This Is Going To Be The Start Of A New Obsession

This is what I needed

toji wolverine

HELLO THE ENDING???? THAT'S SO FUNNY

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Something's completely altered your behavior, and Sukuna can't say that he hates it.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, dub-con, sex pollen, vaginal fingering, double penetration, slight nipple play, vaginal sex, anal sex, squirting, creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Sukuna.” You call out to him, and when he turns to see you, a genuine look of concern overtakes his face. Sweat drips down your forehead as you try to maintain your composure. You’re clearly altered by something.

“What’s up with you?” Sukuna’s hands go to your torso in fear that you might tumble over. Your hands go behind his neck, “Why are you–”

“I was in the garden and there was this strange flower–” You can’t even finish your sentence. You’re trying to bring him down to meet your lips, muttering, “I need you. Fuck me, please please please.”

“Putting on a show for everyone?” He’s trying to tease you. Every time he even dares do something suggestive, you get too shy but you’re different today. Your lips land on his, a seething hunger flowing through you, one that only he can calm down.

Your tongue goes past his parted lips and into his mouth, wandering around until it finds his own. You’re pressing your body against his with pure desperation. You need something, and you need it now. Sukuna is not the type to really care about this type of stuff but he’s concerned because this isn’t how you usually are.

“Do me, right now.” You’re taking off your attire in the hallway, not caring if anyone that works in the place sees you. You need him, that’s all that you care about right now. Before he can even blink, you’re completely naked.

He pulls away, grabbing some of the robes on the ground and putting it over you. He’ll fulfill your wish, but first he needs some privacy. He couldn’t have cared less at first, but now he gets jealous at the mere thought of anyone seeing you naked. He hates how possessive he’s become over a woman. 

“I don’t want you to put a show on for everyone.” He says before picking you up and taking you away to his room. He has other plans, Sukuna is a busy being, but all it takes is you with a request to swoop him away.

What’s more important right now is him helping you with whatever you need. All he got was that you were in the garden… Then you became the mess that you are right now. Not that he can complain.

He lays you down, taking off the robe that barely covers you. A smirk comes to his lips, admiring your body before his lips go down to meet yours for a brief moment. When he pulls away, you take action.

“Touch me here.” You grab his hand, taking it to your pussy. You’re already soaking wet, and he’s done nothing… What is up with you? Though he can’t exactly complain about it. His fingers run through your folds, gathering your slick before pushing a digit inside of you.

“You’re pulsing around me.” He comments as he inserts another finger into your cunt. You sound so lewd as he moves his fingers in and out of you, your back arching and eyes rolling to the back of your head. He sees your hand go down to play with your clit, in desperate need for more stimulation. He’s never seen you act like this. “You’re a needy slut today.”

“I need more.” You mutter as his hand goes to your wrist, stopping you from playing with yourself. You whine until he replaces it with his hand, strong fingers circling your clit and filling you with pleasure. You’re melting under his touch, your moans getting louder by the second. 

You’re clenching around his thick fingers, already on the brink of an orgasm. He’s smirking, seeing that you’re a mess around him already. You’re mindlessly moaning his name as pleasure overtakes your body. You need to come.

“You’re not going to get it so fast.” He pulls his fingers out of your cunt, and they’re completely covered by your juices. He brings them up to your lips, forcing them into your mouth. “Clean them up.”

You’re humming on his fingers, rolling your tongue around them. You want to push them out and beg for him to fuck you. You need him. You need to feel his warmth inside of you desperately. You feverishly need it, your cunt is begging for it.

He takes his fingers out of your mouth, and immediately, you’re begging, “Please fuck me, Suku. Please. I need you so bad.”

“You’re so pathetic.” He tells you, taking off his robes to do as you beg. He loves to hear the begging from your lips, it’s satisfying. He’d make you please him first, but you’re clearly in need of him. You act as if you might die if he wastes another second.

You bite down your lip as you watch him get undressed, what takes you by surprise is Sukuna laying down, a pair of his arms meeting behind his head. He licks his lips before telling you, “If you want it, come and get it.”

“You’re so mean.” You respond as you get on top of him. You’re dripping on him, wetter than usual. He’s barely even touched you.

You align his top dick with your entrance, and slowly insert him inside of you. You loudly moan as his cock stretches you out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fills you up. He loves the look on your face, as you take his cock. 

“Aren’t you going to move?” He’s teasing you, though you couldn’t care less what he has to say. Your mind is elsewhere. You begin to move back and forth, his cock hitting your sweet spot. You’re moaning loudly, unable to bear it.

Your pussy feels so tight around Sukuna, it takes everything in him to control himself. He needs to feel all of you. One of his large hands goes to your boobs, fingers pinching your nipple before a mouth appears on his hand and tongue circles around it. 

“It’s so good, Suku.” You moan, throwing your head back as you bounce on his cock. It’s soothing the hunger that flows through your veins. It satisfies him as well. One of his hands goes to the unattended cock, thumb swiping over his slit, spreading the pre cum before he begins to jerk himself off. 

“Fuck…” You curse as your hand goes down to rub your clit. You’re squeezing around him, on the brink of an orgasm. Sukuna is biting his tongue, holding back on praises as he feels your cunt clench around his cock. He can’t praise you when one of his cocks is in his hands and he jerks himself off.

You throw your head back, reaching your climax and squirting all over him. He couldn’t be prouder of you as you make a mess all over him, coating his torso with your squirt– Though that pride fades away when you take his cock out of you.

“What are you–” He begins but you turn around before you put the bottom cock in your pussy. Your hunger still lingers. He needs a bit more though, so he grabs the unattended cock and teases your asshole. 

As you lower yourself on his cock again, he pushes his cock into your asshole. You loudly moan as both of your holes are filled up. This is just what you needed. You give yourself a moment to adjust before you begin to move, but Sukuna takes over. He begins to move his hips, setting a much faster pace.

“Is this enough for you?” He sounds mocking as he takes over. His fingers play with your clit, and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head again. This is what you need, what’ll soothe the need that you have. 

“Yes!” You practically yell, pleasure consuming you. Nails dig into your hips as Sukuna thrusts in and out of you. You’re making a mess all over him, and he couldn’t be happier.

His breath gets caught up in his chest, movements getting sloppy as he feels his release near. You feel so perfect around him, he’s not going to last forever. Especially not with how you’re acting right now, he can’t contain himself. He comes to a swift stop, filling both of your holes with so much of his warm cum. 

He doesn’t resume moving, and you take it upon yourself to move once again. You’re milking his cock, in need of more. You plainly say, “I need more.”

Sukuna’s duty is far from over.

You nearly kill Sukuna to calm down the hunger that consumes you. He had no idea that you out of all people could do this to him. He’s so tired, he needs a week away from you to recover.

“Uraume, what do you need?” Sukuna asks as he opens the door to his room. He’s sent you away, claiming that he’s sick and doesn’t want to infect you– Matter of fact, he’s terrified of you right now. He sticks his head out of the door, looking to see if there’s a sign of you in the hallway. Once he knows he’s safe, he lets Uraume inside. “What is it?”

“I found the reason why your wife has been acting unusual.” Uraume speaks, and Sukuna’s interest is piqued. He needs the answer so the event doesn’t repeat. Yes, it was enjoyable at first… Until the man was holding on to dear life while you begged for more.

“What caused this?” He’s never been more desperate for an answer. Uraume demonstrates the strange flower you were talking about, something that must be a mutation from a curse or something similar. It’s definitely unusual.

“Don’t smell it.” Uraume warns him, passing on the blue colored flower to Sukuna. Sukuna’s shaking as he holds it, scared that temptation will get the best of him and he’ll do the one thing he was warned not to do.

“Destroy it. Burn the garden and we’ll grow more flowers.” Sukuna orders, and Uraume chuckles. It’s hilarious to hear about how you tired him out. Sukuna glares at Uraume, and they apologize.

“I’ll get right on it, my lord.” Uraume nods. Before they leave, they relay the message, "Your wife has been asking for you."

"Tell her I died."

Just thinking about Sylus giving you attitude when he mimics your words during the event, but he really hates when you flip it back on him... especially when it means you stop begging/talking to him next time you have sex as revenge.

Best believe he's pounding you deep into the mattress as soon as he realized what you're doing, nonstop filth coming out of his mouth as he begs you to forgive him and let him hear you once more as you fight nearly to tears to keep your sounds muffled just to torture him a little longer.

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.

His Second Chance

Everything was groggy when you finally came back, a sting in your neck making it painful to move.

Ignoring the pain the best you could, you looked around, only to see you were back in Miles' room.

But, not really. This wasn't your world.

Once it hit that you didn't wake up back at home, in bed with your Miles you sat up quickly, trying to move out of bed only to see your hands were tied and your ankles.

They weren't tied harshly, like the one who tied them with care, careful not to hurt you even when you moved around but strong enough you couldn't get out.

"What- what the fuck…" you muttered, trying to pull your hands free or get the knots undone before you heard a chair squeak and you froze.

"Don't worry about it. Can't get 'em off. Stop trying."

You turned your head quickly to Miles' chair, the back turned to you as a familiar deep and stoic voice spoke.

"Won't know if I don't try." You quipped back, trying to make whatever light of the situation you could, at least try to get you and Miles out alive.

And you could swear, you heard almost a chuckle come from behind that chair, quickly ended by the one sitting in it.

"...Why are you here?" He asked, quickly getting to the point as you scoffed.

"You're the one holding us here? We just wanna get home." You put it bluntly, going back to working on your toes as he wasn't looking.

"No." You could hear him say, the chair turning around as you worked faster before he saw.

"I mean, why are you here?" He asked, demanding as the chair finally turned.

You couldn't help but freeze as you saw his face.

It was Miles.

Your Miles.

But, not really. This Miles was visibly different and you could tell. This Miles was cold. This Miles just stared at you instead of smiling like yours did.

He was not your Miles.

Your Miles was knocked out somewhere, and needed you to get out of here.

"How are you here when you're not even supposed to be breathing?" This Miles brought you back from your shock, watching the confusion and realization sink in.

This was his world. The world where you guys disrupted the canon. The one with no Spider-Man.

So now you were forced to look at his suit, a suit similar to one Uncle Aaron wore when he was dubbed the Prowler.

"I'm not…we're not supposed to be here." You muttered, looking at everything and how similar it was to your Miles' room, down to every last picture of both of you in every same place.

"But you are." Miles bluntly reiterated, staring at you, his eyes going over and over your face like he was trying to find any similarities and any differences, he found all of one.

"You're the Prowler…? You can't be- you can't be the Prowler." You denied, stumbling over your words out of shock and shaking your head.

"Wanna know how I became the Prowler?" Miles somehow was amused by your shock and confusion, standing up to walk to you.

You couldn't find it in yourself to back away as he leaned down to you on the bed, his face close to yours as he stared into you.

"Because my dad died. And you died. Know what it's like to watch your girlfriend crushed to death with your dad on TV?" Miles muttered, his gaze never leaving you.

"And finding your body under all that?" Miles kept going, watching every reaction you did, your eyes darting around as you took in the new information.

"Now you're back…" Miles muttered, a small smirk can't help but to make its way onto his lips as he kept thinking of all the possibilities, the second chance he had now in his grip.

"Looking just as pretty as the day you left." Miles complimented, his smirk only growing as he used his fingers to pull your chin up to look at him.

"You think I'm gonna let that go?" Miles chuckled, amused at how you wanted to just leave, because he wasn't gonna let you.

"Miles. I'm…I'm not your (Name). I'm sure she loved you- but I'm not her." You tried to explain, shaking your head.

"But you are in some multiverse way. Right?" Miles laid the sarcasm on, his smirk slowly leaving as he heard how much you denied.

"Please. Just let us go home. I'm sure I loved you as much as you did me here, but you're not my Miles and I'm not your (Name)." You shook your head, a plea to understand.

"So please, let us go home." You begged one more last time as Miles just now stared at you, face blank the more you went on about leaving him.

Again.

"...How come he gets to have you and everything while I'm stuck here with what could've been avoided?" Miles scoffed, his hand making its way onto your cheek, feeling your skin he hadn't felt in so long.

"It doesn't work like that." Miles muttered, staring into your eyes, his hand lingering before he pulled away, turning his back to you and to the door.

"Miles! Please, just let us go! I- we don't belong here!" You yelled after him, desperate for him to understand as he activated his mask.

"You did once before. You'll do it again...But he won't."

Miles out on his glove, his mask over his face as your pleas fell onto deaf ears as he walked away.

He wasn't losing his second chance.

Not to that Miles, not to anyone.

You weren't leaving him again.

Just a Little Bit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (enemies to lovers)

Prompt: After a particular mission brings forward the issues between yours and Bucky’s relationship, it’s decided that a bonding exercise is the best way to close the rift. There’s only two rules: no murdering each other, and you can’t say “no.” (based on this request)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (fingering, oral m and f receiving, unprotected sex, teasing, spanking, dirty talk, cumplay, slight dub-con elements), some fluff, a tiny bit of angst, mentions of violence, mentions of injuries

A/n: Thank you so much to the lovely anon who requested this! I’m a little rusty with writing smut so I hope it isn’t horrible. I also changed the ask up just a little bit! I hope you all enjoy, and as always, my inbox, messages, requests, and taglists are open!

It felt like you were being sent to the Principal’s office.

And that was the first thing you voiced as you stepped into the small meeting room, earning a groan from all three men.

Keep reading

“I’m not telling you to make the world better I’m just telling you to live in it. Not just to endure it, not just to suffer it, not just to pass through it, but to live in it. To look at it. To take chances. To make your own work and take pride in it."

Joan Didion

Got me giggling and kicking my feet

Pictures from @ellellebe (@vrtuellereality) / Posted by @deviantpiper on Twitter

"I'm Not Sure At All This Is Safe, But I Want To Try It Anyway."

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: KNIFE PLAY, masturbation, cockwarming, degradation, praise, pet names, no actual harm but there are some threats

Summary: You and Bucky try knife play for the first time

A/N: This was just a fun little piece I wrote on a plane a while ago! It was based on a fantastic prompt from a cutie so it started out as a piece with original characters, please excuse any corrections that I missed! Some feedback was taken on board after I wrote it originally (thank you for that! 💗)

PLEASE DON'T READ THIS IF KNIFE PLAY MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE

Minors, do not interact

“I’m not sure at all this is safe, but I want to try it anyway.”  Bucky had the gentle curl of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips running his thumb down the length of the dark handle with more than a little trepidation.

“Of course it’s safe.  It’s not like it’s too sharp.  There’s really very little risk involved if everything goes smoothly.”  You were significantly more confident than he was, at least.  It had been your idea after all.  It had taken him a little while to warm up to the suggestion, as was to be expected but he had to admit, curiosity had blossomed in him faster than he had anticipated.

“And what do you want me to do with it?” He questioned, now running his thumb along the length of the blade, the sharp edge biting into the pad of his thumb, making the instrument almost feel heavier in his hands.  It was only a couple of inches long but the gravity of what you both wanted to use it for made him all the more aware of its weight.

“Just trail it over me a little.  You’ll get a feel for it once you try it.”  Your excitement was infectious, your eyes full of mischief as you relieved him of the weight of the knife in his hands.  You weren't scared of it; in truth, Bucky thought you looked rather at ease as you gripped the pommel in one small fist, using your other hand to pull one of the straps of your bra away from your skin, sliding the metal under the fabric.

He could only watch as you dragged the knife against the thin strap and within a few seconds, the fabric gave way, the snapping elastic providing a satisfying recoil.

“Do the other side?”  Good.  A starting point.  Something to ease him into it.  The pommel was back in his hand and from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, he didn’t have long to contemplate what he was doing before you had slotted yourself back on top of him.

He mirrored your earlier actions, tugging the underwear away from your skin and sliding the flat edge of the knife underneath, just past the end of your clavicle.  The way the delicate black fabric sliced was mesmerising, coming apart under his fingertips, or rather, the unrelenting edge of the blade.

“You’re getting it.”  You hummed contently, reaching behind yourself to unhook the clasps with one hand, letting the ruined garment fall to the floor in a heap.  “Don’t over-think it.  Do what feels right but if you want to stop, you only have to tell me.”

He had to admit, there was a thrill to this that he hadn’t anticipated.  Holding the knife came with a heavy sense of control, a feeling of power and dominance that he didn’t often fall into naturally but you were now trusting him with and he didn’t want to fuck it up.

“Don’t be scared of it.  I’m not.”  It was right about then that he first recognised your arousal and felt a little silly for not having noticed already.  As you repositioned herself in his lap, you took hold of his wrists, guiding his free hand down to the apex of your thighs, letting his fingers wonder past the lace panties and delighting in how he quickly got the hint and pushed them aside.  You were dripping wet.  Even the insides of your thighs were soaked.  Clearly you were more into this than you had wanted to admit when the pair of you had first discussed it and he was now finding your arousal hard to ignore.

“You’re getting off on this?  You know how fucked up that is?”  He teased, lowering his voice and letting himself slip into the role.  His fingers trailed through your delicate folds, accumulating your natural slick before they tapped repeatedly over your clit.  He brought the blade to your skin, pressing the sharpened edge flush with your body, just under the swell of your breast in a way that he imagined ran perpendicular with your spine.

“Careful now, don’t squirm around.  You don’t want my hand to slip.”  His fingers continued their tapping motion, a small amount of give allowed between the metal and your skin as you writhed from the stimulation.

“This is perfect.  Keep going.”  Your voice was so soft, he almost missed it.  You were the very sound of breathy lust, of someone so delighted in the reality of a fantasy you had kept secret for entirely too long.

He couldn’t quite place whether it was your interest in this or the sheer power trip that was encouraging his dick to quickly stiffen between your bodies.  He surmised it must have been a combination of factors.

“I can’t believe you soaked through your panties, just from letting me trail a knife over this pretty little body.”  His tone had more bite than the edge of the knife did, for now at least.  “Do you know how filthy you have to be to want this?  Getting yourself all wet and flustered for me, just because you know I could hurt you.”

The soft moan that left your lips was everything he had hoped for.  He could see you were needy and getting more desperate by the minute, the thin line between pain and pleasure getting so blurred in your head while being denied too much of both sensations.

“Take me inside you.  I want you to keep me warm.  Try not to squirm though, and don’t even think about fucking yourself on me.”  It didn’t matter that he was rarely so demanding in the bedroom.  Tonight, he was in total control and exercising it beautifully.

You did as he asked, shifting your panties to the side once more before arranging you both so that you could slide down on his length, just as he had asked.  Bucky marvelled at the fact he slid inside you so easily, the blade removed from your skin for just a second for the sake of safety.  “Good girl, sweetheart.”  He smirked, watching your eyes roll back as you bottomed out, taking every last inch of him and claiming them all as your own.

“It’s hard to sit still.”  Your voice came out whiney, need getting the better of you, your hips rolling minutely but more than enough to get his attention.

“What did I fucking tell you?”  He hissed, his breath hot against your neck as he reached around you, trailing the blade ever so gently down your spine from midway between your shoulder blades.  “Sit still.  Don’t move.  Be very fucking careful.”  The cool metal left goosebumps in its wake and encouraged a shiver that you just weren't brave enough to allow your body to succumb to.

“Fuck, this isn’t fair.”  You were beyond desperate.  He could feel the way your body pulsed, throbbing with need around the length so beautifully seated inside you.  He didn’t deny you often and he could tell you were struggling to come to terms with it, even if it was exactly what you had asked him to do.

“Fine.  If you want to fuck yourself stupid on me, be my guest.  We both know it won’t take much.  You’re half way there already.  But if you get hurt, it’s on you.  I’ll hold the knife where I want and if you get too close, you’d better hope you can stop yourself in time.”  The calm efficiency with which he spoke was only mirrored in the way he trialed the very tip of the knife up the inside of your bare thigh, letting the metal bite into the soft flesh a little.  It never so much as pricked the skin, it was only ever enough to keep you alert and God, you needed it.

“Please, please just let me cum.”  You sobbed, giving him the softest, sweetest eyes you could muster, only to be scoffed at in return.

“Make yourself cum.  There’s nothing stopping you.  If you’re so slutty that you can’t wait, you can get yourself off.  I just won’t be awfully kind to you.”  In truth, you loved getting him like this.  Testing his limits, letting him negotiate, all the while knowing that you would get what you wanted regardless.

He watched with feigned indifference as your fingers found their way between your bodies, under your panties to rub at your own clit.

“Stupid slut.  Let me help.”  He chuckled, running the blade under the left strap, then the right, letting the frayed lace come apart under his touch.

With the panties left in tatters, your fingers only moved faster, tiny little whimpers and sobs of pleasure falling from your parted lips.  You were a vision of pleasure in those few seconds.  A pleasure that was unperturbed by the blade trailing up your tummy, up between your breasts and back down.  If anything, your pleasure was only intensified by it.  

“B-Bucky…”. You gasped and under any other circumstances, he knew you would have been horrified by how pathetic your voice sounded.

You were close.  He could feel your body tensing and tightening, fluttering like you were about to lose all control.

“Be careful.  Don’t forget about the knife.” He reminded, watching how it only made you that little bit more frantic.  He wouldn’t let it hurt you, that wasn't an option.  As you hurtled over the edge into ecstasy, he pressed it to your skin, letting you roll you hips as you sobbed out your release into the crook of his neck.  This was bliss.  Taking what you needed on your own terms while Bucky was still very much in control.  Keeping your agency while surrendering your body to his care.

“Good girl.  That’s it, I know.  I know that feels good.”  Bucky cooed softly, letting you steal your pleasure from his body for as long as possible, drawing it out to the very end. 

“Fuck me.”  You demanded, not missing a beat after your own orgasm had subsided.  “Put the knife to my throat and fuck me.”

Nanami is such a gift giver

"The roses that came at lunch were beautiful," you said, fingers tracing the back of his hand under the warm water.

Nanami’s lips curved into a rare smile against the back of your head, "I wanted you to know I was thinking of you between meetings. That even when I'm buried in paperwork, missions, and everything else- part of me is still with you."

It had become something of a legend among your friends- the way Nanami Kento never stopped courting you. Never taking your presence for granted. The flowers that appeared mysteriously on your pillow some mornings- the ones he’d cut from the garden before work or purchased the night before. The handwritten notes tucked into places he knew you’d rummage through throughout the day.

"Some people say romance dies after the honeymoon phase…" you said while leaning back into his chest, watching as the candlelight danced across his knuckles, "That once you've 'caught' someone, you stop trying."

Nanami’s arms tightened around you, "Those people misunderstand the nature of love..." His voice was matter of fact, as if stating an obvious truth, his free hand coming up to gently move your damp hair away from your neck, "Love isn't a trophy to be won and displayed. It's a garden that requires daily tending."

A shiver ran through you as his breath ghosted over the shell of your ear. His lips trailed down the column of your neck, pressing light, almost ticklish, kisses along the sensitive flesh. Your hand found the side of his neck and you tilted your head further to the side in an unconscious invitation.

He nipped playfully at the skin where your shoulder and neck met and then soothed the spot with his tongue, "And you just so happen to be my favorite flower... You don't need a trophy case, just a loving gardener..."

His hand drifted to the edge of the tub, reaching across you, retrieving something from the edge- a small velvet box that hadn't been there when you'd entered the bathroom.

"Which is why," he continued, opening it to reveal a delicate silver bracelet adorned with black opal, its dark surface shimmering with a kaleidoscope of firey blues, greens, reds, and even purples, "I never intend to stop reminding you why you chose me. Every day. For as long as you'll have me."