke, his voice thick with honey as he promised to make you see heaven over and over again. Anxious for the contract signing and curious to see if he really could, you found yourself scrolling through his social media during your down time and typing out lengthy messages detailing everything you wanted him to do to you with lewd photos of yourself attached, only to delete it all before pressing send.

With each day that passed, your desire to see him again was getting stronger, turning more desperate with every night he appeared in your dreams. It was becoming borderline obsessive, but it never went further than staring at his picture or watching videos of him when you were touching yourself, imagining it was his hands that were pleasuring you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he pounded into you from behind.

It was ridiculous how easily he managed to wrap you around his finger with just a single line and a wink.

Even now, sitting at your work desk and filling out paperwork, you found Adam worming his way to the front of your mind, sapping your concentration as the voices of your coworkers went in one ear and out the other. Eventually, the words you were writing began to shift to illegible scribbles as you closed your eyes, wondering what he could be doing right now. You felt a sharp pang in your chest when you considered the idea he may have lost interest in your deal, and that was why he hasn't contacted you yet.

Sighing heavily, you slammed your pen down on the desk and reached for your phone, finding his contact immediately. Your patience was running thin at this point. If he did lose interest, why didn't he at the very least message you so that you didn't dwell on him any longer? The whole point of this was to beat the clock, and he was wasting your precious time with his radio silence. And on top of that, you were ovulating, your hormones running rampant and leaving you in a perpetual state of emotional chaos. Ready to give him a piece of your mind, you began to type away furiously while struggling to hold back your tears, teeth sinking into the side of your cheek and leg bouncing rapidly beneath your desk.

But just as you were about to press send, your phone beeped, a new message from Adam popping up as your finger hovered over the send button. Part of you wanted to send the message anyway and not bother to hear his explanation for his ghosting you, but as per usual, your hormones seemed to run the show during this stage in your cycle. You couldn't help yourself.

Scrolling up until the text box was just a singular line, you checked the message he had just sent you. When you opened the attachment, you slammed your phone down the second you saw the picture, making your nearby coworkers jump at the sudden noise. "... You okay?" one asked after a few seconds of silence passed and you hadn't made a single attempt to explain your sudden movements yet. Bringing a hand up to cover your mouth, you nodded slowly as you looked down, wrapping an arm around your lower abdomen as you tried to play it off as menstrual cramps.

"I'm okay! Just cramping a bit, I think I might be on my period," you hurriedly explained as you reached for your purse, not sparing another second for them to ask further questions as you rushed off to the bathroom. "I'm going to lunch! Be back soon!" you exclaimed, your words barely reaching the rest of the group as you had already put a considerable amount of distance between you in your rush for privacy.

Once you reached the bathroom and locked yourself inside one of the privacy stalls, you unlocked your phone again to get a better look at the picture Adam had sent you. Heart pounding in your ears and heat pooling within the gusset of your panties, you studied the shape of his nude body, cursing the redrafted contract he had used to cover up his cock, that arrogant crooked smirk that has haunted your dreams present as he looked directly into the camera.

A: Lawyer's done reviewing the contract. U ready to sign? 😘

With a whine, you hastily deleted your lengthy rage fueled rant from before, instead choosing to send a much shorter response,

Y: Yes!! When and where?? ❤️‍🔥 A: Are you free rn??? I can meet u at the notary's office in 20 Y: Sounds good!! Just went on break, be there soon!

You couldn't control the excited squeal that escaped your throat as you reached for the lock on the stall. Before you could unlock the door though, you stepped back and set both your purse and phone down on the mounted toilet paper rack.

Without thinking about it at all, you reached to pull your hair down and undo your shirt to reveal the lace bra you wore underneath and bunching your skirt around your waist so that your matching panties were showing as well. You picked your phone back up and opened your camera, trying not to think about it so as to avoid losing the confidence to follow through on teasing him back. You took a few snapshots of your scantily clad figure - squeezing your breast in one; dipping your hand beneath the fabric of your panties in another; and taking a few of your bare pussy for good measure, careful not to show your whole face in any of them.

Before you could change your mind, you sent a couple of the best shots you were able to get, setting your phone back down the second the 'sent' note popped up above the images. As you were redressing yourself and raking your hands through your hair to pull it back up, your phone dinged with a new message from Adam lighting up the screen.

A: 🍆💦💦💦 A: Fuck that's hot A: Want you to shove your tits in my face while you ride my dick A: Gonna stuff that pretty pussy so full with my cum baby

Your phone dinged again at the arrival of a new message with an attachment - a video this time. Reaching for your purse, you searched for the earbuds you carried with you, quickly popping them in after making sure the bluetooth was connected and the audio wouldn't play out loud before you opened the attachment.

Slapping a hand over your mouth to stifle a moan of excitement, you watched as Adam slowly pumped his hand along his girth, using the precum that dribbled from his tip as a lubricant, breathy moans coming through your earbuds and making your heart race. If you weren't on a clock right now, you would have stripped back down and fired back with a video of your own.

Unfortunately, you were at work, and in the public bathroom no less. You couldn't do something like that here, lest someone walk in and hear the noises you would make just to torture him a bit more.

Y: Promise? 🥺 A: Ofc ❤️‍🔥 Hurry up and get here. Can't wait much longer, need to feel your pussy gush on my cock Y: omw 🫦💦

You had never sprinted to a car so fast in your adult life.

"... Alright, everything looks to be in order. You both signed, initialed, showed your IDs," the notary seemed to drone on forever, her voice high and nasally as you squirmed in your chair, anxious to get through the signing process. Adam didn't seem bothered at all as he sat next to you, face calm and collected save for that ever-present smirk of his that had you biting your own tongue to keep yourself from shoving it down his throat.

Adam would steal glances at you, winking whenever he managed to catch you staring as he drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair, foot tapping to the beat of the song playing in the back of his mind. "Okay. I'll get this filed for you in a jiffy. You'll both get a letter in the mail once the processing is complete and everything's official," the notary informed you, and your heart sank momentarily when you thought you would have to wait to feel his hands on your body.

Just as you opened your mouth to ask the notary how long it would take for the processing to be complete, Adam reached over and placed a hand over yours, signaling for you to drop the issue and follow him out. "Thanks!" he called back, leading you out of the cramped office building and onto the street.

You followed him in silence as he guided you down the busy sidewalk on Main Street, weaving through the crowd so fast you were struggling to keep up with him. "Adam? Where are we going?" you tried to ask over the loud hustle and bustle of the noisy street.

"I told you I can't wait."

Adam had told you twice already, yet still you were shocked by the urgency with which he kissed you the second his front door was locked. Slamming you against the wall and pressing himself into your body, he wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, tongues swirling and teeth clashing as you rushed to undo your buttons.

"Been- ... fuck, been dreaming about this for weeks now," Adam mumbled against your mouth, leveraging you between the wall and his hips as he pulled back far enough to pull his novelty tshirt over his head and discard it somewhere nearby. Rocking back until he was supporting your full weight once more, Adam turned and took a few long strides to the nearby couch, plopping down with you straddling his lap.

"Yeah? Then why'd you wait so long to text me?" you asked breathlessly when you pulled back, pulling your arms free of your dress shirt and carelessly yanking the clip out of your hair to let the tresses cascade freely down your back. "Don't tell me you got shy all of a sudden," you teased, grinding your hips down against his clothed length and pulling a guttural moan from his chest as he guided your hips back and forth.

"H-had to- god that feels good!" he said through his panting, cheeks flushed red and pupils blown wide with arousal. Tracing a hand up the front of your body, Adam gripped the center band of your lace bra and pulled it down until your breasts spilled from the cups. He wasted no time in shoving his face into the valley between your breasts, pressing heated kisses to them and teeth nipping at the tender flesh before hungrily sucking a pert nipple into his mouth, massaging the other with his free hand and eliciting a deep moan from you.

"S'that right, baby? Why?" you asked him in a breathy whisper, your fingers tangling in his mussed-up hair as you pressed your lower half further against the bulge of his worn-down jeans. Adam pulled away from your chest long enough to move to the other one, moaning against the hard bud as his hands trailed down to your skirt, pushing it up to bunch around your waist. Running two fingers along your clothed pussy, Adam smirked against your skin when he felt how wet you had become with so little stimulation before he pulled back again to look up at you.

"'Cause if I hit you up before the contract was done, I was gonna come over to your place and fuck you stupid," he explained, licking a stripe up between your breasts until he was nipping at your jaw. Gripping your hip tightly with one hand, Adam pushed the gusset of your panties to the side and dipped two fingers into your waiting heat, groaning loudly at how easily they glided against your gummy walls thanks to how wet you were. "Ohh fuck, you're so fucking wet and I've barely touched you," he moaned as he pumped his thick digits in and out quickly, setting a rapid pace as your juices dripped down his hand, leaving dark spots on his jeans.

"You weren't the only one dreaming about this, you know," you gasped, bracing yourself against his shoulders as the meat of his palm slapped against your clit each time he pushed back in, the squelching noises of your wet heat filling your ears as the pleasure built twice as quickly. "That so? You been dreaming about my cock?" Adam asked as he sank his teeth into the side of your neck, your cries making his cock jump within the much too tight fabric of his pants. "M-mhmm, fuck please don't stop!" you whined when he slowed down his ministrations, opting instead to press the pad of his thumb to your puffy clit and draw rough circles against the little bud.

Adding a third finger to your dripping core, Adam picked the pace back up when he felt your thighs begin to tremble, realizing that you were already close to a release. If he wasn't so bricked up, he would have slowed down until your orgasm escaped you, but he was just as - if not more - desperate for your touch as much as you were for his. "That's it, baby, let me feel you gush on my fingers," he urged you, reaching down to palm himself through the rough fabric as your nails dug into the bare skin of his shoulders.

Clenching your eyes shut tightly, you lowered your head as you began to grind down against his hand, chasing that elusive high that you could only seem to reach by yourself. You were so close to an orgasm, your first one with a partner and not one of those fake ones to make the other person feel better about themselves. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuh-uuhhck-!" you cried wantonly, rocking your hips back and forth as he pressed his fingers further into your greedy cunt, rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive little bud. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Adam urged you on, pulling away from your neck and staring up at your tensed expression, struggling to move his fingers in and out as you began to clench around them, grip tight and unrelenting.

A few more pumps of his fingers and a couple more hard circles drawn on your clit, and you were throwing your head back in a silent cry, your walls fluttering around his girthy digits, refusing to let him pull back even a single centimeter as your orgasm crashed into you like a freight train. After what seemed like forever, you finally released the breath you didn't realize you had been holding, chest heaving as your lungs sucked in air and your vision began to clear as you came down from one of the most intense orgasms you've experienced yet. Grip loosening on his shoulders, you tilted your head down to look at Adam, a groan falling from your lips when you saw him greedily sucking your fluids from his fingers.

Catching your gaze, Adam pulled his fingers from his mouth and swiped at your oversensitive pussy, collecting more of your fluids before reaching up and pressing the pads of his fingers against your lips. "Open," he commanded you, and you wordlessly obeyed, letting him push his slick covered digits into your mouth and press against your tongue, sucking harshly as you hummed around them. "Shit, that's so fucking hot," he moaned as he pulled back his hand, grabbing you by the hips and pushing you off of him to stand up and undo his belt.

Turning to look over your shoulder at him, you bent over until you were on your hands and knees, wiggling your ass just to tease him that little bit as he frantically unzipped his pants and pushed them and his boxers down to his knees. "Gonna make good on your promise to fill me up?" you asked innocently, biting your bottom lip as you felt the couch sink in when he knelt down behind you.

Chuckling in response to your tease, Adam bent over your form to whisper in your ear. "Oh I'll do more than just make good on my promise," he told you, supporting his weight with one arm on the back of the couch as he lined himself up with your slick entrance. Placing several messy kisses to the nape of your neck and shoulders, Adam straightened himself out as he rubbed the tip of his weeping cock against your folds, groaning at the warmth that enveloped it when he pushed in just slightly. He wanted so badly to drag this first time out with you, but the absolute hunger, the animalistic desire coursing through his veins in that moment sapped every ounce of self-control he possessed.

"M'gonna stuff you so good, make you scream-" a grunt interrupted his speech when he suddenly slammed forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your warm wet walls in one swift motion, "-my fucking name while you cum on my fucking cock!" Retracting his hips until only the tip remained inside, you whimpered at the emptiness you felt until he was driving his hips forward again, pelvis slapping against the fat of your ass as he repeated the action over, and over, and over again, knocking the breath from your lungs each time his wide girth stretched your gummy walls open.

"Oh, f-fuck!" you gasped every time, pressing one hand against the armrest of the couch to find some purchase as you tried to push back against him each time he thrust forward, his hands holding you by the hips tightly, grunting each time your tight pussy wrapped around his aching cock. "Yeah, that's it baby, push back on it, just like that, fuck!" he groaned, speeding up as he watched your ass bounce with each slap of his hips, ripples rolling through the fat each time he drilled himself impossibly deeper into your core.

"S-shit, pussy's so fucking good, barely even started and you're making me wanna cum already!" he grunted through gritted teeth, delivering a hard slap to your ass cheek before caressing the spot where he struck you, repeating the action several times and pulling loud squeals of pain mixed with pleasure from your throat. "Oh fuck me, Adam, harder, please!" you begged, nails digging into the faux leather of his worn-down couch, that coil in the pits of your belly tightening faster than the first time he made you cum.

Strings of profanities spilled from both your lips as he fucked into you at a brutal pace, the rhythmic 'pap, pap, pap!' sound of skin on skin bounced off the walls and drowned out any noise coming from outside. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck, give it to me!" you begged, losing yourself in the pleasure and clenching your eyes shut as Adam felt that familiar flutter of your walls, signaling your release. Reaching up, he wrapped one hand beneath your jaw and pulled up slightly, pressing his other hand down into the small of your back and forcing you into a deep arch as he ground his hips into yours, making minute thrusts as he arched himself over your contorted figure just enough for you to see his face.

"You want it? Y'want my fucking cum, baby? Yeah?" he asked through his grunting and groaning, delivering another slap to the round globe of your already reddened ass cheek as he delivered minute thrusts now, heavy balls slapping against your puffy clit each time he thrust forward. "Yes, please, I want it, I want it so bad Adam!" you begged, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you felt the first tethers of that coil snapping in your belly, your walls clamping down on his cock as he brought his hand around to rub fast circles against your clit.

Sweat dripped down his forehead as he felt his balls tighten and that urge to let loose everything he'd been holding back for the past two weeks becoming painfully unbearable by the second. "Okay, I'll give it to you," Adam started, releasing your chin and letting your body fall out of the arch as he grabbed onto your hip once more, his other hand still rubbing determined shapes into your overstimulated clit. "But not until you cum for me! 'm not gonna give you my cum until I feel you gush around my fucking cock!" he told you, groaning loudly as he desperately clung to some semblance of control, wanting to feel you quiver and shake one more time before he let himself be swallowed up by the pleasure your sweet pussy offered him.

It only took a couple more thrusts before you were doing exactly what Adam was telling you, walls constricting around his hardened length almost painfully and your vision going white, a searing pleasure ripping through your being as your essence dripped down your thighs and his, shaking violently as you struggled to hold yourself up. Adam praised you, talking you through your high as his pace quickened even more, chasing that high, determined to deliver on his earlier promise. "Oh fuck, that's it, take my fucking cum! Take it baby, take it, take it!" he beckoned, his grunts growing higher in pitch as his own release barreled towards him at an unbelievable speed.

With one final thrust, Adam was pushed over the edge and he emptied his load into your quivering hole, lurching forward to catch himself on the arm of the couch and not crush you beneath his substantially larger form, his abs clenching beneath the thin layer of fat with each pulse of his hot seed into your welcoming cunt.

Back pressed against his heaving chest, you reached behind yourself once you found your strength again and tangled your fingers in the damp mess of hair atop his head. Craning your neck, you tried to pull him close enough to place tender kisses to his face, but the angle he had you in was too deep for you to get much further that his bicep when he wrapped his arm around your upper torso. With a groan, Adam eventually pulled you up against his chest and plopped back, his half hard cock still seated deep within your pussy as he tried to catch his breath, littering your shoulders and back with tender kisses of affection.

"Fuck... what time did you say you had to be back by?" Adam asked suddenly after several moments of content silence, reaching for his phone that had fallen haphazardly from his back pocket when he pushed his pants down.

Swallowing hard, your throat felt dry as you tried to gather your senses enough to answer his question, glancing over at the digital face of his phone as the time flashed brightly for you to see. If you hadn't just had the most mind-blowing sex of your life, you might have been a little bit concerned by how late your "lunch" was running. "I was supposed to be back thirty-seven minutes ago," you rasped, to which Adam chuckled as he tossed his phone onto the nearby coffee table. He wrapped both arms around your waist, holding you close and refusing to remove himself from your core, remembering the deal that had brought you two in the first place.

"Well, shit. Didn't mean to keep you from your work," he said, his tone apologetic as he nipped at the discolored flesh of your neck where he had sucked hickies into your otherwise flawless skin. A light laugh tumbled from your throat as you craned your neck once again, this time pulling him forward just slightly so that you could place a soft, open-mouthed kiss to his lips, your nails scratching lightly at his scalp and eliciting a low moan from him at the pleasure.

"It's okay. I have sick leave. I'll call them and say I got food poisoning, or something," you rasped, coughing slightly at the pain in the back of your throat. Reassured by your quick thinking, Adam smiled into the kiss before he unwrapped his arms from around your body, lifting you by your hips until his spent cock was pulled from the warmth of your core, moving you off of him entirely a second later so that he could get you a cup of water. Standing up, Adam reached down to pull his pants up, stuffing himself back inside his boxers as he walked to the nearby kitchen and letting you sink back into the cushions of his couch comfortably.

"And what about the contract?" Adam called from the kitchen, to which you hummed, sleep closing in fast with how spent your body was. "What if you wind up pregnant before the contract goes into effect?" he asked once he returned, offering a plastic blue cup filled to the brim with water to you. Thanking him with a nod, you didn't hesitate in taking the cup from him, swallowing several large gulps before you offered it back to him. Adam finished off what was left before he moved you forward to squeeze himself behind you once again, tracing lightly his fingers over the sweaty skin of your face and through your hair.

...

"... We lie?"

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[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

jon val jon or something

[gearbox-doll]

Okay okay okay okay okay okay okay wait wait wait

Hear me out

12yo Harry writing to Tom in the diary at night, finding comfort in him and telling him all about his time at Hogwarts. Tom learning about Harry and finding, to his displeasure, that he's becoming attached. Harry goes to Tom when he's frustrated and sad, Tom is always there when Harry needs him.

Harry begging Tom to help him save Ginny when he gets to the chamber. Tom's expression twisting with just the slightest amount of guilt before it smooths over again. Harry feeling guilty throughout the entire fight.

Harry looking up at Tom and whispering "I'm sorry" right before he stabs the diary with the fang. Harry crying as Tom disappears, crying as he leaves the chamber, crying as he glances back and wishes it could have gone another way. Harry crying but refusing to tell the adults why because Tom made it clear to him that no one else would think Tom could be saved.

Harry pushing the guilt away and away in his mind for years as he goes through Hogwarts, unable to reconcile Dark Lord Voldemort with the image of Tom Riddle.

Harry getting the locket from Kreacher and opting to wear it most because it affects him the least. Or at least, that's what he tells Ron and Hermione.

Harry wears it because when he puts it on, it feels like a missing piece of him slides back into place.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

no but like. does bad know what that book meant. does he know. because if he did then he gave it to forever Anyway. he gave it to forever as part of a GAME. bad never tells people how he feels about them to their faces (rememebr the 14 elegant letters in festa junina! the 14 anonymous letters that were so fucking lovely!!) and he always plays with people and he gave forever a book. that says eu te amo. as part of a GAME.

[redvexillum]

SDFNASNFKSMDF:LASMDF:LMAV:LDM:ASMD -wheezes- 😩

The setting is PERFECT for the chaotic, obsessive energy between them. The dark, dim room, the deer skulls, the bayou—it all just screams sinister elegance. I can feel the weight of everything they've been through, and how the room itself seems to hold their history. The way you describe the smells, the textures—it feels like Alastor's world is as much a part of him as his very soul. 🔥

The dialogue—oh my god, the dialogue! Alastor’s words are so sharp, each one a threat and a promise, and I’m just shaking as he lays everything out in front of the reader. He wants nothing less than total, unquestioning devotion from her, and it’s so clear how much he craves her in a way that goes beyond love—it's obsession, possession, need. "I need you like I’ve needed nothing in life or death." MELT. 💀💋

And that final line, "Without you, it was never Heaven"?? Please, I am DYING. 😩 The idea of eternity with him is terrifying, yet beautiful in this twisted, almost tragic way. I can't even process how emotionally complex this is, and I’m just sitting here wanting more, more of this world, this love, this darkness.

For Eternity, Chapter 12 of 13 (Alastor x angel!Wife!OC)

Alastor x Angel!Wife Oc (Isabel) Rated: Adult Chapter Warnings: Alastor's a bit unstable. If you're not interested in smut, you can call this the end, chapter 13 is smut heavy and wraps things up a little neater though.

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord. And my friend runs a Hazbin Fic Community

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“You too, Isabel.” Sera smile was small and sadistic in a way Isabel couldn’t explain as she held her arm out. 

“Maybe we could use some explanation?” Husk seemed to be the voice of reason, “So that the Princess can repeat this success.”

“Yeah, how the fuck did I get redeemed suddenly?” Angel Dust made a show of taking a long drink out of a bottle he snagged from Husk. 

Sera rubbed the space between her two eyebrows as she collected herself. After a few deep breaths, she set off on the story of redemption. 

“You were tested of your character, Isabel of her faith and you have been deemed pure.” 

“Ain’t nothing pure about me,” Angel Dust countered, only to be ignored. 

“You were offered a chance to violate one of the most divine beings in the universe. Resisting gained you nothing and yet, you worked to free her, putting your own life at risk.” 

“I’m going to tell you something, right now,” Angel Dust finished his drink, “If that’s what you’re basing this on- Ol Tall Dark and Murdery over there would have never let me have a moment without more pain than I can imagine if I didn’t. He scares the piss outta me more than Val any day of the week. Self preservation, baby.” 

Isabel knew the lie of that. Angel Dust was horrified from the moment they had met with the task he had been given. That was true before he had known who her husband was. 

“It matters not how you wish to deflect it. Your heart has been judged pure.” 

“Isabel- they decided that you can come home too!” Emily’s eagerness died as emotions warred across Isabel’s face. “Adam’s gone, so he won’t be bothering you anymore. You know what happened to your late husband-” 

“Current.” Alastor’s voice cut through the space. 

“You’re not married,” Sera challenged. “You haven’t been since the day she died. A marriage is until death.”

“Our vows were rather unique,” Alastor’s grip on her waist was growing painful but she welcomed it, letting it ground her as her mind seemed to spin out of control. 

“You don’t have to stay in a realm of violence and death,” Sera ignored Alastor, instead speaking directly to Isabel again. “You do not have to remain with a bloodthirsty murderer.” 

She was tense in his arms. He could feel the way her body trembled under his hands. He could lose her. Because of what he had done, his little hobby, he could lose her again. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They had vowed for eternity. 

“We modified our vows,” Alastor insisted, “We changed ‘till death do us part’ to instead be a promise for all eternity. I have remained faithful, as has she. We are still wed.” 

“You are not.” Sera's smile reminded Isabel of the way Vox smiled at her when he realized he had her caught.

“Why?” Isabel felt like she was spinning, as if the floor was falling out from under her. She didn’t know if she was asking why her marriage was considered void or why she was being called to return to heaven’s gates.

“While you vows may be been spoken for and intended to be for eternity, though you’ve remained faithful- since death you’ve not lain together as man and wife nor have you spoken your vows again. You will return to Heaven today and you will move on.” 

“Wait, now-” Angel Dust was the first to speak up but was quickly cut off by Emily.

“Sera, that’s not exactly-”

“And if those conditions are met?” Alastor’s voice was thick with the filter. Static felt like it was crawling over Isabel’s skin. Shadows danced in a way that reminded her too much of the night prior, when Alastor had let blood fly through the air of the studio hidden in shadows. 

“If she were to accept laying with a man such as you, a man who takes pleasure in the ending of human lives, she would damn her soul.” Emily was quick to speak, wanting to be factual before Sera could do whatever she had planned. “It doesn’t have to be right-” 

“But she hasn’t. She will return with us. They both will. We will be leaving momentarily.”

“And if I don’t want to go?” Angel Dust asked, downing another drink. “And if I want to say fuck you to your offer, come get me next time I die, maybe?” 

“For you, that would be agreeable.” Emily again spoke quickly, feeling the situation spiraling out of her control. “We simply wanted to offer you passage now. You don’t have to risk losing redemption while waiting to die.” 

“Or, I can earn redemption through this stupid ass hotel the way Charlie intends and not from being a pawn in some fucked up God’s game.” Angel Dust slammed down his bottle. 

“You’d be free of Valentino if you left now,” Husk pointed out. 

“Fuck it, I can take Val. I’m not done here.” 

“He can choose to stay but I cannot?” Isabel asked, wrapping her fingers around the strong forearm that had creeped up her front as Alastor gripped her shoulder tightly. 

“Regrettably,” Sera didn’t sound like she regretted it at all, “let’s go.” 

“Is Heaven not merciful enough to allow a hus-” Alastor’s smile twitched as he cut off his title in order to humor the seraphim whom he’d rather be ripping the wings off of, “a man a moment with the woman he loves to say goodbye?”

“Alastor!” Charlie’s outrage was clear on her face, “Wait, we can discuss this, find a solution. Maybe you can be redeemed too?!”

“There will be no discussion.” 

Alastor’s smile simply twitched as the shadows violently came to life, dancing with his power rather than simply deepening as they had been. Inky shadows came off the floor, spilling and plashing up on their feet as Alastor’s shadow itself pulled free from the wall. 

Fright filled Isabel’s eyes as her head whipped around. The seraphim were likewise uncomfortable with the display over power, pulling on their own wells of power to push back shadows that strayed too close. 

Cold black arms wrapped around both Isabel and Alastor. An icy chin rested on her shoulder as it curled in over its master and its love. Fingers as dark as the void hooked her chin and pulled her to look at its face. 

The face of the other Alastor looked back at her. The face of darkness and unhidden emotion that somehow spoke more than Alastor’s schooled face ever did frowned for a moment, sharp mouth pulled down at the corners before it began to smile again. Fingers that shouldn’t have been real caressed her skin as the floor became soft under her feet. A black shadow heart flew up above the black head of the shadow man as its shadows swallowed them.

“Where is he taking her?” Sera demanded, her voice lost to the roaring static in Isabel’s ears.

The shadows pushed them up from again. He held her as she regained her balance, her heels clicking against the cracked tile floors. The room was dark, lit only by the dim red daylight that spilled over the landscape from some unseen or light source. 

Though the windows were large, overlooking the vast city below them. In the far distance, she could see the gleaming tech district that had been her prison for a few days. 

Alastor’s arms fell from around her as she stepped forward, taking in the broadcasting room decorated with deer skulls, rich wood and puddles of the bayou. It smelled like home in every way she couldn’t have been able to explain. It smelled like his workspace and their home mixed together. 

In a way, she guessed that’s exactly what he intended. 

“Where are we?” She turned to face the man she had always considered herself married to, shadows still dancing around him. His shadow twin still loomed, as agitated as the rest of the shadows. 

“The hotel still,” Alastor stalked up to her, looking very much like a predator. Was that how his victims had seen him in their final moments? “My broadcasting tower. I fear those meddlesome angels will not give us much time.” 

“Alastor, I-”

“I have honored your memory. I have honored your love, never once thinking I’d get to hold you again. Yet now you’re here, with me and you know- HA! You know everything now! But they dare come here and disrespect our marriage based on what?” His fingers dug into her arms as he bent down to be at eye level with her. “You must decide now, ma chérie. I need you like I’ve needed nothing in life or death. Do you accept me? Do you want me? Will you have me?” 

“I’ve always loved you,” 

That wasn’t the answer he needed to hear. Love wasn’t enough for those damned demons in angel’s wings. They cared not for their love. They spat on the face of their sacred vows. 

“It’s not enough.” Her lower back hit the hard edge of his workstation as he drove her back. “They don’t care that you love me. They don’t care. As long as they see you as unwed and pure, they’ll take you from me. Is that what you want? Do you want them to take you back? Do you regret finding me?” 

Alastor’s hand wrapped around her neck, grip soft as she looked timidly at the madness behind his eyes. She was sacred. No, that didn’t give enough weight to what she was feeling at that moment. She was terrified, but she didn’t want to run from him. 

“I said our vows again and again over these years,” she whispered. “Alastor? I don’t- I’m scared. You’re scaring me, but I don’t want to go with them.”

His lips crashed against hers, greedy to taste her lips again. They had decades to make up for, but unless he claimed her, they wouldn’t have the chance to make up for so much missed time. Tilting her head with the hand around her throat, he enjoyed the feeling of her gasp race down her trachea under his palm when he bit down on her lip.

Sweet blood filled his mouth as he drank her up. Not a lot, no- he never wanted to cause her any serious harm, but he needed to taste her. A lifetime of wondering what her blood tasted like. He finally had his answer. 

It was the sweetest wine. 

His lips left hers, tongue dragging along her jaw as he clutched her, thumb caressing her waist as he continued to taste her skin. He nipped and sucked at the exposed skin as he reached behind her, undoing one button above her wing. 

“I want to stay with you, Al.” Tears gathered in her eyes as she ran her hands along his shoulders. It took all the focus she had to unbutton his coat and send it off his shoulders. “Please, I don’t want to go.” 

“You’ll let me defile you?” He whispered as his hand left her neck so he could toss his coat absently toward his coatrack. 

It fell in a heap, unnoticed, while his large hands gripped her waist. He pushed her to sit up on the control panel as if it was nothing, setting her between dials and not sparing a thought to what buttons she could be pressing.

“You’ll let me dirty you? Let me rub the very sins of my soul off on you? Stain your soul dark with the darkness in mine?” His words were coming hot and heavy as he gripped her knees, just under the hem of the front of her dress, and pulled them apart while he ran his hand up her legs. 

“Yes,” she whimpered, craving the feeling of him. 

His firm chest under her hands left her wanting more. She pulled at the collar of his shirt, battling with his bow tie. 

“Please, Alastor-” 

He looked up at her as his fingers traced the line of her underwear, another garment he had materialized out of nothing by his raw power for her. Another demonstration of the world he could give her. 

“There will be no going back. No changing your mind. No turning your back on me. No divorce. No leaving me. There will be no heaven. There will only be eternity, with me.”

“Without you, it was never Heaven.”

Tag list in comments

[zincbot]

episode 12 prisoner's dilemma is such such such a phenomenal episode

"the sword comes down"

[lenaellsi]

if i have to read any variation of the sentiment "crowley doesn't care about the world, he only cares about himself and aziraphale" with my only human eyes ever again i will not be responsible for my actions

[chatonlaveur]

the slow horses season finale has me losing my mind btw if anyone cares

[belladrawschstuff]

same, I saw and actually cried, fuck this shit man. I cant vote and by the time I can He'll be gone but I can tell this most likely wont be too good for the next 4 years. I mean psychologists the 1st time he ran found out he's an actual fucking psychopath. Thank God I'm homeschooled cause I feel like with the rise of trump again places are gonna get shot up way more. I actually went through the 5 stages of grieve seeing that news

denial 1. Maybe I just saw it wrong I mean my dad does watch one sided things

Anger 2. How the hell did he win nobody really liked him besides billionaires and all the people who are too obsessed, I didn't know there were so many of those people

Bargaining 3. What if he will be good these next few years, I mean I guess we dont have a choice

Depression 4. Fuck its all over if this country is gone by next year I won't even be surprised, I had a dream about this its all about to go down

Acceptance. Forget it I can't do anything about this shit, I mean I am only a teenager he can't change it that much

sooo my fellow americans…..how are yall feeling.

personally? im terrified.

[fuckspn]

i have nothing funny or clever or insightful to say. cas told dean he loved him and then he died.

[araneitela]

Me staring at test results: It makes so much sense for her, but if I don't specify or elaborate, then we end up with the fanon take. Ugh, how do I easily explain that if you look at the word 'sex' through a much more old-fashioned lens instead of the modern one, that you'll get a vastly different picture of it?

/takes angycat.png typing to my tags

[double-deep-fried-soup]

Day 162 of random Mark images