#makes my brain fuzzy and weird

[wintersera]

throwback to one of my favourite minjeong pics ever taken

[bnnywngs]

Wei Wuxian was tricked to be here, he never once heard about this competition-like one month stay in the empress palace to choose the current emperor's second son's wife. They told him he was coming to study under the most famous scholar in their country and sure, Lan Qiren is there, but not as the teacher he expected.

All the men and women present were dressed in their finest robes and all looked extremely politely or were trying to be. The empress and Lan Qiren had told them what to expect of this month - what they were supposed to do and be taught.

He told them he was mistaken and was getting out, but Lan Qiren frowned and called him by name and said that his parents wrote him down as one of the candidates, shocking him into speechless.

(later that night he would find a letter from his mother asking for his forgiveness and that she was expecting him to do well in the competition, for his annoyance)

And when he turned around to leave the room, not believing what he was being told, he crashed against a solid body, going down with a surprised yelp. The man looked at him as if he was dust, used his feet to get him out of the way and treated him as rudely as possible for a second son when Wei Wuxian tried to get a apologies from him.

Angry beyond words, Wei Wuxian decided he was going to flawlessly do every damn step of this, win this goddamned competition and when Lan family would ask for his hand he would reject Lan Wangji with a beautiful monologue about rudeness!

Write that! He's going to be on the history books!

(as an emperor consort years and years and years later, as things happened and he fell in love with Lan Wangji, his brother in law decided to marry out and his father in law stepped down because he was already too old and his youngest son was good enough to be emperor)

[sysig]

New dream OCs drop (Patreon)

[jopzer]

when i put the ted lasso guys into an inception au. then u will see.

[redysetdare]

I cant be the only person who finds stim boards annoying*/painful right???

*annoying as in it frustrates the brain to look at not in the sense of it being cringe.

[catharsisgenerator]

oh my god i didn't realize my fear of spiders was still so bad... i'm trying to recognize that it is just a creature who is trying to live just like me but oohhhh my god. what if it Gets Me.

[s0dium]

𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘

A/n: For all my weird tumblr smut AO3 girls Synopsis: No one expects the weird girl to have such a good pussy. Warnings: Male whimpering, squirting, pussy drunk men, pervert y/n, unprotected sex

No one suspects the weird girl to be a perverted fiend.

No one suspects the weird girl who reads AO3 and Tumblr on the bus and has key chains of their favorite chibi anime guy. No one suspects the girl who fumbles over their words during a presentation, the girl who goes to classes in sweaters and sweatpants, the girl who spends her time daydreaming about fictional scenarios. No one suspects the girl who always seems shy and sweet, only to have a secret stash of explicit fanfiction hidden on her phone, the kind that would make even the most confident person turn red.

And of course, no one expects the weird girl to have such good pussy.

So when the confident, smooth-talking guy gets you in his bedroom, how the hell is it possible that he is trembling from pleasure just from slipping his tip in?

"Fuck, I c-can’t—" he groans, his voice breaking as he stumbles over the words. His usual cool demeanor is completely shattered, replaced with breathless gasps and desperate sounds. His head is thrown back, neck taut, and his eyes are screwed shut like he’s trying to hold onto every ounce of composure, terrified that if he opens them, the mind-numbing pleasure coursing through him will slip away. Every time your pussy squeezes around his aching dick his body trembles uncontrollably, muscles tensing and relaxing in waves as he tries to keep himself together.

"Look at me," you coo, your voice steady despite the pounding of your own heart. You may be practically a virgin, but you're by no means an idiot. Hours of reading smut, scrolling through Twitter porn threads, and indulging in endless fantasies have taught you more than you'd ever admit. You've spent too many nights alone, lost in stories and scenes where you imagined yourself in control, learning every filthy detail in your mind until it felt like second nature. So now, laying here with him unraveling over you, you're anything but inexperienced.

He locks eyes with you, big and desperate and you cup his perfect face with trembling hands.

"You're mine tonight ok?" you whisper, bringing him in just enough for your breath to tickle his lips, your voice low and dripping with confidence you didn't know you had. "Every sound, every breath—your mine."

"F-fuck, y-yeah I'm yours" he groans, accentuating his words with a sharp thrust right into your cervix, knocking the wind out of you.

"Mmm!" You cry. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides in and out of you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, you're cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making him let out a low groan of his own as he thrusts even deeper into you. 

“Y/n I-I can feel you doing it to me,” he says hoarsely.

His fingers gently press into the skin of your hip, guiding and steadying you as he pulls back and thrusts into you. The sudden friction and collision with your G-spot makes your brain go fuzzy. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as he rams into you.

"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up.

Simultaneously, his other hand sought yours, finding it with a purposeful tenderness. His fingers intertwined with yours, locking them together in a grip that was both a clasp and a caress.

"Were we doing it like this in your head baby?" He grunts, his Adam apple bobs as he groans from the pleasure of how fucking heavenly your pussy feels. "Because this is how we were doing it in mine." He felt good? Try euphoric. How could it be possible that pussy feels this good?

You can't even open your mouth to respond. The friction of his dick against your walls is just too good and as his pace intensified, a dizzying warmth spread through you, filling every corner of your being with a euphoric haze. The sensation of being completely enveloped, utterly connected, sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through your body, making your eyes flutter and roll back slightly in sheer bliss. Every motion he makes, every time his fat tip collides with your cervix, leaves behind a trail of sparkling heat that seems to light you from within.

And of course, no one expects the weird girl to be a squirter.

You don't know whats happening and you don't have enough to warn him. Release washed over you in an all-encompassing wave, radiating out from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes. It swept through you like a storm, leaving a trail of starbursts in its wake. Your body arched instinctively, clinging to him as the wave crested, then gently, slowly, began to ebb.

He stills his motion and watches through wide eyes as clear liquid sprays onto his abdomen and you tremble and moan. As you floated back down from the heights of bliss, your breath came easier, softer, the lingering aftershocks of pleasure pulsing gently through you.

"Why did you stop?" You whisper.

Sukuna, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro

#weirdgirlpussy

[gojosprettyprincess]

Not proofread

Thinking about Toji following you into the shower claiming that it's to "save water" and that he won't do anything weird but that always ends up with your boobs being pressed up uncomfortably against the cold marble wall while your struggling to stand up on your tippy toes because of the firm grip he has on your hips that’s holding you up. Two of his thick fingers pumping in and out of your tight puckering asshole while the thick, prominent veins in his cock dragged along the spongy area with each roll of his hips inside your sloppy pussy.

“Fuck that’s it doll, taking my cock so well, you’re such a good girl ya know that?” He smirks behind you, running his tongue along his scar as he watched where the two of you were deliciously connected.

You whimpered at his praise, wiggling your ass back into him pathetically, feeling his two fingers scissoring and stretching your forbidden walls as it contracts around him, squeezing soo hard around his thick fingers. You mewled as he gave your ass another hard slap, his relentless thrusts making his fat cockhead brushes against your g-spot as your pussy continues leaking all over his dick. Your mind grows fuzzy at the amount of pleasure you were receiving by having both of your holes filled.

“Fuc-k! O-oh feels s’good inside of me Toji, s’goood” You moaned out, both of your legs wobbling as you felt his cock racing in and out of you. Your brain turning to mush as you covered his cock with messy rings of your cream.

“Yeahh? Seee I told you baby, all ya gotta do is be a good little girl f’me n listen to what daddy says and he’ll make you feel sooo good.” He keened, referring to when you were trying to resist him earlier which led to this, while he was groping and touching you everywhere, seducing you. But either way, Toji will always get his way with you no matter what.

He hisses sharply at how tight your butthole and pussy were clenching around him. To him both of your holes are pretty, tight and delicious so why not stuff both of em? His cock twitches uncontrollably inside of you as your cunt milks him for his own release. He already pulled two orgasms out of you so there’s no way he’s stopping till you’re fed full of this cum. His jaw runs slack as he felt your pussy spasming around him, “Shitt you’re killing me doll—gonna stuff the pretty cunt soo deep and full with my cum, I bet it’ll overflow” he groans, pulling his fingers out of your ass so he can use both hands to grip on your hips to your pound you harder.

You whined as your butthole flutters, missing Toji’s fingers and attention as he picks up his pace inside your cunt. His fingernails dug into both sides of your hips as heavy cum-filled balls continuously slaps against your clit, increasing the intensity of pleasure. He mashes his body closer to you, his chest touching your back as he licks your earlobe gently. You whimpered when you feel his cock throbbing in your pussy, “shitshitshit” he gritted his teeth, “I’m gonna cum, fucking take it all” he moans, wrapping both arms around your torso, smothering his body against yours as his sperm flows into your pussy, filling you up and painting your walls white as he tucks his face into your neck.

His hot breath fanning against your skin as he continues to thrusts shallowly into you. Half of his milky cum escapes out of your snugged cunt, leaking down your legs as he fucks the rest deeper into you.

He finally pulls out of you, his eyes focused on how fast his sperm leaks out of your hole and runs down your thighs. “Fuckk, would you look at that” he snickered, slapping his cock against your soaked wet hole.

“Finish up and meet me in the bedroom” he gives your ass a hard smack before leaving the shower.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 ft. Toji Fushiguro

᧔♡᧓ in which Toji’s a virgin killer and you’re next for his collection

He’s fucking you on his cock with no mercy, using your tight virgin pussy as a flesh light for his own pleasure. You were so naive, so easy. It made him happy how easily you trusted him. It almost made him feel bad. Almost.

“F-fuck— Toji,” you moaned, nails digging into his biceps as he roughly moved you up and down on his cock. One of his veiny hands wrapped tightly around your throat as he chuckled into your ear. “Does that feel good baby? Feel good when I break that tight lil pussy in?”

“Mhm, feels so good. I love it s’ much,” you let out a broken mewl, your lips parted in small moans and cries as you clenched down on the thick cock slamming up into you.

There were little blinking cameras recording the scandal. One set up to specifically zoom in on the way your puffy cunt was swallowing his fat cock to the brim, your hole stretching to suck in every inch of him. The other was positioned perfectly to capture your cute facial expressions. “Such a little fucking slut hmm? Your first ever dicking and you’re getting on like this. This pussy was meant to take my cock… fuck, do you feel that? Feel how deep i am?

You whined tearily, your nails finally breaking past the barrier of his skin when he pressed down on the bulge in your stomach, feeling a coil building within the walls your abdomen. “I’m—” you cut yourself off with a choked whimper “‘M gonna cum— feels..” another whimper, “haah- feels weird.” you cried out.

Your head fell back onto his shoulder as he sped up his pace. His cock sloppily thrusting up into your wetness with his balls slapping noisily against your swollen clit. Toji’s hand left your neck, digging into your cheeks and pulling your face up straight.

“Come on little slut, make a fucking mess f’ me. Such a dirty, dirty girl.” he growled out, watching as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. Your brain finally dumbing down as you began to babble.

You let out a high pitched cry, more tears pooling along your bottom lashes as your body shook uncontrollably. He was so damn deep in you. And it felt so good. “O-oh fuckk— Toji ‘m cumming, ahh ‘m cumming- ‘m—”

Toji watched as your toes visibly curled, your mouth hung open in a silent scream as you squirted on his cock. “There we go,” he cooed, eyes darkening as your pussy clenched down on him hard, gushing stream after stream of the clear liquid until his thighs were soaked.

Your body trembled as you were fucked through your orgasm, Toji’s grin wider than ever as he seemingly stared down a picture on his wall. “Tell me pretty slut, who’s fucking you this good?”

You only whimpered, your head fuzzy as an incoherent babble of his name escaped past your lips. Toji scowled, his thrusts getting hard and slow between each word as his fingers wrapped into your hair. “I said. Who is fucking you this good? Ruining this pussy for anyone else?”

“Y-you. You are Toji.”

He smiled, letting go of the makeshift ponytail to wipe away your tears of pleasure. Fingers gliding lower until they slipped past your lips to press on your tongue. “Good girl.”

He couldn’t wait to add your video to his collection. Maybe he’d keep fucking you on a regular and make you your very own folder. There was no way in hell he was letting you go.

[foxmulderautism]

instagram recommending me a reel for a peach frosé recipe what the fuck literally most felixcore cocktail of all time. literally just frozen peaches and rosé blended together. me when i said i'd be productive but now i'm falling down a peach flavoured cocktail rabbit hole

[bunnys-kisses]

baby fever

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, dirty talk, breeding/pregnancy, filthy, husband!price, slight age gap (reader is early 20s, price late 30s), military formal wear, oral (m receiving), doggy style, unprotected

bunny says: i thought about built/chubby price and him in his military formals and my brain turned off. this was the end result.

price wasn't beating the bear allegations. while he wasn't a gay bear, he knew that there were a lot of women who loved his physique. dusting of hair, built but enjoyed a good sunday roast. thick fingers and broad tongue. he was a built man after his years of service.

but if price had to pin you as an animal, it would be his little chickadee. small and fragile with a cute little song. the most loveliest thing he had ever laid his eyes on. no wonder within a year of dating, you were already engaged.

price knew when he had a good thing going and didn't want to ruin it. you were still in university, but he'd never make his darling girl quit school for his sake.

"'ey, love." he said as he walked past you on your laptop. he leaned in and kissed the side of your neck, "studyin' well?"

you looked over and smiled at him, "of course, big bear." you took him by the face and kissed him on the cheek. your engagement ring gleamed in the light of the living room.

but even the brightest university students could easily crumble against a man like price. it didn't help that there was a spike in your baby fever. it was almost embarrassing when you watched price in the living room, shining his uniform boots. it also didn't help when he was making sure that formal attire still fit.

he noticed you staring, you didn't try to hide it.

he stood there in front of the full length mirror in your shared bedroom. the beret, the jacket, the medals. hands on his hips as he looked at you. he smiled, his eyes crinkled at the sight of your jaw almost on the floor.

"tryin' to see if everythin' still fit. need to go back to the gym, your cookin' is gonna be the death of me, love." he chuckled. he dragged his tongue across his top teeth and said, "now that i know, why don't ya help me get out of it."

maybe a man in uniform was your (not-so) secret kink. you've seen him in everything under the sun, but every time it still made your throat dry. you were in your sunday pajamas, paired with fuzzy slippers.

he reached out for you, "ya like when i'm dressed like this, huh?" he chuckled as he tilted his head down to kiss the top of your head.

"i mean." you said, "you look good." you blushed a little bit more and looked away from him, but he took you by the chin to look at him. those blue eyes peered into yours.

"don't be shy, love." he said, "i like when ya stare."

you held onto the front of his jacket, the thick material felt heavy in your grasp. you could feel the wetness between your legs. damn price. you said, "you look good, big bear."

he reached down and took a handful of your ass, "and you look even better, my chickadee. now c'mon, undress yer man." then licked his top lip at the sight of your delicate hands trying to undo the formal jacket. he then took you by the head again and said, "pants first." then helped you onto your knees.

you swallowed and looked up at him. if anyone looked inside, they'd see a weird power dynamic. but all price saw was an eager little birdie trying to get her hands on her husband.

"those medals look nice." you said as he reached for his belt.

he chuckled, "not as nice as your lips on my cock." then dragged a hand through your hair. the belt soon came off as his pants were unzipped. he was thankful that he knew how to get any stains out of his uniform, because he knew you were a messy girl.

you took his cock out of his slacks. it stood was full attention and even after all this time together, the sight of it was still arousing. cut, thick, a deep pink (not quite red) and almost eight inches in length. you once joked it was a "porno dick".

you kissed the underside of it with such warmth that it made the man shudder. then started the slow, small licks against the shaft. you chuckled to yourself at the feeling of his cock under your tongue. he felt like a dream.

"that's a good girl. my darlin' girl." he said with a hint of pride in his voice. he loved the sight of you on his knees. even if the sweat down his back was making the heavy jacket more uncomfortable.

you stroked the base of his cock with one hand while you put your mouth fully on the tip. you teased it with wet strokes of you tongue. you could hear the gruff noise your husband made.

you squirmed a little while on your knees and could feel a dull throb between your legs. price's cock was an impressive sight and a task to fully get in your mouth.

"ya got a small mouth, love.' he remarked jokingly, "too small for all of this. but i know you'll do your best.' he combed his fingers through your hair once more before it rested on the back of your head.

he supported your head while you continued to orally pleasure him. he loved his woman on her knees in front of him. while he held you in high regard, he thought you were the sweetest things since strawberries on cake, but there was something about seeing HIS woman like this.

you looked up at him and a groan got caught in his throat. you gave him a cute little wink before you continued to stroke him off. your other hand was on his strong thigh for support as you pleasured him.

"oh sweet fuck." he groaned.

you knew you'd never take all of him in your throat but you made the most of what you could. his cock was heavy in your mouth as you continued to move your head.

he gripped the back of your head, he felt hot all over as pleasure pumped through his veins. he loved his girl, his darling sweet angel. yeah the age difference was to raise an eyebrow at. but if they knew the angel he managed to get a ring on, they'd understand.

his little chickadee.

you looked up at him once more. the way he looked down at you with a guiding hand on the back of your head. you pulled your mouth off his cock and looked up at him with your tongue out of your mouth.

"fuckin' doll eyes." he said, "get back to what you were doin', i want to see you take every last drop."

you once again went back to orally pleasuring him. your hand dug into the meat of his thigh as you tried to take more of his cock in your throat. the noises that came from your husband made your core ache.

the bright pink in his cheeks made you smile as he messed up with hair with his broad hands. he felt so big next to you. his little precious wife doing everything in her power to get him off.

with a few more thrusts of your head with his cock nudging the back of your throat. you moved to keep the tip against your tongue as he came down your throat. you didn't want to choke on his cum but you savored every last salty drop.

maybe a man in uniform did things to you.

when you pulled away, you looked up at him. "i want you, john." you said as you licked your lips and wiped your chin with the back of your hand, "i want to have your babies." the baby fever was thrumming in your veins, "fuck me, big bear."

he raised an eyebrow, "babies, huh? i thought you wanted to be a working woman." he said cheekily.

you rose to your feet, your legs were shaky as you grabbed him by the front of his uniform jacket and kissed him deeply. you almost toppled over him but he held you by the middle for support. when you pulled away, you panted as you said, "breed me price, or i'll find someone else to do it."

his expression darkened, "don't be sayin' things like that, love." he pulled you close to him. his cock was still hard between you two, "you better not run off with some runt." he kissed your heated cheek, "now face down, ass up, chickadee."

you pulled away from him and turned towards the bed. you shredded your clothes and almost threw yourself onto the large mattress. your face against the pillow with your back arched and hips raised.

you felt the bed sink soon after with your husband's large hands on your hips and his cock rested against your ass.

"your uniform." you squeaked.

"i'll iron it tonight." he replied, "right now, my darlin' girl needs her pussy fucked." his vulgar language made a shiver run through you.

when he bottomed out into your pussy, you felt the air escape your lungs. you clutched onto the pillow. he got a perfect view of your backside, his gaze felt hungry against you.

"please."

"my darlin' girl." price said softly. he leaned in and kissed you on the shoulder. you felt like a tight heat around him. "my beautiful wife." price adored that you were his wife. that you decided to marry him, now he got to feel up your beautiful figure every moment.

"god, john." you moaned, "was it always this damn big?"

he chuckled lowly, "you make me hard, love. i see ya and i just go wild." he then started to kiss at your shoulders and neck.

you held onto the pillow and panted in the pillows. you felt the sweat at your back as you were fucked. you panted into the fabric and felt your husband thrust into you.

"sweeter than jam and more fuckable than a toy." he chuckled lowly as he began to pick up the pace. he could feel your heat under him, you were a dream in his eyes.

the precious wife to be a beloved captain, almost twenty years her senior. the bed creaked under your movements and the sweet sounds of your sex filled the air. it was also joined by your sweet noises that encouraged your husband to keep fucking you.

you felt hot all over as the man fucked you. the pleasure rolled through your body as you moved against the bed. you panted and moaned into the pillow and let your husband thrust into you.

"my sweet girl." he purred.

"please, john." you whined.

the sex between you two felt hot, like you were on a knife's edge as he rutted against you. you could feel the heat pool in your gut as he moved against you. sweat clung to your chest and neck. your hair stuck against your skin.

"that's it." he murmured. his cock throbbed inside of you.

your love making continued, you pushed the hair out of your eyes the more he fucked you from behind. your hands were deep in the pillow as you moaned into the fabric.

price loved the sight of you. he just thought that you looked amazing, HIS girl was like this under him. he was your big strong bear and he loved the sight of you under him. just a dream to him. his heat raced in his hairy chest as he placed more weight on you.

"shit, john." you groaned.

"I got ya. i'll be finishin' in ya soon. give ya all the babes you want." he chuckled as he kissed your heated cheek. his thrusts were quick and made you see stars behind your lids.

you were heated all over and your head was swimming. you panted wildly into the bed and with a few more strokes of his cock, you came around him.

price groaned at intense heat around his cock. he went as fast as he could and felt the sweat down his toned back. he pressed himself further into you and finished.

his cum shot to the back of your cunt and you let out a pleased noise. his pace slowed down until he stopped and pulled out. he wiped the sweat from his forehead and scratched his hairy chest, "how's that, love?"

you laid fully flat on the bed and nodded your head, "we're going to have to keep goin' though, big bear. you've done so much damage to yourself that your swimmers aren't as strong as they used to be." so you rolled onto your back and reached for him, "c'mon. fuck me again."

he chuckled as he leaned back on his heels and stroked his cock, "of course chickadee. anythin' for ya."

[happyfoxx-art]

And finally, Aftermath Family Meeting 7 | double post for the special occasion~ :) PREV | FIRST

I cannot believe its finally finished. Aftermath was the biggest project I've completed to date and I am so honored to have so many of you along for the ride with me. Now, you may be wondering: what now?

yeah. Me too. It feels really weird to finally have this completed. But, as a donnie core individual, i have PLANS :3

I will be taking some time off of Turtles, Dreamworks Trolls is currently making my brain all fuzzy and happy so I'll be skerdoodling about in that fandom for a bit before I return to start my next Turtle Project. It's all written. You guys aren't ready. It's gonna be SICK.

Once again, thanks for being here for Aftermath. it means the world to me that so many people liked to read something I made. Remember to be kind to yourselves and that healing isnt an all at once thing, its a every day tiny steps thing. See ya soon :)

[buckymorelikefuckme]

and baby makes three

(the reboot)

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 11.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...Yearning?

No. Definitely not. Nope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And god, do you even want a baby?

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“You could knock,” you grouse.

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

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

“You didn’t answer me.”

Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So… You’re serious.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.

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

“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.

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

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

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

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me see!”

“It’s private!”

“Don’t be a chicken.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he asks innocently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown, not following.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” you return.

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

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

Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”

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

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

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

Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” you hear through the door.

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

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

“I did it,” you whisper.

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

“Congratulations,” he says softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.

But nothing happens.

All of your tests come back negative.

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

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

***

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

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

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

Bucky frowns. “Why not?”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you haven’t been doing… that.”

“I didn’t think I’d need to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

And wait.

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

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

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

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

“What do I do, Bucky?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown. “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you allow, softly.

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

You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hi.”

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

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

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

“It’s not gonna be weird.”

“Nope.”

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

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

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

“May I?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.

Oh.

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

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

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

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

“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.

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

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

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

“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.

“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.

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

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

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

“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stop it, you scold yourself.

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

“O-Oh,” you whimper.

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

“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.

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

“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”

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

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

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

“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.

“That was…”

“Mhm,” you mumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.

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

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”

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

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

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

***

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

Honest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.

“Hey,” you say after a pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.

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

***

Another week passes.

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

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

Positive.

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

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

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

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

Every single one of them… Positive.

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

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

“Did we…?”

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

“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”

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

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

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

“What?” you question distractedly.

“I’m in love with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bucky, please,” you beg.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh god,” you mumble.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So good, did so well,” he mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”

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

“Hi.”

You crack a smile. “Hi.”

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

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

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

“Interesting,” he muses.

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

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

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

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

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

“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”

His smile goes soft at the edges.

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

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

***

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

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

“What about—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[theemporium]

[4.6k] as the season dwindles on and the new year approaches, luke comes to a handful of realisations. some of them were unsurprising. some of them were not. one of them leads to a very interesting interaction during his captain's new years party. (smut)

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Whoever said it was better to be self aware was a fucking liar. 

It had been a few weeks since the Hughesbowl and Luke had come to a few realisations in that time. Some epiphanies that had been tormenting him over sleepless nights as the season dragged on into December and quickly approached the end of the year. 

One: No matter how many times he had said it before, Luke still couldn’t quite grasp just how different NHL hockey was to the hockey he had been playing his whole life. And it sounded stupid to say, considering he had grown up being around NHL players and had two brothers in the league before him too. But it was tiring and rewarding and, fuck, he didn’t think he had ever been so hungry in his damn life before he joined the NHL. 

Two: Adulting in college versus adulting in real life was weird, different and not as fun as he liked to think it was when he was growing up. He felt like he spent most of his free time fighting the washing machine, wondering if groceries had always been this expensive and bribing Jack to do things for him when it got too overwhelming or confusing. Which, also wasn’t great considering his brother was just as helpless as he was, and Quinn was too far away to bother. 

Three: Despite the concerns tucked away in the back of his mind when he signed his first contract with the Devils, none of the team had made him feel like he was just Jack’s younger brother. He knew Nico had said as much at the start of the season, but experiencing it and really feeling like a part of the team brought a fuzzy warmth in his chest that he wasn’t quite ready to confess to anyone—but it was a nice feeling that followed him through the season, even after the losses. 

Four: Figuring out you were kind of in love with your friend who also offered to take your virginity was not exactly the best crisis to be having in the middle of your rookie NHL season. But he was having said crisis regardless and there wasn’t much he could do about it. 

And five: the Devils took New Years very seriously. 

As in serious enough that Jack was looking at him like he was the crazy one at this current moment.

“Did you hear what I just said?” 

Luke blinked, his spoon hovering awkwardly over his bowl of cereal as he stared at his brother across the table. “Yeah no, I heard you. I am just trying to wrap my head around why you decided to tell me at—” His eyes glanced over at the clock on the wall before returning to Jack. “Seven in the morning that I am banned from leaving the state for New Years?”

“Because you’ll make Nico sad,” Jack said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Luke put his spoon down. “Nah, you’ve still lost me.” 

Jack let out a deep sigh. “You can’t upset him like that, Luke. He’s our captain.”

“And me leaving the state in the three days off we have between games around then will upset him?” Luke deadpanned. He wasn’t even planning on leaving. He doesn't even know where he would go. But his sleepy brain almost wanted to pretend he had plans just to spite Jack right now.

“Duh,” Jack huffed. “He throws a New Years thing every year. Jonas missed it once when he had some family in town and Nico was pouty as fuck after, even if he didn’t admit it. It’s, like, a team bonding thing for him. Hockey families and real families coming together.”

Luke blinked. “It’s way too early for me to understand half the words that just left your mouth.”

“Plus we have a game on his birthday,” Jack added with a shrug. “It will probably be a double celebration.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke grumbled as he shoved another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I’ll be there. You know I’d be there. I don’t get why you’re asking.”

Jack didn’t say anything for a moment before he spoke again, trying (and failing) to sound casual. “He doesn’t mind if you bring some guests. The more the merrier.”

Luke bit back his yawn. “Who would I even bring?” 

Jack shot him a deadpan look. “You’re so dumb.”

“Whatever,” Luke murmured, almost tempted to lay his head down on the counter and fall asleep right there. “M’not gonna miss Nico’s New Years party, don’t gotta get defensive about your boyfriend.”

Jack let out a noise that sounded vaguely close to a squeak. “He is not my boyfriend—” 

Luke zoned out after that. 

…

It wasn’t until a few days later, when Luke was sprawled on the floor in some feeble attempt of stretching his muscles after a late morning gym session, that Jack’s words made sense. 

He stared up at the gym room ceiling, listening to the various noises around the room: machines humming, metal clinking, guys talking. It was oddly soothing, almost mindful. These were noises Luke was familiar with, that he sought out to cling onto when the noises in his head were a little more irritating. It reminded him that he was actually there in the moment.

“Are you stuck down there?” 

Luke blinked as a shadow suddenly casted over him, taking a few seconds before he saw Nico staring down at him with an inquisitive look, though he seemed more amused than concerned. 

“Cardio days suck,” was all he was able to supply, his hands resting on his stomach as he made no move to sit back up or head towards the locker room to shower and change.

Nico just snorted, shaking his head in a way that almost seemed fond. “Welcome to the big league.” 

“Every league has cardio,” Luke replied, a little snottily if he was honest with himself. “And it sucks no matter what age you are.” 

Nico’s grin just widened in response.

For a moment, Luke was happy to just lay there for a few more minutes and let Nico wander off to go check on some of the other guys dotted around the gym. He knew his captain, knew he was doing his rounds and knew that he would have done them anyways, regardless of the ‘C’ on his chest because that was just the type of person Nico was. Luke was happy to let him shift that attention onto someone else.

But then Nico turned to head towards Haula and Bastian on the treadmills and a thought suddenly entered his head and Luke was opening his mouth before he even realised it.

“Hey, are you still doing your New Years thing?” 

Nico paused, his face brightening up. “Yeah, I am.” He paused, his smile faltering a little. “Why, can you not make it? I swear Jack said you could—”

“No, yeah, I am,” Luke answered quickly, scrambling to sit up a little so he would feel less exposed. He ran his fingers through his curls, wincing a little when his pinky nabbed a tangle before making his eyes meet Nico’s curious gaze. “I was just wondering if it would be okay if I brought someone.” 

Nico’s shoulders dropped in relief but his head tilted in interest. “Brought someone?” 

“A friend,” Luke supplied. 

“A friend,” Nico repeated, looking as though he was biting back his grin. “Yeah no, bring her with you. The more the merrier.”

Luke raised his brows. “How did you know it was a her?” 

Nico smiled knowingly. “Call it a captain’s hunch.”

Luke frowned. “That’s not a thing.”

Nico just shrugged in response. 

He tried not to let the question linger too much, instead finally forcing himself to finish his stretches before heading towards the locker room. The noise of his teammates blurred in the background as he reached for his phone, typing out a message before heading towards the showers.

hockey boy: u got any plans for nye?

…

“You suck.”

“I literally don’t know how else you expected me to answer the question.”

“I asked you what the dress code was and you said ‘nice’,” you scoffed, shooting the boy a look as you settled into the passenger seat of his car. “Nice isn’t a dress code. Nice doesn’t tell me if I should be wearing jeans or a dress.”

Luke tried—and failed-–to bite back his grin as he glanced over at you. “I see you went with the dress.” 

“No thanks to you,” you retorted with a small huff, but your lips were already twitching upwards. “I would rather your teammates think I am weirdly overdressed than weirdly underdressed.” 

“They won’t think you are weird,” he assured you, deciding not to point out the fact you had been around them on previous occasions and had never ran into that issue before. He didn’t think you would want him playing know-it-all. “But maybe stay away from Curtis.” 

He could hear the glee in your voice, even if he didn’t turn his head around. “Scared he will give me some ammo against you?” 

“Yes.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “My new favourite Devil.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, also deciding not to mention the small burn of jealousy that bubbled in his stomach at your obvious joke. 

“Don’t worry,” you said after a few moments of silence, playfully knocking your hand against his thigh. “I wouldn’t embarrass you in front of your people.”

Luke snorted. “My people?”

“Yeah, you athletes are all super weird about your teammates. You guys kinda seem more like a cult than a family but it’s cute,” you teased. “Does this mean I get to join the cult for the night? Special access?” 

“We aren’t a cult,” Luke scoffed, choosing to also not mention the handful of weird superstitions half of his teammates complete before every game. 

“But they are important to you,” you retorted.

Luke nodded, smiling a little softer. “Yeah. They are.” 

“Then I’ll keep the fact you thought the Titanic was a documentary a secret,” you concluded, snickering when the boy let out an exaggerated groan.

“It’s based on a real ship, okay!” 

“Yeah but Leonardo DiCaprio wasn’t on the ship back in 1912 when it went down.” 

“Whatever, there was room on that door and everyone knows it,” Luke grumbled, sniffling slightly before he turned to glance at you once again as the car came to a stop at a red light. “You’re important to me too, you know.” 

You turned your head to look at him, wiggling your eyebrows. “Working towards a midnight blowjob instead of a midnight kiss?” 

“I—no,” his cheeks burned hot and he was suddenly glad the car was too dark for you to see the full extent of how red his face must have been as memories of you on your knees—of his number on your cheeks—flashed to the front of his mind. “I mean it. You’re important to me.” 

You blinked, your smile faltering a little when you realised he was serious. “Oh.”

“Like,” Luke quickly cleared his throat. “We’re friends, right? My friends are important to me.” 

“Yeah no, of course,” you laughed, and maybe it was still a little awkward and stilted but he was glad you weren’t jumping out of the car and running off. “I didn’t realise I reached cult level though.”

Luke smiled. “Maybe just for tonight.”

“Knew it!” 

He turned his eyes back to the road for the rest of the journey to Nico’s place.

…

Luke knew he shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. He knew that. He didn’t even mean to. It just kind of happened somewhere between him disappearing into Nico’s kitchen to look amongst the weird European beers and ciders until he could find two flutes of champagne for you both and walking back with said flutes in hand to overhear you talking to Jack. 

Jack, who he remembered being on the other side of the room almost on Nico’s lap, before he left to grab your drinks.

“You watch our games?” 

Luke paused, a voice in his head telling him to take that step forward, to walk back into the room, to intervene before Jack inevitably embarrassed him. The other—and louder—voice kept him put, holding onto the champagne flutes tightly as he listened. 

“Yeah, the ones I can.” 

“Really?” 

“You sound surprised.” 

“Guess I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“I mean, I don’t understand a single thing that is happening.”

“Luke hasn’t explained the game to you?”

“Oh no, he has. I still don’t get it. But hey, the commentators tell me you guys are pretty good.” 

Luke listened to the way Jack laughed, noted how it sounded more like his actual laugh rather than the stilted media one.

“I’m surprised Luke had the balls to invite you.” 

Luke’s eyes widened, his cheeks growing hot again as he silently vowed to trip Jack up during their next practice for that line.

“Am I that scary?” 

Jack didn’t respond for a moment. “I don’t think it’s you he’s scared of.”

“What? He thought you guys would scare me away?” 

“We can be overwhelming.”

“You guys fight other grown men on ice for a living, I think I can survive.”

Jack laughed again. “Mom would love you, you really know how to keep a guy humble.”

“You mean keep his ego in check.”

“Professional athletes with egos? Unheard of.”

This time it was you who snorted out a laugh.

“You’re not what I expected, Cherry.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?” 

But before Jack could say anything, before he could possibly embarrass Luke any further and continue whatever weird interrogation he had going on with you, Luke quickly rounded the corner and practically shoved a champagne flute into your hand whilst shooting his brother a look.

“Shouldn’t you be bothering Nico or something?” 

Jack shot his brother a knowing look, glancing between the two of you before he took a step back. “Yeah, I guess I have a few things to tell him.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. 

“It was nice to meet you, Cherry,” Jack said earnestly, tipping his beer bottle towards you. “Maybe I’ll catch you at the house. It would be nice to see Luke around instead of running off to yours.”

You snorted. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Luke watched the new but playful camaraderie between you and his brother. The banter and the shared laughs at his expense. He watched it as he chugged a mouthful of champagne, hoping the bubbles would drown the other fluttering feelings he was feeling in his stomach. 

…

“I’ve been looking for you.”

You snapped your head around, your smile widening a little when you found Luke standing by the door of the guest room. His sleeves were now rolled up, a few more buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and his curls looked as though they had been ruffled by a drunk and very handsy Haula more than once.

“The main bathroom was occupied so Nico said I could come in and use the guest room bathroom,” you explained, nodding your head towards the other door. 

“And you decided to hide in here afterwards?” Luke asked, mostly playful and teasing but there was a hint of concern in his voice. The team could be a lot sometimes and, despite the fact you seemed more than capable of holding your own, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable and as though you couldn’t leave.

“I got intrigued,” you shrugged as you gestured towards the bookshelf that seemed to take over a large portion of the guest room wall. “How many languages does this guy know?”

Luke snorted as he walked deeper into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed with a small huff. “I think three?” He shrugged, leaning back against his hands. 

“That must be so cool,” you murmured, your eyes flickering over the book spines before turning back to look at Luke. “Do you know any other languages?” 

Luke shook his head.

“None?” You laughed in disbelief. “Buddy, most of your teammates down there speak English as a second language and you haven’t picked up anything?” 

“Do three words in standard German count?” Luke retorted, playful and sheepish all at once. “Jack tried learning on Duolingo for, like, two weeks to try to impress Nico during summer before realising Swiss German and standard German are different.”

You shook your head, trying to bite back your smile as you wandered closer. “F for effort on your part. I’m pretty sure Jonas taught me more in one conversation than you’ve learnt all season.”

Luke rolled his eyes, his fingers twitching against the comforter with the urge to reach out for you. “It can be my New Years resolution.” 

“Yeah? You have a list?” You questioned, watching as he spread his legs without thinking and let you into the space like it was instinctual. 

He shrugged. “I try. Achievable stuff, you know?” 

You raised your brows. “Like?”

“Eat better, workout more, start a new hobby,” he listed off, trying and failing to keep a straight face as he finally gave in, as he finally reached for your waist to tug you even closer to him. “Learn a new skill. Or improve on ones I already know.”

You hummed, your hands resting on his shoulders as your fingers skimmed the fabric of his shirt. “Hockey skills?” 

Luke glanced up at you, swallowing a little. “Not all of them.”

Your lips twitched upwards. 

His thumb smoothed over your hips, feeling the small details of your dress under his touch. “What’s on your list?” 

“I don’t have one,” you admitted with a shrug. “No point to it. If I want to do something, I’ll do it.” 

“Sounds like one of the media trained answers we are forced to give,” Luke teased, pressing his thumb a little harsher to gain your attention when your head tipped back with a laugh. “No, but really. There’s nothing new you wanna try?” 

“Are you offering?” You retorted, lighthearted and teasing. 

“Yeah,” he rasped. “Maybe I am.” 

Your head tilted slightly, your hand moving to lightly grasp the back of his neck. “We probably shouldn’t. I hate to break it to you, Hughes, but you’re not very quiet once you get going.” 

His cheeks burned but he didn’t tear his eyes away from you. “Who said I was the one getting off?” 

And that seemed to catch you by surprise.

“Pretty boy is feeling confident, huh?” You mused, your fingers brushing against the curls at the nape of his neck. “As hot as it is, I don’t think we have time.” 

And your words sent a spark through, soft and buzzing and persistent. A spark that he knew very well, a spark that made his grip on your waist tighten. A spark that he felt every single time he stepped onto the ice.

“Is that a challenge?” Luke asked, his voice a little lower than he intended. 

You smirked, shaking your head. “Depends what you have in mind.” 

His heart was pounding in his chest, loud and strong and overwhelming, but it didn’t stop him as he leaned his chin against your stomach. “I want to make you come.” 

Your eyes wandered over his face, at the pure determination in his eyes. “Oh?” 

“Mhm,” he nodded, his hands trailing down the side of your thighs. “That’s on my list too.” 

Your lips twitched. “Thinking of becoming a ladies man? Live up to the hockey sex god stereotype?” 

He shook his head. “No. Not other girls. Just wanna make you come.”

You didn’t have a reply for that. 

“I wanna make you come right now. In here.” There was a flicker of something else in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read. 

Your brows lifted slightly.

“If you want to,” he added, his hands squeezing the back of your thighs. “Consent is sexy, you know.” 

“Show me what you’ve got, pretty boy,” you murmured, leaning down to close the distance between you as you pressed your lips against his. 

The rest of the world was a distant buzz in the back of his mind once you finally kissed him, his shoulders dropping with some unexplainable relief that only being around you seems to bring. Your fingers were already in his curls by the time his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, leaving the boy groaning and gasping into your mouth as you tugged him closer. 

You pulled back for a second, to catch your breath and appreciate the flush on his cheeks before leaning back in. But it was enough. It was enough to have his mind spiralling faster than he could even keep up with.

For a split second, you weren’t smiling down at him. For a split second, the two of you were back in his car and you were staring at him with an expression he didn’t understand, an expression that made his stomach turn nonetheless. For a split second, he was just staring helplessly at you as you doubted the words he said. 

And whilst Luke never claimed to be the sharpest tool in the shed, he knew it would be a monumentally stupid idea to repeat the words. He knew that if he repeated the words he said in the car, if he tried to insist on their truth, you would shut down again. 

And he didn’t want that.

Not at all.

But the overwhelming and insistent need to show you what you meant to him was bubbling inside him, swirling along with the bottled up feelings and glasses of champagne he had drank over the course of the night. 

And if he couldn’t tell you, he would show you. He would make you see that you were important to him, that this unlikely and unconventional friendship may have started with you helping him but he was in this for you too. 

That your pleasure was important to him too.

He swallowed your gasp with another kiss as he tugged you closer, as he finally broke whatever restraint the two of you had until you were finally on his lap. Or, almost on his lap. But when you tried to shift in his hold, when you tried to straddle his lap properly, Luke’s strong grip on your waist kept you locked in place.

“Stay,” he murmured, swallowing harshly as he leaned back enough to watch the confusion wash over your face. 

“I thought—” You started but he was already shaking his head.

“Like this. I want to get you off like this,” he confessed, his voice rasping as he tried to pretend like his whole body wasn’t thrumming with excitement and nerves and something else he wasn’t quite ready to name. “On my thigh.” 

You tucked your lip between your teeth. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

“Fuck, Luke,” you murmured under your breath before pulling his lips back onto yours through the hold you still had on his curls. 

He sunk into the kiss as easily as he breathed, moaning softly when he felt your tongue against his own. His hands clung onto you, squeezing your waist like he needed to make sure you were actually there, like this was real and not some sex-crazed dream he would wake up from, half-hard and alone in his room. 

But the silk of your dress remained under his touch, soft and smooth and bunching in his fists as he clenched the fabric in his hold. And then his hands started wandering as you continued to kiss him senseless. 

He pushed the skirt of your dress up until it pooled at your waist, until his hands were engulfing and squeezing your thighs. His fingers continued to skin upwards, until his fingertips were brushing against the waistband of your panties, until he could hear the small gasp you let out as he lightly traced them. 

It made his head spin the way you were straddling his thigh, the way he could feel the warmth of your cunt pressed against his leg, feel it through the fabric of the dress pants he wore for the party. It made his head spin how he wished he could pull them off, how he wished he could just feel you with no boundaries between. 

His hands were pawing at you before they started to guide you, rocking you back and forth on his thigh. It was slow and deliberate, almost unnoticeable until the first choked out noise you let out between the soft kisses he was giving you. 

“C’mon,” his voice was low, rough, full of desire. “Want you to take what you want.” 

One hand remained entangled in his curls but the other shifted down to grip his shoulder, to dig your nails into the fabric of his shirt as you continued to follow the pace he set. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. It felt so fucking good with his sweet words smothering the slow pace he refused to relent.

“Shit, Luke, I—” You cut yourself off, biting down on your lower lip as he continued to guide your hips, as he continued to let you grind yourself against his flexing thigh. 

“Whatever you want,” he murmured out, feeling like he was in a daze as he watched your eyes flutter shut. You were breathtaking when you let the pleasure take over, when he got to see you with no walls up and unguarded. “Just tell me.” 

“More,” you managed to mutter out, your head falling back as you continued to ride his thigh, to feel the rush of what you were doing just down the hall from his teammates wash over you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered because he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t hold the thought back even if he wanted to. “Wanna make you come more, Cherry baby, shit.”

Because he did. He wanted to do this a million more times if he could watch you like this for the rest of his life. He wanted to see you riding his thigh, unashamed and unabashed, so lost in your own pleasure—pleasure that you were receiving from him—that you had no other worries in the world.

He wanted to watch you lean your head forward against his shoulder, his name leaving your lips between soft moans and a list of curse words as your orgasm washed over you. He wanted to watch the way your body shook with the after effects, the way you clung onto him like a lineline. 

He wanted to watch the way you lifted your head, giving him a smile so soft that he felt like the rug was pulled out from underneath him. 

“I have been severely underrating hockey thighs all these years,” you muttered, your smile widening a little more when Luke let out a disbelieving laugh.

Luke couldn’t tear his eyes away from you if he tried. “What? No thank you?” 

“That’s your thing, pretty boy, not mine,” you teased before you relented, leaning forward to press a soft but lingering kiss on his cheek. It was somehow the most intimate act you shared in the last fifteen minutes. “Ten out of ten for your thighs.”

Luke swallowed harshly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Good, because that won’t be the last time we are using them,” you said to him, so sure of yourself and unaware of the muddle of thoughts in his head at that moment. 

“Happy New Years, Cherry,” he managed to mutter out, not even sure if the clock had passed twelve or not. But it was the last of his concerns when you smiled at him.

“Happy New Years, Luke,” you murmured softly. 

And yet, all he could think about was how he wanted to hear those words leave your mouth every year. 

.

[venusstorm]

𝘽𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙃𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨

The time in which you gifted Bucky Barnes an adorable little keychain for his motorcycle.

ෆ Warnings: 18+ – MINORS DNI, fluff, insecurity, Bucky can’t stop lifting you up

ෆ Bucky Barnes x Reader

ෆ w/c: 1.2k

̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟

"Isn't this yours, honeybee?" Bucky questions, dangling the bright yellow bumblebee with a pastel pink heart in his hand. He inspects it carefully, turning it around before offering it back to you.

You shake your head, "It was, yea...but..."

Bucky stares at you expectantly and suddenly the entire idea sounded foolish. You couldn't help but envision him laughing at you, snorting at how ridiculous he'd look flying down the highway with your dumb keychain flapping in the wind. It'd stick out like a sore thumb against his jet-black bike, the rev of his engine alone probably sending the poor bee soaring into the clouds.

"I put it in there by accident," you laugh nervously, reaching out for the tiny bee. But his hands clenched tightly around the keychain before you could grab it.

Almost tauntingly he lets it hang in front of your face, staring at you with a half smile.

"On accident?" He hums. "So the keychain that's been on your backpack since the day I met you just somehow found its way into my birthday present?"

You shrug. "I took it off and must've misplaced it."

His eyes glimmer with question but instead of pushing further, he lets it go. He shrugs, "Okay."

Your face falls as he hands the keychain back to you. You squeeze the poor ball of fluff, trying your best not to belittle yourself for being so nervous.

It's for the best, you told yourself. I'm sure he doesn't want some weird form of "staking claim" on his bike. His buddies would make fun of him for it anyway. It's better if it stays with me. Yea. Better.

Hurriedly you try to direct your attention away from your thoughts, shoving the keychain into your pocket.

Your solemn expression brightens into excitement. "I have another surprise!"

You take Bucky's hand, leading him towards your living room which noticeably had a different ambiance than usual. He happily trails behind you, watching your joyous face with adoration.

Every time he's with you his brain goes fuzzy. You allow him to decompress, relax, and think about nothing besides the moment he's in. He craves getting off of work and coming straight to your apartment, still sweaty and dirty from working at the bar, and yet you run up and give him the biggest hug. "Hang on, let me take a shower, honeybee." But you'd ignore him, smashing your lips against his until he gives up rationalizing and allows you to strip him bare.

"I know it's kind of corny and if you'd rather go out and celebrate I completely understand. I just thought this would..."

He can't focus on your words. Not as he's looking at what you had done. Candles lit around the room, the whole place smelling of warm vanilla and cinnamon. Fairy lights twinkled around the ceiling, draping over the windows. The coffee table has been shoved to the side and in its place is a bundle of blankets and floor pillows. Balloons and streamers are scattered across the room, and finally, he zones in on the blue and white cake.

"Happy Birthday James!" it reads. He could tell that you made it because of the bright red heart dotting the i.

He whispers your name in pure disbelief.

"Yes?" You stare up at him with admiration. You truly love this man and want to do everything in your power to show it.

"C'mere, baby." Bucky scoops you up into a hug, hiking you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist. He holds you close against his chest, kissing you sweetly. "You did all this for me?"

You nod, eyes wide as he stares at your lips. A look of pure hunger ravishes you. Bucky presses his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He couldn't recall a time before you when his heart felt as if it would beat out of his chest. Nor a time when his eyes became so glazed over with pure adoration that he swore he'd cry right then and there. He was hesitant about this future, the new world that he found himself forced to live in. But the moment he saw your sweet smile for the first time, all that faded away.

"Thank you, Princess." You whimper as he whispers into your ear, his hands traveling up the Henley that you stole from his drawer. He didn't mind you stealing his clothes. The first time he caught you he handed you a pile of his shirts, begging you to take them and wear them as your own.

He kisses your shoulder softly. "Thank you for being here for me."

"For taking the time to know me and care for me."

His lips press against your neck, a soft groan rumbling within his throat. "I still remember the day we met...felt like the universe was finally giving me my happy ending."

You state his name breathlessly. "I'm supposed to be celebrating you, not the other way around."

He ignores your remark, his eyes narrowing as his brain begins to churn. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"

You respond without hesitation. "With everything."

"And you'll always tell me the truth, right?"

You nod reassuringly.

He releases his grip on your legs, setting you back onto the ground. "So tell me what this is about." His hand shoots into your pocket, pulling out the black and yellow bee. He squeezes it in his hand before laying it out in his palm.

"I told you–"

He raises an eyebrow, "The truth."

You didn't want to come off as too clingy and you didn't want to hear Bucky reject your gift. Thank you baby but...it's a little childish. You could hear the words flowing from his lips perfectly. He'd hate it.

"I–"

Bucky pulls you closer. His eyes flooded with warmth. "Please."

"It was for your bike," you whisper. "And before you say anything. I know it's dumb...that's why I took it back."

"My bike?"

You nod wordlessly. "I thought it'd be cute if you had a little piece of me wherever you go. But the more I thought about it the more I realized how stupid it'd probably look. I mean...none of the other guys have–"

Bucky cuts you off, lifting you off the ground and back into his arms. "Oh, baby...is this what you were hiding?"

You nod sheepishly. "It's stupid."

He shakes his head. "It's perfect. You're perfect. M'gonna tie this onto it right now, honeybee. The guys are going to be so fucking jealous when they see what you got me."

Your lips broaden into a smile. "Really?"

Bucky hugs you tightly, his hand caressing your head against his shoulder. "Gotta let the whole world know I've got the most thoughtful, gorgeous person by my side. M'never taking it off, baby. It goes where I go now."

You squeal as he races into the garage with you in his arms, flicking the lights on and heading towards his bike. He sets you down gently, making a show of the keychain in his hand before attaching it to his key ring. Happily, he throws his leg over the bike, twisting the ignition. The bike roars to life and the sight of your bright yellow bee against the black exterior makes you burst out into laughter.

Bucky grins. "See? It's perfect, baby. Told you."

[lilithandherharlots]

Too shy to tell you

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

Miguel hides your heals in hopes of making you forget you ever owned a pair...he confesses about his theft during a hot and heavy night of sex.

Warnings: This might be interpreted as possessive or an unhealthy bond. Though its supposed to be just a very shy and respectful Miguel who let's loose during sex.:]

Authors note: I am not a writer!! This is my first time righting fanfic.. like.. ever!!! So don't attack me. Though honest, constructive criticism is something that I would love to hear. Sorry if there are spelling mistakes. Also, I don't know how to put proper description..... enjoy!!!!

:::

"Miggy?" I call out to my boyfriend who's currently towering over the coffee machine, waiting for it to brew.

"Yes, my love?" He responds with a look over his shoulder.

"Have you seen my black pointed heals? I can't seem to find them."

"No. Have you checked by the door?" He was lying.

He was lying. He was lying, and he didn't feel bad about it. The truth was he had stuffed them in the highest cupboard of the laundry room. He knew you couldn't reach it. He liked it that way. He couldn't let you open it since he had stuffed at least 4 pairs of heals in there.

"No miggy, they aren't here." You say after checking everywhere by the front door.

"Idk what to say, baby... we have to leave soon. Just throw on a different pair and I'll buy you some new ones later."

He was a liar... and he was damn good at it... until he wasn't.

:::

It was 2am. This insanity started hours ago, but Miguel's stamina wouldn't let down. Your soft moans could fuel him till sun rise, and he would love to do this forever. But unlike him, you have limits. Limits to your ability to stay strong, or at least keep yourself up right. But he doesn't really care. Your begs for a break won't succeed with a constantly starving man like him.

"One more round, please baby... please. I need you." His desperate begs caress your tear stained cheeks as he whispers them softly, leaning over you and filling you with sloppy thrust.

"Miguel- please.. It's too much.." You whine as you try to pull away, gripping desperately onto the sheets.

"Last one.... I promise..." he lies.

He said the same thing the last 4 rounds. If he could have it his way he'd continue. But he knew you couldn't keep going for much longer, so he used this opportunity to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say otherwise.

"I lied..." he confesses. Watching your tits bounce with every rough trust, keeping himself busy while you tried to form a reply. It took you a while, but you managed to let out a soft hum, waiting for him to explain himself further.

"I took them. Your heels.. I fucking hate those things.." he thrust get faster as he says it. Hoping to make your brain foggy enough to not remember his confessions in the morning.

"I like your height, so why do you wear those weird things?" His heart felt lighter as he told you.

"I like that your height forces you to get on your tippy toes every time you want a kiss from me.. and even then, I have to bend over to reach you.... I like that you rely on me to reach those high shelves. Every time you ask me, you grow as red as a rose...."

You can feel his movements speed up. You can barely hear him... your mind fuzzy from pleasure. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin felt like white noise at this point. The dim shadow of his frame covering you completely.

"You're so small under me.. your body falls any way I bend it..." At his point, he was just speaking the first thing to cross his mind.

You didn't hear him, and he knew it. Seconds later, you feel his weight shift, the mattress by your head sinking under his heavy hand as he leaned in and whispered.

"Please don't take that away from me."

His words were demanding. He felt exactly what he said. Even though your eyes were shut tight, you knew his eyes were locked on you. His breath heavy, as if he just confessed a dirty secret. He kinda did...

"Promise me.... Promise me you won't wear them and I'll help you cum."

As tired as you were. You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. So you give in.

"F-fine... I promise."

"You promise what?" He smirked hearing your whiney voice.

"I promise I won't wear the heels!!"

The pleasure he got from you saying that was immense. He shifted his weight once more as he changed your position like a marionette doll. Spreading your legs apart. His hands wrapped around your thighs, and his claws dug into your skin. The stinging pain of it was a wake-up call, causing you to gasp for air.

This position caused him to go deeper. The sticky mess from your previous rounds was being pushed out of your aching hole. The sound of his hips hitting your ass grew louder with every precise thrust. They got louder and louder until they stopped. Your thighs had clenched closed as you hit that high you were chasing. And you took him with you. Tightening around his pulsing cock in a way that made him fill you to the brim once more.

He watched your body shake. Your hips jerking forward. He would usually take that as his sign to keep going, but your fucked out face was telling him you couldn't take another thrust.

"You did great my love..... my little angel~" He cooed gentle praises as he rubbed your claw marked thighs.

"I'll buy you the cutest flats."

:::

A thing he didn't know.. is that you lied, too. His secret cupboard was emptied, and your heal collection was restored... and yes.. he pouted in silence.

The end