#i wanna be clear i super appreciate them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckyalpine · 1 year ago

Text

Pick Me

Bucky x reader

The new recruit has her eyes set of a certain set of super soldiers. Especially your super soldier.

warnings: jealously, Angsty bangsty, but also so fluffy fluffy and smutty, clueless Bucky, he really means no harm, go easy on him.

A/n - editing to add: when I first started writing this I loved the concept and wrote a large chunk but then I left it for months cause I struggled to actually finish writing it. This wasn’t even the original ending I had planned but I just wanted to finish it so yes Bucky should’ve done way more, pretend there was a time jump where he does a better job with earning forgiveness 🥲

“Everyone, meet Nicole, our newest recruit for the field agent training program” Tony walked into the common room where you were sprawled out on the couch with Nat, Sam and Wanda while a young woman walking confidently behind him. “She’s going to be staying with us for a couple of months to train before she goes onto the the field” Tony turned back to her, bringing her to his side.

“I’m sure you know everyone but let me introduce you to them anyway. This is the very Natasha, Wanda, Sam and y/n”

“Hey Nicole” You gave her a warm smile, happy to welcome her while everyone else also got up to greet her. “Nice to meet you”

“Oh, ew, just call me Nic! I don’t really go by Nicole” She scrunched her face at the sound of her full name, her eyes scanning the room, clearly looking for someone. “Don’t suppose the very Captain America and Sergeant Barnes are here?”

The hopeful uptick in her voice made it clear that’s who she’d been searching for. Right on cue, the two super soldiers walked into the living room on their way to the kitchen after a morning run.

“Speak of the devils and I do mean devils” Tony snorted beckoning the men to meet the new recruit. “Rogers, Barnes, this is Nicole, preferably Nic”

“Hello handsome” She gave Bucky a bashful smile before turning to Steve and batting her lashes, “and handsome”

“Nice to meet you” Steve reddened at the way she gripped onto his hand before slinking over to the brunette, purposely sticking out her left hand so he’d shake with his metal one. “And you Sergeant”

Bucky gave her a smile and quick shake, excusing himself to get some water while Steve quickly trailed behind him. Tony went on to take her to her room which was on the same floor as yours, all the other spare rooms occupied by a few others who had already started training. Nicole returned to the living room moments later with sweats and a hoodie, her hair tied up, plopping down onto the sofa beside Sam.

“Hey, were doing a girls night, movies, junk food, wine, you wanna join us?” Nat offered with a smile hoping to make the new recruit feel more welcome even though a part of her was wary.

“It’s a lot of fun, I was just about to get some snacks for tonight, let me know what you like” You add with a smile, only to be met with a scoff.

“Mmm, hard pass on that, wine isn’t really my thing, thanks though” She gave the group a tight lipped smile before turning back to the two super soldiers who had also joined at some point, scrolling through phones they finally knew how to use.

“What are you boys up to tonight” She threw them a smile while laying back on the couch and kicking her feet up, letting her hoodie ride up in the process.

“Bucky and I were actually just going get in a work out, nothing much tonight” He said with a smile, not noticing the way Nicole’s eyes lit up.

“Oh wow I actually haven’t been by the gym yet but I guess it’ll be where I spend most of my time for the program”

“You could join us if you’d like, we can show you around” Bucky offered, also missing the smirk that crossed her face, only seeing her bounce right up with an enthusiastic nod.

“Really? That would be great, I’d really appreciate it!”

“Of course, anytime. We’re just about to head down soon” Bucky stretched as he got up, along with Steve, waiting for her to change before heading down. She got up and went off to her room while you picked at the skin on your fingers. You felt a pang of something at the pit of your stomach at Bucky’s offer but you knew he was just trying to make the girl feel like she was part of the team. He knew more about feeling left out than anyone else; of course he’d never want anyone else to feel the same way.

Still.

Something was off.

You shook off the inkling of insecurity you felt, not wanting to over think his intentions. You and Bucky were not official yet but everyone knew there was tension and a clear unspoken dynamic between you both. It was just a matter of time. Unless he had his sights on the new girl...

No.

He wouldn’t do that.

Right?

*****

“She’s getting really comfortable around those two” Nat cocked an eyebrow watching Nicole have a field day sparring with the two men, throwing herself onto Bucky in particular, giggling when he’d help correct her stance or catch her before she slipped. Every since she joined them at the gym, she made a point to only work out when they were both there, finding excuses when anyone else would offer to help her train.

“I guess they are really experienced, so it makes sense...” Your voice trailed off, trying to reason why she was practically glued to their side, again ignoring the uneasiness you felt when Bucky picked her up with ease and set her back on her feet.

“Uh-huh, we’re all experienced” Nat rolled her eyes, plastering on a fake smile when the three finished up on the sparring mat, making their way over to the both you. “You three have a good workout?”

Steve blinked, noting the iciness In Nat’s voice though Nicole seemed unbothered.

“They’re great, can’t beat having the two best soldiers train me” She drawled out, giving them a wink. Bucky couldn’t help the blush that spread to his cheeks, not used to being praised and you couldn’t help the jealously that started to gnaw at you again.

No.

Relax.

“Anytime, Nic” He shrugged while Nat retched internally, deciding to cut through that conversation before it went further.

“You know, if you come by in the afternoons, Agent Hill hosts a great self-defense workshop for women, great way for you to do some networking as well” Nat gauged the way Nicole’s nose scrunched, shaking her head.

“Women’s workshop, sound’s like a drama fest waiting to happen, honestly most of my friends are guys, makes life easier, thanks though” her eyes didn’t leave the brunette, placing herself perfectly between both soldiers. “Besides, I’m pretty good with self-defense already, that's why I got these two helping me with a little extra”

“Anyway! Y/n and I were talking about the event Stark is hosting later night. You’re both coming, right?” Nat looked at the two men before her, purposely avoiding the Nicole but it didn’t seem to matter.

“Are you coming as well?” Bucky asked her, her eyes lighting up again, quickly recomposing herself after. “You could meet a few of the other agents too, get to know some more people”

“Uh sure, I could come by for a bit” She shrugged, coming off as indifferent while shaking with excitement on the inside. “Thanks, Sarge”

You sucked in a breath at the name she kept calling him, always dropping a suggestive tone in her voice. Or maybe you were over thinking it. It was perfectly plausible she was just being nice to the person who was making an effort to make her feel welcomed. Maybe she had bad experiences in other places that made her wary of women, hence why she only stuck to all the guys on the team. You tried to wrack you brain for answers that would make you feel a little better but came up short.

But you didn’t want to be petty.

You were more mature than this.

“We have plenty of dresses if you want to come by and get ready together” You offered again, mustering a smile, making a final attempt to befriend the new recruit but she didn’t even look your way, fully focused on the brunette.

“Uh- not really the dresses and heels type. I’m more of a sneakers girl to be honest” She tossed her pony tail over her shoulder, missing the way Nat’s eyes nearly rolled out of her head while you nodded, watching her sway her hips as she walked off. “I’ll drag myself over if I’m feeling it”

“Oh-okay, then we’ll just see you there!” You called after her while Nat dragged you off, uninterested in your constant attempts to be friendly.

“C’mon, lets get you ready. I’m going to make you look so hot, Barnes ends up on his knees” The red head smirked while you squeaked, feeling your face heat up. “We’re putting you in that red dress, the one that makes his pants feel too tight, don’t think I didn’t catch him adjusting himself the last time you wore it”

“Nat!” You hissed, hoping he didn’t hear, the both of you in a fit of giggles as you made your way to your room. “Oh my god” you hid your face while she dug through your closet, pulling out the tiny dress that hugged your body perfectly, the red color making you stand out in the best way possible.

“Go shower while I get all the make up out, I’m tired of miss pick me trying to get a buy one get one free deal with those two”

You snorted, hopping into the shower, letting the hot water destress your muscles, feeling a little more hopeful with the dress choice you were going with. Nat didn’t waste any time; as soon as you were out, your hair was styled, make up done and heels strapped. You knew you looked good when both Sam and Tony did a double take, letting their eyes shamelessly linger on you with low whistles.

“Y’know if you’re done playing games with terminator, I’d be happy to take his place” Tony wiggled his eyebrows while you giggled, taking a seat on the plush couch of the lounge where everyone else sat.

“What are you ladies drinking” Steve came over with a tray of drinks from the bar, already well aware of what each person liked to typically order.

“I’m good with a beer” Nicole shrugged, rolling her eyes when you took the pink drink from the tray, “Ugh, I don’t know how you drink those, they’re so sweet, do you even taste anything at that point?”

You shrugged, quietly taking a sip of the raspberry lemonade while she gulped her beer, signaling for another after slamming her bottle down.

“You guys took forever to get ready, this is why I can’t deal with makeup and dresses n’shit” she snorted, directing her comment mostly at you, “That’s a pretty bright color, I thought tonight was supposed to be lowkey?”

“Well I think you ladies look beautiful” Thor boomed, not catching the snark in Nicole's voice, his smile wide and voice completely sincere. “Especially you, Lady y/n”

“Thank you Thunder” You smiled, though the giddiness you felt initially had taken a second hit for the night. He beamed, setting down a bottle of Asgardian mead, searching for the two soldiers.

“Alright, where are the two that need this” He looked around for Steve and Bucky, since they couldn’t get drunk off of regular alcohol. Bucky strode in clearly dressed to kill, in all black from head to toe. Steve joined his side, their faces lit up like it was Christmas day seeing the crystal decanter in the God’s hands. Bucky’s eyes flicked back to you, his breath hitching in his throat, seeing you in his favorite dress.

“Fuck sweets, you look-

“C’mon Sarge, how about a little competition” Nicole nudged Bucky, cutting off the trance he had on you, her shoulder pressing into his, biting her lip and eyeing the alcohol, “Let’s see how many shots we can do”

“This might be a lot to handle doll” Bucky chuckled while you froze hearing what he called her. Her eyes lit up again, quickly glancing over to you, her eye brow quirking before leaning into him more.

Since when did he call anyone else doll.

You felt your stomach sink, taking another long sip of your drink instead, but nothing distracted you from the banter that was taking place before you.

“Ugh, finee, I’ll stick to regular vodka, c’mon Buckyyy, lets gooo!” She practically clung off him waiting for him to pour shots, inches away from crawling into his lap as he grabbed the bottles. You couldn’t tell if the flush from his cheeks was from the alcohol or the constant giggles Nicole made whenever he spoke but either way, you didn’t want to watch any longer.

“Where are you going” Nat grabbed your arm as you got up to leave, though you didn’t need to say anything for her to understand. Her green eyes glared at the tipsy solders who were now busy with a game of pool, surrounded by the rest of the team, Nicole practically crawling up Bucky’s legs each time it was his turn. “For fucks sake-

“They’re just having fun, don’t worry about it” You stopped Nat before she stormed over, shaking your head. As much as you wanted to red head to have her way with any of the three at this point, you couldn't be bothered. You were not about to fight for Bucky’s attention; if he wanted to give it to you, he would...

Right?

You thought things would go back to normal at some point. But it didn’t. Nicole made a point of training twice a day, anything to get her hands on the brunette. Anything to feel the cool metal of his hand on her. In fact she’d taken up most of Bucky’s time outside of just training, always finding ways to tag along with Steve as well, all while avoiding the rest of the team.

*****

“What's wrong sweets” Bucky could tell something was on your mind while he stroked your back, his body still warm from the way he took you apart at least 3 times before filling you up till you were dripping and soaking his sheets. He had finally gotten an afternoon off, tossing you over his shoulder when he found you in the kitchen, not letting you get a word in as he shut the door behind him. You wanted to argue back that he couldn’t just have access to you any time he felt like according to his convenience, but as soon as his soft lips were on you, you melted, turning into a moaning mess seconds later.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages” You shrugged, toying with the corner of Bucky’s blanket, starting to feel more like you were just a body to warm his bed than someone he actually wanted to be with. “We haven’t really hung out recently”

You had let yourself relax into his hold only for him to curse under his breath a second later after he noticed the time. He shifted you off him, making his way over to the closet to pull over his jeans and Henley before scrambling around for his wallet and keys.

“Bucky, what are you-

“Sorry doll, I forgot I promised to take Nicole to the corner diner, showing her around a little bit cause she’ll be staying for a few extra weeks”

Fantastic.

“You spend a lot of time with her” You didn’t want to come off as jealous, keeping your voice even, though you were close to tearing someone's head off. Bucky didn’t seem to notice, humming in agreement while sitting at the edge of the bed to pull on his socks.

“Yeah, she’s fun!” Bucky said casually, which only made the weight in your stomach feel heavier. “She almost beat Steve in MarioKart, just when he thought he was unstoppable”

“Hm” You didn’t bother saying anything else while Bucky threw on his jacket, patting down himself to be sure he didn’t miss anything. He caught the way your face had fallen, his cool metal fingers slipping under your chin to tilt your face up.

“How about we hang out after? Around 7, we’ll watch a movie together, okay? I’ll grab dinner for us. Promise doll” He kissed your forehead before jogging off, closing the door behind him.

You were ready by 6, too excited to wait till 7, having showered and changed into something comfy, laying out Bucky’s favorite snacks and adding a few more soft pillows to the bed. You knew it was still early so you didn’t mind lounging around for a bit, anxiously checking the time as it neared closer and closer to when he was supposed to show up.

An hour later, it was 7.

Then 7:30.

And then 8.

By 9, you had left everything as is, blinking back the hot tears that wanted to spill, retreating back to your own room, not wanting to see him at all, even if he did have a good excuse for not showing up, which was highly unlikely. You shut the door, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and crawling into bed, burying yourself under the covers, no longer bothering to hold back the tears that began to soak your pillow.

****

Bucky cocked his head curiously, seeing his bedroom door left ajar, wondering why it was open when he definitely closed it before leaving. As soon as he stepped in, his heart dropped to his stomach seeing the pillows that were propped up against the headboard, his favorite snacks piled on the fluffy blanket, your fuzzy bunny slippers left behind beside his bed.

He cursed under his breath when he realized the time, remembering his promise to you, running straight to your room, only to find it closed with the lights turned off. He tried knocking only to be met with silence, carefully turning the handle and letting himself inside.

“Doll?” He felt his heart break further seeing the small lump under a mountain of blankets, curled up into a ball “Oh, doll” He strode over, sitting at the edge of your bed, careful not to wake you if you were asleep, his hand gently tucking a strand of hair from your face.

“What” Your voice cracked, hoping he’d think its from sleep and not the fact that you had been crying.

“I’m so sorry sweets, we lost track of time, we went out to grab food and then Sam suggested we check out that new arcade just down the street”

We were supposed to do that you thought to yourself, swallowing down the lump in your throat, refusing to let your emotions get the better of you.

“And then Steve and Sam had to leave half way cause they had a mission early in the morning. Nicole wanted ice cream so we went by Carla’s before coming back-

“You took her to Carla's?” You cut Bucky off, your heart breaking further. That particular ice-cream shop always felt like something special you shared with Bucky, the place he took you to when neither of you could sleep. It was the place you shared your first kiss with him, the place where he said he felt something between the two of you. It’s not like you owned the store but it felt like the final straw, your resolve finally breaking.

“Yeah, I-

“Just go Bucky” There wasn’t a hint of iciness in your voice; just disappointment and defeat, both far worse than you being angry. Bucky froze, pulling your blanket away from you, only for you to push his hand away, burying yourself further into the sheets.

“Doll?”

“Don’t call me that” It was the indifference in your voice that left him hurt and confused, mouth opening and closing, “Please leave”

“Sweets, I can make it up to you, I promise-”

“It’s fine James” You shrugged, pulling the sheets higher up, not willing to speak anymore, knowing you’d burst into tears again if you did. Bucky reluctantly decided to let you sleep, figuring you’d hear him out the next day but no.

How wrong he was.

You avoided him in the morning.

And the day after that.

Nearly a week had gone by and you didn’t spare him a second glance, always finding an excuse to evade him whenever he trailed behind you. It didn’t help that Nicole attempted to stay glued to his side, not giving him chance to get you alone.

*****

“What’s with you” Sam watched Bucky slump down onto the sofa, where everyone else lounged around, his face sullen from a lack of sleep, grumpiness amplified because why were you avoiding him so much?

“Y/n isn’t talking to me” He shrugged, while Nat glared at him.

“I wonder why” the red head mumbled, rolling her eyes at his confusion.

“When was the last time you guys spoke” Steve inquired, equally concerned about why you were ignoring his best friend. Bucky was the last person to share stories about his love life but at this point he was desperate. He recalled the events of the last time he spoke to you, promising a movie night, going out with Nicole, taking her for ice cream, running late, apologizing to you afterwards, where did he go wrong?

“I didn’t mean to forget-

“Bucky!” Nat slapped him upside the head while he yelped, looking at her with puppy eyes.

“What did I do?”

“Barnes, you absolute doorknob, you took her to all the spots you take y/n to, you’ve been spending all your time making little miss I’m one of the guys feel comfortable, you’ve made y/n seem invisible and you’re wondering why she’s not talking to you?” Bucky blinked while Nat continued, her annoyance only growing when she saw a message from Nicole pop up on Bucky’s phone.

“You treat Nicole like your girlfriend. Imagine some new guy joins us, makes a point of eye fucking y/n the entire time, finding ways to constantly flirt with her and touch her, you’d be fine with it? Imagine he avoids hanging out with the guys but makes all the time in the world to chase after anything with breasts. On top of that, how would you feel if y/n went out of her way to make said guy feel more welcomed when he clearly just wants to get into her pants. You’d be fine with it?!”

Bucky shook his head, though still not fully understanding because Nicole was just a friend, not someone he’d even be into. Plus, its not like she was into him like that, right?

“But Nicole doesn’t want to-” Bucky started, shutting his mouth when Nat nearly hissed, staring at him while he did the mental math, “Nicole wants to get into my pants?” Bucky looked at Nat wide eyes, ducking the cushion she was about to whack at his face, all the pieces finally clicking together. He groaned, running a hand over his face, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. Just as Sam and Steve were about to hum in agreement with Nat, she glared at them, their eyes growing wide.

“And you” Nat turned to glare at Steve, his shoulders slumping when he realized he wasn’t in the clear. He squeaked when Nat pulled his ear, giving it a squeeze, “What were you thinking. You didn’t once think it was weird she only trained with you two? Haven’t any of you noticed Nicole doesn’t hang out with any of us, Just you?” Nat waved her hand at the men that sat before her, their dumb stuck faces only adding to her annoyance. “Idiots”

As much as Bucky wanted to hit his head onto a brick wall, he didn’t have time to waste, immediately springing up from the couch to look for you. He checked everywhere he could but you were nowhere to be found. He was so desperate, he found himself shuffling outside of Tony’s lab, hoping FRIDAY would give him your location.

“You’re asking for a lot Barnes, y/n might add my name to the hit list if I tell you where she is”

“Please” Bucky was ready to beg on his knees while the billionaire huffed, watching the former assassin look like a lovesick puppy. He cocked an eyebrow, noting the glassiness of Bucky’s eyes on his desperate face, nodding before calling for FRIDAY to look for you. “Also, I need another favor...”

****

“Y/n, babygirl” He’d never felt such relief before, seeing you make your way to your room, coming back from your hiding spot from the roof, the scowl on your face clearly showing you weren’t trying to talk to anyone one your way over.

“Oh, I’m babygirl now? Has doll now been reserved for Nicole” You couldn’t hold back the sneer in your voice, walking away faster, ignoring his calls.

“Baby, please!”

No.

“Baby, wait!” Bucky chased after you, not willing to let another day go by without you knowing exactly how he felt. He managed to get hold of your hand, gently tugging you towards his chest and spinning you till your back was against the wall, his chest nearly pressed to you. “Please, I-I need to talk to you, tell you how I feel”

“There’s nothing to talk about”

“Yes there is” His voice was earnest, baby blues searching your downcast eyes, his finger tilting your chin up to look at him, “There’s so much to talk about, I adore you”

“Do you also adore Nic?” You scoffed, while Bucky’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment, the pink spreading up to his ears.

“There’s no Nic or Nicole, theres just a y/n, my y/n, only you doll” You rolled your eyes at his response, trying to move away but Bucky wasn’t having any of it, keeping you pressed against him, “I’m sorry darling, I didn’t realize what she was doing or get her intentions. I thought she just wanted to get to know the team better”

“Wow” you huffed under your breath, wishing you had the space to flick the super soldiers forehead.

“I know, I’m an idiot, and I’m an even bigger idiot for not making it clear I’m so utterly and desperately in love with you” Bucky bit his lip as soon as the words left his mouth, he’d said everything under the sun except those words before. But they were true and he’d kept it inside long enough. “I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you”

You squeaked in surprise when he scooped you up in his arms, tossing you over his shoulder, walking over to his bedroom, smiling when he felt your small fists hitting his back, your butt wiggling to be put back down.

“Barnes, put me down, you can’t just say you love me and then carry me away like a complete ogre!” He set you down, kicking the door shut behind him before wrapping his arms around you tightly again, falling more in love with your irritated pouty face.

“I love you sweet girl. God, I’m so in love with you”

“You’re an absolute idiot”

“An idiot who is in love”

“You’re so cheesy” You willed yourself not to smile, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered at his words and love struck eyes. “you’re still a dick”

“I know. M’sorry angel, I didn’t realize what I was doing, I never wanted to hurt you. I should’ve known something was up when all she wanted to do was train 24/7 but I guess I misunderstood her intentions cause I didn’t see her as anything else. I’ve only ever had eyes for you baby, you have my heart. You always will”

“Where is she right now anyway?” You melted into his chest, closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Isn’t she supposed to be leaving soon?” Bucky didn’t respond, his hands starting to wander your body instead, slipping up your shirt, rubbing soft circles on your hips. Without warning, he picked you up again, tossing you on the bed and pouncing on you, peppering your face with kisses.

“Bucky what are you doing” You giggled feeling his beard tickle your skin as he started to trail kisses down your neck.

“I may have requested Tony to have her stay an extra night” Your face twisted in confusion at his words but the devious look on his face made your tummy flutter.

“And he happily agreed because...”

“Because...?”

“I want her to hear how good I can make the girl I picked feel” Bucky smirked as he crawled off you, stripping his clothes off before tearing yours off immeitedly after. “M’not gonna waste another second, gotta let the whole compound know who my best girl is”

****

“OH G-GOD J-JAMES FUUCCCKKK”

“That’s it pretty princess, that’s it, cum on my dick baby, my good girl, fuck you’re so good to me, look at that, God you’re soaked baby”

“Jesus Christ” Nicole huffed, no longer able to ignore the moans coming from Bucky’s room while the rest of the team pretended to be none the wiser, your loud love making carrying all the way down the hall. Bucky happily disabled the sound proofing in his room before pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, railing you into the mattress.

“Baby you look so pretty when you’re all stretched out like this, c’mon you can take more, spread those legs for me baby, open up, c’mon, lemme in”

“HNG PleasepleasepleaseJames”

“So perfect when you beg, cock’s all yours mama, m’all yours, go on and use me, that’s it, ride this dick, you own me”

“Bucky, gonna-c-cum, gonna-cum!”

“Cum for me princess, God I love you”

“You want a snack?”

“Nick?”

“Uh-Nicole?”

“Huh?” Nicole whipped her head around to where Steve was innocently holding out the bowl of popcorn, while Sam stood up to grab more snacks before the movie started. She stared at everyone surrounding her acting as if they couldn’t hear the way you were screaming your vocal chords raw, the super soldier moaning louder than you, “N-no, I’m fine”

Tony cocked an eyebrow at the way her jaw clenched, mindlessly scrolling through her phone while Bucky’s thrusts punctuated with each word.

“Y’feel so. Damn. Good. baby, could spent my whole life like this making love to you”

“Fuck, I love you James”

“Ugh- they’re so loud” Nicole rolled her eyes again in hopes that someone would feel the same but all she got were blank stares back.

“I mean, terminator is practically in love with her” Tony shrugged while the others nodded in agreement.

“They’re cute. It’s about time they made it official, don’t you think?” Nat asked sweetly staring directly at her while Steve tried to chime in as well, his cheeks burning hot pink between the sounds of skin slapping and moaning.

“They sound so happy together” he stuttered out while Sam snorted, choking from laughter.

“Oh God, oh god, fuck-Jamie-JAMIE”

“Yup, real happy”

“I-I think I’m actually gonna call it at early night, stay at the recruiting center tonight instead” Nicole headed straight to the main doors without looking back, the rest of the team giving each other satisfied smirks.

Bucky collapsed beside you, panting, his short locks clinging to his forehead, a thin sheet of sweat covering his body. He truthfully stopped caring about what Nicole could or couldn't hear half way through, meaning every single word he said as he took you apart over and over again. You giggled at his shy smile when he pulled you into his chest, pulling the sheets over you both, kissing your forehead.

“I love you pretty girl. I love you so much”

9K notes · View notes

buckymorelikefuckme · 8 months ago

Text

and baby makes three

(the reboot)

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 11.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.

a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your own…

It’s a thought that’s sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that you’ve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.

And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.

You’re going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually you’re a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and that’s it.

Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes… and your steps falter. It’s there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. There’s matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.

Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what you’re doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.

It’s not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you don’t even have.

The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?

...Yearning?

No. Definitely not. Nope.

There’s absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. You’ve never even had that desire before and you certainly don’t see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself you’ll take it back tomorrow.

Except you don’t take it back. You conveniently “forget” and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you don’t pause in front of said closet throughout the following days—weeks—chewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.

It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor… It’s endless.

Then, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like it’s a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but there’s also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.

You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?

It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, it’s not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering you’ve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, it’s safe to say that you’re tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.

And god, do you even want a baby?

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mind’s eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.

Emotion consumes you then, longing like you’ve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.

It’s not as if you’re too young. You’re plenty old enough and you’ve got a secure job. You don’t subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while you’re still in relatively good health.

You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.

This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain it’s what you want. It’s going to change your entire life, everything, and you’d be responsible for a new life. So, you’ll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.

***

You’re scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you don’t hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.

It’s only when Bucky asks, “Whatcha reading?” that you are even aware of his presence.

You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.

“You could knock,” you grouse.

“Why give me a key, then?” he retorts, unapologetic.

You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”

He gestures to your laptop. “What were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.”

You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.

“Nothing,” is all your brilliant mind can supply.

Bucky’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he won’t press further. You remain frozen under Bucky’s suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.

Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.

He holds up the bags he carried in. “I brought lunch.”

You perk up instantly. “Did you go to that one place—?”

“With the fried rice you like so much, yes,” he finishes for you, smiling.

“You’re the best,” you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.

“I know,” he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.

He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. It’s just. That article is still lingering in your brain. There’s so many steps and hassles. Plus, it’s not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.

You’d only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.

Your first thought was that you didn’t think you’d let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. You’d shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but you’d quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random man’s sperm to have injected into your uterus.

Bucky’s still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. “And then he got Sam involved,” he’s saying, scooping out food onto the plates, “which, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.”

“I want to have a baby,” you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.

Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.

“This is… quite a mess I’ve made,” Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. “Where’s your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, I’ll do both.”

He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.

Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase you’d made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like they’re on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.

Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.

There’s another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.

“So… You’re serious.”

You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. “Yeah.”

He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. “Well, that would be because I’m not.”

“I don’t think I follow,” he admits slowly.

You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. “Look, I’ve thought about this a lot, okay? I’ve given myself months to really make sure it’s what I want. I’m in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I don’t want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.” You lift your gaze to his. “I want to have a baby,” you repeat firmly. “And I don’t need a partner to have one.”

You’re not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. Maybe it’s because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.

After a beat, Bucky amends, “Well, I mean… You do…”

“Oh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,” you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.

He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.

“Wait, so what were you reading when I got here?” he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.

“Let me see your laptop then,” he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You flounder for a second, scoffing. “What? No!”

“It can’t be that embarrassing, just show me,” he wheedles.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me see!”

“It’s private!”

“Don’t be a chicken.”

Your eye twitches. “I’m not a chicken.” Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, “Do not start clucking at me, Bucky. I’ll kick your ass,” you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.

You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like he’s gonna flap them like chicken wings.

“Ugh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?” You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. “There.”

Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like it’s in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.

“Wow,” he mutters finally. “You’re turkey baster serious.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?” he asks innocently.

When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Bucky’s face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Bucky’s laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadn’t realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.

“So,” he says after you've both calmed down.

“So,” you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice… I don’t know, there’s just something too clinical about it,” you reply, voicing your concerns, “It doesn’t feel right. I know I said I don’t need a partner, and I don’t, but… Having absolutely no connection is weird.”

You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Bucky’s food while you’re up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.

“Have you… I mean, did you think about… I’ve heard that, uh. Some people ask another person…”

He trails off, clearly frustrated that he can’t just spit out what he’s trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.

“I read up on surrogacy,” you say, biting your lip. “But I don’t think I’d want someone else to carry my baby.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t suggesting, uh, that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he rushes to say.

You tilt your head. “What did you mean then?”

“Well,” Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. “For the artificial insemination, have you considered… you know. Asking someone you’re close with?”

You frown, not following.

“For—for the sperm,” he clarifies, shifting in his seat.

“Oh,” you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. “Um. No? I wouldn’t even know who I could ask, to be honest. That’s quite the request, you know? Who would—“

“Me,” he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, “I would.”

Your own face heats. “Oh,” you say again, quieter.

You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.

For a list of reasons, really, with “it’s Bucky” being right at the very top. Like—sure, yes, you’re in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation you’ve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.

“Bucky,” you start, slow and careful, “this… This isn't something you can just jump into. It’s something you should think about for a while.”

He contemplates that for a second. “You’re right,” he concedes with a nod. “But…” He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. “Okay listen, this is important for you. It’s going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. You’re my best friend, alright? I—care about you. You should pick someone you can trust.”

He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. It’s nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way you’ve wanted for too long.

And if you’re really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. He’s in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You can’t say for certain.

Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.

“At least think about it for a few days,” you murmur reluctantly.

It’s the most acceptance he’ll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.

***

With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). It’s easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.

Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesn’t change.

You… You can’t masturbate with Bucky’s sperm inside you. That’s a line you refuse to cross.

And besides, he’s a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probably—definitely—won’t need to take that step. It’ll be fine. Probably.

Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since he’s only across the hall of your apartment building, he’s there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.

“Let’s make a baby,” is how he greets you.

“Hold your horses,” you reply, fighting back a laugh. “I gotta walk you through everything first.”

He plops himself down next to you on your couch. “Fine, fine. Go ahead.”

Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that he’ll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how it’s suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding it’s not pertinent information for him to know.

“When do we start?” he asks once you’re done.

“I have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that we’ll be able to, um.” You gesture vaguely. “I’ll be able to do the injections.”

He nods. “Alright.” He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.

“No, really, thank you,” you assert. “This is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.”

You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. You’re not sure he’ll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that you’d ever find a way to express it. He’s giving you so much more than just a baby.

***

The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh… sample. You do your best to not think about what he’s doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how he’s collecting his sperm.

Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.

A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact he’s knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.

His cheeks are pink when you open the door. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you return.

He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. “Here’s… well, you know.”

You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, “Will you stay?”

Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”

“Will you—I mean… Would you mind staying?” You shift on your feet. “This is a big moment for me. I-I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Are you asking me to…?” He trails off awkwardly.

“Oh! God, no, I wouldn’t—no,” you assure, huffing a laugh, “I’m doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. That’s all.”

Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”

Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.

“Um,” you mutter, turning to him. “You’ll have to, ah, sit out here,” you explain. “I have to be lying down…”

Understanding dawns on him. “Oh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” you promise.

He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe you’ll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.

This is it. There’s really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Bucky’s already said he’d help you for as long as it takes. It’s just… very real now. You don’t feel any doubts, though. You want this.

Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure there’s as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.

“Here I go,” you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.

A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and you’ve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Bucky’s name.

“You okay?” you hear through the door.

“Will you come here, please?” you ask.

He walks in cautiously, making sure you’re decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. “Well?”

“I did it,” you whisper.

He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. He’s beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.

“Congratulations,” he says softly.

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.

“Still,” he presses. “You’re one step closer now.”

He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.

“This isn’t how I pictured myself making a baby.”

It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.

Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.

“Same time next week?” he jokes, making you crack a smile.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he returns over his shoulder.

***

Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.

But nothing happens.

All of your tests come back negative.

When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, you’d understood that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that you’d be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself there’s no need to stress over it. Yet.

Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, there’s still one more method to try!

***

The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesn’t notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.

But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, you’re reminded that you haven’t told him about the, uh… change in procedure, so to speak.

You clear your throat delicately. “I don’t think you’ll need to stick around this time.”

Bucky frowns. “Why not?”

“Because…” You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?

“I promised you I’d be here every step of the way,” he recalls. “I intend to keep that promise.”

You wince. “I really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.”

“Why not?”

You look heavenward for mercy. ��I have to…”

When you don’t finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. “You have to… what?”

You huff, throwing your arms out. “I have to orgasm, okay?”

His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Have… have you had to do that before?”

“No. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I never…”

His eyebrows furrow. “Does it help or something?”

You absently scratch your neck. “They say it increases the chances of conception.”

“But you haven’t been doing… that.”

“I didn’t think I’d need to.”

Bucky inhales like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t.

“Yeah, so, I don’t think you should be here,” you utter, quickly adding, “No offense.”

“No, yeah, that’s fair, um. I’ll just—I’ll head back to my apartment,” he states as he stands. “You can—I mean, if you still want me to—I can come back over? After you… uh…”

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, voice tight and high.

He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.

Alone now, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know it’s not. It's really, really not.

Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You don’t know why you’re acting like such a prude all the sudden. It’s not like you’ve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didn’t have Bucky’s sperm hangin’ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.

“Quit being such a goober about this,” you tell yourself.

This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a baby—and you do, very badly—then you’re gonna have to deal with the process.

Once you’ve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet it’s hard not to think of a certain someone.

The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure they’re tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.

You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really don’t want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.

Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine he’d tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.

Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like they’re the finest whisky.

He’d mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good you’re doing, how good you sound. He’d start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then he’d change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.

When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. You’re quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding you’ll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.

Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. You’d given in to the fantasy so easily.

Truthfully, it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, it’s probably irrational.

That doesn’t stop you from cringing at your actions.

***

You’re sure you’ve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.

Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.

And wait.

You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.

It seems like hours have passed when you’re finally sure you can check them.

The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that it’s likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.

Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“What do I do, Bucky?”

At your broken whisper, he sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and you’re grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.

When you’re both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.

“Do you think…” he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. “Are you going to stop?”

“I don’t want to,” you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.

Bucky sits his fork down. “I know you want this, very much.” He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. “But I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so… powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.”

“You’re doing all you can, Bucky,” you assure.

“That’s the thing, though. I don’t think I am.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. “I think we should have sex.”

Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.

“I apologize for how blunt that came out,” he states with a wince. “But, I mean, think about it. You’ve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadn’t been, um, orgasming with it.” You look away, bashful. “I just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.”

“Bucky,” you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. “It’s one thing for you to offer your sperm, which I’m thankful for, truly, but… Having sex?”

“I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever I need to do,” he retorts earnestly. “Your happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. You’ve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.”

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.

His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.

“It won’t… It’s not going to change anything,” he assures. “I won’t allow it.”

You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. It’s going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.

Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that you’ve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you can’t go back. Not anymore.

“Okay,” you allow, softly.

Bucky’s shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.

You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)

***

Two nights later, you’re pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. You’d been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didn’t see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.

It’s Bucky, you think, and this isn’t a normal situation, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing.

You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.

“In here,” you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.

He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hi.”

You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.

“This is ridiculous,” he declares, “It’s just us.”

“Right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not gonna be weird.”

“Nope.”

His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.

“I’m keeping my shirt on,” you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.

Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.

“May I?” he asks.

Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.

Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know you’re already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesn’t mention it.

The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.

He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.

It becomes quickly apparent to you that it’s going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!

When he decides it’s time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.

“Can I…?” he asks, voice cracking, but doesn’t finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.

He’s not even looking back at you, he’s staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants to…

He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.

Oh.

Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing you’re probably going to regret it, you nod.

He’s leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.

His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until it’s bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You don’t think you’re meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.

“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.

Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm you’ve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know you’re moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and you’d feel abashed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.

Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You can’t even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second he’s whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.

Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.

“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.

“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.

He doesn’t let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When he’s in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know he’s trying to be polite and let you adjust, but—

“Oh my god, move,” you demand, impatient.

He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. “Bossy.”

“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”

The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.

He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.

You have to close your eyes. You can’t look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way you’d be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.

His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.

“Fuck,” you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.

The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, you’re not exactly being quiet, but you can’t be blamed for that.

Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if he’s holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then you’re clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.

He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.

Stop it, you scold yourself.

He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.

“O-Oh,” you whimper.

The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.

“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.

He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell you’re close, but you’re gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.

“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”

You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then you’re coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isn’t far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.

Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.

It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.

“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.

“That was…”

“Mhm,” you mumble.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Let’s hope it worked this time.”

You hum. “Thank you for your service,” you reply with a lazy salute.

You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that he’s still buried balls deep inside you.

“Um.” You cough lightly. “You wanna, you know… pull out?”

He looks down where you’re connected like it hadn’t even dawned on him. “Oh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.”

His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.

“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.

Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.

“Right.”

Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.

You can’t hold back yours, though, gasping once he’s gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.

Bucky’s intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.

“Okay, so.” He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. “This was—I mean, if it doesn’t take this time, we can… try again.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”

He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. “Great. I’ll just, um, see myself out, I guess.”

You nod, sending a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.

As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.

***

It’s not really like you mean to avoid him after that.

Honest.

You simply become busy, that’s all. You definitely don’t go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. It’s important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you can’t help that you’ve got boatloads of work to catch up on—all five times he asks.

Okay, so, that’s a lie. You’re totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You don’t think you’d even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.

That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.

More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. He’d only offered because you weren’t getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.

You try telling yourself to get over it. He’s your best friend, you can’t just cut him off because you’re a spineless pansy.

I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.

***

Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” he drawls.

His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.

“Hey,” you say after a pause.

He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let it get weird.”

You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. “I haven’t ever… I’ve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just… a lot.”

It’s a half truth, at least. You haven’t had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.

“You could’ve just told me,” he replies, reaching for your hand.

You nod. “I know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole… trying to get pregnant thing.”

“If I overstepped in any way—” Bucky starts, but you’re quick to interrupt.

“You didn’t,” you promise. “You’ve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, you’ve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. I’m fine, I swear.”

He searches your eyes and must find what he’s looking for.

“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.

Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.

***

Another week passes.

Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. He’s reassured you that you’ll keep trying until it happens if it didn’t work this time.

When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath you’ve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.

Positive.

Your stomach swoops. It’s positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.

“Okay, wait, no, I need to do more. I can’t get my hopes up again,” you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.

You don’t even wait for Bucky to leave before you’re peeing on the other sticks. He’s seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesn’t seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.

The timer goes off again. You feel like you’re going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.

Every single one of them… Positive.

A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.

He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.

“Did we…?”

Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Bucky’s face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and you’re suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what you’re doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.

“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”

“Shut up,” he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.

He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.

“I have a confession,” he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.

“What?” you question distractedly.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.

“I’ve been selfish this whole time,” he reveals. “I couldn’t let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldn’t bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I’m not sorry I did it.”

You’re hearing the words, yet your brain can’t seem to make sense of them. Surely you’re hearing him wrong. You can’t possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his baby…

But he’s here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like you’re his entire world.

“Bucky…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. “I-I’ve loved you for so long now, I didn’t think you…” You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. “I couldn’t let myself hope.”

He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. “I know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”

Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. “Are you sure?” you still ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.

He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but he’s always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.

When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.

“You make the most beautiful sounds,” he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.

His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.

“Bucky, please,” you beg.

“Please what?” he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. “What do you need?”

You whine, canting your hips up. “You, I need you, please.”

“You have me, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Fuck me, please,” you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until you’re so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?”

“Oh god,” you mumble.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.

His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and you’re sure you’re going to lose your mind before the day is done.

“You have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,” he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. “I was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.”

He shifts until his mouth is directly above where you’re dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.

“But now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.”

You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldn’t have been able to say it aloud, because then he’s descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.

He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises you’ve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.

He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.

You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and you’re not sure if you’re making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until you’re shuddering from sensitivity.

He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.

“So good, did so well,” he mutters.

Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.

“That was great and all,” you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, “but I do believe I asked you to fuck me.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was done with you?” It’s apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you there’ll be zero doubt I’ve put a baby there.”

Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. There’s barely a pause and then he’s fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.

“Can feel you,” Bucky says through panting breaths, “so close. C’mon, let me feel you.”

He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”

He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.

“Hi.”

You crack a smile. “Hi.”

“Ready for more?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You think you got it in you?” you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Bucky’s eyes light up.

“Interesting,” he muses.

Another slap, a little harder than the first, and you’re whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.

“I’ll play with that later,” he promises, voice breathy.

You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He can’t pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.

“It’s a good thing you love me back,” you whisper in his ear. “Nobody else could ever compare to you.”

He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.

“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.

You moan. “Yes,” you agree, whining, “No one else could’ve given me a baby.”

Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. You’re picking up on a few hints and you can’t say it’s not doing it for you either.

“Filled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.

The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Bucky’s grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. You’re sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.

“C’mon, baby, wanna feel you too,” you beg.

His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. It’s beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.

You know you’re gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you don’t mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.

“Maybe we should go again later,” you suggest faintly.

Bucky grins. “We can do it a hundred more times if you want.”

“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”

His smile goes soft at the edges.

It’s not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isn’t going to be simple or easy, but it’s necessary.

For now, though, you bask in Bucky’s warmth and loving embrace.

***

Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where you’re sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.

“They didn’t have the banana ice cream you asked for,” he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, “but they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.”

“What about—”

“And your strawberry Fanta,” he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.

You’re unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.

Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, he’s been even more attentive and accommodating (and that’s saying something).

You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or there’d be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then you’d be alright.

It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you to already give up before you’d even started. So you’d taken a deep breath and leaped.

Now, you’re five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didn’t attempt to hide his disgust over that.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask on a pleased sigh.

He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.

“You were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.” You snort at that, but he’s undeterred. “And you’re giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.”

Instantly, you’re crying. He’s grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.

“Stop being so disgusting,” you blubber through your hiccuping cries. “You’re such an asshole.”

Bucky laughs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, kissing him. “Love you,” you grumble.

He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. “And I love you, little lady.”

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how it’s supposed to… And you wouldn’t change a thing.

#avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #i can't remember how to tag bye

2K notes · View notes

aurumalatus · 2 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 (𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔)

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.4k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers (yes kinich literally invented this trope okay. sue me), mini-drabbles, childhood to university, modern!au, fluff and slight angst, lots of bantering but it's light-hearted i promise

summary.

you've always been a sore loser—kinich is just the only one brave enough to say it. or, you and kinich fall in love over the course of your lives, and one thing never changes—you're both idiots

author's note. credit to @/scythidol for the header images! a bit of a different fic format this time (who is she....). i'm sick over kinich, i have nothing clever to say or excuses to make. that's all, thank you for reading! i'm finishing this at 5am so i'll fix any errors later lol. reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

“You’re annoying.”

The old TV in your backyard treehouse buzzes with static and the constant thumps of Kinich’s fingers against the controller buttons.

It’s a summer evening—crickets chirp merrily in the grass and lightning bugs float lazily through the air, glowing among the stars. You’re sitting next to him, knees pulled to your chest and the straw of a Capri-Sun settled between your lips.

His reaction (or lack thereof) to your words leaves you less than entertained, a sour pout fixed on your lips as he sighs.

“You’re a sore loser. We said whoever got up here first got to play first.” Despite the intense game occurring on the screen in front of him, he diverts about half his attention to watching you out of the corner of his eye. “And I got up here first.”

“But you always win,” you whine. Kinich nudges at his own juice box with his knee, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and holding it to his lips—he drinks gratefully, still focused on his game. You’re not sure why you keep agreeing to this bet; you don’t think you’ve ever won.

“Then you need to get faster.”

Both of you know that such a feat would be impossible—Kinich has been the fastest kid in your grade since you started school. His athleticism affords him a bit of popularity, still at the age where winning a playground race is essentially the deciding factor between the cool kids and the lame ones. But he’s not interested in any of that, and he makes that quite clear in his actions.

After all, all the popular kids avoid him since he started a fight with them last year.

“They were saying things about you,” he’d shrugged, like it was no big deal. The school seemed to think a bit differently, and his suspension felt like the longest week of your life.

The screen flashes then, a loud and colorful display that shows the words “you win”. Kinich leans back in his seat, a pleased half-smile spreading across his face.

“Okay, now you can play.”

He tries to hand you the controller, but you huff, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I don’t even wanna play anymore.”

Kinich is far more mature than you at this age—even your own mother tells you as much—so he merely sighs, accepting of your tantrum.

“Okay, what do you wanna do then?”

You ponder that for a moment. There’s a lot of things you do often, but many of them are things that Kinich is much better at than you. Playing video games, climbing trees, riding bikes—he’s far more talented at them all. It’s one of the reasons you even became friends in the first place—you’d practically begged him to teach you to beat the final boss of Super Mario Galaxy, and the rest was history.

“I don’t know,” you mumble noncommittally, blowing your straw wrapper at him. It lands right on target, bouncing lightly off his forehead as he rolls his eyes.

“Come on, whatever you wanna do, we’ll do it,” he says, poking at your cheek. “I’ll even play house.”

And you know Kinich hates playing house—he has boundless amounts of energy most days, and house isn’t “challenging” enough of a game for him to expend it. But he does it occasionally, just for you.

You brighten at the prospect.

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, already descending the treehouse ladder, waving you along. “Let’s go inside first, though. I’m hungry.”

Scrambling to your feet, you jump down to meet Kinich, already standing in the grass.

“Last one inside is a rotten egg!”

II.

The rainstorm ends just as classes dismiss—when you walk out the school entrance, a slight drizzle is still letting up, fresh puddles lapping at your toes. Kinich’s gaze finds you instantly as he slinks out of the school gates, bag tossed loosely over his shoulder.

“My socks are wet now,” you whine, patting down the edges of your skirt to look down at your shoes. You’d only just bought them recently, and your mom likely wouldn’t be pleased with the prospect of you ruining them so soon.

Kinich chuckles at first, a snarky sound as thick as the gathering clouds, only to sigh when your pout persists.

“Alright, alright,” he relents, squatting to the ground and gesturing for you to get on his back. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

He’s a bit frail, still in his growing phase—his bones and muscles shift rhythmically under his skin as he walks—but he’s so distinctly warm. The heat makes you curl closer, nose brushing against his neck.

He walks you home most days like this, spending the day at your house until the sky grows dark with dusk. His home life is something he rarely discusses, but you know enough, and you’re happy to welcome him to yours.

“You’re slow,” you mumble into his shoulder. The steady thump of his steps is comforting, nearly putting you to sleep.

“You’re heavy,” Kinich replies teasingly, adjusting your weight atop his back. His words are biting, but he’s being careful with his steps nonetheless, taking each one lightly so as not to jostle you.

“You’re rude,” you scoff back. His nose scrunches in annoyance when you loop your arms tighter around his neck, pretending to choke him as punishment. “You’re not supposed to say that to a girl.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, peering up at the newly visible sun that starts to dip low in the sky. You watch a cat scurry through the bushes to your right, golden eyes peering through the foliage before disappearing into the darkness.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying it to you.”

Kinich is always a bit wittier than you, a bit quicker to the punch, but you like that about him. You like a lot of things about him, and you’re sure he knows it, too. A weighty silence settles between the two of you, unnatural—it’s usually you who fills the silence, and Kinich who patiently listens.

But something bigger sits at the back of your mind, and the words are having trouble surmounting the obstacle of your tongue.

You’re still floundering for something to say by the time your house appears in the distance. The sight lights a fire under you—you don’t want to discuss something like this with your mother in earshot. You force the words out, voice weak and small.

“I heard Mualani confessed to you yesterday.”

The rumor had flown through the school like wildfire. Mualani is popular with the boys after all, so there’s bound to be quite a bit of heartbreak if she ends up in a relationship. Someone had seen them together at that sakura tree behind the school, and it instantly became a hot topic—it’s all you’ve heard about all day.

And though you know it’s not really any of your business, you can’t help but be curious, and the thought fills you with dread.

You manage a glance at his expression, searching for any sort of unrest, but he doesn’t show any at all. In fact, he seems wholly uninterested in the topic.

He shrugs. “Yeah, so?”

You take a deep breath for courage—you’re not sure you want to hear his answer.

“So? What did you tell her?”

And it’s nothing against Mualani, really—she’s kind and beautiful, and you wouldn’t blame Kinich for falling for her. She’s never done anything wrong to you at all. But a beat passes, and you’re already halfway through mourning the end of your long-time crush when he replies.

“I told her I was flattered, but I wasn’t interested.”

A sigh of relief escapes you then, but you reel it in quickly—he can probably feel you relax against his back at his response.

“Oh,” is all you say, as aloof as you can manage. Kinich latches onto your hesitation instantly.

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” comes your hasty reply. “...Is there any reason you said no, though?”

He frowns. “I don’t know. She just isn’t my type.”

“...Then what is your type?”

You’re going too far, you know—even just speaking the words has your chest twisting painfully, and you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. If Kinich isn’t an idiot, he can surely tell why you’re practically breathing down his neck over the whole thing.

But maybe Kinich is a little bit of an idiot, at least about these things, because he merely shrugs.

“Not sure. Never really thought about it.”

A frost unfurls in your chest, bitter—of course Kinich wouldn’t know, he’s never thought about anyone that way. Including you.

“Right.” You attempt a laugh, teeth gritting. “It’s all stupid anyway.”

You drop your head into his shoulder, trying to hide the pained expression on your face, and only then does Kinich’s stare flicker to you, soft.

“Right,” he says, a quiet rumble from his chest. “It’s really, really stupid.”

III.

Walks turn to drives when Kinich turns sixteen and buys his own car.

He’d saved up for months, working part-time jobs on weekends and after school, until the day finally came when he pulled up into your driveway, keys in hand. Your mom had been overwhelmingly proud—bought a cake and everything—and you’d merely been grateful that you no longer had to beg her to drive you places.

It’s nothing crazy, just a simple sedan, but it represents a freedom that the two of you have never experienced together before.

That’s how you end up parked underneath the flickering streetlight just outside your house, excitedly recounting a story to your best friend. He’d driven you home from your club after school, an errand that always ended in several other stops—today, it had been fast food and boba.

His eyes seem to glow in the fading daylight, a pretty jade and amber that you’ve always thought was beautiful. It feels a bit more intense with his stare trained on you—Kinich isn’t the talkative type, sure, but he always ensures that you know he’s listening.

“So then she was asking me about you.”

“Mhm.”

“And get this,” a nervous chuckle escapes you then, “she thought we were dating.”

Everything falls still.

It’s times like this that you really start to hate just how unreadable your best friend can be. Despite how much you tease him for it, you actually enjoy how difficult it can be to force an expression out of him—it’s a little challenge every day. But now, when you’re on the precipice of pouring your heart out, his impassive expression stings.

Nothing on his face changes, save for a slight tilt of his head—he’s considering your words. The silence feels endless; a lump starts to form in your throat, humiliation burning at your cheeks.

“I know, it’s so ridiculous,” you assert hurriedly, trying to avoid the rush of shame. “I mean, we would never—”

“Tell her we are, then.”

You’re sure that in that moment, your heart stops.

Truthfully, you hadn’t planned to get this far—you were planning on brushing over that part of the story and moving on, but something deep in your heart had forced it out of you. Now, you aren’t sure what you really want to happen.

It’s always been your underlying fear, that once Kinich finds out, everything will change. Or even if he does return your feelings, it’ll all go up in flames eventually and you’ll never be the same. It’s terrifying enough to have kept your mouth shut all these years.

A tense laugh erupts from your throat, cutting through the silence. “I—I mean, it’s not that simple—”

He arches a brow. “Do you not want to?”

That’s another difference between you and Kinich—he’s far more straightforward about getting things that he wants. It’s one of the reasons that people misinterpret him as cold, but he sees it as being logical.

You gnaw at your lip, fingers tracing over the car door. Do you?

If the countless daydreams and romantic notebook doodles are anything to go by, you do. You really do. You’re just not sure if you’re brave enough to take that step.

When you look at him again, he’s observing you carefully, a delicate fondness lying in his stare. You shrink under the weight of it.

“No, I do,” you admit quietly.

The moment falls still, and your eyes are drawn to the only movement within your line of vision—the quick bob of Kinich’s throat. Then, his hand advances toward your face at a measured pace, giving you endless opportunities to retreat.

Of course, you don’t.

“Can I…?” he asks, barely a brush of a whisper. The tension runs thick in the air as his tongue peeks out, swiping over his bottom lip at a tantalizing pace. It’s nearly enough to drive you crazy, but you know he’s just as anxious.

“Yes,” you breathe, wincing at the sound of your own voice—it sounds almost too eager.

But Kinich presses his lips to yours all the same, soft and wanting, and your heart flutters in your chest. It’s a chaste kiss, nothing like the fireworks-exploding-making-out-with-tongue types you’ve seen on TV, but it’s just right—it feels like him, and that’s all that matters. He pulls away slightly, lips still millimeters away from yours.

“I like you. If I’m not wrong, you like me too. I think it’s that simple.”

You almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Though you’d never admit it, you’ve practiced this scenario thousands of times in front of your bedroom mirror—what you would say to him, what he might say to you. Leave it to Kinich to not follow the script.

But he’s always done things his own way, so really, you should’ve expected this.

Gently, he reaches for your hand, fingers slotting through yours with ease. You sigh.

“I guess it is.”

IV.

“...that far, huh?”

Kinich stares at you upside down, head dangling off the edge of your bed as you sit at your desk, laptop keys clicking rapidly. He knows you’re serious about your future goals; you both are. He just never imagined it would bring the two of you so far apart.

You pause with one hand resting on the mouse, still staring at the screen. The map looks so daunting, too daunting, and you can’t imagine being that far away from him.

An awkward, weighted silence hangs in the air, and by the time a few seconds pass, you’ve already foreseen eighty different bad endings for this situation. Clearing your throat once, you force yourself to speak.

“Kinich, I—”

“I get it.”

He doesn’t mean to interrupt you so suddenly, but he does. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. Because while he does understand—he really does—he also can’t help the stinging sensation of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. It feels pathetic. It feels selfish. Here you are, chasing your dreams and supporting his, and he’s caught on the fact that there will be a little space between the two of you. And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but maybe you’ll get tired of waiting and—

“You’ll come back to me, right?”

There’s an unmistakable thickness to your voice, evidence of the steadily growing lump in your weary throat. It grows larger with every passing second, an insurmountable mass dwarfed only by the impending distance between you and him.

That question catches Kinich off-guard, and he nearly wants to laugh then; not because he doubts you at all, but because he doesn’t, and he finds it ridiculous that you would ever think otherwise. Here you are, worrying about him.

Kinich doesn’t have any doubts or fears. He never does when he’s with you.

Maybe that’s why.

With a light laugh, he lets his eyes flutter closed, finally allowing an uneven breath to fill his lungs. The natural light outside is slowly dimming, the fluorescent lamps dotting your street flicking on one by one. He knows he should go home soon. His car is sitting outside, the same one the two of you have had endless adventures, fights, and make-ups in. It’s the same one he will use when he moves an unfathomable distance away from you. The same one he will use on the day you will cry, clinging to him like your life depends on it, before watching him disappear into nothing but a mere dot in the distance.

His fist clenches at his side.

But you’re still here, the closest feeling he has to home, and you’re still in love with him, and he is still in love with you.

Maybe that’s why this is enough, for now.

Turning onto his stomach, Kinich sees you right-side up this time, and it’s like nothing has changed.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

A knock echoes on your apartment door in the middle of the night.

You raise a brow at the sound, a bit unnerved—a lone college girl answering the door in the dark isn’t the safest thing, you think as you peek one eye through the peephole. But there’s a familiar figure standing outside, and it has your hand turning the knob immediately and flinging the door open.

He’s here.

“Kinich,” you breathe, in disbelief. Last you’d heard, he was somewhere halfway across the country, and certainly nowhere near your front door. But he’s here, in a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, looking like he’s just walked out of your dreams.

“Hey,” he says simply, as if his appearance hadn’t been totally shocking. He takes advantage of your shell-shocked state to invite himself inside, curiously looking through your apartment. “Nice place.”

You step aside in a daze. “Kinich—you—what are you doing here?”

He’s holding three flimsy bags in his fist, grocery store logos and restaurant labels stamped over the plastic, keys hanging off his pinky finger. He’d come prepared, clearly, but for what you’re not sure.

He towers over you a bit more than he used to, hair a bit longer, and everything about him feels so grown up. It reminds you of all the moments the two of you have missed over the years, how much change has occurred beneath your nose, maybe without you realizing.

He spreads the bags over your kitchen table—the mouth-watering smell of Chinese takeout filters through the air, and your stomach grumbles in reply. But it’s your tear ducts that react initially, a sting at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them shut.

Kinich doesn’t notice at first, absorbed in inspecting the photos displayed on your wall—photos of you, photos of him, photos of the two of you together. It makes his chest warm that you still think about those times. He does too—after all, it’s rare that you leave his mind.

But he turns back to you, tears running rivers down your cheeks, and his breath hitches.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, carefully cupping your face. A lilt of panic laces his voice. “Does something hurt? Are you sick?”

“You’re here,” you sob, curling into his shoulder. None of it feels real. He’s warm and firm beneath your fingers, and you clutch at him tighter, half-expecting everything to disappear. It’s so much different than FaceTime or calling or anything else you do when he’s away. Because right now, he’s completely within your reach, and everything falls into place.

“Of course I am,” he murmurs. You cry into his hoodie, soaking the fabric with your tears, but he holds you close all the same. “Because you’re here.”

You spend a few minutes that way—you crying until your tears dry over your skin, and him comfortingly rubbing at your back. Air slowly returns to your lungs, and you sniffle, glassy eyes meeting his.

“But why? I mean, it’s the middle of the semester, isn’t it?”

A rare half-smirk graces his lips.

“We made a promise. I came back to you first. So I do believe that means that I win,” he says. If you weren’t so emotional, you might have rolled your eyes—of course, all he ever focuses on is winning.

He drags you over to the couch, laying down and pulling you on top of him, safe. You draw closer to him, tangling your limbs together until you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

“You’re annoying,” you whisper, muffled into his chest.

Kinich shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re still a sore loser. Thought you’d grow out of that by now.”

You grumble a few choice words at him, and he smiles—a sight that only you and the stars can claim to have ever seen.

And he’s right; you are a sore loser, and he’s been right just about every time he told you so. But you find it doesn’t matter, not really.

You could never win against Kinich anyway.

(Maybe you never wanted to.)

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kinich x reader #kinich #kinich x you #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #adeptus ink

901 notes · View notes

luveline · 5 months ago

Note

Feeling a bit emotional and would really appreciate something short but sweet with Steve telling reader he's proud of them.

You’ve been through a lot. It’s not nice to hear about all the bad things that have happened to you, how people have been cruel, or how you’ve been alone, but Steve is grateful to get to know these things about you. He feels entrusted with something very important whenever you retell a bad memory; he can keep it, help carry it, take some of the weight from your burdened levy.

He’s happy to do it, even in the moments where you forget all that stuff.

“You did,” you insist, face pressed into the couch, a tired hand to his cheek as you stroke your smooth nail up and down his skin. It tickles badly. He never wants you to stop. “Steve, you knocked him on his ass. He had bruises.”

“I don’t remember,” he lies. He smashed into Dustin so hard during a game of baseball the poor younger boy didn’t wanna play, and Steve was very sorry for the bruise he got to the coccyx afterward.

“No, you wouldn’t remember. That’s convenient.” You’re just teasing, caressing his face, in a world of your own that Steve gets to be in too when he’s lucky.

He thinks everything of you —you’re so sweet, so kind. Even now you’re lamenting that Dustin got bad bruises and tapping up to the corner of his eye with your fingertip, gentle, loving. He wonders how someone who’s experienced the hardship that you have would be able to just walk it off, but then he remembers you don’t walk it off. You carry it. You’re carrying it as you speak, and you're smiling at him.

You’re Steve’s best friend, his great love, all the heartfelt junk.

“I felt bad,” he says with a little laugh. “Does that make it better? I did feel bad. He hit the floor so hard.”

“Your laugh makes me feel like you don’t have enough remorse.”

“I’m super remorseful.”

Your fingertips slide into the hair just atop his ear, and you start the motions of a small scalp massage.

“You’re–” Steve searches for the right word. Skirts around sincerity, and doubles back when nothing else conveys what he means. “You’re pretty amazing.”

“And amazingly pretty,” you murmur, tucking hair behind his ear and pulling it out again as you scratch his scalp, a repetitive motion.

“I don’t tell you enough.” He slips down in his seat to be the same height as you, catching an eyeful of your soft jaw, your lips, every inch of you kissable.

“That’s not the sort of thing you have to tell me,” you say.

There’s some awkwardness there. He really should tell you more. “I’m serious. You’re amazing, you’re so kind. Everything that’s happened to you, and you’re unstoppable.”

He’s aggrandising, a little, to get through it without sounding like a too sincere idiot, but then he notices your expression shift at his tone and decides he can’t do that to you, because he’s not joking. He clears his throat.

“I didn’t have much to do with it, but I’m proud of you for everything. You’re a good person, and you didn’t have to be.” He holds your elbow to pause your ministrations against his scalp, leaning in to kiss your cheek gently, though he stays there, and his nose draws a line down to your lips.

You breathe in without saying anything.

“…You’re proud of me?” you ask under your breath.

Maybe it’s weird, but he is. “I just think you could’ve turned into, like, a huge dick. But you’re you.” He puts all the weight on it. “You’re amazing.”

Your hand falls to his arm. “You think so?”

“Of course I do.” He steals a soft kiss before he puts his cheek beside yours, expecting your hug before you give it.

You wrap him up like a pretzel. “Why are you saying this to me?” you ask worriedly.

“I just want you to know. I’m always proud of you, and I don’t know if I ever said it out loud. I think it’s– it’s hard to get hurt so much and get up again, but you do.”

“I guess you’d know about that,” you say, curling into him. Your hug is without stress nor worry, just a want to be close to him, your voice laden with warmth. “We keep getting beat up. Maybe that’s why we’re good together.”

“And another hundred different reasons,” he says pointedly.

“Thousand reasons,” you correct yourself. “Thanks for thinking about me, baby.”

With the way you say baby, Steve will be thinking of you for the rest of his life. “Can I rub your back?” he asks. It’s your turn for some affection.

“Oh, no, please don’t rub my back, you know I hate that,” you say, sarcastic mumbling as you stretch against his chest.

Steve hooks you against him. “I know. I’m the worst.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

478 notes · View notes

pupkashi · 8 months ago

Text

rookie f1 racer satoru gojo decides the best way to kick off race weekend is going to a coffee shop

a/n: hi friends ! here is the first one shot for my f1 racer!gojo au :3 i am so beyond excited to start these, they won’t be a cohesive series & can be read alone! i will make an au masterlist though :] please enjoy and let me know what yall think !! if there’s any ideas or requests yall have for this series send them in !! reblogs very appreciated <3 ok that is all bye bye ! <3 also both gojo and reader are early 20s since i have him in his rookie season

word count - 3,444

masterlist

LIGHTS OUT & AWAY WE GO !

there’s not many people out during usual work hours, kids are in school, adults are at work, and the world is a little quieter. it’s something satoru had grown to love. between all the cameras reporters, he just wanted some peace, and no one knew peace quite like coffee shops.

satoru sauntered into the building, it was unassuming enough, a few people scattered throughout the establishment, all too engrossed in their own work to look up. he doubted he’d get recognized by anyone in here.

he orders and gets his drink and pastry fairly quickly, sitting by the window and watching the world pass by him. life seemed to move in slow motion, the leisurely paces of someone walking their dog making him relax a bit.

“hey! is it cool if i use this outlet?” the voice makes him jump a bit, turning around to face whoever it was speaking.

you smile softly at him, hoping he would be kind enough to just let you charge your laptop. you figured he’d be attractive, his hair’s an eye catching bright white color, contrasting to the black shirt and sunglasses he had on. you caught a glimpse of his blue eyes as he looks at you, nodding before clearing his throat.

“yeah go ahead,” he returns the smile, motioning for you to plug in your charger.

“I’ll just leave it here to charge, i don’t wanna bother” you state, quickly plugging in your laptop before moving to walk away.

“you can sit if you wanna, it’s no problem” he rushes out quickly, hoping it was enough to make you stay. his breath caught in his throat as you turned to look at him.

“are you sure?” he nods quickly, “yeah no worries! I’m not doing much of anything right now,” he grins, regaining his composure and taking a sip of his drink.

it’s quiet between the two of you before you speak up, “you like Mercedes?” satoru feels his blood go cold, looking at you with a confused expression. you gesture to his shirt, “you’ve got their merch on” you laugh.

“oh! yeah they’re pretty cool,” he nods, watching as you smile and nod, focusing on your screen again.

“i didn’t know they had merch like that,” you admit, “maybe it’s just ‘cause im not super into cars.” satoru feels relief wash over him, his shoulders subtly relaxing before he’s looking at you again.

“it’s their f1 team merch” he says, “i work for them, actually.” his hearts beating a bit faster as you make eye contact with him, looking up from your laptop.

“oh? that’s so cool! you’re a mechanic or-?” your head cocks a bit to the side, smiling when the man across from you breaks into a wide grin.

satoru debates going along with your idea, but he can’t bring himself to lie to you, not when you’re eyes are shining at him.

“i actually race for them, im a driver” he corrects you gently, your eyes widen a bit and you cover your mouth as it opens.

“oh my god I’m so sorry! i don’t know a thing about formula one” you laugh nervously, “i knew there was something going on with all the extra fuss in the city but i had no idea what.”

he smiles at you and waves off your apology, “don’t worry! it was nice having someone to talk to that’s not yelling at me to sign something” he cringes a bit at the way the words rolled off his tongue, but you still smile at him, going back to working on whatever was it was you were doing on your laptop.

“one of my friends is actually getting into f1 i think, is there someone named,” you trail off as you think of the other mans name, “i think it’s Charlie? charles? one of those two” you laugh nervously, satoru’s ears perk up at the name.

“charles leclerc?” He asks, your eyes light up, “yeah that one! he’s a racer right?” satoru nods at you.

“yeah he races for ferrari,” you nod along to his words, realizing you hadn’t caught his name yet.

“what was your name, just so i know who to root for when people ask my favorite driver” you grin, a twinkle in your eye that makes his stomach flip.

“I’m satoru, satoru gojo” he reaches his hand across the table for you to shake, you can’t stop the soft chuckle that leaves your lips as your hands connect, a firm shake against his much larger, warmer and calloused hands.

a comfortable silence falls between the two of you as satoru finishes his drink off and you continue to focus on your laptop. satoru can’t help but continue to look your way, thinking you were absolutely breathtaking.

you on the other hand, had your heart beating against your rib cage as you pulled up your messaging app on your laptop and quickly texted your best friend.

I HAD TO PLUG IN MY CHARGER BUT THE ONLY OUTLET WAS NEXT TO THIS SUPER HOT GUY AND I ENDED UP SITTING IN THE BOOTH W HIM AND WERE TALKING AND HES AN F1 DRIVER ???? DID I MENTION HES HOT AS FUCK??

you wait a couple minutes, your friend has yet to reply as your leg bounced under the table.

“what are you working on? if i may ask” the question makes you immediately close your messages and go back to your google document, looking blankly at the paper in front of you.

“it’s some busy work for a class im in, required by the university” you shrug, “was getting through it pretty quickly until my laptop died on me” the snowy haired man smiled at you, laughing softly as he pulls his phone out.

satoru scrolls aimlessly on his socials, nothing seemed as interesting as you did, sitting practically across from him engrossed in your work. the two of you made easy conversation for the next hour or so, not realizing how much time had passed since youd sat down.

you’d tried to get up and leave after you turned in your assignment and laptop was charged, giving him privacy you imagined he yearned for. but satoru was quick to tell you to stay, “you don’t have to go! it’s nice talking to you” he says, “like a breath of fresh air.”

and so you sit back down, the two of you falling into place as if you were old friends, people who’d known each other in years past and were catching up. you didn’t ask about his job or his career, asking about him and what his favorite color was, his favorite season and if he actually liked his coffee as sweet as it has smelled.

you kept reminding yourself this was gonna be a one off thing, he’d leave and you’d part ways, never talking again as you inevitably turned on an f1 race, seeing the pretty man on your tv screen and imagining what could’ve been if you were a bit braver.

it had been nearly three hours since you’d sat at his booth when his phone starts buzzing, quickly answering the call from his manager. his small smile turns to a faint pout as they tell him to head to the paddock for free practice in a couple hours, sighing and telling them he’d be on his way shortly.

you feel disappointed as you hear the words, not wanting the bubble you were in to burst, wanting to stay seated across from the attractive man for as long as you could.

“I’m gonna head out, have to go work” he jokes, his smile widens when you laugh, “i hope you pass your exam thursday,” he’s doing everything in his power to linger around, trying to figure out a way to spend more time with you.

you laugh softly and nod your head, “it’s open note so hopefully it’s not too bad, but good luck at your race! I’m sure you’ll do great.”

satoru’s bright blue eyes light up at your words, you could almost see the lightbulb forming atop his head, making you furrow your brows slightly in confusion.

“why don’t you come? to the race this weekend? are you busy?” the words tumble out his mouth in an unorganized jumble of excitement, he’s beaming at you with his bangs in his eyes, sunglasses barely balancing on the tip of his nose.

“oh i couldn’t, those tickets must be so expensive and i don’t wanna bother-” satoru is cutting you off with furrowed brows and a bewildered expression his face.

“you think I’d make you pay? don’t be silly,” he grins, “I’ll get you some good seats and maybe we can meet up after the race?” he can hear his heart beating in his ears. was he being insane? a little bit. did he care? not at all.

you bite your lip for a second, it’s not like you had an insane amount of work, plus the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on was asking you out to some crazy sporting event you’d only heard of in passing.

“okay yeah, i think i could squeeze it in my schedule” you grin, watching as the man across from you smile at you. he’s quick to ask for your information, immediately sending it off to whoever it was needed it and was informing you of all you needed to know.

“I told them to give you an extra ticket so you can bring a friend so you’re not too lonely waiting for me” the words make your face and ears heat up, trying to remain composed in front of him.

“well i guess I’ll see you sunday then?” the words make your stomach flip, wondering how he’d look like with his gear on.

“see you sunday” he smiles at you, waving goodbye as his phone buzzes for a second time, hurrying out of the coffee shop with his whole body buzzing from excitement.

you don’t fully process the entire interaction until you’re sitting in your apartment, phone lighting up from a new email.

Mercedes F1 team PR

Good afternoon! We are elated to send you two tickets to invite you to this weekends Grand Prix race! Below you will find all the information…

you open it quickly, reading the entire thing twice before you’re rolling onto your back and giggling uncontrollably, giddy beyond belief to see satoru again. your fingers itch to look him up, deciding against it and locking your phone as you try to continue on with your day.

sunday arrives quicker than you thought it would, your friend following you into the circuit as you try to figure out where to go next, looking around helplessly as you look down at your phone and at the map provided.

“are we supposed to go down there?” your friend points, both of you staring at each other blankly. the two of you wait for a second before looking around once more, taking a leap of faith and walking with confidence where you think you had to be.

your friend is much braver than you are, flagging down someone in a staff shirt and showing them the ticket, they’re quick to lead the two of you in the opposite direction, making you and your friend hold back laughter until you’re finally seated.

satoru was anxiously looking around, he wasn’t exactly sure where they had seated you, but he’d requested you be close to the garage, wanting to say hello before the race.

“you’re a lot more antsy than usual” the deep voice makes him look away from his phone. nanami kento, right hand man to Toto Wolff and next in line to take over the team principal position.

“I’ve got an important guest I’ve gotta impress” satoru replies quickly, putting his phone away and walking towards kento, “I’m gonna rack in some points today” he winks, making the blonde roll his eyes.

soon enough satoru is seated in the car and on the grid, mind completely focused on the race ahead, taking deep breaths as the red lights appear.

you couldn’t help but watch some race clips last night, figuring you should know some basics and not show up completely clueless. the videos, however, didn’t prepare you for how fast the cars truly were, engines sending vibrations to your chest and stands shaking as they raced by.

“and gojo overtakes hamilton! the rookie had a terrible qualifying yesterday, but seems as though he’s back in the game today” the announcers words blare through the speakers, chest blooming with pride as they talked up satoru.

you’re focused on the primarily black car, watching as he zooms past the stands at unbelievable speeds. your heart racing as he passes other drivers, cheering when he successfully overtook them.

satoru continues to climb up the ranks, cinching a position on podium; second place, sandwiched between verstappen and leclerc. he’s hopping out of the car and celebrating with his team, squeezing kento a bit tighter than the rest. his blue eyes are focused on the crowd as he waits his turn for the post race interview, trying to catch sight of you, mind racing as he wonders if you even came.

he smiles at charles as he passes him, walking up to the interviewer and answering the questions with generic answers ‘I’m beyond excited for the rest of the season’ and ‘I’m looking forward to the day i win my first Grand Prix’ along with thanking his support system and team before kindly thanking the interviewer and heading to the winners room before the podium ceremony.

satoru’s messy hair is covered by the Mercedes hat, taking it off and ruffling it a bit, sighing when he scans the crowd one last time and doesn’t make you out, turning around and closing the door behind him.

you only make it to the floor area moments after charles walks out, slightly out of breath as they call out satoru’s name.

the snowy haired racer is waving to the crowd, a semblance of a smile on his face as he stands on the podium, eyes still searching the crowd in one last feeble attempt to spot you.

satoru feels his heart skip a beat and face turn even redder as he locks eyes with you, a much more genuine smile on his face when he gives you a little wave.

you’re heart races as you make eye contact with the driver, adoring the way his cheeks flushed and skin looked honey like under the rays of the sunset. you smile and clap as he raises the trophy, pointing directly at the trophy then at you.

this one’s for you

maybe you’re a hopeless romantic, or maybe he’s just too hot and charming to not fall for, but you feel your heart giving in and walls crumbling as he shakes the large champagne bottle, dousing the other two until all three of them were dripping with champagne.

satoru finds you in the garage after 20 minutes, thanking his manager a hundred times over before walking up to you. his race suit only on from the waist down, black fireproof sticking to his body perfectly and snowy white hair tousled and wet from a mixture of champagne and sweat.

“you came” he says, making you nod and smile at him sweetly.

“why wouldn’t i? my favorite driver invited me” you reply.

satoru rolls his eyes and snickers, “im the only driver you know,” he watched you grin up at him sheepishly, “still you’re my favorite!”

“you did really good out there by the way” the words make him smile wider, biting his lip softly.

“yeah?” he asks, you nod your head, far too nervous to trust your voice as he looks at you, head too scrambled to figure out the emotion painted on his face as he looks at you. “good enough that you’d consider going on a date with me?”

it seems like it’s just the two of you in the busy garage as you smile up at him, tilting your head as you nod, “yeah I’d consider it.”

you think he looks almost angelic under the fluorescent lights in the garage, his white hair looks like a halo as you look up at him, pretty blue eyes a stark contrast against his fair skin and black uniform.

satoru thinks you look unbelievable, hair falling perfectly and voice sweet as honey as you talk to him, a saccharine smile on your lips just for him, the thought makes his knees buckle and brain stutter. he doesn’t care how whipped he looks as he takes you in, relishing in the moment before he speaks up.

“I’ll be off the clock next time,” he jokes, loving the way your giggles sounded. it feels like a relief off his shoulders, grinning widely as the two of you continued to talk.

“I’ve gotta get out of this uniform, but I’ll text you?” he looks down, biting his bottom lip as he fights a smile before looking back up at you, hoping you’d get the hint and give him your number.

you smile at him and tilt your head, “is that your way of asking for my number?” satoru blushes, smiling at you shyly and nodding his head, you can’t help but giggle as you grab a piece of paper and pen from the table besides you, scribbling your number and a smiley face. “here, don’t lose it.”

satoru grins, “i don’t lose.”

the sky is dark by the time you exit the garage, biting your lip and fighting back a smile as you meet up with your friend, finally heading home for the night. gushing about the interaction, reliving every moment and squealing at the memories.

when was the last time you’d felt this way? when was the last time you’d let your guard down so quickly for someone?

it was strange. the way your heart leapt when you saw him, the way your face flushed when he spoke to you and the way you felt so comfortable with him.

“maybe he’s your soulmate” you friend wiggled their brows at you, teasing you as you roll your eyes.

“or he’s putting up a front and he’s like every other guy” you shoot back, biting your lip. he felt, different. genuine.

“you don’t have to be so pessimistic! you never know he could be the man you spend your life with” they shrug their shoulders, smiling when you fall silent and hum.

you’re showered and in bed when your phone vibrates, a new text message from an unknown number.

satoru had spent an hour drafting the text, deleting it and typing it out again, removing and adding emojis until he forgot what he was even trying to say, starting over and groaning. when was the last time he was this nervous to text someone?

he can’t recall ever wanting to spend more time with someone the way he does with you. the though of love at first sight crosses his mind, making his face burn and dimples pop as he smiles.

hi it’s satoru ! thanks for coming to the race tonight , i hope i can see you again :)

his heart pounds against his chest as the three little dots appear on his screen, holding his breath when they disappear and reappear time and time again.

you continued to delete your text, trying to figure out how to word your text before finally biting the bullet and pressing send, heart racing as it says delivered, then read within the minute.

thanks for inviting me ! it was a lot of fun,, I’d love to see you again also :3

satoru squealed at the text, biting his lip before replying back, giggling at your every text and replying as fast as he could. the two of you texting back and forth until your eyes were too heavy to keep open, wishing him a goodnight. satoru was already pinching himself to stay awake, somewhat thankful you were also tired as he wished you goodnight, setting his phone down and falling asleep moment later, the faintest of smiles painted on his lips.

you grinned as you locked your phone, setting it down and biting your lip before squealing into your pillow. he wanted to see you again. you didn’t fight off the smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered shut, slowly falling asleep, then all at once, dreams filled with blue eyes and white hair and expensive, fast cars.

there’s no better place to find a lover than at a coffee shop on race weekend.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @sadmonke @lovelylixie

669 notes · View notes

rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months ago

Text

≡;-꒰ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝑶𝒖𝒓𝒔

╰┈➤ ❝ caleb x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 day 10

tags : porn with some plot, porn with feelings, newly-established relationship, oral fixation, nipple play, softdom!caleb, flat-chested!reader, slight insecurities about being flat-chested, silly bickering, drinking mention (but no one gets drunk), kissing and making out, body worship (ish?), masturbation (f), dry humping, use of pet names "pipsqueak" "baby" “princess”. lmk if i missed any tags !!

wc : 5.4k (whoops!)

an : i had a lot a loottt of fun with this and also i know this is super super overdue, but~ a req for @anxiousgoddest !! bc flat is justice <3 (tysm for waiting patiently !!!)

taglist : @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @theanbitchless (SIGN UP HERE)

AO3 / KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

Wherein a game of truth or dare leads you to take the next step in your relationship, and Caleb proves to you just how much he loves you.

"And you have to give me the recipe! How could you have kept this from me the entire time?!"

Scrambled, frantic noises scattered around by the doorway, and you chuckled as you helped Tara gather and put her shoes on. It was a usual scene, and she was still rambling on like she often did. "It's not my recipe, Tara," you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Yeah, but, come on!! Hiding a whole master chef in your bedroom—”

“Tara!!!”

Despite the mortification clear in your eyes, beside you, Caleb rolled his eyes and let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, yeah, alright, point taken,” he placed a hand over her shoulder. With a raised eyebrow, he shuffled her out. “Sor-ry, but a secret stays a secret! At least, hey, you can just come over next time, right?"

Effectively, it seemed to placate her curiosity just a little bit. Just enough.

You watched the sparkle in her eyes seemingly grow to be more obvious, as she clasped her hands together and said—"Oooh! An invite? I could never turn that down! That’s a promise, Caleb!"

And your eyes softened at the playful banter.

Tonight had been the first time that Caleb had officially met Tara and your other Hunter friends, and you appreciated how naturally he got along with them. He might have owed it to his easy going personality, you thought, but it meant a lot to you knowing he could be just as good friends with them as you were. For all that Caleb wasn't around as often as you wished he would be, the little mutual connections made you happy.

In fact, Tara was even the last one to leave your little gathering, having stayed back a little bit for a second helping of Caleb's cooking. You couldn't blame her, of course—you would’ve stayed back for it, too! But it was amusing to know that she had certainly taken to expressing her approval of your relationship with him, enough to playfully demand for his recipes.

Because, in her words, "it's only right for the best friend to have access to them, too!"

The thought of it made you laugh.

Now, as night fell and she hurried to catch the last train home, you watched as she hopped out of your apartment with another cheerful wave. "Take care, Tara! See you tomorrow!"

Caleb shook his head as he watched her dash down the corridor of your apartment complex, and then softly closed the door.

For the first time that night, there was a peaceful blanket of momentary silence.

And then he turned to you, leaning against it.

"Sooooo," he began, grinning slyly.

You knew that look.

"Now, we have the place all to ourselves again... What're you up for?"

Grateful you were standing near the couch, you picked up a nearby pillow and threw it at his face. "Caleb!"

Naturally, he caught it with ease. "What!?" he laughed. "I didn't say anything, I didn’t even do anything! I was asking you what you wanna do!"

"Well, don't make that face then!"

You threatened to throw another pillow at him, holding it in your grasp. But Caleb only shook his head with a smile, and it was easy for him to stride over, grasp your hands above your head, and pry the pillow away from you. It was smooth, and there wasn't a single chance for you to resist as you allowed yourself to be enchanted by that look in his eyes. He stared at you like that for a moment, the soft smile on his face never leaving, his closeness still inevitably making your heart race.

And then he pulled away.

You watched him walk over to sit properly on the couch, and you wondered how he still had the audacity to pat the space beside him.

You made a face.

"C'mon," he sighed, rolling his eyes in slight amusement. "At least cuddle with me? We haven't had the day to ourselves yet, cut me some slack, pipsqueak."

In all honesty, you weren't opposed to the idea. It had been a tiring day, so full of socializing and work that relaxing in his arms was a proposal that was surely more than inviting. But your pride, always raised impossibly high in his presence, made it harder for you to give in. You were used to it, in a way. Having known him for nearly your entire life meant you've adapted to it all; the banter, the teasing, the playful competition you often had with each other... It was just odd to think otherwise.

Yet, over recent months, your relationship had progressed into something more.

Something that should have allowed you to submit to your own desires for more affection for him... Only to find out that old habits died hard.

Still, he opened his arms expectantly, and even you hadn't the heart to reject him like that.

Slowly, you walked over to settle beside him. It was natural, the way his arm draped around your shoulders, the way you would shift to lean against his chest. The smell of his cologne—one chosen deliberately, you noted, given that it was your favorite of his—provided a comfort that made you relax. And you wondered why you were really all that hesitant in the first place.

With a quiet sigh, you watched him reach over to take the remote from the table and then point it towards the TV.

"How about a movie?" he suggested.

And he looked down at you, his gaze gentle.

You figured, you could at least indulge him a little bit.

"Mmm... Maybe not a movie?" you started, softly.

"Tired? I get that. We can just go to bed if you—"

"No, that's not what I mean."

A silence followed.

You'd cut him off, but you looked away. You found that it was difficult to bring up the topic at all, even if you wanted to.

"Pipsqueak?"

This time, his voice was devoid of the usual teasing, softer than you were used to. He set the remote back down beside him, and used his hand to gently guide your chin upwards to look at him.

It was that look.

Warm, and gentle, and so full of adoration.

The look that would always give you butterflies.

A little pout formed on your lips.

"Don't look at me like that..."

In response, he laughed, moving ever so closely, lips only a few inches from yours. "Hm? Like what, pipsqueak?"

You weren't having whatever game of catch he was playing with you, and you clicked your tongue. With a quick, light kiss on his lips—basking for a moment in the shock that spread across his features—you turned back away and crossed your arms.

"Like... Whatever it is that you're doing!" you huffed. "You don't know half the thoughts I have in my head because of you!"

"Yeah? C'mon. Try me."

Another pillow thrown unsuccessfully at his face—one that he caught with frustrating ease—and another laugh escaped his lips. It was one that gave you more butterflies than you'd have liked to admit.

Yet, be it the fact that he'd known you for nearly his entire life, his expression softened again. As if he knew to stop teasing; as if he knew there was something you wanted to talk about.

"Hey. Talk to me, princess."

Princess.

Not pipsqueak, not even your name—a nickname he reserved for the softer, more intimate moments you shared. A nickname you've only ever heard so lovingly from his own lips… a nickname for you.

Your eyes closed.

"Just… I've been thinking," you started, quietly, slowly, as if gathering your thoughts. "I mean, I don't know if now is the time and place for it, I was just..."

When your voice trailed off, he was quick to place a reassuring hand over yours, the warmth of it a comfort that was enough to get you to continue.

You cleared your throat, and tried again.

"Could we... Go further, do you think?"

The silence that followed this time was deafening.

For a moment neither of you seemed to speak, and you couldn’t dare bring yourself to meet his gaze.

“... I’m sorry. Forget I brought that up. We can just cuddle and put on Howl’s Moving Castl—”

“Hey, no, we could.”

Caleb interrupted you before you could bother to do whatever damage control was even possible at that point, and your words remained stuck in your throat. You were hyper aware of his presence next to you, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, and in light of what you’d said, it almost seemed too much. The moment he brought his other hand to rest on your thigh, you nearly could have jumped.

Perhaps your jumpiness was something he had sensed, too.

“Look at me?” he spoke softly, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. One of reassurance; one that you recognized.

And when you did meet his gaze, he shook his head with a smile.

“We could, princess, but only if you reallyyy want to.”

There was a very slight teasing lilt to his voice that you could just barely make out, and his eyebrow raised.

Of course, Caleb was Caleb.

He knew you too well.

“Sooo?” he flicked your forehead. “What’s the holdup, pipsqueak? That’s what you said, but… Seems like you aren’t sure you want it, either. What’s got this on your mind today? Talk to me.”

Ah…

You smiled wryly at him, a sigh of what appeared to be defeat escaping your lips. And instead of answering immediately, you allowed yourself to fall back against him, eyes closing for a little moment.

“...It’s awkward, huh?” you mumbled.

He didn’t quite reply, but he let out a hum for you to continue.

“Just… This whole thing. Like, I’ll admit it, I think about it. A lot, actually. It’s just… I don’t know how to cross the line without feeling like I’m ruining things between us.”

“So… You think about it? Really? Does it get you all w—”

A pillow to his face.

That teasing grin you knew all too well was plastered back on for you to see, and the sound of his laughter filled the living room.

“That’s not the point!” you protested. “I said all that I did, and that’s what you focus on?!”

“I was kidding! I was kidding! I swear!”

Still laughing, he had enough decency to raise his hands into the air, allowing you a free, unobstructed hit with the pillow you still wielded.

Satisfactory enough.

Your shoulders relaxed, finding familiarity in your childish banter, and the pillow rested back on your lap.

“Okay, but real talk…” He settled back beside you, giving you a little nudge. “It’s not just you. I think about it, too. And I want it, so I think… we could ease into it, y’know? Doesn’t have to be all at once, we can take our time.”

“Yeah, but… how? We make out all the time, but it’s not like it’s all that easy to just… go from there…”

He thought for a moment.

A brief silence passed yet again, and you peered at him curiously, before he spoke again.

“How ‘bout… Truth or dare?”

When he met your gaze, his head tilted sideways. Naturally, there was a playfulness to his voice that was almost always just there, but the seriousness in the way he looked at you compelled you to believe he wasn’t joking.

“Truth or… dare?” you furrowed your brows.

He shrugged.

“Yeah, s’fine, right? We get to be honest with each other about what we feel on the topic, and, you know… there’s also the aspect of dares bein’ there, and all…”

He had a point.

But if you were going to be honest enough with whatever answers you were going to give, and if you were going to build the courage to do whatever dares you had to do…

You stood up, and Caleb watched you quizzically as you walked over to the kitchen to get a single bottle of soju from the fridge.

“Wh— Hey, c’mon! Really? Do you need that?! Aren’t we doing this sober?!”

You rolled your eyes at the astonished expression on his face, setting down two shot glasses and the bottle before resuming your position cross legged on the couch. Your trusty pillow was nestled neatly back over your lap. “Oh, whatever. Not like we drank anything today anyway, and before I drink, I’m giving you my consent. I do want this, I just, you know… need a little push, that’s all. I’m not about to get myself drunk, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The doubt in his eyes seemed placated, and after a moment, he sighed and reached out to pour both of you a shot.

“Okay, alright, fine. Then… Rules?”

“Mmm… Three truths and three dares at a time. If you run out of truths, you have to do a dare next, and vice versa. Fair, right?”

You spoke before downing your first shot of alcohol, allowing yourself to savor the sensation with a momentary close of your eyes and a little sigh.

Across from you, you heard Caleb let out another one of his chuckles.

“Okay, okay… Fair's fair. Sooo… Since you drank just now, let's start with you. Truth or dare, princess?”

The question made you pause.

It was as if the reality had dawned on you, that you were really, truly doing this, and it took a moment before you could answer him—eyes fixed onto the pillow on your lap, a small frown on your face.

“Baby, if you don't want to pl—”

“Truth.”

At this point, you maybe regretted a little bit of the rule you’d imposed.

You reached out to pour another glass of alcohol, but Caleb’s hand shot out to grab your wrist.

He gave you a pointed look.

“Alright, c’mon. Drink later. You literally just had a shot. I’ll go easy on you, relax!” His hand gave you a little squeeze as if to prove a point, and then only after you had huffed and settled back in your seat did he give you your question.

“Okay… So what do you think of me?”

A simple enough question.

He was right; he did go easy on you.

But your frowned and crosses your arms, opening your mouth to speak—

“Like, really think of me, princess. C'mon, you know why we're playing this.”

The smirk that tugged on the corner of his lips proved that he knew exactly the type of answer you were about to give him, and you rolled your eyes.

Caleb was Caleb. He did, in fact, know you very well.

So you took a moment, mulling it over—because simple as the question was, the answer itself was far from it.

You thought many things about him.

That he was annoying.

That he was a tease.

That he could very easily get on your nerves, but that he could—just as easily—soothe them.

He was fun. Kind. Easygoing. Comforting.

He was reliable, dependable, protective, a little bit of a worrywart with you… But he was gentle. He was sweet. Loving, and caring—he knew you best. Every little tell, every little habit… Everything about you. And that was one of the reasons that you were drawn to him; always have been drawn to him.

You let out a slow breath.

Because you realized that at the root of all of these things… there was love. There was trust.

“I think… I could trust you,” you mumbled. “I think that even if it's a little scary trying to navigate this whole relationship that we have right now… You've always been nothing but caring towards me. So, I trust you. I trust us. And—”

A wry smile played at your lips as you raised your eyes to look back at him.

“And I think you're handsome. Because I know you want me to say that, and, like, fuck it, fine. You're hot. It's true.”

“Oh, yeah? Do I make you feel ho—”

“Caleb!” You raised your pillow in warning, and he laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re so easy to rile up, pipsqueak. Geez… Never change.”

For good measure, you hit him again anyway, before crossing your arms once more and giving him a pointed look. “Truth or dare?”

“...Truth.”

His answer came after a period of silence. But this was a question you didn't need to think of.

“You said earlier that you've thought about this, too… What… What have you thought about?”

It seemed as if your question had come as a surprise to him, and you took delight in the way that his eyes had widened.

“Huh—well— Well, of this, right? Of… of you,” he said slowly. And he had every opportunity to take this question to goof around, but he averted his gaze, a slight action that gave you reassurance he was taking this just as seriously. “The most we've ever done was just… kiss. So, sometimes I think about other things. Like maybe how you'd look underneath all that, or the faces you'd make, the sounds you'd make, how you'd feel…”

There was somewhat of a bashfulness in the way that he spoke this time, not deliberately teasing you, but clearly wanting to give an honest answer. He ran his fingers through his hair, before he sighed. “Since we’re bein’ honest, I’ll also say I think about those a lot when you dress up a little. If you find me attractive, then it’s the same for me of you, y'know? But I've been tryin’ to wait it out ‘til you brought up the topic, so…”

Your cheeks grew warmer the more that he spoke, and with a huff, you, too, averted your gaze. “Geez, shut up…”

“You asked me that question!”

“Yeah, but I was just— you know…! I mean, I was curious how far your thoughts went!”

He scoffed. “Truth or dare, pipsqueak?”

“Truth!”

You answered really without thinking, and then immediately paled with the realization that you had one more truth left.

With a groan, you reached for the bottle. “Hold,” you muttered. You took a second to take your second shot, before motioning for Caleb to continue. “Hit me.”

This time, he smirked.

“When was the last time you touched yourself?”

Your jaw dropped.

“Wha—what?!”

“What, what! You asked me that, so of course I'll step it up!”

“You menace—” You shot him a glare, but it wasn't as if you were upset about it. Instead, with a bright red coloring the tips of your ears, you turned your head away.

“Two nights ago,” you mumbled. “Before you got home.”

“Whoa, so not too long ago, huh? Aww, princess… what were you thinking of?”

His words didn't at all help the flush that spread on your face.

“Wh—hey! No double-asking! Or triple-asking, for that matter!”

“But obviously it's me, right? Did you miss me that much, baby? Didn't know you got so needy in my absen—”

“Oh, shut up! Like, when was the last time you jerked off, anyway?!”

He smirked.

“No double-asking~”

You groaned as you kicked at him with your legs. “Fine! Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

Caleb was a lot bolder than you.

There was little need for him to hide behind the ‘truth’ option, and it surprised you little to hear him, this time, choose otherwise.

Yet it was just as much of a test for you as it was for him.

Because what did you want from him?

You knew the answer to that, in a sense—you wanted a lot. But desire was a difficult thing to navigate. And just like it had been difficult for you to answer your first question in a way that was coherent, it was just as difficult for you to think of this.

As you looked him over in thought, there was that nagging feeling within you that so desperately wished you wouldn’t be so awkward about it.

“I dare…” you fiddled with your hands, trying to search his eyes as if the answer would be written on there. “I dare you to make the first move.”

Your gaze fell back to your lap.

“And, truth,” you added, “because the truth is that I don't know how to, and I have to be a little pathetic and hide behind a game like this even though I can't bear to keep waiting any longer when I want you so goddamn badly, so—”

He wouldn't give you a chance to complete it.

Immediately, a pair of lips crashed onto yours, and your eyes widened. Words were immediately swallowed back into your throat. You felt yourself pushed back against the couch; his fingers found themselves in your hair, lips coaxing at yours to relax with him. This feeling… You knew it by heart. Familiar, while simultaneously not. Gentle, but at the same time… desperate. And for the first time that night, you really, truly realized, that this was something he wanted just as badly as you did.

Slowly, your arms snaked around his waist, breathing a little heavy when he pulled back.

“...That was your turn just now, right?” he mumbled. His forehead pressed against yours, hand moving from your hair down to cradle the side of your face. “So it's my turn again. Gimme another dare.”

Your breath hitched.

He was doing this on purpose.

Allowing you to ask of him what you wanted, allowing you to dictate the pace of this moment—because he knew that he would follow through with it.

It was you, after all.

And for all the times that you've felt loved, and cared for, and prized, with him…

You felt seen.

You looked into his eyes, all sunset-colored and real, full of warmth and kindness and all these things that you have always, always felt with him… You could melt like this. He wasn't teasing you this time. He was being genuine.

You wanted him to feel seen, too.

“What do you want?” you whispered back.

He let out a soft laugh through his nose.

“Nah, this isn't truth, pipsqueak. You're supposed to give me a dare, right?”

“But… What if I wanted you to act on your desires?” Your hand moved up his back to rest around his neck, leaning up slightly to nuzzle against his nose. “I know what you're doing. And it's working, by the way, so thanks. But… If you're okay with taking whatever dare I throw your way… Then I'm okay with whatever you decide to throw my way.”

“Baby…”

“We're still playing? Then I dare you to show me what you want from me.”

Slowly, he shook his head.

“Sure but… I don't want from you, princess. I want you. This isn't give or take. It's just…” He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a soft sigh. “It's just me wanting to love you.”

He leaned in again, pulling you in for another kiss. It was a quicker one this time, but not any less tender and not any less sweet than his kisses usually were with you. He pulled back with a little pull on your lower lip, before shifting towards your jawline.

“Caleb…”

Tiny little fluttering kisses, and his head dipped, nuzzling against your neck.

“...Your shirt,” he mumbled. “It's your dare, right? Are we cool with taking this off?”

At his words, your cheeks flushed—suddenly, the realization that you had never gone this far felt more real than ever.

As if sensing your hesitation, his head lifted, and he looked at you carefully. “Too far? Wanna backtrack?”

You shook your head.

It was just like him to prioritize you still.

“No, just, mmh… You've never, you know… Seen me naked or anything before…” You reached out to run your hands through his hair.

“Shy?” he murmured.

“...Yeah. A little.”

“S’no need to be, pipsqueak. Hey, we were honest earlier, right? You're real beautiful. I already know that. I don't need to see what's underneath your clothes to believe it.”

“I know, I know… Just, I dunno… Be nice, or something? Ah… I think I'm just nervous.”

He smiled.

There was a tiny, light flick at your forehead, and he rolled his eyes playfully. “Did ya think I'd be mean?! Hey, c'mon. Is there something you're not telling me?”

It was your turn to smile, because hell.

He had proven time and time again how you couldn't possibly hide anything from him.

With a playful huff of indignance, you reached down to lift up your shirt, ever so slightly. “I'm not hiding anything. I was only… Well, it's just. It's not like… It's not like they're big, or anything. Not my favorite thing in the world to show off…”

He stopped you.

“You're worried I'll be turned off? I could never.”

“I know that! It was just a silly thought. Feels like guys tend to prefer it when we aren't flat-chested, so I was only—”

“Princess.”

“What?”

“So, I'm gonna take you up on your offer… And I'm going to, maybe, have my way with you just a little bit.”

You blinked.

“Huh? Where's this coming from?”

“Just—hey, there is nothing wrong with having a small chest, and hell if I'll have to prove it to you.”

“That's— that's not— It’s fine, you don’t need to—”

He tugged at your shirt, eyebrow raised as he began to lift it up. “Nuh-uh, I'm gonna spoil you today. You are going to lay back and be a little princess for me. Sound fair?”

It was near comical how insistent he was about it, and with another roll of your eyes, you raised your hands in mock surrender. “Geez! What, has this always been like, a fantasy of yours or something? Help yourself, I guess.”

Yet you couldn't keep the smile off your face.

In seconds, your shirt was lifted off of you, your bra following suit, both placed somewhere else on the couch. And his eyes raked over your figure.

“God… You're beautiful. Seriously. You've nothing to worry about, nothing at all.” His voice became lower, breathier. The sound of it was enough proof to you of what the sight of your breasts was doing to him. And the moment that his hands moved to hold them, your eyes followed the trail of his fingers, the sheer difference in size as he held you making you swallow thickly.

His touch was searing.

Despite the way that he would gently knead at your flesh, you couldn't help but squirm beneath him. Almost pathetically, you could see the way your nipples pebbled with the slightest touch, leaving nothing of your arousal to his imagination.

But you could tell that he was only just beginning.

A low, barely-audible groan could be heard from his throat.

And within the next few seconds, he edged closer and closer—his fingertip grazed ever so close to your nipples, but not quite touching. A tease, as he ever was, he would circle around and around, the sensation just barely there. And then he would move away. Back to holding you, massaging your little mounds, giving you a little squeeze.

When your eyes met, there was that damn smirk back on his face.

“Feeling good?”

He looked satisfied with himself, and he had every reason to be.

Your cheeks were bright red, lips parted. Every so often a wordless gasp would escape from your lips—maybe his fingers would get a little too close, the tingling feeling shooting straight through your core and having your body jump almost as if an involuntary response.

And then you felt it.

All the while maintaining eye-contact, you let out a whimper as he flicked the pad of his finger over your bud.

“H-h—nn—!”

You could lose it.

Every little tease had you feeling more sensitive than you ever thought you could get, and yet, here he was; your nipples between his fingers, rolling it real slowly, feeling you up in a manner of both worship and playfulness that only he could truly pull off.

He tugged on them just a little bit to give you that jolt of pleasure, and you arched.

The sensation a welcome shock, your eyes widened.

“C-Caleb—?!”

“Hm? Oh… So y’like it like that, huh?”

He was fascinated.

He trained them to his touch, every rub, every pull, every slightest touch having you writhing beneath him.

“D'you think… Can you… cum like this?”

He didn't give you a second to answer.

It was as if he was insistent on making that happen. Immediately his warm lips were on your chest, burning through your flesh in a way that felt nearly all-encompassing; a heat higher than his touch, you felt almost as if he could devour you.

Yet aside from the pleasure, you could tell that this was more than that.

This was the extent of his desires, and the extent of his love.

The way he would fondle you with such adoration could have burned you, strong hands snaking down your body before holding you in place, tonguing over your nipples.

He licked, and sucked, and lapped, clearly never even wanting to pull away anymore, and the slick between your thighs was undeniable.

And again, for all the times that you've felt loved, and cared for, and prized, with him…

You felt seen.

That was what his love was like.

That even in the midst of something so lewd, with wet, embarrassing sucking noises filling the room… Somehow, some way, you felt loved.

To be loved is to be seen.

How odd, you thought, that in this moment you couldn't possibly think of a better way to describe the way he made you feel.

In this moment, all your moans and whimpers began to fall from your lips more freely, and you nearly choked at the feeling of him rutting against your thigh, the bulge in his pants more than obvious to you.

There was something so arousing about the fact that he'd gotten undeniably hard from this.

You couldn't help yourself anymore.

“Caleb… Cale—hng—Caleb—! F-feels good…!”

Your hand snaked down, desperately pushing down your pants. Every suckle at your flesh spurred you on further, fingers dipping right into your head with a wet squelch, and he groaned.

Having resorted to leaving open-mouthed kisses and barely-contained licks all over your chest, his hips moved faster, rubbing against you, chasing a friction. Your hands matched the pace—thrusting in and out, your own eyes closed at the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling.

“Shit, holy shit, baby,” he hissed.

You caught his gaze travel down to the hand between your legs, panties pushed messily to the side as your sopping wet cunt took every thrust of self-pleasure.

In the next moment his lips were back on your perky, swollen little nub—

And you are gone.

It was so easy.

Your release crashed over with a cry from your throat, hips spasming, mouth held open, head thrown back in pure pleasure.

Caleb wouldn't stop.

There was an air of desperation in his movements, and your free hand flew to his hair, the other sliding your fingers out of your pussy to claw at the couch—”Caleb!” you cried again.

You tugged at his hair.

One last suck before he came, sticky mess ruining his sweatpants, seeping a little bit onto the skin of your thigh.

You groaned, falling back against the couch.

“You… My god… I can't believe you…!” you huffed. Your chest heaved, and your words, your tone, carried very little—if at all—genuine reprimand. He knew that, probably. Because instead of replying, his mouth was back on yours, stealing your breath away like it was so easy for him to do, before you felt him pull back.

This time, he sat up.

“You're fucking amazing,” he muttered.

He wiped a little bit of excess drool from his face, and shook his head. “Just—holy shit, princess. I don't think I can ever get enough of you.”

A pause.

You caught your breath, before reaching for the collar of his shirt and yanking him back down.

“Then don't.”

You weren't quite sure if it was the adrenaline from all of this, or the little bit of alcohol coursing in your veins, or just the fact that you had done this, that made you feel a little… bold.

Your eyes locked with his, taking in the bewilderment, the shocked silence.

You smiled.

“I said I trust you, right? Don't hold back, Caleb. I dare you not to.”

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

296 notes · View notes

norman-fucking-reedus · 3 months ago

Note

Hey babes, love your work so much🩷

Could you possibly write some body worship and appreciation on daryl (including giving him head)? Like really sweet and caring but also hot as fuck? Lord knows he dederves/needs to hear it😩 Also another idea that popped into my head, could be in this or another fic, but him pulling your hair while fucking you from the behind, not like super rough or anything just kinda affectionate.

Pardon my rambling and thank you for always feeding my inner whore!💖

IT'S JUST A BODY OF YEARS

"That I leave all alone"

THE FUNTIME PARTS: Daryl x Fem!Reader, big boy is insecure, body worship, blowjobs, tbh daryl is a bit subby in this, face-fucking, gentle sex with some gentle hair pulling, creampies and a breeding kink of course

this request is another really old one that I only just recently got an idea for because for some reason I've been absolutely feining to just suck daryls dick. like I want his man peenar in my mouth like candy.

i feel like he gets overly insecure pretty often, some of it dates back to his childhood because I feel like there were definitely times where daryls father shamed him for eating or being "too big" at a young age, so there's always been some self-hatred that he just needs to have kissed and sucked away

I did take a little mental health break and i feel a bit better, I ended up having to go through my drafts and inbox to clear out mainly the super old requests that I just had no interest in, I really really wanna open my reqs back up for new and fresh ideas but first I have to finish the ones I already have

if this flops im deleting my blog and tumblr

Daryl Dixon wasn’t a man of many words, and he didn’t need to be in order for you to understand him.

His body spoke for him, from shy hands resting on your hips to soft kisses trailing up your neck, Daryl never needed to voice how he felt about you, and he knew how you felt about him, but sometimes he couldn’t figure out why.

Even now, as he stands in front of the mirror with his shirt off nitpicking at each imperfection littering his skin, he still can’t figure out why.

He was nothing but a low-class hotheaded redneck from deep in the south. You were so far out of his league that it was almost unbelievable that you'd ever want someone like him. Someone as breathtakingly gorgeous and downright stunning as you stuck with someone as dirty and disgusting as him.

The skin of his body was so rough and utterly ruined, cringing at the feeling of raised scars on his chest under the tips of his blistered fingers. How could you ever feel an attraction to someone like him?

He folded his arms across his chest, growling softly as he frustratedly blinked back angry tears as he tore his eyes away from the mirror, straight up offended by the state of his own body.

You approached him from where you were watching sadly in the doorway, sliding gentle hands around his waist and feeling him jerk away from the sudden contact in his vulnerable state. He never wanted you to see him cry. Hell, at this point he didn't want you to see him at all.

“Dun' look at me” He mumbled, arms tightening around himself as a wave of self-hate washed over him once more, your touch burning against his skin.

“But I love looking at you,” You whispered softly, hands trailing up his sides and coming to a rest on one of his biceps. “I love all of you”

Daryl shook his head, hiding his face behind his hair as hot tears welled up in his eyes again. “How? Why?” He had so many questions, but none of them seemed mattered when your hands ran up his arms and gently tried to pry them from his chest.

He balled up his fists by his sides, but you stepped in front of him and brought them into your own. “Well to start, I love your hands. You just don’t know how good the hands of a hard-working man feels” You said as you kissed the palm of his hands, nuzzling your cheek against them in a cat-like manner. "So rough and ragged, but so gentle and kind"

Daryl flushed a little as your face made contact with his palm, almost reflexively hold your cheek as you held it against your skin, kissing a soft trail against his palm, moving to his wrist and down the length of his arm.

Daryl did take a lot of pride in his arms, and you knew that better than anyone, dragging your fingers along his forearm where you could feel the veins protruding, bringing the digits up to his large bicep. “I love your muscles, my big strong man who can carry me anywhere I want with your drool-worthy arms"

At that, a small smile cracked on his face, but it disappeared once your fingers made their way up and across his chest, easily becoming insecure all over again.

He brought a hand down to your waist to stop you, squeezing it as you moved your hand to his face, softly cupping his cheek and brushing away his tears with your thumb. “Hey, it’s okay. I call you 'handsome' as a nickname for a reason, 'cause it’s true” You whispered, staring into his sad eyes. You pressed your lips against his, and then to the side, down his neck. "You're gorgeous to me, Daryl"

You mumbled the words against his skin as you kissed and sucked your way down his neck, taking your time as you went across his collarbone, down to his rounded pecs, all the way across his chest, softly trailing over bumpy scars on his oh-so-nicely sculpted abs, slowly lowering yourself down onto your knees as you worshipped your absolute hunk of man.

"I love your whole body. So built and sturdy, big and thick," You said in a sultry tone as you glanced up at him, running a hand over his bulge and cupping it through the fabric, watching the way his face flushed a deep red all the way down to his chest. "Just so perfect"

Daryl's fingers tangled gently in your hair, almost nervous as you pressed open-mouth kisses against his now-straining cock, sucking on the growing wet patch where his tip was. A deep groan pulled itself from his throat, your lips moving against his flesh as you moved to pull his boxers down with your teeth, yanking them the rest of the way down until he was in nothing but his bare skin, putting all of him on display just for you.

You kissed his defined hipbones, wrapping your hands around thick thighs as you trailed along his v-line, peppering feather-light kisses around his pelvis and reaching the base of his cock, his pubic hairs bushy yet somewhat trimmed.

"M'not the same from when we first met" Daryl whispered, his blunt nails scratching at your scalp as you glanced up at him, shrugging a shoulder as you teased his side with your fingers. "It's called growing up, Dar. To be fair, you were quite a chubby cutie back then"

He scoffed slightly at that. "Ain't no different now, 'always been on the bigger side"

"And I love that. Makes you so warm and loveable" You smiled softly as you placed a wet kiss against his tip, running your tongue down the underside to the base, taking one of his balls into your mouth before licking your way back up to the tip, listening to the shaky moan that left his lips as his fingers curled in your hair.

You wasted no time sliding the head of his cock into your mouth, humming around him in your own form of satisfaction as you pulled back all the way to the tip, going back down all the way to the base, relaxing your throat as you nuzzled your nose in the plush of his pubes, happily inhaling his natural scent as he groaned above you, pressing his hips forward as his cock rested snuggly in your throat.

He held you steady by your hair, pulling himself back and almost completely out before sliding right back in, repeating the action as goosebumps exploded across his skin, breathing breathlessly as he practically started to hump your face.

Tiny moans pulled themselves from your chest, flickering your eyes upwards to watch the way Daryl tossed his head back and dropped it back down, his pupils blown wide and eyes lidded, cheeks flushed a cherry red as your throat squeezed around his cock, Daryl's husky breaths and grunts filling the air as he pushed his hips forward, pressing his pelvis right up against your nose.

You pulled your head back all the way until he slipped out your mouth with a wet pop, coated in slick saliva as you suckled and kissed along the underside of his length, fingers stroking through your hair as you flickered your gaze up to meet his, smearing spit along the skin of your cheek as you basically nuzzled up against his cock.

"Wha'cha doin' down there doll?" Daryl asked in his southern drawl, raspier now from your previous antics.

He brought his hand down to the base of your neck, bringing his thumb to your chin and tilting your head upwards, watching as you innocently bat your lashes kissing against his v-line. "Just loving on my man, you're so hot"

"Real funny” Daryl said from above you, his hand cupping your face as you rubbed yourself up against him in a cat-like manner.

You smiled at him, kissing along his prominent hip bones and running your lips over any scars or imperfections. “It’s true, I’d eat you alive if you let me”

At that he scoffed, “Think m’gon pass” dropping his hand from your cheek down to your waist as you gradually kissed your way back up his body, lips fluttering against the skin of his chest as you felt the bumpy and slightly rough scars decorating his torso, running your hands up his firm pecs to wrap around his neck as your lips found their way to his face, peppering his scratchy beard in kisses.

“I love you, Daryl. I want you to see the man that I see,” You whispered against the corner of his mouth, brushing a stray hair out his face as you kissed him sorrowfully. “Not the one you see in the mirror”

His grip on you tightened, and you giggled softly when he twitched against your leg, eyes low as they flickered between you and your lips. When he kissed you. it was hungry, desperate and gentle all in one, a hand settling itself back at the base of your neck.

It wasn’t long before the air in the room started to get heated, shortly realizing that Daryl was completely nude and that you were still completely dressed, pulling away from him in order to tear your shirt off, hands helping to yank down your pants along with your underwear in a quick, fluid motion, calloused hands running themselves over your tits and squeezing, feeling their way down the rest of your bare body.

“Yer fuckin’ perfect” He mumbled out as he pulled you against him, dipping his head down in order to bite at your flesh, small groans rumbling softly through him as he groped at your waist.

You spun around him and twisted his body in order to be pinned between him and the vanity, heat pooling in your stomach as he practically towered over you. “That's what I'm trying to get you to understand”

“Oh, I understand alrigh’,” Daryl spoke in a low tone, bringing his attention back down to your neck and a soft pair of tits. “Jus’ shaped like a goddamn dream”

"Don't be so kind Sir Scupluted," You exhaled with a shaky breath, wrapping an arm around the man's neck as he pressed his skin against yours, dragging a rough hand down the pane of your back and helping himself to a handful of your round butt, scoffing out a small chuckle as your words finally processed in his mind.

"Sir Scupluted?" He repeated outloud as his breath fanned over your ear, dragging his scratchy yet soft beard along the skin of your neck.

You giggled as the fine gray hairs tickled at your flesh, Daryl's hands dipping down to grope and squeeze your hips, thumbs brushing along the skin of your inner thighs. "Have you seen yourself lately?'

Daryl grunted a little when you spun around in his grasp, forcing him to reposition his hands where they now rested on your waist, his front to your back as you smiled at him through the mirror, bringing a hand up to stroke his face as he rested his head sweetly on your shoulder, calloused palms feeling their way around your flesh lovingly as he pressed himself against you, almost trying to hide himself behind you.

It made your heart squeeze painfully, placing your other hand on top of his and looping your fingers together, brushing curls out his face as you turned to look at him, whispering out a small "Daryl," in order to full grasp his attention, a sad frown taking over your face as his striking eyes met yours, cupping his cheek. "You are the most gorgeous boy I've ever had the honor to lay hands on. You're the sweetest thing in this whole world and there isn't a thing I'd ever want to change about you. Not your face, not your voice, not your body, not anything."

He shook his head slightly in your grip, mumbling into the crook of your neck, "Ya dun' mean-" but getting quickly cut off by you pressing a finger to his lips, bumping your forehead against his. "I do mean it. You're absolutely perfect, Daryl, that won't ever change"

You spoke the words against his lips softly, humming and cupping his face as he closed the gap between you two, kissing you desperately and needily as the love in your words rang out in his head, feeling the way his heart was totally pounding in his chest and his cock was throbbing between your bodies, hands curling into your flesh.

Daryl's lips trailed down the underside of your jaw, hungrily kissing and sucking on your skin going down your neck, biting his way to your shoulders as a big palm came up to fondle one of your tits, the other snaking down to your hip as you pushed back against him, resting your hands on the dresser as you teasingly eyed him through the mirror, moaning slightly when he started to rut himself between your slick folds.

A wave of excitement pulsed through you when a large hand gripped your shoulder right near the base of your neck, Daryl pushing the head of his cock into the hot velvetiness of your cunt, a deep groan leaving his chest as he sank all the way in, nudging his pelvis up against you.

"Love my sweet boy, always making me feel so good" You almost whined the words as you clenched around him, nibbling on your bottom lip as the hand on your shoulder moved up to your hair, fingers combing and gathering the loose strands, holding them in a hand-held ponytail, nails scratching bluntly at your scalp.

Daryl was one of the only men in your life who could really make you finish, just the stretch of his cock was enough to get your eyes rolling, setting a rhythmical pace as he started to thrust his hips, pulling himself all the way back before easily slipping back in, burying his dick in the squishiest parts of you.

He admired your face as it twisted in pleasure, watching you through the mirror as you moaned with every thrust, eyes closed in bliss. He took the chance then to admire your whole body, from your round hips striped with stretch marks, all the way up the deep arch in your back to the tops of your shoulders, teeth marks and hickies already starting to bruise purple.

It didn't stop him from dipping his head down and taking the skin into his mouth again, wanting nothing more than to make it known to the whole world that you belonged to him, and that he so rightfully belonged to you.

You turned your head slightly to the side, Daryl meeting you the rest of the way and locking his lips with yours, swallowing all your tiny sounds while letting out soft groans himself, eagerly lifting one of your legs up to get that much deeper, the feeling that took over when hearing you choke and stutter over the new angle was indescribable, solely focused on making his pretty girl cum.

Which wouldn't take much longer at all, whimpers filling the room as you tensed up in his hold, the hand that was once in your hair now protectively wrapped across your chest, helping to support your body on one leg as your fingers curled into the wood below, mouth going slightly agape as your orgasm crashed into you, Daryl fucking you through it until you were trembling and twitching, slowing his movements to chase after his own release, rocking his hips against you gently as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, flushing more when fingers gripped the hair at the back of his nape, feeling your other hand squeeze his arm. "Fill me up Dar, please"

"Give ya' lots of lil' babies huh?" He mumbled against your skin, increasing the pace of his strokes as he was so close, feeling the way his orgasm tightened his balls and made his whole body hot and tingly.

You pulled him flush to your lips once more, tongues pressing and swirling around one another, tasting every little corner of his mouth happily. "Lots of them. I wanna have all your gorgeous babies"

With that, it wasn't long before Daryl's hips started to falter, a husky moan pulling itself from his chest as his cock pulsated, pumping his load into the softness of your cunt, dropping your leg back down on the ground when he pulled out with a lewd pop, instantly peppering you in kisses.

You spun back around in his arms, tossing your own around his neck and glancing at the damage you had done to his body, bites, and marks littering him from head to toe. "I love you sweetheart, I love you so much"

Daryl easily lifted you up off the ground, carrying you over to bed where he dropped down with you clinging to him, pulling the covers over both your nude bodies and squeezing you tight, so tight that it sent waves of dopamine rushing through you, heart pounding as you snuggled against your man's chest, his fingers in your hair and gently tracing shapes on your back, lips pressed to your forehead.

"Love ya' too doll, dun' know how I got so lucky" He whispered the words, and you could feel the rumble of them vibrate up close and personal, kissing right between his pecs. "Anyone would be lucky to have a man as faultless as you, but not anyone else can have my beautiful boy"

Hey everyone look!! Im about to drop another fic and then not drop for another three months!!!!!

WHOS EXCITED FOR THAAAT🤗🔥🔥

But anyway, I had plans to actually start scheduling posts but I don’t write that fast to do that so i’m just gonna throw this into the crowd and vanish again 🙏🏾‼️

also i have something against all of you who still use my tag but WHATEVERS. 🙄 A sexy bitch like me improvises (i asked daddy krys for help)

#norman fucking reedus 🎀#d.d 🎀#the walking dead #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine

272 notes · View notes

miniimight · 1 year ago

Note

first off, I just wanna say how I love how you write izuku like??? my sweet boy doesn't get much appreciation and I'm just obsessed with the scenarios you've made with him 🤭💜 second, would it be okay to request a scenario in which the bnha boys (Deku, Bakugo, any other if you want!) who's been dating the reader for a while but it's a secret relationship- which suddenly gets revealed?

thank you! can't wait for more of your writing! 💜

SECRET RELATIONSHIP GETS REVEALED ! the secret relationship between you and your pro-hero boyfriend gets revealed to the public

with deku, bakugo ( pro heroes )

notes ahaha izuku is definitely one of my favs and ur so right when u say he doesn't get enough appreciation :( but i'm here to change that lol ! thanks for requesting ! idk if this is what you had in mind but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

your boyfriend didn't want his relationship with you to go live because one, he's legitimately one of the most hated heroes by villains and two, the media won't ever leave you alone. he found it better this way, for both of your sakes.

it worked for a while, and though the both of you had to make little sacrifices here and there, the arrangement was more than perfect. that was until someone tipped the media off with one (1) very rare photo of you and boyfie out and about in disguise (a terrible one, at that).

photos of the pro-hero's new companion dominated the internet and everyone was wondering who the mystery person was.

it happened so fast that you and your boyfriend were out of the loop. in fact, you and your boyfriend were out on a secret date when the news exploded.

IZUKU

izuku zipped his crossbody bag up and fitted a black baseball cap tightly on his head. his green curls were hard to miss regardless of any disguise he thought up. he flashed you a determined smile. "ready for our day out, love?"

"born ready," you mimicked his way-too-serious tone. "but won't you relax a bit?"

at your comment, his shoulders stiffened. "why, do i not look relaxed?"

he was standing like his friend, iida—almost robotically, like a sentry who was on high alert. you could see the tired circles under his eyes though the shadow of the cap made them almost invisible. his casual outfit covered one of the essential pieces of hero gear; his gloves. it was almost as if he was expecting something bad to happen.

you drifted to his side, an amused smile on your face. "we've done this before, izu. nobody will notice!"

"at least i have a better chance," he raised an eyebrow at you, spinning you around in his arms. "your disguise is non-existent."

"hey, i'm not the super-famous pro-hero that everyone adores." you stuck your tongue at him, making him smile reflexively.

"it's not my fault i'm so charming."

"oh my god."

a little more bickering and a car ride later, you both arrived at the museum you had planned to tour. the guide handed you pamphlets after welcoming you to the grounds, informing you that she'd take you around the exhibits in a short moment.

"oooh..." you flipped through the brochure, excitement bubbling through you. "there's a lot of things in here."

izuku rested his chin on your shoulder, trying to read as fast as you were flipping pages. his hand enveloped yours in an effort to stop you from turning the pages at a lightning pace— "honey, can you go slower?"

you giggled and thumbed the whole pamphlet, making a little buzzz sound as you did so. "weren't you at the top of your class, izu?" you shrugged nonchalantly. "just read faster."

his hands snaked to clasp around your stomach from where they rested on your waist. an uncontrollable laugh threatened to bubble out of you. "really, 'just read faster'? a little cheeky today, aren't you, love—?"

"uhm... couple at the back, please refrain from pda as there are children around." the tour guide cleared her throat. a crowd had gathered for the next tour around the museum and it appeared as though they were ready to start.

you and izuku jumped away from each other as if you were caught by a teacher in high school, your cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

"sorry, miss." izuku mumbled in a low voice, head hanging. he gave you an amused smile that you returned with a huge grin, accepting the hand he held out for you.

halfway into the tour, the group grew so bored they retreated to the comfort of their phones. hanging around the back, you thought it unusual that so many people began to glance backwards at you and your boyfriend, whispering among themselves.

you caught glimpses of their phone screens, questioning why the hell your face was on them.

you nudged izuku's side to tell him just as the teens in front of you spun around, screaming "it's deku and his s/o!"

you and izuku froze like deers in headlights as the commotion spread through the group.

wait, how do you know? the news just made a story about it today. there's a picture of them here! and besides, he's wearing the same disguise.

you gave izuku a pointed look and he smiled sheepishly at you. "what the heck should we do?!"

"deny it??" he said, though he didn't seem sure of his answer. "that photo?" he talked to the crowd again. "not her."

"yeah, i get it all the time," you chuckle nervously, playing along. you shrunk into his side. the attention was sending shockwaves through your body.

the kids weren't buying it. "well, you're obviously deku." one deadpanned.

"me?" a boxy grin spread on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "no, i'm just... not him..."

seriously, didn't they have specific media training classes at UA for this kinda thing? you rolled your eyes at his response.

"who else has green hair?!" another crossed their arms. "you're so deku."

you both held up your hands, as if caught red-handed by the police. you squeaked, "we're just two random, normal strangers having a date in a museum, promise—"

a kid waddled up to deku's side and pulled his signature gloves out of his pants' pockets, holding them up triumphantly. yours and deku's head slowly turned to watch it unfold before looking at each other almost comically. a long pause followed.

"it's deku and his s/o!" the kid yelled, pointing a chubby finger at the two of you. the whole vicinity was alerted to the famous hero's presence.

you clung to izuku's arms and the swarm encroached on your space, clamoring for autographs, information, pictures—anything they could get their hands on.

to your surprise, deku wasn't the only center of attention. you were asked your name, age, and occupation, where you grew up, if you knew 'their' deku in high school—

izuku's upper arm came under your bum as he leapt back from the crowd at lightning speed, yelling a very apologetic sorry! as he zoomed the both of you away to safety. you screamed as you hung over his shoulder.

he parkoured his way up the museum building, crouching on the roof. it wasn't the first time izuku used his super speed with you in his arms, but holding you like a sack of potatoes wasn't the best position—not if you liked your neck.

he set you down and smoothed your clothes, his hands flying everywhere accompanied by a thousand apologies.

your hands caught his wrist and you gave him a pointed look. "how did they find out? we were super careful."

his concerned expression quickly turned unimpressed. "sweetheart, you have no disguise."

"they believed i was just some random person after we denied it. they already knew you were deku!" you retorted, flicking his cap upwards and allowing the tufts of green to spring out.

he opened his mouth to respond before he snapped it shut. "it's not my fault i'm hard to miss..." he muttered.

you softened and moved closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning into his chest. "i'm sorry, jus' a little on edge."

his hands rubbed your back soothingly before he hugged you back. "it'll be okay." he felt something cold against him and he looked down to see you pull out your phone, pressing it against his body as you got to the bottom of this. "hey—"

"it's all over the news, along with katsuki and his s/o." you hummed, scrolling through article after article.

"hey." he repeated firmly. he gently tugged the phone from your hands, slipping it in his pocket. "it'll be okay. i'll make sure you're protected, not that you aren't already, and we'll get you a new apartment, closer to mine."

you sighed. "i'm not really worried about that."

he gave you a concerned look, wondering if he needed to look into your lack of self-preservation. "...you're not worried about someone potentially attacking you?"

you rolled your eyes, lightly swatting his chest. "well, duh, but i know no one can really get past you and your brigade of hero friends." you waved off his concern. "i'm worried about the paparazzi and gossip channels—what if everyone decides i'm not good enough and they pressure you to leave me? what if—"

"i'm going to have to stop you right there," he gave one of those self-proclaimed (but also, he wasn't wrong) 'charming' smiles as he cut into your rambling. "being with you is my conviction. no one's gonna pressure me to do anything except marry you one day."

you blinked, a huge grin spreading on your face. all your worries were gone when you let his words sink in.

izuku realized what he really said. "or... something like that, you know?" he muttered under his breath, color rising to his cheeks as he looked away.

a moment passed as he held you on the museum rooftop, the date turning out much different than expected. he gasped out of nowhere, jostling you out of your thoughts. his little giggle made you suspicious.

"kacchan just texted me something really interesting; he got stuck in traffic and is trying to hide out in his car—oh."

"what?"

he turned his phone to you. it was a post titled 'NEW!" and underneath was a very blurry photo of you and izuku on the rooftop at that very moment.

you scrunched up your face. "your fans are weird."

he laughed openly. you stared at him with such adoration that you hoped the press got a picture of his blissful face so you could fawn over it later. "have you even read the things they're saying about you?" he kissed your forehead. "i have a feeling they're gonna grow to obsess over you more than me."

BAKUGO

you heard the impatient jangle of keys as bakugo called after you. "we're gonna be late for our res, baby, get your beautiful ass in the car."

you giggled as you stuffed the last of the stuff you needed in your bag. you exaggerated a gasp and wagged a finger at him. "take me on a date first, mister."

he rolled his eyes. "i am literally trying to do that right now, but someone ain't listenin."

"fine, damn, i'll go on a date with you." you huffed, keeping up with the bit as you walked past him, tossing him a playful look over your shoulder. he smiled softly, following closely.

you got in the car and watched him with starry eyes. he was focused on starting the car and setting the music, but all you could think of was how good he looked in a turtleneck. he had so much faith in that face mask, though, as you'd told him multiple times that it was a really bad disguise.

"you're starin'." he glanced out his window before pulling out the parking spot.

heat rose to your cheeks. he held his hand out and you laced your fingers in them. he squeezed your hand.

the ride was smooth and calm, the hum of the engine complimenting the mellow yet catchy songs playing. you were jamming out until you realized you hadn't moved in a while.

you ducked closer to the windshield. the light was red, and the traffic was piling up. you pursed your lips, glimpsing at the irritated drivers around you.

"looks like we might not make our res, huh?" you mused. bakugo hummed.

"it's whatever, betcha they'll still take us anyway." he grinned mischievously.

you squeezed his hand, chastising him. "kats, you can't use your 'i'm a famous hero' card on date nights."

"m'just teasing, baby." he chuckled softly, leaning back in his seat. his head rested on his shoulder as he gave you a look. "better get comfortable."

you laughed and let go of his hand, turning fully in your seat to face him. "kats! keep your eyes on the road!"

"why? i wanna look at you." he smirked.

snap!

a bright flash made both of you freeze, though bakugo reacted quicker. he sat up in his seat, leaning over the wheel as he peered out your window at the car beside you. the two girls in the front row were fawning over the picture they just took.

he glared. "a couple of fans, i guess?"

you breathed out a sigh of relief. "thank god i was facing away from—"

snap!

you squeaked in surprise and reflexively covered your face. you leaned back in the seat to see a couple other teens laughing triumphantly over their rare photo.

bakugo observed your shock and panic silently before he laughed, thoroughly amused.

you groaned, slumping below the windows. "i was talking when they took that picture, i'll look distorted." you whined, voice muffled behind your hands.

he tsked. "i'm sure they got your good side, babe." he was trying to act calm but really his mind was racing at a million thoughts per minute. he had tinted windows. he made sure to make an appearance this morning so people would think he was out hero-ing for the whole day. was this a freak occurance, or...?

you opened your phone and were flooded with articles upon articles of you and bakugo on your dates. in hindsight, yes, those disguises were really bad. those pictures were low-quality but anyone who was anyone would be able to recognize bakugo's spiky blond hair.

everyone was speculating who the mystery person was and how their relationship would be, etc etc. you groaned again as you held up your phone to bakugo.

"what?" he whispered, breaking out of his thoughts.

"come down here," you motioned for him to join you below the window.

he scrunched up his face. "... i'm not doing—"

"come down here." you hissed, pulling him by his shoulder to crouch below the window's line of sight. he blinked, not entirely surprised or against the action. "look!"

he scrolled through, some news pages looking familiar. he sighed. "my agency was starting to talk about these rumors."

"why didn't you tell me?!"

"i thought they'd handle it!"

you pouted and he softened, kissing your cheek. "no one's gonna get a hold of any bad pictures of you, promise. i'll make sure of it."

you smiled. "really?"

he grinned, lovesick. "yeah." so what if the whole world would know you're his? he could deal with the details later.

muddled banging made you jump.

"dynamight, is that your s/o?!" the girls from the car over squashed their faces to the window, cupping their hands around their eyes.

you screamed and dynamight gave them a what the hell look.

he blast through the car roof, holding you by the waist as he soared upwards with loud pops behind him. landing on a nearby roof, he checked to make sure you were okay. all he was concerned about was the frown on your face.

"what, you not comfortable with everyone knowin' bout us?" he asked, voice soft.

you perked up, shaking your head. "no! obviously not. i'm just..." you curled your knees to your chest. "you're a hotshot and you have so many people after you. dunno if i meet expectations."

"who cares?" he scoffed indignantly. "you exceed mine. that's all that matters."

you giggled, your sad disposition quickly morphing into a smile. "yeah?"

"yeah." he assured you, pushing your knees down and swinging them to the side. the momentum made your whole body twist so that you were parallel to him. he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into his embrace.

"now i gotta call that nerd so he can move our car. we're causin' more traffic."

bonus:

"kacchan!" izuku chirped, his s/o on his back as he floated in the air. bakugo's face twisted up as if the green-haired boy wasn't one of his best friends.

"hey." bakugo jerked a thumb at his very broken car. "can you take care of that for me?"

"yeah, i got it." with his gloves on, izuku initiated blackwhip. the tendrils snaked around the car and hoisted it into the air, freeing up that lane once again. "did you suddenly get exposed out of nowhere, too?"

bakugo snorted. "yeah, ain't that a coincidence?"

izuku chuckled softly as he nodded. "yeah, super weird."

who could've gotten the jump on two of the most famous heroes' love lives, anyway?

#bakugou x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #izuku fluff #bakugou fluff #deku fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku

982 notes · View notes