#pushing me to try and believe that i can do this stuff but i feel like they wont understand the sort of like.mental block im struggling wit

[whoops-all-jennas]

We'll Meet Again - w.a.

Wednesday Addams x witch!reader

Summary: While exploring what remains of the meeting house, Wednesday discovers that you and her were destined to meet.

a/n: I'm mostly writing this to see how I feel about an idea for a longer fic, so I guess see this as a potential preview :)

Warnings: Violence, Death, Small mentions of blood

The sound of Wednesday's and your footsteps echo among the trees of the forest, the leaves having beautiful shades of yellow, red, and orange.

You both are following the instructions Tyler gave you to find the old meeting house. Well, more like you're following Wednesday, but that's what's expected.

You always followed Wednesday around like a lost puppy, but you weren't ashamed about it and Wednesday didn't seem to mind too much either.

When you both approach the building it's pretty much nothing but ruins of what it use to be, like Tyler said.

You hated him ever since what he did to Xavier, but now there's a new feeling. You can't exactly place it, but it's the strongest whenever he looks at Wednesday with that stupid look on his face.

Like she is the night sky and he is a kid fascinated by space.

You wonder if you look at Wednesday the same way, but you get brought out of your thoughts when you hear a voice.

"I expected more too." Wednesday says looking down at Thing.

"What are you doing here little girl?" A man with a scruffy white beard and layers of rough clothes appears from one of the corners.

"Use the words 'little' and 'girl' to address me again and I can't guarantee your safety."

"This is my place, get out!" The man shouts towards you both.

"Y/n a hand here." Wednesday looks at you with an expecting look on her face before you pull out your wand and point it towards his pants near his feet.

"Ignis Illusio." The pants near his shoes catch on fire, startling the man.

He jumps trying to the pat the fire out, making noises of panic while running out of the building. Ignis Illusio, or fire illusion, is a harmless charm that merely creates the illusion of a fire.

Wednesday immediately starts looking around again. "There's nothing here."

"What if you just started touching stuff? see if you can activate a vision or something?" You suggest looking around not really expecting to find much.

"My visions happen spontaneously, I don't believe that would work." You're admiring the sound of her voice before you see Thing tapping on the ground.

"I would rather dye my hair pink than ask my mother for advice." You try to hold back your smile at the idea of Wednesday with pink hair.

Thing gestures back to your idea of touching stuff in hopes of triggering a vision.

"You want me to prove it to you?"

Wednesday places her hand on a wooden beam.

"No."

She continues and places her hands on the mantle of a fireplace.

"Nothing."

She starts to approach an empty Taco Bell bag.

"Wends, I think we get it." You say as she grabs the bag, giving you a look for referring to her with a nickname.

"I bet this one will give us some insight." She holds the bag in front of her and throws her head back, pretending to have a vision, before dropping the bag to the ground. She walks past you and, like usual, you start following her again.

"My visions are as predictable as shark attacks" You hear her mutter to herself before grabbing the handle to the entrance and proceeding to throw her head back, actually entering a vision this time.

"Wednesday!" You shout before you go to catch her.

-

Wednesday's surroundings suddenly change as she stumbles to the ground. She hears people chanting phrases like "Burn her!" and "Devil spawn!"

She looks to the side and sees a crowd of people holding torches, pushing a girl around the center of said crowd.

Wednesday goes behind a barrel to watch from the shadows.

A pilgrim with a staff walks through the crowd. "Goody Addams!" He shouts, bringing everyone's attention to him, the crowd becoming quiet.

"You have been judged before God and found guilty." Wednesday looks on in curiosity, trying to remember every detail.

"You are a witch, a sorceress, Lucifer's mistress herself. For your sins, you will burn this night, and suffer the flames of eternal hellfire."

"I am innocent." Goody looks up towards Joseph as she is on the ground. "It is you, Joseph Crackstone, that should be tried."

Wednesday looks at Joseph Crackstone, now having an actual face to name.

"We were here before you, living in harmony with nature and the native folk. But you have stolen the land, slaughtered the innocent! you have robbed us of our peaceful spirit!"

Goody, hiding a blade, quietly draws it to her side where no one can see it. "You are the true monster, all of you!"

Goody quickly stands, slashing the knife to Joseph's face, blood trickling down his face. The crowd grabs Goody by her arms in shock.

"The Devil ne'er sent such a demon." Joseph exclaims, slapping Goody with the back of his hand, the crowd cheering.

"And I will send you back!" The crowd starts pushing Goody towards the meeting house, Goody struggles to escape their grasp

"No!" Goody exclaims before she is thrown into the meeting house.

Wednesday manages to sneak in before the doors are locked shut.

"Elsie!" Goody calls out while running towards a girl that looks exactly like you, rattling the chains that bind you to floor desperately.

"Goody please, listen. This is my time, but it doesn't have to be our last time seeing one and other." Elsie says desperately to Goody, grabbing her attention.

"I need a string, any string please!" Goody, without hesitation, rips at a heam in her clothes and rips it into a long string.

"Take my hand, wrap the string around our hands." Goody looks Elsie in the eyes with fear as they're interrupted.

"Set it ablaze!" is heard from outside as the sound of fire is heard and the sight on the walls. Goody looking towards where the words were coming from before being brought back by Elsie

"Hurry please! I can't imagine another life without you!" Elsie cries with desperation. Goody, without hesitation, interlocks her open hand around Elsie's, wrapping the black string around the two.

Elsie closes her eyes and is silent for a moment to focus while Goody looks at her face, not knowing what's happening.

"Haec chorda semper nos alliget." Elsie starts chanting the incantations with fear in her voice, the string is starting to illuminate a red light, brighter and brighter.

"Quantumvis implicitum vel edoctum, rursus se invicem inveniemus." Elsie finishes the incantation with a smile and tears falling down her face.

The string is the brightest it's been before it embeds itself into their skin, soon disappearing. "We will meet again I promise Goody." Elsie says with a painful, yet hopeful smile.

"It may be in a different form, or a different time, but we will meet again."

"I mustn't leave you here still" Goody desperately pulls on the chains on Elsie's wrist, she can't imagine life without her either.

"You must, avenge us Goody. You're the only one!" Elsie cries. "Go!" Goody grabs her face and their lips touch for their final kiss, tears streaming down their faces.

"I love you." Goody says with glossy eyes, pain lacing her voice, before going to the fireplace to hide under a trapdoor.

"I love you too." Elsie says to herself her final words, with the same hopeful smile, waiting for the day they'll again meet.

Wednesday feels like she's moving backwards while staying in place until everything goes black.

-

Wednesday abruptly sits up, waking up to the sound of rain.

She quickly acknowledges you over her with your wand out, casting a barrier above her acting as an umbrella.

"Y/n, I saw her! The girl from my visions." Wednesday says while looking into your eyes.

There's something new in Wednesday's eyes that weren't there before, some sort of softness.

"Her name is Goody Addams, and I believe she's my ancestor from 400 years ago." You look at her with the same softness.

"Was there anything else in the vision?" You ask before you're interrupted by a sound from outside the ruins of the meeting house.

Wednesday stands up, approaching the wall, with you behind her still providing safety from the rain.

"Must've been the man from earlier."

The eye of the monster peers through the hole. Pupil unnaturally dilated and filled with bloodlust.

You grab Wednesday by the arm, pulling her back as the monster runs away. "Come on Wednesday we have to go!" You say while grabbing her bag after Thing enters it, handing Wednesday her bag with your trembling hand.

You're both running in the rain, mud splashing with every step, covering each other's clothes. Wednesday slows down after seeing unnatural foot prints.

You follow her as she follows the prints as they turn into human ones.

"The monster's human."

Wednesday says before turning around to you as you go to grab your phone to take pictures as evidence, accidentally dropping it on the ground causing the lens to be covered in mud.

"Shit." You exclaim to yourself, trying to clean it as fast as you can. You both hear footsteps approaching.

"What the hell are you doing?" The voice of Xavier cuts through the air.

You and Xavier are friends, but things have been different since Wednesday transferred.

He looks at her the same way Tyler does and you don't like that. "I was following the monster."

"You saw it? Xavier says with a hint of fear in his voice. "Its here? Do you have a death wish or something?"

You find your way into the conversation. "And what exactly are you doing here?"

You hate accusing your friend of being a bloodthirsty monster, but him being here is just too suspicious.

"I overheard you say you're going to the old meeting house, I guess its lucky I showed up when I did."

"I did learn one thing, the monster is human. We saw the monster footprints turn into human ones." Wednesday says after you finish getting the mud off the lens of your phone as you go to take a picture of the footprints.

"Shit." You say interrupting their conversation and they both look towards you, holding your phone sideways. "The footprints are gone."

Xavier scoffs before Wednesday looks back at him. "I know what I saw." Wednesday looks disapprovingly at Xavier, realizing she doesn't need to prove him anything, so she turns around and keeps walking.

You follow her as you both leave Xavier where he is as he stands there awkwardly.

"Did you learn anything else from the vision?" You ask again, after you were interrupted last time.

Wednesday glances at you for a second, analyzing your face. "I learned Joseph Crackstone put all of the outcasts into the meeting house and burned them alive."

You look at her with slight shock, but also expected a crazy answer like that. "I can't believe this town is putting up a statue of him knowing his history." You say trying to continue the conversation, Wednesday doesn't respond.

"Was there anything else Wends?" You ask, expecting a negative reaction to referring to her with a nickname, surprised when you don't receive a disapprovingly look.

Wednesday is silent for a few seconds before glancing at you again. "No, that's all." Wednesday starts to walk a little faster.

You haven't known Wednesday long, but you are starting to learn her tells and you can tell she's lying.

You don't pry because another thing you know about her is she's stubborn, and if she doesn't want you knowing something she won't tell you.

The rain starts to slow down as you both continue walking towards Jericho, your clothes muddy and dirty from the rain.

The ceremony for Crackstone's Statue is soon, which you are not excited about after hearing his true history.

You take a look at Wednesday's face and it has a devious smile, the kind she has when she has a plan that's about to go into motion. Her walking speeds up yet again as you struggle to keep up.

a/n: hii I hope you guys enjoyed this potential preview. I'm not really at a point to say if this will get a story or not I don't know if I have the determination to write a longer fic. if I do make it, it's going to cover the entirety of s1 of Wednesday. but I guess we'll find out soonish when I finally make a decision :p

[lemongogo]

oo u want 2 draw soo bad..

[starfilledsky2810]

damn I yap a lot

tldr; im alive, sadly im still on hiatus, other stuff is fine now I just have new [physical] problems, you'll know when I'm fully back (give it another couple months) and comfortable, I'm in a [technically well-over] 3-month long ongoing depressive episode [not tryna do trauma olympics or make anyone feel bad btw it's all chill]

so sorry if I've left you hanging [with art or smth], I'll get to it in time, I promise [I may have unwillingly forgotten, likely not but there's a chance]

Hey, I'm alive, I have been for the.. almost 6 months I've been gone. Holy shit, I didn't even realise that it's been that long. I figured I should at least say something in case anyone is worried or wondering even though everything isn't solved yet, so, here. [under the read more so it's not flooding or anything]

Also, I figure I should apologise for venting on main and just leaving it up - this is all going to stay up because I need to keep it somewhere to aid with my memory issues - but, still, must've been a little weird

Absolutely not a good time to say all this [for me bc I haven't thought this message through] but I'm kinda half-back, just on hiatus from socials due to declining physical health. Really badly declining, I need help honestly

Originally, as you know, I was gone because I had a really bad fall out with my mother, but things pertaining to that have been solved now [except me not feeling 100% safe and trusting to my mother, that will never change. She's tried hard, I just wish I could find her reliable emotionally as well]. It's just that, since then, basically, all these physical problems that I don't understand have been royally fucking me up and messing with my mental too. It's messed with everything I love. I don't know what to do anymore.

Oh wait, where I was actually going with this, so

OK nvm I forgot but you'll see me around bc I've been talking to certain people trying to pretend like nothing's happened and I've made the kinda-silly decision to not fully come off hiatus or talk to other certain people before I'm okay again.

[lilgynt]

i am like wildly overestimating how well i could defend myself with like no self defense training with or without weapons on my person but id prefer that over thinking i cant like. build up enough strength to overpower someone or be scared to go to places alone

[ame-to-ame]

the thing abt btr is i really wanna see more characterization/ ixn but i don't think anything i write will be able to capture the essence of the source material :(

[nereidprinc3ss]

be my angel

in which BAU fem!reader was injured on the job, but is refusing painkillers at the hospital. spencer thinks he knows why.

fluff (+a little angst) warnings/tags: established relationship, hospital stuff, reader got beat up by an unsub, discussions of spencer's past addiction, mentions of period cramps, reader ends up being administered some sort of painkiller a/n: another draft i found in my literal hundreds of pages of abandoned wips and fixed up cause it's cute, I hope you like!!!

Spencer is tearing through the hospital. They all keep saying you’re going to be okay, but what does that even mean? Why is nobody telling him anything? He’s not even sure he heard what the orderly at the front desk said, but his feet are carrying him with a strident purpose through the winding white halls, so he has to assume he at least subconsciously knows where he’s going. 

Finally he spots Penelope, a beacon in her candy-colored clothing, speaking to a doctor in hushed tones. Penelope sees him approaching and turns away from the doctor, looking harried and exhausted. 

“Is she okay? What happened?” Spencer demands, before either of the others can say a word. 

“She’s okay,” the doctor assures. “She was beat up pretty bad—concussion, broken ribs, some bruising that looks worse than it is. There was a clean shot through her arm, but—” 

His blood runs cold. Nobody told him you were shot. Why had nobody told him you were shot? 

“I need to see her.” 

The doctor frowns, glancing between the two agents. 

“I’m sorry, are you her spouse?” 

“Yes. No, not yet, I just—I need to see her, please. Now.” 

“Sir, unless she—” 

“Just let him see her!” Penelope practically yells. “She wants him here, believe me.”  

The doctor clenches her jaw and scribbles something on her clipboard. 

“Okay. Maybe you can try to convince her to accept some painkillers.” 

Spencer’s frown deepens. 

“She’s refusing pain management?” 

“We gave her as much ibuprofen as we could, but she refused anything stronger than that. She has to be in a lot of pain right now, and there’s no background of addiction.” 

“I’ll talk to her,” Spencer says, already twisting the silver door handle. He has a sneaking suspicion as to why you denied pain treatment, and it makes him feel incredibly guilty. More than he already did, after this entire debacle. 

The sight of you, bloodied and bruised and obviously suffering has his heart splintering right down the middle. Whatever meager semblance of a smile he can scrounge up and offer is reflected back to him on you—which only makes him feel worse. As always, you’re putting on a brave face. 

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly as he closes the door behind him. 

“Hi,” you croak. “How do I look?” 

He approaches, sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing your hair away from your face. 

“How do you feel? The doctor told me you wouldn’t accept pain medication,” he murmurs. 

You sniff. 

“I feel okay. Did she tell you it’s not as bad as it looks?” 

But your voice is so small, so wavery and weak, that he knows you’re lying. 

“Sweetheart...” 

You’ve been holding it together since the unsub beat you nearly unconscious. You held it together as he ran away, even got a couple shots in before he turned around and returned fire. You held it together while you sat against the dirty truck, bleeding out, not sure if your team was coming, and you held it together in the ambulance, and for the past thirty minutes in this hospital bed. But all it takes is one gentle word from Spencer, with that concerned, solicitous look in his eye, and the floodgates are opening. Tears spring up in your eyes and begin silently falling down your dirtied cheeks. 

“It’s okay!” you attempt to reassure him, affecting cheeriness even through the tears. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine!” 

He says your name soft and low and he tries his best to keep his tone even though he is liable to burst into tears or start yelling at someone (not you) at any minute.  

“I know that’s not true. You have broken ribs and a gunshot wound. I know how badly it hurts to breathe and how it feels every time you move your arm. That is too much damage for over-the-counter anti-inflammatories. You need real analgesics.” 

“I don’t,” you whisper. Your teary eyes make his whole body ache. He squeezes your hand—the one that’s not connected to the wounded arm. 

“Because of me?” You stare at him blankly, as if you’re shocked he was able to put two and two together. “I promise you don’t need to worry about that.” 

You sniffle. 

“But what if—what if they give me the drugs and I get all weird and it’s, it’s like... triggering for you, or something?” 

“It’s been a really long time since I’ve worried about that. I’d rather see you a little tired and out of it than in extreme pain and trying to pretend you’re not. You getting the pain relief you need in a medical emergency is not going to make me relapse.” 

“But I really think I could go without,” you begin, voice already tightening around a cry. “I’ve—I’ve had period cramps that were worse than this.” 

Despite himself, he chuckles. Goes back to stroking your hair. 

The laughter fades quickly. All the pain you’re in is so evident in your eyes. The dissociative glassiness, the tension around them, the bloodshot quality—he's seen it many times before, and he hates it on you. 

“Will you please tell them you’re ready to take something? They won’t give you Dilaudid. It’s too strong. They’ll give you something that I’d have no interest in anyway.” 

“Not funny,” you whisper. 

He ignores this. 

“Will you let me call the doctor back in?” 

You take a deep, shuddering breath—or at least, you try to, before you’re loosing a sharp squeak that deteriorates into a little sob. The ribs. 

Spencer doesn’t bother asking again, just gets up and begins to walk away as efficiently as his legs will carry him. You need painkillers and he thinks it might be fastest to just fetch the doctor or a nurse from the hallway. 

“Wait,” you plead.  

He stops. Reminds himself that you need him right now—not his medical opinions. Spencer turns back around and approaches again, crouching by your bedside this time. 

“What, honey?” 

“I don’t...” 

You trail off, overcome by something like fear in the width and shine and nervous dart of your eyes. Spencer knows, everybody at the BAU knows, that showing fear to a serial killer will get you killed that much quicker. During your time alone with the unsub, which is a can of worms Spencer literally cannot psychologically open right now, you had to put on your bravest face. Even while you were being beaten within an inch of your life. Even when you thought you were going to die, alone, and that your team—that Spencer—wasn't coming back for you. Because that’s the kind of thing you have to do to cope when you’re at rock bottom. But you were terrified. Petrified. That doesn’t just go away—and Spencer knows it’ll be bumping against the surface until it finds a way out.  

He has to remember that just because you look unafraid and you act unafraid doesn’t mean you aren’t. 

“You were so brave,” he manages after he’s sure he can say it without incident, swiping moisture from your cheek. “You did everything exactly right.” 

“I know,” you whisper, chin trembling. Spencer knows you, and he knows this kind of trauma well enough to know that you’re thinking, I did everything exactly right, and it wasn’t enough. I did everything exactly right and this is what I have to show for it. 

“But nobody needs you to act like it wasn’t hard, okay? You don’t need to pretend like it doesn’t hurt. You were so, so brave, angel. You don’t have to be brave anymore.” 

Your eyes squeeze shut, sending a new wash of tears over your tacky cheeks. A few moments pass. You say nothing. He hopes you’re not going to hide away inside yourself like he did. 

“Will you please, please, let me get the doctor?” 

At least this time you don’t immediately say no. 

“Will you come right back?” 

“Of course.” 

Finally, you nod your hesitant assent, and Spencer presses a careful kiss to your forehead. 

A few minutes later, the doctor—who was shocked that Spencer was able to so quickly change your very made-up mind—is back, and so is Spencer. It only takes a moment for them to determine the best course of action for you and soon the fist around his heart is loosening its grip as he watches some of the agony melting from your eyes. 

“Better?” he murmurs as the nurse who’d administered the drugs leaves, fanning his thumb over the underside of your wrist. You nod, already appearing sleepy. 

“Can you lie down with me?” 

He smiles at the way your words slip against each other, simply relieved that you’re able to relax and no longer in extreme pain. 

“Hospital beds aren’t rated for two people.” 

“Spencer.” 

It’s enough for him to climb onto the bed—not that he was ever going to deny you what you wanted to begin with. The fit isn’t exactly perfect—he's a bit too long and combined the two of you are just slightly too wide—but with some finagling it’s comfortable enough. Spencer has slipped his arm underneath you and your head is on his shoulder and he’s so glad to have you in his arms and so grateful that you’re okay he does something almost like praying in his head as he kisses your hair. 

“Hey. Ask me about my bruises.” 

“Why? Do they still hurt?” 

“You should see the other guy.” 

It’s dumb and it doesn’t make sense because you didn’t bother waiting for him to actually set the joke up—but he smiles dryly nonetheless. 

“Can you please give me... I don’t know, 36 hours before you start making jokes about almost dying?” 

“Clock starts now.” 

“Thank you.” He feels your lips curve into a half-conscious smile against his neck. It’s a wonderful feeling. “How are your ribs? Breathing feels okay?” 

“Mhm. Love breathing.” 

“Mhm. And your arm?” 

“Like I got shot.” 

“Well, that’s pretty much unavoidable. But not as bad as before, right?” 

“Right. Spencer?” 

“What, my love?” 

A little pleased puff of air warms his shoulder. He carefully rubs your hip. 

“Will you tell me how brave I was again?” 

He takes a silent, very deep breath.  

“You were incredibly brave. And smart, too. I’m really proud of you for how you handled that situation. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, but I don’t think anyone could have handled it better. Especially when you chose to stay put by the truck, instead of chase him. I know that wasn’t what you wanted to do, but it was the right choice.” 

“I thought you guys maybe weren’t coming,” you murmur, no hint of sadness in your smushed, flat voice—like you’re barely awake. “I waited half an hour and I thought you weren’t gonna find me.” 

“Angel, I will always find you. We didn’t stop looking even once, as soon as we noticed you were gone. I’m just sorry I wasn’t with Emily and Rossi when they got to you.” 

“’Nelope told me... she told me you got really angry and scary.” 

He stares at the ceiling and considers this. 

“I could see... how what I was feeling would be interpreted that way. I was pretty angry. But not at Penelope or any of them. I was mostly just scared.” 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whisper. “And I’m sorry if I made you mad.” 

“You did not. I wasn’t mad at you. And it’s not your fault that I got scared. You were just trying to do your job. None of this is your fault.” 

“She also said that you said fuck like... three times.” 

“Mm... doesn’t sound like me,” he evades. You giggle, and the sound is more a relief than any drug he could take.

“No, seriously, I’m so mad I missed it. I love hearing you swear. Tell me what you said—and you have to cause I’m all messed up so I get whatever I want.” 

He sighs in mock annoyance. 

“Well, she’s wrong. I only said fuck once. I used fucking as an intensifier twice.” 

You hum. 

“Sexy.” 

“Alright,” Spencer laughs, flushing as he moves his hand to your shoulder. “Go to sleep before I tell them to up your dosage, weirdo.” 

[satorusugurugurl]

Weak Spot

Summary: Cuddling on the couch leads to a fascinating discovery.

Pairing: Choso Kamo, Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU), Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Fushiguro Toji, FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,141

Warning: horny reader, whimpers, moans, trying to stay quiet, accidental orgasms, tickling, roughhousing, foot massages, foot play if you squint?? Hair pulling, public smexy stuff, hugging, of weak spots

A/N: Just a quick series of blurbs with JJK men finding your weak spots thank you for all of your suggestions!!

**MDNI!!**

Choso Kamo:

The evening you had started as a quiet one. You and Chosi sat on your couch watching some rom-com you had picked out. You’re fully invested in the film, lying on your side munching away at popcorn as Choso lies behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist. His eyes are heavy, and he drops his head to your shoulder with a tired hum.

There was nothing out of the ordinary when he did that. Resting your chins on each other's shoulders was something both of you often did—sort of a silent way of expressing the love the two of you shared. But, the second Choso rubs his chin over the spot where your shoulder meets your neck, you cry out, covering your mouth.

At first, your boyfriend freezes up, eyes widening at the sound leaving your lips. For a moment, Choso thought that maybe he had hurt you, but as he felt your trembling against him, he knew that’s not the case. You moaned so loud like you did when he would fuck you. That reaction made him move his chin harder over the same spot. The moan that leaves your mouth has his cock twitching in his pants as your body rocks back.

“C-Cho—w-waah!” He rubs harder, his large hands leaving your waist to cup your breasts gently. “Ah—fuck, nnngh.” The way your body jerks as if you’re trying to escape his grasp has him groping you harder, pulling your back into his chest. “Choso, h-hold on a second baby.”

“I found it.” His gruff voice whispers over your neck, causing goose flesh to rise over your arms. “Found your weak spot.”

“B-Babe—ah~ wait~!” Your boyfriend's hands grope your hips, his chin digging into your sweet spot as his hips rut against your ass. “C-Cho-Choso.”

Your boyfriend hums in approval. Hearing you get off without him even touching you between the legs fills him with a certain sense of pride. The strange new feeling has him rubbing circles into your sweet spot with the tip of his chin. The pressure, gentle rubbing, and the feeling of his hot breath against your skin have you pressing your thighs together.

You were crying out softly, whimpering into the back of your hand. The sensations and stimulation to your neck had a pleasure twisting in your lower abdomen, your underwear soaked. All of it felt so good, but it wasn’t enough to send you over the edge just yet; it was the feeling of Choso’s hardening erection that had you teetering on the edge like you were a tightrope walker.

“Haaah~ oh fuck.”

Chiso chuckled deeply, “Yeah, you want more.” He digs his chin into that spot on your neck, and you can even form words.

“Ngggh! Hah! Fuck~ c-cumming—c-cumm—” One of your hands reached back, turning at his dark locks of hair, while the other clawed at the cushion of the couch as your orgasm hit you.

Your boyfriend opens his mouth to speak but can’t even begin to find the words to say. His focus is drawn to you. You’re shaking; legs pressed firmly together as you tug a bit harder on his hair with each wave of the orgasm you ride.

“O-Oh fuck,” you whine, feeling his breathing heavily, “I-I can’t believe I just—nngh!” Yours flipped so your face is pushed against the sofa, and Choso is scrambling behind your, yanking your sweats down as you feel his hard cock rutting over the curve of your ass.

“So hot; need to feel you do that again, but this time on my cock, okay?” His voice is desperate, shaking, and full of horny desire. “Is that okay, honey?”

“More than okay; give it to me, Cho~!”

Gojo Satoru:

A black blindfold flew past your head as you squeaked, turning the corner into the living room. “I-I said I was sorry!” You squealed happily as your boyfriend followed close behind. “I didn’t know you were ticklish on your ribs! I swear! I promise!!” You don’t even come close to meeting the front door as you’re gently tackled to the soft rug.

“That’s the last time I ever let my infinity down around you!” He playfully growls as he crawls on top of you, fingers wiggling around your face. “In the meantime. I do believe some form of payback is due!”

You can’t protest because his fingers are tickling your sides. “Ah! No! Hahah!” You scream, kicking your legs out as you’re trying to strip his hands from tickling against your rib cage. Every attempt you make to stop him is thwarted as it easily evades your grasp.

Long fingers that you usually love, we’re now you’re the mortal enemy. They move against your cage, tickling every spot that you weren’t sure if Gojo assumed they were or if the bastard was using Six-Eyes to his advantage. Because each time his fingers grazed over your rib cage, which also happened to be your weak spot, you squirmed underneath your boyfriend. You tried to hide the moans with laughter; it was useless because, despite desperately trying to hide them, your squirming legs were all Satoru needed to see.

He kept his fingers moving, tickling you faster, smirking as you bit down on your bottom lip. “Mmmnngh!” your friend is trying to free himself. “Satoru! Stop! Please!” you cried out in between laughs and moans.

“Why?” he cooed with a smirk, “Why do you want me to stop, sweetheart?”

“B-Be—aha!” Your back arched as your mouth dropped. “I-I ah!”

“Is it because you're getting all hot and bothered?”

“No!”

“You’re a liar~”

“Mmmm fuck! Ooooh fuck!” Your chest heaved as you shook underneath him, his hips slotting between yours as the smell of musk and clean linen invaded your senses, making you feel high. Off of the pleasure, the tension, everything just seemed to enhance the pleasure that was pulsating in your pussy. “Fuck!”

“Hehe! Someone’s gettin’ all wet and turned on~!”

“T-Toru!”

“Yeah~? Want me to fu—”

“C-Cumming!”

Your body arched, shaking as your friend clamped your thighs together, but Satoru’s body stopped you from doing so. Just allowing you to kick your legs out, toes curling as you cummed hard. Satoru’s face turned a bright red as he pulled his hands away from your ribs. You lay there on the ground panting heavily, covering your eyes with your forearm, the shame of what just happened fostered inside your chest.

Satoru was silent for the longest moment, his eyes meeting yours as he sputtered and blinked, a trickle of blood running from his nose. “D-Did you just cum?” you could only groan, nodding once.

“T-Tickling my ribs, I-it’s my weak spot ass.”

“O-Oh—” you both sat in silence, “uhm sweetie.”

“Huh?” you pulled your arm away, “what?”

Satoru started tugging your leggings down, panting like a feral animal. “Let me tickle you again with my cock inside of you!” you squeaked as he pounced on you grinding his hips against yours. That night, you both learned that Satoru had a bit of a tickling kink and that you were happy to serve him.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):

“Are you sure about this?” your boyfriend asked gently as he took a marker and marked where your cartilage piercing was going to go.“You're okay with me piercing you?”

“You were perfectly fine piercing me last night.” you waggle your eyebrows at him before taking your bottom lip between your teeth as he deadpans.

“That was with my cock, this is a big ass needle that’s gonna be stabbed through your fucking ear.” He gently holds your earlobe, giving it a gentle tug. “Dor—”

“Mmm!” Your eyes go wide as your hands fly up to cover your mouth. Your earlobe is being held between Sukuna’s thumb and index finger. His eyes are slightly wide as he stares at your ear in stunned silence.

Crimson eyes search your face as if looking for the answer as to why you made such a sexual noise over him, touching your ear. But you don’t say anything, your eyes darting around his workspace at the tattoo shop. Slightly annoyed by your lack of attention, focused on him. Your boyfriend narrows his eyes before giving your earlobe another sharp tug.

“Nnngh!!” you moan into the palms of your hands, trying to silence the noise that threatens to escape.

Noticing that your eyes are still averted from his, Sukuna gently runs his fingers up your ear, caressing it slowly and sensually, as if it was your pussy that he teased and edged the night before. With each stroke of his black, gloved finger, you twitch and turn against his chair, your hands clamping down harder over your mouth.

Your boyfriend stands up, crawling up onto the chair with you, his leg strategically placed on either side of your hips, trapping you underneath the large frame of his body. His eyes darken with lust as he rubs his finger back down to your earlobe slowly back up. The way you arched slightly against the covered black chair had his cock tightening in his pants; his breathing was heavy as he pulled his hand away.

“Fuck,” you gently whisper into the room, finally removing your hands. “Kuna, uhm may—e-eegh!” you get your teeth as your boyfriend leans his tattooed face down, blowing against your sensitive earlobe. The sensation has your eyes rolling back as you moan loudly, not even trying to muffle the sounds. “K-Kuna!” His left gloved hand shoots up, covering your mouth as he takes your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.

Your eyes are all back as you buck your hips upward, searching for something to grind yourself on as pleasure explodes within your abdomen. You’ve always had sensitive ears, but none of your partners in the past have ever played with them before. So for Sukuna to not only massage the sensitive flesh but also take it between his teeth and gently suck on it, you were shocked to be getting off on it.

Here you were, having your boyfriend suckle and nip at your ear as his hand kept clamped over your mouth. Your hands shot up, gripping his black tank top, holding onto the fabric as pleasure rocks through every nerve of your body. A familiar coil tightened in your stomach, and for a second, you panicked before you realized this man, the man that you were falling in love with, was about to make you cum from playing with your ears.

All it takes is a nibble on the sensitive skin, and your eyes are wide as you rock shamelessly into the air. Your orgasm hits you fast and hard, giving you heart palpitations as you grip Sukuna tighter, holding onto him for dear life as you cum in the tattoo shop he works at. Your boyfriend sucks and gently nibbles at your skin. His hand was still firmly against your mouth, silencing the moans and whines threatening to alert his coworkers about what you were up to.

Your boyfriend only removes his hand from your mouth as you gently release your grip on his tank top. Pulling his gloved hand back, he stares down, panting heavily like some rabid animal. The way your breast moves up and down as you gasp for air, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, has him moving before you even think. You follow him with hazy eyes, watching as he rips the gloves off his hands, tossing them in the trash before he locks the door to his office.

“Take off your pants,” he grunts as he undoes the buckle to his belt. “I’m going to fuck you, and then I’m going to pierce both of your ears. And once they’re healed.” He sticks his tongue out, revealing his piercing that glimmers in the lights above. “ I’m gonna run my piercing up and down the sensitive studs that I’m going to put in your ears myself.”

Nanami Kento:

“Oooh, my god, my feet are killing me,” you mutter as you lie on the couch, and your husband sits down next to you, taking your feet gently and placing them in his lap. “Whoever invented high heels needs to be sent to hell.”

Nanami chuckles at his hands, gently moving to massage her clean feet. Both of you had just gotten out of showers and settled onto the couch for a quiet evening after nonstop meetings at the high school. Hair is brushed back, still damp, as his thumbs gently move up and down your feet, causing you to tell your head back and moan.

“Does that feel good?” he gently asked, increasing the pressure against the sole of your foot. You respond with another moan. I suppose I’ll take that as a yes.”

You lay your head back against the throw pillows, losing yourself in your husband’s gentle caresses as he works out the nuts and the sore tendons of your feet. It feels so sinfully good that it has you gently squirming against the couch. But when he gently runs his well-trimmed nails up, scratching the bottom of your foot, you moan. Not in satisfaction of the relief that his fingers bring, but one that is full of sexual desire.

Your hand stops just above the pad of your foot as his eyes slowly turn towards you. Both of you stare at one another in shock. That had never happened before. Nanami had given you plenty of massages in the past, so why was this one different?

“D-Did that hurt?” Kento asks. As he gently begins, he rubs your foot again.

“N-No, it just felt good.”

“Like this?” he continues to need your foot using his thumbs. But you don’t have the same reaction you did before. “Or this?” The second he’s dragging his nails from the tip of your toe down to your heel, pleasure erupts from you. “Oh, that was it.”

“O-Oh, my god!” He does it again and again and again. “K-Kento! Fuck!”

Honey brown eyes, watch as your toes curl with each scratch of his nail. “Huh~ I knew your neck was sensitiv., but this is something I’ve never seen before.” his scratches increase in speed, and his eyes are transfixed on your face, watching as you pant and moan, your back arching as you throw your head back. “If I didn’t know any better, I would assume that you’re about to have an orgasm.”

“Fuuuck~ fuck fuck~ Keeento!” You grab onto the sofa, back arching higher as your pussy begins to pulsate as intense pleasure reaches its peak. “Oh my god! Oooh, my fucking god!!” you scream out loud as you cum hard. You're shaking as you try, pulling your feet out of your husband’s lap only to have him pull them back, his nails scratching harder against the soles of your feet, extending your orgasm and making it all the more intense.

You don’t even have a chance to recover from your surprise orgasm when your husband is pulling you into his lap, making you straddle the hard bulge in his pajama pants. He grabs both sides of your hips and rocks you gently back and forth over his erection. His breath is hot against your mouth before he slams his lips against yours. His tongue doesn’t even ask for permission before sliding it into your mouth. It wraps around your tongue, and the lingering taste of white wine and chocolate dances over your taste buds, making your hips faster against Kento’s.

Your quiet evening wasn't as peaceful as you both had anticipated. But it was an evening that all massages were purely orgasmic.

Geto Suguru:

“Ya’ know, when you texted me at 10:20 at night asking me to come over, I didn’t think it was for this reason.” Suguru chuckles from behind you, twisting different strands of your hair in his hands. “But practicing braiding hair for the girls is kind of hot.”

“The girls have been begging me to do a different hairstyle. I could practice on myself, but it’s easier this way.” His words trail off, and you can’t help but smile at him in the mirror.

“Ah~ you just wanted to see me~!” Suguru’s tanned skin slightly flushed as he pouted. “Oooh baby, it’s okay~!”

“Alright l, alright, that’s enough out of you.” He grumbled, giving one of the sections a harsh tug.

You inhaled sharply, the sound choking out with a moan. Suguru winced, looking into the mirror before you to whisper a rushed apology until he saw the look on your face. Your cheeks were flushed, eyes half-lidded as your hand was over your mouth. Geto stared down at you, eyes wide, as your whole body trembled.

“Did you just moan?”

“N-Nuh-uh-haaaah!” You yelped out a louder moan as Suguru tugged your hair again, harder this time. “Nnngh, oooh god.”

“You did!” He released the three sections of hair before running his fingers through the strands of your hair, gently caressing the crown of your head. You thought you were in the clear, but just as you were about to breathe out in relief, your boyfriend grabbed a handful of your hair, tugging it sharply. That breath of relief turned into a moan so sensual, so pornographic, Suguru tugged again.

“H-Haaah Suguru p-please!” You mewled as you gripped the bathroom sink, “I-I—fuck!”

Your eyes were watching him in the mirror, a sinister smirk on his lips as his eyes trailed up and down your back. Watching how your muscles tensed up with every tug, how goosebumps rose against your skin. Suguru was getting off on the fact you were squirming just like you did when his cock was buried deep inside of you.

“Fuccck, you’re so goddamn fuckin hot!” His hand tugged a handful of hair harder and harder. “You look like you’re in such a euphoric state. Are you seriously getting off on this?”

“I-I—fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.” Your nails scratched over the marble counter as Suguru pulled you up by your hair, bent you over the counter, and his fingers massaged your scalp. “S-Sugu-Suguru~!” You cried out as he pulled your hair back, smirking at you in the mirror.

“Look at yourself, Princess~ look at how turned on you are over me just playing with your hair.” His hot breath blew against your ear. “This is good to know for when I fuck you from behind, yeah? Is your pussy clamping down each time I tug?”

“F-Fuck! Fuuuck!” you grip the edge of the sink harder, your body shaking as your toes curl. “Sugu~!”

“If you beg, I’ll give you what you want.”

“N-No, Sugu, wait pl—”

“Wait~? You don’t want me to fuck you.” A final sharp tug was the last straw. You moaned loudly, eyes shut tight as you creamed your panties. You whispered and whined as you convulsed against the counter. Suguru stood behind you, biting his lip as he watched you unravel from something minuscule.

It was only when your body stopped shaking that Suguru released his grip on your hair. He was beginning to pull down his sweats when you were around, grabbing a handful of his dark, luscious locks and giving it a sharp tug. Suguru let out a moan that was just as pornographic as yours had been as you pulled him down to your height, glaring into his eyes.

“I-If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m gonna tug your hair until you cum in your pants.”

As tempting as your threat was, Suguru would rather not cum in his sweats like a teenager. Instead, he grabbed your hips, whirling you back towards the mirror, and tugged your sweats down along with his own. “Yes, my Princess, as you wish.”

Toji Fushiguro:

You never thought domestic life would be for you in all your years. But when you met Toji, your views changed. Your boyfriend was a single father, and you were absolutely smitten by him. Toji was a bit brash and liked to gamble, but he was incredibly smart and spoiled you rotten. So you had no problem cooking dinner and helping around the house with his help. The longer you were with him, the more you loved it.

The three of you were a family.

Standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner for the three of you had become a nightly routine you adored. You were standing over the kitchen sink, washing the dishes you had soaked for a bit. You had time to kill, seeing that Megumi was finishing up a play date with his friend Yuuji. Yuuji’s dad would walk them home in about an hour and give them more than enough time to prepare dinner and clean the kitchen.

Just as you were finishing the dishes in the sink, large buff arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against a broad chest; the intoxicating smell of amber and driftwood wafted over Toji, buried his face and your neck. It was such a domestic gesture, and it had you weak in the knees.

“Fuck that food smells so good.” He grumbled, hugging you a bit tighter, stealing your breath away. “God, I’m so lucky to have you.” Toji groaned into your ear as he lightened his grip on you before squeezing you again.

The feeling of him robbing himself so tightly around you wasn’t at all painful. Instead, it was the exact opposite. You felt your body burning as he squeezed you tight before releasing you again. The smell of him, the feeling of his arms so muscular wrapped around you, and the slight oxygen deprivation always got you going. It was usually all of those factors individually. But to have them all happen simultaneously while he hugged you so tight, oh God, it got your blood boiling.

“You look so damn cute, too~” You whined in response, lifting a hand, your mouth covering it. “Say, if I bought you a cute little apron, would you wear it for me? Just the apron?” Another squeeze of his big arms had you moaning louder. “Oh, someone likes that idea, don’t they?”

When all you can do is whimper in response, Toji knows there’s more to your arousal than just the prospect of being his little housewife that has you squirming, how your breathing becomes more profound and shallow. It wasn’t just the idea of wearing an apron for him. It was because he had his arms wrapped around you; he pressed you back against his chest while he squeezed and released, constricting his arms around you.

“F-Fuck! Toji, oh God!” You rocked your hips back against his crotch, trying to release some of the building tension in your body. “Fuuuck~!”

Toji smirked, hugging you tighter. “What a kinky little girlfriend I have.” he ran his tongue over his top lip before hugging you even tighter as your body trembled. “Getting off from a hug~ good to know~!” Your boyfriend hugs you again. This time, you gripped the edge of the sink as you tried to warn him. But there was no way you were getting any words out from the pleasure that was rushing. “What ya’ gonna cum~? You’re shaking like you do right before you cum in my mouth.” You somehow managed to nod your head.

“G-Gonna~ gonna!”

“Go on then~ make a mess~”

With one final squeeze, your cummed with a shuttering gasp as your body shook and twitched against him. Your legs clamped tight together as Toji held you as tight as he could against him. His breathing was as ragged as yours as he took in your post-orgasmic appearance. Heavy breathing, flush cheeks, the way sweat beaded at your forehead from the intensity of the pleasure. Seeing you in such a state had him going feral.

“Fuck!” Toji picks you up, pressing you against the refrigerator, your skirt up, tugging your underwear. “We got about l thirty minutes before Meg’s gets home. In those next thirty minutes, I’m gonna make sure to hug you nice and tight, and in exchange, you make sure to hug my cock just tight with your pussy.” He growled into your ear; it was so raw and full of need that you took your bottom lip between your teeth and giggled. You might enjoy being his living girlfriend, but he was just as smitten with you as you were with him.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[luveline]

would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹

You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve. 

“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you. 

“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple. 

“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.” 

You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling. 

“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you. 

You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?” 

“No. They gave me tramadol.” 

Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper. 

Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why. 

The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day. 

“You okay?” 

“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod. 

“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.” 

“I’m your Unit Chief.” 

“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”

He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.” 

You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you. 

You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.” 

“I’ve been busy.” 

“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.” 

“I wish I did something that sensible.” 

You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle. 

“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.” 

His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.” 

“Not enough.” 

“No, I guess not.” 

You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder. 

“It wasn’t purposeful.” 

“No? That’s good.” 

“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.” 

“Morgan’s a big boy.” 

“As opposed to me.” 

“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”

“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.” 

“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.” 

Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess. 

“I don’t like him,” you say. 

“As opposed to me.” 

You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek. 

“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say. 

Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.” 

It’s an obvious lie. 

“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested. 

His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully. 

“You can finally get some rest.” 

He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours. 

[arminsumi]

Warnings : mdni/18+, spanking, overstim, rough sex, some mean gojo, dirty talk, praise, creampie

You tend to forget that Gojo Satoru is the strongest, because when he's around you, he's so gentle and careful. Moving like a cautious cat, kneading your hips tenderly, scooping you into his arms like a baby. Then when the two of you are playfighting, he lets you win for only a finite amount of times because his ego kicks in — he has to remind you of how strong he is, how muscular he is, how swift he is. The fact he can catch your hand with such a speed that it makes you gasp and feel so shocked that you start giggling "That was scary..." which makes him grin down at you.

There are also times when he picks you up and throws you onto the bed for a thorough spanking — he gets jealous, and takes it out on your poor ass. He makes it sting so bad you can hardly count each slap, but he forces you to keep counting. "What number was that baby?" he asks, and if you've forgotten then it's another harsh clap to your cheek. But if you remember, then he rewards you by soothing over your ass and kissing it. If you're apologetic and a good girl, he pushes your thighs apart and eats you out until you see heaven.

But he almost never ends there. He has to pound into you until you weep, to make your pussy mold to the shape of his cock — it's a possessive thing.

"Hold onto me." he commands when he sees you grabbing the pillow instead.

He overstimulates you so much that you squirm away and try to crawl off the edge of the bed, but his hands roughly grab your hips and he jerks you back onto the bed, shoving his cock back into you,

"Stay right there. I'm not done with you yet."

His muscular back arches and his abs tighten as he thrusts in and out, making you babble half-heartedly about how you can't take much more. Just like you, the bed can't handle the sex, either. It shudders and the springs squeak as Gojo Satoru uses just a fraction of his strength to fuck you.

When he finally stuffs you up with a creamy load, he pulls out and his cum goes everywhere. It's a big mess. He spreads your cheeks, thumbing at your pussy hole, and smirks at the gape. "I can't believe you can take so much dick..." he praises, grinning wildly, "You're my little pornstar, baby." he says and taps your sore ass to make it jiggle. But even his light taps are hard, he's just too damn strong.

Big hands massage down your thighs and make you groan in relief — he was pressing his weight onto you earlier, nearly crushing you. Satoru loves to hear you struggle and whimper and gasp under all his muscle.

But the aftercare is immaculate. He gives your body a thorough massage in the bathroom, and scurries off to get you water. Bath time is filled with tender whispers against your ear. Satoru's voice turns soft and praising.

"You're really made for me, hm?"

It's on the tip of his tongue to call you weak, to snarl about your pussy being too tight for him to fuck you. He'd love to taunt you about being weak, he'd get off to it — humiliating your pussy in bed is something he's inching closer towards doing.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 13

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 12 | Series Masterlist | Part 14

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.8k

Chapter Summary: You're on edge, but try to enjoy the day of freedom that Bucky promised you.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, stalking, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

For his part, Bucky behaved once you were back in the shop. He waited patiently while you tried on a couple of the dresses and didn't attempt to go back into the dressing room or force you to come out and model them. You were thankful for that since there wasn't anything to jam under the doorknob and you didn’t need him to corner you again. Who knew how much he’d push the envelope the next time.

Before you went to the counter, you grabbed a cardigan from a rack. “This, too, please” you said, handing it to the associate. It would be nice to have in case you got cold at the vineyard.

“Of course,” she smiled, ringing it up with the other garments and accessories selected.

Bucky eyed the cardigan with a small smile. “That looks warm and comfortable,” he commented, sliding a card across the counter. “I should’ve remembered that,” he said almost to himself.

“Well, part of the fun of shopping is picking out your own stuff,” you said, careful to leave the bite out of your voice.

“And part of the fun of gift giving is surprising the receiver,” he said, kissing your temple. “I was trying to surprise you by having stuff you liked ready,” he added in a smaller voice.

You didn’t miss the glance from the associate, making you feel as small as Bucky’s voice sounded. Of course, he made himself look like a doting boyfriend and your comment made you sound ungrateful. “It was a really nice gesture and I loved the dresses selected. Thank you,” you said. He showed that he knew and liked your taste like a caring partner would do. “But maybe during the next shopping trip I can go through and pick everything out myself?” It would give you some sort of autonomy.

“Sure,” he smiled, likely happy at the prospect of there being a next time.

You mumbled a thank you to the associate before Bucky carried everything out of the store, not at all ashamed to carry stuff for his girl. Another doting boyfriend gesture. He even refused to let Ray take the garments from him when he held the door open. Nor did he let his bodyguard help you into the car.

“I didn’t spoil you as much as I wanted to, but it’s a start,” he smiled once you both got settled in.

“Yeah, it is,” you said. In your eyes, he spoiled you plenty. “I really do appreciate it. I’m not used to someone wanting to spoil me.”

Past boyfriends didn't care enough to do nice things like that. The last girl Bucky dated tried to steal from him, but did she demand shopping trips? Maybe he was simply happy to spend his money beyond you being his girl because you didn't expect or ask him to.

“You deserve it,” he said, sighing as he raked a hand through his hair. “I can't believe I won't see you tomorrow.”

You glanced at him and noted the droop in his shoulders. He may have dismissed your feelings from time to time, but it wouldn't help you to dismiss his when you were stuck in a vehicle with him. “I know it'll be tough, but it’s one day and you do have a photo of me to look at if you’ll miss me.” Who knew what else he had since your place was bugged.

“I do. I’ll probably look at it all day between work and other stuff,” he smiled, tilting his head toward you. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Depends on the favor,” you replied. God, did he want you to send him an explicit photo of you or something?

He made sure he was looking you in the eye. “Don’t run tomorrow. Don't leave the city,” he stated.

You blinked. The man wasn’t psychic, so how could he possibly know you thought of doing that very thing? At least, to get out of the city earlier than the girls trip. Was your poker face that terrible? “You think I’ll run?”

“I think part of you wants to try. Not even because you want freedom, but because you want to rebel against me and take back some control,” he replied. For his part, he didn’t sound upset. “But I think you and I both know you either won’t get far or you won’t end up running at all.”

You opened and shut your mouth. You wanted to. God knows you wanted to get far away. “Do you think I’m a coward if I don’t try?” You weren’t sure why his opinion on the situation mattered since he was the cause of it all.

“I think you’re one of the furthest things from a coward. Given the circumstances, you’ve been extremely brave,” he said. You didn't feel brave, but it was kind of nice to hear. “But one other favor? Don’t tear your place apart looking for the bugs either.”

You practically threw your arms up in the air, his compliment of you forgotten. The man was beyond exasperating. “Oh, come on! You’re giving me the day to myself, but I still have to stay in the city and I can’t get rid of the bugs?” You smacked his chest before you could stop yourself. “Your compromises suck, do you know that?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Did you… did you just say my compromises suck?” He threw his head back, his laughter filling the car. “Your insults are just as adorable as you are.”

“Yes, that’s what I said and my insults aren’t adorable,” you said, your face hot when he kept chuckling. “And I swear if you find some sort of loophole to see me tomorrow, I will go to your penthouse and throw out all of your expensive suits for being a liar.”

That cut his laughter short, but his eyes still sparkled with amusement. “Now we both know you’d donate my clothes before throwing them out. At least make your threat credible.”

“I… Okay, no, I wouldn't throw them away,” you said, smacking his chest once more when he looked like he’d laugh again. “But you may be onto something with donating. Maybe I'll donate your first editions to someone, too.”

“You wouldn't.” He tapped the tip of your nose, sending more fire through your veins. “You’re not the vengeful type.”

Grabbing his wrist before he could pull away, you lightly bit his finger and drew a sharp gasp from him. “I might just surprise us both.”

Heat crept up your neck at the look in his eyes. “I have no doubt about that,” he whispered, holding the back of your head and closing the gap between you.

His lips were persistent against yours, but still soft. So was his tongue invading your mouth. You put a hand against his chest as he pushed further into your space, but he was an immovable wall. You should've known he’d take your action as foreplay. He would twist anything and everything you did in his favor.

His scruff tickled your cheek as you turned your head away to breathe, but the intake of air didn't slow your heart. “Did you know I’ve dreamt of moments like this with you?” His hand cupped your breast through your top as you shuddered. You were trapped once again, just like in the shop. “You riled up or flustered and you making me laugh? Just… little moments.”

“No,” you whispered, his thumb brushing your nipple until it hardened. Touching you, having you, yes, you knew he dreamt of those things. You knew he wanted a connection. Hearing how much he craved the little things made your head spin, too.

“Well, I have.” Before you could tell him to stop, his hand fell away. “I won’t bother you tomorrow,” he whispered, brushing his hair back and settling once again in his seat. “As much as I want to see you, I won't.”

You smoothed out your top and got comfortable again, too. The underlying tension didn't cease when he took your hand and you didn't flinch or pull away. He wouldn't try anything else. Not tonight. You just knew.

“Try not to run tomorrow, okay?” he asked.

You looked out the window and caught him looking at you in the glass, the semi distorted image an accurate description of your relationship. You knew it was off, that he was off. No one else would see it that way or just didn’t care.

“I’ll try not to,” you replied.

Whether it was cowardly to not try or stupidly brave to stay, you might just have to stay put.

You didn't say much for the remainder of the car ride. Bucky brought up the double date again with Steve and you didn't argue when he suggested a couple of places. Maybe you could figure out what Steve was doing to this girl and you could help each other out. At the very least, it would be nice to have a new friend who might understand a bit of what you were going through.

It was fucked up way to think.

Bucky managed to balance the books he purchased for you earlier that day as well as the clothes once Ray parked the car. “I can carry something,” you offered.

“I've got it, but thanks,” he said, refusing to let Ray help either. “And this way, I'll keep my hands to myself,” he added with a smirk.

You bristled, but recovered quickly. “I hope you have a good evening, Ray.”

He gave you a nod and what looked like a hint of a smile. “You as well.”

You were a bundle of nerves as you went into your building. You were close to having time to yourself, but Bucky was still going up to your apartment since he insisted on carrying everything. The elevator ride up was comfortably silent, but you saw the tension in his body once you got to your floor. He really didn’t want to let you go for a day.

“Thank you again for the books and the clothes,” you said, getting your keys out as he followed closely. He was practically breathing down your neck. “You can just leave everything in the entryway.”

He hummed, stepping inside once you unlocked the door. “You don’t want me in your bedroom?” he guessed.

“I think we’ve had enough excitement for today,” you said. Between kissing you in the shop and his car, you wouldn’t risk it.

He carefully set the books and garments down before he turned to you. In an instant, your back was against the wall and the sound you made muffled by his mouth. He moaned against your lips when you didn’t turn your head away, but you shoved his chest to get him away. You really thought he wouldn’t push anymore tonight. He promised. He…

He stopped.

He pulled back, his breathing ragged and a glazed look in his eyes. “I’m not a monster. I’m not,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face. You braced yourself against the wall as he turned to leave, pausing to look over his shoulder. “I’ve just never wanted or needed anyone like you. I’m… I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” you whispered. And he wanted you to want and need him, too.

He smiled sadly and you almost reached out to soothe him, but you refrained. “Enjoy your day tomorrow,” he said.

The door shut before you could respond, leaving you in the silence of your apartment. A minute or two passed before you went to your room. Uncaring of the bugs around your place, you began to pack a few things in a tote bag with tears in your eyes. You wouldn’t leave tonight, but you’d be prepared if you wanted to go tomorrow. Who were you kidding, would you leave at all?

You blinked the tears away when you caught the photo of you and your friends on the dresser. It was foolish to think of escaping if it meant risking something happening to your loved ones. Addison and Brady. Dana. Your other friends. Mrs. Crandle. In the end, you would have to stay for them. Your life for their safety and continued happiness.

A small price to pay.

Curling up on your bed next to the bag, you whispered, “Once again, you win.”

Would luck ever be on your side when it came to him?

There were no texts from Bucky when you woke up the next morning. It felt… oddly quiet, but you weren’t sure if that was a relief or something you didn’t want to think about. Nothing was out of place in your apartment, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still being watched thanks to the bugs. There were no gifts outside of your door. No breakfast. Just the quiet of your own thoughts as you went about your morning routine.

You smiled as you left the apartment, but it felt different today. Somehow lighter. It was as though normalcy wasn’t a burden, but a chance to breathe, to exist without your new “boyfriend” pulling the strings. The crisp morning air felt welcoming, and the walk to your favorite cafe was like a promise that today you could simply enjoy the time you had. The rich scents of coffee and pastries greeted you like an old friend, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of something close to peace.

“Most important meal of the day.”

You tried to push Bucky and his haunting blue eyes from your thoughts, but his absence lingered like a shadow you couldn’t chase away. He still followed you. Today wasn’t a day for lingering on what could happen tomorrow. Today was about you and small steps, about finding comfort in simple moments, and allowing yourself to breathe without the weight of uncertainty. And kindness to a stranger seemed like a good place to start.

“I’d like to pay for the person behind me,” you said.

"Thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that," the woman said, her surprise softening into a genuine smile. Something in her tone felt warm, like the simple exchange was more than just about paying for her coffee and pastry. It felt like a shared understanding, a reminder that kindness still mattered, and that it could still find its place in a world that often felt too heavy.

You couldn’t help but smile a little wider. “I wanted to,” you said, taking your to-go bag. You were still capable of offering kindness and still held the belief that it could make a difference, even in small ways. “Have a great day.”

The next stop was the flower shop once you finished your treat. You carefully selected a variety of flowers so you could make a nice arrangement at home. You were far from sad, but it would brighten up your mood more. Working with flowers always gave you a burst of happiness.

Once you were back at your apartment, with no one waiting for you, you got to work. Humming, you cut and prepped the flowers and selected a wide, simple vase. Once you had the grid of tape on, you added the greenery, focal flowers, and filler flowers. You loved the balance and harmony it presented once finished. It was also beautiful.

You snapped a photo of the colorful arrangement and sent it to the girl group chat. “What do we think?”

Addison was the first to respond. “Gorgeous! Seriously, how do you do that? I can’t wait to see what you do for my wedding!”

Dana responded next. “Why are you not running your own shop? Mrs. Crandle is sweet, but you should be in charge.”

You giggled when Gina asked, “Can you please tell me how to keep flowers alive? I’m hopeless.” with just about everyone reacting with a finger pointing up.

“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked.”

You hugged your phone to your chest as Bucky’s voice echoed in your mind. The praise from your friends was warm and you felt seen, but a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if you were seeking validation. Did you need them to remind you that you were good at something? Or was it just that you didn’t want to feel invisible, even in this small corner of your world?

“Love you ladies. Can’t wait for Saturday.”

It was true. You loved them and always would. With the thought of the upcoming weekend and enjoying the time together, your doubt was silenced.

There were still no texts from Bucky as you wrapped up the morning. Things felt normal. It was almost too normal. You felt like you were still holding your breath and looking over your shoulder when you left your place again to head to the bookstore, expecting Bucky to block your path or suddenly show up.

It was silly to visit the bookstore considering you were just there and Bucky bought you a bunch of books. Like the cafe, it was another sense of comfort. You even spotted a new book you previously overlooked. It was a perfect novel to add to your collection.

“Reading has always been a hobby of mine. I even have first editions of some of my favorite books.”

Had Bucky carved out a place for himself so deep in your core that everything went back to him? Was this how he went about his day? Did he see something or do something and his mind just went to you? How did one function when someone else constantly invaded their thoughts?

“Hi. Is Marc working today?” you asked once you were at the counter. You wanted to see with your own eyes that he was okay.

“No, he isn’t, but he’ll be in tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, stopping the associate before she bagged the book. Maybe you could find an excuse to go back or call to talk to him. “I’ll just put that in my bag, thanks.”

The weather had warmed up enough that you could go to the park with your new book in hand. Grabbing a seat on an empty bench, you took a moment to appreciate the landscape. It was one of the brightest spots in the city. You sometimes pictured having a picnic date there, looking up at the sky and seeing what shapes the clouds made.

“One day,” you smiled to yourself, getting started on your book.

You were only about one chapter in when a man’s voice jolted you from the pages. “Excuse me, miss. Is this seat available?” You glanced up to find a tall man in a turtleneck and long trench coat standing over you with a charming smile. Was he wearing purple gloves? “My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay.” You nodded to the empty spot. “Feel free.”

“Thank you.” He sat down, his eyes on you as you tried to go back to your book. “Beautiful day, isn't it?”

“It is,” you agreed, turning a page in the hopes he’d get the hint. You didn’t want to be rude by not conversing, but you were trying to read.

“And it’s nice to finally meet the lady who has James Buchanan Barnes so enamored.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, turning to face him. He had a knowing smile on his face, like he knew you were either afraid or worried. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“I don't believe you do. How rude of me to assume.” He extended a gloved hand toward you. “Helmut Zemo. James and I work together on occasion.”

“Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand, but didn't let it linger. Something about him put you on edge, a different sort of edge than Bucky. “I don't hear many people call him James.”

“He’s not particularly fond of it. He much prefers for people to call him Bucky.”

That said something about their relationship if the man didn't respect Bucky’s preferred name. “Okay, Mr. Zemo. Is there something I can help you with?” You couldn't imagine Bucky sending this man to speak to you. “And, I’m sorry, how did you know where to find me?”

He shrugged a bit. “I may have bribed someone or two. Nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”

Your stomach plummeted. What was wrong with these men? “You sound like Bucky,” you muttered. No wonder they worked together sometimes, if he was telling the truth. “And if you’re bribing people just to get close to me, I think I have the right to know exactly who you spoke to.”

“As I said, it’s nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”

You looked around. There were others at the park, but no one paid any attention to you. What would happen if you screamed? “What do you want from me?” you asked. Was this one of the things Bucky meant when he said it wasn’t safe for you?

He held his hands up. “I mean you no harm. I just wanted to see you face-to-face since I didn't receive an invitation from James to meet you at his club. I’m sure it… slipped his mind,” he said with a bitter smile that had you shifting away from him. “I must say, you don't strike me as the type to fall for a murderer.”

You swallowed a little. “A murderer?” Bucky had referred to himself as a monster who hurt and killed.

“Oh, yes. The blood of many stains his hands, don't you know. Alexander Pierce. Brock Rumlow. Jasper Sitwell. Howard Stark,” he ticked off names like he was listing ingredients for a recipe. “He even killed-”

“I think your time’s up.”

Both of you looked behind you to find Ray standing feet away. It was one of the first times you ever saw the stoic man look angry. “Ray?”

“Ah, Raymond!” Zemo smiled, pushing himself up from the bench. He didn’t look at all intimidated by Bucky’s bodyguard. “I was wondering which one of you would show up. Good to see you still have work.”

Ray blinked twice. “Indeed. And I’m sure you’ll hear from my boss very soon,” he said, walking around the bench to put space between you and the virtual stranger. “For now, you should go back to your side of the city and leave her be.”

“We were only talking.” Zemo held his hands up again. “You don't think I'd pose a threat to the property of James Barnes, do you?”

“I’m no one’s property. I'm a person,” you seethed, holding your head high. You were tired of everyone around you thinking of you as an object. “And I agree with Ray. You need to go. Now.”

“Such unexpected fire,” Zemo smiled, making your skin crawl. “I didn't mean to upset or offend you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

Ray’s jaw clenched. “Walk away and don't look back at her,” he ordered.

Zemo glared at Ray, but walked away without another word, his jacket flowing in the light breeze.

You breathed properly again as Ray took a seat next to you. “Are you okay?” He shifted toward you when you nodded. “I’m so sorry he bothered you. He was supposed to be out of town.”

“Who is he? How did he know where to find me?” You narrowed your eyes at Ray and he didn't flinch under your gaze. Much scarier people stared him down. “And how did you know where to find me?”

“Zemo works with Bucky from time to time. He has his own club blocks away, Echo Scorpion. Lots of money and resources and far from being Bucky’s friend,” he explained, blinking twice again. “Boss wanted to make extra sure you were safe and he thought I was the best for the job.”

“What?” you asked over a whisper. Bucky and his fucking loopholes. “Have you been following me all day?”

“Yes,” he answered.

You slowly breathed in and out to remain calm about the fact that Bucky stayed away, but still had you followed. It didn’t calm you down. You were upset. So upset that you let out a shout of frustration loud enough that a few people looked your way, but no one stopped to check and make sure you were okay. Maybe they thought you were crazy. Maybe you were at this point.

Ray didn’t look at all surprised by your outburst. “Not to defend my boss, but he is keeping his promise by not contacting you himself if that is any consolation.”

“He still sent you, Ray. He can say all he wants that it’s for my safety and maybe it is, but it’s still a control freak move and he’s probably demanding that you give him every detail about my day,” you argued, shoving your book into your bag. “And today was going so well.”

“It still can.”

“You’re still going to follow me though.” With Zemo showing up, maybe it was for the best that Ray showed up. “That Zemo guy. Is he going to hurt me?”

“No,” Ray said with certainty. Zemo still wanted something though. Maybe he wanted to get under Bucky’s skin since he wasn't asked to meet you. “He knows that would start a war of sorts. Try not to worry about him. We’ll deal with him.”

“Start a war? You’ll deal with him? You speak so casually about violence because I assume it’s violence that’s intended,” you said as Ray looked in his lap. “He said Bucky is a murderer and he listed names. He killed those people, didn’t he?” you pressed, shuddering a bit when Ray didn’t deny it. God, he really was a killer. Why? For his own gain? “I need to sit down,” you said when your vision began to blur.

“You are sitting down,” he gently pointed out, scooting over and tenderly placing a hand on the back of your head. “Deep breaths. Put your head between your knees. It’ll help.”

You bent over, taking a few deep breaths like he instructed. “You said I can do this, but I don't know if I can, Ray. I’m not brave,” you said in a small voice.

Bucky didn't have anything to fear. He was a king who ruled his city and decided what to do with the peasants. You didn’t ask for him to entangle you in anything of his, the peasant that you were. You just wanted to survive at this point.

Ray surprised you by rubbing your back, your head starting to feel normal again. “Yes, you are. You just don't believe it because you’re not in your element,” he said, helping you sit up properly again after a minute. You did feel a bit better. “Try not to think about this and enjoy the rest of your day. You owe it to yourself to have some peace and relaxation.”

Glancing at your tote bag, you had to agree. You did owe it to yourself to have a bit of peace and relaxation. “Bucky asked me not to run or look for the bugs, but I can’t have complete peace today if I go back to my place for the night,” you said, glancing at the blonde beside you. “Is there anywhere I can stay where he won’t have direct eyes on me?”

Up until Zemo showed up, it was a normal day. A good day. You wanted that to continue.

Ray thought it over. “There’s a hotel not far from here, The Red Room. We can get you a suite for the night. I will warn you before you ask, the manager has worked with Bucky before.” He stopped you before you could get up and leave. “But she won’t breathe a word to him about anything you do. Her staff is very discreet.”

You weren’t sure whether to believe him or not. At the end of the day, he worked with Bucky and his loyalty remained with him. “Why The Red Room and not just another hotel?”

“Because it’s safe there,” he said.

You sighed and slowly got to your feet. It wasn’t getting away, but it was a small win and something told you to trust Ray. “Before we go, is Bucky doing okay today?” Part of you was curious.

Ray shook his head. “He’s in a mood and he misses you,” he replied. You pushed the guilt away. Bucky had to learn to handle time apart. “Shall we go? Are you okay to walk?”

“I’m fine. Just lead the way,” you answered.

Spending time in a hotel suite would relax you. It would give you time to read your book. And it wasn't like Bucky would show up and ambush you.

Right?

And Zemo has entered the picture. What will Bucky do when he finds out he made contact with his girl? Is Ray really looking out for you? Will anything happen at the hotel or will our girl get the rest she more than deserves? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[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.

[maybank5]

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞

pairing ⤜ yn x jj

summary ⤜ a happy future fic, because we need some healing; jj on the beach with his family reflecting on his life.

a/n ⤜ how are we doing fam? me? not so well. this has been the hardest fictional moment that's ever hit me. i'm choosing to believe our boy is still off somewhere and gonna have the best, most fulfilled and loving future. sending hugs and love to each of you!!

song inspo ⤜ no song inspo for this one; but i did have 'nights in white satin' on repeat as i wrote

The sun is setting over the horizon, sinking down into the ocean and melting into streams of gold and orange against the shimmering water. JJ Maybank perches on his surf board for a moment, admiring it. He's never considered himself to be the most religious of people. Sure, he attended Sunday school as a kid, knows the bible stories decently enough; and yeah, there's times when he catches himself praying. Like the time John B got into that nasty accident, or when his son was born. There'd been complications, things had been touch and go for a moment. JJ had pressed his head against the glossy white wall of the hospital waiting area, hoping to God that things would be okay, as John B and Sarah rubbed his back comfortingly.

The one time JJ didn't pray might have been the one time he should. He'd been stabbed, by his son of a bitch father. Not Luke, the "real one" though JJ found it almost funny how he preferred to think of Luke fuckin' Maybank as his actual father. At least Luke had never tried to stab him. But that was beside the point; JJ had been stabbed, and things were not looking good. John B had felt for a pulse and had felt nothing. JJ can still remember the feeling of floating away, like riding a wave to the horizon. He hadn't prayed then. Instead, he'd made peace with his fate. He'd lived a pretty damn full life in 20 years, and if this was the end of it, so be it. At least on the other side, no one would be trying to hurt him, right? That sounded mighty nice to him. So he'd closed his eyes and let himself drift off towards that horizon.

Only instead, he'd woken up in a hospital, still very much alive. His best friends at his side. Pope and Kiara barely left his side, and John B had practically crawled into the bed with him to hold him in his arms until a nurse had yelled at him. JJ doesn't remember feeling such love until that moment. And that was when it all changed. He'd been given a second chance, and an opportunity to see just how loved and valued he is. He was never going to squander it or take it for granted again.

The sun is sinking lower, the water in front of him glittering in gold. JJ pushes his wet hair back off his forehead to admire it. Years ago he'd have just shrugged it off. Sunsets were a dime a dozen. Not anymore though. Now JJ takes the moment to sit and watch and appreciate.

He glances back to the shore, where his wife and baby are playing in the sand. Harley John Maybank's (it'd be a cold day in hell if JJ ever took the name of that man) new favorite thing was trying to rush to the water, his mom and dad hot on his heels. JJ could tell already that Harley was going to be a handful, and he couldn't fucking wait.

The waves were rising higher. It'd make for a sick surf tonight. JJ bites his lip, turns and paddles back to the shore. Some priorities rank higher than waves.

He tucks his board under his arm and hurries over to where the two of you are building a sandcastle with Harley's little castle-shaped buckets.

"Hey, baby," you glance up at your husband, reaching out and touching his cheek with his hand, always little assurances like that to make sure he's real, "Not surfing?"

"Nah," JJ shakes some water from his head, "Much rather'd build sand castles with this little one," he ruffles Harley's head of blonde hair, glistening in the sunlight.

You can't help but smile as he sinks down into the damp sand to help Harley stuff sand into his buckets. Moments like these is when it truly hits you, just how blessed you are.

JJ gently helps Harley, his eyes so soft and full of love and devotion. Harley John is his utmost pride and joy. He's always been soft with you, but the gentleness in which he treats your son is beyond anything you could imagine.

JJ packs the sand into the bucket with the back of a little plastic shovel. He wonders if maybe there was a time he'd done this as a boy, but shakes the thought from his head. It doesn't matter. He can do it now. He can do it with Harley.

"Sarah called earlier," your voice pulls JJ from his thoughts, "She and John B are going to have Baby Jackson christened. John B is supposed to ask you to be the godfather tomorrow, but Sarah couldn't wait to tell me. You know the two of them, it's not a church thing or anything. Just The Pogues and the ocean."

"Sounds nice," JJ says, wrapping his arms around Harley and pulling him softly onto his lap.

JJ reaches for your hand, pulling you to him as well. He presses a kiss the back of your hand, holding your hand and running his thumb over your knuckles. Nothing ever feels one hundred percent real unless JJ can feel it, touch it, revel in it. He tosses his head back as the evening breeze licks through his hair.

And in that moment, JJ can't help but stop and say thank you.

Because JJ Maybank lives every day in paradise.

[taeyongdoyoung]

lobos, we cannot stop hunting

summary: the full moon comes and you insist on staying with your best friend despite his valiant warnings to make you run away from him... pairing: werewolf!chan x reader genre: smut, fantasy, best friends to lovers warnings: *takes a deep breath* heat suppressants, hugging, werewolf transformation, kissing, making out, hair-pulling, eating out, begging, fingering, overstimulation, consent is established multiple times, slightly mean dom!chan but overall a sweetheart, praise+degradation, size kink (duh), unprotected sex on the floor, knotting, breeding kink, mating *exhales* author's note: happy halloween, baby stays!!! 🐺 make sure to get some yummy treats and always remember to say the magic words please and thank you 😈 but ESPECIALLY please as the king of the wolves taught us 😉🛐 word count: 1.8k

"It's a full moon tonight," your werewolf best friend Chan says.

"So?" you murmur, not even bothering to look up from your phone. Those F1 reels that keep popping up on your feed are so interesting! "You've got your pills and stuff? You'll be fine, same as always."

"I ran out, actually," Chan scratches the back of his head nervously.

You put down your phone. Sorry, sexy F1 guys, you can wait.

"Can't you get more?" you ask him.

"No, my doctor is out of town. It's his anniversary with his wife and his phone is turned off."

"Goddamnit, Chan, and you tell me that now?" you are immediately worried about your best friend.

Before he started these pills, Chan told you that the full moon was like really bad on him. As in, he was completely out of control and had these...urges that he had to take care of by himself. Basically, he was in a lot of pain. He's been using these pills for the last two years and they've been working miraculously. Chan was pretty much like a human during the usually dangerous for werewolves full moon. Thankfully, his doctor has been very helpful in giving him plenty of these amazing pills.

"I'm sorry...I thought I had one left but I must have miscalculated."

"Chan, I keep telling you to write these stuff down in advance," you shake your head. "What are you going to do tonight?"

"Suffer through it, I guess. I was just giving you a heads-up so you can get out of here...like right about now."

"What? No way I'm leaving you alone!" you argue passionately. "What if you die?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure I won't. But you don't get it, without my pills, I could unwittingly put you in danger. My best chance to make sure I'm not a menace to civilized society is to lock the door and tie myself up or something."

"That sounds horrible!" you cry out, feeling intense sympathy for your best friend. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"You have to!" Chan insists. "I would hate myself if I hurt you."

"You won't!" you keep trying to persuade him. "I trust you more than anyone else in the universe."

Chan shakes his head, still hesitant.

"Please, you should leave before the moon comes up."

Little does he know it has already begun to rise...

"No, I'm not leaving you," you keep saying and wrap your arms around him.

Chan desperately tries to push you away. But it is too late.

As the moon's power grows, so does his. The only thing that prevents you from continuing to embrace him is his oncoming transformation. Your arms fall weakly to your side as you witness the impossible. His generally tender, adorable features quickly turn into sharp, wolflike and kind of intimidating ones, if you have to be honest. But this is your best friend, your Chan, you keep reminding yourself. And all the fear disappears from your body. As you kneel down next to him, you run your hand through his soft fur, trying to pet him.

He initially snarls and tries to scare you off but the more you insist, the more he relaxes under your gentle touch. God, you can't believe he was afraid he'd harm you. He's just...a big puppy.

You can't resist the temptation and you hug him again. He's so fluffy you're gonna die! And then, the unimaginable happens. He fucking purrs! Oh dear, if you had already been having a hard time trying to hide your feelings for your best friend, then seeing him like this would surely be your demise.

Then, unexpectedly, he shifts back to his human form, taking you by surprise. One, because that was faster than you'd expected. Two, because he's entirely naked, but doesn't seem perturbed by it. You try your best to look him in the eyes because uh...you're still not sure where this is going.

"Please, go, I don't think I can control myself any longer," Chan begs.

"Control what?" you're so confused. "I already witnessed you in your wolf form, you seem pretty chill."

"It's not my wolf form you should be scared of," Chan warns darkly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you don't get out of my sight in the next ten seconds, I'll fuck you until you pass out. And maybe even after that."

Oh? Wait...OH!!!

"Was that supposed to be a threat or a promise?" you quirk your eyebrows at him.

"Hold on, don't tell me you're actually excited by the prospect?" Chan wants to make sure.

"I mean...don't threaten me with a good time," you shrug calmly.

Chan kneels next to you, grabbing your hands tightly.

"I'm serious right now, don't play with me."

"What makes you think I'm not serious? I trust you, I want you, I lo- Uh, I like you a lot, whatever you do, that won't change," you mentally curse yourself for almost saying the big L-word. You hope he didn't catch that.

Judging from Chan's expression, he seems pretty satisfied with your statement.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," he whispers and kisses you harshly, biting your lips and making a mess.

Your mouths are linked by an unending streak of saliva, but honestly you couldn't care less as he claims you, pushing his tongue deeper down your throat, gripping your hair with his fingers for better access. You are already melting. You spoke too soon. You are definitely not ready for this. But you wouldn't be able to make him stop, even if you wanted to.

"Last chance," Chan breaks the kiss to give you the opportunity to back out. To get out of here while you still can.

"Do your worst," you challenge him recklessly and he kisses you again, even harder than before if that is possible.

You know that your best friend, despite his shy and cute demeanour, is physically stronger and bigger than you, but seeing him like this, completely losing control is such a thrill you make sure to commit the picture to memory as vividly as you can.

Chan takes off your clothes in a hurry and just like a hungry wolf, attacks your pussy. And starts devouring it as if it's his last meal on Earth. He doesn't even make the effort to get to the couch, which is so close. He just takes you right there, on the floor. You shake uncontrollably, but he grips your thighs to stop you from moving.

"Please, please, please," you keep repeating even though you have no idea what you're asking for. For him to keep going? For him to stop? You don't know anymore.

"I like it when you beg," Chan smirks against your folds and dives back in, swimming in your water.

It doesn't take you long to burst, completely letting go for him.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he praises you, not giving you time to recover and tracing circles around your entrance with his big fingers.

"No, you," you whisper weakly, trying to make him slow down by pushing his hand away. Needless to say, your efforts are in vain. "I'm s-sensitive."

Chan laughs cruelly.

"You can take it," his words are meant to be reassuring but they're not, as he sticks his finger inside of you.

It's just one but it's already so thick you are beginning to lose your mind.

"C-chan, p-please," you cry for him.

"What is it, sweetheart? You want another?" he mocks your lack of coherence and adds a second finger without waiting for your approval.

"N-no, I c-can't," you shake your head desperately.

"Yes, you can," Chan seems fully convinced, adding a third finger. "You're so tiny, gotta stretch you up real good to be able to take my cock next. Don't you want that, babygirl?"

"Yes, I want it," you are quick to agree and do your best to relax for his big fingers.

"Gonna let me take this sweet pussy with my wolf cock? Claim you as mine? Give you my pups?" he asks gently, his unrestrained actions in complete contrast with his sweet words.

"Yes, yes! Gonna let you breed me like the stupid bitch I am," you answer, degrading yourself in the process.

"That's what I like to hear, darling," Chan praises you and makes you come again on his fingers.

You are almost about to pass out. But somehow you manage to hold on for the next part. You want to feel it. Every second of it.

"Are you sure?" he asks once again, melting your heart.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reaffirm your belief in him.

Chan doesn't wait for a second offer and slides his cock inside of you. Fucking hell, if you thought his fingers were pretty huge, his manhood is on a whole different level. You try to adjust to his monstrous size and focus on his beautiful eyes instead. He's still your Chan, your sweet-

"Fuck, your pussy's so small, gonna rip you in half," Chan grunts loudly.

Okay, not so sweet after all.

"Please, don't. Or do, it's fine by me," you attempt to make a joke.

He laughs and kisses you again, going in deeper. You wrap your hands around his neck in a tremendous effort to ground you, help you remain conscious through it all.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Chan keeps talking meanly. "Want me to ruin that tiny pussy of yours?"

"Yes, yes, I want it all," you repeat mindlessly, not caring about the consequences anymore.

Then, as if by some miracle, you feel his cock growing even more while inside of you. Is that even possible? You thought it was just a myth.

Luckily, you're wetter than ever and your pussy easily swallows his knot.

"Gonna fuck you full of my cum, make you my mate, is that okay?" Chan wants to be sure.

"It's okay, Chan, I'll be your mate," you promise, not even sure what that means. But whatever it is, you're fine with it, as long as it's with Chan...

Then, he releases his wolf seed inside of your pussy, making you feel so full, so warm, so complete.

"Take it, baby, I know you can," he reassures you and you do your best to accept his overflowing victory.

It is a total mystery how you still haven't passed out. But you're grateful for it. You'd like to treasure this moment forever.

"I don't think I'll be able to let go of you anytime soon," Chan chuckles softly, still inside of you.

"That's alright, I think I can get used to this," you respond happily, kissing him again.

"Great. 'Cause I don't plan to ever stop hunting you, my sweet little prey," Chan vows.

"I am but a willing victim to whatever it is the full moon did to you," you smile contentedly.

"And if it's not just the full moon?" Chan asks, biting your earlobe playfully with his sharp teeth. "What if I want to have my way with you every night?"

"Who needs sleep anyways?"

The End

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 8)

Word count: 2000

Warnings: smut, oral, strap-on, blowjob, mommy kink

Taglist:@stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi @ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet @polaris-likethestar @ahintofchaos

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you say, rooting around for your clothes. You find your underwear (cringing at how wet it still is when you put it back on) and your pants (which make your sweaty legs feel even more gross), but no sign of your shirt or bra. Agatha’s already pulled her robe back on and is fixing her messy hair in the mirror. “Have you seen my–fuck!”

“What?” Agatha stops, turning to face you. 

Your face has gone white. “You took off my shirt and bra downstairs. They’re by the front door.” 

“Shit,” she swears. “Um, okay. I’ll go down and distract him. You go find a shirt from your room and then say you came for dinner since you left early yesterday. When he comes upstairs to change, you find your stuff.” 

You nod and before she leaves, she crosses over to you and pulls you into a kiss that leaves you breathless. 

“We’re not done here,” she vows and then runs downstairs. You quickly go into your closet and find the first tattered T-shirt you can. You’re able to find a new pair of underwear and a skirt as well. You ball up the pants and underwear you just had on and shove them in-between the dresser and the bed and hurry down the stairs right as you hear the door to the house open. 

“Hey, dad!” You say when he comes in, trying to slow your racing heart at almost getting caught. His wife was two fingers deep in your pussy not ten minutes ago. 

“Hey, sweet pea! What are you doing over here?” 

You glance at Agatha who is gradually backing over towards the front door. “I felt bad about yesterday, you know, having to leave early to help Wanda. So I thought I’d come over and we could all have dinner?” 

He smiles at you. “That would be lovely. Let me go take a shower and then we can figure out what we want.” He slides past you to go up the stairwell and the moment you hear his footsteps upstairs you breathe a long sigh of relief. 

“I think these are yours?” Agatha says teasingly, holding up the clothes she had taken off you. “Nice new outfit.”

“That was so close,” you laugh, actually not believing that you got away with it. The adrenaline coursing through you makes you want to keep being daring. “Get on the couch.” 

Agatha raises an eyebrow at your demanding tone. “What?” She asks carefully. 

“I said that I wanted to taste you.” You can hear the shower turn on from down here so you know you have about fifteen minutes. 

“Honey, your father is right upstairs.”

“And?” You saunter over to take her hand and lead her to the couch. She puts up no fight when you push her down and sink to your knees before her. “That just means you have to be quiet.” 

The corner of her mouth quirks up. “It’s so cute how you think you’re the one in control.” Agatha shuts up quickly though, when you suck a kiss into her upper thigh. Her robe has ridden up and you can almost see between her thighs. “Naughty girl,” she tuts. The mark also means that she can’t have sex with your father anytime soon. 

You weave your hands between the backs of her thighs and the couch and haul her forward to get better access. She moans at the abrupt movement and bunches up her robe at her hips. 

You part her legs and fuck, she is a mess. Wetness glistens on her thighs and her pussy is swollen and red, literally dripping. You can smell her. You just stare for a minute, transfixed. You had no idea you had this effect on her but now that you do, you will never be the same. 

“Are you going to actually do something or are you just going to stare?” Agatha bites out through gritted teeth and your breath hitches. 

“Do you get this wet for my dad?” You have no clue where that came from but all you can think about is her answer. 

Agatha actually whimpers. “No,” she rasps. Armed with that knowledge, you go back down between her legs and glide your tongue up the length of her pussy. You watch her through your eyelashes as she bites down on a finger to stifle her moans. “Fuck, baby.” 

She tangles a hand in your hair and pulls it gently. You make a noise that vibrates against her and her hips jump. She throws one of her legs over your shoulder to bring you closer into her and you can feel her calf flex against your back. You lick and suck and she lets out a guttural groan as you find her clit. Her fingers tighten in your hair when you scrape your teeth against it. 

“You’re doing so good for mommy, baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” she says hoarsely.  You keep doing exactly what you’re doing, furiously devouring her cunt, and a minute later, her legs tense and she cums all over your face. You let her ride her aftershocks out on your tongue, smirking at her struggling to stay composed.  

She curses and then pulls you up by your hair, giving you a bruising kiss and then licking her wetness off your chin. 

“Satisfied?” She says, a wicked grin on her face. 

“Not even close.” 

“Good,” she says, giving you one less peck before moving her legs around you so she can stand up. “I need to go put some real clothes on before your father finishes his shower. Don’t get into any trouble.”  

When she goes upstairs, you quickly run your shirt and bra out to your car and stash them in your bookbag so you don’t forget them or leave them lying around in another precarious place. 

Agatha comes back down wearing a hoodie and olive green sweatpants. The same sweatpants from the picture she sent you this morning. She sees you looking and she smirks. She reaches down and fists the fabric so it tightens and reveals a large bulge. 

Your mouth falls open, your cheeks flush, and your brain short-circuits. She’s wearing a strap-on right now. She went upstairs, found her strap-on, and put it on. 

It is impossible to think of anything else than her stretching out your cunt with it. 

You’re trying to form words but sound just won’t come out and she’s immensely enjoying it. 

“See something you like, sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” you finally manage to choke out. And then, with impeccable timing as always, your dad comes down the stairs. Agatha lets go of her sweatpants and gives him a smile. 

“Figuring out what we want for dinner?”

“Maybe pizza? Agatha and I can go pick it up,” you offer. Agatha hums in agreement, looking curiously at you. 

“That works for me. Let me go get my computer and I can order it.” He leaves the room to go to the home office. 

“What are you doing?” Agatha asks, eyebrow raised. You shrug mysteriously and follow your dad over to the table when he comes back with his laptop. You all get a large pepperoni pizza to split and a liter of Dr. Pepper. 

“It’ll be ready in 20 minutes,” your dad reads off the screen. 

“We should probably go now, just in case there’s traffic or it’s done early,” you say. Now Agatha knows something’s up. The Pizza Hut is only ten minutes from here and there’s never traffic by their house. 

But your dad doesn’t think it’s strange. Instead, he turns so he’s facing the two of you. “It’s so nice to see my girls getting along.” 

You bite back a wicked smile. If only he knew. 

The second you and Agatha get into her car, she looks pointedly at you. “Alright, what’s going on?” 

“What do you mean?” You ask, playing dumb. “I just want pizza.” You don’t say anything else so she has no choice but to start driving. 

You sit in comfortable silence for most of the ride until you tell her to pull over. 

“What?” She asks incredulously. 

“Pull over there,” you repeat, pointing to the parking lot of the K-mart that’s always empty. Sure enough, there’s two cars. She scoffs, but does as you say, pulling into a spot far away from anything. 

Before she can ask what’s going on again, you unbuckle your seatbelt and climb over the middle console and straddle her. She chuckles, hands finding her familiar spot on your thighs.

“You made me come pick up pizza with you all because you want my cock in your cunt? You’re insatiable, honey.” 

“You love it,” you retort, pressing your lips against hers. Like earlier, you don’t have a lot of time and she knows that too. She slides a hand up your skirt, pushing your underwear to the side to make sure you’re ready for her. 

“I don’t know why you even bothered to put underwear back on,” she says casually, like she’s having a conversation about the weather. “You’ve already completely soaked through this pair.” You blush despite yourself, still a little embarrassed by how needy you get for this woman. 

“Shut up and fuck me,” you tell her and she seems amused. She makes quick work of pulling her fake cock out from the waistband of her sweatpants, holding it with one hand while the other guides your hips onto it. You let out a long moan as you sink down on her. “Fuckkk.”

“You like that?” She pants in your ear, already doing the best she can to thrust up into you. 

“Your cock feels so good inside me, mommy,” you whine, putting your hands around her shoulders to get enough leverage to bounce up and down. 

“You look so pretty like this. My beautiful girl.” She peppers kisses on your chest, which flushes from her praise. You’re getting closer to the edge and she reaches down to rub at your clit. “Fuck, wish I could feel how you’re squeezing my dick.” 

Your rhythm stutters at the image of that and then you’re riding with a renewed energy, determined to put on a show since she can’t actually feel. “I love your cock so much. I’m gonna cum all over it for you.” 

Her hand that isn’t circling your clit wraps around your throat and you whimper. You didn’t ever think choking would be so hot. She leans in so her hot breath is against your ear and whispers, “Cum for mommy.” 

You have to bite down on her shoulder to stop yourself from screaming. She hisses at the feeling but never stops fucking you through your orgasm. 

You rest your head against hers for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of her inside you. 

She pats your hip. “Come on, we have to go pick up the pizza. Can’t have your father getting suspicious.” 

“Oh, but didn’t you hear? He’s so glad we’re finally getting along,” you remark, carefully sitting up and whining at the emptiness once her strap falls out. You move back to your seat and she smirks. 

“Why don’t you clean up your mess quickly?” 

You stare at her, a little confused by what she means, but you see her eyes flick from your mouth down to her purple plastic dick. You give her a knowing grin and lean over to suck her strap into your mouth. She groans, putting a hand in your hair, enjoying the way you bob your head up and down along her length. 

“There you go, good girl,” she says, very pleased. You moan at her words and the taste of yourself. When you finally come up for air, she pulls you in for another kiss. It seems that she also can’t get enough. 

When you’ve collected yourself and put your seatbelt back on, she pulls out of the parking lot and back onto the road to the Pizza Hut, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the console. You reach over and lace your fingers with hers, your insides warming with how she smiles at you. 

[montimer]

Deadpool x reader

Gn!reader,him gaining a crush on ya

He tries not to believe it. Is there even a scenario where you would love him back?

He tries his best to push these feelings away. But he just can't help it, i mean why you gotta be so beautiful and kind to him and your voice, gosh- but the more he tries getting his mind off you the more it hurts. Especially if he goes to drink at a bar and gets so drunk he ends up with someone next to him in the morning.

So instead he lets his obsession grew.

Oh you're shopping? He just happens to be there too! Don't question it, he'll start yapping and drags you with himself.

He invites you over more than usual. You wanna watch a movie? Play games? If he wins he gets a kiss- whoa what,who said that?

He'll wanna have sleepovers. Throw pillow fights and no he won't sleep on the floor, make some space for him. Incase you don't tell him to sleep on the couch he'll totally not creepily stare at you as you sleep. Sure he'll fall asleep,,eventually.

He gives you tiny hints that he loves you. But of course you won't really catch them, after all he acts freaky with everyone.

And by flirting i mean, putting a hand around your shoulder. Telling you that you are gorgeous and calling you nicknames. Showing you a heart with his hands and so much more.

If you let him he would love to hug you every now and then. Tho his hugs get longer and longer the more you let him closer to you.

Speaking of which, he'll let you see his face and know more about his past only after a longer time.

But even then, when he took off his mask and expected a disgusted look or a mean comment, you just smiled at him and reassured that he is beautiful inside and out. Can you be any more charming? He just fall head over heals all over again.

You laugh at his jokes and think hes cool? He is wordless.

He will try to kiss you through his mask and will do it if you don't push him away. "Smooch me!"

Sometimes he stares at you with out noticing.

His room is full of stuff that you gifted to him and photos of you (where he got it? Oh don't worry about it..)

And if you happen to be a hero/etc, he will have a plush and other merch of you around.

He'll even give you a mini version of himself. To keep you safe he says.

He loves to be around you and is overly affectionate.

He squishez his eyes into a smile upon seeing you. He'll wave at you and everything.

He'll draw you silly pictures (mostly the two of you holding hands and being lovey-dovey)

He also leaves you flowers.

If you say nice things to him it'll blow his mind. By nice i mean stuff like "You are cute!" Or "You're the best!". Yeah you really think so? His heart feels like its beating stronger.

He speaks before thinking rather often. He lets his stranger thoughts out. Such thoughts like "You're so hot". He stares wide eyed at you after. Then comes the awkward laugh, just laugh with him please.

Anyways get used to it cuz he'll make your life a living hell, or maybe heaven?

He would ask you to move into an apartment with him, and he won't stop asking that question. Wouldn't it be less lonely and more fun to have a roommate?

He just can't come up with a way to confess..maybe the job will do it itself? No Yes,yes it will Wade don't worry.

[hayatoseyepatch]

ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ

Description: Just some NSFW headcannons for Suo. Character: Hayato Suo Word Count: 1.8k Tags: Fem!Reader, oral (fem!receiving), teasing, dirty talk (it is NASTY), mentions of overstimulation, daddy kink, praise, degradation, fingering, spitting, dacryphilia, masturbating, slight voyeurism, Suo being an absolute menace.  

ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ

a/n: Trying a different style of head cannons, and who better to try it out with than my fave? Let me know what you think and if you wanna see more of this kind of thing. Was this very self serving? Absolutely it was. But hey, figured I’d share them anyway. I hope you enjoy! (˘³˘)♥︎

ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ

•⋅⊰ Hayato Suo is such a tease, he loves making you feel small beneath him, regardless of size. He has mastered the art of mixing praise and degradation. This man’s mouth is absolutely FILTHY. But by far one of his favorite things to do is to completely disregard your words, speaking to your cunt rather than you directly.

“Hayato, please, can’t take anymore, it’s too much!” Suo lets his tongue circle your clit, then alternating to flattening his tongue and applying just the right amount of pressure to the hardened nub, feeling himself getting drunk of the taste of you. Being pulled out of his haze only when your words sink in. He debates filling you with his fingers desperate to get more of a taste of your sweet cunt, but instead he just grins against your center. Ignoring the words that fell from your sweet lips.

“You don’t know what your talking about, love, look at how much you’re dripping for me.” He smirks, groaning in delight as he finally slips his fingers into your waiting cunt, feeling the way your velvet walls wrap around his digits.

“Just look at how she’s sucking my fingers inside, angel.” His eyes are locked on your cunt, eyes not once meeting your own as he buries the rest of his fingers inside.

“Such a good girl for me, look at how well you take my fingers darling. That’s my girl, always so ready for me aren’t you?” He coos, this time it seems his words are no longer being spoken to you. But rather your cunt directly. The sheer fact of him completely disregarding your words, the idea that he was acting like this interaction was entirely between him and your cunt, as if you weren’t there at all had your mind blanking an eyes growing glassy from overstimulated pleasure.

He scissors his fingers inside of your cunt pushing your gummy walls apart, as he spits in the opening he made. His tongue making laps around your clit, sucking harshly on the sensitive bud. Curling his fingers just enough to brush against your most sensitive spots. He’s taking his sweet time, so focused on your heat, overtaken by your taste as he rolls his hips against the plush of the mattress groaning against your cunt.

Suo presses his hips hard against the mattress as trying to relieve himself, even if it was just a little bit. “God you taste so fucking good, you missed your daddy huh? Wanting to just be filled up by his cock don’t you?” He murmurs against your heat, still disregarding your cries as he speaks to your cunt. “Such a good fucking pussy, always making me feel so good don’t you? Want me to stuff you full, hm?”

•⋅⊰ Suo will allow you to think you have the upper hand. Let you believe you have backed him into a corner and that he was finally going to allow you to take control, only to flip the switch back regaining control with ease.

You situate yourself with your thighs on either side of his hips, giving a roll of your own, smirking when you feel just how much your actions had affected him. Ducking your head down to bite harshly on the sensitive spot on his neck that you knew all too well. Moving to lick a fat stripe up the column of his throat before replacing your mouth with your fingers, wrapping the digits around his throat.

“Can feel how hard you are for me, baby. You want more, Yato? Wanna fill my pretty pussy nice and full?” You practically moan into his ear, punctuating your words with another roll of your hips. “You’d like that getting satisfaction knowing it was your come running down my thigh, might just sit on your face after and let you taste us baby, have you eat your come out of my cunt.” You purr, teasingly thinking foolishly for once you had him right where you wanted him.

Suo he looked up at you with hooded eyes, hands coming up to rest on your hips a groan leaving his lips as he ruts his up to gain more friction against you. He leaned his head back to give your more access to his neck, he knew that this wasn’t going to last long like this but willing enough to give you that dominance for just a bit. His hands grasping at the fabric of the skirt that was now bunched up at your hips pushing you harder against his hips rolling up against you once more a deep throaty groan leaves his lips as your fingers wrapped around his neck, looking up at you with faux doe eyes

“Yes ‘Mommy’” He coos a mocking tone taking over his voice, eyes narrowed instead of lidded, letting you know this game of cat and mouse was coming to an end. And he would be sure to make both of your roles perfectly clear. “Please let me stuff your pretty cunt full of my come, wanna feel how wet you are around my cock, leaving that pretty ring of your arousal around my dick, fucking yourself back on me because you wanna reach your peak so badly but I wont let you.” He smirks, seeing the way your cheeks flush at his words, the look of shock on your features as he watches the moment you realize you no longer had the upper hand.

“Or Ill even force your face into the mattress and pound into you so hard and deep that you feel me in your throat~ is that what you want babygirl? Is that what my pretty bunny wants? He continues to speak, grabbing you by your throat and using the position to his advantage flipping you over trapping you under his from once more. “Better yet, why don’t I just have you cock warm me after princess?’ He grins, lips coming down to brush against your ear, his hips rolling against yours. Giving you a taste of the delicious friction you were craving arousal building to a fever pitch from his words alone.

“And once I finally let you off, I shove my fingers in your sensitive pussy? Just to have you get a little taste of what I did to you, hm?” He gives you his signature closed eyed smile, that fake innocent chuckle you’ve seen him give over and over again bubbling from his throat. Not matching the look in his eyes as he opens them once more, lidded and serious as he grips your cheeks, forcing your mouth open as he lets a glob of saliva roll of the tip of his tongue and into your waiting mouth “Now be a good bunny and swallow that up hm?”

•⋅⊰ Suo has your body entirely mapped out. Whether he is your first lover or you have had several, he assures he has ruined you for anyone else. No one will ever know you body like he does. No one will ever make you feel the way he does, not even you.

Suo smirks around the rim of his teacup, leaning back in the chair in the corner of your shared bedroom, one leg crossed over the other as his eyes were trained on the bed. He watched with warm brown eyes lidded with lust. Your body writhing on the bed, your fingers buried in your dripping cunt, desperately trying to bring yourself to release. His name falling form your lips, a pleading for him to finally touch you.

He had come home that day, much earlier than usual. His ears perked up while making himself a cup of tea, swearing he heard your voice. As he trudged further into the apartment, the sound of your sweet moans filling the halls of your apartment. With a lifted eyebrow he had made his way to your bedroom. The sight that he was met with had his heart picking up speed, his cock hardening within the confines of his loose fitting pants.

There you were, completely bare, clad only in one of his changshan’s. Buttons undone so it  draped over your frame, just enough he assumes to surround yourself in his scent. Your eyes were screwed shut. One hand buried between your legs, fingers trembling as you rubbed tight circles around your clit. The other tugging desperately at your nipple, Suo’s name falling from your lips. You don’t know how ling you had been there, desperately trying to bring yourself to orgasm.

But you were only met with the stark realization that Suo had ruined you. Your own hands betrayed you, not nearly enough to make you feel the way your boyfriend did. Your fingers were too small, not filling your cunt a fraction of the amount that his large ones did. Frustrated sobs falling from your lips.

You jolt as Suo’s voice permeates the silence of the room. ”Well what do we have here?” He drawls, eyes locked on your form as he takes a seat in the corner of the room. He cuts you off as you begin to speak, attempting to sit up to conceal your naked form. “Don’t stop on my account, darling. Go on, I want to see you try and make yourself cum.”

He grins, knowing already that you had been at it for a while. The sheen of the thin layer of sweat that covered your skin an indicator of that. He watches as you obey, laying back down, parting your thighs to give him an ample view of your drenched center. Your essence dripping onto the sheets below. He sits there for a while, watching fat tears stream down your cheeks. Knowing even your own fingers, ones that had touched your body numerous times, could no longer bring you to orgasm.

“Thats my girl” He praises, watching as you try and fail to bring yourself to the precipice. “Bet you wish it was my fingers buried inside you instead, hm? Wish my cock was filling you up so nice? Angling my hips just right to hit that pretty spot inside that has you screaming my name just right, hm?” He clicks his teeth in faux sympathy, putting down his teacup as he stands. He approaches the bed in long strides. Taking a seat on the edge as he levels you with his hungry gaze.

“Aww, what’s the matter sweetheart? Cant make yourself cum? Poor sweet baby.” He drawls, grinning maliciously at the look of pure desperation that decorates your features.

“Please, Yato, can’t do it.” You beg pathetically. “Can’t make myself feel like you do, baby. Can’t come without you being the one to make me, please Hayato touch me.” He grins the sound of you desperately begging him to touch you has him deciding to put you out of your misery. His large hands slowly dragging themselves up your thighs, inching agonizingly slowly to where you needed him most. “Now who am I to deny such a pretty request? Cant leave my pretty girl unsatisfied, I am a gentleman after all.” He grins, the look in his eyes betraying his words. All you knew was that he had utterly ruined you, never again would anyone make you feel like Suo does, not even you.

ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ

Me posting twice in two days? Unheard of. But the absolute NEED to write an individual smut with Suo consumed me. I cant believe I haven’t written anything specifically for my favorite man is bewildering. I’m a bit iffy on the last one, just cause I have never written anything like that before. But I hope you enjoyed, and let me know if these individual head cannons are something you’d like to see more of in the future. ♡´･ᴗ･`♡