Wade Fucking Wilson. I Love You. I'd Die For You.

HAHAHAHA bucky being a horndog is so cute

Loud Thoughts

Summary: Bucky has been a bit off lately and Steve is growing concerned: he asks Wanda to take a peek at his thoughts and is surprised at what she finds.

Word Count: 2.8k

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: sexual themes, swearing

Masterlist

“You want me to, what?”

Steve bit his bottom lip, his head tilted down as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Look — I know how bad that sounds. Normally I wouldn’t ask you to do this but I’m worried about him. Buck has been doing really well since he got back from Wakanda, but now… something’s off.”

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek, nodding slowly. She agreed; he had been recovering well, it was noticeable. Bucky had only been here for a couple months but he was adjusting nicely; getting comfortable with the routine, getting friendly with the team, getting back to being Bucky again.

“Did something happen? Like — a bad day, or a trigger?” Wanda asked. She recounted the last time Barnes was in the field. “Wasn’t his last mission a success?”

He shook his head, thinking of the mission report Bucky had made.

“Not that I can think of—and yeah it was. Couldn’t have been that.”

He hadn’t had any run ins with the agents, no one reported any issues. Bucky was clear on all accounts; so what was going on?

“He just seems out of it,” Steve continued, “Like he’s somewhere else. And he’s jumpy. That isn’t like him, he’s a soldier for God’s sake. He’s got some steel in there.”

Steve tapped his head for effect, “Ya’ know?”

Wanda puffed out her cheeks, she didn’t feel right about reading Bucky’s mind but Steve was right. Bucky had seemed a little distant lately—he was never present in the moment. Steve was only asking out of the goodness of his heart. Wanda wanted what was best for the team and finding out what was messing with Barnes was part of that.

She pursed her lips as she stared at the super soldier. “Just once, that’s all?”

Steve nodded eagerly, “Yes! Just once to see what’s on his mind, that’s it. I just—I need something to work with, he won’t give me anything.”

Wanda understood, if Bucky wouldn’t talk to Steve about what was bothering him then it had to be serious.

Wanda weighed her options: do it and you’ve completely violated someone’s privacy, DON’T do it and have Steve continue begging you with those big blue eyes…

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Gojo does make megumi smile

they just get each other

Nagi, Chigiri & Barou~♥

*More art on Patreon ~

I want two boys to fight over me too

Pet Names

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary: The boys wonder why you don’t have any pet names for them. A/N: 2 of ?? Snapshots between you, Steve, and Bucky. In the same canon as Mystery of Love– check it out first :) 

They have so many for you: Angel, darling, sweetheart, kitten, honey. All tender and easily passing over their lips any chance they get. Some were more creative: doll-baby, honeybunny, pumpkin, cherub. Some of them would stoke fires in your cheeks just at the sound of their silly syllables rolling off your lovers’ tongues.

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Madness

Hi, I love your work so much! Sorry this might be kind of long: I was hoping you could do an amazing Spider-Man imagine where instead of Peter getting sucked into the mcu, the reader somehow gets sucked into TASM universe. Reader is an avenger with some sort of powers so could you somehow include when she first enters the universe she meets face to face with Spider-Man in a dark alleyway or something and obviously gets really freaked out and tries to attack him because she thinks he’s a threat. Idk just some sort of a small angsty fight and love at first sight sort of thing pls haha thank you <3

You and Me

PAIRING: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Avenger!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

NOTES: both Peter and reader are 21 so she can drink. also there is one f bomb. but bro if it were me, I’d drop everything and live with Peter in his universe, life would be great <3

“BOOM! And that’s how ya do it,” Sam hollers, throwing his cards down on the table. Steve throws his cards down, Bucky and Natasha immediately shake their heads and cause a fit, and you, well... you weren’t about to let him win. 

“You sure about that, bird man?” you grin, placing your cards over his. 

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me,” Bucky practically cackles, while Sam stares blankly with his jaw dropped open. Natasha grins wide, patting you on the back. 

“Atta girl, finally beat the bastard,” she says. Steve still smiles as you get up and walk over to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. 

“About time, huh Sam? Couldn’t let you keep stealing all the thunder, right?” you laugh as you drink out of the bottle before letting it tip to pour into the small glass you pulled out of the cupboard. No one responds, and your eyebrows crinkle up in confusion. “What, are you getting pissy with me?” 

“Y/N...” Natasha’s voice calls out with fear, making you abandon the kitchen, running back to the room to make sure she’s alright. You don’t know what you’re looking at when she makes eye contact with you. Sam and Steve are gone, and Bucky... he’s standing looking down at his hands, looking like he’s... glitching? You don’t know how to even describe it, and he lifts his head to see you one last time before he just disappears. 

“Nat, what’s happening,” your voice shakes, and you look back at her before she stumbles towards you, grabbing your forearms and forcing you to look in her eyes. 

“Stay strong, alright?” and just like that, she’s gone too. You don’t even realize tears are streaming down your face until you feel the wetness on your hands, the hands that were just holding one of your best friends. 

“No, no, no, no!” you scream and panic, not knowing the first thing to do. Before you even have another moment to think, it feels like your brain goes fuzzy and you can’t concentrate, everything seems so out of place and the earth feels like it’s spinning. Your hands clutch your head and you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping the end doesn’t hurt as much you thought it did. When you open your eyes, you’re not in the compound.

Your knees buckle and you fall to the ground, your hands splaying out in front of you so your face doesn’t make impact with the ground. Your breathing is erratic and you can’t think, can’t speak without wanting to scream. So much fear is running through your bones that you don’t even realize where you are until you sort of start to get your bearings.

1, 2, 3... inhale...exhale

You take three deep breaths, counting in your head, allowing yourself to get a grip. Have to start thinking. Have to start doing something. You hear a garbage can clang against the ground, and you let yourself calm when you realize that was just you. Sometimes when you were under stress or panic, your powers would go out of control and things would go haywire. You try to focus your mind, not to let your powers get a hold of you. Telekinesis wasn’t always a gift. Standing up, you take a look around, finding that you’re in some dark alley way in what looks to be New York. You had to have gotten drunk or something, there has to be a reasonable explanation for this. Or this is just some nightmare you haven’t woken up from yet, so you pinch yourself to make sure.

No, you’re definitely awake.

Attempting to walk, you take a couple steps, going slow to make sure you don’t fall again. By now, you have more focus, but so many questions are bouncing around your head. It’s night out, bright lights at the end of the alley from the busy streets of New York, and loud sounds coming from honking cars and so many people. Every few minutes, people will pass by and you shrink further into the shadows, hoping to conceal yourself from anyone’s view. You hear a faint noise from above you, looking up the fire escape on the side of the building. At first you don’t see anything, but suddenly, a red and blue figure jumps down landing in front of you, shooting an arm forward which makes you think this person has a gun, so you throw him to the side, launching him into the brick wall beside you. You hear a groan, and before you can react, a web attaches itself to your hand and throws you back into the wall, making your hand trapped. The person in the strange suit is already up on their feet, making slow steps towards you.

“Slow down, I’m not gonna-” they start, but you slip the hidden knife from under your shirt, always having one on you, cutting the web away quickly before you’re already throwing the knife at them. “What the h-”

Despite their obvious shock that you just used your mind to get the knife back, they side step it quickly, catching the handle and throwing it over their shoulder, which makes you tilt your head in confusion. No one has ever been able to catch your knives before, the only way would be to expect it coming, and no one ever does. “Look, miss... I’m only trying to-” they start again, but you use your powers to pull the knife back towards you, it flying back into your hand so you can advance on the masked person in front of you. You don’t think, you just fight. Listening to the voice, it sounds like a man, and from the looks of him, you just assume for the time being. He still tries to talk to you as you slash the air in front of you, making him back up and avoid every single slash you’ve attempted to make. He knocks the knife out of your hand, grabbing your wrist with a tight grip. Surprisingly, he’s a lot stronger than you originally thought, and despite probably knowing that you won’t escape his grip, you fight against him. 

“Let me go, let me go!” you yell, hitting him hard in the chest, but he doesn’t budge. He webs your wrists together, tugging you against him so you’re unable to move. Everything inside you is screaming to fight back, punch, kick, do whatever you can to escape his grasp, but you only squirm and stare him in the face with panic. Letting go of you with one hand, he quickly brings his hand up to tug off the mask, pulling it off his head and grabbing you again. 

“Look at me, look at me... I’m not gonna hurt you, I won’t hurt you. Just calm down, calm down...” he says comfortingly, with a soft look on his face. His hands stroke your arms up and down and your hands stay webbed in front of you. He’s young, most likely around your age, with curly brown hair and warm honey eyes that make you want to melt to the floor. He’s pretty, but in a boyish way that makes you want to never stop staring at him. “Take a deep breath for me okay? Can you do that?”

You nod your head, slightly shaking from the adrenaline, but he holds you as you take a few deep breaths. 

“Good, you’re doing great! Can you tell me who you are, or how you just used your mind to take that knife back?” he tries a grin, but your eyes widen and you remember that you don’t know where you are and that all your friends just disappeared in front of your eyes. This man is most likely not the reason your friends are gone, but even despite the kind words and the fact that he’s not trying to kill you, you step back and attempt to break free from your bonds.

Peter panics, webbing you again, pulling you against his chest. Not even ten minutes ago he’s swinging around New York, and then all of a sudden, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he can almost feel a presence near him, a potential threat but... not exactly. He had swung as fast as he could, not even knowing where he was going, but as soon as he saw you, he knew something wasn’t right. You were absolutely beautiful, probably the most breathtaking woman he’s ever seen, but something inside him is telling him that you need to be detained. But looking at you, all he could see was a frightened girl who didn’t know where she was, and his first instinct was to help you. 

Your breathing picks up again, and tears start to fill your eyes. You squeeze them shut, bringing up your fists to cover your face. You almost never cry, but in this moment, you feel like your lungs are constricting and everything is hopeless. 

They’re gone.

I won’t find them. 

They’re already dead.

You’re lost. 

They. are. gone.

“Hey, hey! Listen to me, you’re alright, nothing’s going to hurt you. You’re safe, I got you. Just breathe...” his hands grab your face and pull you up, your bound hands falling and your eyes dropping with them. He follows your gaze, quickly breaking them, making your hands grip his fiercely. “What’s your name, tell me your name love, focus on that,” he says, all seriousness written in his features. 

“Y-Y/N..” you manage, your tearful eyes meeting his and he smiles. 

“Good, you’re doing so good Y/N, do you know where you are?” 

You blink, more tears falling down your face, “I don’t know, I don’t know-” Before you can panic even more he diverts your attention back to his face, reeling you back in. 

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay! You’re in Queens, do you know where that is?”

“N-New York,” you sputter, tightening your grip.

“Yeah! Yeah, you’re right. Do you live around here? Can I get you home or call someone?” You shrug your shoulders, not really knowing what to say. Something inside you is telling you that you are nowhere near home, even though he just said you’re in New York. As you think even more, everyone in New York, practically everyone in the world knows who you are, you’re an avenger. How does he not recognize you? And wouldn’t you know if there was another vigilante running around? 

He nods his head, “Okay, well, I’ll take you to the police station so-”

“No! No, don’t take me there, I need-” you shake your head violently, “I-I just need to know how I got here. I was at the compound with Steve Rogers and-” 

“Is Steve your friend, can we call him?” he interrupts, trying to find the quickest possible solution to help you. You stare at him with a blank face.

“You don’t know who Captain America is?” Now it’s his turn to look confused. 

“Who?” You gasp, pulling away from him, bringing your hands to your head.

“No, no, no, no, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening. I thought maybe there was a possibility, but I never thought I could be right. There’s no way, no way-” 

He grabs your face again to look at you, “What are you talking about, what could you be right about? Where are you from, Y/N?”

“Queens...” you mumble, “Queens, New York. But not this, Queens.” For a moment, you think you’re gonna have to explain yourself but, for some reason, it looks like he knows exactly what you’re talking about. 

“The multiverse...” he whispers quietly. You nod your head, confirming what you both are thinking, and he opens his mouth but closes it again. 

“I don’t know how I got here, but I need help...” you say frantically, “my friends... they may have somehow gone to other universes too, and I don’t know how to get back!” You’re both quiet for a moment, and your ragged breathing starts to slow after a bit. You didn’t even realize he was still holding you, gently rubbing your arms. He stopped, giving you a nod.

“I’m Spider-Man,” he says, with a tight lipped smile. 

You look at him weird, “Is that like your alter-ego name or...” 

He blushes a little bit, “Right! No, yeah that’s my alter-ego name, my real name’s Peter Parker.” 

“Thank you, Peter Parker,” you say quietly, suddenly shy because you didn’t even know him yet and you already made a fool of yourself.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I’m glad I could help, even a little bit,” he nods his head. Noticing he’s still holding you, he lets go, rubbing his hands down his side and scratching the back of his head. 

“So um, you wanna come back to my place? You can stay with me until we figure out how to get you back?” He asks, avoiding your eye until he quickly adds, “Only if you want to of course!” 

You laugh a little, nodding your head, “Sure, thank you.”

“No problem at all,” he says. He puts his mask back on and puts your arms around his neck, then tightly holds you around the waist. “Hold on tight!”

... 

3 months later

“Ow!” Peter groans, throwing his head back on the chair. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you mutter through your teeth, trying to stitch his side as quickly as you can. Ever since you starting staying with him, you would always patch him up when he’d come home after a long night. He told you you didn’t have to pay him back for staying with him, but you offered to do things to help out anyway. One of those things being patching him up when he’s hurt. And right now, even though he’s the one in pain, he’s trying to comfort you, because he knows you don’t like seeing him like this. 

“It’s fine, just stung,” he looks down at his wound before looking back up at you. You were concentrated, your tongue poking out like it always does when you’re focused. He can’t help but hiss again, grabbing your arm as he groans in pain. You cry out again and again that you’re sorry, but he only rubs your arm in comfort, letting you know you have nothing to be sorry for.

“I’m done, I’m done now,” you breath out, placing a bandage over it so it doesn’t tear. You smooth it gently onto his skin, as carefully as you can. He breaths out a sigh of relief, picking his head up to look at it. 

“Good job, better than I would have done,” he says jokingly. You roll your eyes, knowing that it was a total lie. 

“Don’t boost my ego too much, Parker,” you smirk, handing him a bottle of water and some medicine to make him feel better. He waves it off, and you give him a look. 

“I’ll be fine in a couple of hours, don’t worry.”

“You say that, but last time when I woke up you were still groaning in pain! Take the damn medicine,” you say sternly. He chuckles, giving you a smile.

“Yes, ma’am.” You blush a little bit, getting up to wash your hands in the bathroom. When you come back, he’s pushing himself off the stair, standing up with a hand on his abdomen. 

“Hey, where do you think you’re going mister?” you run over to him, catching him right before he fell back down. He puts his other arm around your neck, keeping you there as you attempt to get him back down. 

“Ya know, I never had this,” he says, looking into your eyes. You hold him, but don’t try to move this time. 

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly. 

“Before I met you... nobody patched me up when I came home. I don’t let my Aunt May see any part of what I do, and... I don’t have very many friends,” he laughs.

“Why not?” you ask.

He frowns a little, “I can’t put anybody in danger, them knowing me... it could ruin their life.” 

“I know the feeling,” you force out a laugh, your gaze towards the floor. You’re both quiet a moment, his finger eventually coming up to lift your chin to look up at him. You stare at him, watching his eyes jump between your lips and your eyes. “Peter-” 

Suddenly, his face rushes towards you and his lips touch yours gently, almost shyly at first, before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and his hands hold your face close to his. His hands slide down to your neck, slowly, and then down to your waist, where he grips you and holds you closer to him tighter. You take his face in your hands and move back, taking a deep breath and resting your forehead on his. 

“I’ve wanted to do that since the minute I laid eyes on you,” he mutters, one hand coming up to rub your cheek gently. You lean into his hand, kissing his palm gently. 

“Why now?” 

He doesn’t know what to say first. Honestly he doesn’t really know the answer to that. But he knows the first time he saw you, it almost felt like seeing a sunset for the first time. Or eating your favorite food after a really long day. Or coming out of water for a breath of fresh air. It felt like falling in love. 

“I couldn’t hold it in any longer,” he shakes his head, “Meeting you that day felt like I just met the most important person in my life. It felt like I could finally breath after all the air got sucked out of my lungs, it felt like I fell in love.”

You shake your head, closing your eyes and dropping your head onto his shoulder, “Peter-” 

“You don’t have to say anything-”

“I love you.” 

Peter’s eyes widen, and then he smiles so big it almost makes you stop crying. Almost. When he realizes you’re crying because you’re upset, his eyes turn sad and his hands grip your face.

“Baby, why are you crying? I love you-”

“I’m so scared,” you sputter out, hating to see the worry in his face that you’re taking your confession back, “I really miss my friends, but I fell in love with you and I wouldn’t be able to go back.”

“Hey, look at me,” he says, “I would go anywhere you go. Fuck the universe, alright? It’s you and me now, you got that?” You shake your head fiercely, making him smile at you and rest his lips on your forehead. 

“You and me?”

“You and me.”

DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY

ROBERT DOWNEY JR. IRON MAN 2 - dir. Jon Favreau

This is what I needed

toji wolverine

🤣🤣🤣🤣 I'm about to join nanami 🤣🤣🤣🤣

“. . do you . . know what happens after death, sweetheart?”

the words that slipped out of nanami’s lips struck you right in the very depths of your heart.

it stung—a sharp prod that made the very crevices of your mouth twitch. his hands, his once warm and loving hands started to grow abnormally cold. frigid to where you even started to adapt to his chilled temperature.

“no why….” you started, feeling your throat tighten. “why are you asking me that, kento?” you sniffle, tightly interlocking your fingers with his.

he stares at you with a warm smile spreading across his lips.

regardless of his current position, peacefully resting his back against the ground—his inevitable fate had finally caught up to him.

nanami’s breathing patterns changed significantly. everything was so loud, all he could make out through his peripherals was splotches of blur and your pretty worried face. “. . because,” he continues, and his speech was so slow. you could tell he was trying to get every word out, every syllable, every vowel. just for you and only you. “i’m about to find out, my love . .”

your irises focused on him. nothing else, no one else—just him.

you’ve never seen him like this. so pale, so weak, so . . . scared.

his pure emotion, it showed in his eyes. his perfect brown eyes that you never failed to get lost in. for the first time in what was probably forever, nanami felt…scared. he tried his best to conceal it in front of you though. but even his best wasn’t enough, because you probably knew him better than you knew yourself.

“don’t say things like that, kento,” you mutter, already feeling that annoying plump knot rise up in your throat. your breath was shaky, tremble after tremble. “you’re fine. you can get up. we can get up.”

he knew when you said we, you implied that you’d both be walking away together — hand in hand, like in those stupid cheesy movies you’d watch with him every sunday after he gets off work. but alas, reality was quite harsh to face. an even more incredible tough pill to swallow. nanami knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

it was irksome, you had to squeeze your eyes shut to prevent a single tear to roll down your cheek.

nanami’s eyelids were hanging on by a thread, just barely open. he was trying—trying so hard to hang on, a small pout curls against his lips before he huffs out a single breath.

“ah . . forgive me, you’re right,” he says, his thumb swiftly stroking the front of your hand. a single tear escapes past your lower damp eyelid. even his voice sounded different. a voice you grew to love, so sweet and protective. it now sounded incredibly tired. you could hear a slight wheeze between breaths of his. “hey, don’t cry. don’t do that, look at me.”

his voice was so soft, you sniffled—despising the irritating tears that started to run down both sides of your temples. if it was anything nanami couldn’t stand, it was that he couldn’t stand to see the love of his life shed such sweet pitiful tears for him.

you looked at him, watching his eyelids struggle to stay open for you. everything ached, his body didn’t even feel like his own anymore. it was an indescribable feeling from when he got struck, laying against the slick cold floor of the shibuya train station.

“. . d-don’t leave me,” was all you managed to say, your lips was trembling, your heart pounded and you didn’t wanna say goodbye just yet. “kento, i need you.”

“hm? what are you mumblin’ about, sweetheart? ‘m right here.” his voice, it sounded happier.

you furrowed your eyebrows, now finding yourself buried into nanami’s bare chest, damp chin pressing against his pecs and all.

you were here safe and sound, snuggled up all against him, as you should be. it took you a long while to calm down, he’s staring at you with a soft loving gaze—a brief look of concern before you mumble out a, “..kento? are you okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be, baby?” nanami hums, a soft thumb stroking your back. with a relaxed breath, he leans in to plant a gentle kiss near the very tip of your forehead. his touch was forevermore soothing, a touch you never wanted to forget.

you let off a jittery sigh of relief, finally coming to the conclusion that it was another one of your horrid nightmares. you had nothing to worry about.

he was fine.

you were fine,

everything was fine.

. . is what you kept telling yourself.

nanami never told you those words, he didn’t kiss the tip of your forehead or stroke your back lovingly whilst staring into your eyes. the only true unbearable truth was that nanami was gone.

he was gone, and his last words weren’t even “i love you,” or “i’m sorry.” on his fatal dying breaths, nanami’s last words to you while squeezing your hand, sliding a ring into your palm, he rasps out a breathy, “will . . you marry me?”

but before you could tell him yes, he was already gone.

gojo hates condoms ☆

not even in an ‘i can’t feel a thing’ frat-fuck way either. he just wants to be close to you. he’s touch starved as it is and being inside of you is quite literally the closet he can be to you. why would he want a barrier between his achy length and your silken walls?

he hates condoms. hates them like they’re pointing south on his moral compass. hates them like they hurt to use—which they do, in a way—the mental anguish feels real to him, at least. he picks up a fuss in the grocery store when you pull a pack of ribbed condoms from the shelf to try because why would you seek pleasure from artificial ridges when the protruding veins of his cock would feel just as good if not dressed in a condom?

sometimes he eats you out for twice as long as usual to get you really fucked out and dumb. he’ll make you cum hard and fast and so much that your mind is a mess in the hopes that you’ll forget all about your safety precautions and let him feel you from the inside out. but you always catch on. with a tsk and a finger pointed to the draw where he keeps the horrid things out of sight.

so when you let him fuck you raw for the first time, gojo is reeling. it’s on the condition that he promises to pull out, and promise he does—with a pinky finger hooked around yours and his lips to his thumb—he promises to pull out.

he decides on missionary, because as much as he loves the hundred different positions he knows how to wrangle you into, he wants to connect with you. to make love, not fuck.

and even your wetness against his tip is enough to jolt his stomach downwards. collecting your glossing over his angry head as he rubs himself up and down your folds—he would cum just like this if he wasn’t so stuck on feeling all of you. you’re warm and wet and tight as he pushes against your entrance and oh god he’s going to cum already.

“oh,” he stills, eyes deadset on yours as he slides into you. his tip is rubbing against that spot that makes your back arch upwards and it takes everything in you not to laugh at the distraught look on his face as he says “i have to pull out.”

“you’re joking, right?”

“i really wish i was baby,” he looks pained. he’s never felt something so heavenly and ungodly at the same time. he wants to do bad things, to fuck you into the mattress and breed you full of himself until you’re too weak to care about the aftermath of such recklessness. “i can’t pull out.”

“what?” you laugh, his balls tighten at the sound.

“if i move—” satoru has never looked so serious, “—i will cum. this was a bad idea. why would you let me do this?”

“you’re the one always—”

“actually don’t argue with me, you know what it does to me.” he squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on anything other then the way you feel around him. he does math in his head, thinks about the people he’s killed, how much he loves you… how pretty you look right now… growing old with you.

“i swear you’re getting harder inside of—”

“imsorryiloveyoubutpleasebequietorelseyouaregoingtogetpregnant.”

it takes him a minute of mental gymnastics to feel confident enough to start slowly sliding out of you, but all hope dies when the heel of your foot presses against his ass and with a smile made of sin you pull him deeper inside of you.

he opens his mouth to protest, to tell you he is not joking and all that comes out is a beautiful strangled moan that makes you tighten around him. for a man who claims to be the strongest he is rather weak-willed when it comes to your pussy. he needs to cum so hard that it hurts, but a fear of maybe ruining your life and relationship digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“don’t do this to me,” he whines.

but you’re smiling. you’re so tight and wet and beautiful and everything he’s ever dreamt of having and holding and you’re smiling. “satoru,” you say, and he’s weak. “cum inside.”

anything for you. it’s gorgeous: the way he lets loose, falling forward to press all his weight into you as he groans and his balls release in hot spurts that you can feel painting your insides white. it’s the connection, the intimacy, the tears that prick at his eyes.

and he doesn’t pull out. no, he presses his hips forward to fuck his cum as deep into you as he possibly can and he vows to throw out every condom in the goddamn house.

god he hates condoms.

I don't think I've ever read something so real, so angsty and so beautiful at the same time. I know it's quite literally fanfiction, but I think everyone can learn something from this story; no matter how hard life gets, never give up. There will always be someone there to love and support you every step of the way.

As It Was III: True

Summary:  The last chapter of As It Was, told from your perspective.   

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N:  Thank you for all your support! This is, so far, my favorite (mini) series I’ve ever written. I’m so glad to have done it. I hope you liked it as much as I did!! 5.2k word count. Angst. Healing. A lot of Bucky love. 

You haven’t always been soft.

It used to be hard and fast, scorched and salted earth, with your troublesome heart throwing you headfirst into every fight. In the past, your recklessness was a running joke with the team after they lost you in Alaska and upon the third hour of searching, Steve and Bucky came upon a burning semi with you standing nearby, shuddering in the polar night.

They had rushed forward, grabbed the back of your suit and tore you from the truck before it could explode. In-between clipped and frozen breaths, you screamed, It’s dark as shit! And cold! I had to set that thing on fire! You found me, didn’t you?!

Did you have to? Bucky rolled his eyes as the vehicle burst apart, blazing shrapnel whizzing through the black, or did you want to?

Steve snickered, pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. Baby, you’re a mess.

It used to be a bruising kind of love, raw and open, and all for Steve. He saw and knew every facet of you from every angle, even the ones you hid away. You let him dig inside of your rib cage, wrap himself around your heart, and sleep in your blood until you couldn’t untangle which part was you and which part was him.

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