#like he was starting to get beefy and everything FUCK

[killerqueenhetfield]

GOD THIS ERA!!!

[jotaroslooseeyebrowhair]

I will pay insurmountable amounts of pure cash to get a Great Gatsby dead on main au (Nick/Gatsby style, ofc)

[gutsby]

Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi Shinazugawa standing up for you

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: You are used to no one believing in you, to get picked on by other corps member because you're a girl. Until one of them crosses the line and starts a fights. Until a certain someone stands up for you when no one else does.

Warnings: not proofread bc I have a gym date with my boy (in order to have a biceps as beefy as (y/n)'s lmao), reader gets reduced to being a weak woman when she is anything but that, bad girl energy, Sanemi being a cutie

„I can’t believe they allowed a little girl to participate.”

“Look at her. There’s no way she survived the training of the former sound hashira, the serpent pillar and landed here.”

“Probably nothing but luck. Or she cheated.”

Don’t listen to them, just focus on staying hydrated and eating enough for your upcoming training. It has always been this way. You, a girl in a world of boys against everything. Why is it so hard to believe that you are capable of doing what they do when two female hashira show them how it’s done? You work your ass of day in and out, stayed consistent for your whole life. You’re always the first who appears in the morning and the last of them who falls into bed after practice. Nothing in life is given you for free, especially when it comes to strength. But apparently, they fail to realize this even after being a part of the demon slayer corps for quite some time.

“I bet she slept her way up.”

Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer disbelief. You, sleeping your way up?

“Yeah, maybe she aims to be the fourth wife of him or something.”

“So that’s why he’s always going easy on her.”

“I can hear you. Loud and clearly”, you finally speak up.

They are talking about you as if you are nothing but air, as if you wouldn’t share the same air. Anger begins to rush through your veins uncontrollably. All this work only to be called the mistress of a former hashira?

“I couldn’t care less about the existence of a woman who fucked her way up”, one of them spits directly into your face.

“How are your trainees doing?”, the white-haired men questioned while staring into the sunset.

“Most of them are trash. That one though…”

Instantly, Sanemi’s gaze is glued onto Obanai who now sits next to him.

“Really? You’ve got one that has some balls?”

“A girl, to be exact. She seems decently skilled and Actually just transferred to your training”, Obanai clarifies.

“I never heard of a girl getting through Uzui’s basic training until now”, Sanemi replies while rubbing his chin.

A girl, huh? He can’t put a finger on the last time he ever trained one. But if Obanai talks so highly about you, there sure must be something going on.

“She’s got potential. Let’s just hope there’s enough time.”

“Instead of lying around like the loser you are, try training next time. I don’t need to fuck my way up, I’m all good by my own”, you bark back along with straightening your shoulders.

Who does this guy think he is? Talking behind your back like that while you don’t even know who the fuck he is.

“You’re nothing but a weak woman, I’m sure it was way too easy for you to wrap them hashira around your finger.”

You draw closer, his dreadful eyes piercing like arrows through yours. But you couldn’t care less. No, this is enough.

“Bold coming from a guy who obviously never touched a woman in his entire life. To be honest, I could give you one or two reasons for that. But it’s not my job to tell you what kind of loser you are. Now excuse me, the training session with the wind hashira begins soon and you definitely aren’t worth being late to that.”

“Why do I have to waste my time with those losers?”, Sanemi mumbles to himself while walking towards the campsite where all the trainees are located.

Or wait, didn’t Obanai talk about a skilled girl earlier? Maybe she’ll last longer than that bunch of losers. While getting closer, his eyes fall on a crowd of multiple guys cheering and staring of what looks like a sensation in the middle.

“What the hell is going on over there?”

You manage to escape his punch just before he hits your face with full force, so unexpected that your eyes widen. Did he just try to slap you? In your face?

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? We are here to get trained and not to fight each other like animals!”, you roar at him.

Another dash forward, another failed attempt to hit you with full force while everyone around you starts eyeing you up and down. This must be a cruel joke, a nightmare. You joined the demon slayer corps to fight against injustice and to support peace. But in this very moment, you find yourself surrounded by your comrades who definitely try to hurt you.

“You just have to play the smartest one, don’t you? I don’t give a damn about your little game. I will never respect a woman who fucked her way up”, he jeers back at you.

You force yourself not to cry, to not show them how much their fucking words sting. All your life, you were forced to fight against those who wanted to see you suffer, does who didn’t put trust in your abilities. Your neighbors, your friends, even your own family. Never more than a little girl with crazy dreams, never more than average with no one who believes in her.

“You have no i-“

An enormous storm of air swirling around you catches you completely off guard and almost sweeps you off your feet. You aren’t able to see anything anymore, let alone move. Fuck, what is this? Definitely not the power of that jerk from before. Your lungs feel like bursting under the immense pressure, chest so tight that you have to force air in and out. What on earth is this?

“That’s enough. Who do you even think you are?”

When the storm calms down as rapidly as it came, you find yourself landing onto the floor with your knees just in time while everyone around you bumps into the ground head-first.

“S-she attacked me! It was her fault!”

Your eyes widen in sheer horror when you begin to realize who was responsible for this. There he stands with his katana in his hand, his white cloak still flowing in the wind.

And his dreadful orbs are set on you.

You try to scream, try to defend yourself, but all of the sudden you forgot how to speak. This is the wind hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa. After all those countless sessions with Tengen and Obanai, it was your goal to get here, to impress him.

But now you’re kneeling to his feet while countless men point their fingers at you, claiming you’re the one responsible for this mess.

“So, this was you?”, he questions.

There is no doubt in the fact that his ask is directed towards you. Not when he looks at you so serious with his hand clutched into a tight fist.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble”, you finally press out.

Defending yourself is a waste of time. With all those men saying you’re the problem, your words mean nothing. All you can do is sit here and hope that you’re able to stay, hope that the wind hashira won’t send you back home like everyone predicted.

“You have to be fucking kidding me”, he mutters with low voice.

It’s over. This is it, your final time at the hashira training. Even giving your best wasn’t enough, apparently. Not when nobody believes in you except yourself. You should have kept quiet, should have ignored their stupid sayings. You furrow your eyebrows, wild eyes going hard.

No. You did everything right. No one is allowed to talk to you in such a manner, to say all those nasty things about you. It was the only right thing to defend your honor. There is nothing to regret.

“Are you really trying to make her responsible for this when I heard your dumb ass talking shit about her? You have some fucking nerve, lying into the face of a hashira.”

Time stands still, you don’t dare to make a move while the crowd around you goes silent. Did the wind hashira really just…Stand up for you?

“Now get lost, all of you brats. If you’d be as good at fighting as in talking shit, we would have beaten all demons already.”

He doesn’t have to tell them twice. In the matter of seconds, the usual crowded area is deadly silent with only you and the white-haired man remaining. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes now fixated on his back. Why would he even stand up for a stranger, especially a girl? It’s probably best if you get away from here as well-

“No, not you. You definitely stay”, he instructs you after you take one single step forward.

You freeze right in your tracks. What now? Will he kick you out, send you back to your family? What if he didn’t mean those words he said earlier, what if he’s not convinced that you are in fact innocent?

“Listen, I’m sorry about t-“

“You really have some balls, dealing with a bunch of guys like that. My honest respect for that.”

 “What?”, you blurt out.

And there it is. The most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen, a smile that makes your heart and stomach flutter, that leaves you standing there like an idiot. You never actually believed in love, let alone to fall for someone. But the wind hashira, standing in front of you with his katana casually placed over his shoulders and his hand on his hip while smiling at you…

You’re lost. Deeply, completely, utterly lost.

“It’s clear that you’re working hard and I admire that. They have no right to talk to you this disrespectfully. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that”, he replies with his charismatic low voice.

“Thank you for standing up for me. For a second, I was pretty sure you’ll send me back home”, you admit while avoiding his gaze.

Maybe you’re still able to prove them all wrong, maybe you will make it after all. The hashira training is your chance to finally show your true self. You grab the handle of your katana tightly. And you will do everything you can to use that chance.

“Why would I send someone like you home when you’re one of the best corps members? These guys don’t know shit about you and it’s clear that they’re jealous. Don’t listen to those people and keep up the hard work.”

The man in front of you definitely isn’t the monster you’ve heard of. The rough and loud wind hashira who has zero control over his emotions, who rejected his own brother. The man who means nothing but violence, nothing but trouble. No, that man in front of you is smiling at you, teasing you in order to become better. And you’ll do everything to thank him for believing in you.

-one week later-

“You can’t keep her for yourself any longer. Apart from Kamado, she’s one of the greatest chances the demon slayer corps have. It’s Gyomei’s turn to train her”, Shinobu explains calmly, earning one of the deadliest looks ever from the wind hashira.

Truth is, he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to see you every day, wants to train with you as often as he can, wants to talk with you into the night. What is left when you’re not around except the effect you had on him, the admiration he holds for you in his heart? Sanemi thought he’d never be able to find love again, that no other woman would ever catch his heart. But there you are with your determination made of stone and heart made of gold.

“She’s better off with me”, he mumbles with a pout, not daring to look into the insect pillar’s eyes.

It’s clear that he’s acting ridiculous. When it comes to gaining more strength and abilities, you’re definitely not better off by his side only. He can’t just gatekeep you for his own will.

“Don’t tell me you started liking her”, Obanai comments dryly.

“Sanemi, is it possible, that…that…”

“Don’t you dare saying that”, he warns the pink-haired girl opposite of him.

“ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH (Y/N)!?”

“SHUT UP, I NEVER SAID THAT!”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”

“WHY? BECAUSE THEY’RE BLOODSHOT!?”

Him, in love with a woman? How ridiculous…

Right?

He huffs to himself. Yeah, there is no denying in the fact that he fell a little too hard.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen

[nappingmoon]

taking an aphrodisiac with kei but everything with him is a competition so you decide that whoever gives in first has to bring the other breakfast in bed. an hour passes and neither of you feel much. assuming they are duds, you each take another piece of the chocolate and resign yourselves to the couch to rewatch another episode of your favorite show.

the problem is that thirty minutes later, you start to feel just uncomfortably warm. your eyes slide to the thermometer, but it is still at its normal temperature. you turn to your left, looking to kei to see if he is feeling a little hot when- oh. his fists are clenched around the corners of the poor pillow laid across his lap, the knuckles nearly white and the force is still not enough to hide the tent in his pants. it is clear that he is trying to look unbothered, eyes trained on the television, but if the small twitches of his muscles are to say anything, you know the indifference is little but a ruse.

"kei? you okay?" you ask quietly, nearly tentative.

"yeah." he replies curtly, the rush in his voice betraying the fact that he is in fact not okay.

"yeah? it looks like you might be feeling it a little." you tease.

his head whips to you and he gives you a mean up and down before gritting out "and you're doing a lot of talk for someone squeezing her thighs together like a bitch in heat. is that squirming getting you anywhere?"

the breath catches in your throat at his quip. you hadn't realized what you were doing, but fuck if the tone of his voice didn't make your arousal worse. you swallow thickly, opting to work on focusing on the television instead of responding, knowing that if he speaks much more you'd cave.

the voices sound muffled, though, and you're hyper aware of the heat emanating from the man next to you. your brain also, unhelpfully, chooses this moment to remember how big kei is. despite not being a particularly beefy man, his stature makes him impossible to ignore; long toned limbs ever present in your periphery. your hips move of their own accord, seeking the relief you refuse to give yourself, too stubborn to give in.

you're doing so well, you really are! that is, until the characters on the screen start making out. your nails dig into the arm of the couch, desperate to keep the energy pooling in you at bay, when you hear a deep groan to your left that sends an excited chill through your body, hairs standing on edge.

it looks like kei gave in first. <3

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

to be added to a taglist

TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano

[elysianightsss]

Okay but can we just talk about run away bride reader and soft dark John price.

Your poor fiancé is stood there like what has he done wrong? And that’s the problem, not a damn thing but there’s this gorgeous burly man double your age that’s wormed his way into your heart and between your legs. For weeks he’s been attacking your pussy with his addictingly greedy mouth, it really was an accident. Your bachelorette party had ended with you being black out drunk, your ‘friends’ had left you at whatever club you had been at to move onto the next one when John found you. You could barely sting two words together when he asked you where you lived after carrying you into his jeep, he didn’t know what to do but he couldn’t leave you at that club and Simon was too busy making it with some woman inside, he wanted to go home. Honestly taking you home with him started off entirely innocent but once he go you back to his place and a little bit of water in you, you had began to open up to this stranger about your life. How you were getting married in three weeks and you were scared out of your mind to be married to this guy you’d been with for three years all because of one thing; he had never made you cum.

You explained to the beefy man with a canal glint in his darkened blue eyes in front you that you’d tried everything. At first you faked your orgasms out of courtesy and kindness. Then the emotional and physical toll was too much and you ended up confessing to him. He didn’t take it too well at first but then he asked you to show him how to be better. This really made you happy, he accepted the issue and wanted to fix it. So you showed him in every way that he could, your fingers and your toys and he really looked like he was taking it all in.

Then he took over and any progress you had made building up this wonderful climax completely shattered as he rubbed the wrong place and pushed all the toys off the bed looking offended by them. You even moved in an attempt to slip his fingers onto your clit….and he…he fucking moved them away. You remember the way your eyes stung with tears of frustration, the way your heart ached with want and need. How you felt so used when he had sex with you, he mumbled that he had urned his reward after rubbing you in the wrong spot for five minutes. You remember how you cried in the shower while he slept. And you in your drunken state told John all of this. By the time you were done he looked dangerous and rigid. He knew there were guys out there that didn’t know much about the female body but he couldn’t believe that some cunt had done that to you and by the sounds of it continued to do it for years on end. You were so beautiful, how could that guy not even bother to take the time to learn your body. To commit your wants and needs to memory. That’s how you ended up on your back naked with John kneeling at the edge of the bed face to face with your dripping pussy. John did think about it and maybe if he were a nicer guy he would care that you weren’t sober, maybe he would care that you were engaged but you just looked so sad and he couldn't let a sweet little thing like you go your entire life only giving yourself an orgasm.

His head lulls to the side, his cheek smushing against the inside of your thigh “Such a pretty cunt.” He sighs, the tip of his finger spelling out his name on your clit. His piercing eyes meet yours and your breath gets caught in your throat, the lust swirling in his dark eyes is so enticing. Plus the way he’s on his knees for you, you wouldn’t ever get tired of seeing it.

Your clit pulses erratically anticipating his next move. It’s quick and it makes you jump but then you’re whining into the air, because how can you not when he’s sucking you into his mouth like a starved man. Your body burns with pleasure but it’s oh so delicious his tongue working wonders on your cunt.

“Please-“ you pause, somewhere in your haziness you realise you don’t know whose name you should be calling out, he pulls off you with a soft pop. “John.” “Please John.”

“No flower. You can wait, I’m gonna enjoy this cunt and you’re gonna lay there and take it.” He scowls, placing sloppy kisses up your thigh. “If I have to tie you to this bed, I fucking will.” His lips smack together as his eyes leave yours once more, the pad of his thumb sliding through your folds. “Your pussy is already dripping flower, I’m gonna make you gush.” He grunts leaning forward pressing his nose against you with a sharp inhale. He can’t ever get enough of you.

John looks up his cerulean eyes finding yours at the exact moment his mouth latches onto you once more. It feels so good it hurts, the heat from his mouth has you twisting and squirming. His right hand moves up reaching until they touch your lips, a quick tap against them and you open just enough for him to slip his fingers inside. A muffled ‘suck’ has you closing your lips around them, getting them nice and wet.

He groans against your wet heat images of you sucking his cock the way you’re sucking his fingers floating through his mind. You sob, your body starting to shake when he pushes two thick fingers inside you, the intrusion making you gasp. They rub along your velvety walls bringing a new wave of pleasure, the feeling builds becoming more intense with every thrust.

His tongue laps at your clit while he searches and searches until you squeal “There it is”, he finds exactly what he was looking for striking the spot over and over again watching your back arch off the bed. A ‘fuck yeah sweetheart’ slipping out when you gush all over his hand.

You excepted him to move away, to release your pussy from his torturous mouth but he doesn’t. The bastard stays put the tip of his tongue flicking against you, the sensitivity pulling whines and whimpers from you….you think it was six, no seven definitely seven orgasms, heck you lost count after the third. Your body tired but fuck did you need his cock more than anything. You lay on your side gripping the sheets so tightly as John slides in behind you, his arms pulling you taut against him as you mewl into the air.

“I know flower I know you just have to let me in is all, nothing more.” He strokes your hair moving it out the way so he can press his cheek to yours, it’s so intimate and sweet. And yet when he lifts up your left leg, bending it at the knee so he can slip his ridged veiny shaft inside your tight cunt. You feel the sweet sweet burn of the orgasmic stretch that you never thought you’d feel in your life.

You just about manage to make out the time on the clock before your vision blurs and tears streak down your cheeks meeting the dried ones that had already fallen earlier with your over sensitivity. He feels so fucking good, with each thrust you’re pushed closer to the edge. Your moans and his mixing together in the late evening air, his pace building dramatically, becoming more and more intense the longer he fucks you. It’s brutish, rough and bare. Yet loving and gentle.

“Yes right there don’t stop!” His swollen tip glides over the spot inside you, your body goes still and you can’t do anything except let it happen. And you do, you let the tsunami of pleasure crash into you almost painfully, it pumps through your veins absolutely demolishing what’s left of your energy. You’re barely awake when warmth blooms inside you a deep moan rumbling against your cheek.

“Fuck baby.” He groans softly pulling the sheets over your body, shielding you from the cold breeze that was drifting into your beautiful moment. A kiss to the top of your head and you’re out like a light unaware of the large hand rubbing at your tummy, the sky completely dark now, unaware of the thoughts bubbling in John’s head as he watches your chest rise up and down. The next morning he consoles you as you freak out, you had just cheated and if that wasn’t killing you, the pain in your head was. He listened to you rant and panic while he cooked you breakfast, a small smirk pulling at his lips when you slump down at the table and eat everything on your plate. You leave after he sweetly promises not to tell anybody about what happened. But he insisted on having your phone number yanno in case of emergencies. You don’t think much of it until he starts calling you, a lot.

“I just thought what harm could come from one little call,” he says coyly, ignoring you when you protest he must stop, “I know you say you're taken but I say girl you're takin' too long to tell him that it's over. Then bring it on over, stringing him along any longer flower is just wasting precious time.” You don’t know what to say to him, your words caught it your throat as he takes the silence as an opportunity to continue.

“Sweetheart you know it can't wait, rip it off just like a Band-Aid. The way you look at me, girl, you can't pretend I know you ain't in love with him break up with him.” He pleads, you don’t break up with your fiancé but you do end up back at John’s house, Price’s head between your thighs licking and slurping at your pussy.

He calls you again the next night with the same speech as last time, “I know, you don't wanna break his heart but that ain't no good reason to be keeping us apart. Look, just tell him it's you, it ain't him and maybe you can lie to him and say you'll still be friends.” He scoffs with a smirk at the idea placing his phone down on the kitchen counter on speaker.

“Whatever you got to say to get through to him that you ain't in love. C'mon you can't deny that you and I kinda fit like a glove. It ain't my business to be all up in but I know you ain't in love with him break up with him. I know that you’re so done with him break up with him.” He groans out and once again he convinces you to come over and let him have his dirty way with you.

Weeks of this back on forth go by and finally it’s the eve of your wedding day, “You would've hung up by now if you weren't thinking it too. No pressure whatever just do what you gotta do. But if I was you I'd tell him that it's over then bring it on over stringing him along any longer is just wasting precious time. Flower you know it can't wait. Just rip it off just like a Band-Aid Yeah, I know I said it but I'll say it again. I know you ain't in love with him. Break up with him. The way you look at me girl you can't pretend. I know you ain't in love with him. Just break up with him.”

You don’t break up with him but you’re sure he’s gotten the hint when you run from the church, fists clenched tightly around the material of your wedding dress so your legs can move faster. You arrive at John’s house and he grins when he opens the door.

Grabbing his coat off the hook he closes the door behind him before grabbing your hand and helping you into his jeep. “John, where are we going?”

“You’re already in your wedding dress flower, why waste the opportunity. There’s a little chapel just down the road.”

[yeyinde]

thinking of big gross simon once more 😔

he’s just so fucking huge imagine him finally getting his precious girl home with him one night after work. he didn’t ask, obviously, just slipped a little smth extra into the tea he made her! it took her no time to fall straight into his arms

the ride back to his cabin has to be excruciating for him,, imagine having to keep his attention on driving when his girl is sat next to him. the urge to pull over and take you apart right tugged on him every couple minutes

when he does finally pull up imagine him gently peeling off your seatbelt and shifting your weight into his beefy arms uggghhhhhh 😖😖 his chest pressed against your side as he placed you down on the couch. takes him no time to go back out to the truck and grab what he needs,, a thick pair of leather cuffs and a chain.

maybe he traps her arms, hooking the chain into a loop on the floor. he does it so she won’t hurt herself trying to fight back, it takes nothing for him to put you in your place. the thought of getting too rough and breaking his favorite toy so soon didn’t rest easy with him… gotta keep her safe

or maybe he traps her legs, cuffs wrapped around her ankles. can’t have his little bird trying to escape the nest!! not until she’s finally trained! stops you from kicking or running from him, perfect to keep your legs together tight… but maybe seeing your limbs pressed together like that does something to him, makes his blood boil in a way no one else ever has 😏

big bloody hands rub your body down, mapping out every part before you even wake up. he can’t wait to break you in

-🧸 i’m horny.

ohhhhhh yeah. yes to all of this. i saw this tiktok a while back about this girl who was going skydiving or something. and the instructor was getting her harness on, and when he knelt down to do the straps on her thighs, he was basically eye-level with her. it fucked with me so good.

and now i can't stop imagining poor reader frantically searching for an escape after he chained you to the wall only to see Simon stagger back over with ankle straps in hand, drop to his knees in front of you, and suddenly you're eye-level with him. or the top is his head comes up to your chin and it's like. well. okay 🫠 guess i'm staying.

he probs secretly starts taking things from the slaughterhouse, too. hooks, chains. chain hoist. block and tackle. stockpiles it in his cabin for you. has everything prepared because this isn't a spur of the moment thing. everything is meticulously thought out. planned. has your routine memorised the first week of knowing you. no changes. home, work. groceries on the weekend. might stray to the odd friend's house on occasion. but it's shockingly easy to narrow your world down into home and his shop. even easier to tell everyone in town that you went back to home for a little while.

to your honeymoon, as he calls it, mockingly. mean. and you come to the horrifying realisation that he's more cunning than you gave him credit for when you ask why he's doing this, and he plainly says that he just wanted you. and so, he took you. simple as. old school prison mentality. finders keepers.

but don't worry. he'll give you a better one later on when you come back to town as a Riley.

you just have to learn how to behave.

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

stepdad!price x innocent!reader

note: this is a prequel to a possible series with stepdad!price x innocent!reader (obviously). reader is of age.

note 2: price is 37 reader is about 18-19 (DARK STORY !!!!!), reader gets picked up by price, 6'5 beefy price, shorter reader

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

lying your head on your stepfather's shoulder, you pressed your front against his side--leg thrown over his as you two got comfortable on the couch as you began watching a movie. a blanket thrown over the two of you as you nuzzled your head further into his shoulder, nibbling on your lower lip as you focused intently on the movie.

price let out a shaky breath, his eyes glancing from you to the tv to you again.

don't do it.

she's forbidden fruit.

but she is the sweetest fruit of all.

he kissed the top of your head, and you replied with his action by taking his hand under the blanket and absent-mindedly twisting the rings on his finger.

one of his rings: the wedding band.

the wedding band from the wedding between your mother and him.

it seared his skin.

he could not help that he had gotten married to the wrong person.

it should have been you.

but he had to remind himself that you were much too young.

freshly an adult. and he was 37. 37.

what the fuck was wrong with him?

he can't help that he fell in wrong with you.

you were too young..too innocent. too pure. he had blood on his hands.

your small hands fidgeted with his large, warm ones as you traced his knuckles with your cold fingers, creating odd designs that warmed his chest.

he must have been much too into his thoughts, as you giggled at something that happened in the movie, grasping and ungrasping his hand as you continued to fidget with his rings.

you looked up at him, your lips so close to his as you smiled softly. everything in him wanted to capture your lips in a kiss. your first kiss.

but he knew he couldn't.

instead, his softened eyes watched your face with pure love.

you snuggled impossibly closer to him, practically on his lap.

"honey?" his voice was deep but soft. he cleared his throat.

your eyes watched the television, never leaving them as you hummed a small, "hm?"

price thought for a moment.

your mother was out for the weekend. he could have you now...

no.

"uh, nothin'." he concluded, and you paid no mind. his right hand crept down to your exposed thighs that were thrown over his lap. he tried to ignore the intense throbbing and want that thrummed under his jean zipper.

he slowly tickled his fingers along the span of your thigh, down your calf and to your frilly-socked foot as you cutely wiggled your toes. his index traced along the delicate laced-ruffles--then down to rub the inside of your foot.

after a bit, his hand made its way back up to the side of your thigh again, running his fingers along the soft skin.

he looked over at you again.

god, how were you so beautiful?

his whole being ached with want.

he loved you so much it hurt his heart.

"that a new bow?" he asked, pinching the pink knot at the base of your messy pony tail.

you nodded, excitedly. "mm hm! do u like it?"

you always wanted his approval, and he knew that.

"i love it, sweetheart, 's beautiful jus' like you." he smiled, watching your face darken with a red blush. you giggled shyly.

"thank you, daddy." you replied quietly, still fidgeting with his hand under the blanket.

daddy.

god, were you trying to kill him?

he knows you've always had a bit of a crush on him. ever since you two met.

and he's only a little ashamed to say he immediately fell for you when you both met.

he was with the wrong girl.

he loves times like this though.

it is probably bad to say, but he loves when your mother is gone.

it reminds him of a life he could have possibly one day with you...away from it all. he has the money to start a new life with you, just not the opportunity yet.

he loves when you walk into the kitchen, stuffie pressed against your chest, hair messy, lips n eyes puffy with sleep; his t-shirt on and your cute little pink panties.

he loves when your sleepy. you cuddle up closer to him.

just this morning you stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing at your tired eyes.

price was already dressed for the day--up since 6 am.

"good morning, sweet girl." his voice made your heart flutter.

you whined, padding to where he leaned back on the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around his torso immediately. he picked you up with ease, kissing your face as you giggled.

he sat down on the couch as you straddled him tiredly, head pressed against his beefy chest.

"you're my favorite girl, y'know that?" he whispered, petting your hair.

it was true.

you were his absolute favorite.

and he was not just about to give that up.

[satorusluver]

Big boys ❤️

Tags: smut (MDNI), fem reader, size kink, missionary

Word count: 280 ish

Once again thinking about how big n beefy Nanami and Toji are and how they would completely dwarf you during missionary. They would probably feel so heavy on top of you but in the moment it feels so good - hard, broad chest against your soft one, strong arms with biceps the size of your head holding you in place and making you take everything they give you. Their hips would slam into you with enough force that you need them to do just that, and your own hips push back against their movements to take their heavy cock even deeper inside you, almost in your womb itself.

They're big boys with fittingly big girths that are wide enough to make you feel like you're being split in two, and it takes regular lovemaking to keep your tight hole used to their size enough to fit them comfortably. And when you start to get close, your greedy little cunt tightens and clenches around them even more as they pound into you, practically holding them hostage inside you as broken moans and cockdrunk praises fall from your lips.

They have different styles of fucking, though. Nanami's thrusts are smooth and skilled and he generally only goes hard enough to leave you a little sore the next day (unless you acted like a major brat in which case see photo above) whereas Toji's thrusts are always almost bed-breakingly rough and animalistic, the force of him ramming into your soft thighs and ass hard enough to ensure you will not be sitting comfortably for at least two days.

Rest assured though, they will both make your legs shake and your throat sore from screaming their name.

[gojo-mochi]

Asking JJK Men if you could watch them jerk off (Part 1; w/Toji, Gojo, and Geto)

CW: Dom!Toji and Soft!DomGeto, Gojo is sort of a Sub if you look closely. Usage of spit and praising, degrading words. Daddy kink for Toji as well. Part 2 will be with Choso, Sukuna, and Nanami. Comment to be tagged in Part 2 or comment who you wanna see in part 3! 

Part 2 Here!

Word Count: 3.2k

Toji: 

He will probably make you beg for it. If you wanna watch him so badly, you should show how badly you want it. He’ll sit manspread on the couch, his beefy thighs on either end. Pulling up the waistband of his gray sweats and letting it snap back into place. The outline of his hard cock can be seen every time he snaps it back. A wicked grin placed on his face as he watched you pout and whine that he was taking too long. He made you kneel on the floor in front of him, but slapped away your hand when you tried to take matters into your own hands and pull down his sweats yourself. 

“Tch. So fucking needy, can’t wait a goddamn minute, can you?” He sneered, scrunching up his nose at you. Still, his cock twitches with a heavy need; he would rather have your hands on him or, better yet, use that pretty throat of yours to fuck. But since you begged him so politely, he could let you have this one, just this once though. Finally pulling down his sweats, he never wears boxers at home so his cock springs up heavily, thick and red. The veins throbbing deliciously, making your mouth water at the sight. Some trickle of precum already tainting the unruly bush that Toji doesn’t bother to take care of.

 Toji’s hand easily engulfed and wraps around his own length, the scarred hand slowly running up and down on it. Toji lets out a soft hiss, moving his hand a bit faster before stopping abruptly. You blinked in confusion, you were enjoying the sight and started whining again asking why he stopped. He shushes you by putting a finger on your lips, from the same hand that he was jerking off with, so you could smell his musk when he did that. You were about to bite at his hand when he held his palm open in front of you. Uttering one command. 

“Spit.” 

You obeyed without a word, spitting right on Toji’s palm as he watched you with an intense gaze. He brought his other hand down to squeeze and pinch at your cheek with a mocking coo.

 “Good girl~” He said it sarcastically, but he knew that those words affected you either way, by the way you were rubbing your thighs together. Your hands inching down your skirt, trying to get some relief of your own. 

“You better keep your hands to yourself, if you want me to continue, doll.” You glared at him, crossing your arms and huffing out. “Well, get on with it then, Toji.” He raises an eyebrow at you, his hand back on his cock but not moving this time. “What was that, doll?” Silence, you didn’t dare make a sound, knowing that you made the wrong move by calling him by his name. “Eyes on me, doll.” Your eyes barely got to look at the ground for a mere second before Toji made you snap them back up. Cowering back a bit, you muttered an apology. “Sorry, Daddy….” 

Toj stares at you for what seems like an eternity, making you sweat and shrink in yourself even more. He snorts at your display; “Keep those eyes on me, you were the one who wanted this, so watch.” You straighten up your back, your eyes glued onto Toji’s form. He takes it slow again, gently coating his cock with your spit, grunting as all the talk before made it a little bit cold. His hand leisurely went up his length, his thumb playing with his slit for a bit, then coming down. Repeating this process a couple times as you watch on in awe, memorizing and soaking in every little reaction Toji made. From the low grunts and hisses he made to the way his cock twitched slightly every time he passed a certain vein. 

Your spit wasn’t enough to completely cover everything, so he started using some of the precum that gushed out to help. You wring your hands together, watching Toji flutter his eyelashes and emit a deep groan, your pussy fluttering as well. “Is this what you wanted, huh? Needy little thing you…so fucking perverted aren’t you? Wanting to watch me jerk off.” He smirks at your mewls of embarrassment. Your hands balled into fists in your lap as you fought off the urge to disobey Toji’s earlier command. 

 “Hahhh-fuck- It be better if I were using that slutty mouth of yours instead, or better yet, I should be fucking that filthy pussy of yours. I bet she’s crying for me, right now, isn’t she?” Another groan gets out as Toji squeezes his tip, grunting heavily as he throws out more degrading words at you. “It's a shame for me to waste my cum like this, you know? After all, I know how much you like it when Daddy fills you up to the brim…” Your nails dig into your thighs as you rub them together, trying to get a little bit of friction you so desperately needed. 

After a few more passes of his hand, fisting his cock lazily, Toji threw his head back and sighed in annoyance; “I’m getting bored of this.” His eyes darken, taking in your appearance. Your chest, heaving up and down slowly, your hands shaking at your side, the sweet  blush that comes across the bridge of your nose. He grins down wolfishly at you, a hunger evident in his aura. He slaps his thigh with his free hand. “C’ere and help me, Doll. This will be your punishment for earlier…”

Satoru:

So, soooooo smug about it when you asked him if you could watch him do it. So annoying about it too, bending over and placing a hand behind his ear as he pretended not to hear you the first time. “Huh? What was that? You wanted to watch me do what?” He got right up in your personal space, you almost regretted asking him but pressed on anyway. “I want to watch you…jerk off in front of me, Satoru.” He grinned like a cat that had found a stash of cream, bending backwards this time so he could look up at you from below.  

Slipping a thumb under his blindfold and pulling it up just a bit to peek one eye up at you. “You wanna watch me? The Gojo Satoru?! Jerk his massive 10-inch cock right in-Mmph!” You clasped your hand over his mouth, looking around frantically to see if anyone was nearby to hear that. “Satoru! We are still in school!” You hissed at him, squealing and reeling your hand in disgust back when Satoru licked it. “Toru! Ugh! You’re such a child!” Satoru bounced back to his standing height, sticking out his tongue at you. 

“You were the one that asked me first, and I thought you liked it when I used my tongue on you.” He wiggled his eyebrow at you from underneath his blindfold, and you retorted back by wiping your stained hand on his shirt. He was about to say something back when Yuji’s boisterous voice called out to the both of you. “Gojo-Sensei! Y/N-Sensei!” He ran ahead of Nobara and Megumi, waving his arms up and down enthusiastically as he barreled toward you. Giving you an almost crushing bear hug, which you gladly returned. “Nice to see you too, Yuji.” 

 You felt Satoru’s immense jealous energy pour out from behind you, patting Yuji on the back and falling back to Satoru’s side. Nobara and Megumi catch up to Yuji, both of them giving you a knowing look as Satoru wraps his arm around your shoulder and begins to drag you away. Stating that you had teacher work to do or whatever. You can hear Yuji’s sad mumbling as he wanted to see if you and Satoru would go see Human Earthworm 3 remake with him. Nobara and Megumi sighed, dragging Yuji away. 

“Come on,We’ll go see that stupid movie with you.”

“I’m leaving halfway through though; there’s a sale happening at Harajuku that me and Maki are going to.” 

“What?! But that when the best part of the movie happens, it's when the scientist is revealed to actually be the-”

Your student's voice fades away as Satoru hurries you back to the school building, pushing you into an empty classroom and closing the door. He brings a chair right in front of the teacher desk, motioning for you to sit on it. Now you really regret asking him to do this, you hesitatingly sit down, watching Satoru’s action carefully. He made a big show for you, dancing around the teacher’s desk for a bit, doing a little spin and bow before propping down on top. 

Leaning back on one hand and crossing his legs, he tilts his head back a bit in a mocking stance. You fold your arms, deciding to play along with Satoru’s game, knowing that if you walk out now, he’s gonna pout about it for weeks on end. He points a finger at you silently, waiting for you to speak. You just shrugged at him, not knowing what he wanted from you, this only made Satoru furrow his brows in even deeper. 

“Do you understand why you’re here, Miss Y/N?”

“No, I don’t, Satoru-”

“Ah-Ah! It’s Gojo-Sensei to you.”

“.....Gojo-Sensei.” 

Satoru stifled a giggle, almost losing his composure. He uncrosses his legs and leans forward, clasping his hands together as he speaks down to you. “Well, I see that you've been slacking lately, perhaps feeling a little unmotivated?” He frowns, even fabricating a worried tone in his voice. You tuck some hair behind your ear, blinking in some tears in your eyes. “Sorry, Gojo-Sensei. It's just been getting hard for me to focus lately..” You wobble your lips cutely, making Satoru giggle for real this time, hiding it behind a cough right after.  

“Hmm.. that is a problem, but I think I know what I can do to help motivate you.” 

He takes off his blindfold first, letting his snowy hair fall down gracefully, framing his face beautifully. His hand comes down to unzip his pants, pulling down just enough for his bulge to show through his briefs. He palms at the bulge for a bit while he looks at you, licking his lips. “Nghhah-I want you to watch your teacher carefully, alright, my precious student?” Satoru’s voice rasps out, biting his bottom lips as he fishes out his cock, you always thought it was truly pretty. 

Not quite thick, but it makes it up in length and topped with a snowy patch that was always neatly trimmed. Your mouth dries up looking at Satoru’s long and slender fingers wrapped around his cock. His hands were pretty too, you thought silently, everything about Satoru just screamed an angelic beauty. He bucks up his hips into his hand, letting out a soft curse. “Fuck-mmphhh…” He keeps an even pace with his hand as he moves it up and down his own length, twisting it at the top and holding it there for a moment while he addresses you. “Come on now, tell your teacher your thoughts-nghh-tell him like that you like what you see..”  

 You shift on the chair, feeling your own arousal start to soak your panties; “I like it a lot, Gojo-Sensei. So good for me, you look so pretty…” Your compliment went straight to his cock; “Ye-yeah, baby? Tell me more, tell me how good I look right now.” He buck up even more in his hand, fisting his cock faster and faster. His glossy, plump lips part to let out lascivious moans and whiny pants. His thighs started to shake a bit as he was nearing his peak. 

“Oh Toru, you’re doing so good, fuck-I wanna eat you up right now. Come on, honey, can you cum for me? Let me see how good you look when you cum.” 

With one last whine, Satoru finishes all over his hand, rope of cum spilling out on his briefs and even staining the floor below. You would need to clean that up later but you didn’t care at the moment, more occupied by the immense need to fit Satoru’s cock down your throat so you could hear those whines again. 

“Thank you for the lesson, Gojo-Sensei. Can I reward you for being such a good teacher now?” 

Suguru: 

You were too nervous to ask him outright, but he noticed you were always staring at his crotch when he sat on the couch. He snaps his fingers, pulling you out of your haze. “Hello? Dear? You alright there?” Suguru’s baritone voice rings out to you, a small smirk tugging on his lips as he watches your eyes flicker from his pants to his face. “Huh? Oh, um yeah, I’m fine.” Suguru hums in return; his dark eyes boring straight into your soul and pussy. He curls a finger in, motioning for you to come stand in front of him. 

Your body moves first before your mind can even think; you're already used to following Suguru’s commands obediently and swiftly. As you stand in front of him, he grabs your hands in his and intertwines your fingers together. “Sweetheart, remember? I told you, you don’t have to be shy around me. Tell me what’s on your mind.” You opened your mouth to reply. Suguru tacked on one more thing before you could. “And if you try to tell me that it was ‘Nothing’, remember also that I have ways of making you talk, love.” He threatened with a light feathery tone, you squirmed a bit, remembering the last time you didn’t listen to Suguru. You couldn’t walk right for a week after.  

It took a few squeezes of your hands for you to voice out your request. “I want to watch you masturbate in front of me, Suguru.” Your confession made your ears burn and you were quick to pull back both physically and verbally. “Only if you’re ok with it, I-” As you tried to pull your hands away and step back, Suguru’s entrapped you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap, his lips directly next to your ear as he chuckled deeply. “Was that all, my love? Such an easy request, no need to feel bad about it.” You let out a little yelp as Suguru bit on your earlobe, licking at the small wound after. 

The sensation was already making you wet, heat pulsing at your core, barely catching Suguru’s next commands for you.”Kneel down in front of me, love.” He spreads his thighs apart, so you have ample room down there. You get down from Suguru’s thigh, kneeling down as he pats your heads, weaving his fingers through your locks. “Good girl~, rest your cheek on my thigh and enjoy the show, alright~?” You squish your cheeks against Suguru’s sturdy thigh, eyes on his delicate hands, as he makes quick work of unzipping his pants and shimmering them down just enough for his boxers to go down too. 

 You rub your thighs together as his cock springs out, half-hard, curving slightly upwards. Your face was so close to it, you could easily see all the veins and small twitches it made. Suguru watches as you bring your own hand down, slipping it under your shorts, as loose moans escape your lips. The puffs of air hitting on his cock deliciously. An idea popped into Suguru's head as he watched on. Two fingers gently tapping your cheek to get your attention, “Dearest, could you do something for me?��� 

“Hmm?” Your mind was already falling into that hazy mode whenever Suguru started to order you around, using that soft commanding lithe in his voice that lulled you into a different world. His fingers trace your bottom lips, which you open easily, letting the digit invade your mouth. Your tongue swirling around Suguru’s fingers, coating them in saliva, your own fingers still playing with your pussy under your shorts. “Good~ Now, I want you to get your hand all nice and wet down there for me, alright? Play with yourself, imagine it’s my hand if you have to, dear.” 

 You groan as he pushes his fingers down on your tongue, rolling it over the wet muscle as you keep on plunging your own inside of yourself, diligently following Suguru’s command. Your thighs tremble, a high-pitched whine coming from your throat as your stomach starts to coil. “Stop.” Your hand follows his command instantly, even though your body laments the loss of pleasure. He takes out his fingers from your mouth and motions for you to bring your hand up. 

“Don’t whine too much, dear. Use your hand to coat my cock in your juices; make sure to cover everything~” His obsidian eyes peer down at you as you work, grabbing the base of his cock, smearing your arousal all over it, and slowly going upwards. Feeling Suguru’s length comes to full hardness in your hand. You did a few go around, Suguru stopping you the third time. Once his cock was wet and sticky, he praised you for doing a good job. 

 You folded your hands back on your lap, shifting your head on his thigh to get a good angle as he began to stroke his cock leisurely. Sighing out quietly, letting his hand go and his cock fall downwards a bit, every few strokes. Changing up the speed as he went, sometimes going so fast, the wet noises squelched every time his fist went all the way down to his balls. Or so agonizingly slow that low groans get ripped from his pretty lips. He was torturing himself just a little, since he loves observing your cute reactions to seeing him do so. Suguru enjoyed having your 100% full and undivided attention. 

 Some drool seeped out from the side of your mouth as you watched on, Suguru chuckled quietly at the sight. At you being so pliant and submissive, all for him. He taps you on the cheek to get your attention once more, “Sit up and face me, my dear.” You pulled away from his thigh, the bit of drool staining his pants a bit as you left. You sat back on your knees and faced his cock; “Eyes closed, I don’t want you to get injured-hahh..” He quickened his pace, the pleasure from seeing you so cutely waiting for his cum to be splattered on you, made it that much easier for Suguru to reach his peak.  He angles his cock right towards you as he releases, rope of cum spilling on your face hotly, you loll out your tongue as Suguru slaps his cock twice on it, letting the tip rub on your tongue for a little as the last spurts of cum gets out. A hefty moan leaves Suguru’s mouth as he does this, hasty and earnest praises fall as well. “Good…good girl~ You did so well for me, does my cum taste good, hmm? Hahh-fuck Mm we should do this more often. But now, it’s your turn, dear. Get up on the couch and let me have a taste of you…”

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Beautiful Stranger

I've Never Recognized a Purer Face (1)

Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've just moved to West View for collage with your parents and your neighbor has caught your attention.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R masturbates

A/N: This is an old piece I reworked a bit so here you go until my brain can focus on the prompt requests!

June 14, 2023

You had recently moved to West View, New Jersey with your parents. You'd be starting college here in the Fall along with your dad starting a new job in a week.

The hot summer air made you sweat even in your tank top and shorts, your tattooed body being shown off almost completely. Trying to get everything inside as quickly as possible was proving to be ineffective as you took a moment to collapse under the tree in your front yard, finding solace in the shade. “Gods it's too hot for this.” You grumbled out.

“Can I interest you in some lemonade?” You heard an unfamiliar, feminine voice ask from just above me as you opened your eyes. Your mouth drying up instantly at the sight of the beauty before you. Red hair flowing in waves over her shoulders, green eye like emeralds, her skin splashed with freckles not unlike your own face.

“H-hi…” You somehow managed out.

“Hi there I'm your neighbor, Wanda, Wanda Maximoff.” She pointed behind her at her house which looked identical to your house from the outside.

“I'm Y/N…Y/N Y/L/N.” Luckily your mother came over to save me from your awkwardness.

“Oh hello! I'm Y/M/N Y/L/N and my husband over there is Y/F/N Y/L/N. I see you've already met our Y/N/N.” You groaned, throwing yourself back down. “We just moved in for our little Y/N/N to go to collage and my husband to start a new job.” Your mother gushed.

“Ma please stop. I'm sure Wanda doesn't care about why we moved here.”

“Oh, but sweetie I do. I love the nick name by the way. Y/N/N.” The way it rolled off her tongue and her accent? Fuck it sent a shiver through you like it was the middle of December.

“Please just Y/N is fine.” You begged slightly not knowing if you could handle her using your name like that. “I'm going to go help dad. It was nice meeting you Wanda.” You told the older woman before leaving her with your mom for them to talk. Wanda was about your mom's age so probably twenty years older than me.

“Mom!”

“Mom!” You heard two different boys call at the same time as You came out of the moving van, the boys running up to Wanda. “We're going to go play with the Barton kids is that okay?” One of them asked.

“Of course boys. Go on and be back before the streetlights come on.” Wanda gave each of them a kiss on the forehead. When she leaned back up her eyes met yours. You felt your face flush at the thought of a kiss from the older woman before retreating into the house. The central air cooling you down.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

July 2,2023

There was a knock at the front door causing you to pause your game on your switch, getting up from the couch. Upon opening the door you were met with Wanda.

“Hi Y/N I know this is super last minute, but my babysitter canceled. Could you watch the boys?” Wanda asked desperately.

“Oh yeah sure of course I can.” You grabbed your keys and phone, following Wanda, totally not staring at her ass the whole time.

“Okay so here is $40 for dinner. Get them whatever they want it'll probably be pizza which the menu is on the fridge for their favorite place. Bedtime is 8pm. Billy is a little sensitive so if he isn't enthusiastic it's not you I promise. Tommy will probably try to pester you, don't let him. Oh and if I'm not back early and you get tired you can sleep in my bed. I'll wake you when I get home. Thank you for this I really appreciate it. Boys! Y/N from next door will be watching you tonight! Please behave for her!” Wanda called the boys barreling down the stairs and past you she gave each a kiss, “Be good you two. I love you.” She told them as they ran back off upstairs and it seems without much thought she kissed your cheek before leaving. Leaving you there with your face burning.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were scrolling through your phone, noticing it was past midnight. You didn't think Wanda would be gone this long. You didn't even ask what she was up to this evening? You got up from the couch, putting away the remaining pizza before quietly making your way upstairs. You checked on the boys who were fast asleep. Their sleeping faces made you smile as you quietly closed the door and found Wanda's room. As soon as you opened the door Wanda's scent of jasmine and sage overpowering you and sending a shot straight through your core. Closing the door behind you, swallowing hard as you sat on the bed; it is so soft. You lay down, your head on Wanda's pillow as her scent completely overtakes you and you can't help, but move your fingers between your legs, rubbing your clit furiously as you were completely wrapped up in Wanda. Moaning softly against her pillow as you came to the thought of her. You pulled your hand out, breathing heavily as you sucked your own fingers clean. You were in so deep and You knew it. It's not fair though Wanda didn't look like she was almost 40 she still looked like she was in her 20s and didn't have twin 5 year old boys.

You groaned against her pillow in frustration as You buried your face into it, getting under her duvet making it feel like Wanda was holding you and soon enough you fell asleep.

“Hey, sweet girl, come on wake up pretty girl.” You heard a gentle voice call.

“Mmm?” You turned to look over your shoulder, it was Wanda. “What time is it?” You asked sleep heavy in your voice.

“Really late sweet girl. You can stay if you want. I don't mind, I just ask that you move to the other side so I can sleep here on my pillows.” Wanda's voice was soft and she moved your hair out of your face.

You grumbled a bit, but moved over to the other set of pillows. You did move them ever so slightly to be closer as you turned to face her side of the bed as she settled in.

“Good night sweet girl. Thank you for everything.” You felt Wanda lean over once again placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Mmm s’ no problem…” You mumbled falling back to sleep almost instantly as her presence soothed you knowing she was home and safe now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You woke up in her bed, sitting up you rubbed your eyes as you heard a door open. Looking up to see Wanda through blurry eyes as you reached for your glasses on her side table.

“Good morning sweet girl. Did you sleep well?” Her unblurred form came into view, her hair was only slightly damp, a pair of dark gray, flared dress pants, a tucked in cream colored button down that she purposefully left the top ones unbuttoned to show her amazing cleavage off. She was currently grabbing a hair clip to get her hair up which once she did looked amazingly effortlessly beautiful.

“Good.” You manage as your breath hitches remembering what you did in this bed last night.

“Well you certainly don't have to stay, but I am making breakfast. Pancakes.” Wanda wiggled her eyebrows at me making me laugh.

“Can you make chocolate chip pancakes?” You ask shyly.

“For you? Yes. Come on.” She started making her way out and you followed, grabbing your phone.

The boys were already downstairs watching cartoons, Wanda giving them each a kiss on the top of the head.

“Why is Y/N still here?” Tommy asked, noticing me as You went to sit at the kitchen island.

“I told her she could stay the night because of how late I'd be getting back, is that okay with you little man?” Wanda asked and he shrugged.

“I guess. She's better than dad.” Tommy off-handedly states catching both Wanda and you off guard.

“Excuse me?” Wanda's voice is stern suddenly and it feels like You shouldn't be here.

“I'm just saying that I like her better.” Tommy spent one night hanging around you and is now stating he likes you better than the father you didn't even consider they probably have somewhere.

“Thomas Oleg Maximoff. I know things aren't the best with your father right now, but that isn't nice.” Wanda is stern with her son in this moment who recoils slightly.

“I'm sorry mom…” he says with his head down.

“I know you're having a lot of big feelings about everything going on between your father and I right now, but he's still your father.” Wanda's voice softens a bit. You hadn't really seen it other than in exaggerated tiktoks, but Wanda seems to have the gentle parent style, much unlike your parents who had a very authoritative style. The two hug it out before Wanda joins you in the kitchen.

She silently moves about the kitchen as she grabs things and when it comes to chocolate chips she has bags just about every kind you can think of.

“Which kind do you want sweet girl?” Wanda asks and you feel overwhelmed at first. You decided to do a triple chip of milk, white, and peanut butter chips. “I see you have a big sweet tooth.” She comments.

“Yeah. I always have. I used to get cavities a lot as a kid cause I didn't brush properly, but I got better as I got older.” You told her, grabbing a handful of chips which she smacked your hand playfully. You laughed and took another, sticking your tongue out.

“Oh naughty girl.” She teased and you felt a heat inside again as you shifted in your seat, trying to alleviate it slightly. You saw Wanda flick her eyes at you, before going back to her pancakes. Had she noticed? Surely she hadn't.

“Boys! Breakfast!” Wanda had gotten out a whole plethora of goodies it felt more like we were having dessert. Syrup, butter, whip cream, peanut butter, chocolate sauce. You'd never seen so much effort go into something like this.

You all moved to the dinning table as the boys dug into their stacks covering their pancakes in syrup until they were drowning.

Wanda grabbed coffee for the two of you and milk for the boys.

“Thank you.” You smiled taking a sip and revealed in the warmth it provided you.

“Of course sweet girl. Now tell me. You're starting college in a month right?” Wanda asked and you nodded as you ripped up your pancake, taking a bite.

“Yes. I took a few years off. Was only supposed to be a year then one thing led to another and it turned into three years.” You explained.

“So you're twenty?” You shook your head.

“Sorry I should explain I was taking a gap year from college after I had to deal with some personal things. I left college when I was twenty, planning to go back in a year, but now I'm twenty-three.” Wanda nodded her head.

“What will you be majoring in?”

“Well originally I was doing psychology. I wanted to go into children's psych, but realized it was a lot of work that I personally couldn't keep up with. Then I was thinking about history, but then I'd have to double major into teaching to do anything meaningful with it, so now I'm going for cyber security.” You smiled, finally explaining your weird college timeline. Wanda laughed a bit.

“You've certainly had an interesting ride, pretty girl.” Wanda leaned on the table and you didn't miss the look Tommy was throwing between his mother and you.

“Yeah I'm just happy to get back on track. The cyber security program teaches from the bottom up and I can get some pretty good offers through the college and freelancing is always an option. I'm already good at programming so maybe I can make my own security program.”

“I'm sure you can do anything you set your mind to pretty girl.” You smile and blush, bashful, at her compliments. You stare down at your mostly finished pancakes.

“Thank you…”

[madamechrissy]

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- anal sex, p in v sex, smacking, 69, they just freaks fr lol

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ this chap- 9.2k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right? That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU

Chapter 11 ♡ ♡ Masterlist ♡ ♡ Playlist

Chapter 12

“Hey baby!” You blink a bit as you feel toned, slender arms, not the beefy ones you’re so used to around you. You gasp, looking up, and seeing Maki’s pretty face grinning at you.

“Maki!” You hug her tightly to you, as you see Satoru and Professor Nanami smiling at you two. “Oh! Mr. Nanami, hello!”

“Hello there. Good morning.” His handsome face has a smirk, as he wears some fancy green sunglasses, in contrast to Satoru’s dark blue Gucci shades. They look like a million bucks while you’re in your damn skull Pjs, making you blush.

“What are you all doing here? I’m so excited to see you, but I’m… I’m in my pajamas.”

“You look cute!” Maki teases as you sit up, flushed.

“You do look cute.” Gojo winks then, planting a kiss on your forehead, your eyes flutter shut. “Ya sore, huh Miss Brat?” His breath tickles your ear, as vivid images of last night fill your mind.

“Shush!” You hiss, hoping no one heard his lewd whisper, and he just chuckles, standing you up and hugging you to him tightly. “I am sore, though.”

“Knew it!” You snort a bit, as he pulls back, tilting your chin up then. “Maki is here to help you pick out a wedding dress. Doesn’t have to be anything crazy, but I want you to still dress up for me, beautiful.” You melt then, looking down shyly.

“Oh she’s gonna look so good, gonna max that credit card, Professor.” Maki teases, grinning as she bounces up. You giggle then, feeling your heart swell as you look up at your fiance’s beautiful face.

“You brought her here for me?”

“Course I did, you’re my baby girl. I knew it would make you happy.” You blink back emotions then, sucking in a breath.

“Thank you, so so much! Let me get dressed!” Nanami and Maki step out, but Gojo lingers with a wide grin. “Out.”

“Oh fine, no fun!” He sticks his tongue out, earning your own tongue, before he lets you get yourself together. You quickly brush your teeth, wash your face and put on a little sundress you have brought over. You step back out into Satoru’s living room and see they’re all sipping on coffee.

Nanami starts to make you a cup as Maki and Satoru are shoving at each other and laughing, making your tummy flutter with how fucking happy you are, despite everything so overwhelming. “How do you take your coffee?”

You look at  Mr.Nanami then, who is smiling softly, illuminating his strong features. “Just cream and a little sugar. You don’t have to!”

“Nonsense. Here you go.” You take it gratefully from him, smiling softly back, looking down at his rather interesting cheetah tie.

“Thank you, Mr. Nanami.”

“I told you, call me Nanami.” You blush a bit, Mr. Nanami always seems so serious and teacher-like, unlike the more casual Suguru and the… Well, your crazy Satoru Gojo.

“Nanami. Thank you for coming. I was worried you’d be so mad at me.” You take a sip nervously, leaning on the counter as Nanami frowns.

“Not at all.”

“But you said be careful, and I fucked that way up!”

“You’re in love, clearly. Both of you.” He looks over at Gojo now, who’s expressively talking, waving his long arms, earning a smile from both you and Nanami as you watch.

“I’m so glad you understand. I know you and Toru are close.”

“Toru, huh.” You just blush again, and Nanami laughs softly, brushing back his sandy blonde hair. “We have known each other forever. He’s an idiot, but he’s a very good person. He’d do anything for you.”

“I know that, and it’s worrying. He’ll ruin his life-”

“No, what would ruin his life is you not in it. Trust me, I’ve had to hear endlessly about you since you met him.”

“What!?”

“Mmm, since that night. I’ve heard in vivid detail.” Now he’s blushing, clearing his throat, and you grimace, covering your face.

“Oh god. I’m sorry, he has such a big mouth.”

“You’re telling me, legs.”

“Hey!” You shove at him playfully, fuck if he wasn’t more buff that Satoru or Suguru, what were these men doing!? He just raises his brows.

“Well they are rather nice.”

“Oh god!” You’re choking on your coffee, earning another soft laugh from Mr. Nanami now. Satoru and Maki come bouncing back over.

“You’re flirting with another professor, Jesus Miss Brat!”

“Fuck off, Toru.” You flip him off, earning him putting down your coffee and snatching you up against him, gripping your chin. “He called me legs!” You whisper, and Gojo raises his brows.

“Told ya.” He winks, so goddamn handsome, you just roll your eyes and laugh softly, as he kisses you, and you taste the sweet cream and sugar on his lips. You sigh and cling to him, pressing against him, his big hand so warm on your back, pulling back to look up at him.

“You’re so sweet to bring Maki, thank you Toru.”

“Of course, anything for you, baby girl.” He kisses you again, brushing your hair back softly. “Now… you pick something beautiful. Shoes and accessories too. And Maki, pick yourself out something pretty to wear.”

“Oh, it’ll be so expensive.” She wiggles a black credit card of Satoru’s, and he snorts at that.

“Anything you want, just make sure she has something as pretty as her, if it’s possible.”

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna puke.” Maki gags, and Nanami chuckles.

“It’s sickening.” He agrees, earning Gojo’s glare.

“Oh pipe down, we’re stinking adorable you know.” Satoru winks as he hugs you tightly. “Anyway, get whatever you girls want. Just because it’s gonna be something small doesn’t mean we shouldn’t look good.”

“Are you and Nanami getting suits?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“No, I already have a room full, and so does he. We have to deal with some legal boring shit.” You frown at that, and Satoru notices, his full lips pouting, swirling cerulean depths of his eyes, emotional then. “Baby girl, it's fine.”

“I am going to visit some options, that's all.” Nanami assures you. “And… help him pick out wedding rings for you.”

“Oh! Oh my…” Your heart is racing at the thought, as Satoru kisses your ring finger, like he’s thinking it too. “Nothing crazy, please.”

He snorts. “It’ll be huge!”

“It’ll be classy.” Nanami corrects, and you exhale.

“Thank you Nanami.”

“Thank you Nanami. Stop flirting with my friends, brat.”

“Fuck you, Professor Dickhead, am not!” You shove at him, only for him to pull you closer.

“Don’t want a big rock?”

“Not that big…”

“Ha that’s what NO ONE has ever said!” He’s snickering, and you all three roll your eyes.

“Gojo, you’re such an idiot.” Nanami grumbles, earning Gojo’s pout.

“You’re so mean to me, both of you. Maki, defend me here.”

“Well you’re paying for me so… go for it, Professor.”

“Maki!” She laughs at your expression, brushing back her emerald hair.

“I think a big rock sounds good.” She says with a wink behind her black framed glasses, but then she sighs. “But, it’s not really her style. She’s a little more… simple and elegant.”

“Noted.” Nanami says, winking at you with hazel eyes, hands in the pockets of his khaki slacks. Satoru sighs, pulling your back against him, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh fine, I’ll let Nanami help me choose something classy. You get to pick out my wedding band too.” Your tummy clenches at the thought, as you hold his hand and kiss on his fingers.

“Fuck, it’s insane but I’m so excited!?” You admit, earning his soft smile against your neck.

“I’m excited too. Very.” He pulls your ass back against him, and you feel just how excited Satoru is on your back. You’re a blushing mess, all damn morning you have been, as desire hits hard. Would this insane need ever die out the tiniest bit? You don’t think so, and you’d never want it to. “So… we’ll meet up for lunch after we all get what we need done. Sound good?”

You peek up at your fiance, smiling at his pretty face. “Sounds good to me, Fiance.”

He damn near purrs, kissing you and cupping your chin. “Mmm, I like that. But… it’ll be wife soon, won’t it.”

“Gotta use fiance for the few days we can.” He grins, those stark white teeth glinting in the wide open room, the sun pouring in the windows, illuminating all of Satoru’s perfect features. “So we think we could get Satoru back into law?” You ask Nanami then, he sighs, sipping on his coffee carefully.

“We sure will try, Suguru and I have told the school we will quit if they let Satoru and you go. So hopefully, some leverage.” Your mouth drops at that, your heart sinking to your stomach, Satoru holds you gently, brushing his hands down your upper arms up and down.

“You shouldn’t have to do that! You shouldn’t, not for me.” You feel tears threatening to fall, and Nanami puts his cup down then, walking over, patting your head gently like you’re a kid.

“Darling, it’s fine, we can’t stand for this corruption to keep happening, it’s not just in any way, shape or form. It is the right thing to do.” Nanami says, and you can’t stop the little tears that fall, and watch Nanami’s lips part, a sigh escaping his lips. “Don’t cry, please…”

“Please don’t! You make me wanna cry.” Maki says then, snuggling to you, as you sniffle, and Satoru cups your face, swiping your tears.

“It’ll be okay, Nanami and Sugu are well respected, if this school isn’t it, they have a million opportunities.” He says, but you shake your head, as you feel your blood pressure rising, making your hands numb, you shake them, feeling so hot now.

“I can’t live with myself hurting so many people. You and your friends.” He swipes at the tears that keep falling, bending low and kissing your head.

“You haven’t hurt anyone. My shit parents, with their money in everyone’s fucking pockets are hurting you. Nanami and Sugu give us leverage, it will all work out. Don’t worry so much.” You sigh, nodding a bit, trying to compose yourself. “We will all be fine, promise. Let us work on our end, you two have a fun day and pick pretty outfits, mmkay?”

“Okay. We will. Promise.” Satoru hugs you tightly, pulling back and tilting your chin up.

“Lemme see a smile, pretty girl.” You manage a small one, and he exhales, kissing your lips gently, pressing them upon yours, over and over, little smacks and pops, and a ‘mwah’ sound, until you’re giggling. “There it is! Pretty smile.”

“Thank you, thanks all of you.” You say, as Satoru pops kisses on your cheeks, all sticky from your tears.

“Now, my driver will take you all to wherever you need to go. I’ll text you when we’re done. Go have some fun, please…” His voice is serious, his jaw clenched just a bit as he speaks. “For me. Have some fun, lord knows you’ve had enough going on to make you…”

“Marrying you makes me stupidly happy. It makes me forget everything bad that’s happened.” He exhales then, and you could tell it’s worrying him, you put two hands on his pretty face, tiptoeing and kissing his chin. “Promise.”

“Well who wouldn’t be happy? I’m Satoru Gojo.” He’s shameless, wiggling his brows with a grin.

“Oh god.” Nanami grumbles, along with Maki, making you giggle. “Let’s head out, we have a lot to do.”

“Bye Shnookums, see you soon.” Satoru whispers, helping you into the back of a sleek black car. “Maki take care of my girl.”

“Our girl, Professor.” Satoru snorts, rolling his eyes, and then Maki scooches to you, big grin on her face now. “You got the richest husband, he said a 10k limit A DAY, bitch!!!”

“Maki, you’re so crazy.” You roll your eyes with a laugh. “I am so glad you’re here, where’s Yuta?”

“Sulking he can’t go wedding dress shopping with us. That boy! Sometimes he can’t let us have girl time.”

“He just loves us, is all.”

“I know. But I wanted time with you before… fuck, you were really trying to leave me, huh?” She tears up a bit, so rare for her, looking away, and you feel horrible, guilt gnawing at you.

“He told you?” You ask softly, and she looks back, more composed, nodding. “Fuck I’m sorry, Maki. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You can’t leave me, okay? We promised, we’d always be friends.” She holds out her pinky, and you enwrap yours with hers, feeling those tears again.

“We always will be. I was scared, for Toru, for everyone, fuck his parents are horrible Maki��� like I’d take another foster home.”

“I heard. Shit, that man loves you, you know that? He’s obsessed with you, like it’s intense.”

“I know. I am too, I think Satoru shows it more.” You pull her in for a hug then, squeezing her body tight. “Maki, I will never leave. I’ll face the shit dead on.”

“That’s my girl. Now, let’s stop this sappy shit, and spend your man’s money.” You both giggle as you head on what feels like such an adventure, and for once there is so much hope in your heart, despite all the challenges. Being with your best friend planning a wedding to the man you adore.

You and Maki are sipping mimosas in this stupidly fancy bridal boutique about an hour later, as you’re trying on different dresses, they’re all so beautiful, but some seem so extravagant for the little wedding you all are having. Fuck this insane, right, that you’re getting married!? You figured engagement would be enough to scare his parents, but Satoru wanted this.

He wants to marry you.

And fuck, you want to marry him. So badly, even if it’s way too fast, even if you both have lost your minds, even if the world is falling apart all around you both, it’s as if nothing matters when you’re in his arms. Shit, if you say it out loud it’s so wild, like some movie you’d make fun of with Maki and Yuta, of that deep love that surpasses everything, but it is your life.

Satoru Gojo has surely become the very air you breathe.

You’re in one of the more simple gowns now, after Maki and the ladies there had given you so many insane gowns, glittering and so beautiful, with flouncing skirts, ones that made you look like a queen. Some were bright white, some cream, Maki had even had a black dress that made you look like some Victorian goth dream. You loved all of them but…

This one? It’s a gorgeous white silk at the top, with intricate little beading at the bodice that glitters under the dressing room lights, and it’s cinched at the waist, but flows softly down to your toes, with soft tulle, lacy little silver roses peppering it like little stars in the sky. The sleeves are off shoulder, and it makes your breasts press up high, makes your waist so teeny, the perfect silhouette.

It’s so beautiful, as you turn this way and that in the mirror, feeling it all start to hit you then, that you’re doing this, that you’re marrying this amazing, crazy man, that you love him so much it’s like your heart is going to burst out of your chest, it’s so full. You step out of the changing room, and Maki’s eyes light up, and she gasps.

“Oh my god, you look so fucking stunning!” She runs to you, hugging you tight, her eyes wide with happiness, before stepping back and looking you up and down. “You look like a fucking angel.”

You sniffle a bit, smiling, looking down at the dress, your heart racing, your palms sweaty. “Really, you think so?”

“Yes, really! Gojo is gonna lose his shit when he sees this, gonna be like one of those looney toons with the heart eyes.” You laugh at the images in your head, of some cartoon Gojo with his tongue hanging out, as Maki holds your arms out. “Damn, this body looks fire!”

“I love you, Maki, I swear to god I do.” You do a little spin then, as the attendants come up.

“You look so beautiful!” One says.

“The prettiest bride, so elegant!” The other says,

“Oh thank you, ladies. I think I have to take this one.”

“We will need some shoes, a veil, all that though.” Maki says, and you hum a bit thinking of a veil. “Or a tiara? Like a whole princess.”

“Maybe a small tiara?” You now have the dress in its clothing bag, along with glittery white low heels and a delicate little tiara. “Now, you Maki!”

You both decide on a gorgeous blue dress for her, that makes the toned curves of her body look so beautiful, hugging them. You gasp, bouncing up and down, as the attendants smile at you two.” What do you think!?”

 “Maki, you’re so fucking hot!”

“Thank you baby, gotta look good for you.” You kiss each other’s cheeks, hugging tightly, slightly buzzed and silly from the drinks and the excitement.

“You look so beautiful, oh god I better be the maid of honor at your wedding!” You are hugging her tightly, both of you swirling as if you’re dancing now.

“Too soon to think of that, babe, I’ll leave you and Gojo to the epic love, Yuta and I have all the time.” She says, and you sigh, biting your lip, brows together. “Shit, was that…”

“No, Maki, it’s true. We’re crazy for this. Wedding as protection or a tactic, I know it’s… not how I thought it would go.”

“But you’d marry him anyway, any time. Yeah?”

“I would. Fuck probably that night at the club.” You whisper, so flushed, and she grins at that.

“He’s that good with that tongue huh?”

“Maki!”

Having secured dresses and shoes, it’s now time to get jewelry for you both, and you all run right into Satoru and Nanami. You giddily run up to Satoru, who hugs you tightly, kissing you so sweet, as you inhale that expensive cologne you love so much. “Toru! You’re here!”

“I am, I just got done picking the ring out. Oooh, and I got you something for this bracelet.” He takes your wrist, and as always you’re just a little shaky when he takes it off, making him smile a bit, snowy white lashes lowering over his blue eyes. “You’ll get it right back, Miss Brat.”

“I know. I get weird about it.” He chuckles a bit, as Nanami and Maki are talking, and she’s looking for accessories for you both with him.

“I hope you’ll keep that ring on just as much.”

“Of course, I’ll never take it off Satoru.” He blinks a bit, lips parting, as he unclasps your bracelet carefully, then he grabs a little white box.

“Better not. I’ll have to reprimand you.” You snort at that, rolling your eyes, he’s trying to lighten the mood, ease the tension as he always does, but you know he truly wants to make sure you want this. He pops out another bead and a charm, and you melt when you see it.

“Toru… it’s a little wedding ring charm!” He slides it on your bracelet, which is slowly filling up as you are with him, like little mementos of your relationship so far. It’s a pretty gold miniature ring with a diamond at the top, dangling off the bracelet, as he slides a pretty blue bead next to it, clipping it back on your wrist. “I love it so much, it’s so perfect.”

“You get so excited about beads, just wait how much I’ll give you, now that you’re mine.” His husky words, his intense stare, makes you weak, your tummy doing insane flips as your hands meet each other at the palms, pressing together, his fingers more than twice of yours and your little hand, making you feel so safe as they entwine.

“You gonna spoil me, hmm Daddy Toru?” You tease, whispering against his lips, eliciting a soft moan, his eyes shutting for a moment, his free hand slipping down your hip.

“Don’t do that here, I swear I’ll find somewhere to fuck you right now.” You just giggle and he glares. “Teasing me, huh brat? Let’s see how well that will work.”

“I can’t wait for the punishment.” You stick out your tongue through your teeth, and he rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing too. “Satoru, even though it’s insane, I can’t help but be so happy, like…”

“Me too.” You both kiss softly again. “Now, you have a ring to pick out for me, selfish brat.”

“Hey!”

Soon the four of you have all sorts of goodies, Nanami has bought himself a new gold watch, Maki has a pretty blue necklace, and you have delicate accessories for your pretty dress. You now also have picked the perfect ring for Satoru, which you make sure he does not see, a white gold band decked with five brilliant sapphires, which sits on your little finger.

You picture it on his hand, on those long fingers, those big knuckles of his, then you picture… lewd things. Of your pussy dripping down onto his ring, and you hurriedly put it in a box for purchase, hating that just something so simple makes you lose your mind. You can’t stop thinking of this sexy ass, conceited little shit, who grins over at Nanami and Maki as he’s making some dumb joke.

He’s running a hand through his snowy white hair, that dark blue suit looking like a million bucks on him, and you can’t help but be enthralled for a moment. He looks to you, a hand in his pocket, grinning now, such affection and love in his gaze it makes your heart ache, as you think, you could have lost him. And how could you ever live without him now?

“You got it picked out, Shnookums?” He asks, and you snap out of it, nodding and thanking the salesperson for it.

“When do we give them to each other?” You ask then, so excited to see what Satoru thinks, as you snuggle to his side, and he is swiping his card now.

“You’ll get the engagement ring tonight, I want it prominent on your finger for meeting with… them… tomorrow, ugh. But, the bands, not till the ceremony. Thank you guys!” He waves at the team he’d just given so much money and commission too, and you can’t help but smile as he takes your hand in his now. “Let’s eat, brats.”

“Don’t call me a brat, Satoru Gojo. I swear.” Nanami says with a grumble, and Satoru wraps an arm around the man, making him give a disgusted look.

“Aw you love me, buddy don’t lie.” Satoru kisses his cheek, making Nanami shove him off and wipe his cheek.

“Disgusting. Don’t you two laugh, you’ll encourage this behavior.”

“Holy fuck, today was insane.” You and Satoru are now home, and as you speak he cuts you off, picking you up in his arms, and you cling to him.

“You’re almost my bride. Gotta carry you in right.” He walks into his house now, and carries you right in, bridal style, you pull his head down for a kiss, and he moans into your mouth as he shuts the door behind you both. “Mmm, you always taste so yummy.”

“You taste yummy.” He’s easing you down, but he’s pressing your back against the door now, hands on either side of you, head low so that your foreheads are pressed together.

“Fuck, I love you. Have I said it today?”

“No, you mean man.” You pout, batting your lashes, and he pouts now too, thin white brows drawing together, as your hands slide up the hard planes of his strong chest. “You make me so sad when you don’t.”

“Oh no, baby girl… I’ll make this up to you.” He kisses down the side of your face, his big hands taking over your waist, pulling you against his hard body, and you feel yourself react. Your nipples tighten under the thin layer of your dress, which he’s pulling up, bunching it around your thighs.

“Toru!” You cry out then, and he hums, kissing your neck now, biting it with those sharp teeth, sending pain and pleasure in equal amounts through your body. “T-Toru… mmm…”

“How do you want me to make it up, pretty girl?” He whispers against the shell of your ear, tickling and intriguing you like crazy, you cling to that expensive baby blue dress shirt tightly, hands in fists.

“Mmm, I don’t know… maybe on your knees?” He chuckles then, as he kisses you once more, cupping your face now.

“You’re so slutty, you know, just for me.” You giggle, nipping on his lip, earning his moan then. “But… what about one knee for now?”

“One knee… however you wanna lick, I won’t complain.” He’s on one knee then, and you’re smiling down as he looks up at you, but then you falter when you guess his meaning, and you can’t breathe. “Oh! Oh… Oh!”

“You’re thinking slutty, I am thinking romantic. Tsk Tsk.” You’re a blushing mess now, as he takes your hand, kissing it now, and your chest is heaving, when he’s pulling out the little velvet box from his pocket.

“Toru, you don’t have to! I know this isn’t… traditional, and it’s last minute, we don’t have to-”

“Will you shush, brat?” You bite your lip hard, nodding then, and he’s laughing, shaking his head. “Let a man have his moment. Now…” He says your name softly, and you can barely hold it together, Satoru Gojo on one knee was nothing you thought would happen, and he looks too perfect, better than any Disney Prince could. No, this was Satoru Gojo.

“Y-yes!” He snorts now, and you cover your face.

“You suck at this, I didn’t ask yet.”

“I can’t take it, it’s killing me. Oh my god. I’m freaking, Toru.” He kisses your hand again as you struggle to stay still, thighs shifting.

“Take a breath, my knee hurts. I’m old.” You laugh once more, though tears are already burning the back of your eyes. He says your name once more, and you’re damn close to hyperventilating from that alone. “Would you… make me the happiest man, the luckiest man, in this whole fucking world? And be my wife? Be my forever?”

“Satoru oh my god.” You are on your knees now, and he’s blinking back his own emotions.

“You get back up there, fuck you suck at this.” You kiss him though, and he moans, pulling you against him, until you’ve knocked him over, and you’re on top of him on the floor. “You haven’t even seen the ring!”

“I don’t need to. Just need my Toru.” He moans softly, as you kiss each other, and soon you’re straddling him right on the floor of his entry way, and he hisses, pressing his length against you, as he holds your hips up.

“Lemme show you this ring, before you jump on this dick, hmm?”

“I’m so wet…”

“Fuck me.” He sits up now, pulling you against him, grinding on your already soaked little panties, as you kiss him again, tongues and teeth and lips, noses bumping, as you both devour each other, pressing against one another.

“You look so hot on one knee, Professor.” You tease then, and his hands are gripping you even tighter, the box still in one of them. “Okay, let me calm down…”

“Please do, about to get railed before you get a ring, how scandalous.” You just hand him your fingers, shaky as you lean back, and he sits up fully, you’re still straddling him, and his tie is askew, you’re both trembling messes. Satoru then opens the box with a little click, and words are stuck in your throat. “Will you marry me, all officially, my pretty, slutty little brat?” He asks with a laugh, but his hands shake like yours.

The ring…

Fuck it’s beautiful.

It’s a delicate white gold band, with the prettiest marquis diamond in the center, it’s a good size but nowhere near gaudy, elegant and timeless. There are pave stones above and below it, tiny little sparkly diamonds that enhance the marquis, that glitters so prismatically, as pretty as Satoru’s eyes do, well… almost. Nothing really glittered like those.

“Satoru… oh my god, it’s breathtaking. Oh god.” He takes your hand, sliding the ring up there, and it fits perfectly, just a little snug almost.

“I want it snug so you don’t lose it, so I went a little small.” He admits, eyes drinking you in as he looks up at you, your hand in his.

“It’s perfect. It’s so perfect, my goodness. I fucking love it.” You smash your lips on his again, wrapping your arms around his neck, hands enwrapping in his silky hair, as the box drops with a click, and he’s running his hands up your back. “It’s perfect, it’s so perfect. Oh, Toru.”

“I’m so happy you like it, I’d have gone so much bigger, but Nanami talked me down some.” You look at it, as it sparkles under the ceiling lights of Satoru’s home, your home, tear drops pooling on your lashes. “Nanami was singing your praises, I’m jealous all my friends want my girl.”

“Oh stop, they do not! Silly.” You are pulled even further against him, now he’s looking up at you, and you see his smirk. “Well, I only want you if so, even if your friends are really hot.”

“That’s it.” He picks you up again, and throws you over his shoulder, you squeak, smacking and kicking at him, but he just laughs, smacking your ass hard. “I need to teach you a lesson, fiance.”

“Put me down! I hate it up here!” He’s taking you straight to his room, and plops you down on his bed, you bounce just a bit before he’s flipped you around.

“Hands and knees, brat.” His husky tone sends shivers down your spine, as his deft hands untie the little straps of your dress.

“Fuck… I thought you were in a romantic mood?” You murmur, looking back as he slips the dress up off your body, leaving you just in lacy panties. He sucks in a breath then, gripping the fat of your ass with his big hands.

“I can romantically do this.” He smacks you firmly with his palm, not too hard, just enough to have your pussy dripping. “My fiance is so bad today, after all I got her, and she’s still acting up?” He smacks you again.

“I love it all, promise. Mmm!” Satoru smacks you even harder, pulling your hair with his other hand, right at the base of your neck, shooting pleasure to your core, making you soak your panties even more. “I will be good, swear.”

“Mmm, you say that… but I don’t believe you.” He smacks your pussy then, and you jerk, sucking in a breath at the sting.

“Fuck!”

“You need to be a good little wife for me. Maybe I’ll just put babies in you, keep you in line, huh?”

“Misogynistic- ah!”

“What’s that? Can’t hear you.” He smacks you twice more, and fuck it feels so good, your legs shake violently as you’re soaked through, dripping past the sticky fabric to your inner thighs.

“That sounds… good, it sounds good.” You whisper instead, as vivid images fill both of your minds.

“Does it, having all my babies? You can dust the house you know.”

“Dust the house!”

“Mmm, I’ll still have cleaners, but I wanna watch you with a feather duster, some slutty maid outfit. Fuck.” You giggle, but it turns into a yelp as he smacks you on the backs of your thighs.

“Something funny, brat?”

“N-no, no Sir. It sounds… it sounds good. I’ll clean for you.”

“Will you? Hmm.” Satoru slides your panties down your already sore backside, and the cool air hits your throbbing cunt, and you flip then, on your knees, yanking him by his tie, throwing him off.

“Fuck me, please, please. Need you Toru.” You whisper, so pleadingly, and he moans then, as you shakily unbutton his shirt, sliding it down his shoulders, drinking in his beautiful, toned body. You run your fingers down his abdomen, watching him tremble under your touch. “Beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful, you, baby.” Satoru says, as you’re unbuckling his belt, and you slide down his boxers eagerly, moaning softly as you see him, so hard. You flick your tongue on his weeping pink tip, swollen, pearls of precum oozing out of the little hole, tasting him as he groans.

“Yummy.” You whisper, looking up at him now, hand wrapped around the base of his cock, your ring glinting as you stroke him. “Look how pretty it looks, with my hand wrapped-ah!” Satoru has you on top of him again, and you’re straddling his chest, whiplash with how quickly he’s spun you. “Toru!”

“Sit on my face, please… fuck, please.” He begs now, and you’re blushing, so nervous, as he’s pulling at your thighs.

“I wanna suck you!”

“You can do that too. Here.” He flips you around, dragging you by your hips, so that your mouth is aligned to his cock, your hair falling like a soft curtain down the side of your face, and you kiss his tip again, as you feel his breath on you. “Mmmn, want you to drip down my face.”

“But what if you… can’t breathe!? If I sit on you!” You whine, but he just pulls you down further, flicking a tongue up your slit.

“Oh baby if I gotta go, this is how I wanna die.” You brace yourself on the bed, your breasts against his abdomen, as his laugh makes you twitch, while he’s spreading your lips, tongue sliding deeper.

“Toru! Oh my God…” You’re dripping down Satoru’s face, bracing yourself up with one arm, as the other strokes his cock, and you flick your tongue on the underside of the ridge of his cock.

“I want my fiance to cum all over my face. Can you, baby?” He asks, and you nod then, earning his deep chuckle. “Then c’mere.”

He shoves your ass down, so you’re flush on him, and your mouth wraps around his cock, tongue swirling, as you moan. He’s so fucking thick and long, it’s always such a challenge, but you manage to get most of him in, his hands gripping the back of your thighs, and he’s bucking up, hips moving up and down, fucking your face as you whine around him.

Your saliva and drool slip down his length, down his balls, as you scream out your pleasure, and his tongue is working you over, so good, so fast, you can feel the pressure building up in your stomach. Satoru’s flicking the underside of your clit with quick strokes, as your eyes roll back, and you’re stroking him harder, faster, with your little hand.

“Fuck… y’feel so good, your throat baby.” He whispers, as he’s licking up all of your arousal that’s drooling out of your cunt, swirling around your clit, making you see stars.

“Oh god, Toru, oh god!” You’re close now, and he’s smirking against your pussy, you can feel it, as his fingers dig into the plush of your thighs.

“Want you to cum on me, lemme feel you pretty.” He smacks a kiss on there again, and you’re sucking harder now, you can feel his precum coating your mouth, and your tongue slathers over it, earning the softest whimper from Satoru Gojo’s pretty pink lips.

Now Satoru is groaning loudly, his tongue pushing into your hole, his chin pressing into your clit, and you’re just a puddle on his face, as your orgasm hits you like a truck. You scream around his cock, body spasming, as your cum leaks out, down his chin, and his eyes are closed, a smug expression on his face.

“Toru! Fuck!” You helplessly bury your head right next to his cock, as you cum so hard you can’t function, rocking through you in waves, as you’re soaking his face, and he’s lapping it up so hungry, making you feel so good it’s blinding.

“Good girl, you got so wet for me.” He says softly, and you whine out, nails digging into his strong thighs, your ass jerking as he smacks it, nipping it with his teeth playfully. “Niagra.”

“Hush!” You laugh, breathy now, as you try to suck him again, your arms are so weak and wobbly you can barely hold on to him to support yourself.

“Wetter than anyone, sweeter than anyone.” His words against your sensitive clit drive you insane. “Wanna ride me like this?”

“Um… yes? Yes.” He chuckles, and soon you’re straddling him your slick heat pressed against his length, and he’s pulling your by your hips, grinding your twitchy clit and your slit, making him groan, his grip so tight.

“Get up on your knees and put him in, baby.” You nervously do as he commands, as your fiance, professor (former!?), your Toru says. You take him by the base, and sink down on him, head thrown back at the stretch, feeling his thick tip gently press into your hole. “Oh fuck…”

“Toru! M’so weak…” He takes your hips in his hands again, pressing up and pushing you down, and he feels so fucking good, cock dragging your walls, that flutter around him, soaking him down to his thighs. “Ah! Ah… ah!”

“That’s it, good girl. S’good for me…” He urges you on, and you’re rolling your hips tentatively, raising up then sinking down, as one of his hands pulls on your hair, making your back arch. “There, baby, there. Just like that, you’re so good… s’good… mmm…”

His words are turned into breathy cries, as are yours, as you begin to ride him now, and fuck that view is killing him, as he watches your ass bouncing, your eager pussy taking his cock, making it dissappear. You’re pulsing around his cock then, as he presses in that cervix, you’re so tight he has to struggle not to cum, to bust right then and there.

You make him so sensitive it’s embarrassing, you feel so good he always has to mentally stop himself from busting. Sure, he can get hard again, but he wants to watch you cum as much as he can. His hands slide up your little jut of your waist, thumbs pressing into those dimples of your back, as he guides you up and down. And soon you’re doing it all on your own.

And fuck you’re doing good.

“Like this, Toru?” You whisper, rolling your hips then, grinding his tip on that cervix, and Satoru moans, biting his lips, cheeks flushing as you course pleasure through his veins.

“Just like that, baby, perfect.” At his praise you rock again, as you brace one hand on his thigh, bouncing up and down again, screaming out, as he pushes you forward, bringing you in the reverse cowgirl, he’s been fucking dreaming of with you. “Take what you want from me. Cum as much as you want.”

You whimper, fuck those sounds are so sexy, he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to hear them from your pretty lips forever. You balance yourself on the bed, raising your hips as he grips that perfect little ass, and he watches you pump up and down, soaking him so much, it’s dripping wet all over his stomach. You’re burying your head against one of his thighs, screaming out, shaking.

Satoru watches a creamy ring form on the base of his cock now, as you’re snapping your hips up and down, and he feels it, those walls tightening, and he knows you’re close. He slips a thumb in his mouth, pressing it right in that puckered little hole, and you cum right then, twitching thighs squeezing his hips as you do, as you make a mess of you both.

“Mmm, that’s it, cum all over my cock.”

“It’s s’good.. Toru… fuck!” You’re shaking with those aftershocks, as he presses deeper into your tight hole, and you’re so weak, limp. “I suck… c-can’t move.”

He laughs softly, you’re so cute. “Want me to take over?”

“Please, please.”

Satoru will do anything for you, especially pound your perfect little cunt, or any hole you want him in. He taps your ass gently, and you move a bit, as he gets to his knees, and puts a pillow under your pelvis, bringing you up to him better. You look back, your gorgeous eyes glazed over, dilated and cock drunk, fuck Satoru loves you like this, with drool down the side of your face.

He shoves his cock back in your entrance, watching your knuckles go white as you cling to his blankets, and fuck your ass looks so good like this, like some cute little heart he thinks. Got what isn’t adorable about you, from your sweet little whimpers, to your pretty face when it gets so fucked out, when those eyes roll back and your mouth goes slack.

When his cum pours out of your hole, and he thinks how cute you’ll be when you’re pregnant. Fuck no matter the day he had, which was a stressful morning, the love he has eclipses it all. He can be himself with you, he never has to pretend, he can love you so desperate and you match his energy, you are everything.

His hand slips down your spine, slowly brushing, he knows your skin gets so sensitive after sex and he loves to tease you. He gently smacks each ass cheek, covered in his red handprints, before pumping his cock hard in you, tip dragging along those little gummy walls, with clutch so tightly. You’re cumming again, head falling back, hair spreading down your back.

He pulls you by your hair just how you like, fuck he loves knowing your body, what makes you tick, what makes you lose it, he brings you up to your knees, cupping your chin delicately, and your glazed over eyes meet his. Your lips part, as your little hands cling to his wrist, as his hand cups you around your pretty little throat, his thumb feeling your pulse flutter.

“You’re mine, only mine, forever… aren’t you baby?” He asks, and yes, he’s desperate to hear it, to feel it, to know you’ll never leave him. You nod eagerly, tears in your glittery eyes.

Fuck you’re gorgeous crying.

“I’m yours, Toru, only yours.” You whisper, your voice hoarse from screaming out, from taking him down that tight throat. The muscles in your thighs tighten and contract as he presses up deep in your cunt, and your eyes threaten to roll back again. “Love you, love you, love you.”

Fuck.

Those words kill him, he feels his own emotion threaten, slamming his lips down on yours, so you wouldn’t see his tears, but you feel them, as your hips rock, and he wraps an arm around your waist. He finds your little pearl, twitching under his touch, as you soak his fingers now. He watches your ring glitter on your finger as you cling to him, as your head falls back against his chest.

“Toru! Toru!” You’re whining as he squeezes your throat, as he plays your clit, as you’re drenching every goddamn part of him, and fuck he loves it, fuck he loves you.

“Love you, baby, fuck I love you.” You’re crying more, tears running down the apples of your cheeks, all flushed from your exertions, and Satoru gets to do his favorite thing, watch his pretty, smart little law student fall apart.

Fuck this man has your every button pressed, it’s like he is a musician and knows every string, every pressure, every note, as he makes you cum blindingly, while squeezing your throat. You can’t see, it’s all fuzzy like you’re floating, as you silently cry out, losing oxygen and inhaling Satoru, as he becomes anything and everything, the air, the energy, consuming your body.

Exhausted from this orgasm, you weakly fall back, greedily sucking in several breaths when his long fingers let you go. You try to rock your hips again, and he slips out, making you cry out at the emptiness. He kisses down your neck, slipping his cock up and down your folds again, pressing your ass and slipping the tip in, and you moan at the stretch.

“Toru… that’s my…”

“Oh, I know. Fuck. You wanna try, baby?” You tremble, nodding shyly, and he smiles against your neck. “You’re the cutest.”

“Will it hurt?” You ask, and he shakes his head, spreading your ass cheeks further apart now.

“You’ll love it, I can tell. Here, suck on these for me.” He pops two fingers in your mouth now, and you spit all over them, swirling your tongue, as you feel his breath hot on your cheek. “You’re such a good girl.”

“Mmm.” You just whine out again, and then gasp when he’s pressing them inside your little hole, burning and stretching so good.

“Play with your clit for me, mmm, just like that. You know, like when you used to think of me.” He whispers, blowing the hair by your ear, as he pumps his fingers inside you, then his cock is back there, pressing, as you’re both on your knees. He wraps an arm around your waist as he presses inside, and he’s stretching you so much you can hardly take it.

Your hand slips off your clit, only for him to replace it, sliding deeper, kissing down your neck and biting. “Oh my… fuck… you’re too big!”

“Nah, you got this baby. Don’t you?” You are shivering in his grip as he presses in deeper, so deep, as he sinks two fingers in your cunt, and you can’t take it then, you’re a mess, because fuck it’s different but it’s good. “Feel so fucking good, god you’re so tight…”

“You’re… in? All the way?” He snorts, and it’s not reassuring, but he’s sliding out then back in, as he pumps his fingers in your pussy, filling both your holes so good you can barely take it, all the pressure in your tummy about to burst.

“I won’t go all the way this time. I’m half. You’re too tiny there.” You exhale, and feel him tense. “You feel so, so good.”

“Y-you too. I can’t move though.”

“You don’t have to. Just feel it.” Your eyes shut, as you feel the ridges of his cock sliding deeper into your ass, just a bit, making it burn, it feels so intense inside of you as he fingers your pussy, that you’re close, but it feels so different. You’re clinging to his arms that hold you, as he lifts and drags you down his length, and you’re clenching around him.

“Mmm!”

“That’s it, take what you can.” He orders, so husky, and you’re taking more of his thick length in your little hole while his fingers are drenched with how much arousal is pouring out all over his hand. “You doing okay?”

“Mmmhmm!” He exhales in relief, being so gentle with you it touches you.

“Cum for me, lemme feel you tighten down.” he orders then, and you do, cum so hard it’s blinding, as he’s shoved in just a little deeper, moving in shallow thrusts in your ass as you pulse around his fingers.

“Satoru!”

“Mmm… that’s it, fuck! Fuck… baby…” He’s moaning then, holding your hips with both hands after you’ve cum, then he bends you forward, spitting down your ass again, pulling out and swirling his tip in. “Can you take more?”

“No!” He chuckles, as you giggle into the blankets, and he’s slipping back in, stretching your tight ass hole so much, but it brings you close again.

“Can you take it quicker though I’m losing it.” You nod, earning his exhale, as he pumps quicker, still shallow, and he’s tensing behind you.

“Sensitive?” You tease, earning his soft laugh, as you feel his tip thickening in that tight entrance.

“Fuck yes I am, I’ve been all night with you. Every hole feels so good…. Mouth… pussy… ass…”

“Mmm…”

“Play that clit again. I want you to cum.”

“Already came too much.”

“Nah, don’t tap out.” He spreads your cheeks again, fucking deeper, making you grip the messy sheets, back arching, as you press back for more. “Like it there?”

“Yes, yes!” You slink a hand back down, so wet your hand can barely stay, finding a puffy clit so sensitive you cum again, and he pauses, shoving deeper, then sliding almost out, shoving in again, as you adjust, as you crave more of this insane feeling, as you’re shaking, trying to take him. “Toru!”

“Where… can I…”

“You wanna… cum in there!?”

“Fuck yes I do. But i can pull out.” You bite your lip then, peering back, at his pretty face, his brows together, his cheeks pink. He’s a mess just like you. His eyes lock on yours, and he leans forward over you, hovering, pulling your hair hard and earning a moan as you arch your ass up for more. “Tell me where, m’close baby.”

“You can… cum in there.” You’re blushing furiously, and he laughs a bit, before whimpering, fucking faster, and you’re screaming at how amazing he feels, how he’s tearing you apart.

“Fuck, cum again, please, please, baby…” He begs, and you let go, as he’s pressing your tummy in the mattress, and he finds your clit with long fingers, moaning his release in your ear as he brings you with him.

“Satoru!” You scream weakly, as he’s pumping his hot cum inside your hole, something you’ve never felt, coating it entirely, and his cock twitches and pulses as you pour so much cum down his hand, down his bed.

“Oh… my, fuck… baby girl…” He’s slowed now, gently pumping, and it starts to be too much, you’re wincing as the pain hits a bit more. He eases out, and then it really hits, and you’re hissing.

“Ow, ow, ow.” You feel tears prick your eyes, Satoru immediately pulls you to him, kissing you deeply, tongues dripping saliva as he hungrily devours your mouth.

“You okay? Too much?” He asks softly, caressing you and looking carefully into your eyes.

“Way too much. Good but…”

“We don’t have to again, I love your pussy so much. Promise. I thought…”

“No, I liked it. Um… but maybe not unless I get buzzed first. Ow.” He chuckles, easing out from behind you, kissing you again and again, pulling your body to him. “Mmm, I did like it, clearly.”

“I did too, but I don’t want you hurting.”

“No, you were gentle. It’s okay, Toru, just… ow.” He sighs, then stands up, picking you up in his arms.

“Let me run you a bath, yeah Fiance?”

“Yes, Fiance.”

Soon you are in Satoru Gojo’s big tub, he’d run a fragrant bubble bath for you, and he’s caressing your breasts, brushing thumbs down your sensitive nipples and making you cry out. You’re right between his thighs, letting the hot water run over both of you, as you look up at him, sleepily smiling at his perfect face, his white lashes dripping with the water, droplets on his pale skin.

“I can’t believe we’re getting married. It’s so insane. Satoru we’re both so fucking crazy.” He smirks, thumb brushing across your damp cheek.

“You knew I was crazy when you met me, brat. How ya feeling?”

“Much better. It’s throbbing though.” You wiggle a bit, earning the tightening of his hands around your breasts, feeling too good. “My pussy is sore too, no funny business, Sir.”

He snorts. “Pfft, yeah right, you’re the hornball.”

“Me!? You!”

“Mmm, you match my freak.”

“Do I now?” He nods, pecking kisses against your cheek, your temple, as he slides a hand to your tummy.

“Should show up and tell my parents I knocked you up.”

“Satoru!”

“What!? It would be fun.” You lift your hand, with the pretty ring glinting through the suds that fall down your hand. “You nervous?”

“Terrified of them. Like they seemed like… they’d really hurt me.”

He squeezes you tightly, resting his head on your shoulder, shaking his head. “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you, parents included. You’re everything to me, baby, fucking everything.”

“Oh, Satoru…” You turn in his arms then, clinging to him and kissing him so deeply, as you straddle him, sore pussy pressing on his hard length, as he looks up at you with emotions in those azure depths, his mouth in a tight line. “I know you will protect me. You’re my everything.”

“Don’t ever leave me, please baby.” You feel sobs wracking your body then, you shake your head, cupping his face, thumbs brushing over high cheekbones.

“I will never, ever leave you. I swear it. I am sorry I got so afraid, but I will be here no matter what. Because, Satoru, I love you more than anything in the world. In the universe, in any universe. You alone.”

He has tears falling now, and he pulls you down to him, moaning in your mouth, and he’s sliding his cock in you, making you gasp, as you’re so full. “Sorry baby I need you again, please, please.” He begs, whimpering softly, and you nod then, wrapping arms around his neck, sliding down and hissing at the stretch.

“Take me again, Toru. I’m yours.” He smashes his lips on yours, and he’s fucking you slow, hands running down your skin, nails softly raking your flesh as he’s sucking on the peaks of your breasts, shoving up so deep, and you’re cumming around him, as he starts thrusting harder into your sore little pussy.

“Never leave me. Please.” He’s so desperate, and so are you, to reassure him, to be one with him, as he fucks every worry out of your brain, as he fucks you so stupid in that tub, as you fall into those beautiful eyes.

“Never, Toru, never.”

You stand with Satoru Gojo the next day, in front of the insanely huge mansion his parents resided in, holding hands, as his thumb brushes over your knuckles so gently. You are so afraid, so terrified, and even Satoru is tense, but he’s right there, smiling down at you, that sexy lawyer, that sexy professor, that sexy fiance that he is, bright and brilliant.

“We got this, Shnookums. Ya ready?” You smile tremulously at the name, that silly name that makes you feel so loved, so full.

“I’m ready, Satoru. We do this together.” You squeeze his hand, and your eyes widen when the doors open.

Fuck, can you all get through this?

Chapter 13

[kurogxrix]

Drunkenly In Love

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!reader

IN WHICH you and Bucky ‘accidentally’ get married after a drunken game of truth or dare with the avengers.

WC: 5.4k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, nausea, mentions of puke, drunken decisions, suggestive, angst?.

A/N: In this Bucky and Steve are able to get at least a bit drunk with Asgardian liquor.

Your throat burnt as the alcohol downed its way into your system, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to put the bottle down. None of you could in fact, and it started to look less like the avengers and more like a squad of alcoholics. Nevertheless, you all deserved a night of getting completely shitfaced after saving the world once again, and so this was what you all were doing. 

It was relaxing to see the people that usually stayed sober to care for you all, finally give in to the sheer pleasure of the buzz. What was even funnier, was seeing your teammates with ‘high tolerances’ like Bucky and Steve succumb to the venomous call of Thor’s Adgardian liquor. It wasn’t enought you get them as fucked up as the rest of you, considering that the serum made them filter alcohol way faster than it should. However the mere strength of it gave them a good couple of minutes of intoxication, and with teammates like you and Tony around, a couple of minutes were definitely enough to stir some trouble.

Trouble, the nickname that had been given to you by the team. The notorious partner in crime of none other than Iron Man and The Falcon themselves. You loved stirring trouble and pulling harmless pranks on your teammates, whether it’d be adding food colouring to Steve’s shampoo, which definitely left him a little confused and a little pink for the rest of the week. Or like that one time you and Tony had placed glitter bombs around the tower. Except that one wasn’t as funny as you had originally planned, because having the former Black Widow chasing after you was not the definition of fun.

Past your playful exterior, you were always a teammate that your friends relied on. The rest of the avengers loved you like you were their own sibling, and you’d found sisterhood in the presence of Wanda and Nat. They saw past your flaws and the lack of control that you had with your own powers when you first joined the team, and instead helped you with and through those obstacles like a real family should. 

It took you a while to break through Bucky’s tough exterior, but you didn’t expect any less from the Ex Hydra soldier that was constantly haunted by the memories of what he’d done. Even if none of it was his fault, as you’d remind him constantly, you knew that it was always hard for him to accept when every time he’d close his eyes he was flashed with the images of his hands covered in blood, nobody else’s but his. 

Your outgoing personality also made it very hard to connect with him, because he felt that someone with so much potential of making other friends than ones as messed up in the head as him should go on and do so, but you had never given up. And you were glad that you hadn’t, because over the years, you’d grown fond of seeing that warm smile lift upon his lips at the very rare occasions. 

-

Everything had started out as a shitty game of truth or dare, truly. After Bruce had chosen truth once too many times and Thor kept on complaining that his dares were too ‘serene’, your true mastermind had truly come to show. 

“Come closer dude, we literally can’t see you,” you called out to Thor, throwing an arm over his shoulders to bring him closer to you as you both sat on the luxurious yet oddly long sofa in the Stark Tower. Your front camera was on, an out-of-frame picture of yours and Thor’s forehead being snapped as your hand trembled too much, and the beefy blond was far too impatient for you to retake. 

You’d posted a story on the Avengers instagram account with the encouragement of your peers, and of course the worrying of a typsy Steve. It was probably the worst idea that you could have come up with, because after solely a couple minutes of posting a ‘send us dares’ story, your phones began to blow with notifications. 

It took you all a solid minute to reassemble everyone together to start reading the messages, and you ignored the far too crude ones as you moved to the funny ones. Cue the loud ringing of Sam and Thor’s laughter combined and minutes later, you’d all decided on a couple of ones for the night. 

I’d started off with things such as vision, who he was solely participating in because everyone was borderline pressuring him 

It’d started off with things such as a very sober vision, who was solely participating because everyone was borderline pressuring him due to his lack of ability when it came to being influenced by alcohol, give the AI a break. He had been dared to recreate the spaghetti scene from ‘Lady and The Tramp’ with Clint. Needless to say that they both broke apart the spaghetti centimetres apart, unable to stop the roaring of laughter from raising up their throats. 

Next thing you know is that Wanda was wrapped in toilet paper like a damned mummy, and Tony revealed his inner Magic Mike. But the man used to be a legitimate whore, so it was nothing surprising really. You all had realised somewhere along the night that you’d been acting a little too much like children considering your ages, and instead of switching back to your professional selves, you decided to empty another bottle or two for the night. 

What you hadn’t expected for the night however, was the bold and surprising request of ‘Marry the person to your left’ that was now sitting in your inbox. It sounded so stupidly thought of that you could practically tell that it was coming from a kid, but something inside of you couldn’t care less about the future repercussions of going further on with the dare. 

In fact, you felt your drunken heart accelerating its pace when you were met with the sight of the one and only Bucky Barnes sitting to your left. It did not help that you had been attracted to the man for what seemed like 2 years now, yet you hardly acted on those feelings. It was easier to pretend like your admiration towards the super soldier was nonexistent rather than face his rejection. The rejection that you thought he’d give you if you ever confessed, but if only you knew. 

If only you knew how many nights he’d been spending up rethinking the amount of interactions he could’ve sparked with you if he hadn’t been so hesitant. If only you knew how much Bucky yearned to confront his own self about his self deprecating issues, but deep down he knew that he was right. He knew that a person as charismatic and chaotic as you did not deserve to be chained to a person as grumpy and boring as him. 

You considered shying away when the whole team turned to you asking what your dare was, but it’d be a direct giveaway of your feelings towards the brunette once they’d hear what your dare was. Instead you’d feigned the shock that you had initially felt before the warmness of your imagination seeped in, the thoughts of you being married to Bucky making your brain short circuit. 

“Woahhh and would you look at that,” the lack of surprise in your voice was masked by the slur of your words because of how much you’d drank, and you were glad that everybody else had ingurgitated just as much as you because their faces showed no sign of suspicion as they waited for you to turn your phone around. The first person that you had shown it to was whoever was to your right, and that just happened to be Sam and Scott. 

The duo squealed like little girls at the sight of the dare, but the Falcon’s eyes widened comically as he eyed who exactly was at your left. He’d snatched your phone instantly to show the others, and no matter how much you protested for him to hand it back to you, Sam was like an annoying big brother to you. There was no way you’d be getting it back unless you forcedly found a way to. 

The three other girls in the tower had their hands over their mouths as they read the exact words that this random person had sent you, and Wanda looked more excited than you were. You’d beg her to exchange dares with her if it wasn’t for the bulky super soldier’s family name being on the line, and you had no issue with becoming Mrs.Barnes.

Steve and Bucky on their sides sat there confused as everyone kept on basking Bucky some shocked and amazed looks, which was starting to irritate him greatly because everybody was taking so much time with the phone and nobody was even voicing out what the damned dare was. His vexation had lasted for minutes until the phone had been personally placed in his hands by no other than Sam himself. 

Bucky placed the phone between himself and Steve as their quick eyes skimmed over the text. His only physical reaction to the words was the raise of his eyebrows, but fuck was his heart stammering against his rib cage at a faster pace than the speed at which Steve ran his morning rounds. His reaction had you internally pausing all other thoughts as you imagined that he was slightly disgusted at the idea. 

You knew that he had a dream of domesticity back in the 40’s, but you knew that no man would like to be forced into a marriage with a woman that they didn’t want to marry. And although Bucky admired you in much more than a platonic way, that you didn’t know of yet, he hadn’t necessarily imagined himself being married to you. He was still figuring out how to ask you out without pussing out at the last minute, which had happened to him about 5 times now. Needless to say that Sam had made fun of him all five times. 

He was internally turmoiled, and if not for the alcohol running thick in his system, he’d say no. He’d refuse and say that you deserved better than him and some shitty ceremony based on some even shittier dare. But he couldn’t physically say it now, not when his better judgement was affected and the alcohol let the side that was fond of you control him. 

You were about to open your mouth to tell him that it was okay, that he could decline or worse, you could find another partner. Even if you didn’t want to marry anyone else than him, even less for a game. Yet he cut you off with a deep laugh that startled everyone in the room, it was not sardonic but rather held an amusing tone to it. 

Bucky shook his head as he stood up to look at you, grasping your hands in his bigger ones like some romance movie sap. The Cheshire grin on his face made you want to melt into putty in his embrace, and his stupidly plain words had you doubling back. 

“So…what time’s the wedding?” 

-

“Hurry up, you’re gonna be late to your own wedding!” the teasing sound of Wanda’s voice called out to you, accent thick in her tone. The guys had already rushed your soon-to-be groom into Tony’s room to get him ready, much to the billionaire’s dismay. You couldn’t help but laugh your entire way towards the room, you face up towards the ceiling as you giggled like a mad woman.

Wanda dragged you by the arm and into Nat’s room, who was nose deep inside her wardrobe in search of an appropriate dress for your ‘wedding’. You’d be searching through Pepper's closet given that she had a wider selection, but you couldn’t go there given that the boys were dressing Bucky up in Tony and Pepper’s shared room. 

“What about this one? Or- No, this one!” you snapped your head towards the sound of Wanda’s voice, only to catch her with two dresses in hands. Except these two dresses had little to nothing to do with a wedding, yet alone being the bride to that wedding, but this was Nat’s wardrobe after all. The black Maxi dress in her hands was the definition of the former Black Widow’s wardrobe, tight, dark and sexy if anything. 

You didn’t have much say in the decision because soon enough the two girls were on you, shoving your limbs and whatnot through the holes of the dress to drape it over you. You couldn’t lie when you said that it did fit you well, the stretchy fabric of the dress squeezing and moulding into your body in every way that it should. The dress finished by your ankles, accompanied by spaghetti straps and a pair of pretty heels that had been shoved in your hands for you to slip on. 

Given that the dress did in fact go braless, you did have a little worry about how the chilly air outside would mix with that, but you were far too gone to even care. With some final touches and a brush of makeup, you were finally ready to meet your to-be husband. 

As a kid you’d always imagine your wedding scene to be much more emotional than this. You’d imagine yourself in some stupid movie scene where you’d cry at the first sight of your husband, but now the only tears you were holding back were the ones you were getting from laughing so much. Pepper had to slap you on the back to straighten up after you’d crumpled down from laughter, and you had yet to even meet up with Bucky. 

You could hear the loud and deep voices of the other men past the long hallway that you were currently walking in, and you mentally cursed Tony for being so rich and having such a big Tower because hell were your feet already hurting in those heels.

“Here comes the bride!” The sudden entrance of Clint’s excited voice made your eyes snap upwards, and you instantly realised that you had finally left the never ending hallway. All eyes were on you, but instead of judging your odd wedding outfit, you were relieved to hear their cheers. You couldn’t even tell why you’d gotten anxious about your team being unaccepting of your fit when that odd dare was the genesis of this whole moment. 

Bucky stood out in his black suit amongst the other ‘underdressed’ avengers, and when your eyes met with the familiar blue ones amongst all the others, suddenly all you could focus on was him. Not on your friends around you half heartedly arguing about whether you guys looked like the Addams couple or Lydia Deetz and Beetlejuice because of your attire. In the most adoring way possible, of course. 

Your gaze never left his accept when his eyes cast down to scan your outfit, and you could’ve sworn that there was even more adoration swirling in his baby blue iris when they went back up to meet with yours again. This was at last a little bit how you had expected your wedding to go as when you were a kid, all until…

The loud laughter erupting out of your throats rebounded against the tower’s walls, making you both sound way louder than you actually were. The rest of your friends didn’t even bother with the both of you, just talking over your laughter as you doubled over at how stupid this whole situation was. Yet again you couldn’t take anything seriously when you were sober, now imagine yourself when a drop of alcohol entered your system. 

The sound of Bucky’s laughter was something that you didn’t know you needed today, but fuck did it sound like heaven. You wanted him to keep on laughing like this forever, for that wide smile on his face to stay instead of that usual scowl he wore on his face. You wanted Bucky to continue being so happy and carefree like this, you wanted to keep on making Bucky so happy like this. 

Nevertheless your little moment was shortly interrupted by Wanda yet again grasping onto your arm, this time with a little more pressure as Happy’s impatient honking could be heard all the way from up here in the Tower. As you left, Bucky couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to your retreating form. Before Steve came to shake his shoulders playfully from the back, muttering something that you couldn’t hear or even care about from where you were, but it didn’t fail to make heat creep up Bucky’s neck. 

-

The ride in Stark’s limousine was just as fun as the rest of the night itself, except that now they were popping a bottle of champagne to honorate your soon to be ‘wedding’. Honestly you had up to zero idea as to how all of your stomachs could support so much liquids in one night, but you were 100% sure that Happy had snuck in sparkling juice inside the limousine fridge because he was starting to get a little worried. The sight of Scott literally gagging while trying to keep everything down his throat nearly made you puke everything that you’d drank throughout the night, but you forced your glance away from the man to avoid any accidents. 

The poor bruce looked drunkenly traumatised as Tony conducted a little karaoke at the back of his limousine, which was the least surprising for the billionaire. You got a good laugh once more out of the ride, which was heading towards somewhere for you both to sign the register and finally make you Mrs.Barnes. Oh and how many times had you dreamt of this moment before, yet it didn’t happen like this in your fantasy.

The car finally stopping signed a peace treaty for the poor nauseous scott, and he could finally breathe again without feeling like his stomach was flipping inside out. You all could barely even make it out of the car without stumbling your ways out. Fuck and how did you all even manage to get this fucked up? You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d gotten so drunk that you could barely even stand up straight, but it was most probably during your college years.

Being part of the troupe that saves the world from the devil's grip was not an easy job. There'd be days where you’d be gone for weeks on nothing else but a simple mission, and you couldn’t even guarantee that you’d even return as a whole from the other ones. So while you could, you’d enjoy your holidays and be free, fuck if it meant playing some stupidly childish game of drunken truth or dare. 

All eyes were of you guys from the moment you’d stepped out of the limousine and into the courthouse. Of course Tony hadn’t reserved a normal courtroom in some random courthouse, no instead he’d reserved you the most pristine and elegant one you’d ever seen. The marble stairs and luxurious railings left you speechless, but yet you couldn’t expect little if it was coming from one and only Iron Man. 

A civil ceremony wasn’t what the little you had envisioned for her big day, but her dreams were being forgotten today because you were still young and you could always have a traditional wedding ceremony afterwards if this one didn’t satisfy you anyways. 

You received a bunch of odd looks from whoever was working at the courthouse as you made way into the room. Either from the fact that you were dressed the furthest away from what a bride usually looks like, or from the amount of noise that your team was making. The officiant clearly looked like he wanted to tell you to rethink this, perhaps when you were sober and stable enough to actually think. Though Tony had paid him a stack of cash high enough for him to keep quiet, but his eyes were speaking for himself. 

“Look at my children, they’re growing up so fast!” Same wiped a fake tear on his face as he tried to conceal his laughter as sobs. Scott besides him was wiping tears too, though his didn’t quite seem fake…

Like any wedding ceremony, you’d all taken some corny pictures that you could laugh at while sitting by a campfire in a couple of years. You’d decided that the bride would take pictures with the groomsmen and the groom would take pictures with the bridesmaids, because this was no ordinary wedding, so you might as well make it laugh worthy. One of your matching pictures had you standing perched on both of Steve’s and Scott’s shoulders as they both held onto your ankles in case you happened to slip back. The rest of the boys you considered family posed in the most boyish yet stupidly cute pose as the flash blinded the whole of you. 

In your husband’s photos, Bucky was being suspended up in the air as some red aura kind of magic enveloped him. Queue an annoyed looking Pepper and Natasha standing besides Wanda as she lifted the man up in the air, their arms crossed across their chests as they gave Bucky an unimpressed look. The annoyance was all pretend, considering that after the camera’s click went off, they all rekindled their cheerful selves. 

“You guys need to end the night with a kiss, there’s no bride or groom going back home right now before you guys smooch!” Wanda slurred, her cheeks pink from the heat of the alcohol. Vision had to keep an arm around her waist at all times in case she fell over, and the AI sighed at everyone’s stupidity. At this point you were sure that everyone in the courtroom other than you guys was starting to get irritated with the noise so you decided to cut this short and just sign the damn papers already.

Except that now everyone was pressing on to what Wanda had said, and your nerves were running thick. You wanted to with no doubt, kiss the extremely handsome super soldier that you were somewhat about to marry, but you feared that you’d be going too far. Sure this whole thing was a whole joke, so what if he’d agree for the sake of the joke as well? You could always dream and delude yourself about the fact that he’d actually accepted the dare because he liked you just like you did him but you’d never know until you asked. 

Instead, you stayed quiet and tried to ignore the high pitched yelling coming from your teammates as the officiant passed you the pen. Your hand shook as you stared at the paper before you, and for a second you had to remind yourself that none of this was real. And so finally, you bent over to sign the papers that laid on a strangely low table.

Natasha’s teasing wolf whistle made your nerves dissipate and a goofy smile crawl up your face as she called you out for your position, or rather the way that your dress was tightening further with the position. Your hands were swift as you worked on the signature, little to no care for the lines of text that you were supposed to consider before officially tying yourself to the man that would also sign the same paper. 

You watched with a grin as Bucky approached the table to do the same, teasingly getting into the same position as you previously were to hear the loud screeching cheers of your teammates. You watched as he signed the paper off with the flick of his wrist, a hidden elegance in the way he moved being a surprise turn on for you. 

Bucky had not even had time to barely stand back up straight again before you had both started getting bombarded with a ‘kiss to seal the deal’ request from your friends, and you did agree that it’d only make sense to kiss your other half on your wedding day. You didn’t want to make it seem like you were all too eager to smooch the former Winter Soldier, although on the inside you were shaking with anticipation. 

His touch took you off guard as you felt time stop as his large palm slotted itself in the crevice of your back, the warmth of his hand seeping through the dress. You felt as he pulled you closer to him with that hand, but you couldn’t look elsewhere than his eyes. You got the moto to finally close your eyes instead of staring at him like some creep as you felt his other palm closing on your cheek. Your palms came to rest on his chest as he dipped you like in those cheesy rom coms from the 40’s, and you guessed that was his inspiration. 

The kiss was much needed, you felt like it’d cut through some of the tension that you’d both built throughout the past months. Bucky’s nose flashed against yours as he kissed you with need, near desperation. His lips slotted over yours perfectly, the slight dip of his head making you go feral as he reached deeper like he was trying to devour you whole. 

Asif you and your friends couldn’t get any louder, their yelling had yet ceased to stop. Truly a sight for the people who knew the Avengers as the universe’s saviour. The end of the night had left a usually happy and unusually smiling Bucky, and not to forget, the whole group of tipsy Avengers in the back. 

The initial energy that you all had at the start of the day had eventually worn out by the time you were making your way back to the car. It didn’t mean that the ride back was silent though, you’d all participated in a round of karaoke before sitting down and finally for the first time this entire night, calmly talking like normal people. 

-

Waking up with a pounding headache and no water in sight wasn’t necessarily the best way to wake up, but that’s how Bucky’s morning was going anyway. The plush mattress felt uncomfortable to him, and Bucky wondered what he was even doing on a bed considering he’d gotten used to sleeping on the floor ever since his Soldat days. His eyes held a grogginess that irritated him, in fact everything from the scratchy material of the cotton sheets to his headache was annoying him, and he could blame nothing else but the trace of alcohol that he knew he’d drunk yesterday night. 

It was obvious that he was under the influence yesterday and had gotten back home just as faded, because he could feel the fabric of a suit on his body as his hands roamed freely. His pants were still fastened on with the tight belt, which he’d removed with a content sigh. Bucky’s fingers rubbed at his eyes until he got most of the sleepiness out of them, but his muscles suddenly froze as the sound of shuffling beside him. 

His heart stopped for a second, before resuming its pounding just 3x the original speed. He couldn’t remember much of yesterday, and surely not that he’d brought someone back home with him. He was relieved at the memory of his suit still very much on him, the tight belt telling him that it hadn’t been removed ever since he’d put it on him. He’d love to beat himself at the thought of having to pick up his courage to turn around and meet whoever was in his bed, given that a super soldier like him had gone through scarier scenarios.

His breath caught stuck in his throat as he turned around to be met with the sight of…you? It felt like the planet earth had stopped orbiting for a second as he felt ten times more dizzy than he’d felt at his wake. His confusion ran thick as he watched you comfortably snoozing off in his bed. His bed? Bucky thought about it again, there was no way that he wasn’t currently in the Stark Tower, and he could tell that the room looked nothing like his despite the little lighting that he had to observe his surroundings. 

He was in your room, on your bed. How he’d arrive here was a mystery, but that was something to decipher later on. Bucky’s eyes gazed over your sleeping form, from the way your cheeks were adorably squished against your pillow with your hands tucked under them. His eyes trailed down towards your outfit, and he wanted to yell at himself for the way that he ogled a little too long at the sight of the thin, tight fabric resting against your chest. The dress was all out of place because of how much you’d move in your sleep, it looked like it would completely expose your breast if you moved just a little more. 

Bucky felt much guilt coursing through his veins as he continued to eye you like some crude teenage boy, yet he couldn’t get himself to stop. He could’ve sworn that he had to hold himself back from drooling at the sight of your long dress all scrunched up around your hips, exposing a bit of your legs to him. The sheer black fabric left much to the imagination as it wrapped perfectly around your thighs, that were perfectly plumped out for him in the fetal position that you slept in. 

He had to physically run a hand down his face to distract the flow of blood reaching the unconventional spot right now, and instead tried to focus on finding out how he’d end up here. Sure he had no problems with sharing a bed with you, matter of fact he’d dreamt of it for months now ever since he’d developed a ‘crush’ on you as Steve would annoy him with. Yet, he felt that it was wrong as he could clearly smell the pungent smell of liquor on the both of you. 

He grunted as he sat up, cracking his back like the old man that he was. Bucky checked up on you once more to find you peacefully sleeping the morning away, probably due to the amount that you drank yesterday, yet he didn’t care because it looked like you were having the best sleep of your life. As he fumbled with something along your bedside table, Bucky’s hand accidently came to crumble the side of a piece of paper.

Cursing to himself, he grabbed the sheet to try and smooth it out before you killed him for messing with your shit. Though he cared little for what that paper was, the words in bold ‘Marriage’ that he’d caught in the corner of his eye had surprised him, so he allowed himself to peek a little into your private life. A sudden new fear coursed through his body as he looked back at you for another second. Were you married and living a double life? Fuck, now he felt even more shitty as he laid on a bed with you, what would your husband think of all of this? Was your husband a shitty guy? Was that why you’d never mentioned him? 

All sorts of questions ran through his head, but not once had he berated or blamed you in his head. He knew that you were nothing more than loyal, so it confused him even more as to how wedding papers were just casually laying there on the table. However, as he opened the sheet of paper to pry into your life, his heart stopped at the clear handwriting that could belong to nobody else than him. His signature and name needed no explanation or proof, they were all clearly written by him. 

Bucky’s heart picked up the pace once more, only this time he felt like he was going to have a panic attack like he did after reliving his horrors through nightmares. He could barely remember shit of what had happened last night, and next thing he knows, he’s waking up next to the woman he fancies and apparently they’re married? 

He fumbled with the paper in a stressed out attempt at scampering, he needed answers, and if nobody had them then he surely knew that the multiple cameras around the Tower had them. He needed to talk to Steve about this mess, and as he prepared to stand up, he froze at the sound of your yawn. He laid there unmoving for a solid minute, wishing that you’d solely changed positions and went back to sleep. After a whole minute of silence, Bucky’s shoulders dropped in relief, all until-

“Bucky…?”

-

let’s pretend like the avengers are all united, happy and alive lmao:)

[rookiesbookies]

Now Im not saying im mega horny for Soap

But Neil Ellice deserves sexiest man of the year

And I know John ‘Soap’ MacTavish is a fucking stallion. He walks like its heavy.

Like the way I am basically a germaphobe when it comes to penis - my partner and I actively work to keep everything clean

But like I could be defiled by his sweaty, hairy Scottish dick and say thank you. Maybe even beg for more.

Im sure as sure as I am of the sun, moon, and stars that it is thick. Im talking about THICK. Im talking about 6.5 inches and a delicious stretch he knows to prepare people for. The kind to make you ask “who horse is that?”

His sweet leaky pink tip is the kind to drool and beg for affection from you when you see it.

His coarse dark hair is pretty thick around the base but he does have a decent happy trail. The kind that just create that delicate friction that just adds the smallest bit more to the overall experience.

I’d lick his abs, kiss his pecs, and nibble his biceps.

No full on bites. I dont want to hurt him.

Dont get me started on Captain MacTavish.

*does little cross over my chest with my hands*

The way his beefy muscles are glazed over with that soft layer of fat?

His thick, hairy body? Deep gravely voice? His accent?

FOLD👏ME👏PLEASE👏

[maviscat123]

Anatomy II

By: JohnBoy

Someone was pounding on the door...

Big Jim Reese woke up with a snort; he'd been having a late afternoon nap on the cot in his office. His "office" was actually a small trailer, parked amongst some trees near the back of the construction site.

Jim sat up groggily -- he coughed and slowly ran a large, beefy hand over the stubble on his shaved head. The pounding came again, more urgent this time.

"Hey, Mr. Reese! You in there?" It sounded like a young guy.

"Yeah, yeah," he spoke in his deep baritone, "hold on a sec." The huge black man got up and opened the door.

It was Ken, the son of the crane-operator. He was tall and rather well-built, about 20 or so, sandy blond and blue-eyed, and with a tuft of bristly beard on the end of his chin.

Jim had noticed (on the four or five other occasions that he'd met him) that he always acted a bit shy and nervous around him. Probably, he guessed, because he was intimidated by his size: Jim was a half-foot taller than him, and probably out- weighed the kid by at least 130 pounds (a good deal of it was solid muscle, too).

"Hey Kenny, what're you doin' here?"

"Is-- is my Dad here?"

"Nope, he's gone home already." Jim yawned; he thought the young man looked even more nervous than usual. "Uh, everything okay?"

Ken glanced over his shoulder. "The cops are after me, man."

"What?" Jim looked towards the street; he could see a police cruiser pulling up in front of the site. He'd heard that this boy had been in trouble with the law in the past: B&E, some minor theft...

"I need a place to hide. Please, you gotta let me in!"

Jim sighed. He wanted nothing to do with this kid's problems. But an idea was starting to form in his head... and before he even realized it, he said, "Okay, get in." Ken was peeking out through the blinds, watching the cop. Jim had not asked him what kind of trouble he was in this time, and the kid hadn't told him...

"What's he doing?" Jim asked.

"He's just talking to one of the workers. Wait-- shit, the guy's pointing this way!"

Kenny looked around the trailer. "Fuck, if I get caught this time, I'm going to jail for sure. You can't let him find me!"

"If he wants to look in here, I don't think I can really stop him."

"But... there's no place to hide in here! What am I gonna do?"

"Well," he said slowly, trying to sound nonchalant, "I got a suggestion."

"What??"

"How much you weigh, Kenny?"

"Wha--? Uh, about 190, I guess. Why?"

Jim tugged thoughtfully at his wiry, dark goatee. This young man was a fair bit bigger than the doctor had been. He wondered, could he do it?

"You can hide... in here." Jim pointed to his stomach.

"Huh?"

"I could swallow you."

Ken just stared at him.

Jim went on, "Just for awhile. I could swallow you whole and hide you inside my belly, just 'til the cop leaves. Don't worry, you'll be safe. If he comes up here lookin' for you, well... there's no way he'd find ya. Then when he's gone, I'll let you out."

Ken continued to stare at him.

"Well? What do you think?"

"Oh come on... this is a joke, right?"

"No, I mean it. I'm serious."

"You're crazy, Mr. Reese. You can't swallow a whole person. It's-- it's frickin' impossible!!"

"Well, yeah, for most people. But I'm different; there's somethin' special about my anatomy that lets me do it. Big mouth, big throat, big stomach... just ask my doctor. Trust me, I can do it." Jim knew this might not be completely true... after all, when he'd done it before (three days earlier), Doctor Moffat had given him some kind of injection as well. Whether he could do it now, without the drug, remained to be seen.

Ken still seemed unconvinced. He looked out the window again, anxiously.

"Well, we're runnin' outta time, son," Jim said, "Do you wanna try it or not?"

"But... you'll let me back out, right?"

"Yeah, sure, of course I will."

The kid shrugged. "What the hell, I guess I got no choice. Okay."

"Damn right!" Jim tried to suppress his excitement. Ever since the doctor's appointment, he'd been thinking of little else but swallowing someone again -- and now he had his chance!! Of course he intended to release the boy afterwards...

but he thought, maybe he could try to keep him inside for awhile? Say, ten minutes or so? Would he survive in there that long??

"Er, what should I do...?"

The big man went to the tiny fridge and pulled out a stick of butter. "Take off all yer clothes and rub this on you."

Ken's face screwed up. "What are you gonna do, fry me up first?"

"It's to make you slide down easy. Come on. And take that earring off, too." Jim looked through the blinds. "You better hurry up, son. I think the cop is comin' this way," he lied.

Kenny started to undress. Jim took off his own shirt, undid the button on his jeans, and unzipped his fly part-way. He saw Ken looking at him as he did this, and said, "Gotta make room for ya." He patted his belly. "You're a big boy."

The young man was completely nude now. After hesitating for a moment, he picked up the stick of butter and began to rub it over his chest. "It's cold!"

"Don't worry, you'll get nice and warmed up once you're inside me." Jim realized that he was starting to salivate. His stomach began to grumble and groan in anticipation, and he wondered if Kenny could hear it...

After the boy had buttered himself up, Jim ordered him to lie down on the cot, on his back. He dropped to his knees heavily at the foot of the cot and grabbed him firmly by the ankles, lifting his feet up. He hoped the hunger in his face wasn't too obvious. Now Jim could see a hint of fear in Ken's expression, and realized he'd have to work fast and get it done with before he changed his mind. (And just in case the policeman came around, too!)

He said in a reassuring tone, "It's okay, kid. I promise it won't hurt a bit. I've done this before." He grinned. Then he crouched down and opened his mouth very, very wide...

"Shit, man," Ken mumbled.

With a grunt, Jim quickly thrust both feet into his mouth and part-way down his throat -- Ken giggled despite his fear, squirming around as if he was being tickled. Jim grasped his legs more tightly and pushed again, taking him in almost to the knees with a thick, slurping sound.

"Holy cow, I can't believe you're doing that!" the boy said in amazement. "Hey, wait, I just thought of something... will I even be able to breathe in there?"

Jim tried to nod (which wasn't easy), and gulped again, taking his legs in even further. He couldn't believe how fantastic this felt... the kid was delicious! He'd be moaning with pleasure if his throat hadn't been so full. He wished he could slow down and enjoy every inch of Kenny's smooth, firm, sweet flesh as it slipped inside him, but there wasn't enough time -- besides, he was too ravenous!

Ken's face turned pale as he watched the huge man's mouth working to take him in, gobbling him up, the lips stretching around his hips and ass now. "Goddamn..." he whispered.

Jim's eyes were starting to roll over white with the effort. He continued to swallow, while at the same time holding Ken by his upper arms and shoving him in. Then he guided his hands into his mouth, gaping even wider to engulf the boy's muscular torso and arms. He could feel his legs starting to fold up inside his belly.

"Uhh, Mr. Reese?"

He ignored him. He couldn't believe the power of his throat muscles; it seemed they were working on auto-pilot, flexing and gulping almost on their own, practically sucking the kid down his gullet... it felt so natural. He realized there was no question now as to whether or not he needed drugs to do this.

But the most difficult part was coming: Kenny's wide shoulders...

Ken seemed to be having a bit of trouble breathing with the pressure on his chest. His eyes were starting to bug out, and there was an incredulous expression on his face; Jim imagined that he must've looked quite bizarre right now, with his mouth stetched out to grotesque proportions.

This was starting to get harder, and the sensation of fullness was unbelievable. Perhaps the boy was too big? Had he bitten off more than he could chew, so to speak?

The young man blurted, "I-- I'm not sure about this anymore. Wait..." He began to struggle feebly, but his arms were pinned to his sides, inside Jim's throat.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the trailer door. A voice called out, "Anyone in there?"

Jim's heart lunged. Shit, it was the cop! He looked Ken in the face, wondering what his reaction would be. Would he scream for help??

A moment of silence passed... then Ken seemed to make his decision: "Uh," he cleared his throat, and tried to talk in a deeper voice, "Yes, officer? I mean, who is it?"

Jim would've smiled if he could. He continued to swallow -- but now it felt like the kid was almost stuck!

"Jim Reese? I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind."

"Uhh... okay, er, gimme a minute," Ken said.

Jim reached out, clamped onto Ken's shoulders and began forcefully shoving him in with all his strength, swallowing hard.

The door handle rattled. "Please open up, it's the police."

"Just-- just let me get some pants on! Oh, Christ..." Kenny gasped.

Now only his head still protruded from the man's mouth. Jim pushed on the crown of his head with both hands, and he continued to slide in... he could feel the kid's little beard scraping against the roof of his mouth.

In a muffled voice, he heard him say, "Jeez, it smells like hamburgers in here..."

And then he closed his mouth completely over him and gulped hugely. He felt the boy going all the way down, filling his gut...

The cop was knocking again, impatiently. "Sir, will you open the door??"

Jim was gasping for air. "Yeah, yeah," he managed to say. He could feel Ken squirming around inside him -- it seemed like he was trying to turn around. He gulped down several large mouthfuls of air so the kid could breathe. Then he got up with a loud grunt, steadying himself against the wall. The weight in his gut was incredible; he was having some difficulty just standing up!

He quickly kicked Ken's clothes and shoes under the cot, then unlocked the door.

The police officer looking up at him was on the short side, but quite burly. He had a thick, brown, brush-like moustache and a buzzcut. He was carrying his cap under one arm.

Almost immediately, his eyes went to Jim's enormous, round globe of a belly, and his jaw dropped slightly. But then he tried to compose himself and looked Jim in the face, saying in a firm voice, "Is there a problem?"

"Uh, no-- sorry I took so long, officer. I was... I had to put some clothes on." Jim tried to laugh.

The cop looked at him suspiciously. "I thought I heard someone else in here."

"Nope, just me. I was having a little snooze."

"Well... I'm Officer Banks. May I come in? I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Oh, sure." Jim backed up to allow the guy to enter.

"So you're the foreman on this site, Mr. Reese?" The cop couldn't seem to help himself; he kept glancing down at Jim's gut. Jim was nervous... for some reason, Ken was struggling a bit inside him, and he hoped it wouldn't be visible from the outside. Was the boy uncomfortable?

"Yes."

The policeman looked slowly around the interior of the trailer. He said, "You know a young man named Kenneth Delaney?"

"Yeah, I think so. He's one of the employees' kids."

"Have you seen him today?"

Jim's stomach gurgled audibly. "Ah, no. Haven't seen him."

"You sure? One of your workmen seems to think he came up here. He's in a bit of trouble, I'm afraid."

"Sorry, I was sleeping. I didn't see anyone." From Jim's belly came a small moan; Jim thumped a hand to his gut and uttered a short, loud burp. "Ooof... 'scuse me, officer!"

Banks couldn't seem to contain himself any longer -- chuckling, he poked Jim in the belly and said, "I'm sorry, but... man! That is some huge gut you've got there, buddy." He shook his head. "You got a horse in there, or what?"

"Aw, no, it's just fat. And... I had a big lunch today, too." Jim smiled broadly.

"Never seen anything like that. Damn! Sorry, I hope I haven't embarassed you."

"That's alright, I know I could stand to lose 'bout 200 pounds. So, umm... what's the boy done?"

"I can't really tell you that." The cop took another quick look around the trailer. "Well, you just keep an eye out for him, okay?"

"Okay, sure thing."

"Thanks for your time. You take care, sir." He left.

Jim could feel a massive belch building up, trying to escape. He sat down on the cot with a groan. Ken was wriggling around more now, and he could hear him trying to say something -- obviously, he wanted to be released.

Now that the policeman was gone Jim could relax, and really savour the experience of having a whole, live person inside his stomach. It felt great, even better than with the doctor... he'd never had such an enjoyable and satisfying meal in his life!

And now he was starting to realize something else: he didn't want to let the boy back out after all. He knew he had to; he'd surely suffocate in there before long and besides, he thought he could feel his digestive juices starting to flow. Just awhile longer, he thought...

The kid moaned again from inside his gut. His struggles seemed to be weakening.

Mm-mmm... he'd sure been a tasty morsel. He felt so full... and yet he thought that he could probably take someone even a little bigger than Kenny, next time. Jim rubbed his belly, opened his mouth wide and heaved out a huge, long, thun- derous belch. He was about to gulp down some fresh air for the boy, but then stopped himself.

With a sigh, he stretched out onto his back instead. I guess this was my plan all along, he thought to himself. Wasn't it? He didn't know if he could actually digest such an incredible amount of food...

but he supposed there was only one way to find out.