✦Bucky Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Read on aO3!✦
✦summary: you and Bucky hate each other, so it's not unusual for him to act cold around you. but this is differant. this is... feral. and you're starting to wonder what's wrong✦
✦warnings/tags: bucky barnes x female!reader, enemies to lovers, ragebating Bucky Barnes, emotional angst, everyone's bad at feelings, fluff, sex pollen, sex pollen level smut, a little plot for the porn (dry humping, manhandling, bucky's feral, emotional sex, dry orgasm, truly foul dirty talk, hyperspermia, pussy eating like crazy, fingering, dumbification, dirty talk, sensitive reader, finger sucking, bucky gets nasty, body worship, overstimulation, sex pollen stamnia, mean!bucky, oral f!recieving, begging, praise kink, monster dick bucky, he fucks like a machine, breeding kink), no use of y/n, no descrption of reader✦
✦wc: 11.1k✦
✦Author's Note: i'm so normal about sex pollen✦
It doesn’t bother you. If you tell yourself enough, you’re really going to believe that it doesn’t bother you.
But he’s everywhere.
There isn’t a corner of the damn building without Bucky Barnes. You go to the kitchen and he’s there making a sandwich, watching you move around the counter like he thinks you’re going to bite him. In the gym he’s at the weights and the punching bags, and you try to ignore him but he grunts and moans and you think he’s doing it on purpose. the living area he takes over the TV and watches whatever he wants to catch up with the times. No matter how politely you ask him to switch to something else, he always tells you to just wait. Then you try, but he’s spread out on the couch until your knees have to bump, and your face gets all hot, and you have to stomp away before you start acting on all your stupid thoughts.
Because it’s not just Bucky’s eternal presence and stubbornness and smirking that burrows under your skin. It’s that you like it.
That when you’re next to him on the couch, all you can think about is that place where your body’s connect. He’s warm. Tall and warm. Your skin tingles at the contact point, and whenever he shifts it’s like you’re being shot up with a drug.
“You’re squirmy.” He grumbles, glaring at you in the dark. “No one ever teach you to sit still?”
You stick your tongue out. “No one ever teach you to mind your own business?”
“Hard to mind my business when you’re movin’ all the cushions, doll-“
“Then go sit somewhere else, robot man.”
Bucky’s jaw twitches. “I’m not a robot.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m not-“
“You act like one.” You snap, and Bucky closes his eyes. Like he’s fucking praying.
“I was here first.” He mutters. You don’t balk.
“Congratulations.”
You hold his glare, and Bucky lets out a heavy breath through his nose. He narrows his eyes, tongue flicking over his lips. His full lips. Pretty and chapped, but in the perfect, soft way-
Get a fucking grip.
“There’s a chair over there.” You point across the room, sinking back into the cushions. “Go sit in it, if I’m so squirmy.”
Bucky scowls, and opens his mouth, but whatever jab he’s got for you, you don’t want to hear it. You reach over and unpause the movie—probably another one of Sam’s this is what you gotta catch up on, Barnes suggestions, because there’s no way Bucky picked out the Goonies himself—and fix your glower on the TV screen. You hate this movie. You’re going to watch it all the way through, just to show Bucky that he doesn’t bother you.
You spread your own legs wide, too. If men are allowed to do it, so are you. Bucky grunts as your knee pushes over his thigh, and you smirk at the TV.
It has nothing to do with the thick muscle you can feel under his sweatpants, that you keep your legs like that for the rest of the night. Bucky’s fingers flex a few times, and brush over the inner curve of your knee and the top of your thigh, like he’s thinking about just shoving you away. At one point, you hear him grunt, and look over with mockingly raised brows.
“Everything okay?” You almost simper, and he grunts and nods.
That’s all you get. Bucky fixes his anger on the movie, you win this round, and you get to be close to him without thinking about it.
You’ll think about it later. In the comfort of your own bedroom, you’ll think about it and think about it and think about it all night. You’ll think about it until your wrist hurts. But Bucky doesn’t get to know that.
As far as he needs to be concerned, you never spare him a second thought. It’s all he spares you. And you’re not going to be the pathetic girl who falls for someone who only thinks of her as a buzzing gnat around his head. Who worships the ground of a man who would step on her like a flower into concrete, not because he was seeking to hurt, but just because he didn’t notice you were there at all.
Although Bucky does seem to notice where you are.
The farmer does like to keep track of pests in his crops.
“You skipped the mission briefing.” Bucky grunts in the morning, glaring at you over a cup of coffee.
Something soft in you swells like a prodded bruise. He noticed where you were.
You ignore it in favor of flipping him off.
“I was busy.”
“Too busy for your job?”
“It’s not my job-“
“Your name was on the roster.” Bucky slams the folder down on the table, and your lips twitch.
“Have you been carrying that around all day?”
“That doesn’t matter-“
“Yes, it really does-“
Bucky hisses your name. There’s a fury under his tone, that makes your mouth snap shut. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.
“You need to be there, Steve was talkin’ about safety shit, and if you don’t know it you could get killed-“
“I know how mission briefing work, I’ve been here longer than you have-“
“Really? ‘Cause you don’t act like it-“
“I don’t act like it?” You snort. “Last I checked I’m ranked higher than you, Sargent.” You raise your chin, letting your lips curl. “Which is why I’m allowed to defer missions, and you’re not.”
“I’m skipping.” You shrug, grabbing an apple from the counter. “And if I’m skipping, I don’t need to be at the briefing. But thanks for checking on me, dad.”
Bucky’s eyes narrow. You expect him to snap something about experience and you not being responsible enough or needing to care more.
But instead his fists curl and uncurl at his side. His nostrils flare. He grabs the counter, his scowl burning right through you. You take a large bite of your apple, and his gaze darts down. Juice drips down your chin, and you wipe it off with light fingers. That only seems to make him angrier.
“Why’re you skipping.”
You shrug. You should say none of your business. But part of you is childish. A very big, loud part that wants him to react to something you know he isn’t actually going to care about.
“I have a date.”
“A what.” It’s not a full reaction. He’s mostly staring at you like he didn’t understand the word. Maybe they called it something different in the 40s.
“A date?” You roll your eyes, a little meaner than you mean to be. He always bring that out in you, though.
Bucky always brings everything out in you. It’s incredibly annoying.
“You know.” You push mockingly. “Where you go out with someone. And flirt like people, instead of robots.”
“Robots flirt.” Bucky grunts, and you snort.
“Yeah, but they don’t have sex-“
The counter cracks. It’s loud, echoing through the kitchen. You start and twitch, and Bucky blinks at his metal hand, like he’s just as surprised as you are. He looks back to you, shakes his head, and takes a large step back.
“What’s-“
“Steve’s callin’ me.” He mutters, and you blink.
“No, he’s not-“
“Have fun.” Bucky ignores you. His words sound pushed through his teeth. “On your human date.”
Then he’s gone.
And you’re left in the kitchen with your apple and a cracked counter, staring at where he’d vanished through the door. You don’t care about the date.
You just need to know what the fuck that was.
There’s a part of you that feels bad, for the man Natasha set you up with. She’d picked him out specifically because he had a vague resemblance to Bucky—because you’ve never told her your secret, but you didn’t need to, she’s Natasha—but it wasn’t enough.
He didn’t have the underlying accent, or the gleam in his eyes. You made a sharper edged joke, and he just laughed. He didn’t spar. He didn’t push your buttons in a way that made you light up. He just smiled at you all night—wrong smile, too—and then didn’t pay. Bucky would’ve paid.
You have no evidence of that. It’s just a feeling, that comes from how he still opens doors for you, even when you’re at each other’s throats. All polite and handsome and insufferable. You hate him.
And there’s not a single point during the night, where you’re not thinking about him.
“We should do this again.” The Date—you’ve forgotten his name, and it’s certainly not a good time to ask—says at the end of the night.
You’re shivering. Bucky would’ve offered you his jacket. He did once, on a mission in the Andes. You got all cold and he rolled his eyes and muttered that he told you to bring another layer, but still gave you his jacket all the same. This man is just grinning at you after not calling you a cab and saying he wanted to stand outside in the misty, chilly night. He said he wanted fresh air, and now your freezing, and he thinks he’s getting a second date.
At the very least, you feel a little less guilty about only thinking of Bucky and the mission the whole time. He deserved it.
“Sure.” You smile, because even with superstrength, it’s easier to tell a man yes and then vanish than it is to deny them to their face. “Have a good night.”
He tries to hug you. Your phone buzzes, and you duck away to check it.
The mission is over.
Two days early.
Your jaw tightens.
Most people would think that a job being done early is a good thing. That it means the team was just so focused and coordinated that they sped through every single step, and ended in a total victory. But you’ve been on this job too long. Early mission conclusions only ever happen for one reason.
Something went wrong, and they have to come back.
You rush back to the compound with barely a goodnight to the Date. It’s mostly because you forget, in the blur of worry. You’d skimmed the mission files before they left, just to make sure it wasn’t anything too dangerous. Bucky had been mad about you not going with them. Maybe he’d thought they’d need the hands, but it had just looked like a retrieval mission. Old Hydra facility with some data Tony wanted. Nothing too hard.
But they’re back early.
And if someone’s hurt, you could’ve stopped it. You could’ve been there, instead of on that stupid fucking date. Which also means that Bucky was right, and that’s incredibly annoying. He’s going to weild it over your head, and the mocking is going to turn you on more, and you’ll have earned it which isn’t going to help anything at all.
You get back to the compound, and it’s not in lockdown. There aren’t med staff flooding the grounds or emergency sirens blaring. You go right to the hanger, and find that it’s already been cleared out. The jet isn’t being quarantined.
Maybe they really did just… Finish early.
You’re heading back to your room when you slam right into them.
Steve and Bucky, standing in the middle of the hall, arguing in hushed voices.
“You need to go, Buck-“
“I’m fine-“
“No, you’re not. You can lie to the docs, don’t lie to me-“
“I ain’t lyin’, I’m fine-“
Your too lost in your own head, barely even hearing what they’re saying. You barrel straight into Bucky’s back.
He goes rigid. You stumble a little, and he grabs your upper arm.
His hand is hot.
Not sexy hot—although it’s also that—but literally, physically hot. Almost searing, against your shivering skin. You look up at him, and swallow.
He’s flushed. There’s sweat clinging to his brow, and an exhausted shadow over his features. His eyes are so blown out they’re almost fully black. You blink at him, and his mouth falls open in a ragged pant.
“Hi.” You whisper.
His throat bobs. “You’re back.”
“I- I got the alert.” You glance over to Steve, who’s gone oddly pale. “Did the mission go okay? It was fine that I wasn’t there, right-“
“Yep!” Steve almost shouts, and you blink. “I mean- We were all good. Wish you were there, we all missed you, but- We were fine. Right, Buck?” Steve grabs Bucky’s shoulder. “We were all good.”
Bucky doesn’t look away from you for a single second. He grunts, and his grip tightens on your arm.
“Let go.” Steve mutters, and Bucky shoots him a glare.
He releases you like you burned him, then wipes his hand on his pants. You scowl. He was the one touching you.
“I was gonna.” He grumbles, and Steve sighs.
“I know, but-“ You get a weary look. Like Steve doesn’t want you to hear their conversation. “I think- You know what I think-“
“Steve-“ Bucky cuts himself off with a groan, running a hand over his face.
He still hasn’t looked away from you. Or moved that far out of your proximity.
“I’m fine.” He says, low and under his breath. You’re rooted to the ground under his gaze, unsure what you could even think of to say. “It’s- I’m fine.”
Steve’s lips press in a thin line. Bucky takes a large, jerking step back. Like he’s dragging himself away.
“How was your date?” He grunts.
“Bucky-“
“I’m just askin’ a question.” He snaps, still not sparing Steve a look.
The attention is getting to be too much. Bucky is looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, and it’s making your body almost buzz in anticipation. You want to jump on him and feel those hot hands all over your body. His nostrils flare like he can smell your arousal. If he can, you might jump off a bridge.
You hope he’d catch you, then fuck you until your can’t even walk.
Get a fucking grip.
“Bad.” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. “He sucked.”
And that’s the kind of thing Bucky would usually mock you for. Skipping a mission just for a bad date.
But a low, rumbling growl falls from his chest. His tongue darts over his lips. He takes a half-step forward, and you lean in to the gravity of his stare.
“We have debriefing!” Steve shouts, grabbing the collar of Bucky’s suit. “Bye!”
Before you can even register it, Steve’s dragging Bucky down the hall. You swear you hear another feral noise, and a crash after they turn the corner.
Something had to have happened on the mission. You just have no fucking clue what.
Bucky’s only been acting stranger. You’d pretend it didn’t bother you, if you could get away from it for a single fucking second.
You walk through the compound, and he’s somehow more everywhere than he was before. Around every corner, in the library, on the grounds, even in the control room while you’re going through the mission files.
“What’re you doin’.” He grunts, and you sigh.
You’re not surprised he’s there. It’s the fifth time today that he’s snuck up on you.
“I’m going through the reports on the mission.” You drawl. “Don’t you have better things to do than follow me around?”
Bucky grunts. It seems to be a no. You roll your eyes and go back to poking through the system. It’s hard to pretend that you can’t feel his presence behind you. There’s heat almost rolling from his body, and thick, spicy and musky scent that’s filling the room. It’s making you a little dizzy. It’s all you can do, not to look back at him.
That would be dangerous. He probably still looks feverish and animalistic. You might moan.
You find the files for the mission, and try to open them. Big, read access denied, contact your handler for permission to these files flashes over your screen. Your mouth falls open, and you whip back to glare at Bucky before you can think about it.
Mistake. Just like you’d thought, big mistake.
He looks even worse and better than you thought. He’s wearing just a t-shirt and sweats, and they’re clinging to his sweaty body. His eyes are hooded and his lips are parted. His attention is so wholly fixed on you that it almost makes you fall out of your chair. You almost forget you’re annoyed with him. Every single nerve in your body is alight, and your fingers are itching to comb through his sweaty hair.
You somehow—just barely—fight it.
“Why can’t I access these files.”
Bucky leans over you, his nostrils flaring. If you reach up, you could trace the stubbled line of his jaw. It’s hard to maintain your glare.
“Barnes-“
“You weren’t on the mission.” He mutters. “Not your files to see.”
You scowl. “I can access the files of every other mission I was on-“
“Steve should change that.”
God, you wish he wasn’t so pretty. It would be easier to think about punching him.
“I know something happened out there.” You hiss, sitting up a little taller. “You can’t hide it from me. I’ll figure it out.”
Bucky chuckles. It’s a low, raspy sound that runs through your body, making you shiver.
“Sure, doll. Have fun with that.”
You shoot to your feet, and Bucky lurches back. Another one of those deep, rumbling growls rolls from his chest, and for a second you think he’s going to pounce on you.
And then you blink, and he’s gone. Leaving you with only that hazy smell, and desire rolling through your veins.
You wish that was the extent of it, but it’s barely the start. And it only gets worse.
Bucky doesn’t do his movie nights anymore, which means you get the TV all to yourself. You watch what you want, and try not to look at the spot next to you. Where your body feels like he’s supposed to be. You stretch out your legs, but they ache strangely without his touch. You get more restless without him. Around midnight, you shuffle to the kitchen, hoping one of those soothingherb thingys that Wanda says help with her nightmares will be there.
Instead, you find Bucky.
He’s drinking a glass of ice, with a little bit of water. He freezes when he sees you, and moves further behind the counter.
You sigh. You’re too tired to fight him.
“Can’t sleep?” You mumble.
He just nods.
You sigh, and walk over the cupboard.
“You want hot chocolate?”
A grunt. Better than silence. You make two mugs, one for you, one for Bucky.
And maybe it’s just that you’re really starting to worry, but you don’t bother pretending to hate him. Your fingers brush when you pass him his mug, and his body seizes like you shocked him, but you just offer a tiny smile.
His mouth falls open. He stares at you like he’s spent years only looking at the muddier reflection of stars in the water, and has finally thought just to tilt his head up. You let out a small, shaking breath. He’s still burning up. You can feel it from your place a foot away. But you don’t dare to push it.
Not when he’s looking at you like this. The way you’d always, secretly and shamefully, dreamed he would.
“I’m watching Star Wars.” You mumble. “You wanna…”
You trail off, and Bucky’s throat bobs.
He nods again. A new tendril of worry blooms, overlapping with the growing tangle of them in your gut. He might not be able to speak.
But he follows you to the living area, and takes his place on the couch. His knee pushes against yours. He’s breathing awfully shallow, but you’re a selfish coward that wants him close, so you don’t mention it.
You barely pay attention to the movie. All you can focus on is Bucky at your side. How he doesn’t even seem to be sparing the TV a glance. He’s not really touching you, save for that place where your thighs are always pushed together, but every time you shift he grabs your knee. You blink at him, and his throat just bobs. He still hasn’t said a word. You’re afraid that when he does, it will break this fragile illusion.
That he wants to be here.
Near you.
He passes out near the end of the movie. His head falls against your shoulder and his body goes limp, almost a blanket over yours. You don’t move, just staring at a lit up, black screen. He looks more peaceful than you’ve ever seen. His fever isn’t breaking, but it does seem to be easing. You run your fingers through his hair, and he makes a low sound like a purr.
Then he takes a deep inhale, right against the crook of your neck, and a different noise leaves him.
It’s almost a moan.
You swallow. Suddenly you need to move. You don’t know what’s going on with him, but this can’t be what he actually wants. To be asleep almost in your arms, purring and moaning. That’s not a part of him you get to have.
But when you try to move, his grip around you tightens.
You feel almost sick.
It takes almost an hour, to roll off the couch without him pulling you back. When you’re free, you still cover him in a blanket and press a hand to his brow. Just to check. You can’t really help it.
His fever is building again.
You wish he would just tell you what was wrong. Even if he thinks you hate him, he can’t think you wouldn’t care enough to help.
When you start to walk away, he moans again. You could swear it sounded a little like your name.
You force yourself to go to bed. You’re not sure if you want him to remember in the morning.
If anything, you just pray he gets better. It’s hard to hide your undying care for him, when he’s in pain. Impossible to ignore how much it bothers you, that he’s hurting. ‘
But it is Bucky.
And he’s never going to make anything that easy.
You walk out of your room in the morning, and he’s right there. Lingering in the hallway, staring at you with those blown-out eyes, working his jaw like he’s trying to bite his own tongue off.
“Hi.” You say lamely.
He stumbles back like you punched him. “You- You’re-“
“Bucky, are you-“
“’M fine.” He says it mostly to himself again. There’s sweat gathering on his brow and bags under his eyes.
You’re not going to tell him, but you’re getting worried. This is the third morning in a row you’ve found him here. The first night you asked if he’d slept there, and he’d scowled and stomped away.
But from the look of him, you don’t think he’s been sleeping at all.
“Do you need something?” You ask. You sound soft, but you can’t help it. The worse he looks, the more your heart tightens. “I can call Steve-“
“Don’t get Steve.” He steps back. The same jerked movement from the first night. It’s the only way he’s been moving around you, lately. “I’m fine.”
You give him a doubtful look. His tongue flicks over his lips. You take a step forward, and he takes another step back. Like you’ve got a polarity field around you. Like he can’t even stand to breathe the same air.
And yet he’s here. Outside your door, and breathing through his mouth like an animal.
“Bucky-“
“Don’t.” He shakes his head, stumbling another step back. “Just- Don’t.”
You swallow, and don’t give chase when he walks away. Jogs away. He yanks himself away, then runs like he thinks you’re going to catch him and drag him back. You won’t.
But you do go right to Steve.
“What happened on the mission.”
Steve flinches, gagging on his sandwich. You’re glaring down at him with your hands on your hips, and you think he knows his little charming smile isn’t going to work on you here. That doesn’t seem to stop him from trying anyway.
“Hey, um- Do you want a cookie-“
“Steven.” You hiss, and he swallows. “What happened.”
Steve winces, avoiding your gaze. “I’m not supposed to tell you.”’
“What do you mean you’re not supposed to tell me-“
“I mean I- I can.” He mutters. “But then Bucky will kill me. And I don’t want Bucky to kill me.”
You scowl. “Tough shit, because guess who’s going to kill you if you don’t tell me?”
Steve sighs. “Is it you?”
“Yep.”
He stares at his sandwich, like it’s somehow going to get him out of this situation. You wait for him to realize it won’t. You have plenty of time.
“I’m really not supposed to tell you-“
“I really don’t care.”
“Well- You will.” Steve looks up with a sad little puppy eyes.
You don’t have the same reservations about punching him in the face, that you have with Bucky. He’s basically asking for it right now.
“Steven, I swear to fucking God-“
“I can’t tell you.” He cuts you off with a shake of his head, and you scoff.
“No, you just won’t tell me-“
“That’s not- I can’t, okay? Please stop asking me to-“
“Why, because Bucky doesn’t want you to?” You leer. “Because last I checked, you’re the Captain. And if Bucky is your friend, you should be telling his teammates he’s in danger so they can help-“
“That’s the problem!” Steve shouts, and you blink. “You- Look, you’re going to want to help, and I can’t let you.”
“You can’t let me help?” You echo, and Steve winces.
“I know how it sounds-“
“Do you? Because what I’m fucking hearing that your best friend is in danger, and you won’t let me fucking help-“
“Why do you even want to help?” Steve fixes you with a pointed look. “All you ever do is complain about Bucky and how he’s annoying you. I would’ve thought you didn’t care.”
You narrow your eyes, and Steve raises his brows. You know what he’s doing. Smug fucking asshole.
“That won’t work on me.” You grunt, and he shrugs.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Steve-“
“But,” he says causally. “If I did, I’d say that’s why I can’t tell you. And you know that.”
You hate it when he speaks in riddles. Like you’re just supposed to read between the lines when your brain is fogged with worry about Bucky.
“I- I don’t-“ You let out a slow breath, looking down to your shoes. Heat is flooding your cheeks. It’s annoying. “It’s not- I’m just- Please.”
Your voice cracks suddenly. You’ve been losing more sleep over this than you’re ever going to tell anyone. You almost feel ill with it—like the worry is an infection, knotting up your stomach and making your heart pick up—but that might just literal exhaustion. Something happened. No one will tell you what. It’s making you feel useless and hopeless and torn up to tiny, useless shreds.
“Bucky.” You say slowly. “Is- He’s not okay. I know he’s not okay.” You force yourself to meet Steve’s gaze. “Just- Lie to me and say he’s fine, and fix it, or tell me and let me help. But I- I can’t just-“
You don’t even know how to finish the sentence. There’s a burning feeling behind your eyes and a lump in your throat. You’re so worried. Worried this is something that’s going to kill him, and you’re going to lose him forever.
And there’s pity, in Steve’s gaze. It’s enough to make him break, his voice softening completely.
“Alright.” He murmurs. “But- You can’t tell him I told you.”
You nod quickly. “I’ll say I just got into the files, or- Something- Please.”
Steve sighs. “Okay. Okay.” He shakes his head. “It was on the mission. Bucky was distracted the whole time, and when we got jumped he wasn’t being controlled with his punches. He swag to hard on an Hydra agent. Knocked them back into some vials, and- Well they burst. All over both of them. We put the agent in containment, but he was displaying worse symptoms. Bucky- I think it’s the serum, or just… Bucky. But he’s been controlling it better.” Steve grimaces. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not still knocked up with stuff.”
You nod slowly. That’s not that bad.
But Steve didn’t want you to know for a reason.
“What are the symptoms?”
Steve won’t meet your gaze. “Fever. Nausea. Hormone flares. Um- Increased… libido.”
Your eyes widen, your mouth falling open. “What.”
“Hydra makes some weird stuff. Tony thinks this was, um- A breeding drug. We don’t know why they were developing it, but- There’s no other name.” Steve’s nose wrinkles. “The agent- His cell is disgusting.”
“But- Bucky-“
“I told you, he says he’s got it under control.” Steve shrugs, but doesn’t really sound like he’s convinced himself. “The agent has been, ah… begging for anyone. Bucky doesn’t have the same liberty with what will help. He says it’s going to pass, and he’ll be fine.”
“And will it?” You breathe. “Pass?”
Steve shrugs. “It did for the agent.”
“Before or after the mating?”
Steve’s silence is an answer. You swear under your breath.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me this, Steve? We- We need to get him to someone, this could fucking kill him-“
“I know that!” Steve snaps. “I know that just as well as you do! As he does! But- Jesus.” He shakes his head. “He won’t take anyone. He’ll only- Well- You know.”
“I know? I don’t fucking know, none of you have been telling me shit-“
Steve says your name plainly. You blink.
“What-“
“Nothing. Just- Why do you think he’s been lingering around you?”
You stare at him. He raises his brows, and you swallow.
“Steve-“
“I didn’t say anything-“
“Yes, you did-“
“Nope.”
You press your lips in a tight line. He can’t mean what you think he means. That would be to easy. Too good. “Bucky- He doesn’t- That’s not how he feels about me.”
Please don’t say it is. It’s not fair if you’re lying.
“Funny.” Steve shrugs. “He says the same thing about you.”
This is a bad idea.
Bucky hasn’t left his room in a day. You’d spent all of last night replaying your conversation with Steve, trying to pick it apart for a single reason he didn’t mean what you thought he did. What you hoped he did. What you’d always hoped for, only in the dead of night where no one would ever find out.
But it didn’t matter how you turned or picked at Steve’s words. There was only one conclusion. The beautiful, horrible one that you can’t even fully wrap your head around. It would mean you spent years hating him for no reason. Year thinking about kissing his stupid face, when you could’ve been actually kissing him. If Steve’s right, you’re going to kill Bucky.
After you fix this for him.
If Steve means what you think, you can fix this for him. He just has to let you.
Which is why this is a horrible idea. If Bucky turns you down, you’re going to have to quit your job and change your name and move to Indonesia.
But if he doesn’t turn you down…
You steel yourself and knock on Bucky’s door. It’s worth the risk, just for him. Always just for him.
“Fuck off, Stevie-“
“I’m not Steve!” You call, and for a second there’s no response.
Then there’s a muffled banging, and you almost fall forward when Bucky yanks the door open.
He looks even worse than before. And better. And hotter, and oh God, your knees are already weak.
His shirt is gone, and his broad, muscled chest is shining with sweat. His hair flops over his eyes, mussed up and soft looking. He’s breathing through his nose, even as his swollen mouth hangs open. His metal fist is curled against the door, making the wood crack under his fingers. Standing through his sweatpants is the long, proud outline of his cock.
You swallow, your mouth watering. Bucky says your name, and you can’t tell if it’s supposed to be a plea or a prayer.
“You shouldn’t be here-“
“Steve said you need me.”
You stare at each other. Bucky’s tongue flicks out, and you chew on your lower lip. This is it. If he turns you down, you’ll walk away and live. A new life, across the world. You’ve never been to Indonesia, but you hear they have good food and community, and you’re sure you’ll be able to fit right in over time, and if you don’t at least Bucky will never find you to make you relive this humiliation, because it’s been almost two full minutes and he hasn’t said anything, so you should probably pull out your phone and start researching Indonesian names-
“Steve shouldn’t have told you anything.” Bucky growls, and you swallow.
“I- I made him.”
He sighs. You could swear his dick twitches. “Of course you did.”
“I was worried about you-“
“You don’t have to be, doll. I’m-“
“If you say I’m fine, I’m going to fucking punch you.”
Bucky scowls. You scowl harder. You have a feeling neither of you are going to back down.
“You’re sick.” You say plainly, and Bucky lets out a sharp exhale through his nose.
“Maybe. But it’s not the kinda sick you can help with-“
“Steve says it’s the kind of sick only I can help with.”
He’s silent again. You risk a tiny step forward, and he takes one back, muttering your name. It’s a warning. A plea.
“Don’t do this.” He mutters, fists balled at his side. “Not outta pity, not for me-“
“It’s not pity.” You stop in his doorway, making your voice soft. “I want to help, Bucky. Let me help.”
He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “No, you- You just- You don’t feel like that for me-“
“You don’t feel like that for me.” You breathe, and Bucky’s body locks up.
“Who says?”
“You’re an ass to me-“
“You’re an ass to me.”
“I don’t mean to be.” You whisper. “I- I don’t- I’m not good at… You know.”
Bucky’s throat bobs. He still doesn’t move.
“Me neither.”
You nod. “But…”
“Yeah.” He swallows. “Yeah. I do.”
You take a deep breath. His whole room is filled with that musky, spicy smell. The heat is almost rolling off his body.
“Please ask me to help.” You don’t bother to hide the desperation in your voice. He needs to know that you mean it. “I- I want to, Bucky, I want you so bad-“
Bucky muffles your pleas, crashing forward and pressing his mouth over yours.
It’s not the soft, loving kiss of your fantasies. It’s rough and desperate, the kiss of a man finally letting his leash snap. He grabs your neck and scrunches his fingers in your hair, dragging a moan from the back of your throat. It turns into a hungry cry, when he pushes his tongue between your lips. Your knees wobble from the bruising force of it. You grab his shirt for balance, scrunching the fabric between your fingers.
Bucky grunts, pressing further over you. One arm drops to wrap around your waist, and the other slide up to cradle the back of your head. The touch his shockingly gentle, for the demanding way he’s almost eating your kisses. You’re standing nowhere near a wall, but he’s caged you all the same. There’s nothing to do but feel the way his cool, metal fingers dig into your hips, and the unrelenting heat of his mouth.
You kiss until your breathing is ragged. He tastes like mint and salt, and it’s a little addictive. Even after you’re light-headed and whimpering, Bucky sucks on your lower lip and takes just a little more. You whimper, gasping for air that he doesn’t seem to need. He tugs on your hair, forcing you to tip your neck back, and he plants open, hungry kisses over every place he can reach.
“You gotta be sure.” He murmurs against your skin. “Tell me you’re sure, doll, ‘cause- I don’t think I can go easy.”
And oh God, isn’t that lovey thought. Bucky not going easy. Combined with his tongue flicking over a pulse point, you almost fall over from the pure thought of it.
But he’s asking real permission. His hold on your hip is getting tighter, and his shoulders are squared and tense. He’s keeping himself from taking what he really wants, until you give him total permission.
You didn’t know you could want him more.
“I- Oh-“ Your eyes flutter, as he nips on sensitive skin under your jaw before kissing away the hurt. “I’m sure, Bucky, I- I don’t want you to go easy.”
For some reason, that only makes him more tense. He takes an uneven breath, pressing his brow against your head and almost pulling you off your feet as he hugs you tighter. You wait, slowly wrapping your arms around him and dragging your nails soothingly over the nape of his neck.
Bucky draws himself back, his expression unreadable as he scans over your face. You offer him a tiny, nervous smile, and he lets out a shaky laugh.
“You- You got no idea, do you?”
Your face falls to a pout. “I have a lot of ideas-“
“No, you don’t.” He drops his brow over yours. “You got no fuckin’ clue, what you do to me.”
And your brain stalls. It gets all gooey and soft, as you just blink up at him. You’re already on unsteady legs. You never thought he’d catch you if you fell, but with the way Bucky’s looking at you right now, you think he’d dive off a cliff to be at your side.
“Bucky…” You breathe, and he drops his forehead against yours. Your noses bump. His gaze darts between your lips and eyes, and you think you might be burning alive.
“You smell so good.” He mutters, before leaning down to press a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. “Taste better than I imagined.”
“You-“ You almost whimper, when he pulls away. “You imagined?”
He chuckles, kissing just your upper lip. You’re already putty under his hands, and you might turn to just a steam of desire if he doesn’t stop kissing you so softly.
“Didn’t you?”
You nod, and Bucky’s lips twitch.
“Bet I imagined more.”
And you doubt that, but Bucky’s kissing you again before you can tell him that you imagined so much it scared you sometimes. The way you were sure that you’d never be able to recover, from an addiction to a drug you’d never even taken.
You’re certainly never going to recover now. Kissing Bucky is even better than you’d let yourself dream about. His lips are just as soft as you thought. Even with the way he’s holding himself back, his touch is possessive. He traces your sides like he’s trying to memorize them, and kisses you the same way.
“Got no idea what I’m gonna do to, either.” He rasps against your lips. “If you let me, doll… You shouldn’t- But-“ He groans, pushing his nose into your cheek, kissing over the slope of your jaw. “Fuck, I want you to.”
You want him to. You want to feel those sloppy, devout kisses everywhere, to get that infernal tongue between your legs. His cock is almost bursting through his sweats, protruding into your thigh. He’d be heavy on your tongue, and split you better than the toys that you’ve used in his place before. The ache in your core throbs from just the idea, and you can feel your heart trying to burst all out of your throat with confession of desire and adoration. But you’re not sure if he’s going to believe them.
“Tell me.” You whisper. “Tell me what you’ve dreamed about doing to me.”
Bucky pulls back, and you worry you’ve stepped on an invisible landmine. That you’re going to be shoved out of the room, the door slammed in your face instead of behind you, locking you out of the room you’ve longer to be in since you met him. Bucky stares at you. You open your mouth to apologize and take it back, but he loves to move faster than your lustdrunk mind can understand.
You squeal as he walks you backward, but not out of the room. He kicks his door shut as you pass it. It slams, right as Bucky pins you between against the wall. He kisses you before you can protest or ask questions, and keeps going until you’re squirming against him and unsure if you should pull him closer or push him away. His kisses wander your cheeks, over your nose and hairline and back down to your ear.
“I wanted you just like this.” He chokes out, and your swallow. He sounds wrecked, and you’re not even kissing anymore. “Wanted you everywhere. Would see you in a meetin’ and think about bending you over the table. You’d get under me on the training mats and I’d wanna get in a headlock between your legs. Bet you taste so good.”
He shudders, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. His dick has shifted to push right near your core, and it’s almost too much pressure, while not being nearly enough.
“Would sit next to you on the plane and think about gettin’ on my knees.” He rasps, beard ticking against your skin. “Worshipping your pussy like it deserves. Makin’ you- Fuck- Call my name-“
Bucky moans, his hips jerking forward. A tiny moan escapes your lips, and Bucky almost whines and does it again. You don’t think he can help it.
“Wanted to stuff your pretty little lips with my cock.” He thrusts again, his whole weight almost collapses over your body. “You’d get all mouthy and I- I jerk off to the idea of puttin’ you over my knee or gettin’ you lying in my bed. I’d- I’d fuck you so nice, doll, I swear I’d be good, but- Fuuuck-“
He’s rutting between your thighs, and seems to forget the story he’s supposed to be telling you in favor of sucking on your neck. You whimper, pushing your hand between your bodies. Not to stop him—never to stop him—but to wrap your fingers around his cock through his sweats.
Bucky moans, his voice breaking with raw, starved relief. You try to pull him back to kiss him, but he just wraps closer around you. He’s almost shaking. You think he’s trying not to fuck your hand.
You can’t have that.
“It’s okay.” You drag your fingers over the line of his cock, and he whimpers against your neck. “I- I’ve thought about it too.”
Bucky slams forward, and you smile at the air.
“Wanted you to shove me down and fuck me stupid. Wanted to ride you until I passed out. I bought a dildo, baby, just to pretend it was you.”
You use your free hand to pet the back of his head, slowly sliding his sweats down to give yourself better access. Bucky’s thick and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don’t even come close to wrapping fully around, and whenever your nails graze his balls, he bucks forward with a strangled moan.
“Wasn’t as big.” You breathe, stroking his dick in long, tight motion. “You’re so big, Bucky, I don’t think it’s gonna fit.”
He grunts, his teeth grazing your neck. “Gonna- Fuck-“
You squeeze him at the base, and he doubles over. He’s almost fully collapsed against you. You want to feel him come apart.
“Gonna make it fit.” He hisses in your ear, and you hum.
“How?”
“Open you up.” He mutters, words slurred like he’s drunk. “Get you all over me, doll- Wanna watch you cum over and over and- God-“
His dick is twitching, and you giggle. He’s working himself up.
“You think this is funny?” He rasps.
You smile, swiping your thumb over the weeping slit of his dick. “A little. You wanna make me cum but you won’t even touch me.”
He makes an annoyed sound, and tries to push off of you. You tug his cock a little harder, and he falls back over with a moan. You giggle again.
“You- You’re a fuckin’ brat-“
“I’m helping you, Barnes.” You whisper in his ear.
He chuckles, and the sound rolls through your body. “Helpin’ me would be sitting on my face- Fuck-“
Bucky’s whole body shakes, when you squeeze him one last time, and his control slip. You pet him through his orgasm, unsure if you want him to notice how you press your legs tighter to try and get more stains of his cum. He pants and groans against your skin, his lips latching back around that one bruise he seems to be obsessed with.
There’s so much cum. Bucky grinds into your fist, and it just keeps coming and coming and coming until your fingers are sticky and drenched. The idea of him doing that inside you is almost a little terrifying. You’ve never wanted anything more.
A choked sound like your name comes out, muffled against your skin. You smile, leaning back to try and meet his gaze.
Bucky seems to need a second. You hope you didn’t already wear him out.
“You okay?” You whisper, and he tenses.
Bucky pulls back, and your pulse picks up into a drum.
Whatever he’d been before, it had been tame compared to this. His jaw is clenched, his attention fixed on you like a predator. His chest heaves, his hands limp at his side. You swallow, feeling a lot smaller than you did a second ago.
You can’t stop yourself from looking down. It only makes things worse.
He’s bigger than he felt. His cum is dripping down his thigh, and it’s barely been a minute, but he’s already getting hard again. You drag your eyes up the expanse of his chest—all flushed skin and muscle—and realize he hasn’t stopped staring at you. You lick your lips. He mimics the movement.
“It won’t fit.” You says again, but your tone has lost all the teasing mockery of before.
And Bucky’s smirk is dangerous. A thrill rushes through you at the sight of it. You’ve gotten exactly what you wanted.
“Gonna make it fit.” He growls.
You yelp, as he grabs your wrist and yanks you forward. You don’t even slam into his chest before he’s lifting you off the ground with another mind numbing kiss. It’s a distraction. You know that. You don’t really care, though, returning it in a second.
Bucky carries you like you’re a doll, your knees bent like some princess and his warmer arm locked around your waist. He leans over, lowering you to the mattress with a shocking care. For a second you’re fully lost in him. The gentle motion of his lips over yours, the way his hands wander and map your body as he settles you into the mattress.
“So soft.” He mutters. “All that bite, doll, but I knew you’d be so fuckin’ soft for me.”
You’d like to protest, and say that you’re not soft. But Bucky’s kisses are making your head spin, and no single, clear word can make it out of the daze. All you manage is a high, long whine.
Bucky chuckles. His hand pushes under your shirt, almost tickling over your sides.
“You like that?” He tease, his knuckles tracing over the underside of your boobs. “You like bein’ my sweet girl?”
You are not sweet. You try to snap that, but it mostly just comes out a feral grumble. You don’t know how he’s the one with a sound mind right now. You’re not under a sex drug.
You’re just under Bucky. Where it’s very, very warm, and sticky, and nice. His cum is dripping over your clothed core and midriff. You shiver as it hits bare skin, and Bucky smirks against your lips.
“Say it and I give you more.” He rasps. “Say you like it.”
And it’s a game. You know that you like it. He does too. But he’s poking and teasing you, trying to get you spar with him. To get you to play.
So you glare at him when he leans back, spreading your legs wider at the same time. You keep your mouth stubbornly shut.
Bucky grins. He traces the curve of your hips with massive hands, his thumb angling to smear his cum over your navel.
“Look at you.” He mocks. “Beggin’ for me and then can’t even admit she likes it.”
You wrinkle your nose, turning up your chin. Bucky smacks your inner thigh, then rubs his metal palm right over your pussy. The sudden sting then harsh pleasure make your hips push off the bed with a cry. Bucky takes his hand away to splay it on your abdomen, shoving you back down.
“You like gettin’ tossed around, too?” He laughs, and heat floods right to your core. “I’ll toss you around, baby. Make you into a nice little cockslut for me, even let you put my in that pretty mouth.”
He grabs your jaw, and you part your lips in a second. Bucky groans, his cock getting impossibly harder.
“Already listen so well.” He mutters, teasing his two forefingers over your mouth. “Just can admit you fuckin’ love it, do you? Can’t be a good girl and tell the truth.”
You narrow your eyes in defiance, and pretend to bite down on his fingers. It’s not a real bite. Just teeth grazing knuckles. But Bucky understands what it means.
Permission to go further.
His eyes gleam. His cock is already leaking with pre-cum.
“Alright, babydoll.” He rubs your thighs, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. “Have it your way.”
In a single second, Bucky rips off your clothing like it’s paper. You barely have time to feel the cold of the air before he’s grabbing your waist, flipping you onto your stomach, and dragging your ass up in the air. You yelp, fisting your hands in the sheets, and try to twist and see where he is.
A dazed part of your brain that doesn’t remember his hands on your hips sees no one behind you, and almost freaks out.
Then the first stroke of Bucky’s tongue hits your pussy, and you collapse fully into the sheets.
“Oh my-“ Your eyes roll back, as he teases the very tip of his tongue around your clit before dragging it through your folds. “Oh my God-“
“Sensitive fuckin’ pussy.” Bucky muses, and you feel the stubble of his cheek pressing against you thigh. “Barely even touching it. Wonder if I-“
His thumb drags circles just around your clit, and you squeak. He kisses the curve of your ass, going a little fast. You whine trying to drag your own ass in circles to match his motions. You can’t see him. Can’t know if you’re doing well outside of his lips tracing your thigh, and the pleased hums against your skin.
Bucky jerks his thumb suddenly to the side, pushing directly over your clit. You scream, your knees sliding back. Bucky grabs them and pushes them back up, fully exposing your pussy to the air.
“Look at you.” His breath is warm, over that most sensitive spot. “Bet I don’t even need to fuckin’ prep you. You’re so wet, you’d just…”
He makes a deep, rumbling sound, and you almost sob as he drags his tongue right back between your puffed pussy lips. You clench around nothing, his stubbled scraping your clit. Bucky angles his face, letting his tongue flick over your clit. It goes back and forth and back and forth, toying with it before pressing flat. He sucks, hard like a lollipop, and you almost sob into the mattress.
“Sweet.” Bucky whispers, his metal arm wrapping around your legs. “So fuckin’ sweet.”
“Bu- Bucky-“
“Shhh.” He kisses right over your pussy. “Wanna taste, pretty girl. I gotta fuckin’-“ He moans, and the vibration shoots right up your spine. “Gotta taste-“
Bucky presses his face fully into your cunt, and the sound that leaves you almost isn’t human.
He’s good at this. So good at this. It’s a little unfair. Your mouth can’t do anything but hang uselessly open, as Bucky works his jaw against you. He eats you like he’s starved for it. Like he’s a man that wants to drown of an insatiable thirst.
Two hands hold you up in the air, as his tongue plunges ruthlessly in and out of your cunt. You keen, trying to push further back, and the warmer hand wraps up to your spine and shoves your stomach down. It’s a tighter fit like this. Bucky drags his tongue around, and it hits every sensitive area. His beard tickles and scratches, and cold fingers tease your skin.
You get more and more sensitive, with every flick and suck and groan. You’re so wet it’s almost drooling down your legs, mixing with the stains of cum he’d gathered from your midriff and smeared over your legs. The dual heat with his cold hand makes all your nerves stand on end. You pussy clenches again, and Bucky chuckles.
“That’s right.” He mutters, making out with your clit as you gasp for air into the bed. “That’s it, baby, you’re already lettin’ go, aren’t you.”
You whine, and Bucky nips at your ass.
“Aren’t you?”
“Ye- Yes.” You mumble. “’S good, Bucky- So good-“
“I know.” He grunts, pressing his cold, metal thumb down into your clit. “Fuck, baby, I know.”
You whimper, and Bucky starts up on your dripping pussy again. He’s lapping at it, pushing his tongue into your tight hole as he plays with your clit, and white lines your vision.
“I- I’m gonna- Fuck- Bucky-“ You scratch at the sheets. “I’m gonna- Oh God-“
He smacks your clit, spits onto your pussy, and resumes with double the effort. You cry his name, as your orgasm wracks your body. You can feel yourself seizing around him, twitching and writhing in his tight grip as your vision lines with white.
And Bucky doesn’t stop. You’re making a mess all over his face, and he’s rising up, but it’s just pushing you further into the mattress. You whimper, your cunt too sensitive, but he doesn’t even come up for air.
“Shit- Bucky- Oh- Ohhhhh-“
The ache quickly fades into pleasure again. Blinging pleasure that’s just on the wrong side of too much, but pleasure all the same. You squeal, and Bucky just moans against your cunt.
Then you hear it. The slam of his fist against his cock.
He’s jerking off while he eats you out. He’s fucking himself so hard you can hear it, hear the slap of skin, feel all his little moans and grunts right against your pussy, and the thought sends you right over the edge again.
Bucky moans louder, as you cum on his tongue. Just like before, it seems to make him more and more feral. You have a feeling what lucidity that let him tease you before is gone. He’s eating you out the same way he’s kissed you, with rough lips and a fervor that’s almost animalistic. You’re boneless and whimpering into the sheets, taking it over and over as Bucky just keeps working his mouth against your cunt, and fucking his hand.
Then, suddenly, he’s gone. You whine from the lose, trying to roll over and look at him, but he just shoves you back down with a growl. The sound of his hand is getting faster and faster, and a hot weight drops over your back. Bucky presses his face into your neck, and takes a deep breath. You whimper, and he groans. His hips must be rocking, with how the bed is shaking.
“Smells good.” He rasps. “Gonna- Fuck-“
Bucky snaps back up, and you feel him cum more than you even hear it. Hot ropes spurt over your ass and back, seeping down the back off your thighs and into your pussy. You moan at the sensation, pushing back on trembling hands. There’s always just more of it, until you’re so marked up with him you’re sure you’ll never be able to wash it off.
You don’t want to.
With how Bucky grabs your hips and spreads the stain over your skin, you don’t think he does either.
“Shit.” He breathes out, and you hum in agreement. “Gotta- Flip for me, c’mon-“
Bucky helps you roll over. His touches are gentle again, but the gleam in his eyes hasn’t faded. You blink at him, flat on your back with your legs spread. Bucky traces the lips of your cunt, then slowly pushes two fingers inside you. Fucking his cum back into your tight hole. You mewl, eyes fluttering. Your head tosses back, and Bucky smiles
“Good girl.” He coos.
You try not get all gooey and weak just from the praise. Bucky laughs, and you think you might’ve failed.
“Strangling my fingers, doll.” He teases, pulling them right out.
You whimper. You’re too wet and ready not to take something. It’s really not fair to make you wait.
“I know.” He kisses your brow, voice rough. “Trust me, I fuckin’ know. You just gotta tell me you like it, then-“ His cock drags between your folds, and you keen. “All yours.”
You blink at him, opening your mouth to comply.
But you’re at an advantage.
Bucky’s hard again. His body is wound so tight above you, and his every word is thick. Like it’s an effort to speak. He’s still trying to fight against the drug running through his veins.
You want him to give in.
So you close your mouth, and give him a defiant glare.
Bucky growls again, and there’s no more teasing.
His mouth pushes over yours, and it’s not a loving kiss. It’s rough and quick, stealing your breath in seconds and distracting you as Bucky grabs your knees and shoves them back. You try to chase his lips, when he pulls away, but he shoves you back down with a grunt.
“Wanna be a brat.” He grunts. “Gonna get fucked like a brat.”
You almost beam. Yes, please.
Bucky folds you under him, your knees pressed to your chest and your cum-stained pussy on full display. He doesn’t waste time, tapping the head of his cock against your clit before slamming right inside. You’re so soaked you take it with only a hitched breath, but that doesn’t mean your eyes don’t roll back.
He hits right against you pelvis, when he bottoms out. His heavy balls sit on your ass, and the stretch of him is just enough pain to heighten the pleasure. Bucky kisses all over your face as he lets you adjust, but your pussy is greedy. He’d prepared you too well. You’re more than ready within seconds.
“Bu- Bucky-“ You gaps out, and he growls against your neck. “Move.”
If he’d told you to wait, you wouldn’t have been surprised.
But the drug seems to have overtaken him again, and all you get is a noise like a snarl against your throat before Bucky draws almost all the way out, and slams back in.
The air is knocked clean from your lungs. This time, he hit right against your g-spot, and your whole body seizes up. Bucky makes a low, deep noise, and repeats the motion. Again, he drives right into that gooey spot deep inside of you. You clench around him, and he doubles over, rutting deep inside of you.
“The- There-“ You whimper, fingers scrambling in the sheets. “Fuck, baby, right there-“
Bucky grunts an agreement, and starts to fuck you into the mattress. The angle is so deep you’re worried he’s going to permanently rearrange your guts. Every slam of his cock into your makes you see heaven, and Bucky pants over your, his eyes locked onto yours as your face contorts with pleasure.
He’s not even fucking you like a brat. He’s fucking you like a doll. He grabs at your limbs and moves them below him like you’re just a sleeve for his dick, and he needs you into just the right spot. One hand fists in your hair, forcing your neck a little up so you can watching your arousal gleam on his cock every time he pulls out. He moans every time he pushes back in, and you watch your cunt swallow his dick whole. A wet, smacking sound filling the room as he drills into you. He bends you even further to kiss over your neck and breasts, his tongue dragging in rhythm with his dick.
You try to clench around him every time he bottoms out, but your head is sort of empty, and now you’re just a drooling pussy around his massive cock, moaning his name and happily milking every bit of pleasure.
“Oh- Oooooh-“ You mewl, smiling like a cockdrunk idiot at the air. “Buuuucky-“
His mouth presses back over yours, and the kiss is strangely soft. His fucking hasn’t slowed or relented, but there’s a care with how his lips move over yours that makes you feel worshipped.
That’s what he’d said he’d do. Worship you. And you can really feel it here.
Bucky draws back, and the hand that had been fisted in your hair moves to your jaw. He squeezes again. You open for him easily, and his lips twitch.
“Good girl.” He coos, even if the words are tighter than before.
He spits into your mouth. You swallow obediantly, and open again when he squeezes your cheeks. Bucky slams forward with a groan, looking like a man wrecked.
“You fuckin’ like it, don’t you-“
“Love it.” You gasp, unable to even think to deny him again. “Love you, Bucky- Oh- Oh my god-“
Bucky makes a ragged, choked sound, and cums almost without warning. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, as he pumps you full of his release. It feels like even more than before. Like you’re going to burst with how full you are, spurts of it still being forced out as Bucky fucks you through. You’ve never felt so totally claimed, with him all over every inch of your skin. He kisses you and you giggle, dazed and almost high on the feeling.
And he’s not even done.
The period of lucidity between orgasms gets shorter before it gets longer. Bucky’s ability to control himself almost vanishes all together. You get a kiss and broken mumble of your name before you’re being flipped back onto your stomach and fucked from behind. There will be handprints on your ass and thighs in the morning, and the sheets are stained with your drool from how Bucky railed you from behind.
You’re dragged into his lap right after, and he pushes his thumb into your mouth, then ruts up into your gaping cunt. You’re all moans and ditzy smiles by that point. When rolls you back onto your stomach and sits up on his knees, you just take it with moans and giggles and cries of delight.
He hasn’t just ruined you. He’s pulled you apart a million times over, until you’re just a puddle that sings his name.
You don’t even fully realize he’s done, when he kisses pulls out that last time. You whine, and clench around nothing, but expect to get filled right back up.
Then Bucky kisses you, and it’s slow. Savoring and sweet. Romantic. His voice is hoarse, but it’s lost the strained quality. He’s fully teasing again, smiling against your lips.
“So soft.” He coos, rubbing your thoroughly abused pussy with his warm hand.
You writhe, trying to get further and closer at the same time. Bucky chuckles, and kisses the corner of your mouth.
“Jesus, doll. You’d think you were the one that got sex drugged.”
You try to glare at him, but forget why the moment you see his pretty eyes, shining on yours.
They’re blue again.
“You’re back?” You breathe, and Bucky grins.
He ducks down, and presses another quick kiss over your lips.
“I’m back.”
You’re ordered not to move, while he cleans up. You don’t think you could if you tried. Your body is jelly, everything is sore in the best way, and your head is spinning with too many thoughts of what the fuck happened.
You told Bucky you love him. You told Bucky you love him. You’d never even fully admitted it in your head and he just fucked it right out of you. You said it fast, too fast, he thought you hated him four hours ago and now he must think you’re some kind of freak for just saying you love him.
He makes you drink water and go to the bathroom. Draws you a bath and brings you a snack and changes the sheets. You manage to find the strength to stand out of the tub and dry yourself off, wrapping the towel around your body before shuffling out in the center of his room.
God, he’s so handsome. All tan muscles and scars you want to trace with your tongue. Too bad you fucking blew it, and now you’re never going to get to touch him again-
Bucky turns, and smiles when he sees you. You swallow, bracing for the worst as he crosses the room.
He takes your face between his hands and kisses you. Deep and gentle and maybe he just forgot-
“Love you too.” He says against your lips. “Just- Uh- While we’re saying it.”
Oh.
Or that. That’s nice.
You throw everything you have into kissing him back, but end up tackling him down onto the bed with the sudden surge of strength. Bucky chokes out a laugh in surprise, wrestling you over onto your back with kiss and wandering hands. You giggle, trying to push back, and he nips at the tip of your nose.
Then he pauses, and pulls up with a small, worried frown.
“You’re stayin’ the night, right?”
You almost snort. There’s no getting rid of you now. You’re going to stay forever, and as long as he’ll allow after that.
“Yeah. I’m staying.”
✦End note: this was longer than my college thesis btw. and i. put more effort into it.✦
✦If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3✦
the road stretched endlessly ahead, the hum of the tires filling the silence between you and deadpool. you had your hands on the wheel, gripping it so tightly your knuckles turned white. beside you, wade was sprawled out in the passenger seat, boots propped up on the dash like he owned the place.
it had been quiet for too long, so of course, he had to ruin it.
“so,” wade drawled, stretching. “if they can fix your world, what's the first thing you're gonna do when you get out of here?”
you didn’t even look at him. “get some tequila shots. maybe a wiper fluid chaser if i’m feeling reckless.”
he let out a low whistle. “damn. a woman after my own heart. you trying to impress me? because it’s working.”
“you’re a low bar.”
“ouch. right in my emotionally stunted heart.” he pressed a hand to his chest, feigning pain.
you rolled your eyes, focusing on the road, until something clicked in your brain.
“wait…what did you say?”
wade blinked at you. “i said, when we get out of here, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do?”
“no. no. before that.”
there was a pause. wade hesitated, then muttered, “…if they can fix your world?”
your heart stopped. the wheel creaked beneath your fingers.
“what do you mean, ‘if’?”
he shifted uncomfortably. “i mean… y’know…”
you turned to look at him, and your glare could have burned a hole through his mask.
“…you lied to me.”
wade’s hands shot up. “no, no, no! i mean-ow, fuck-”
you slammed the brakes. the honda odyssey lurched forward, sending wade crashing into the dashboard with a satisfying thud.
“fuck! my spleen! my second spleen! my third- wait, how many spleens do i have?”
you grabbed him by the collar of his suit, yanking him close until his masked face was inches from yours.
“you don’t have a fucking clue if they can help me fix things, do you?”
“no! i mean-ow-fuck!-”
you slammed him back against the seat.
“you lied.”
“no! i made an educated wish!”
“an educated wish?” you echoed, voice dripping with venom.
“yes, it’s like an educated guess but with more ‘please let this work, universe’ energy!”
you glared at him, chest rising and falling with rage, but he wasn’t squirming the way a normal person would be. no, he was looking at you, really looking at you, like he was enjoying this.
you bared your teeth. “you think this is funny?”
“no.” a beat. “…okay, maybe a little.”
your claws popped out, the metallic snikt filling the van. wade let out a low whistle.
“god, that’s sexy.”
“shut up.”
you were about to carve his throat out, but then, he pulled something out of his suit. a photo. crumpled, bloodstained. you frowned, staring down at it.
“…what is this?”
his voice was quieter now. “my entire world.”
you hesitated. the photo was of a woman, dark-haired, beautiful, smiling up at the camera. vanessa. you recognized her. there were others in the picture, too, faces that meant something to him.
“it’s only nine people,” wade continued, “and i have no idea how to save it alone.”
you felt something in your chest tighten. you hated that.
his voice softened. “i know how to fuck people up for money. but you? you know how to save ‘em.”
you swallowed. looked away. “i don’t know how to save worlds.”
he smirked, head tilting. “no, but you sure as hell know how to ruin a man’s entire f*cking life with just a look. and i gotta say… it’s kinda hot.”
you rolled your eyes. “you’re unbelievable.”
“and yet, here i am, trapped in a minivan with the sexiest murder machine i’ve ever met.”
your eyes flickered down to his lips before you could stop yourself.
no. no. absolutely not.
“i should kill you” you muttered.
“i mean, you could try, but i’d probably moan about it.”
that was it. you swung, but he caught your wrist.
the radio clicked on.
the air shifted. your breath hitched.
then, you both lunged.
the honda odyssey rocked violently as you slammed into each other. claws scraped against fabric. wade was laughing, arms wrapped around your waist as you pinned him down against the seat.
“oh, you dirty bitch” he groaned, hands sliding down to your hips.
“you love it” you shot back.
“i really, really do.”
he flipped you over, but you yanked him back.
he slammed you into the dashboard.
“fuck!” you growl, shaking off the hit. pain flares through your ribs, but it’s already healing. your head snaps up, eyes burning with rage.
wade is sitting in the backseats, chest rising and falling, hands flexing at his sides. his mask is torn, exposing the cockiest fucking smirk you’ve ever seen.
he brings up two fingers. flicks them toward himself. a gesture as if to say ‘come here’.
“i take it all back.” his voice is low, smug, taunting, throwing his head back. “the honda odyssey fucks hard! too bad we don’t, baby.”
your stomach flips.
rage coils in your chest, but it’s not just that, it’s something else. something dangerous. something that makes your breath come faster, your heart slam harder.
you crawl back to him, straddling his lap. you reach for his throat, pressing your claws against his neck, but not enough to cut him.
too close.
his breath is hot against your lips.
his other hand trails down your side, slow, teasing.
his mask was half-torn, revealing his mouth, his scars. His eyes, behind the fabric, were blown wide.
“I should throw you out of this car” you murmured, but your hands were still gripping his suit.
“I’d just climb back in,” he muttered. “you mad at me, sweetheart?” his voice is playful.
“you’re an asshole.”
“yeah, but you like it.”
your heart is hammering.
his mask is half gone, and his lips are right there.
fuck it.
you crash your mouth against his.
wade grunts in surprise but melts into it instantly.
his grip on your hips tightens, his other hand sliding into your hair. his lips are warm, rough, desperate. his teeth graze your bottom lip, and you growl, nipping at his in return.
the kiss turns filthy.
your claws sink into his shoulders. he groans, but presses closer. his hands gripping your hip.
his hand moves from your hair, trailing lower.
dangerously low.
you break away, panting.
his lips are swollen, pink. his eyes are blown wide, pupils dark.
“…are we still fighting?” you breathe.
his grin is wicked.
“god, i hope so.”
and then, he’s kissing you again.
harder. rougher.
his hand grabbed your ass firmly, and squeezed it, pulling you harder against him with a groan that's half pleasure, half pain from your claws.
you rolled your hips against his to tease him. he inhaled sharply as you ground against him, his grip on your ass tightening. a grin spreaded across his face, even as his hips bucked involuntarily to meet yours. you moaned, feeling him hardening under you. one of his hands moves to your jaw, tilting your head for better access as his lips find your neck. he nibbled, sucked, left a mark, knowing it'll heal in seconds with your healing factor.
you kept grinding against him, trying to create some friction where you needed him. he groaned, his hands moving to your hips. he lifted you slightly, adjusting your position so that you're lined up with the bulge in his pants and held you in place, his hips thrusting upward in a slow, teasing rhythm. his breath hitches as you ground against him, his fingers digging into your hips. “shit…”
you reached out for the zipper of your yellow and black suit, pulling it down. his eyes widened, a smirk curling his lips. “well, somebody's eager…” he reached up, helping you tug the zipper all the way down. his hands slipped inside, helping you out the suit.
as soon as you undressed yourself, you kissed him again, desperately. he met your desperate kiss with his own. his hands roamed your bare back possessively. one hand slid down to cup your ass again. he boosted you up slightly, then ground up again, making you moan. he swallowed the sound, then broke the kiss, panting heavily. his hands moved to the front of his own pants, quickly undoing them. he shoved them down just enough to free himself. he was already hard.
he grinned wickedly at your hungry gaze “like what you see, claws?” he teased. without warning, he lifted you and positions you, rubbing the tip teasingly against your entrance. you moaned and pressed yourself more against him.
he groaned at the feeling, his hands gripping your hips tighter. with a swift movement, he thrusted up, entering you in one smooth motion. he stays still for a moment, savoring the feeling. “fuck... you're so tight…”
you started riding him, going up and down slowly, just to annoy him. he tightened his jaw, his fingers digging into your hips again. you were teasing him, with slow, torturous movements. he swallowed a growl. he let you control the rhythm, knowing full well you were trying to drive him crazy.
you smirk and start tracing a line of small wet kisses along his jaw. his breath hitched, the slow ride driving him insane. he tried to maintain control, but it was slipping. his hands slid up your back, gripping your shoulders, trying to make you increase the pace.
“wow so i made you shut your mouth for longer then 2 minutes? record” you teased him, whispering it into his ear. he snarled at your teasing, his control snapping. he started thrusting up hard and fast, chasing his release. one hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a brutal kiss. you kissed him back.
he was hitting every right spot inside of you, making you a moaning mess. he felt you tightening around him, your moans spurring him on. his hips thrusted relentlessly, each thrust deliberately aimed at that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “you’re not teasing anymore, are you?” he teased with a smirk.
“fuck off and keep going” you ordered, trying to not sound too desperate, but failing. he chuckled darkly, obeying your order with a renewed vigor. his pace becomes almost punishing, each powerful thrust stirring up those delicious sensations within you. "yes, ma'am" he quipped sarcastically, though his strained voice betrays his own desperation.
you could feel you were close, and by the way your pussy was tightening around his cock he could tell too. his breathing became ragged. one hand moves between you to rub your clit in fast circles, pushing you closer to the edge. "c'mon, claws..." he rasped, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.
“oh fuck” you cried out loud as you finally reached your orgasm. he growled as he felt you convulse around him, pulling him deeper. his own release was right there, but he wanted more. he kept thrusting, drawing out your release, making you whimper and shudder. "not done"
you were crying out for the overstimulation, everything was so sensitive. he showed no mercy, continuing to thrust into you as you try to squirm away from the overwhelming sensations. his fingers continued their relentless rubbing, pushing you towards another release you were not ready for. "look at me”. you tried to look at him despite the urge to close your eyes and roll your head back.
his eyes locked onto yours, intense and unyielding. he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as he pushed you over the edge again. his hips stuttering as he finally reached his own release inside you. “fuck” you said out of breath, you were shaking.
he continued to kiss you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as he slowly came down from his high. he broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing heavy. "fuck, i love the way you come apart for me..."
“oh shut up” after a minute or two of silence, you finally gave in. “ok, i’ll help you save your world”
a/n: let me know you liked it, and if you did, don’t be scared to like, comment or reblog, it would really help me since this blog is new. let me know if you have any kind of request, not just for deadpool, it can be of any marvel character or more, i’m happy to write them <3
summary: in which deadpool is hired to kill you, only to realize you two were once best friends.
based on this request: “For the request, I wanted a sfw one where Deadpool and the reader character were good friends in high school but drifted apart after graduation. They meet later on where the reader is now a bitter scientist with a facial scar that causes them to wear a mask, and Deadpool was hired to kill them, but he somehow recognizes them. (Bonus points if you could have the reader character also be a mutant that has the ability to replicate themself)”
warnings: none, hurt/comfort
word count: 1.1k
lowercase intended
the first time wade wilson met you, you were both fifteen, sitting in the back of a detention room, trading insults like currency. you were sharp, mean even, but funny. funny enough that he liked you immediately. you were also the only person who could match his wit, who could take whatever nonsense he threw your way and launch it back twice as fast.
you and wade were inseparable for a while, two misfits finding comfort in shared sarcasm and bad decisions. then high school ended. life happened. and somehow, you lost each other.
so it’s a little ironic that the next time wade sees you, he’s supposed to kill you.
“so, who’s the unlucky bastard this time?” wade asks, flipping the manila folder open. he’s perched on the edge of a rooftop, legs swinging like a kid on a swing set, while weasel leans against the railing, sipping a beer.
“some scientist,” weasel says, glancing at his phone. “been making waves in the mutant community. rumor is they’ve been messing with some high-profile genetics. pissed off the wrong people.”
wade hums, eyes scanning the file. the picture is grainy, security footage most likely, but he can make out the basics-lab coat, dark gloves, a mask covering the lower half of their face.
“ooh, mysterious. i like it. any superpowers i should know about? do they explode? teleport? please tell me they explode.”
“they replicate.”
“…come again?”
“they can make copies of themselves. like, full-on clones. real bodies, not illusions. makes them a pain in the ass to fight, apparently.”
wade whistles. “hot damn. that’s kinda cool. and by ‘cool’ i mean ‘deeply annoying for me.’ you know i hate math. having to count how many people i’m fighting? ugh, exhausting.”
“just get it done, man.” weasel shakes his head. “client’s paying big for this one.”
breaking into your lab is easy. too easy, honestly, and that should be his first clue. the building is state-of-the-art, all shiny metal and sterile lighting, but the security is laughable. no guards, just a couple of cameras and a keycard system that takes him all of three minutes to bypass.
it almost feels like a trap.
but wade’s been doing this long enough to know a trap when he sees one, and this? this just feels… off.
he creeps through the hallways, twin pistols drawn, until he reaches the main lab. inside, various pieces of high-tech equipment hum softly, monitors displaying streams of data he doesn’t understand. and in the middle of it all, hunched over a workstation, is you.
he doesn’t recognize you at first. the years have changed you. your hair is shorter, your posture is different, stiffer, more guarded. and then there’s the mask, sleek and black, covering your face.
but your eyes.
your eyes are the same.
and when you finally glance up, some kind of instinct kicks in, because his brain short-circuits and the only thing he can say is:
“holy shit.”
your eyes narrow, and suddenly there are three of you.
“who the hell are you?” all three of you ask in unison, voices overlapping in eerie harmony.
wade lets out a low whistle. “okay, that is deeply unsettling. but also kind of hot? no? just me? cool, cool.”
the clones move fast. one of them lunges at him, but wade sidesteps easily, pistol-whipping it in the back of the head. it stumbles but doesn’t fall.
“damn, you’re strong. do you work out?”
another one swings at him, and he ducks, twisting to fire a shot, only for the clone to dissipate into nothing.
“oh, come on,” wade groans. “fake-out clones? that’s just rude.”
the real you, or at least, the one that doesn’t vanish when he swings at it, grabs a scalpel from the desk and slashes at his arm. it cuts through the suit, drawing blood, and wade gasps dramatically.
“betrayed! by my own high school bestie! this is worse than that time you ate the last slice of pizza during our senior year movie night!”
you freeze. just for a second.
and that’s all it takes.
“oh my god,” wade breathes, stepping back slightly, lowering his guns. “it is you. holy shit.”
your grip tightens around the scalpel. “how do you know that?”
“babe, please. nobody roasts me like you do. it’s a very specific skill set.”
you stare at him for a long moment, then scoff. “wade wilson.”
“the one and only. except for that one guy in minnesota, but he spells it with a ‘y,’ so he doesn’t count.”
you don’t laugh. wade thinks that might be the biggest tragedy of the night.
ten minutes later, you’re sitting on a metal table, bandaging wade’s arm because “if you’re gonna stick around, at least stop bleeding all over my lab.”
the silence is heavy. thick with unspoken things.
“so,” wade finally says. “mask. cool look. very ‘mysterious anti-hero.’”
your hands pause for a second. “it’s not for style.”
wade gets it before you even have to explain. the way you won’t meet his eyes. the tension in your shoulders. his voice is softer when he says, “what happened?”
“an accident,” you murmur. “lab explosion. i got lucky. but my face…” you exhale sharply. “it’s not exactly presentable anymore.”
wade is quiet for a moment. then, carefully, he reaches out, gloved fingers brushing against yours.
“yeah, well,” he says, tone deliberately light. “neither is mine.”
you let out a soft, almost bitter laugh.
“besides,” wade continues, “if i had a dollar for every time someone told me i was hard to look at, i’d have, like, at least twenty bucks. which, for the record, is a lot of times.”
this time, when you look at him, there’s something gentler in your gaze.
“you’re still an idiot,” you mutter.
“yeah,” wade agrees, shifting slightly closer. “but i’m your idiot.”
there’s a beat of hesitation, just long enough for you to make a choice. then, slowly, carefully, you reach up and pull your mask down.
your scar runs from your cheekbone down to your jaw, healed but unmistakable. wade doesn’t flinch. doesn’t even blink.
instead, he tilts his head and grins. “badass. very villainous. ten out of ten.”
you huff a laugh, shaking your head, and before you can think too hard about it, wade leans in and presses his lips to yours.
it’s not dramatic. not a hollywood kiss. just something warm, solid, grounding.
when you pull away, wade’s grinning like an idiot.
“i’ve wanted to do this since high school” he admits, almost fangirling. “so,” he says, “does this mean i don’t have to kill you?”
you roll your eyes. “just shut up and kiss me again.”
and he does.
a/n: let me know you liked it, and if you did, don’t be scared to like, comment or reblog, it would really help me since this blog is new. let me know if you have any kind of request, not just for deadpool, it can be of any marvel character or more, i’m happy to write them <3
could I request a deadpool x reader in whiiiiich the reader and wade are both doing individual missions at the same place, and wade purposely fucks up the reader's mission?
love you and take care!
-👻
sixpounder
deadpool (wade wilson) x f!reader
summary: in which deadpool fucks up your mission.
also based on the song “sixpounder” by children of bodom.
the warehouse reeked of blood and sweat, the scent thick in the air, clinging to the steel beams above. outside, thunder rumbled low in the sky, shaking the ground beneath your boots. lightning flashed through the grime-coated skylights, casting long, jagged shadows against the concrete.
perfect weather for a kill.
you had moved through the building like a ghost, silent, efficient, your target locked in the crosshairs of your mind. sergei antonov. arms dealer, smuggler, and all-around piece of shit. he was somewhere up ahead, holed up in his office behind a few layers of disposable muscle.
this was supposed to be easy.
then you heard it.
gunfire. but not the kind that came from careful, calculated kills. not the clean, methodical shots of a professional.
this was something else.
then a laugh.
his laugh.
you pressed yourself against a crate, your pulse a slow, seething beat as you peeked around the corner.
deadpool.
fucking deadpool.
twisting through the open space like a goddamn maniac, his twin pistols barking in rapid succession, bodies dropping before they could even scream. blood slicked the floor beneath his boots, glistening under the dim, flickering lights.
he was enjoying himself.
your hands tightened around your weapon.
of all the places, of all the jobs, why did it have to be him?
the last guard fell with a wet thud, and then, like he sensed you, wade turned.
his body stilled.
then his head tilted.
“oh, shit,” he said, his voice light with amusement. “you’re gonna be so mad at me.”
your finger twitched against the trigger. “what the fuck are you doing here?”
“same thing as you, obviously,” he said, holstering one of his pistols and spreading his arms. “doing crimes. being sexy. looking really good while doing both.”
you barely resisted the urge to pull the trigger. “you’re fucking up my mission, wilson.”
“oh, c’mon, our mission. teamwork makes the dream work, baby.”
“we are not a team.”
“not yet.”
you inhaled sharply, forcing down the fire burning through your veins. antonov was still alive, and if he wasn’t already making a run for it, he would be soon. you did not have time for this.
you clenched your jaw. “you’re ruining my fucking job, wilson.”
“ruining? or making it more fun?”
his voice was teasing, playful, deliberate.
he wanted to get under your skin. he wanted to watch you snap.
he was toying with you.
you took a slow step forward, the gun still steady in your grip. “you need to get the fuck out of my way.”
he exhaled a low whistle, cocking his head. “or what? you gonna shoot me?”
“don’t fucking tempt me.”
“oh, baby,” he purred, taking a step of his own. “i am begging you to try.”
the air between you was thick, electric, charged with something dark and unrelenting.
you could feel it in the way his body coiled, in the way his hands flexed at his sides, like he was ready for a fight. like he wanted one.
then he lifted his pistol and fired
not at you.
not at the remaining guards.
but at the security panel on the far wall.
alarms erupted through the warehouse.
red warning lights flashed, metal shutters slamming down over the exits. the whole place was in lockdown.
your mission was officially fucked.
you turned back to him, your fury cold and sharp.
“are you fucking kidding me?”
wade let out a low laugh. “oh, you’re really mad now, huh?”
before you could stop yourself, you moved.
you slammed him back against the nearest crate, gun digging into his ribs, your other hand fisting the fabric of his suit.
he let you.
his body went still beneath your touch, his breath slow, measured.
then-
“fuck,” he whispered, voice rough. “that’s hot.”
your grip tightened. “you just cost me my goddamn payday.”
“yeah,” he murmured, “but look how close we are right now.”
his voice dripped with amusement, but his body betrayed him.
his chest rose and fell a little too quickly. his hands, now resting lightly on your hips, twitched, like he was barely holding himself back.
you pressed the barrel of your gun harder against his ribs.
“give me one good reason i shouldn’t kill you right now.”
his head tilted, his grin slow.
“because you don’t want to.”
you hated that he was right.
you pulled your knife from its sheath in one quick motion, pressing it against his throat, just under his jaw.
he inhaled sharply.
“fuck” he groaned, his head falling back against the crate. “fuck.”
your breathing was ragged, your body thrumming with something dangerous, something that had been there for far too long, always on the edge, always threatening to spill over.
this game between you had never been simple.
it had always been fire and gasoline, violence laced with something deeper, something unstoppable.
“tell me” he rasped, voice lower now, rougher, “what are you going to do now?”
you didn’t think.
you didn’t hesitate.
in one swift motion you let your weapons fall to the ground and you you lifted his mask, revealing only half of his face, his lips.
he crashed his lips against yours. the tension that had been smoldering for so damn long erupted.
the kiss was violent, all teeth and desperation, a clash of fury and heat. wade groaned into it, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, pulling you against him like he wanted to devour you whole.
you barely registered the knife slipping from your fingers, your focus narrowing to the way his mouth moved against yours, hungry, reckless, starving.
his back hit the crate again as you pushed into him, your nails scraping against the torn fabric of his suit, dragging him closer.
“this doesn’t mean i forgive you” you murmured against his lips, breathless.
his grin was sharp. “oh, sweetheart, we both know you’re gonna make me earn that.”
wade groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your hips like he needed to anchor himself or risk losing control completely. his fingers dug into you, pulling you closer, pressing you against him in a way that left no space, no room for hesitation, no room for anything but this fire that had been threatening to consume you both for too fucking long.
his mouth was desperate, hungry, moving against yours with a force that was almost violent. teeth clashed, lips bruised, tongues tangling in a brutal push and pull. it wasn’t sweet. it wasn’t gentle. it was raw, untamed, a battle in its own right.
you barely realized when it was your back that hit the crates now, the cold steel digging into your spine as wade caged you in, his breath heavy, his hands never still, trailing up your sides, sliding under the hem of your shirt, rough fingertips skimming over bare skin.
“fuck,” he rasped against your lips. “fuck, i’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
your nails raked down his chest, catching on the torn fabric of his suit. “then shut up and enjoy it while you can”
a growl rumbled deep in his throat, and then he did.
his mouth was everywhere, along your jaw, down your throat, nipping, sucking, marking. he tore at your clothes like they were an inconvenience, like he needed you now and couldn’t stand the barriers between you.
and you were just as desperate.
your hands yanked at his suit, fingers slipping under the fabric, finding warm skin, feeling the muscle beneath. his body was riddled with scars, imperfections, the rough evidence of his past written across his flesh and you wanted to feel all of it.
his teeth scraped against your collarbone, and you gasped, arching into him.
“shit” you breathed.
he chuckled darkly, his lips trailing lower. his hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with zero effort, pressing you harder against the crate as his body slotted perfectly against yours. the heat between you was unbearable, the friction setting every nerve on fire.
you tugged his head back by the fabric of his mask, forcing his gaze to meet yours. his chest was heaving, his pupils blown wide, his mouth red and swollen from kissing you like a man starved.
“this doesn’t change anything” you murmured, your nails digging into his shoulders.
he smirked. “bullshit.”
you bit his lip in retaliation, and he groaned, his fingers tightening around your thighs.
and then he kissed you again, and this time, there was no stopping, no hesitation, no restraint.
his hand raised up your thigh, until it finally arrived to cup your pussy. his fingers grazing it.
your rolled your hips against his hand, trying to create more friction, you needed it. he noticed it and smirked. he quickly undid your pants and slipped his fingers inside your panties. he started circling your clit while he kissed you, his other hand squeezing your ass. as he did that you pressed your thigh against his now visible erection,he groaned. “fuck you’re killing me like this”
you smirked and kept teasing him. you loved it.
you couldn’t wait anymore and in one swift motion you got rid of your pants, and sat on the crates. he quickly pulled down his bottom and boxers and you pulled him closer wrapping your legs around his hips.
at first he was just teasing you, rubbing his length against your clit and between your folds, you moaned.
“stop fucking teasing me” you ordered, you couldn’t take it anymore, not after all the tension that you two built up during the years you’ve known each other.
“you’re so needy, aren’t you?” he teased.
“you’re not going to shut up, are you?” you answered annoyed.
“no, not when i’m awake” and with that, he was inside you. he pushed his cock inside of you, making a loud moan escape from your mouth, you weren’t expecting it, but you liked it.
he started moving inside you, gripping the sides of the crate under you. you pulled his face closer to yours cupping his cheeks with your hands, and you kissed him again, hungrily. you moaned again.
“still wanna blame me for the mission? go ahead” he said, knowing damn well that every word out of your mouth would turn into a moan.
“oh fuck” you moaned, you wanted to say it was his fault, just to get under his skin but you wouldn’t even be able to form a whole sentence. he kept hitting that one spot inside of you that made your eyes roll to the back of your head and wish that this moment lasted forever.
with one hand he started rubbing your clit, just to get you exactly how he wanted you to be: a moaning, desperate mess. just for him.
he could sense that you were about to cum by the way your pussy started clenching around his cock, more and more. with one last thrust deep inside you, you could feel him cum, and that was enough to reach your orgasm too. you cried out, muffling your moans against his lips. he smirked at you.
“fuck, you keep doing shit like that, and i might just fall in love.”
“you already did” you shot back, breathless.
his head tilted, his grin wicked. “oh, sweetheart, you know i did.”
a/n: let me know you liked it, and if you did, don’t be scared to like, comment or reblog, it would really help me since this blog is new. let me know if you have any kind of request, not just for deadpool, it can be of any marvel character or more, i’m happy to write them <3
summary: in which you and pietro maximoff go undercover as a married couple, your mutual hatred simmering beneath forced smiles and lingering touches. but when the mission turns chaotic, tension ignites, and in the heat of escape, neither of you can resist what’s been building all night.
warnings: mature content mdni (unprotected sex, oral f receiving) enemies to lovers, language.
words count: 3.3k
lowercase intended
the ballroom was suffocatingly opulent, gold chandeliers glinting off crystal glasses, the murmur of conversation laced with greed and danger. you tugged at the delicate lace of your gown, suppressing the urge to adjust the wedding ring on your finger. it felt heavy, unnatural. and not just because it wasn’t real.
“stop fidgeting, dragă mea” pietro murmured in your ear, his accent curling around the pet name with practiced ease. his hand settled on your lower back, fingers pressing just hard enough to make you stiffen.
you tilted your head up at him, keeping the picture-perfect facade of a loving wife, even as you dug your nails into his arm. “touch me like that again and i’ll break those fingers.”
pietro grinned, far too entertained by your irritation. “that is no way to speak to your husband, love.”
the word dripped with mockery, and you bit back a scathing retort. instead, you let your lips part in a soft smile, eyes heavy-lidded as you trailed a finger down the lapel of his suit. “then act like a husband,” you purred. “and stop eye-fucking every blonde in this room.”
his grip on your waist tightened, just for a fraction of a second. “jealous already?”
you leaned in, so close your lips nearly brushed his. “i’d have to want you for that, maximoff.”
he chuckled lowly, shifting just enough that his breath tickled the shell of your ear. “liar.”
you inhaled sharply, about to throw something equally venomous back, when a sharp ding rang through the room. the auction was beginning.
the act continued as you both took your seats near the front. pietro played the part of the arrogant, entitled buyer well, legs spread lazily, fingers drumming against your thigh as if he owned you. every time you shifted to brush him off, his grip would tighten. a silent challenge. a reminder.
you retaliated with lingering touches of your own, fingertips dragging over the back of his hand as you leaned in to whisper into his ear, voice honey-sweet. “try not to make it so obvious how much you’re enjoying this.”
pietro turned his head, his lips a breath away from yours, blue eyes flickering dark with something unreadable. “oh, i’m enjoying this?” his voice dropped to a whisper, teasing and taunting. “you’re the one breathing a little heavier every time i touch you.”
you scoffed, rolling your eyes, but you knew he was right. the heat simmering between you two had been building all night, long before tonight, if you were honest with yourself.
as the bidding began, pietro leaned back in his chair, arm draped casually around your shoulders. “stay close” he murmured, the romanian words for my wife sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. “wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”
“oh?” you mused, turning your head to graze your lips against his jaw, just to see if he’d flinch. “and what idea would that be?”
his smirk was pure sin. “that you belong to anyone but me.”
your heart stuttered. you hated him. hated the way he could flip the game on you so effortlessly. hated that, right now, you weren’t entirely sure where the act ended and something real began.
the auction concluded. the stolen s.h.i.e.l.d. weapon was yours. and then, everything went to hell.
gunfire rang through the ballroom. guests screamed, overturning tables in their rush to flee. you and pietro moved in sync, slipping away in the chaos. he grabbed your wrist, pulling you through a side door into a dimly lit hallway.
he didn’t stop until he had you pressed against the cool marble wall, one hand braced beside your head, the other still gripping your wrist. his breathing was heavy, his body too close, his heat searing against your skin.
you tried to focus, to ignore the way your pulse betrayed you. “you-”
“you drive me insane” pietro growled, cutting you off.
you blinked, momentarily stunned. “excuse me?”
his fingers traced a slow path up your arm, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “you think i haven’t noticed the way you tease me? the way you love making me jealous?” his lips ghosted over your jaw, and you hated how easily your breath hitched.
you forced a smirk, tilting your chin up defiantly. “jealous? please.”
he huffed a laugh, then suddenly, so fast you barely registered it, he grabbed your hand and pressed it against his chest, right over his racing heart. “tell me that’s not the reason yours is doing the same thing.”
your fingers curled against the fabric of his shirt. damn him. damn him for being right.
the tension that had been building between you for months snapped like a live wire.
you surged forward at the same time he did, mouths colliding in a desperate, bruising kiss. it wasn’t soft. it wasn’t sweet. it was a war, a clash of teeth and tongues, hands roaming, bodies pressing together as if you could erase the distance that had existed for far too long.
pietro groaned against your lips, one hand slipping to your thigh, hoisting it up to press closer against him. “tell me to stop” he murmured, but it wasn’t a challenge this time, it was a plea.
your head was spinning, your heart hammering. “don’t you dare.”
his responding smirk was wicked as he kissed you again, deeper this time, slower, because he knew now. knew that, despite all the arguing, despite all the teasing and venomous words, this had been inevitable.
and neither of you wanted to stop.
you pushed him inside the elevator next to you and once the doors closed you blocked both of you inside, so you could have more privacy.
as the elevator doors slid shut, pietro’s back hit the cool metal wall with a soft thud. you pressed against him, your hands tangling in his hair, deepening the kiss. the small space felt electric, charged with the pent-up energy of months of unspoken desires and heated arguments.
your desperation ignited something dark and hungry in him. his hands moved to your waist, pulling you even closer as he kissed you back with equal fervor. the elevator walls seemed to close in around you, intensifying the moment.
your body was pressed against his while you pushed him more towards the elevator wall.
“fuck,” he gasped against your lips when his back hit the wall, one hand sliding down to grip your ass while the other fisted in your hair. your aggression was driving him crazy. “you’re not very subtle about what you want, are you?” he murmured between messy kisses.
“shut up” you answered, annoyed.
he laughed softly, taking your jaw in one hand and deepening the kiss again. your body was flush against his, one thigh snaked between his legs. he hardened against you, causing you to bite his lower lip.
“damn” he hissed, hips bucking slightly, seeking friction.
in that moment, he flipped the situation. now you were the one pushed against the wall, and he was the one pressing his body against yours. he caged you in with his arms on either side of your head. his kisses became more dominating, his hands roaming possessively over your body. “i think i like when you’re quiet.”
“if you keep talking, i swear i’ll punch you,” you warned him.
he was so annoying, but you kinda liked it. he smirked against your lips, clearly enjoying the fact that you were threatening violence but still keeping quiet.
“oh, how tempting,” he murmured, his hands sliding down your sides, his thumbs brushing over your peaks. “maybe i will make you lose your temper then.”
you found it so frustrating how he annoyed you so much you actually wanted him. you didn’t know what annoyed you the most, if it was the fact he never shut up, or that he kept teasing you, or maybe it was the fact that you loved when he did those things.
he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered teasingly, “you know, for someone who claims to hate my mouth so much, you sure seem to enjoy kissing it.”
his lips quirked into a smug grin as he pulled back slightly to gauge your reaction.
you rolled your hips against his, enjoying how fast this little action made him stop teasing you. you smirked at him.
his eyes narrowed, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin as he realized you were using physical contact to shut him up. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him again. “you think you’re clever, don’t you?”
“oh yes, i am, basing myself on how quickly it worked and made you shut up” you teased.
he threw his head back and laughed, his body relaxing. his hands squeezed your ass softly.
“you know what your problem is?” he teased back, his voice lowering again. “you either want to kill me or…” he paused deliberately, smirking again. “spread your legs for me.”
“oh shut up, like you don’t feel the same way about me” you teased, rolling your hips against his again.
he smiled widely, pressing against you more firmly.
“of course i fucking do,” he admitted shamelessly. “see the problem here, love? neither of us wants to back down. i spend all day wanting to shut you up, then thinking about shutting you up by fucking you instead.”
“then? what’s it gonna be now? will you make me shut up, or will you fuck me?” you teased with a smirk on your face, getting closer to him.
his pupils dilated at your words, clearly enjoying this little dirty banter between you two. his smirk was predatory now as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “both.”
his hands snaked around to grab your thighs, holding you up as if you weighed nothing and pressing you against the wall. the only difference now was that your legs were wrapped around him, and also your arms.
pietro’s kiss became harder, more urgent, reflecting your desperation. his hands dug into your thighs as he ground against you, letting you feel just how much he needed this too.
you moaned.
he broke the kiss abruptly, breathing heavily. pietro’s eyes rolled back slightly at the sound of your moan, his grip on your thighs tightening. he buried his face in your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there.
“fuck, i can’t wait to hear how you sound when i’m inside you” he growled.
soft whimpers and little moans kept escaping your mouth because of his actions and words. you never wanted him and hated him this much at the same time. he was making you lose your mind.
pietro smirked against your neck as he felt your body shudder with each nip and grind. he loved reducing you to these desperate little noises, seeing you unravel.
“mmm, you’re so fucking responsive” he murmured, voice low and husky.
“shut up and kiss me” you ordered, crushing your lips against his again.
pietro groaned into the kiss, not needing to be told twice. his lips moved urgently against yours, tongue thrusting past to claim your mouth thoroughly. one hand slid into your hair, tilting your head for a better angle as he kissed you with weeks’ worth of pent-up frustration and lust.
he ground harder against you, his erection pressing firmly against your core. he knew exactly what he was doing, driving you wild with every movement. he broke the kiss just enough to whisper against your lips, “is this what you want? you want me to fuck you right here, right now?”
“yeah” you smirked.
his smirk matched yours, and he pressed his forehead against yours for a moment, breathing heavily.
“fucking hell” he muttered, then kissed you again, even more fiercely than before. his hands gripped your thighs tighter, positioning you so that his erection rubbed against your clit with each movement.
“fuck, there’s too much clothes” you commented, getting back on your feet and starting to undo his tie.
he watched you unravel his tie, then your quick fingers started to unbutton his shirt. he helped you push it off his shoulders, then your fingers moved to his belt.
he smirked. “you’re way too good at this. how many guys have you undressed?” he teased.
you scoffed. “fuck off.”
he chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours as you worked on his belt. once it was undone, he helped you push down his pants. he stood before you, with just his boxers on.
“better?” he smirked, stepping closer to you again.
“much better” you started to unzip your dress.
his eyes followed your movements intently, darkening with desire as more of your skin was revealed. once your dress pooled at your feet, leaving you in just a lacy bra and panties, he let out a low whistle. “fuck, you’re stunning.”
“i know” you sarcastically rolled your eyes, then leaned in to kiss him again, softer this time.
he laughed at your attitude, pulling you close with one arm wrapped firmly around your waist. “cocky little thing, aren’t you?”
his hand trailed down your spine to unhook your bra. as soon as it joined your dress on the floor, he cupped your breasts possessively, palming their weight. he broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, nuzzling between them.
“panties next?” he asked, his voice muffled against your collarbone.
you nodded desperately.
he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. he knelt down in front of you, helping you step out of them. once you were completely bare, he pressed a soft kiss to your pubic bone, looking up at you with a heated gaze.
you looked down at him, the sight was heavenly, his big blue eyes watching you made him look like an angel, but what he was about to do was the complete opposite.
he smirked, knowing exactly what you were thinking. he spread your thighs slightly with his broad shoulders, his eyes dropping to your core. "god, you're already wet."
“oh so now you’re acting like it’s not your fault” you teased.
he chuckled darkly, leaning in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your center. his tongue swiped through your folds, tasting you deeply. He looked up at you with a smirk. "oh no, i know it is my fault. I love reducing you to a needy mess."
you moaned and He licked you again, his tongue firm and purposeful as it glided over your clit. he knew exactly how to touch you to drive you crazy. he kept eye-contact, watching as your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back, a long, low moan escaping your throat.
he knew you liked it. He could feel your legs trembling as he hooked your thighs over his shoulders, opening you up completely to his mouth. he curled his fingers into your thighs possessively as he continued to lick and suck at your most intimate flesh. "look at me,"
“fuck” you moaned, you were trying so hard to keep your eyes open and look at him, but the pleasure was too much.
he smirked at your inability to maintain eye contact, knowing exactly how good he was making you feel. he slipped one finger inside you, then another, pumping slowly while he licked circles around your clit.
“oh my god pietro” you moaned. you wish you never had said that. you moaned his name. you never called him that, it was always ‘maximoff’ or sometimes to tease him you also called him ‘sonic the hedgehog’, just to get on his nerves, but never pietro.
His eyes snapped up to yours at the sound of his name on your lips. “what did you call me?” A smug smile spread across his face as he continued to finger you slowly, his tongue never stopping its torture on your clit. "again," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "say my name again."
“pietro” you moaned again.
his breath caught at the sound, and he redoubled his efforts, wanting to hear you say it again. his fingers curved upward to stroke that sensitive spot inside you while his tongue flicked rapidly against your clit. "fucking hell... say it one more time"
“pietro” you whispered into his ear “fuck me… please”
a shudder ran through him at your whispered plea. In one fluid motion, he stood, scooping you up and laying you on the floor of the elevator, over your clothes. he quickly took off his boxers freeing his hard erection. "that's what I like to hear" he growled, positioning himself between your thighs.
his blue eyes were locked onto yours as he slowly pushed inside you, filling you completely. He paused, allowing you to feel the fullness of him inside you before slowly pulling back and thrusting forward again. he kept his pace slow and deep, his eyes never leaving yours.
“fuck-“ you moaned as he pushed into you. he placed a hand on the wall of the elevator for support as he continued to move inside you, his hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm. he leaned in closer, his voice husky as he whispered in your ear. "god, you're perfect."
you locked your legs around his hips, pressing him more againt you, and making him thrust faster. a low moan parted his lips as you locked your legs around him, urging him deeper. he obliged, his hips snapping forward with increased fervor. the elevator shook slightly with the force of his thrusts, adding a thrilling sensation to your passionate encounter. "fuck, yes..."
he was making you a fucking moaning mess, he was hitting every right spot repeatedly, you were trying your best to not scream his name out loud.
he could feel you getting tighter around him as you tried to muffle your moans, his name on the tip of your tongue. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer as he pounded into you, his face burying in your neck. "say it"
“oh my god pietro” you cried out. “faster!”
he growled against your neck, his fingers digging into your back as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you so hard and fast. he could feel you getting closer, your nails digging into his back, urging him on. your pussy started tightening around his cock. his breath hitched as he felt you tighten around him, knowing you were close. he thrust once, twice more, hitting that perfect spot inside you. "fuck, you're going to make me cum..." his voice was ragged, breathless, as he fucked you harder, faster.
with a loud moan you finally came, reaching the high you were chasing, it all felt too good. He let out a deep, guttural groan as you tightened around him, pulling him over the edge with you. he came hard, filling you. he continued to thrust through your orgasm, drawing out every last moment of pleasure for both of you. "holy fuck... ". he collapsed on top of you, his body heavy and sated, his face nuzzled against your neck. he could feel your heart racing against his chest, matching his own erratic beat. he slowly lifted his head to look at you, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. "you okay?"
“fuck yeah, more then ok” you chuckled. he chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before rolling off of you and pulling you into his side. "we should probably get out of here before someone catches us”.
“yeah we should, and tony’s still waiting for us…” you said sitting up. he sat up with you, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "damn, tony's going to know something happened” he muttered, buttoning up his pants. "he always does."
a/n: let me know you liked it, and if you did, don't be scared to like, comment or reblog, it would really help me since this blog is new. let me know if you have any kind of request, it can be of any marvel character or more, i'm happy to write them <3
summary: in which wade returns, seeking forgiveness, and despite your doubts, you let him in.
(based on the song “still loving you” by scorpions)
warnings: none, fluff
word count: 1.3k
lowercase intended
rain streaked down the windowpane in uneven rivulets, casting shifting, broken patterns against the dim light of your apartment. the soft hum of the city was muffled by the storm, a distant echo of life moving on without you.
you hated nights like this.
nights where the silence was suffocating, where the memories were louder than any sound.
where you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
it had been weeks since wade wilson had been in your life, but his absence still lingered in every corner of your apartment. the dent in your couch from where he used to throw himself down dramatically after a long day. the stupid cereal he insisted on keeping in your cabinet—some limited-edition sugar bomb with a cartoon mascot that he swore was “a crucial part of his well-balanced deadpool diet.” even now, you couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away.
loving wade had never been easy. he was reckless, infuriating, and utterly incapable of taking anything seriously. but he had also been yours. the man who made you laugh even on your worst days. the man who held you through your fears, whispering ridiculous reassurances in the dark.
and the man who had broken your heart.
you had trusted him. believed in him. but wade, in true wade fashion, had thrown that trust away like it meant nothing.
when you found out about the job, the suicide mission he had agreed to take without telling you, it had nearly destroyed you.
not just because it was dangerous. not just because it meant he might never come back.
but because he hadn’t trusted you enough to tell you.
because he had made the choice alone, as if you weren’t part of his life. as if you weren’t supposed to be the one he leaned on.
so you left.
you had walked out that night, ignoring his calls, his texts, the knocks at your door.
and then, as if the universe was mocking you, there was another knock.
your breath caught.
you knew that knock.
soft at first, then a pause. then another, like he wasn’t sure if he had the right to be here.
wade.
your hands clenched into fists at your sides. you should ignore it. you should pretend you weren’t home. but your feet moved before your brain could catch up, leading you to the door.
you hesitated for a long moment before finally unlocking it and pulling it open.
and there he was.
wade wilson, standing in the rain, mask off, looking more lost than you had ever seen him.
his usually sharp, cocky expression was gone, replaced by something raw and broken. he looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days. the rain had soaked through his suit, his hair a mess, water dripping down his scarred face.
and in his hand, he held a single red rose. slightly crushed, like he had been gripping it too tightly.
you exhaled sharply, crossing your arms. “really? a flower? what, no dramatic love confession from the fire escape?”
a ghost of a smile flickered across his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “thought about it. but, y’know, my luck, i’d slip and break my ass before i even got to the good part.”
you huffed out a breath, somewhere between frustration and reluctant amusement.
then, silence. heavy. unspoken words pressing between you like a weight neither of you knew how to lift.
finally, wade sighed, shifting on his feet. “can i come in?”
you didn’t answer right away. you should say no. you should close the door, walk away, pretend this wasn’t breaking you all over again.
but you stepped aside.
wade hesitated, then slipped inside, his presence filling the space like he had never left.
in the background you could hear the song playing on the tv.
[if we'd go again
all the way from the start]
he looked around, his gaze lingering on the familiar corners of your apartment,the couch, the kitchen, the tiny details that had once made up your shared life.
then he turned back to you, exhaling slowly.
“i fucked up” he admitted, voice hoarse.
you crossed your arms tighter. “yeah. you did.”
he swallowed hard, nodding. “i thought i was doing the right thing. that if i took that job, if i got away, i’d be keeping you safe. because that’s what i do, right? ruin everything i touch?” he let out a bitter chuckle. “so i figured i’d beat you to the punch. push you away before i could hurt you worse.”
your throat tightened. “and how did that work out for you?”
his lips pressed into a thin line. “i lost you.”
the words hung between you, heavy and sharp.
you turned away, staring out the window, watching the raindrops race down the glass. “you didn’t even let me in, wade. you didn’t trust me enough to make that decision together.”
“i know.” his voice was barely above a whisper.
you closed your eyes. “and now? you think you can just show up, say sorry, and it’ll all be okay?”
“no,” he admitted. “i don’t expect that. i don’t expect you to forgive me. hell, i don’t even know if i deserve it. but i do know that i can’t keep living like this.”
he took a slow step closer.
“i can’t keep waking up in a bed that doesn’t smell like you. i can’t keep pretending that i don’t look for you in every goddamn crowd. i can’t keep going through the motions, cracking jokes, acting like i’m fine, when the truth is… i’m not.” his voice broke slightly. “because i still love you. i never stopped.”
your chest ached.
you wanted to be angry. you wanted to throw his words back in his face, tell him it wasn’t enough.
but part of you still loved him, too.
and that was the worst part.
you turned to face him, your eyes searching his. “what if i can’t trust you again, wade?”
he swallowed, stepping even closer, until he was right in front of you. his gloved fingers lifted, hovering near your cheek, hesitant, like he was afraid to touch you.
“then let me earn it,” he murmured. “no shortcuts. no quick fixes. i’ll fight for you. for us. as long as it takes.”
your breath hitched.
you wanted to believe him.
and when his fingers finally brushed against your cheek, rough and warm and so painfully familiar, you didn’t pull away.
instead, you leaned into his touch, just a little.
his breath shuddered. “tell me there’s a chance” he whispered.
you hesitated, heart pounding.
then, finally, you whispered, “there’s a chance.”
a broken, shaky exhale of relief left his lips. and when he leaned in, slow, careful, giving you every chance to stop him, you didn’t.
his lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, as if he was afraid this was a dream that would slip through his fingers.
but the second you kissed him back, he melted into you, wrapping his arms around you like a drowning man clinging to solid ground.
then, it wasn’t soft. it wasn’t hesitant. it was desperate, needy, like he was terrified that if he didn’t hold onto you now, he would lose you forever.
his hands came up to cup your face, fingers trembling against your skin. he kissed you like a man starved, like he had been dying for this, like you were oxygen and he had been suffocating without you.
you gasped against his lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pressing you back against the wall, his body flush against yours. heat pooled in your stomach as his hands slid down your sides, gripping you like he couldn’t bear to let go.
“i’m still loving you,” he whispered against your skin, his breath hot, reverent. “and i’ll keep proving it. every damn day.”
and as his lips claimed yours again, you let yourself believe him.
it wasn’t perfect
it wasn’t a promise,
but ur was a start.
and for now, it was enough.
a/n: let me know you liked it, and if you did, don't be scared to like, comment or reblog, it would really help me since this blog is new. let me know if you have any kind of request, not just for deadpool, it can be of any marvel character or more, i'm happy to write them <3
deadpool (wade wilson) x ftm!reader (female to male)
summary: In which Wade Wilson proves he’s more than just wisecracks and violence, he’s yours, completely.
based on this request by ✨anon: “Hello again! Thank you for answering my question about requests! I would like to request some Deadpool x ftm!reader if that's okay? Preferably some soft smut, praise kink for both reader and wade (because he def has one)”
i hope you like it, let me know if i missed something or if you wanted something different and i’ll fix it, luv u <3
warnings: mature content mdni (unprotected sex, oral m receiving)
word count: 2.0k
lowercase intended
you weren’t sure when, exactly, wade wilson had wormed his way under your skin. maybe it was the first time he made you laugh so hard you choked on your drink, or maybe it was the way he never looked at you like you were anything other than you.
not “different.” not something to figure out. not anything other than exactly who you were.
and for someone like wade, someone who had spent so much time being reduced to nothing more than scars and weapons, it meant something that he saw you and liked what he saw.
it hadn’t been easy.
not because of him, if anything, wade had been surprisingly cool about everything from the second you met. but opening up to someone, trusting them with all the parts of you that felt like jagged edges? that had taken time.
wade, though… wade made things easier. he never treated you like you were fragile, never made you feel like you had something to prove. when you told him your name, he used it without hesitation. when you mentioned you were trans, he barely blinked, just nodded and said, “cool, you want the rest of my chimichanga?”
and somehow, in between the wisecracks and the gratuitous violence, you had fallen for him.
hard.
tonight, you were in his safe house, sprawled across his couch, watching as he peeled off his mask.
his suit was still zipped up, but his expression was softer than usual, his usual cocky smirk giving way to something warmer.
“y’know,” he said, tossing the mask aside, “i was thinking about something earlier.”
“dangerous” you teased.
“true,” he admitted, leaning back on the couch, arm draped over the backrest behind you. “but hear me out, you’re kind of my favorite person.”
your heart did something stupid in your chest. you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “kind of?”
he smirked. “okay, fine. definitely. top-tier. s-tier boyfriend material. the best thing to ever happen to me since discovering taco trucks.”
“high praise” you murmured, but your fingers were already fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, heart hammering against your ribs.
“i mean it,” he said, voice dropping slightly. then, more hesitant. “can i kiss you?”
your breath hitched, but you nodded.
wade never did anything halfway.
his lips crashed against yours, rough and eager, but there was something desperate beneath it. like he had wanted this for a long time but had been waiting for you to be ready.
you sighed into his mouth, and that was all it took. his hands found your waist, tugging you closer, pulling you against him until you were practically in his lap.
“fuck,” he muttered, breaking the kiss just long enough to look at you. “you’re so fucking hot.”
you let out a breathless laugh.
his hands skimmed up under your shirt, not rushing, not pushing, just touching, fingers brushing against the scars on your chest like they were something sacred.
“this is perfect,” he murmured against your lips, fingers tracing along your skin, slow and reverent. “you’re perfect.”
heat curled in your stomach, a mix of something emotional and deeply physical.
“you tell me if you want me to stop” he murmured, voice quieter now.
your heart clenched.
this, this was why you loved him.
not just the teasing, the flirting, the wisecracks. but because underneath it all, wade cared.
“i’ll tell you” you promised.
his lips curved into something softer before he kissed you again, slower this time, like he wanted to memorize the way you felt.
his hands moved lower, gripping your hips, his touch firm but careful.
“you’re so fucking good,” he murmured, voice rough, dragging his lips down the line of your jaw. “so good for me.”
the praise sent a full-body shiver down your spine, heat pooling in your stomach.
his breath was warm against your throat, fingers skimming lower, dipping just beneath your waistband.
“can i keep going?” he murmured, voice barely more than a breath.
“please” you exhaled.
his smirk returned, dark and pleased, before he shifted, pressing you back against the couch.
“you’re gonna be so good for me” he murmured against your skin, voice full of heat and promise.
and then he showed you just how much he meant it.
wade kissed back hungrily, a low groan rumbling in his throat as his tongue tangled with yours. His hands slid under your shirt, and he took it off. he looked at you, his fingertips grazing the smooth skin of your flat chest. he broke the kiss, panting slightly, a wicked gleam in his eye. “you are beautiful”
you kissed him again and he kissed you back. hungrily, a low groan rumbling in his throat as his tongue tangled with yours. his hands slid under your shirt, and he took it off. he looked at you, his fingertips grazing the smooth skin of your flat chest. he broke the kiss, panting slightly, a wicked gleam in his eye. “you are beautiful”
“you are” you said reaching for the zip of his deadpool suit. he let out a low chuckle at your compliment, you could tell he liked it. then he gasped as your fingers found the zip of his suit. "easy there...” his breath caught in his throat as the tight black and red fabric peeled away, revealing his muscular scarred chest. "fuck…”
you pulled him closer and kissed him again, but it was more passionate this time. his arms wrapped around you tightly as the kiss deepened, his heart pounding in his chest. he could feel yours beating against his own, your bare chest pressed against his. he moaned into the kiss, his hands roaming over your back, tracing the lines of your muscles. “oh fuck baby..”
he kissed you more and more passionately, your teeth clicking together in your haste. his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, tugging at them urgently. he broke the kiss to pull off his own bottoms, kicking them aside carelessly. “need you so fucking bad...”
“i need you too” you moaned. he wrapped his legs around yours, pulling you closer until you were entangled, his body pressed against yours. he nuzzled his face into your neck, kissing and biting gently. "you're gonna make me lose it before we even start..."
“yeah?” you asked him teasingly.
he growled possessively, his hands roaming over your backside possessively. he looked up at you, his eyes filled with lust and frustration. "you're trying to make me snap, aren't you?" he accused, his fingers digging into your skin.
“maybe i am” you said kissing his neck. the trail of kisses goes down and down, his chest, his stomach and finally, just above his boxers. you take them down
he sucked in a sharp breath as you trailed kisses down his body, his abs tensing under your touch. When you reached the waistband of his boxers, he lifted his hips to help you slide them off. Hehe looked down at you, eyes dark with desire. "fucking hell..."
you looked right into his eyes as you started stroking his cock. he watched you intently as you wrapped your fingers around him, his breathing growing heavier and heavier. he bit his lower lip to keep from moaning too loudly, his hips bucking slightly under your touch. his eyes flicked down to where your hand was, then back up to your eyes.
after teasing him a little bit more, you leaned on him, you took his cock into your mouth and started sucking. he threw his head back with a deep, guttural moan, his hips lifting slightly to push himself deeper into your mouth. your lips felt like heaven, your tongue like heaven sent. he laced his fingers through your hair, his grip tightening as you sucked harder, taking him deeper. "jesus..." he let out a series of ragged breaths, his body tensing as you continued to pleasure him. he looked down at you, his eyes filled with raw desire and admiration. "baby... if you keep doing that, i'm not gonna last..." he warned, his voice strained with (maximum) effort. (a/n: sorry i had to)
“you’re such a good boy, i think you can take two orgasms” you teased and the went back on sucking his cock, harder this time.
he let out a choked groan, his hips bucking wildly as you took him deeper and harder. his fingers tightened in your hair, not to guide you but because he was losing control. he panted heavily, trying to hold back the impending orgasm. "fuck... fuck... you're gonna kill me..."
with a loud, muffled shout, he came undone, his entire body shaking as he spilled into your mouth, you swallowed. he was right on the edge of consciousness, his vision blurring. when you kept sucking, he whimpered, his spent body sensitive and overstimulated. "baby... please..."
“fuck me wade” you whispered into his ear. his eyes snapped open at your words, a hunger in them that made your heart race. he flipped you over onto your back in an instant, settling between your legs. he looked at you with a smirk, his hard cock pressing against your core. "with pleasure, sweetheart."
he leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. he slowly pushed himself inside you, giving you time to adjust to his size. once he was fully sheathed, he began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, filling you completely. "you feel so damn good..."
“oh fuck, you’re so good” you moaned. he grinned against your lips, his hips moving faster and harder. he knew exactly how to hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. he broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he panted. "you like that? you like when i fuck you deep and slow?"
you nodded desperately, he made you feel like no one ever made you feel, he wanted you exactly like you were and made it clear in every way possible.
he growled possessively, his fingers digging into your hips as he increased his pace. he loved how open and honest you were with him, how you never held back. it made him want to mark you, to claim you as his own. "say my name when i make you come..."
his hands roamed up your sides, his touch gentle yet firm. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer as he thrust deeper. he nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent. "you're so close, aren't you? say it..."
“fuck yeah i’m so close wade” you moaned.
he grinned, his thrusts becoming more urgent. he could feel your body tensing around him, your breaths coming in short gasps. he knew you were right on the edge. "that's it, baby. cum for me"
the walls of your front hole tightened around his cock, as a warning for him that you were about to cum, and finally you did, crying out his name over and over again.
a smug smile crossed his face as he felt your orgasm hit, your inner walls squeezing him perfectly. he continued to thrust slowly through your waves of pleasure. "fuck yeah... that's such a good boy..." he kissed you deeply, swallowing your cries.
he broke the kiss and looked down at you with a soft expression. he was close to the edge himself, your tight heat and the sight of you in ecstasy pushing him towards his own release. "i'm gonna cum, baby..."
wade finally let go. with a low grunt, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself. he kissed you messily through his orgasm, muffling his moan against your lips.
he chuckled softly, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to catch his breath. he gently pulled out of you, his softened cock slipping free with a wet sound. "fuck, that was amazing..." he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms and holding you close.
“it really was”
he grinned, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. he could feel your heartbeat slowly returning to normal, matching his own. "you know, i've had some crazy sex in my life, but that... that was something else." he said, running a hand through your hair.
a/n: let me know you liked it, and if you did, don’t be scared to like, comment or reblog, it would really help me since this blog is new. let me know if you have any kind of request, not just for deadpool, it can be of any marvel character or more, i’m happy to write them <3
Hello again! Thank you for answering my question about requests! I would like to request some Deadpool x ftm!reader if that's okay? Preferably some soft smut, praise kink for both reader and wade (because he def has one)
If you do anons, may I be ✨️ anon?
of course! i’ll do it as soon as possible. i didn’t know what ftm means so i made some research, can you give me more details on him? like if he already had the surgery/operation and things like that so i can write it better. thank you for your request <3
summary: in which wade wilson manages to charm you into a late-night taco run, one that ends with you in his lap and his lips proving that, for once, he’s willing to shut up… but only if it means kissing you.
you had always known wade wilson was trouble. not the kind that set off alarms in your head or made you question your life choices, no, he was the kind of trouble that made your stomach flip and your heart race for all the right reasons. he was reckless, loud, and had a mouth that never quit, but somehow, that mouth had wormed its way under your skin.
tonight, like most nights, you found yourself willingly indulging in his chaos.
the bar was dimly lit, filled with the scent of beer, sweat, and bad decisions. you leaned against the counter, sipping your drink as you watched wade toy with a group of overconfident frat boys. he was playing darts, but you knew the real game was the one he was playing with them. hustling them effortlessly, drawing them in with that cocky smirk and easy charm before completely dismantling their egos.
it was a beautiful thing to watch.
he landed another bullseye, feigning surprise as the guys groaned in frustration.
“wow, again? i swear, i must have been a professional dart player in a past life” he mused, turning to wink at you. “what do you think, sweetheart? was i some sort of pub champion in 1876? or maybe a smooth-talking conman who seduced wealthy widows out of their fortunes?”
you smirked. “i’m leaning toward conman. you do have that whole charming-but-shouldn’t-be-trusted vibe.”
he clutched his chest dramatically. “ouch. right to the heart. i’m wounded.”
“you’ll live.”
“only if you promise to nurse me back to health.” he sauntered over to you, grabbing two beers off the bar and handing you one. “come on, admit it. you like that i’m a little bit of a disaster.”
you took a slow sip, holding his gaze. “it is entertaining watching you talk your way into, and out of, trouble.”
“you know what else is entertaining?” he leaned in, voice dropping just slightly. “the way you’ve been staring at my lips for the past thirty seconds.”
you huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “you are so full of yourself.”
he smirked, lifting his own bottle to his lips. “you got me there.”
the warmth in his gaze lingered a second too long, and for a moment, the rest of the bar faded into the background. it was always like this with wade: flirting, teasing, toeing the line between something casual and something much more dangerous. you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol buzzing through your veins or just him, but tonight, that line felt thinner than ever.
“you know” he continued, setting his beer down, “i was thinking. maybe after i finish humiliating these guys, you and i could engage in some friendly, totally platonic, not at all romantic activities.”
you arched a brow. “oh yeah? like what?”
“like…” wade pretended to think. “breaking into an abandoned amusement park? reenacting our favorite fight scenes from movies? or, hear me out, seeing who can eat more tacos before puking.”
you chuckled, shaking your head. “you’re ridiculous.”
“and yet, you’re still here” he pointed out, leaning closer.
you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, one of the frat guys wade had been hustling stormed over, looking less than pleased.
before you could respond, one of the frat guys, clearly pissed off from losing, stormed over. he shoved wade’s shoulder, a mistake, really.
“you’re cheating” the guy snapped.
wade barely even blinked. he just tilted his head, giving him that lazy, amused look that meant he was seconds away from doing something stupid.
“buddy, i don’t cheat” he said easily. “i just happen to be naturally talented at everything.”
the guy wasn’t buying it. he grabbed a fistful of wade’s shirt, and before you could even process what was happening, wade had him in a headlock. his usual playful smirk flickered into something darker, something that sent a little thrill down your spine.
“see, i’d love to teach you some manners” wade murmured, “but my lovely not-yet-girlfriend here doesn’t like it when i get blood on my clothes.”
you sighed. “i really don’t.”
he let the guy go with a pat on the head, and the group quickly scattered, grumbling under their breath.
wade turned back to you with a triumphant grin. “so… tacos?”
you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips betrayed you. “fine. but if you puke in my car, i swear-”
“you’ll punish me?” he waggled his eyebrows. “kinky”
you scoffed, shoving him lightly as you both headed for the door.
the drive to the taco stand was typical wade: meaning, it was filled with absolute nonsense.
“hear me out” he said as you pulled into the parking lot, “what if we started a fight club for people who talk during movies? we could call it ‘shut the hell up or throw hands’”
“i think you just want an excuse to punch people.”
“i always want an excuse to punch people” he admitted. “but i’d make an exception for you.”
“oh? i’m special?”
he turned to you, smirking. “very.”
your stomach did that stupid little flip thing again, but you ignored it, focusing instead on the tacos.
twenty minutes later, wade was leaning back in the driver’s seat of his car, groaning dramatically.
“okay” he admitted, rubbing his stomach, “i may have slightly overestimated my ability to eat twelve tacos in one sitting.”
you smirked. “i warned you.”
“yeah, yeah.” he turned his head to look at you, expression softer now. “you know… i wasn’t kidding earlier.”
you raised a brow. “about what?”
“about liking you.”
your breath hitched, but you covered it with a teasing smile. “i figured. you’re not exactly subtle.”
he exhaled a laugh, but there was something else in his eyes now, something serious.
“can i do something really stupid?” he asked, voice lower now.
you swallowed. “depends on the kind of stupid.”
instead of answering, he reached over, fingers brushing against your jaw as he tilted your face toward him. he hesitated for just a second, just long enough for you to make the choice yourself.
you closed the distance.
the second your lips met, it was like something snapped.
wade kissed you like he’d been waiting for this forever, like he needed it. his hands found your waist, fingers digging in as he pulled you closer. the taste of beer and hot sauce lingered on his lips, but you didn’t care, not when he was kissing you like he wanted to memorize every inch of your mouth.
you barely registered the shift as he pulled you into his lap, hands sliding up your thighs, gripping you like he never wanted to let go. you let out a small gasp as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that had your whole body burning.
his hands found their way into your hair, tilting your head for better access as he kissed you like a man starved, intense, passionate, and yet somehow still playful. the way he bit your bottom lip gently made your heart race dangerously fast. "fuck..."
you decided to make a dangerous move, you started grinding against him slowly and playfully, just to see his reaction
a shudder ran through wade's body as you ground against him teasingly. his grip tightened on your thighs, fingers digging in pleasurably as he groaned low in his throat. "careful, sweetheart... keep moving like that and i might not be able to control myself."
“why would i want you to control yourself” you teased him with a playful smirk.
his eyes darkened, the playful glint replaced with a hungry intensity. He nipped at your neck, sucking gently as he whispered against your skin. "then keep going... see how long i can last before i fuck you senseless in this car seat."
you took that as a challenge. you started grinding against him more urgently, rolling you hips against his and letting out little moans and whimpers
“jesus christ..." his breathing became heavier, ragged even as he fought the urge to just tear your clothes off right there. one hand moved up to cup your face while the other slid down to grab your ass, pulling you harder against him. "either you stop that..."
“or what? you really want me to stop?”
"or i'm ripping your dress off and putting you on my lap properly" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. he looked up at you with those intense dark eyes, daring you to keep pushing his buttons.
“well i’ll take that as a promise” you whispered in his ear, before biting and sucking his neck gently.
his body tightened, his control slowly slipping. "goddamn it..." he hissed as you sucked on his neck. his hands spread your thighs wider so you could grind against him better. he was already painfully hard, his jeans suddenly feeling too tight. "you know you're killing me, right?"
“let me fix that” you said. you sat straddling his thighs and started undoing his jeans.
his breath hitched as your hands worked at his jeans, that playful smirk fading to pure desire. "fuck..." he murmured, helping you push his jeans and boxers down just enough, one hand sliding up your thigh while the other gripped your waist.
you took his cock in you hand and started working his shaft, slowly and teasingly.
"oh fuck, sweetheart..." his head fell back against the seat, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you touched him. his hips moved in small thrusts, fucking into your hand. "you're so fucking good at that..." he praised, his fingers digging into your hip. his intense dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with lust and a hint of challenge. he could see you were enjoying torturing him like this, the slow teasing touches driving him mad. "eyes on me..." he ordered, his voice hoarse.
you looked into his eyes for a few seconds before closing the distance and kissing him again. he deepened the kiss instantly, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer as his hips bucked into your hand. he kissed you fiercely, hungrily, as if he could pull you closer through the kiss alone.
you moved away, just to take off your dress. his eyes widened slightly looking at you, his breath hitching at the sight of you in just your bra and panties. "holy shit..." he murmured, his voice thick with desire. his hands immediately went to your waist, pulling you back against him.
you started to grind against him again. he kissed you. he groaned into the kiss, his hands roaming your body, one cupping your breast while the other gripped your ass, pulling you harder against his cock. he could feel the heat through your panties, and it was driving him wild. "fucking hell..."
“i need you wade” you whispered into his ear.
his breath hitched at your whispered words, his heart pounding in his chest. he pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes blazing with desire. "you want my dick, sweetheart?" he growled, his hand slipping into your panties to feel just how wet you were.
you nodded eagerly. he cursed under his breath as his fingers slid through your slick folds, confirming exactly how badly you needed him. in one swift motion, he ripped your panties off, tossing them aside without a care. "fuck, you're soaked..." he groaned, lining himself up with your entrance.
“it’s your fault” you whispered playfully before sitting down on it, slowly taking his dick inside of you.
"christ..." his head fell back against the seat, a deep groan tearing from his throat as you slowly sank down onto him. his hands tightened on your hips, nails digging in slightly. "you feel fucking amazing..." he started guiding your movements, lifting his hips to meet each slow descent.
you were riding him, your arms on his broad shoulders to help yourself bounce, it felt too good. his dark eyes were locked onto yours, filled with pure lust as he watched you bounce on top of him. his hands roamed your body, squeezing your breasts, running down your sides, gripping your thighs to pull you down harder onto him. "damn it..."
“oh fuck” you cried out as soon as he did that, he helped you move faster and harder. his dick hitting that one spot instead of you
a wicked grin spread across his face as he felt your cries of pleasure surround him, knowing exactly what he was doing to you. his grip tightened, slamming you down onto him with increasing urgency, hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. "that's it, sweetheart."
his breath came in short gasps as your pussy tightened around him, the feeling driving him absolutely wild. he leaned forward, capturing one of your hardened nipples in his mouth and sucking hard, his fingers digging into your flesh. "you're gonna make me come..."
those words and his actions made you closer to your orgasm. now you were crying out his name and moaning loudly.
"that's right, scream my fucking name..." he shifted his angle slightly, hitting that magical spot even harder and faster. one hand moved between your legs, rubbing your clit in tight circles as he fucked you. "come for me, baby"
and that’s when you came.“fuck yes wade!” you moaned during your release. he growled at your moans, watching your face contort in pleasure as your pussy convulsed around his length. and you kept going, determined to make him cum. he gripped your hips hard, driving up into you erratically as you came undone. "holy shit..." he panted. he was panting heavily now, his face contorted in pure ecstasy as you continued to bounce on him, taking him deeper than ever before. his hands roamed your body possessively, squeezing, kneading, pulling you closer as he chased his release. "damn it..."
his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched and his entire body tensed as he finally let go. with a deep, guttural groan, he came inside you, his cum filling you completely. "fuck...!" he then collapsed back onto the seat, pulling you down onto his chest.
“holy shit” he muttered, voice rough.
you exhaled a laugh. “yeah.”
his fingers traced lazy circles on your hip as he grinned up at you. “so… does this mean i’m officially your totally platonic, not-at-all romantic taco buddy?”
you rolled your eyes, but your fingers were already threading into his hair again, tugging slightly just to hear the little groan he let out.
“shut up” you whispered, “and kiss me again.”
and he did.
a/n: let me know you liked it, and if you did, don’t be scared to like, comment or reblog, it would really help me since this blog is new. let me know if you have any kind of request, not just for deadpool, it can be of any marvel character or more, i’m happy to write them <3
↳ in which the honda odyssey fucks hard, too bad deadpool does too
replicated memories (fluff, comfort)
↳ in which deadpool is hired to kill you, only to realize you two were once best friends.
sixpounder (smut)
↳ in which deadpool fucks up your mission.
still loving you (fluff)
↳ in which wade returns, seeking forgiveness, and despite your doubts, you let him in.
red & black & yours (ftm reader, smut)
↳ in which wade wilson proves he’s more than just wisecracks and violence, he’s yours, completely.
tacos and troubles (smut)
↳ in which wade wilson manages to charm you into a late-night taco run, one that ends with you in his lap and his lips proving that, for once, he’s willing to shut up… but only if it means kissing you.
a mercenary’s heart (smut)
↳ in which a simple mission goes sideways when you cross paths with wade wilson. between gunfights and a high-stakes chase for valuable intel, the tension between you finally snaps, leading to a moment neither of you can take back.
unfinished business (smut)
↳ in which you find your ex eating nachos on your couch in the middle of the night.
can you feel it? (smut)
↳ in which you and deadpool are tied together, and you can feel something hard against your ass.
pietro maximoff
play your part (smut)
↳ in which you and pietro maximoff go undercover as a married couple, but when the mission turns chaotic, tension ignites, and in the heat of escape, neither of you can resist what’s been building all night.
bucky barnes (winter soldier)
COMING SOON
a/n: i want to thank anyone who’s reading, liking and reblogging my work, i really appreciate it. if you have any requests feel free to ask, and i’ll write them, they can be about any marvel character <3
x-men origins: wolverine timeline | wade wilson x reader
summary: in which a simple mission goes sideways when you cross paths with wade wilson. between gunfights and a high-stakes chase for valuable intel, the tension between you finally snaps, leading to a moment neither of you can take back.
warings: mature content mdni (unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, kinda public sex), strong language and mentions of assassinations.
word count: 2.3k
lowercase intended
the mission was supposed to be solo.
you’ve spent years working alone, carving out a reputation as one of the best mercenaries in the game. you don’t need backup. you don’t need distractions. you definitely don’t need wade wilson.
and yet, as you creep through the jungle toward your target’s fortress, his voice slithers into your earpiece like a bad habit.
“nice night for a little breaking and entering, huh?”
you freeze mid-step, fingers twitching toward your weapon. no. not him.
“tell me this is a joke” you whisper sharply, flattening against the rough bark of a tree.
“oh, sweetheart, if i were joking, you’d be laughing right now.” his voice is thick with amusement, the smirk practically audible.
you inhale slowly, willing yourself to stay calm. you haven’t seen wade since the last job the one that almost got you killed because he couldn’t stop showing off. you swore if you ever crossed paths again, you’d put a bullet between his eyes.
and yet, here he is. smug. infuriating. and, worst of all, standing just a few feet away, peering at you through the darkness. his tactical gear clings to him in all the right places, twin katanas strapped to his back. his lips curl into a slow grin when he catches you staring.
“miss me?”
“get in my way, wilson, and you won’t live long enough to find out.”
“oof. ice cold. i love it.”
you don’t have time for this. the fortress is just ahead, guards patrolling the perimeter. you focus on the mission, slipping through the shadows, but wade follows effortlessly, staying just close enough to remind you he’s there.
then, movement. a patrol rounding the corner. too close. you start to duck back, but wade moved faster.
before you can react, his hand grabs your wrist, spinning you and pinning you hard against the stone wall. his body presses flush against yours, concealing you both in the shadows. the sudden contact knocks the breath from your lungs.
he’s warm. solid. every inch of him pressed against you in ways that should not make your stomach tighten.
“shh” he murmurs, his lips right near your ear.
your pulse pounds as the guards pass, oblivious. wade doesn’t move. his breath ghosts over your skin, the heat between your bodies suffocating in the thick jungle air.
you shift slightly, big mistake. his grip tightens, just enough to make you aware of every single place he’s touching you. his hands, strong, rough, linger against your waist. his chest rises and falls against yours, slow and controlled, while your own breath feels sharp and uneven.
“relax, sweetheart” he whispers. “unless you like being this close to me.”
your fingers twitch with the urge to punch him. or pull him closer. you’re not sure which.
the guards are gone. no more reason to stay like this. so why hasn’t he moved?
your eyes flick up to his. his usual cocky grin is still there, but beneath it, something else. something darker. his pupils are blown wide, gaze flickering to your lips before snapping back up.
oh.
no. no, no, no. you are not about to make this mistake.
you shove him back, hard. he barely stumbles, but his grin widens.
“gotta say, i’m getting mixed signals here.”
“the only signal you need is me walking away.”
and you do. or, at least, you try. but the tension doesn’t fade. it follows you. through the fortress, through the mission, through every damn moment that wade is too close, too aware of you.
and when everything goes to hell, when an explosion tears through the compound and you find yourself backed into a corner, outnumbered, he’s right there. cutting through enemies like a man possessed, making sure none of them get to you.
you don’t have time to question it. you fight side by side, bodies moving in sync, until the last guard drops. silence settles, thick and heavy. your hands are shaking from the adrenaline.
wade turns to you, face unreadable. “you good?”
you nod. too fast.
he steps closer, eyes scanning you like he’s memorizing every piece of you. his usual cocky bravado is gone, something raw lingering in its place.
and maybe it’s the adrenaline. maybe it’s the fact that you almost died. but suddenly, you can’t breathe.
“y’know… you don’t have to keep pretending you hate me.”
your heart slams against your ribs. he’s too damn close. too damn right.
you should walk away.
but instead, you grab his collar and yank him down into a fierce, desperate kiss.
wade freezes, only for a second. then he reacts.
his hands grip your waist, pulling you against him, his mouth claiming yours with a heat that makes your knees weak. it’s messy, frantic, years of tension snapping all at once. you taste blood and gunpowder, feel the sharp edges of him pressing into you like he’s trying to burn the moment into his skin.
he makes a low sound in his throat, almost like a growl, as he backs you against the nearest wall. his hands tighten, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. you fist your hands in his gear, pulling him closer, because this, this is dangerous, reckless, stupid and… you don’t care.
then, he slows.
the raw urgency melts into something deeper. his lips brush against yours, softer this time, like he’s memorizing the feel of you. one of his hands moves up, fingers trailing along your jaw, tilting your chin slightly so he can kiss you again, slower, deliberate. like he means it.
it sends a shiver down your spine.
his forehead rests against yours for a moment, breath warm, hands lingering at your waist. neither of you move.
“that’s for saving my ass back there” you murmur, voice steadier than you feel.
for once, wade is silent. his grip lingers, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make you feel him.
then, finally, a slow, wicked grin.
“well, if that’s my reward, i think i’ll save that perfect ass more often.”
you roll your eyes, but you don’t push him away this time. not completely, in fact, you pull him closer for another kiss. your arms are wrapped around his neck, pulling gently his short hair, your body is completely pressed against his, while his hands roam lower, grabbing your ass and squeezing it possessively.
he lets out a low growl of approval, his fingers digging into your skin slightly as he pulls you even tighter against him. the kiss becomes more intense, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that's hard to ignore. he breaks the kiss only to trail soft, teasing bites down your neck. a small moan escapes your lips, while thinking you should be doing anything but this right now, even though it felt so wrong, it still felt so right… you didn’t want to stop.
“damn” he mutters softly, one hand sliding down to squeeze your ass again while the other tangles in your hair, you angles your head for another deep kiss. he's hard as a rock, it's obvious through his pants and you noticed. his body presses you against the nearby wall, making you gasp.
that is enough to bring you back to reality. what were you doing? this place wasn’t safe. you were literally pressed against a wall outside a fortress hidden within the rainforest. there could still be enemies.
“what's wrong?” he murmurs against your mouth, noticing your sudden shift in mood. his hips roll against yours instinctively, despite the fact that he knows you're probably right to stop but he doesn't want to stop. he wants to keep going until you make him stop.
you let out a little moan. you didn’t want him to stop either “nothing, just… are we sure this place is safe now?”
he lets out a soft chuckle, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to catch his breath. “baby, we're in the middle of the jungle surrounded by an entire army of people we just killed, and i just had my hands all over your ass. nothing about this is safe.” he pauses, giving you a playful smirk.
“fuck off” you chuckle rolling your eyes at him.
he laughs, a genuine sound that echoes through the jungle. “alright, alright” he says, but he doesn't move away from you. instead, he keeps you pressed against the wall, his body still hard against yours. "but seriously, do you really want me to stop?" he continues, his voice dropping to a more serious tone.
“absolutely fucking not, all this situation just makes all of this hotter” you whisper in his ear, before starting to leave a trail of small bites and wet kisses along his jawline and neck.
“jesus christ, woman…” he mutters, tilting his head to give you better access. one hand slides up to tangle in your hair while the other moves to support your thigh, pulling it up around his waist. “you're either gonna get us both killed or make me come in my pants”
“i like the second option better” you smirk before pulling his face closer to yours to kiss him again.
“i bet you do” he groans into the kiss, his body pressing even harder against yours. “you're fucking killing me” he mutters, his hands gripping your hips tightly. he lifts you slightly, allowing you to wrap both legs around his waist. the change in position allows him to grind against you more intensely.
“fuck” you moan out loud, before taking off your tight t-shirt. his eyes darken with lust as he takes in your exposed torso. “goddamn” he growls, his hand immediately moving to cup your breasts over your bra. he kisses you deeply, his hips grinding against you in a rhythm that leaves no doubt about what he wants. you grind back against him, you wanted more.
he breaks the kiss to look at you, his breathing heavy. “iI'm gonna fuck you right here against this wall if you keep moving like that” he warns, his voice low and rough. his hands move to unhook your bra with expert ease, tossing it aside without a care.
“is that a threat or a promise?” you flirt, grinning again against him like she did before. he grins back, his fingers digging into your hips possessively. “it’s a fucking promise” he replies darkly, capturing your mouth again. he can feel your breasts pressing against his chest, your legs tightening around his waist. he's painfully hard, and your little grinds aren't helping his self-control, it starts to snap, and he puts you down, reaches to unbutton your pants. “tell me to stop now, 'cause once i start…” his fingers slip inside your panties, stroking you.
“no keep going” you almost beg.
“best thing i've heard all fucking day” he grunts, finally freeing his aching cock from his pants. you turn around bending over the wall. he positions himself at your entrance, and he pushes into you slowly, this was making you more and more desperate.
“ah hell, you're so fucking tight” he groans, gripping your hips tightly as he starts to move inside you slowly and deeply. he reaches around to play with your clit, hoping to hear more of those beautiful whimpers. “is this what you want?”
“yeah!” she moans loudly, he was making her feel so good.
“fuck yeah it is” he growls, picking up the pace. his hips slam against yours, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes through the jungle, mixed with your moans and his grunts. he leans over you, biting your shoulder gently.
“shit” he hisses, your movement nearly sending him over the edge. he loves how your body meets his, how you push back whenever he thrusts forward. he adjusts his angle slightly, hitting a spot deep inside you that makes your eyes roll back. “fucking hell, you feel amazing”
all of this was too much for you, with every thrust he hit that sweet spot inside of you, it was making you lose your mind, you were a moaning mess.
“you're so close, aren't you?” he pants, feeling your walls clench around him. he moves a hand to cover your mouth, muffling your loud moans. “come on, baby. let go for me. i wanna feel you cum”
his words pushed you over the edge. with a loud moan, muffled by his hand you cum. he feels your climax ripple around his cock, groaning loudly as your orgasm triggers his own. with one final deep thrust, he buries himself inside you, coming hard. his grip on your hips tightens, fingers digging into your skin as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through him. “holy fuck”.
he pulls out slowly, making you whimper again. he smirks. “too sensitive?” you nod. he watches your body carefully. your breasts rise and fall quickly as you try to catch your breath. your inner thighs are wet, and your hair is disheveled. “damn, you're beautiful like this.”
“thank you” you turn around to look at him, you were literally mesmerized, he was so gorgeous and hot you could stare at him for hours.
he leans in and captures your lips again, kissing you deeply before pulling back and grinning mischievously. “so, when can we do that again?” his hand reaches out to play with a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger. “i'm thinking... soon.”
“how about we go back to my hotel room? maybe i can offer you a glass of something” you flirt, knowing damn well that the two of you won't even waste time drinking as soon as you get there.
“oh, i like the way you think” he chuckles and gives your ass a playful smack before hoisting you over his shoulder and starting to carry you back towards the jeep.
a/n: let me know you liked it, and if you did, don’t be scared to like, comment or reblog, it would really help me since this blog is new. let me know if you have any kind of request, not just for deadpool, it can be of any marvel character or more, i’m happy to write them <3
Hello! I really enjoy your writing, I just have a question. Do you take requests? If so, what are your rules/boundaries and what type of readers are you comfortable with writing?
hi, thank you so much, this means a lot to me! yes, i’m taking requests! just send me a scenario or a backstory and i’ll write it :)
after years of no contact, the last thing you expected to find in your apartment was deadpool, casually sprawled on your couch, shoveling nachos into his mouth like he owned the place.
your brain took a second to catch up. the smell of melted cheese and hot sauce filled the air, mixing with the sheer audacity of the situation.
“what the… wade?!” you shouted, dropping your keys.
deadpool turned his masked head toward you mid-bite, cheese stretching between his mask and the nacho like a bad rom-com moment. “oh, hey, babe, wait, i mean, ex-babe. yikes, that’s awkward. how do people usually greet their long-lost, emotionally estranged exes?” he gestured wildly with his nachos. “’sup? how’s life? still mad at me? You look great, by the way.”
you blinked, still processing. “why the hell are you in my apartment?”
he gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “wow. no ‘i missed you, wade!’ or ‘oh my God, it’s been years, wade! let’s hug it out, wade!’ just straight to the hostility. some things never change.” he shoveled another nacho into his mouth. “anyway, i got bored.”
“you broke into my house because you were bored?”
“well, technically, it was a break-in and a break-down, because i had some deep emotional realizations while waiting for you.” he patted the spot next to him. “come. sit. let’s talk. or fight. or fuck. or all of them. i’m flexible.”
you folded your arms. “give me one good reason i shouldn’t throw you out right now.”
he held up a finger, pausing for dramatic effect. “i brought extra nachos?”
you scowled.
he sighed, setting the nachos down. “fine, fine. if you must know, i was in the neighborhood, saw your window all dark and lonely, and thought, hey, i wonder if (y/n) still wants to stab me after all this time!”
he leaned forward slightly, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “do you?”
for the first time since walking in, you actually looked at him. same ridiculous red suit, same obnoxious energy, but there was something different underneath it. something hesitant. maybe even regretful.
after all this time, why was he even here?
that was the real question. and one you weren’t sure you wanted the answer to.
“you hurt me. wade”
your jaw clenched. “you hurt me, remember?”
that shut him up. for half a second, anyway. he lowered the nacho, tilting his head. “so… we’re still mad about that, huh?”
your glare could’ve melted his mask off. “you mean the part where i was just your second choice? where you said you loved me, but we both knew i was just filling the space vanessa left behind?”
he didn’t answer immediately. and that was worse than a joke. worse than deflection. it was confirmation.
your chest tightened, but you refused to let him see it. “you never really wanted me, wade. so why the hell are you here now?”
deadpool was quiet. no quips, no dumb jokes. nust that annoying, unreadable tilt of his head.
then, barely above a whisper “she’s gone.”
you flinched, not expecting that. “…what?”
he shrugged, voice too light, too forced. “vanessa. gone. forever. she left me again, and the fault is mine this time. she’s dating other guys now. a whole tragic movie subplot that ended with me alone and, shocker, i started thinking about you.”
you swallowed. Hard. “oh wow, so now that she doesn’t want you anymore, again, you remembered that i exist! wow that’s so kind of you” you said sarcastically. “and what? you just assumed i’d still be here, waiting for you to come crawling back?”
he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “i don’t know why i came. i just… i ended up here. guess I was hoping you’d still hate me, because that’d mean you still felt something.”
silence hung between you, thick and suffocating.
after a long moment, he picked up a nacho, twirling it between his fingers. “i get it. i was a massive dick. probably still am.” a dry chuckle. “i let you believe you were enough for me when I was still stuck in the past. and that’s the worst thing I’ve ever done to someone.”
you scoffed. “you’ve literally killed people.”
“yeah, but they deserved it.” he glanced up at you. “you didn’t.”
for the first time since stepping into your own apartment, you felt off-balance. your eyes softened. wade wasn’t supposed to apologize. he wasn’t supposed to admit things.
he wasn’t supposed to still feel like a wound you never quite let heal.
“no, i didn’t…” you let out a slow breath. “so what now?”
deadpool tapped his chin. “well, i was hoping you’d say, ‘wow, wade, i’m so overwhelmed by your honesty that I must forgive you immediately, now come eat these nachos with me and let’s make out dramatically while a romantic soundtrack plays in the background.’”
and that’s when you realized that he didn’t understand a thing of how much he hurt you. his apologies didn’t mean a thing.
you stared. “get out.”
“aw, c’mon, at least think about it-”
“out, wade.”
he sighed, pushing himself off the couch. “fine. but just so you know, these nachos are your nachos, so technically, i was eating my feelings with you in spirit before you got home.”
you crossed your arms, watching as he moved toward the window. he climbed onto the ledge but hesitated.
one last glance. one last stupid, hopeful moment.
“you could hate me forever” he murmured, voice uncharacteristically soft. “or… maybe someday, we could be something else.”
your throat tightened. “i don’t owe you anything.”
he nodded. “i know.” a beat. “but i’ll probably still be back.”
and with that, he was gone.
leaving nothing but a half-eaten plate of nachos and a mess you weren’t sure you’d ever really cleaned up.
it was nearly 3 am when you woke up to the faint sound of rustling in your kitchen.
at first, you thought you were dreaming. or maybe you’d finally lost your mind. because there was no way wade had the sheer audacity to-
clatter.
oh, he absolutely did.
you bolted upright, grabbing the nearest weapon (which happened to be a lamp), and stormed into the kitchen, only to find deadpool, standing in front of your open fridge, casually eating your leftover takeout.
in your house. again.
he turned, holding up a carton of noodles. “so, funny story, i was on my way to not bother you, but then i got hungry and remembered, ‘oh yeah! my totally-not-still-mad-at-me ex has great food.’” he shoved a bite into his mouth. “so i figured, why not kill two birds with one-“
the lamp hit him right in the face.
“ow! jeez! okay, rude!” he whined, clutching his head. “i’m technically concussed, so that was a crime against the disabled!”
you glared, breathing hard. “why. the hell. are you in my house again?”
he held up a finger as if making a grand point. “correction: I am not in your house again. I am in your kitchen this time. whole different vibe.”
you stepped forward, shoving him back against the counter. “you’re unbelievable.”
he hummed, tilting his head. “i mean, you used to find me pretty believable when you were screaming my-”
you grabbed a knife. immediately.
he put his hands up. “whoa—okay! jeez, we’re already at the murder stage? what happened to playful banter? witty back-and-forth? sexual tension?”
“there is no sexual tension” you snapped.
deadpool tsked. “ah, so you feel it too.”
you wanted to strangle him. and maybe kiss him. and then strangle him again.
instead, you backed up, running a hand down your face. “you shouldn’t be here, wade.”
“i know” he admitted, surprisingly easy. “but that hasn’t really stopped me before, has it?”
you let out a frustrated laugh. “no, it hasn’t, because you don’t respect boundaries, or personal space, or the fact that i don’t need you in my life anymore.”
his grin faltered for half a second. just a flicker. but you saw it.
and you hated that it made you feel anything.
“you really believe that?” he asked.
you swallowed. “i have to.”
he exhaled, pushing himself off the counter. “alright. if that’s how you wanna play it.”
you expected him to leave. maybe throw in a dumb joke, do a dramatic flip out the window.
but instead, he stepped closer.
close enough that you could smell the faint scent of blood and gunpowder. that familiar deadpool smell that brought back a thousand stupid, reckless memories.
you didn’t move.
neither did he.
“tell me to go” he said, voice lower now. “tell me, and i will.”
you clenched your jaw. “wade…”
his gloved fingers ghosted over your wrist. barely there. just enough to make your breath hitch. “tell me you don’t think about me” he murmured. “not even once. not ever.”
your pulse was a drum in your ears. you wanted to shove him away. you wanted to pull him closer.
instead, you did what you did best.
you fought.
with a smirk, you tilted your head, lips barely an inch from his. “you know what i do think about?” you whispered.
he stilled. “what?”
you leaned up, breath warm against his mask.
then, you grabbed his wrist, twisted it behind his back, and slammed him into the counter.
you only managed to do this because it was the last thing he expected you to do and you caught him off guard. or maybe he just let you.
he groaned, more surprised than hurt. “oof, god, you are so hot when you’re violent.”
tou pressed harder, grinning as he winced. “you like that?”
“i love that.”
you rolled your eyes, finally letting go. he spun around, shaking out his wrist, and let out a low whistle. “damn. you still got it.”
“get out of my house.”
“okay, but counteroffer: what if we get tacos first?”
you just stared.
he clapped his hands. “alright, fine. no tacos. i’ll leave.”
he made it two steps toward the window before pausing. glancing back at you.
you crossed your arms. “what now?”
he hesitated. just for a second. then, quietly:
“…you ever think about what we could’ve been? it hadn’t been such a dumbass?”
yes, all the time “no” your throat tightened.
he smiled. a sad, knowing thing. “liar.” he got closer to you, once again.
his voice dropped even lower. “remember that night in mexico? when we-”
“don’t.” i cut him off.
“aw, come on-”
you grabbed his collar and yanked him forward until your faces were inches apart. his breath hitched, and for once, he actually shut up.
“you think this is a joke?” you murmured.
his voice came out rougher than before. “i think… we were never just a joke.”
you hated that he was right.
you hated that, despite everything, your body still remembered him. the warmth of him. the way he always smelled like gunpowder and bad decisions.
and worst of all?
you hated that you still wanted him.
his gloved fingers trailed up your arm, slow and deliberate. “tell me to leave” he whispered.
you should.
you should tell him to walk out that door and never come back.
but instead, your fingers tightened in his suit.
and you whispered, “make me.”
deadpool’s groan was pure filth.
“god, i forgot how much I love you” he muttered, voice dark with amusement. “not the feelings part, ew, emotions, but the whole you wanting to kill me while also wanting to kiss me thing? chef’s kiss.”
you rolled your eyes, but you didn’t let go.
his fingers slid under your chin, tilting your face up. “so… are we gonna keep pretending this tension isn’t a thing, or are we finally gonna do something about it?”
you smirked. “what, you think i’m just gonna fall back into your arms like nothing happened?”
he hummed. “not immediately… but give it, like, five minutes.”
you wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.
so you did the only logical thing.
you kissed him.
it was rough, all teeth and frustration, a collision of old wounds and unresolved tension. he groaned against your mouth, hands gripping your waist like he’d been dying to touch you again.
and maybe, just maybe, you’d been dying for it too.
but then, just as quickly, you shoved him away.
deadpool stumbled back, blinking. “holy- wait, was that a real kiss or just a mind game? i need clarification before I start planning our wedding.”
you wiped your mouth, smirking. “you’re still a dumbass.”
he grinned. “and you still like me.”
you shook your head, turning to leave. “don’t push your luck, wilson.”
but as you walked away, you felt his gaze lingering, like he knew, no matter how much you fought it, this wasn’t over.
not by a long shot.
the night felt thick with the tension hanging in the air. the kiss was a spark, a short, fiery burst, but it had left both of you with too much left unsaid.
you hadn’t expected the kiss to affect you the way it did.
in fact, you’d expected nothing. you’d fully intended to push him away, to remind him that you didn’t need him. but when his lips had finally met yours, all that confident indifference you’d been wearing cracked. it was a reminder. a reminder of what you’d lost.
and of what he’d taken.
but now, with him standing there, smirking like a damn idiot, you had to figure out what to do next.
deadpool ran a hand over his masked head, his lips still curled in that devilish grin. “so… not even a thank you for that?”
you narrowed your eyes, stepping closer again, just enough to make your pulse quicken. “you’re an asshole, wade.”
“yeah, but i’m your asshole” he shot back, voice low, teasing. “is that why you kissed me? because i’m still your favorite?”
the words hung in the air like a challenge. you didn’t have to look at him to know he was watching your every move.
your throat went dry, but you refused to let him see it. “i don’t need you in my life. i don’t need you at all.”
he leaned in slightly, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. “liar.”
you glared up at him, lips trembling from the weight of unsaid things. “what do you want from me, wade? i don’t even know why you’re here.”
he stepped closer, just barely invading your space, his chest brushing against yours. the feeling of his body so close made your heart hammer in your chest.
“i told you” he whispered, voice gravelly. “i don’t know either. maybe i just wanted to see if you’d still throw me out on my ass or if there’s more to us than the past.”
your lips curled into a sneer. “you don’t get to break in here and act like things can just go back to how they were.”
“who said anything about going back?” his hand, warm and bold, slid down your arm. his fingers lingered just long enough to send a shiver up your spine. “maybe i don’t want things to go back. maybe i just want to… move forward.”
you took a step back, trying to push him away. but his hand followed, never leaving your skin, and the pressure between you was suddenly too much to ignore. the air thickened. you could feel the electricity crackling between you.
“i don’t need you to move forward, wade.” the words were barely a whisper, as if you were convincing yourself more than him.
he chuckled softly, that familiar, infuriating sound that you hated but couldn’t deny. “really? ‘cause the last time i checked, you kissed me.”
you stiffened, your breath hitching. “you’re delusional.”
he smirked. “maybe. but you still don’t want me to leave. not really” his voice dropped, becoming darker, more dangerous. “maybe you like me being here more than you care to admit.”
you felt the tension inside you snap. “i don’t like it, wade” you bit out. “but it drives me insane that you’re still standing here.”
“good” he breathed, stepping even closer, his body pressing against yours, his face inches from yours again. “because i’m not going anywhere. not until you admit what’s between us.”
his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, sending an electric jolt through your entire body. “say it.”
you took a deep breath, heart pounding, and tried to resist the pull. “you’re just-”
“just what?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “what? you think i don’t know? you think i don’t see it in your eyes? that flicker of want you can’t hide?”
your body was betraying you. your heart was racing, your mind clouded by the same wild, confusing attraction you had for him when everything was simpler.
he lowered his voice even further, just for you. “you don’t hate me, do you?”
no, you didn’t hate him at all, not even a little bit.
the words hung in the air. he was pushing, but this time, you weren’t so sure you wanted to be the one pushing back.
“tell me you don’t want me anymore” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. the barest of touches. teasing you.
“i don’t…”
his lips crashed into yours before you could finish the sentence, taking the words right out of your mouth. there was no hesitation this time, no pretending. it was raw, desperate, hungry. every inch of him pressed against you, like he was claiming what was always his.
you pushed him back, but he didn’t go far. he just smiled and deepened the kiss, his hands grasping your waist, pulling you back toward him. you could feel the heat of his body, the way his muscles flexed with every movement, and the low growl of frustration that rumbled in his chest when you tried to pull away.
“don’t fight me, (y/n)” he murmured, barely pulling back enough to speak. “you know this is real.”
you were so close to losing control. but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t, admit it. not yet.
“get out” you whispered, though the words came out shaky.
his hand gripped your chin, tilting your face up so he could look you straight in the eye. “tell me you don’t feel it” he pressed. “tell me you don’t feel the same tension, the same pull…”
his lips brushed over your mouth again, slow and teasing.
you should have pushed him away, should’ve said no. but instead, you closed your eyes, leaning into the kiss, letting your lips move with his in a dance that had always been inevitable.
his scarred hand tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his other arm wrapping around your waist to lift you onto the kitchen counter, spreading your legs and getting in between them. he broke away, panting slightly. “see? you can't deny it.”
you pulled him closer, feeling his erection press against your already damp panties. his hands slid up your thighs, pushing your oversized shirt up. he growled softly, pulling you to the edge of the counter. your legs wrapped around him automatically. his mouth found yours again, hungry, aggressive.
you found the hem of his mask and took it off slowly, finally meeting those dark eyes you missed so much. he froze as your fingers curled under his mask, revealing his grotesquely scarred face. his eyes widened momentarily before dropping to mask his vulnerability with a smirk. “still fucking hot, huh?” he quipped, but there was a raw edge to his voice.
you chuckled, and nodded. “i missed your eyes” you admitted, placing another kiss on his lips. “gorgeous as always” you said, cupping his face with your hands.
his heart pounded in his chest at your gentle touch and words. the walls he'd built crumbled a little more with each passing second. he leaned into your touch, his voice barely a whisper. “you always saw past the scars, didn't you? fuck, i've missed you.”
“i’ve missed you too” you finally admitted, kissing him once again.
his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as he kissed you back, his scarred hands splayed on your lower back. he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours again. “you know what else i missed?” he asked.
you nod you head no. he smirked, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and sincerity. “this. us. fighting, making up, and especially the makeup sex.” he leaned in to nip at your lower lip gently. you chuckled.
his fingers find the hem of you oversized shirt, the one you used to sleep, in that moment he seemed to realize something, his eyes softened.
“this shirt…” he muffled into your neck between kisses. “is it mine?” he asked playfully, already knowing the answer.
“fuck off i hoped you wouldn’t notice” you chuckled blushing a bit.
he chuckled too, his fingers gently tickling your sides. “oh, i noticed. and i fucking love it.” he pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. “and i also noticed the way your body still reacts to me, the same way it used to”
you understood he was talking about your damp penties, the goosebumps on you skin whenever he whispered something to your ear or touched you. he squeezed your waist to prove his point.
he leaned in to kiss your neck softly, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts gently over your bra, making a little moan escape your lips. his smirk widened. he knew those touches drove you crazy. he slowly slid his hands down your stomach again, hooking his fingers into your lace panties. he looked up at your face, saw your parted lips, eyes half-closed. “baby?” he asked softly.
you locked eyes with him. “yeah?” you asked.
his voice was low, almost hypnotic. “i'm gonna take these off now, okay? and then i'm gonna fuck you right here on this counter, alright?” His thumbs hooked into the sides of your panties, waiting for your consent. “say yes, baby.” you started nodding eagerly. he growled softly at your nod. he liked that you were still so responsive, so needy. he yanked your panties down your legs quickly and spread them legs wider, stepping between them.
his eyes locked with yours, intense and vulnerable all at once. seeing you like this, exposed, wanting, almost brought him to his knees. he slowly undid his pants, kicking them off completely. “you still on birth control?” his voice was rough with desire but also careful.
you nodded. in that moment you were so glad you still were because you needed to feel him.
he groaned deeply, his eyes never leaving yours. he gripped your hips, pulling you to the edge of the counter before positioning himself at your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against you gently. you needed more.
“missed this pussy so fucking much.” he said thrusting deep inside you. his hips moved in long, deep strokes, one hand gripping your hip while the other supported his weight on the counter. “still fucking perfect.”
you let your head fall backwards with a moan, closing your eyes as he slowly pushed his dick inside your pussy, it felt so much better then she remembered.
he watched your body arch back, taking him deeper. your breasts pushed out, nipples hard. he growled softly, picking up his pace. he hit that spot inside you that made your eyes roll back. you wrapped you arms around his neck, needing to feel him closer to your body, and kissed him. he kissed you back fiercely, tongue invading your mouth to claim it as his. his hands moved to grip your ass, lifting you slightly as he angled his hips to hit that spot inside you even harder. you almost screamed of pleasure when he did that. he groaned into your mouth, the kisses messy and desperate. “i love fucking you like this”
“this feels so fucking good” you moaned, begging him to go faster. he growled possessively, grabbing both your ass cheeks tightly. he started pounding into you harder and faster, the counter shaking underneath you. his mouth found yours again in a rough kiss. “fuck, i missed these sounds you make…” he hit that spot again and again, making you gasp. “fuck! keep going, i am so close!” you moaned.
he grunted, his hips moving faster, his body slapping against yours. he could feel your legs trembling around him, your breath hitching in your throat. “that's it, baby. come all over my cock.” he adjusted the angle slightly, hitting that sweet spot relentlessly.
“fuck wade” you came crying out his name. he groaned, feeling your pussy clench around him tightly as you came. it triggered his own orgasm. he buried himself deep inside you, hips stuttering as he released. “fuck yes, that's my girl…”
he rested his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. his heart was pounding in his chest. he gently pulled out of you, making you wince slightly. he bent down, pulling up your panties gently, then his own clothes. “come here”
you get down the counter, struggling to stand up due to your shaking legs, your body still hadn’t recovered from your orgasm.
he wrapped his arms around you tightly, lifting you off your shaky legs completely. he carried you to the couch, sitting down and settling you onto his lap. his fingers gently stroked your hair as he pressed soft kisses to your temple. “you okay, baby?” his voice was soft, almost tender.
“yeah, i just missed this” you answered nodding.
he sighed softly, holding you tighter. "missed you too, baby” he paused, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. “god, i fucking hate being the asshole i’ve been.”
“it’s ok, i think you’ve learned your lesson”
he chuckled softly, his body relaxing. “damn right. no more being a dickhead?” he checked softly, his thumb caressing your jaw softly. “you forgive me for being an idiot?” he was almost serious, his eyes watching you carefully.
“absolutely not. not yet at least. you still have a long way to go” you smirked playfully at him.
he groaned playfully, nuzzling your neck. “fuck, you're mean.” he bit gently at your neck, his hands squeezing your bottom. “alright, what do I need to do to earn that forgiveness, huh?” his voice was low, flirtatious.
“mmh i don’t know, maybe you could start with a second round, i deserve that, don’t i?” she flirted. he grinned mischievously, his eyes lighting up with desire. “oh, you definitely deserve a second round, baby.” he stood up, holding you close as he started towards the bedroom. “and maybe a third, and a fourth…”
a/n: let me know you liked it, and if you did, don’t be scared to like, comment or reblog, it would really help me since this blog is new. let me know if you have any kind of request, not just for deadpool, it can be of any marvel character or more, i’m happy to write them <3
i never thought that one day i’d end up tied upside down, trapped during a mission, with him. especially not with him. i was facing away from him, and his body was fully pressed against my back due to the tightly bound rope around us. i started struggling and squirming, trying to break free, unaware of the effect these actions were having on him.
he shifted slightly, trying to ignore the growing discomfort. “would you fuckin' stop wiggling?” he grunted, his voice strained. “unless you're trying to start something, because I gotta warn ya, my dick doesn't have a filter.”
i stopped moving as soon as i felt his hard erection pressed against her ass.
what.
the.
fuck.
“what the fuck you have a fucking boner now?” i asked, feeling a mix of exasperation and disgust. “get that thing away from my ass!” i ordered.
“hey, it's not my fault you've been grinding against me like a horny teenager!” he chuckled despite their situation “plus, have you seen that ass? it’s a fucking work of art, and now my dick's paying unwanted compliments to it.”
“if you don’t get that thing down i will fucking chop it off myself as soon as we get down from here” i said struggling trying to loosen the rope.
deadpool groaned dramatically, shifting to try easing the pressure against her. “alright, alright, jeez. chill the fuck out before you actually make me lose it.” he squirmed uncomfortably, attempting to create some space. “my dick is fully aware of your threat now.”
“good, now please, help me get us free. we have to get down from here” she says starting to squirm once again, unintentionally rubbing against him once again.
as i moved again, he inhaled sharply. i could feel his erection twitch against my backside. “dammit woman, would you hold still for two seconds?” he growled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “you're making this impossible to ignore!”
“at least i’m doing something! and please put that small dick away from me before you end up creaming your pants like a teenage boy” i ordered, already tired of the situation. the truth? what i felt was anything but small, but i couldn’t let him think that. he spent all his time annoying me, i figured if i did it a little too, there would be no harm in it.
in the meantime, i reached for his baby knife in the pocket of his suit and handed it to him so he could finally set us free.
his mouth dropped open slightly, taking offense.
“who the hell are you calling small?” he hissed softly, his hips shifting back slightly.
“you, and your dick” i answered, just to tease him a little bit more.
“nah, fuck it” he muttered, carefully adjusting his position so his erection presses more firmly against my backside for a brief moment before quickly cutting and loosening the rope. “and by the way, sweetheart? In case you're curious…” his voice dropped to a whisper against my ear.
i pretended i wasn’t, but I actually was.
“...it's definitely not small.” he confirmed with a smug chuckle, finally succeeding in loosening the knot just as he finishes his little jab. “ta-da! free at last…” he remarked as the rope gave way, both of them dropping ungracefully to the ground with a thud.
“yeah keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better” i teased. i looked at him.
he laughs softly, eyes twinkling mischievously. “annnnd... you've officially killed the mood” he pauses, grinning widely. “oh wait, no you haven't. you're still stuck here with me, and I'm still really fucking hard”
“and i definitely won’t do something about it, go jerk off to somewhere else and far away from me” i answered annoyed.
“who said I wanted you to do anything? though honestly?” he sat up suddenly, invading my personal space. “considering you've basically called me small dick several times now, i think i deserve some kinda apology.” his smirk deepened as he noticed my discomfort. “or maybe…”
“or maybe what?”
he was silent for a few seconds, as if he was thinking before speaking.
“i'm just curious... what would happen if i fucked you right now.” he leaned in closer.
“like i said before, if you tried to fuck me right now i’d probably chop your dick off and stick it to your forehead, so you’d become a fucking unicorn” she answered sarcastically.
he bursted out laughing, actually full-out doubling over with laughter at my threat. “fuck, sweetheart! i actually believe you would!” his eyes narrowed playfully. “but see, that's the thing…” he moved quicker than i expected, pinning her wrists together with just one hand. “i like dangerous women” he smirked down at me, his face inches from mine. “the more likely you are to castrate me, the more I wanna fuck you.” he pressed his hips down slightly, i could feel the outline of his erection against my core through our clothes.
i did everything i could to hide the moan that escaped my lips as soon as he did that, but he caught it anyway. “fuck off”
“language” he murmured, his voice muffled by his mask. he nuzzled his face against mine, his mask rubbing against my cheek. he could probably feel my breath hitching, my body tensing underneath him, everything i didn’t want him to feel, the effect he was having on me. “you really want me to stop?” he asked.
i looked into the white eyes of his mask for a few seconds without saying anything. i was about to give in to my desires and admit how much i actually wanted him.
“fuck no, keep going” he lifted his mask, revealing just his lips, then took his face in my hands and pressed my lips against his bruised ones.
he deepened the kiss immediately: he parted his lips, inviting me in as he angled his head to kiss me more deeply. he broke the kiss briefly to whisper. “fuck the plan. fuck the mission. fuck everything. right now, i just wanna fuck you.” he kissed me again before i could respond, his tongue diving into my mouth, hungry and desperate. “tell me i can.”
i kissed him back. “yes you can, please fuck me” i begged, i was so desperate for him.
as soon as i gave him the permission, he kissesd me harder. he ground against me, his arousal was now so evident through his pants. “on your back” he commanded between kisses, his breathing heavy and rapid. “now”
i immediately did what he asked, lying down on my back. as soon as i did, he positioned himself between my legs and leaned down to capture my lips again, his tongue exploring my mouth greedily. he started to rock his hips, pressing his hard bulge against my core through our clothes.
“fuck” i let out a moan.
he grinned against my lips, pleased with my reaction. he continued to grind against me, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate. his hands reach for the top of my suit, tugging at it impatiently. “off” he growled, breaking the kiss.
i started taking off the top of my suit, as he asked. i wasn’t wearing a bra underneath it.
his eyes widened as he took in the sight of my bare breasts. he licked his lips, his gaze lingering on my chest before snapping back to my face. without hesitation, he leaned down to capture one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting gently, making small sounds escape from my lips. “fuck, you're perfect”
his mouth moved to my other breast to give it equal attention. he ground against my core again, his control slipping. he could feel me moaning against his mouth and my body writhing beneath him. his thumbs hook into my pants. “take those off, now”
i did as he asked once again, but taking my lace panties on. i started to grind against him and roll my hips over his, knowing that it would drive him mad. he groaned deeply “fucking hell” he muttered, his voice strained with desire.
he reached down to grab my hips, lifting me slightly as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my lace panties. he pulls them down, tossing them aside carelessly. he looks down at my bare pussy, his eyes glinting with hunger. “tell me to stop”
“no please, please i don’t want you to stop” she begged.
he growled, his hand reaching down to cup my pussy possessively. it was already so wet, and when he discovered that he couldn’t help but smirk proudly. he slid one finger inside of my pussy, causing me to let out a moan. “oh yeah?”
i nodded desperately while repeating words like “yeah” and “keep going”.
he chuckled darkly, adding a second finger and curling them upward to hit that sweet spot inside of me. it felt so good. he watched my face contort with pleasure, my eyes fluttering shut. “look at me” he demanded, his voice firm. “i wanna see your face when you come for me”
i tried to keep my eyes open despite the pleasure, but it became more difficult when he began moving his fingers faster, more insistently, sensing i was close. his other hand moves to tease my clit, making me gasp and buck against him. “such a good girl, taking my fingers so perfectly…” his voice drops to a whisper. “imagine how good my cock will feel…”
“fuck yeah it’d feel soo good” i moaned against his lips.
fuck i loved when he talked dirty to me, it was so fucking hot, and he must have understood it too, by the way my walls clenched around his fingers at his words.
sensing my approval, he leaned down to whisper directly into my ear, his hot breath mingling with his dirty words. “i'm gonna stretch you open with my dick, fuck you so hard you forget your own name... you wanna feel that, baby? you want me to fuck you?”
“yes please fuck me!” she begged, he made her a moaning mess.
his jaw tightens with lust. he pulls his fingers out of my wet pussy, making me whimper. he quickly shoved his pants and boxers down to free his hard length. he looks down at me, as i was spreading thighs, his voice hoarse. “no condom”
“we don’t need it, i need to feel you” i moaned.
he positioned himself at my entrance, the tip of his raw length pressing against me. he looks into my eyes, searching for any hesitation. “you sure? no protection?” he asked, his voice low. “because once i start, i'm not pulling out…” he warned.
“then don’t pull out” i said seductively, while biting my bottom lip.
with a guttural growl, he thrusted forward, filling me completely in one harsh motion. he doesn't even give me time to adjust, instead, he starts pounding without mercy, his raw flesh slapping against mine. i cried out his name.
“fuck you take me so well” he panted
he grinned, thrusting harder and deeper, enjoying the way my body responded to his. “you like my big cock inside you, don't you?” he taunted. he leaned down to bite my lip gently.
suddenly, i flipped our positions, rolling him onto his back and straddling him, sitting on his cock as i started riding him.
his eyes widen. “fuck” he hissed, his hands grabbing my ass tightly and the squeezing it. “you look so fucking hot like this” his head falls back for the pleasure.
i started riding his dick harder, taking it deep inside my pussy. i was so close now.
he groaned loudly, his fingers digging into my hips, leaving bruises on my skin, as he helped me bounce faster on his cock. “that's it, baby” he panted, he could feel his own orgasm building rapidly. “you gonna come on my dick?”
i nodded desperately, as i was closer and closer to my release. my pussy started clenching around his cock.
“like that?” he asked hoarsely, watching my tits bounce. he gave me a sharp thrust from below, hitting me deep. “here?” another thrust. “or is it better here?” he hit the g-spot again and again, making me cry out, it was too much. “you gonna scream my name when you come?”
“oh fuck, keep hitting that spot i’m so close, please” i begged. he kept hitting it mercilessly, his face contorting with his impending orgasm. he grabbed my tits, squeezing them roughly. “cum on my dick, baby” he growled. “scream my name when you come.” i could tell he was so close too.
and finally, there it was, the feeling i was chasing finally hits, and it felt good. so good i had to cried out and scream his name as i came. that was all wade needed to get to his own high. with one last thrusts he released deep inside my pussy, holding me tightly against him. “fuck yes” he groaned, his cock pulsing with each jet of his cum.
“fuck... so fucking good…” he whispered, pulling my face down so our lips were were inches apart. “look at what you fucking do to me…” he connected our lips with a slow and sloppy kiss, as he was still throbbing inside me.
he broke the kiss, a satisfied smirk on his face. “you know what?” he asked, still catching his breath. i looked at him, waiting for him to finish the sentence. “i could get used to this.” and then he gave me a playful wink. “round two in five minutes?”
“what about the mission?” i asked.
he shrugged unconcerned. “ah, fuck the mission” he said dismissively. “i'd rather spend the day buried inside you. we can worry about saving the world later.” he chuckled and kisses me again, his hands wandering over my body possessively. “five minutes…”
“five minutes” i repeated before kissing his lips again.
a/n: this was my first one-shot, i really hope you liked it, and if you did, don’t be scared to like ore reblog, it would really help me since this blog is new. let me know if you have any kind of request, not just on deadpool, it can be of any marvel character or more, i’m happy to write them <3
