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imagine-you · 3 months ago

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I Will Avenge My Ghost [Bucky Barnes/Reader]

Summary: Your sacrifice on Vormir was meant to be your end. You did it for love. You did it for family. And you had no regrets in your decision to be the one to jump instead of Steve. But you never expected to wake up in Wakanda and you certainly never thought that you would still lose Steve and your sister in the years since your death. While you can't get Steve back, you're determined to figure out what happened to your sister and you end up dragging Bucky along for the ride. Your questions lead you to Westview, a sleepy little town harboring a dark past, and a witch named Agatha Harkness. Will you find what you truly seek down, down, down the Witches' Road or will Death finally come to claim you?

Word Count: 3.4k

Author's Note: I was going to hold off on this, but I watched episode seven and I had so many feelings I literally wrote this last night. If you enjoy this and would like to see this continue, please let me know!

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When you jumped off the cliff at Vormir, the decision had been easy. It had been a long five years without your sister and you would have given anything for Wanda. You would also give anything for Steve, and if this brought you closer to winning the war against Thanos and bringing all the lost back, then you would do it.

A sacrifice of love was needed and you had nothing but love to give for those two. You couldn't live in a world without Steve and while he wanted to do the noble thing, you knew you would never be able to go on without him. So, you used your power one last time to push Steve far away from the edge of the cliff and then threw yourself over it.

As you fell, you could hear Steve crying out for you. You always assumed your life would flash before your eyes like everyone claimed it would. But all you saw was Vormir's sky eclipsed by Steve reaching over the cliff's edge, as if he could still reach you. And then you saw nothing at all.

You didn't remember hitting the rocks below, but the only people on your mind as death rushed to meet you were Steve and Wanda. Steve, selfless and sacrificing, and how much he yearned for his best friend, the person who truly understood him above all else, Bucky. And your sister, who had drifted away into dust and oblivion after losing the love of her life. Wanda, who had been forced to kill Vision, only to have it all be for nothing. Her grief had sent shockwaves through you and you would never forget the raw pain that had radiated off her after losing Vis. You couldn't bring Pietro back, and while his death would always weigh on your mind, you knew that you could bring Wanda back into the land of the living.

You would make it right. You had to. Even if this was your end, then at least it meant something. At least it was used to save countless others.

Death flowed endlessly around you in glimpses of life and snatches of memories, remembered and forgotten. They fell right through your grasp, never yours to begin with, but a tether to the world you longed to revisit. You fought and struggled, pulling at strands and words, willing them to materialize. You followed a lead, a road, that appeared before you and at the end, you expected to find Death.

No one will ever be tempted by the darkhold again.

I miss you. God, I miss you so much.

I got my dance. I owed her that. I owed myself that.

I can't feel you.

We can't reverse death.

You're gonna need me.

Immortality never meant anything to me before, but I suppose you’re not mine after all. Not yet, at least. Don’t say I never did you any favors.

You didn't expect to wake up.

You felt breath expand your lungs and you sat up with a gasp. You didn't know where you were or what had happened to you, but all you could think was that you failed. You had traded your life for the billions of others that had been snapped away by Thanos. If you were here, alive, then it had all been for nothing.

"Hey, hey," someone was saying, and you could feel hands on your shoulders, but you didn't want to lift your head to try to see who was attempting to talk to you. "She's freaking out here. Don't you think you should do something, Shuri?"

"And what would you have me do, Bucky? This might not even really be her. I thought her magic was blue."

"It was," someone said. Bucky, you realized. It was Bucky who had you by the shoulders. "Hey, doll," Bucky tried, bringing a finger up to tuck under your chin and force your head up.

You met Bucky's eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening. He hadn’t been wrong. You were freaking out, but it wasn’t going to do you any good now. You needed to figure out what the fuck was going on.

"Bucky?" You tried, your words coming out as a rasp. "Am I alive?"

Bucky looked like he was torn between relief and confusion. "Yeah, you're here with us." He gestured at the other two people in the room. You recognized one as King T'Challa's sister and you had already known Sam.

"How did I get here? I died on Vormir. Or...I thought I did. I don't remember dying," you told them, trying to remember what happened. Death hadn't felt like an end, more like a journey. You had felt, all the while, like you were being lead somewhere. Maybe, you couldn't help but think, it was bringing you here.

"We don't know how you got here," Sam interjected. His arms were crossed and he was wearing a new suit. It wasn't his usual Falcon getup. It was more reminiscent of Steve's, showcasing red, white, and blue with a star on the chest. The shield was strapped to his back, and you started to panic again.

"Where's Steve?" You quickly let your gaze shift from Sam to Bucky again. “Bucky, where’s Steve? Did he make it? God, I gave up everything for him and if he still died...,” you trailed off, letting the thought go unfinished. It didn’t bear thinking about.

Bucky turned to throw a look over his shoulder at Sam. You couldn't see Bucky's expression, but you could sure as hell see Sam's.

Grief. Remorse. Apology. Pain.

"No," you denied with a quick shake of your head. "I jumped so he would live. I jumped so he would get to have a life." You could feel a strange new energy thrumming along your limbs, and you didn't know how to contain it. You felt restless, an urgency rising within you that you didn't know how to quell.

"He did," Bucky assured you, finally looking at you again. You felt like his hands on you was the only thing keeping you together, so when he made to draw away, you latched onto his shirt, pulling him closer. "Okay, okay," he soothed, moving to sit on the edge of the examination you realized you were lying on.

He was treating you like a frightened animal, and you didn’t know how to feel about that. You were torn between seeking comfort in the familiarity of him and lashing out for letting you be so vulnerable. It wasn’t his fault. He was only doing what he could for you, but you were caught between anger and fear, and nothing good ever came out of that particular combination.

"Then what happened? Where is he?" You demanded, looking from Sam to Shuri and back to Bucky again.

"He...," Sam paused at another look from Bucky. "Well, she's gonna find out eventually."

"What?" You snapped, hating that everyone in the room knew something you didn't. "What happened after I jumped?"

"We defeated Thanos and the people he snapped away came back," Bucky told you, giving you the tiniest hint of a smile when your shoulders began to slump with relief. Before he started talking, his lips twisted to the side in a grimace and you knew he was about to throw you back into the deep end. "But, you've gotta realize that winning that war nearly destroyed Steve. He told me what happened on Vormir and he told me what he wanted to do."

You were briefly distracted by a shimmer in the air around Bucky. You hadn't realized it before, but the air around him seemed to faintly glow red. As he spoke, it shifted to a light blue, and you were so distracted by the sight that you missed his next words.

"You alright there, Maximoff?" Sam called, breaking you out of your fascination. The air around Sam seemed to glow just the slightest hint of green while Shuri had a purple aura around her.

"I don't know?" You answered, ducking your hand to look at your hands. You felt off, somehow. You had never really been the same, not since losing your parents at a young age and having to look out for your younger brother and sister. After being subjected to experiments by sadistic scientists and coming out the other side with superpowers, you figured you would never lead a normal life. Steve had been the closest thing you had ever gotten to a fairytale ending and now he was gone.

You felt unmoored, adrift, in this new reality and you were waiting to crash down again. You only hoped you would be given the opportunity to brace for impact when the time came.

A light danced across your fingers, your magic beginning to flare up with your frustration. You had never been anywhere on your sister's level, your magic blue where hers was red and chaotic. But you had also been able to tame a flame and throw objects around with just a thought. She would always be the more powerful of the two of you, but you had held your own well enough in a fight.

The magic that pushed up beneath your skin to pool in your palm was no longer blue, but orange.

"Huh," you breathed, no longer able to accept that you were rooted in reality. "This is the weirdest dream ever." You finally looked back up at Bucky, catching his worried expression. "You think this is what I'm seeing before I die?"

"Doll, that's what I've been trying to tell you. You did die," he stressed, tightening his grip on your shoulders. "There was never a body. Steve wanted to bring you back, but you just weren't there."

"The soul stone must have claimed her. It did require a sacrifice," Shuri observed with a thoughtful noise. "I could tell something was happening. There was just too much energy and while I thought it was your sister, it turned out to be you swirling around in the air like a ghost. I still have no idea how you corporealized and got here from Vormir, but you're living and breathing," she assured you, gesturing towards a monitor you realized was showing your heartbeat, oxygen levels, and other vitals.

There were too many worries crowding your mind and you tried to sort them out. You thought if you could just focus, then maybe something would start to make sense.

"Steve?" You tried again, not able to accept that he might be gone.

"He passed on," Sam said, his tone somber and apologetic. “Wasn’t that long ago, but I’m sorry to tell you, he’s no longer with us.”

Bucky shot him a glare, but you shook your head.

"No, tell me," you demanded, trying to force yourself to breathe. “I’m not going to get anywhere with you hiding things from me.” You wanted to scream and rage, but you weren't sure what your magic would do if you gave into the instinct. It was new, something you had to relearn, and you didn't want to hurt Bucky, Sam, or Shuri because you couldn't control it.

"He, uh, well," Bucky started with a wince. "He had to bring the stones back to their original homes. He told me before he left that he was never going to be able to save you. Your death was tied to the fate of billions and there was nothing he could do to get you back. The soul stone wouldn't return you, but the time stone could still give him a life. It could help him right some past wrongs and regrets."

Bucky stopped talking, but you didn't need him to continue. You could almost see it playing out like a movie in your mind. Steve searching for you one last time on Vormir only to be informed that you were no longer there. Steve leaving and finding Peggy. Steve finally getting his dance. Steve getting his happy ending.

Without you.

You pulled away from Bucky, your hands curling into themselves as you felt your power build up. A brilliant, blinding orange light caressed your skin and you threw your hands out to the sides, releasing everything that had been building up.

You let out a scream, throwing your head back as you attempted to claw back control from the wild impulse of your magic. It was untamed, no longer held under your will, and you felt like it would tear you apart. It was lighting you up from the inside and you were distantly aware of the smell of smoke and flame.

Someone was shouting your name, attempting to bring you back to yourself. But all you could feel was pain and the agony of losing Steve after all was almost too much for you to take.

Someone wrapped their arms around you, trapping your arms at your sides. It was enough to pull you out of your grief, the surprise of being so fully embraced while you were feeling like a bomb that had finally gone off shocked you into finally reeling your magic back in and storing it away.

Bucky had you in a tight hold, but it wasn't restricting. It was comfort and reassurance and understanding.

“You couldn’t have done that before she burned a hole through the floor?” Shuri wondered, sounding exasperated.

“Where do you keep your fire extinguisher?” Sam wondered, his voice drifting away as he searched for something to put out the fire that was still raging on the floor.

"I know," he was whispering, ignoring all the alarms you had accidentally set off. You could hear Shuri cursing and Sam rifling through a cabinet. "I know, alright? It hurts. It hurts me too," Bucky confided in you, keeping his voice low enough so only you could hear him. “But you’ve gotta keep it in right now. Just for now. And then I’ll get you someplace where you can let it all go. Once we know you’re okay,” he added after a moment.

You let your arms wrap around Bucky's waist, resting your head on his shoulder. He brought a hand up, letting it curl around the back of your neck, holding you in place. You could feel tears tracking down your cheeks, but you no longer wanted to cry. You had gotten your answer, and while it wasn't what you wanted, you couldn't begrudge Steve a happy ending. Not after everything he had given up to save the world time and again.

You absentmindedly reached a hand out, drawing on the flames and letting the fire fall into your hand. You closed your hand into a fist, letting it die.

“Neat trick you’ve got there. You couldn’t have done that sooner?” Sam asked, finally brandishing a fire extinguisher that was no longer needed.

“Perhaps we should give them a moment,” Shuri suggested to Sam. “Why don’t you come look at these readouts with me?”

“I’m not a toddler. You don’t have to distract me,” Sam grumbled, but he dutifully followed Shuri to the other side of the room, leaving you and Bucky with a small measure of privacy.

"I'm sorry," you muttered into Bucky's shoulder, letting yourself only focus on him. "I'm sorry he left you. He really loved you, you know."

"Yeah," Bucky huffed out on a humorless laugh. "He really loved you too."

You stayed like that for a while, soaking up Bucky's presence while everything fell apart around you.

"Sam's Cap now?" You checked, knowing that if Sam wielded the shield, then he had taken on the mantle. “He’s good for it.” You knew that if Steve had passed on the shield to Sam, then it was with very good reason. You had always assumed that if Steve retired, then Bucky would take on the role of Captain America, but looking at him now, Bucky just seemed tired. Maybe he didn’t so much want to play hero as he wanted to simply stop looking over his shoulder at every turn waiting for his past to resurface.

"Yeah," Bucky answered, finally pulling away enough to look at you. "You missed a lot while you were gone, you know."

"How long has it been since I died, Bucky?" Steve was gone and Sam was Captain America and Bucky seemed less constrained, but still wary. It was a monumental change, but you had a sinking feeling it was only the tip of the iceberg.

"Years." Bucky watched you in silence for a long, drawn-out moment. You heard the door open, but didn't bother to see if it was admitting someone new or if Shuri and Sam had finally had enough of pretending they weren’t eavesdropping on your conversation with Bucky. "Look, there's something I should tell you, but after how you reacted to Steve, I don't know how you're gonna take this."

"What are you--"

"I almost didn't believe it," someone interrupted, and you finally looked over to see Stephen Strange standing in the doorway. "It's miraculous is what it is," he continued, not aware of the way you tensed at his presence.

There was something dark in the air around him. It looked as if something had latched on to him and was content to be a passenger. You didn't know why you were literally seeing people in a new light, but you knew that whatever had happened with Stephen wasn't good. It was like it had left a stain on his soul.

"Stephen," you greeted with a nod of your head. "What the hell happened to you? You’re...different," you decided, watching how the inky wisps attached to his aura pulsed at your words. You couldn’t tell if it was something separate or if it was simply a part of Strange now.

Stephen's brow furrowed in confusion. He shot Bucky a look and then Sam and Shuri. "Did you--?" He let the question hang, waiting for them to answer.

"No," Shuri told him, watching you in interest. "She's changed. Her power has evolved with her death."

You swung your legs over the side of the table and let yourself stand. Bucky reached out to help you or hold you back, you weren't sure, but you waved him off. Another question had come to mind, and you instinctively knew that Stephen would have something to do with the answer you were seeking. Shuri had mentioned your sister earlier and now she was all you could think about. Why did Shuri it was your sister trying to materialize? Wasn’t Wanda alive? You would never get Steve back, and you would never want to rip away whatever peace he had stolen for himself. But Wanda would need you. Wanda always needed you. If something had happened to her in your absence, then it was your job to find her and help her.

So, you met Stephen's gaze and held your head high, not wanting to show even a hint of weakness.

"Where's my sister?" You asked, daring him to lie to you. You could see a flicker of uncertainty in his expression as you advanced on him. You could feel the tempting crackle of your power tingling along your fingers. You longed to see Wanda, knowing that she would be the only thing keeping you from truly falling apart. Your sacrifice had cost you more than your life. It had cost you Steve. And you would be damned if it also cost you your sister.

You felt like your soul was reaching out to her, your entire being aching to pull her back into your orbit, but there was a strange emptiness inside you. It was like she was drifting further away from you by the second.

Stephen met your gaze, never letting it stray. "What do you know about the darkhold?" Stephen finally responded after what felt like an eternity waiting for any news about what had happened to your sister.

It wasn't what you wanted to hear and you couldn't help but lash out with your magic. It had been coiled, ready to strike, and who were you to deny it when you finally had a worthy target?

You had expected to simply push him with your power. It had been a familiar defensive response before your death, but now your magic seemed to take hold of the reigns. It curled out away from you and wrapped around his throat. You could hear his breath cut off and Bucky was calling your name, but you didn't care.

There was only one thing you cared about at the moment and Stephen Strange seemed to hold all the answers.

So, you decided to give him one more chance and posed the question that had overtaken your mind.

"Where's Wanda?" Additional Author's Note: If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!!

#agatha all along #marvel #marvel imagine #agatha all along imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #reader is a maximoff #agatha all along x reader #reader insert #imagine #bucky barnes imagine #agatha all along spoilers #spoilers #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #my fic #i will avenge my ghost fic

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fandomfluffandfuck · 1 month ago

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Thinking about sloppy, dirty Wakanda husbands...

It's fucking sweltering, every breath that comes out of Steve comes spilling out as a rasping groan that grates against each of his ribs, dragging like fingernails, filling his lungs luxurously and grinding out of his throat with his hot hanging-open mouth, panting and heaving, not just breathing. Heaving. He's flat on his fucking back with his chest swelling and sinking rapidly but he may as well be pinned to a spinning top with how his mind is racing, zooming, swirling. Every inch of him is on fire. Sweltering. The sheets of Bucky's bed stick to his back--scratch that, the hay making up Bucky's mattress on the floor of his sweet, cramped little hut in his merciful slice of paradise is sticking to his back through the layers of sheets. It's surprisingly comfortable for being just straw but the composition of whatever the fuck he's pinned to, riding the rocking deck of a ship, is the last thing on Steve's mind when, when there's--

F-fuck.

Fuck it.

Steve reaches out and fucking sliiiiides Bucky--all trembling and slick and wet--off his dick. He doesn't fucking care how bad it aches or how much his throbbing, hard cock twitches and weaps at being lewdly and loudly pulled out of Bucky's feverish, clenching hole. The sound of it.

Jesus.

It's sloppy.

They're all messy, fucked up on each other, blotting everything else out but their frayed edges and misfiring nerves. Steve doesn't care about how strung out they are or how fucking much his dick hates him right now for doing that. The real motivation, hot and growling, is his twisted mouth. It's watering. Even as his chest heaves and the lungfuls of sucked in air do their damnest to dry out his gaped-open lips--he needs a taste.

And he's gonna goddamn get one, his fumbling hands sinking into the fat of Bucky's hips, jerking him forward by his irrestiable curves. Just a taste. He needs it.

Bucky, shocked and dispaired by the sudden emptiness, complains, his voice climbing up in register, "Steeeeve," his voice breaks, "n-noo-!" At the same time--with Steve's hands all over him, the only difference that his dick isn't still stretching out that greedy hole--his lush lower lip juts out, a fucking dream, and that sweet cleft in his chin, shadowed below his beard, trembles.

He's the picture of debauchery. Enough to make a grown man cry.

Steve's too busy to notice whether his eyes are stinging or blurring with tears on account of how he's growling, "up here," though. He won't have it. He's groping, pulling, and slapping. He's a fucking caveman, manhandling him like this. He doesn't care. He needs this man. Sue him.

Fuck him.

Bucky's complaints quickly fall into sheer, jagged groans like tumbling off the edge of a mountain. And all it takes is the magic of Steve's tongue, then he's suddenly oh-so easy and weak.

Steve. wants. a. taste. and he'll have one. Now.

His tongue flicking and lapping teasing circles, pointing and fucking in deep, getting his beard wet with his own mess and the lube dripping like molten glass from Bucky's hole, smeared over the curves of his backside, eagerly finding it's way down his thighs. Fuck. Steve's eyes roll back so far they snap shut. He's good.

Tastes good.

Steve's reduced into a sticky, thick, boiling of pleasure, caveman, and Bucky's changing his tone further to belly-deep groans and salacious moana mixed into a stupor-inducing cocktail. He's arching his back, too, sticking his fat ass out with shivers raising in the hair on his legs under Steve's groping, petting, unkind-and-possessive-yet-wordhipful touch, goosebumps 'cause he feels so good, he can't take it. Neither of them can take it. But mostly Bucky.

As Steve tongues him, kissing his hole like he'd kiss his mouth, only dirtier, more tongue and more commanding and more sensitive, more, more, more, Bucky's alternating between spreading his thick thighs, feeling too good, wanting more, getting close, and he needing to make room to squirm yet also clenching his legs tight every so often, randomly letting his leg muscles spasm and squeeze like the velvet-slick interior muscles of his fluttering hole, treated so well--Steve's jaw is aching--he tightens his thighs around Steve's head until he runs out of oxygen. Steve's watched a few too many videos of people built suspiciously like Bucky's squeezing the life outta some poor watermelons a few too many times. He. Yeah. That's him. He's red enough in the face for it. Choking and tonging Bucky and tasting him.

Still, though, Steve's starved and, for as much as he wants, craves, needs, Bucky dancing on his tongue, squirming and grunting and groaning and panting for it--he needs him to just fucking take it, too.

It's hard to hold him down when he's the one on top, or it would be if Steve weren't a supersoldier pumped up to an aching throb on lust. Pity. So, all he's got to do is bury his face in deeper, feeling the heat and tasting the delicacy of him and hearing him enjoy it and knowing him, knowing him so deep and intimate. Lips and teeth and tongue. His whole fucking face. His nose against the fat little flush of his perineum, rubbing and pressing. His jaw rubbing him raw with his beard, scruffing and scratching until Bucky can't take it anymore--he won't be able to sit later.

Steve buries in deep and holds himself there, one hand bruising around his plush, curved hip while his muscular forearm pins Bucky's wet, hard dick to his belly, trapping it to scrape dangerously against his hairy forearm and against his own soft belly and fuzzy treasure trail.

Bucky moans in agony, too much friction with too much tongue. Too good. Denied and yet too good.

Steve wants him to cum just from his tongue and lips and teeth on his twitching, cock-stretched hole and he Steve knows Bucky thinks he's an asshole for it. Maybe he is. Maybe he's a possessive, selfish bastard that needs every peice of him. He needs him to cum because he made it so. Why have such a pretty fucking man work for anything? He doesn't need to ride his face, he doesn't need to ride his dick, he doesn't need to grind his dick against him, he just needs to take it.

Take it.

Take it, Steve growls like an animal, teeth tight against the inside of his asscheek, biting more color into him. Yeahhh, he'll be fucking raw later. Worse than a sunburn.

Reacting, Bucky scrambles to get ahold of the pleasure, his hand searching for something, anything to hold onto, first he's blindly groping the wall, palm and curled fingers thumping against it dully as his head tips back, hair spilling over his shoulders in a silky rush of waves too gorgeous to be real, then he finds purchase on Steve's hair and he pulls, oh, he pulls, his arm flexing and bulging and if Steve's mouth wasn't already busy at his hole, eating him, he'd be trailing sloppy kisses up that fucking arm. He loves it so fucking much.

All of Bucky, god, he loves Bucky. A man. He loves this man more than life itself. He'd give anything for him. He'd give it all again, in just the blink of an eye, but he can't exactly do that immediately, so, he does the next best thing--he pulls him harder down against his bearded jaw and rubs up against the inside of his round asscheeks and butter-soft, iron-strong thighs, marking him up more, impossibly more, making him sigh and gasp and groan, barreling toward orgasm recklessly. He's gonna bust all over Steve's forehead and hair and it'll be impossible to get out when they're only got a lake at their disposal for washing but Steve isn't thinking clearly enough to give a single fuck.

All he's thinking about is the little, sloppy, loose hole he's ravishing and these hanging balls smothering him. He's thinking about Bucky. Bucky's pretty body. Gnawing at him, lavving his tongue over him, sucking his rim, fucking him with his tongue--Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky BuckyBuckyBucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky BuckyBucky BuckyBuckyBuckyBuckyBucky.

#sloppy wakanda husbands fucking for you this evening #you're welcome #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #fandomfluffandfuck

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megamindsecretlair · 1 year ago

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Have Mercy

A/N: Based on this ask. It contained porno links. Whoever you are, ya nasty and I love you. This is a bit of a deviation so I'm sorry if it wasn't what you pictured! Thank you for the support!

Pairing: Pornstar!Tyrone x Black!Shy!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH for nearly 5k words! PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), cum play, possession kink, size kink, dirty talk, degradation/praise kink, Daddy kink, orgasm denial, overstimulation, all consensual. Use of n-word. Disrespectful Tyrone. Drug use. Established friendship.

Summary: After a very steamy porn video by Tyrone, you can't help your curious questions as you hang out and discuss his work. You'd been too shy to ask before, but you're dying to know what it's like in person.

Word Count: 5,284k

A/N: I was just waiting on the right spark to answer this ask. And...look, you all know how fuckin' feral I am for Tyrone. It's not a surprise. I promise 5k words is worth it. This was so fuckin' hot to write. I hope you enjoy it! Please, please, consider leaving a comment or reblogging to help support writers. I can't get better with no feedback!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @notapradagurl7 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings

“Okay, but like…they just kind of sit there and…” You stopped talking and started jerking your hand. You looked across the hazy space towards Tyrone. He was laying across the bed and looked at you down the blunt he held to his mouth. The orange-red spark glinted and then dimmed as he pulled it out. He licked his lips and then blew out the smoke.

“Shit, ion know. I do this shit myself,” Tyrone said.

Tyrone passed the blunt and you grabbed it, bringing it to your lips and inhaling. You turned your head towards the ceiling, your eyes expanding. “So, you got a camera and microphones and shit?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Tyrone said and took the blunt from you. “Got to these days. If I’ma be rocking somebody’s shit, then everybody gon’ see it.” He brought the blunt to his lips and pulled on it.

You tried to picture it. Your head was so blessedly silent for once. You actually formed a thought and kept it. Tyrone on the bed, naked. Showing off ropes and ropes of thick muscle. Arms strong enough to break coconuts. Thighs begging to be ridden.

Your core heated up, a small tingle working up the back of your thighs. You bet he was the type to hold on and get to work. But you smirked at him and started to giggle.

“You always talk that shit, Ty,” you said. Your giggles kept going, making your stomach hurt. You flattened your hand on your stomach. “Don’t make me laugh! My tummy hurt!”

Tyrone stared at your high ass and smirked. Fuck. It took forever to make him laugh. Like the mu’fucka was born with ice down his throat. You longed to hear that rare, raspy laugh.

“I talk big ‘cuz my dick big,” he said and huffed out a chuckle. It was barely enough to call it a laugh.

The mention of his dick had you clenching your thighs. You’ve memorized the way Tyrone walked. He walked like he was swangin’ dick down there. Also, you’d never in a million years tell him, but you’ve seen his videos.

You had second hand evidence that he was packin’. You have came plenty of times just to the sound of his voice on those videos. He rarely fucked the same girl twice. They were all different women; all Black women, and all thick Black women.

You weren’t a snob. Sometimes you’d watch the woman getting their back blown out and wish it were you. But his voice. You were knee deep in his comments and he was gaining popularity just from his voice alone.

You giggled again. “Where do you even find these women? You being safe?” You asked. You knew perfectly well that he fucked without a condom. Hell, you’d let him cum in you too.

“I get checked every month and only fuck bitches that’s clean. Some hit me up. Some I find in the wild,” he said.

He puffed on the blunt after you handed it back. Your body wasn’t floating but it felt like it. There was an all around hum on your body.

“The wild? Like…damn, you just find women willing to have sex on camera and release it?” You never had enough courage to ask these questions before. But after last night’s video, you wanted to know. Your burning curiosity finally won out and started asking about it.

“You’d be surprised how many mu’fuckas wanna watch themselves. Some don’t wanna be seen. That’s fine. Hide they face and whatever. But the real nasty ones don’t cum unless the camera in they face,” he said. He released a cloud of smoke to join the rest.

You thought of being one of those women. Showing your face on camera for millions to gawk at. Cum to. You’d never in a million years…but the thought wasn’t terrible. There would be evidence that Tyrone fucked you and he’d control it. He could do anything with it.

“Do you rehearse and shit? Like do you know what you’re gonna say before?” You asked.

“Hell naw,” he said and huffed again.

He comes up with those filthy things on the spot? You bit your lip. Maybe…having sex with Tyrone wouldn’t be good. He’s a different breed. In a class all on his own. Sure, the videos could have told you that. But hearing it from the source? You weren’t so sure you wanted to find out what he was like.

“You real curious tonight,” he said. The orange light from the blunt casted soft shadows over his face.

You shrugged. “We ain’t talkin’ bout shit else,” you said.

“You forget I know yo ass? You real curious,” he said. He looked at you skeptically. You looked right in his eyes. You were not going to give him an inch. You had years worth of experience pretending to not be in love with him. That every video wasn’t like a stab in the heart.

He was making good money though and you weren’t gonna fuck with someone’s bag. So you kept your mouth shut. Pretended that you were just his friend. Just a friend.

The bed shifted and Tyrone leaned closer to you. His eyes searched your face. He leaned in closer than he has ever been to you. His nose lightly grazed yours, making it both tingly and itchy.

You swallowed hard and you knew you made a sound. Tyrone huffed, the breath fanning across your face.

“You trynna find out?” He asked.

“Naw nigga,” you said. You didn’t know where this boldness came from. But your heart thundered in fear that he would learn your secret. You’d kept it so close to your heart for so long. It was like its own tiny dagger always piercing your heart. But sometimes removing it hurts you worse than keeping it in. If you opened your big mouth, you’d ruin this. This time spent together.

Tyrone kissed your cheek. His lips lingering against your cheek as he spoke. “Every time I mention gettin’ down, you tell me I’m lyin’. So let me prove myself,” he said.

You giggled, the weed making him glow. You stared across his regal looks. You bet he was a king in a previous life.

You wriggled on the bed and took a deep breath. Stay strong. Stay strong. “You actin’ crazy, Ty. Not every girl wanna be yo bitch,” you said. You sounded weak to your own ears.

“Mhm, I think you the one lyin’. I think you been cravin’ this dick,” he said. He pecked your cheek and traveled down. His lips kissed a trail of fire down to your neck.

“What you say that for?” You asked.

“You wanna know what it’s like to be fucked by me, don’t you?” He asked. He kissed up to your ear and laughed. “I know what desire look like. I eat that shit for breakfast,” he said.

His words made your mouth drop open. Words of denial rushed to your lips. But your mouth turned dry. The fuckin’ weed speeding along your anxiety at being exposed.

“You trippin’, man,” you said. You shook your head, but he kept up the pressure on your neck. Practically making out. Little swipes of his tongue made you bite back a groan. Your panties were so damp, they were sticking to you. You ran the palms of your hands up and down your thighs.

“You talk big game. You aint tell me to stop yet neither,” he said.

Fuck. True. But how could you? He hadn’t even done anything to you yet and you were ready to burst. You just made yourself cum this morning, thinking of the video last night. He had looked delicious pounding someone into the bed. How you wanted it to be you.

Your words died in your throat. What could you say? He was seducing yo ass. Did you really want that to stop?

“Fine then, nigga. Break my back,” you said. You looked him in the eyes with the challenge in your eyes. He looked up at you and grinned. Yo momma ain’t raise no bitch. You got nervous sometimes but that’s okay. It’s okay to be nervous. Do shit anyway.

The words sounded nice, but you were terrified of the look in Tyrone’s eyes. That was not the look of someone who was going to be sweet and loving in bed. Tyrone the Pornstar was here.

He got off of the bed and moved the ashtray off of the bed and onto the nightstand. The sound of the glass was like a gunshot. You flinched and watched his every move. He stood up to his full height and stared at you.

The look in his eyes was not friendly. It was predatory. You were an unknowing baby bunny and he was a starving wolf. He reached out with his hands and ran them up and down your bare thighs. You gasped and flinched away from him.

“When was the last time you been fucked?” He asked.

You’ve taken your fair share of guys to your bed. Some were even good. None ever came close to Tyrone. Each time you came, it was to the sound or memory of Tyrone’s voice.

“Been a while,” you said.

He nodded his head. He reached for the zipper of your shorts and you let him unzip it. He didn’t pull your shorts down all the way. He opened your zipper as far as it would go and then pulled down the front just enough to see your panties.

You were hoping to disrobe in a quick rush. You weren’t exactly prepared for sex tonight. You wore one of your boring and safe panties. It didn’t bother Tyrone. He stared at it, like he’d just unwrapped a present.

“Talkin’ all that shit. Why yo panties wet then?” He asked.

You looked away briefly. “Thinkin of this guy at my job I got a crush on,” you said.

Tyrone dug his fingers into your panties and you cried out. “Every time you lie to me, that’s another orgasm,” he said. “I’m already thinkin’ of..four, maybe. I can keep goin’,” he said. His deep voice made you shiver.

His fingers were right there. Your stupid panties were in the way. You felt the pressure but not his beautiful, strong hands. “I’m not lyin’,” you said.

He dug his fingers in more and you jerked from the strong wave of desire. It was like you drank static.

“A’ight that’s five. And I want you to count ‘em out too,” he said.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” you said. You never had your limits tested, but you were pretty sure you’d die after the third one. If he went for five, you weren’t going to survive. There were too many things you wanted to accomplish before you left this earth.

“That sorry shit don’t work on me,” he said and grinned. “Now be a good little bitch and tell me you want this dick. And you want me to film it,” he said.

A breath stuttered out of you. He was even better in person. “Don’t show my face,” you said. You borrowed boldness for tonight. If you survived to tomorrow, then that’s when you’d freak out. For now, you wanted the entire Tyrone experience.

“Naw, this my personal stash. I wanna see that sexy ass face,” he said. He leaned over you and ran his thumb outside of your panties. You were leaking at the edges and his thumb glided so close to where you needed him.

“Personal stash?” Maybe if you kept him talking, he’d give you a reprieve. You just needed a moment to think. To find a way out of five orgasms.

“The ones I watch to get myself hard. The ones I cum to, thinkin’ of it when I’m balls deep in pussy online,” he said.

Oh shit. “But–” your dry throat ached. It paled in comparison to the ache in your tummy. That deep, hidden place that few men actually hit.

Tyrone slipped his thumb under your panties and crested the very outer area of your clit. You gasped and twitched, your legs couldn’t open wider because your shorts weren’t all the way off. He looked into your eyes.

He licked your open mouth. “See, the game to porn? Focus on the woman. Always,” he said.

He increased his strokes until you were a shaking mess. You didn’t know you could make those types of sounds. But all of the tiny grunts and yips, turned to moans as you came from his finger circling your clit. He didn’t even touch it directly.

He pulled his finger away and watched you jerk and twitch until you calmed down. He licked his thumb, made a surprised sound, and stood up. Your eyes tracked him as he stepped back and took off his black T-shirt. His jeans went next, his briefs tenting with his erection.

He stroked himself over his briefs and looked at you with his head crooked to the side. “Fuck, you’re sexy,” he rasped. He moved to the side of his room and there was the sound of devices getting moved around. You laid on the bed, your eyes back to the ceiling.

This was really happening. You fought the urge to pinch yourself as Tyrone set up the camera. It had a retractable viewer and he flipped it around to the bed. You saw yourself lying there, staring at the camera.

Your pussy clenched at the thought. Tyrone had always been a man of his word. If this was his personal stash, he was the only one that would see you getting fucked. You wanted it so desperately, you leaned up on your elbows and started to remove your shorts.

“I say you can move yet?” He asked.

You panted at his aggressive tone and shook your head, not trusting your voice. “Lay yo ass back down,” he said. You followed his command, laying back on the bed. Your body was floating this time. You felt every nerve in your body twitch up and await what Tyrone had in store.

Tyrone puffed on the blunt as he finished setting up the camera. A moment later, he brought the camera closer and pointed it at your face. You blushed so hard that your cheeks burned from it. You knew they would be hot to the touch.

“Smile for Daddy,” he said.

You giggled and swiped at the camera. “Fuck you,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled a little louder this time. He moved the camera down your body. “Take off the shirt first, nice and slow,” he said.

You sat up and looked at him. Focus on him. That’s all you had to do. You’d make this the best damn video he can’t release. You took off your shirt, exposing your mismatched bra. That came next, slowly sliding it off your arms. You threw it at him and he caught it with one hand.

He smirked from behind the camera and dropped your bra. He commanded that you stand up and take off your shorts. He told you to turn around and slightly bend over as you took off your panties. You stepped out of it and he groaned.

“Fuck, look at that pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he said.

You clenched and then clenched again knowing that he was picking it up on the camera. “Crawl on the bed, get on your back,” he said.

You did as he told you. You climbed onto the bed and exaggerated yourself crawling to the top of his bed. You flipped over, dropping onto your back. “Get comfortable,” he told you.

You moved a few pillows over to cradle your head and back. You instantly felt better. You closed your eyes with a smile. Your knees were pressed together, still feeling that lingering shyness.

Tyrone tapped your knees. “Open them up for me,” he said. Tyrone had the viewfinder half flipped between you. He had it focused on your knees. You hid your face behind your hands and shook your head.

“C’mon, do what I say,” he said.

You groaned but opened your legs. You threw your arm over your eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. “Open them pretty eyes and look at me,” he said. His tone, more than anything, made you open your eyes and stare at him. Tyrone was not the gentle type online. He barked and commanded and did nearly unspeaking things to women. Soft wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“You know how sexy you are?” He asked.

“Of course I do,” you said. Your sexiness didn’t depend on no man. Not even Tyrone. You knew you were fine as hell. You ain’t pull niggas for nothin’. But you were still fuckin’ shy. Damn.

“Don’t hide it then,” he said. He climbed onto the bed and moved the camera beyond your head. You craned your neck to see him fix the viewfinder where he could see. There was a perfect angle of the length of your body, your legs spread open, and Tyrone hovering above you.

Tyrone then kissed you, rolling his tongue all over yours. You don’t know how long he spent kissing you. It was long enough to make you relax for half a second. When he felt your body go slack, he added his hands. He lowered himself to your body and rested on his elbows. His hands, he ran them all over your chest.

He massaged your breasts, rolling your nipple between his warm fingers. Each twist was just this side of painful. And you groaned. Your head flopped on the pillow as he nipped at your neck.

You brought your hands up to grip onto his back. Your nails lightly scratched him. He groaned. He kissed down your neck, moving onto the top of your titties. “Oh, shit,” you moaned as his lips latched onto your left nipple.

He sucked like he was mining for gold. He rolled his tongue over the budding peak. He ‘d stop and examine his handiwork, see if it was satisfactory, then return his attention to it. He licked a long strip down the center of your chest to your tummy.

He paid careful attention to each stretch mark, each tiny scar from you being clumsy, and every mole. His hands worked their way down too. Squeezing your sides. The upper, fleshy part of your thighs. He reached around and gripped your ass, squeezing the globes.

He continued downward, running his tongue through your pubic hair. He reached the very edge of your pussy and you squirmed away. A cold patch started inching its way under your ass. Your arousal was already flooding his bed.

He flattened his tongue against your pussy lips and you bucked off of the bed. “Oh fuck, Tyrone!” You yelled.

Your skin was itchy. You needed relief in the worst way. He chuckled and nosed his way through your folds. He swirled his tongue lazily around your clit.

“Did you know you taste good?” He murmured into your pussy. His lips caught your clit and part of your pussy lips. You made an unholy moan.

“Could eat this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and still want some,” he said.

“Fuck,” you whined. Your pussy clenched thinking of a repeat with Tyrone. How else he could be so nasty.

The wetness of his tongue made you wetter. He began to increase the flicks of his tongue against your clit. “Oh shit, right there, right there,” you begged.

Tyrone backed away at the last second and you growled. He chuckled and kissed your clit. “You think just ‘cuz you want it, you s’posed to have it?” He asked.

“Please, please,” you said.

“Mhm, I knew yo lyin’ ass was gon’ regret what you said.”

“Or maybe I just wanna cum and I’ll say anything,” you said, goading him into proving you wrong. You’d gladly be wrong, many times over, if he kept eating you like that.

“Guess, we goin’ for six then. Start counting,” he said.

“What?”

“And the first one ain’t count neither,” he said.

“That’s cheating!” You yelled.

He looked at you from between your legs. You had to sit up some to see his half lidded eyes. “I look like a nigga that play fair?”

Your chest rose and fell and you looked at him. You shook your head. “No, but–what can I do to bring that number down?” You asked.

“Not a mu’fuckin’ thing,” he said. He kept watching you as he descended on your pussy, running his lips up and down, licking up your arousal. He watched as he tried different things, trying to see what you reacted to most. When he did something you liked, he stopped and switched tactics.

You tried not responding, quieting your moans but then he’d bit the sensitive spot between your pussy and your leg. You’d jerk, complain about the pain, and say, “Don’t give a fuck.”

You were back to moaning uncontrollably. So out of your mind in bliss, that you barely noticed that he stuck a finger inside of you. He pumped you, his finger getting wetter on each slide. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you chanted.

“Let Daddy hear you,” he said.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you continued. Each word ended on a shriek. Tyrone sucked and you came, with a loud moan. Your hands moved down your stomach, down your thighs, scratching underneath them. Your moves were jerky, flopping against the bed. You didn’t know what to do with your body as you came.

When you were done, air whooshed across your heated, sweat-slick skin. Tyrone licked up whatever was left over, making you twitch from your sensitive clit.

Tyrone kissed up one side of your thighs. He slapped your pussy, making you cry out. “One!”

He then pushed your legs back, your thighs grazing the bedsheets. “This where I want ‘em. Keep ‘em there,” he said.

How the hell was he still in so much control? You were a ruined mess. You couldn’t survive any more.

Tyrone had other plans. He trailed his fingers around your clit and you moaned. “I can’t,” you said.

“Aw, you wanna tap out?” He asked.

You nodded. Your eyes were closed. You weren’t strong enough for another orgasm.

“Still don’t give a fuck,” he said. He leaned up and over you. His thighs pushed at yours, folding you. He leaned on his fist, his muscles bunching and contracting. A vein started near his elbow and ran down towards his hand. You longed to lick it, but his arm wasn’t close enough.

You resorted to rubbing his arm. He brought his other hand to cup your pussy. Then a finger disappeared inside you. “Oh shit!” You said and jerked.

He added a second finger and you twitched. Your moans were turning painful. Robbing the breath from your lungs. You’d gasp for any little molecule of air. And then seize up once more as his fingers pumped in and out of you. “Mhmm,” Tyrone said.

“Nasty little bitch, ain’t you.” He added a third finger.

“Ty, Ty,” you croaked out.

“What? You need four?” He asked. He added a fourth finger and you rounded your eyes at him. As he pumped it into you, he turned his hand. Two fingers slipped out. The first two, he continued to pound into you. Then he crooked his fingers in a come hither motion and you exploded.

Your back lifted off of the bed as your orgasm steam rolled you. Your legs shook like mini earthquakes, each wave cascading through you like aftershocks. You reached for his chest, needed to feel something solid under your hands. He slapped your hand away and tilted his head at you.

He grabbed your nipple and pulled and you shrieked. “Fuck,” you said. He arched his brow at you. “Two,” you said.

You came down with tears gathering in your eyes. You sniffled as you shivered. Tyrone rubbed your arms, smirking at you.

“Shit, may not need the camera. I’m gon’ remember this shit,” he said.

You completely forgot about the camera. It turned you on that those orgasms were recorded. That he’d watch them again and again.

He kissed your tummy, bringing your attention back. He kissed and suckled your skin. You watched it disappear into his mouth. You groaned when he started to hurt. He moved on to more patches of skin, kissing the underswell of your right titty. He caressed your hips and massaged your ass as he kissed his way to your neck.

He bit your shoulder and then licked your neck. He placed kisses on your jaw and then kissed you. He licked the swell of your bottom lip.

Your body relaxed into the feel of his lips on you. The weed still did its thing. Every kiss was its own inferno. Burning your skin and leaving no end in sight.

Tyrone returned his attention to your neck, kissing along your ear. He licked the shell of your ear and lined up at your entrance. You didn’t even notice that he took off his briefs.

He slid in and you groaned. You brought your hand up to push at his chest. He stroked and coated his long dick with your juices. He moaned at the feeling of you. He threw his head back and you saw his neck swallowing. Tiny huffs escaped him.

“Goddamn, this pussy feels as good as it tastes,” he moaned. You clenched at his dirty words and he moaned again.

“Wanna get fucked like a good little bitch?” He asked.

“Yes! Yes, Daddy, please,” you begged, nodding your head.

His strokes were long, languorous. His hands pinned your upper arms to the bed. “What happened to all that shit you was talkin’?”

He wanted you to speak? Speak when he had his third leg half inside of you? He wasn’t even fully seated yet.

“Talk that shit now with dick in you,” he said.

You opened your mouth, ready to say something. But then he slammed all the way home, hitting your G-spot and making you cum instantly. You shook on his dick, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your toes curled. The orgasm took all coherent thought.

After, you sniffed as tears ran down your cheeks. Tyrone’s dick twitched, his eyes locked on your face.

“Can get a nigga used to this. You cum so pretty,” he said.

“Fuck, Tyrone. Please,” you whispered. He only smirked at you. He slapped his hand against your cheek. “Three,” you said with a cry.

He moved his hand down your throat and squeezed.

“Oh fuck,” you whispered. Tears fell in rivulets down your cheeks. You were past the point of feeling good in the afterglow of your orgasms.

He kept up his slow strokes, making you feel every large vein sliding against your slick inner walls. “Put them legs where I want ‘em,” he commanded.

You lifted your aching thighs, putting your hands under to hold them open for him. “Please, Daddy.”

“Please what? Ask nicely,” he said.

He slowed down even more, almost to a torturous crawl. He wiggled his hips and his dick hit all the corners of your pussy.

“Please, no more,” you said.

“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he said. He wiggled his hips for emphasis. You whined and jerked on the bed.

You didn’t want to punk out. But you truly couldn’t take another one. Still, one built up anyway. Tyrone chuckled at you, condescension poured out of him in waves.

“You know I’m cummin’ in this shit right?” He groaned. He threw his head back and his hips twitched.

You pictured him filling you up like a twinkie and your pussy clenched. “Like that? Want me to nut in you?”

He squeezed your neck one last time. He moved his hand to your lower tummy and pushed down. You felt his dick from the other side, felt how deep he was inside of you. The tip of his dick kissed your G-spot. He kissed you, soft and nasty. “Talk yo shit then. Can’t talk with dick inside you?”

Tears gave everything a watery haze. It streamed down your face. Tyrone licked up your tears and moaned low to your ear. “Gimme that nut then,” he said.

On command, another orgasm rushed through you. Spots danced behind your eyelids. You squeezed your eyes shut. “Show me them pretty eyes,” he said.

He smirked as you locked eyes with him. He angled his hips and your jaw dropped open. “Mhmm, I know. I know,” he said.

As you were calming down, you muttered, “Four.”

Tyrone slipped out of you and you drew your first real breath in what felt like hours. He leaned down between your legs, his mouth suckling on your clit.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, oh fuck, Tyrone, Daddy. Please,” you moaned.

“Open them fuckin’ legs,” he growled. You opened them wider, both your arms and legs were tired now. He brought his mouth back onto you and sucked roughly, dragging another orgasm out of you. Your eyes were permanently glued to the back of your head. Pleasure coursed through you, making your legs shake of their volition. Your soul left your body, your feet cramped. Sound exited your right ear and you felt this one in your eyes.

You squirted and Tyrone leaned back. “Mhmm,” he encouraged. “Nasty fuckin’ bitch,” he said. He licked up your sopping mess. You continued to squirt, the pleasure still so intense. He leaned back and watched you cum, watched you squirt.

“F-f-five,” you shook. Your teeth clattered and knocked against each other.

“Look at you, bein’ a good little bitch,” he said. “You made Daddy wait for his nut though.” His voice turned sinister.

He leaned up and slapped his dick against your clit. The wet slap turned you feral, and you cried for more. You begged for more.

“Fill me up, Daddy,” you cried. Your fingers tore at your body. You wanted more even though you were ready to tap out. Ready to give it up.

Tyrone chuckled as he slammed back in. “Oh fuck,” you cried and collapsed your legs.

“Uh-uh, open them fuckin’ legs. Keep that shit open,” he said.

You cried, tears long since dried up. He bottomed out and then rubbed your clit with his thumb. “Oh fuck,” you moaned.

“I know,” he said.

He slid in and out, stroking deep. Deep enough to make you see stars. “Oh, fuck, Daddy,” your voice was high-pitched. “Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me,” you chanted.

“Im finna nut,” he moaned. “I’m finna nut, I’m finna nut.” Hearing his moans was like the spark you needed. You came again, gushing and soaking his dick. He threw his head back and unloaded inside of you.

He kept going, kept fucking his cum into you. Hot splashes coated your pussy. You felt every pulse and twitch of his dick inside you. He emptied his balls into you and you moaned and scratched at his back.

He slowed his deep strokes, stilling inside of you.

“Good fuckin’ bitch,” he said. He slipped out of you, his cum leaking out behind him. He panted, his sweaty chest rising and falling almost painfully.

“Oh,” you cooed and moaned. Your legs flopped onto the bed, instant relief from keeping them up so long. “Six,” you whispered. Your voice was hoarse.

Tyrone kissed you. He breathed in your ear. “You ever have any more questions, you come let me know.”

You were already gone to the world as he said whatever it was that he said. If you woke up in the morning, it’d be a miracle.

&&&

You okay? Need more? The Secret Tyrone Files

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callmebrycelee · 10 months ago

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HAPPY 41ST BIRTHDAY, LUPITA NYONG’O!!!

#happy birthday #brown eyes #happy birthday 2024 #actor #black excellence #march 1 #march 2024 #black is beautiful #black girls rock #black girl magic #lupita nyong'o #pisces #black panther #black panter wakanda forever #12 years a slave

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upat4amwiththemoon · 2 years ago

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Heyy can i request a wanda x fem reader oneshot where r is the queen of a nation which is similar to Wakanda and the avengers need this nations help for something (sitting on the throne looking badass moment ) and she is graceful and so badass like: sitting at dining table uses knife to point towards empty seat, “oh. sit, please.” R has powers and helps them out. Wanda being head over heals and finally them dating. I am sorry for the long request 😭

Mother Nature

Summary: A queen so powerful, myths have been written about her. An island so mysterious, no one knows where it is.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x female!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 2505

a/n: listen…this got a little out of hand

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @wandsmxmff @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Dragonstone is a volcanic island in the North Atlantic Ocean, just below Greenland and Iceland, but it’s not visible on any maps. Not many know of its existence, as the island is surrounded by such powerful magic, making it invisible to the naked eye. If anyone were to sail towards it, violent storms and currents will make even the strongest of ships sink. It has become a myth to the outsiders, an area such as the Bermuda Triangle, where everyone disappears into the nothingness. This keeps the island, and its population, in safety and peace. They have fought no wars, nor have they suffered in the hands of man made concepts.

However, the fights have started to get bigger, sometimes having the faith of the whole Universe in their hands. That much they figured out after Thanos. Which is why the Avengers know of Dragonstone, and its Queen, and how to get her help.

Everyone holds onto their seats as the Quinjet’s autopilot navigates through the dark clouds, often going through turbulence. “Are we sure this isn’t actually just some freak of nature spot? Is there anything here?” Tony grumbles as he tries to fasten his seatbelt impossibly tight. “We have very expensive cargo on board, and by that I mean me and my suit.”

“Fury seemed confident in his knowledge.” Steve reminds, slightly more calmly, though he is also nervous.

Wanda has her eyes closed. She tries to stay inside her mind, ignoring everything going around her. Air traffic has never been her favorite, but this is next level. The Quinjet does sudden dives and turns, throwing anything loose around. This is why Fury said to fasten everything to the walls and roof, but like usual, Tony didn’t take the advice to heart.

She can feel Natasha’s hand holding her own, calming her down slightly. Wanda doesn’t personally know Fury that well, but she knows Natasha thinks very highly of him, so she is pretty sure he wouldn’t lead them to their certain death. However, she can’t be sure, as this is starting to feel like a wrong way to the supposed island.

“Why couldn’t Fury come here himself? Or the Queen to us?” Kate almost shouts at a particularly violent spot.

“Because when we ask for help from royalties, we show them respect.” Steve states, his *all the younger generations have forgotten respect* personality every old person has shining through. “Did none of you learn this in Wakanda?”

No one gets to answer him, as the Quinjet starts going up, up, up full speed, making everyone yelp. After it has reached the correct altitude, it goes down headfirst. For a moment, the team is sure something has gone wrong, that they are plummeting towards their death. But right before it hits the water, the Quinjet turns the right way and continues flying forward, now in a completely calm climate.

They instantly calm down, letting out breaths of relief and relaxing their tense muscles. Natasha is the first one to get out of her seat, going to the cockpit and looking out the window. “Well, at least the island is real.” She calls out. The others start to pile up in front of the window.

At first glance, it looks like they’re flying towards a big pile of rocks, but at a closer look, they can see the rocks form big walls and even a bigger castle on the island. They’re in awe of the view. The water and air are so calm now that they’ve gotten past the barrier.

They stare out the window while the Quinjet lowers itself to the ground, right outside the walls. Once they step outside, they see two people waiting for them. “Welcome to Dragonstone!” One of them smiles. “My name is Sylvia and I’m the Queen’s advisor. And this,” she gestures to the person next to her, who is wearing an armor, “and this is Calen, they’re the head of protection in this island.”

They bow their head down as a greeting, not saying anything to the guests. The look on their face is serene and their posture is straight, like a proper soldier’s. Sylvia on the other hand shows more excitement through her body, even though her hands are behind her back, they’re still wiggling around, and the smile on her face is one that can light up a whole room.

“Thank you for granting us access to your island.” Steve speaks up, being the unofficial spokesperson when it comes to formal situations.

“Fury is an old friend of Gaia, any friend of his is a friend to us. Now, if you’d follow me, I’ll take you to the castle to meet our Queen.��

They start trekking the land towards the castle, first walking on the bare land and then moving to narrow walkways as they go inside the walls. Most of the walk goes by in silence, the team taking in their surroundings. They’ve never seen anything quite like this.

Wanda drags her hand along the stone fence, her fingers going along the bumps and ridges of it. She smiles. The magic of this island feels different than her own, but not in a threatening way, it feels like it’s dancing with her own.

Finally they get to the castle’s entrance. The huge wooden door opens inward, two other soldiers pulling it. Calen and Sylvia greet them as they go past them. “The Queen is in the throne room.” The latter tells the group, leading them through hallways before stopping in front of a door.

The door to the throne room is also wooden, but it’s a lot more decorated compared to the other ones. It’s carved from top to bottom with different pictures, making it look like a story. Calen pushes the door open, letting everyone walk through it before closing it again. At the end of the room, the Queen sits on her throne. The royal seat has been made out of purely white stone. The backside of it is tall and the sides are wide enough for the Queen to lay her arms there comfortably, but it still looks delicate.

“Gaia.” Sylvia lowers her head in respect and Calen goes down to one knee to bow. The Avengers, quite hesitantly, bow in some way too, bot sure of the island’s customs.

“There’s no need for that.” The Queen’s voice makes all of them rise. Sylvia and Calen take their respective places near the Queen, while the team stop in front of the stairs to the throne. “I hear you are friends of Nicholas Fury.”

Wanda stares at her in amazement. The way she looks so soft yet regal makes her heart pound faster than normal. She can see her chest moving up and down as she breathes, the armor like steel plate moving with it. The dark blue fabric is thick for colder weathers, but flowy enough to move easily. Wanda’s eyes move up to the top of her head. The crown on her head looks like it’s made out of steel as well. It makes her look sharp and strong. She looks majestic sitting on her throne.

“We are,” Steve smiles, “thank you for agreeing to meet us, your Highness.”

“Please, Y/N.” She states. “That’s the name my mother gave me.”

“Y/N. I’m sure you’re aware of a recently defeated threat from space called Thanos.” He continues once she nods, “unfortunately the other worldly threats don’t stop there. We’d like to ask your help to prevent these kind of attacks more efficiently.”

“Certainly.”

Wanda shudders from the way Y/N says the word. Her pronunciation, the slight rasp of her voice and how she rolls the letter r, make her feel dizzy. She is sure the look on her face is stupid, and lovestruck, her eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. The whole conversation going on is going past her. Only thing in her mind right now is something she really shouldn’t be thinking about, but she just can’t stop herself.

“Would you give me the honor of joining me for dinner today? We even have enough guest rooms if you wish to rest before your trip back to America.”

“We would be honored to join you.” Natasha answers. She has been glancing at Wanda during the conversation with a grin on her face, she can read her face easily, knowing what the witch is fantasizing about.

The Queen stands up, her dress falling perfectly to her feet. “I’m glad to hear that. I shall see you in the dining room in an hour, in the mean while, Sylvia will show you where you can refresh yourselves.” Sylvia nods and gestures for them to follow her. Wanda keeps her eyes on Y/N as she walks away, noticing a small smile growing on her face.

After an hour, the Avengers gather into the dining room by Sylvia’s lead, where Y/N is already waiting for them. “Gaia.” Sylvia says before leaving the room.

Y/N stands up, pointing towards the empty chairs. “Please, sit.” She says with a smile, sitting down once again when they get around the table. Wanda sits next to her. She can see the small details of her breast plate from this close.

The table is already fully catered with different foods and desserts. It works like a buffet, everyone takes what they like to their plates. “Can I ask you,” Wanda starts when her plate is full, “why do they call you Gaia, if your name is Y/N?”

“Gaia is a title of sorts. Every queen before me was called that as well, because we keep this island alive and safe. It means Mother Nature.” She explains with a gentle smile on her face, holding eye contact with Wanda as she talks to her. “It is an honor to be called Gaia.” Wanda nods, not able to look away from her stormy eyes.

“How does the next queen get chosen?” Tony asks.

“It’s more faith than decision making,” she pauses, looking for best words to describe how their queens get their role, “we’re born to it, but not in a traditional sense. We are born from the previous Gaia, they mold us from magic.”

“So, there’s no…” he moves his fingers around in a promiscuous manner, which makes Steve look at him disapprovingly. They’re in front of the Queen after all.

But she only finds the situation amusing. “No. Children born in a traditional way are random, and our queens need to be precise. They’re all women and they all have powers. They need to be born from magic.”

Although they don’t really understand the process, and none of them want to ask about the specifics of it, they still find it fascinating. It’s a whole new country with completely different customs compared to theirs. Wanda especially listens to her intently. Her smooth voice practically drilling its way into her brain.

“Can the queen have relationships? Even if they don’t have any part on the next generation of rulers.” The question makes Wanda’s head snap to look at Natasha, who has a wide grin on her face.

“Yes. There are no rules on relationship. The partner just has to know they have no rule over the island.”

Satisfied with the answer, Natasha nods, sending a discreet wink towards Wanda. Her cheeks turn a shade of pink. She tries to hide it by eating the food.

They keep a light conversation going while they all finish their food. Once the plates are empty and the stomachs full, they start leaving the table and go to their rooms. The Queen doing the same. However, she isn’t alone for long.

There’s a knock on her bedroom door.

“Hello, Wanda.” Y/N smiles, the door now open wide. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Wanda steps into the room, the door closing after her. She looks around the room, trying to keep her eyes off of Y/N’s thin night gown. A big bed is in the middle of the room, it has light blue veil over it and a white fur on top. A window, almost the size of the wall, is on the right side of it, but it’s already covered with dark curtains. Otherwise the room is quite plain. A wooden dresser. Mirror with steel decorations. What catches Wanda’s eyes are the tapestries on the walls. They’re bright and colorful, each one having its own story. “Beautiful.” She mumbles.

“They tell our history.” Y/N steps beside her. “Every queen makes one. These are the oldest ones, the rest are in the library, visible for everyone. One day mine will be there too.” She sounds proud when she speaks of her ancestors.

“Your mother, is she still alive?”

“No. The crown passed down to me when I was thirteen.”

“I’m sorry.”

Y/N turns to her with a smile. “Nothing to be sorry about. She’s with her mother and grandmother, and so on. And one day I will see her again, until then, I will make her proud by keeping the people on this island safe.”

However beautiful the idea is, Wanda still feels sad for her. She knows what it’s like to lose your mother young. But she doesn’t comment on it more, clearly it’s not something appropriate to discuss now. “The magic. It feels different here.”

“Yes, it’s not the same as yours. The magic is part of me as much as it is a part of the island. We’re connected. We can sense each other. I can control it and it can influence me.”

“That’s why they call you Mother Nature?”

“Sort of. There’s a long history there. But yes, my ability to control the sea and the air around us is a part of it.”

“Maybe you’ll be able to tell me some day.”

Her smile widens. “Maybe.”

Wanda smiles too. She notices how Y/N’s eyes twinkle in the dim light, as if they had their own light source. “You’re beautiful.” The words stumble out of her mouth. She had no intention on making any mind of move this soon, but she couldn’t help it. This felt like a right moment.

With a small giggle, Y/N looks down, trying to cover her warming cheeks. She doesn’t usually get nervous, but Wanda sounded so sincere. “I’m flattered you think so.”

“Do you think you could go on a date with me? Later, of course. Do you have any rules on that?” The nervousness starts growing at the bottom of her stomach again, the lapse of confidence leaving her body quickly.

“There are some rules, but nothing major. I could definitely go on a date with you, I’d actually really like to do so.”

Letting out a breath, Wanda nods. Her hands are moving her rings around. “Great. I- uhm, that’s great.” She laughs quietly. “I’ll leave you now. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.” Y/N gives her a small wave, smiling widely even after the door closes.

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planet-marz1 · 1 year ago

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Some of my favorite fics! 💜

more of my favorite fics here

A Strangers Heart Without A Home by @morning-star-joy

A Safe Haven by @darkroastjoel

Fear Of God by @netherfeildren

Cruel Summer by @proxima-writes

Sun Bleached Flies by @breakfastatjoels

Refuge by @cool-iguana

The Way You Miss Me & Trial & Error by @thetriumphantpanda

Lavender & Yearling by @justagalwhowrites

Linger on , Surrendered Innocence , and Treat you Right by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

I Know the End by @mondaychildsworld

A Lover's Pinch & Under the Night by @hier--soir

Reflection of the Moon & Belong to me by @chloeangelic

Aquatic rehabilitation by @psychedelic-ink

Literally everything by @toxicanonymity

Poor Baby and Hard work gets rewarded by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Unforgivable Mistake by @lionlena

MaintenanceMan! Joel Miller by @gracieispunk

Your summer dream by @swiftispunk

Only angel by @bastardmandennis

Stockings by @atticrissfinch

Does your mother know? by @cupofjoel

Texas Sun by @from-the-clouds

The Waffle House Chronicles by @softlyspector

Wednesday Nights by @wakandas-vibranium

Dirty Lies by @lizi-writes

Soft & Sweet and Sugar & Spice by @cavillscurls

The Farmhouse by @astrid-sorensen

All glory & Sinful Reunion by @dev1lm4n

Who Do You Belong To Mr. Miller? by @tightjeansjavi

Bad Fun by @javiscigarette

Pierced by @thot-of-khonshu

Seams by @fuckyeahdindjarin

Dad's best friend by @jrrmint

Rock Me to Sleep by @randofantfic

Soft spot for trouble by @millerscoffee

A Learning Process & Exit Wounds by @strang3lov3

Rest in the cup of my palms by @tinycozycomfort

Elementary by @guess-my-next-obsession

Willow by @jenispunk

Feelings on fire by @joelscruff

Come Away With Me by @thetriumphantpanda

Deaf Ears, Loud Hearts & Of Reunions and Regrets by @blissfulbarbie

Study break by @rottenblur

Relax, baby by @party-hearses

Psycho bitch by @hellishjoel

Help, im stuck! By @nosesitter

March by @the-widow-miller

Thank you, Mr. Miller by @lovers-liability

Comfort You by @northernbluess

A Cup of Joel by @elvinaa

Of course this isn't all of them, just the ones I could remember at the top of my head I read soooo many fics💜 I'll try and keep this list updated and add more :)

If you have any suggestions send them to my inbox! 💌💗

#mari's fic recs #fic rec

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lottiesboy · 3 months ago

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poor bambi,,

pairing: cg!melissa schemmenti x little!masc!reader

summary: while at janine’s party, you regress and melissa comes to your rescue.

tags: sfw, fluff, age regression, mama!melissa, reader regresses to 2-3 years old, melissa calls you bambino/bambi, thumb sucking

melissa told you that janine was throwing a “last day of school” party and she wanted you to be her plus one. there was alcohol at the party, but you didn’t drink. melissa sure did.

janine’s way of partying was pretty complicated with all the different sections. you felt yourself getting little, but melissa was dancing with barbara and you thought she seemed a little busy. so you stayed in the section you felt safest in.

in janine’s bedroom with gregory, manny, and zach watching black panther: wakanda forever.

you pulled at gregory’s shirt, wanting to ask him something. “what’s up- aye, you okay, man? you look like you’re about to cry.”

“can you get ma- can you get melissa, please?”

gregory, nodding understandingly, got up to get melissa, while janine came storming in.

“change it back!! the movies not supposed to be compelling, guys.”

“..but namor.” manny pointed at the screen. “and angela.” zach added.

sooner or later, melissa came in seeing you on janine’s bed, hugging your legs to your chest. “alright, everybody out.” she said, shooing everyone out of the room and pausing the movie.

she shut the door in janine’s face before she could speak, coming to sit in front of you on the bed. “what’s wrong, bambi?”

“too loud, mama.” you referred to the bumping muffled music coming from the living room. “i know, sweetie.” she brushed away the tear that came from your eye.

“it looks like your mama’s little baby boy tonight. i’ll call us a cab and we’ll get out of here, how’s that?”

you nodded, sniffling a little. “don’t cry, bambino. c’mon, let’s go. where’s your jacket?”

you pointed in the direction of the living room, and melissa hoped it was on the coat rack.

“i gotta go.” melissa told janine and barbara. “not feeling too good.” she made up and excuse to get you out of there.

mr. johnson bid you two farewell and you and melissa walked down the sidewalk and she waved for a cab. the two of you got in, you immediately laying your head on melissa’s shoulder.

“good job tonight, bambi.” she stroked your hair. “paciii,” you whined quietly into melissa’s neck so the taxi driver wouldn’t hear you. “you’ll get it when we’re home, baby.” she patted your butt.

you whined softly, making melissa hush you. you brought your thumb up to your mouth and started sucking on it, making melissa almost stop you. as much as she didn’t like you sucking your thumb, she let you just for being so brave tonight.

as the taxi drove you and melissa home, the slow hum of the engine and the rocking of the car sent you straight to sleep.

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary agere #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #sfw agere #age regression #age regression sfw #sfw regression #agere #age regressor #sfw boyre #sfw interaction only #boyre #mine

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delicatebarness · 7 months ago

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i cant read your mind | chapter eight

Summary: Flashback to Wakanda.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Major The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Spoilers. Smut. Fluffy Smut. A hint of Angst at the end. Sergeant kink.

Word Count: 927

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A/N: Onto episode 4 now, most likely gonna be 3 parts for this one. I've had the idea of this chapter in my head forever and was so excited to finally write it. But, I am also excited to go back to annoyed Bucky next chapter when John's back in the picture.

Wakanda. Six Years Ago.

The Wakandan sun had set hours ago, around the same time Bucky left to meet with Ayo for another session. You stood by the window of his hut, staring out into the evening waiting for his return. Ayo had contacted you when they had finished for the night, explaining to you that he was free. Finally free from the brainwashing that had haunted him for so long. You immediately left the room that the Wakandans had prepared for you and made your way to Bucky’s hut.

As Bucky approached the hut, he saw you waiting for him. He entered without a word, closing the space between you in a few quick strides. He cupped your face, kissing you deeply, passionately. It was filled with a mix of relief, gratitude, a raw desire.

You responded immediately, your arms wrapping around his neck, trying to pull him closer. Your bodies pressed together as Bucky's hand dropped from your face, roaming your back.

Bucky broke the kiss for less than a second, his lips finding your body again as he trailed down your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, as your fingers tangled in his hair. A soft moan escaped your lips as he placed a soft kiss against a sensitive spot below your ear. His hand found its way to the gem of your shift, lifting it effortlessly over your head and tossing it aside before finding your lips with his again.

Undressing each other in haste, your clothes were discarded carelessly onto the hut floor. His eyes filled with hunger as his gaze met yours for a moment, taking in the image of you standing bare before him.

His voice was husky as he murmured, “You’re amazing, Baby Girl,”

You smiled, sliding your hand up and down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles and the scars on his shoulder. “And, you’re finally free, Sergeant,” you replied, your voice breathless with anticipation.

Without another word, he lifted you and carried you to the makeshift bed. Laying you down, his eyes danced over your body, taking in every inch of you. His lips captured yours in a hungry kiss and he positioned himself above you. You arched into his touch as his hand explored your body, your nails digging into him.

Your kisses grew more desperate as his fingers found their way to your inner thigh, teasing his way up to your entrance with gentle strokes. The stokes continued as he reached it. You moaned into his mouth, hips moving in rhythm with his touch.

Unable to wait any longer, he positioned himself where his fingers previously were, his gaze stayed locked with yours. And, with a single thrust, he buried himself deep inside you. You gasped at the sensation.

Once he began to move, his hips rocked against yours in a slow steady rhythm. Your back arched off the bed as the pleasure consumed you. His name fell from your lips, driving him to push harder.

Each movement was deliberate, every touch ignited the desire and longing for one another that neither of your minds let you admit. His thrusts were measured, driving deeper into your core. A chorus of moans and sighs from both your lips filled the hut.

The sensation of him filling you caused you to wrap your legs around his waist as a wave of pleasure coursed through you.

The tension within you grew, the pleasure building, it was almost unbearable. You were teetering on the edge, Bucky’s movement grew more urgent as your mumbled begs strained from your voice. “Please, Sergeant, please.”

“Please what, baby?” his voice whispered against your ear, his lips finding your neck again.

“Please can I finish, Sergeant?” you pleaded, your voice thick with need and desperation.

You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your skin, and he continued with his steady, hard thrusts. Each one pushed you closer and closer. He knew exactly what you needed, he could feel the tension within you reaching its breaking point.

“Let go for me,” he murmured as his grip on your hips tightened. “Let me feel you come apart, baby.”

His permission pushed you over the edge, and with a ragged cry, you shattered beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure rushed through you as he continued his rhythm.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth bored into your skin as his high followed closely behind yours. His body began to tremble with the aftershock of his climax.

Bucky collapsed beside you, and then for a long while, neither of you spoke. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex and the only sound was your ragged breaths.

A realization washed over you like a wave crashing. For the first time, he had been gentle and tender. It was filled with emotion and connection. Something that was a stark contrast to the aggressive, rough encounters that would normally leave your body looking like you just came back from an intense mission.

The weight became too much to bear, you began to gather your clothes from the floor. The simple act of dressing provided you with a sense of normalcy.

You felt his intense gaze watching you silently.

“I… I think I should go,” you murmured, unable to turn to face him.

Without a word from him, you slipped out of the hut, leaving behind the warmth and intimacy. Instead, enveloping yourself with cool night air as tears stung at the corners of your eyes.

---

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