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webslingingslasher · 11 months

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Modelling all the new lingerie you bought for frat Peter and he's absolutely losing his mind

i want to preface that this is absolutly size inclusive, i just went with victoria's secret for the branding but we're gonna pretend they have all the sizes and inclusitivity they should.

warnings: a lil smutty

Peter eyed the pink and black paper bag in your hand, he tried to be understanding but there is nothing in that store that’s for him. You said you had a surprise and you got him something, but here you were standing in front of him with a victoria’s secret bag and a wide smile.

“If you want me to wear womens panties during sex I need to hear you say it now.”

You laugh, “no, that’s not… wait, would you?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

You roll your eyes, “always dramatic, parker.”

He would. He’d do anything for you, you just don’t believe him yet.

“No, I got these for you…” you trail and have a hand go digging, you pull up a lacy red lingerie piece.

Dead silence, you start to feel insecure. Mandy assured you he’d like it, go feral even. But he’s giving you a blank stare, you want to throw the fabric over the balcony. After a crushing thirty second silence you feel warmth flooding your cheeks, you scramble to put the fabric back in. It’s pointless, you’d never be able to look at it again, let alone the store.

Peter’s eyes widened watching your panicked movements, he was waiting for more information. He supposes it’s pretty but he really doesn’t think he could fit in it, plus this is a pretty major kink to throw on him at once.

Refusing to make eye contact you ramble, “this was so stupid, I hate myself.”

“Hey,”

“Forget this ever happened, this is so embarrassing I have to leave.”

“Hey,” louder.

You bulldozed.

“In fact, I think we could just end this here, peter. I mean this was obviously weird enough for the both-”

He’s not going to lose you, “I didn’t say anything!”

“That’s the point! You aren’t into it, Mandy swore you’d like it but-”

Peter lets out a sigh, “baby, I mean, is that even my size?”

You stop speaking and blink, you look at the bag and back at your frat boy.

He thought it was for him, he actually thought you wanted him to dress up for you.

“No, you dolt! They’re mine, I just wanted to, I dunno.. model them for you.”

It felt less embarrassing wallowing in silence.

“Oh.”

“Oh!”

A cocky grin spilled over his face, his hands interlocked behind his head and he leaned back on his bed, you watched his core tighten and flex with the movement.

Peter licked his lips, “please do. Leave red for last, it’s my favorite color.”

You’re glad he can’t see your shy smile, “I know.”

The conformation makes the heat blossom in his chest.

—-------------

Peter loves how you look, he says it every chance he gets, but knowing you put on a skimpy outfit with the goal being observed made you self conscious in a different way. Peter makes sure to dote on you plenty when he’s taking your clothes off, but those are small glances and kisses, this was you presenting yourself and showing off.

You ran a hand down your torso as you exhaled heavily, you had to trust Peter. You weren’t sure what was happening between you two, it was a weird midway point. It was like you were dating but the casual touching or labeling was way off beat.

The bathroom door clicks open and you step out boldly.

“Ready?”

Your boy’s head lifted off the bed, the first glance sent him scrambling to hit up. His eyes dragged over your body, everywhere he could see he soaked it in, like he was memorizing each curve of your body. It should make you feel self conscious, but he makes you confident.

“My beautiful girl, hm?” His hands reach out, you step into his hold and feel him explore. You feel his fingertips race across the black lace of your bra, it’s not covering much, you can feel the heat of his hands through the mesh on your chest.

You squirm as his tracing tickles you, his thumbs resting at your hips, he can’t stop himself. He lifts up the lace hanging from your front, the baby doll thrown over his head as he presses kisses up and down your torso. You sigh and grab the back of his head, you tangle into the curls and lean into him as his fingers dig into the plush on your waistline to keep you close.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” batty eyelashes blink up at you, he’s a proud simp and munch. He kisses right above your thong, “how’d I get so lucky?”

His words make your knees weak, he always talks like that, like he’s the most lucky person on the planet to have you in his arms. He acts like you chose him, like you picked the short straw, but you were the lucky one.

You pat his shoulders and step away, “one out of five?”

No hesitation, “seven.”

“Cheat. Don’t go anywhere, I have two more.”

Peter sputters, “as if you have to tell me?”

—----------------------

This one was a lot more fitting.

It was bold, it was a nice hunter green, a bold bra and itty, bitty, crotchless panties.

It felt like everything but your nipples were out, you’d burn this one if you hadn’t put your foot in your mouth about two more. You tap your foot as you look over yourself in the mirror and shake your head. Peter's seen you naked hundreds of times but you felt more exposed than ever before.

“Petey?”

Muffled, “yes, baby?”

You didn’t know where to go from there, you heard movement, then a little closer to the door.

“You alright, baby?”

You let out a puff of air, “it’s a lot.”

He’s connecting dots, “the outfit?”

“Yeah.”

Peter lets out an airy laugh, “I hate to tell you babe, but I’ve seen it all and love it more every time I do.”

You nibble your lip, you just need a hype man, he could be that easily.

“I’m like, naked naked.”

“Perfect.”

“It’s dark green.”

A whine, “please let me see!”

You crack the door open and peek out an eye, you see Peter watching the ground before looking up and smiling wide. You swing it open and spin slowly, his eyes not leaving your lower half. Peter crosses to the doorway and pulls at your hips and throws you on the bathroom counter.

You gasp and watch his eyes trail down, he catches sight between your legs and you close them self consciously, his hand stops the meeting, then taps at your knee with his thumb for you to open back up for him. He takes his time drawing you in, his throat low and scratchy when he speaks.

“Oh, oh I like these. I like these a lot.”

Peter’s thumb races up the side of your thigh before gently tracing around your inner thigh and higher, you jostle as he rubs over the space your crotch should be, you choke on air and hit your head against the mirror, you open your eyes to see his locked on your face, his pupils blended into his eyes.

He circles again and you grab his wrist to push it away, “I still have to show you the red one.”

“I already saw it, I’m about to get on my knees and worship you.”

Your cheeks feel like they're on fire, “let me show you the last one, then you can choose which one you wanna take me in.”

Peter gives a sharp inhale, “you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

—-----------------------

A full piece in red, you picked this one out yourself. It screamed Peter, the color, the lace, the style.

The body had a built in corset, red cinched your waist. The bottom lapels had straps that connected to your thigh belts, this time a cheeky pair of underwear. It contrasted the harsh sex of the bodice, a peek of bum that led more to the imagination, just like your chest being pushed up from the corset.

It was both the most dressed and undressed you’ve been all evening. The other’s were more uncovered but this one made you feel hot and powerful and confident.

You didn’t need any help with this one.

“This gotta be your favorite, right?”

Peter felt time stop, he was absolutely speechless. He’s never seen you so.. so… gorgeous. A cocky grin, one that told him you knew how good you looked. And he doesn’t care what anyone has to say, his girl wearing his favorite color in lingerie was the down right sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

His silence doesn’t scare you, it makes you fill with pride.

“Yeah… that’s the one.”

You stalked to the end of the bed where he sat, his fingers tugging at your thigh buckles.

“I’ve never had a girl dress up for me like this.” A delicate confession, while his fingers and hands fondled over your backside and thighs.

You shrug and run your hand through his hair, “you make me want to dress up for you.”

Peter pulls at you to straddle his waist, “I’ll never stop being grateful.”

“Is this the winner? You can take it off whenever.”

Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “I kinda just like looking at you right now.”

The black piece was lust.

The green piece was passion.

The red piece was love.

Three things are very clear to Peter Parker in that moment.

One, he wasn’t sure when, but you were going to be his girlfriend.

Two, he’s almost eighty percent sure he loves you.

Three, this is the hardest he’s been in his entire life.

#peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker smut #tasm!peter smut #peter parker fluff #my writing #frat!peter

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buckcluck67 · 1 month

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youtube

get out stay out and call 999

#dilys price #fireman sam #norman price #mandy flood #fireman sam on stage #Youtube

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firemansamfans2023 · 23 days

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youtube

get ready for norman

#norman price #mandy flood #fireman sam live pontypandy rocks #Youtube

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denim-mixtapes · 2 years

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Just went to go take a shower and discovered my bathroom ceiling is leaking I love my liiiiiife

#mandy be talkin'#and so close to the anniversary of when my apartment flooded last year lmao cool

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bellaxgiornata · 7 months

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Under the Weather

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Despite the fact that he's coming down with a cold, Matt refuses to heed your advice on staying inside instead of running around Hell's Kitchen in the freezing autumn rain. In the morning, you're left with an even sicker, more stubborn Devil.

Warnings/tags: 18+; Nothing but fluff and a stubborn, flirty Devil

a/n: Yet another little fluffy fic for Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge by the lovely @she-likesorchids! Can you tell I had to make sure all my boys got a fic? This one was for the prompt "Let's just stay in bed." Feedback is always appreciated!

Finally finished with the after dinner cleanup, you washed your hands in the kitchen sink, the pounding of the rain outside the apartment a persistent backdrop to the evening. As you turned off the faucet and reached over to grab the towel from the nearby hook, you heard the bedroom door slide open. Glancing up from your place at the sink as you dried your hands, you spotted Matt exiting the bedroom dressed in his black suit, his black mask on his head but not yet pulled down over his face. You frowned at the sight of him, eyes focusing back on the windows covered in rainfall as the light from the billboard across the street flooded through them, coating the living room in a dark blue.

Focusing back on Matt, you hung up the towel before you began to make your way through the kitchen towards him. You noticed how he'd stopped mid-step on his way to the stairs leading to the roof access as you walked, his head shifting over his shoulder towards you.

"Matt," you said, tone lightly chastising.

It didn’t escape your notice how he'd instantly stiffened at the sound of your voice. You could also tell by the way his shoulders were slightly slumped forward and the faint red tinge visible on his nose that he still felt a bit under the weather. But of course, Matthew being Matthew, he apparently was still planning to go out. You should have known as much.

"Maybe you should stay in tonight," you suggested carefully, eyeing the thin material of his shirt as the rain only continued to dump onto the roof of the apartment. "You know, like we talked about earlier? At dinner?"

He turned fully towards you, straightening his back as his sightless gaze landed on your chest. His eyes narrowed a bit and you knew he was about to pretend the big bad Devil wasn't sick, but the faint sniffle from his stuffed up nose ruined whatever effect he thought he was about to have on you.

“I’m fine, sweetheart," he told you.

His voice was a little distorted because of the congestion and you scoffed immediately. Crossing your arms over your chest, you quirked a brow at him.

"You're sick, Matt," you pointed out. "You need rest. You said yourself earlier that nothing was going on tonight in Hell’s Kitchen. So stay in and take care of yourself. You'll be no help to anyone in the city if something actually happens and you're even sicker."

Matt shook his head at you, that stubborn expression still on his face. Of course he wasn't going to listen. He was going to ignore what he needed to do for himself for the sake of the people of Hell’s Kitchen, and as much as you loved and admired that about him, he really needed to learn one of these days that he was still only human. He needed to take care of himself.

But getting that through his head was damn near impossible.

"I don't get sick," he countered, voice still noticeably off. "I’m completely fine, sweetheart. I'm just going out for a bit to keep an eye on things. You don't need to wait up for me."

“Matt, it’s barely above freezing outside right now!” you exclaimed, throwing a hand towards the living room window. “And it’s raining . Ten degrees less and that would be snow right now! What you're wearing isn't even remotely warm. You’re going to make yourself incredibly sick if you go running around rooftops tonight dressed in that !”

Matt’s lips drew into a devilish smirk, a smug expression overtaking his features. The look might have had the desired effect on you if he hadn’t sniffled loudly yet again, his red nose scrunching up as he did.

“You like this suit,” he countered.

“No,” you said, holding up a hand as you corrected him. “I like how you look in this suit, Matt. I absolutely hate how little protection it offers for knives, baseball bats, and cold weather. There’s a massive difference.”

“I’ll be just fine,” he assured you.

Matt reached a hand up, pulling his mask down until it covered his face, leaving only his lips and chin visible. The gesture was meant to end the conversation, you were aware of that. Sighing in exasperation, you rolled your eyes at him. You knew damn well he was going to be miserable come morning.

“We all know you’re just going to do what you want anyway,” you grumbled, crossing the rest of the way over towards him. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t need you bleeding out and sick later.”

“I’m not sick,” he countered immediately.

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek, just below the black fabric of his mask. “Sure you’re not, babe. I’ll remember that when you’re clinging to me tomorrow and complaining about how awful you feel.”

You could tell by the way his lips pursed and the fabric had shifted along his face that he was shooting you an irritated look. The corner of your own mouth quirked up into a smirk. You’d seen Matt sick a couple of times before and he was always absolutely desperate for physical comfort–though you figured with his heightened senses, being sick felt a whole lot worse to him. And you figured it probably muted his usual ability to navigate the world as he was used to, especially with a stuffed up nose affecting his sense of smell.

“I do not get clingy ,” he disagreed with obvious distaste.

“Whatever you say, Matty,” you replied, lightly patting him on the arm.

You turned, making your way over towards the leather couch. If Matt was going to run around outside in the equivalent of tissue paper while he was sick, you were going to relax and watch some television while being smart and not going outside in the freezing autumn rain.

“I do not get clingy!” he stated again.

Abruptly he turned, storming his way over towards the staircase. You settled into the cushions of the couch with a shake of your head.

“Alright, you don’t get clingy when you’re sick,” you told him.

As you picked up the television remote from the coffee table, you saw Matt had paused yet again at the sound of your voice. Head turning just over his shoulder, cocked a bit to the side, you didn’t miss the deep frown spreading over his lips.

“You didn’t mean that,” he pointed out, tapping a gloved hand to his ear. “I could hear your heart.”

Rolling your eyes playfully at him, you flashed him a grin before you focused on the television across the room. “Of course I didn’t,” you told him, turning on the TV. “Because you do get clingy when you’re sick.”

Matt rumbled out a noise of frustration, stalking his way up the stairs and towards the roof access without another word. He obviously knew he wasn’t winning this argument with you. You began scanning through the channels, looking for a fall baking show to watch as he pulled the door open, the sound of the rain outside briefly louder until the door closed with a sharp clang after him. Shaking your head again, you finally settled on what you were looking for.

“You’re going to be so miserable in the morning,” you muttered under your breath, aware he could still hear you.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Something ice cold landed on your bare stomach and your eyes immediately snapped open, the chill pulling you straight from your sleep. A miserable, muffled groan met your ears over the sound of light rain pattering outside as your barely conscious mind tried to quickly piece everything together.

You were in bed with Matt curled up against the back of you. Apparently it was his icy cold hand on your stomach that had woken you. He shifted behind you, his frigid hand on your bare stomach drawing you further towards him just before he buried his face against the back of your neck. You shivered at how cold he felt against you–Matt was usually a furnace who kept you warm.

“Matt, you’re freezing,” you whispered, trying to glance over your shoulder at him.

“I know,” he groaned, pulling himself in tighter to the back of you. “You’re so warm, though.”

You frowned immediately at the thick, congested sound of his voice. He sounded far worse than he had last night. And that was the only thing keeping you from your usual reaction to Matt’s nearly naked body wrapped so tight around yours.

“You’re sick,” you pointed out.

He groaned again, shaking his head against the back of your neck. “Don’t say it,” he begged, his voice almost a whine. "Don't even say it, sweetheart."

Sighing at his plea for you to not rub the consequences of his actions in his face, your hand dropped down to cover the one he had on your stomach. You did your best attempting to warm it up, rubbing your hand back and forth across his large one. Matt hummed out a pleased noise in response, the sound quite nasally.

“Fine, but you’re sick, Matt,” you pointed out. “I need to take your temperature. See what medicine we still have in the apartment for you to take because I might need to run to the store." You paused when he pitifully moaned in protest at that. "And you’re not going into the office to help Foggy with that thing this morning. I’ll call him myself. Him and Karen can handle things on their own. You need rest.”

“Only if you stay with me,” he murmured, his arm tightening around your waist. “You’re so warm and comfortable. Don't want you to go. Let's just stay in bed .”

Clearing your throat, you pitched your voice lower as you grinned and said, “I’m not clingy, sweetheart.”

Matt groaned again, burying his face further into your neck. “ Not funny,” he muttered.

“Maybe to you,” you countered, still grinning, “but I think it’s quite pertinent.” Patting the back of his hand that was holding you firmly to the front of himself, you said, "I need to get up, Matty. Need to call Fog for you and find the thermometer. And check the medicine cabinet to see what we have. Maybe make us both some hot tea while I'm up."

You felt the way he shook his head once again against you, muttering out a noise of disagreement. He began shifting behind you in the bed, soon tossing one of his legs over the top of both of yours. It was so easy to forget how muscular and powerful Matt was sometimes because you were so used to seeing him walking around the apartment in barely anything most of the time, his muscles often on display. But his single leg was solid and heavy , easily trapping you beneath the weight of it as he refused to release his hold on you and let you up.

" Matt !" you laughed out, reaching your hand down to playfully swat his thigh. "I'm trying to help you!"

"No. Don't want it," he muttered, words muffled against your skin. " Mine ," his congested voice nearly purred as he curled possessively around you.

Your eyes widened in surprise, another little laugh falling out of you. That was new.

"Matt, I at least need to call Fog and get your temperature–you're positively freezing," you told him. "Let me help you. Please?"

He grumbled discontentedly in response, not making any attempt to move. You shifted as best as you could in his restricting embrace, trying to get a look at him.

" Please ?" you tried again, drawing the word out.

It was a moment before he released a resigned sigh beside your ear, his warm breath brushing over your shoulder a sharp contrast to his cold skin pressed against you.

"Will you come back to bed after?" he asked. "Stay with me?"

"If that's what you want, I can stay with you for a bit longer this morning," you relented. "But only after I get all of that done."

Matt hummed out a noise of disagreement, shaking his head. "Uh uh," he mumbled. "I'll give you ten minutes."

You laughed once again, unable to help yourself. "Excuse me? You'll give me ten minutes?" you asked him. "What happens if I take longer than that?"

Gradually he drew his thick thigh from off the top of you, his cold hand retreating from your stomach soon after. Your brows briefly furrowed before he gave your ass a light, unexpected smack. Instantly your eyes widened in shock at the gesture.

"The Devil will bring you back to bed," he warned.

That familiar dark, gravelly tone of his was hard to miss, even with how congested he sounded. A jolt of something shot through you at his threat, the hair on the back of your neck raising. Matt rumbled out a noise behind you in response to your body's reaction.

"Better hurry," he teased. "Time is running out, sweetheart."

Tossing the covers off of yourself, you climbed out of bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Though as you headed to the bathroom to check the medicine cabinet and grab the thermometer, you admittedly found yourself curious about what a sick Devil might do to you if you took too long.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #mandy's sweater weather challenge #matt murdock #daredevil

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jamie-leah · 1 month

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Lifeline Pt 6

Bucky x Reader

Series

Summary: You have a past that you're running from and maybe Bucky can be the lifeline you had no idea you were searching for.

Word Count: 1,113

Warnings: Mention of explosions, hospitals, minor injuries, angst

A/N: I was planning to make this longer but I haven't had the time this week. Hope this one isn't too boring, the next one will be a good one! Enjoy!

<-Previous Part Next Part->

Masterlist of Masterlists

It’s snowing. That’s what you see when you open your eyes. Snow falling from the ceiling. It reminds you of the times you and your dad used to lay in the snow, looking up at the sky. It was always after a snowball fight would break out. You smile despite the sadness clouding the memory.

It isn’t until Bucky’s face comes into view with smudges of black on his face that you realise the snow isn’t really snow, but ash. You gasp as the last ten minutes of your life comes flooding back. Mandy, the bomb, the explosion, and darkness.

When you get your eyes to focus you see Bucky saying, “are you okay? Talk to me.”

You nod, his hands reaching to cup your face as you will your aching body to sit up and take stock of the carnage around you. Debris is scattered everywhere, people running around it like ants trying to put the fire out.

The next few hours are a blur. Steve finds you and Bucky and manages to get the two of you into an ambulance. When you get there, they separate you despite how hard Bucky fights them to stay with you. You have some scans, tests and stitches but you don’t take much of it in. Staring into space seems to be about the only thing you can do.

It feels like so much time has passed and yet no time at all when you hear yelling just outside the curtain obscuring you from the room.

“I just need to go see her.”

“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to let you back there.”

“You’re not letting me do anything. I need to see her.”

“Hey! You can’t do that.”

The blue curtain is ripped to the side, and you find Bucky again. He has some stitches on his hairline and the blood and soot is gone.

You glance to the outraged nurse, “it’s okay, he’s family.”

She raises an eyebrow turning and marches away to her next patient.

You watch Bucky’s face soften as his eyes roam over your body from head to toe. His chest taking a deep breath for what seems the first time since you promised him you would stay back at your apartment a few days ago.

He takes a step towards you, “hey, how’re you doing?”

You shake your head, “Bucky, what the hell was that?”

“I’ll apologise to the nurse after-”

“No. Not the nurse.”

You stare at each other and for the first time since you met he seems to be at a loss for words.

Bucky paces the length of the hospital bed that you’re sitting on the edge of, “we should wait for the others, it’ll be easier to explain.”

“What will be easier to explain?”

Bucky keeps pacing.

“What were you going to tell me? Your text...you said you needed to talk to me, like you wanted to tell me something. What was it?” You ask.

Bucky stops in front of you. You watch him fight with himself.

You let out a humourless laugh, “I almost died today. We almost died today.”

Bucky reaches for your hand, your fingers intertwining on instinct, like he needs to remind himself that you both made it out in one piece, “I know,” he whispers back.

“So, tell me. Just tell me.”

Bucky lets out a heavy sigh, dropping your hand as he lowers himself into the chair next to your bed. “We’ve been trying to track someone for a while now. Someone working for Hydra. A bombmaker. He’s been setting bombs off all over the country and the world, causing panic and chaos. Natasha caught wind of him about two years ago, but he stepped up his game in the last year or so.”

“So, you think the bomb was from him?”

Bucky shrugs, “we would have to assess whatever is left of the bomb, but it seems like a safe bet to me.”

Your brow knits in confusion, “I don’t understand what that has to do with what you were going to tell me. You text me hours before that bomb at the Tower.”

Bucky leans forward, elbows on knees, “we raided a safe house yesterday and found the identity of the bombmaker.”

“You caught him?”

“No. We found a video, like a bomb making tutorial of sorts. The man teaching is the man we believe to be the bombmaker.”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with-”

“It was Andrew.”

Bucky only said three words. Three words. And as much as you tried you just couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell you. Or maybe you didn’t want to.

You shake your head, “no. It wasn’t Andrew. It can’t be. He was in the Army, as much as I hate him, he fought for this country he wouldn’t hurt the country he fought so hard for.”

“What did he specialise in?” he asks.

You swallow, not wanting to answer because you know you’ll only prove his point further.

“What did he specialise in?” He asks again.

“Bomb disposal” the words spill softly out of your mouth and onto the floor.

Bucky nods, “and did you know that there has been an explosion in every city you’ve been to in the last year?”

You look to Bucky in shocked horror, “what?”

“Natasha is the one that spotted the pattern after we raided the safe house. A couple of days after you’ve left each city or state, there’s an explosion. Some were written off as accidents, others not so much.”

You swipe at your eyes before the tear that threatens could fall, “you’re telling me that I’m married to a terrorist? And that at least some of the explosions that have gone off are my fault?”

Bucky jumps to his feet, rushing to grip your shoulders, “you listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once. That man is not your responsibility. What he chooses to do is not on you. This was a path he was always going to choose whether you were his wife or not. This is not on you.”

Bucky lifts your chin with his fingers until your gaze meets his, “and we know what we’re dealing with now. Who we’re dealing with. We also have an advantage...you. If you stay, you can help us find him and stop him. You know him like no one else does.”

Tears slip down your face as you nod up at the man that feels like the only thing keeping you together. A lifeline in the darkness. And he just might be your only chance of making it out of this alive.

Tags: @ordelixx @cjand10 @identity2212 @sukaibg @bellabarnes1378 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @vicmc624 @scott-loki-barnes

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky #bucky x you #bucky fandom #bucky series #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes

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kayhi808 · 7 months

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Rainy Days

Another submission for Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge, created by @she-likesorchids. I used the Sentence Prompts: "Oh no, it's raining" & "Don't move, you're warm." Just some rainy day smut with Billy Russo.

*photos from pinterest

This is one of the biggest storms to hit New York. The morning is grey and gloomy, as you look down on the once busy streets of Manhattan. Today the streets are flooded. The few that are out there are knee deep in water. You blow on your steaming morning latte, wrapping your hands around the hot mug. You love staying at Billy's place. He's got the good espresso machine. Your mini-Keurig at home doesn't even compare.

The first report of the incoming storm, Billy had you packed up and brought you over to his penthouse. It's not like your building was in any danger, you were 6 stories above ground, but who are you to argue with an over-protective boyfriend? You feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He smells of body wash, his wet hair brushing against you as he kisses your neck. "Oh no, it's raining!" He nips at your shoulder with his teeth, "What will we do??" What started off as fake sincerity ends up in a devious rumble.

You turn in his arms to find him bare-chested, with a towel wrapped around his hips, "I have a few ideas, Mr. Russo."

*****

Billy

She licks down the skin of my abdomen, pausing to bite my scar at my hip. My hands clutch at my sides so i don't grip her hair to move her mouth to exactly where I want it to be. When she nuzzles my groin, her cheek brushing against my cock, I look down so I can watch her between my legs. The sight is almost more than i can handle.

As wet heat surrounds the head of my cock, I make a promise to myself that I will do everything in my power to convince this woman never to leave.

"Yes..." I hiss.

Her eyes peer up, and I'm entranced by the glide of her mouth over me. As she catches a rhythm, I lift my hips to match her movements. The gentle flicks of her tongue and the soft suction of her lips increase & her eyes flutter shut. Her obvious enjoyment along with the erotic sounds coming from her chest, turns me on.

"Stop, stop, stop, baby."

Her mouth slicks up one more time & releases me with a pop. She smiles & leans over me, her body now warm & pliant against mine. I grab her ass, molding & shaping her to me. She rubs up against me like a cat & takes my earlobe between her teeth. Heat streaks through me.

*****

Everything about Billy is beautiful. You suck little marks down his neck while reaching back, taking his cock in your hand. You sigh as you lower yourself, slowly taking him into you. Groaning in unison, you arch your back, resting your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. Billy's impatient. Patience was never one of his virtues. Hands gripping your waist, he shoves you down on his cock as he thrust up into you.

The burn from him stretching you, makes you cry out. He grabs your jaw bringing your mouth down to his for a hungry kiss, "Aw baby, you can take it." You nod. Billy always fills you so completely. "You're always so good to me, aren't you?" You ease up and sink yourself down on him again. "Beautiful. So, fucking beautiful." His hands are on your hips, but he lets you set the pace.

You start clenching down on him as you feel your orgasm quickly approaching. HIs hand travel up our torso, circling your throat as his other hand start playing with your clit. It throws your rhythm off & you moan. Your eyes flutter shut & the grip on your throat tightens & his thumb stops working its magic on your pussy. "Eyes on me!" Your eyes quickly meet his ebony gaze and a sob escapes you. Billy enjoys your fucked-out gaze. He loves that he can get you to this state.

Billy adjusts you on him so he can fuck up into you, hitting your gspot with every thrust. "Billy, please. Please."

"You want to come?"

"Yes, yes, yes" your chant matching his thrusts. Your eyes droop and there's a stinging slap to your outer thigh & you scream.

"Eyes on me!" Billy growls.

"That hurt!" You sink your nails into his chest. Billy hisses & laughs, flipping you both over so you're beneath him.

His thrusts are harder and faster as he captures your mouth with his. His tongue twisting with yours. "Sorry. I'll kiss it better." He gives you a devilish smile, slipping his hand between you, to rub your clit. "Now, sweetheart. Come for me."

Billy knows your body to well. The right amount of pressure has you withering beneath him, gasping as the pressure builds. "Fuck, Billy." The thickness of him as he pumped in and out of you brought you quickly to the edge, finally succumbing to your own body with a cry.

Feeling Billy's thrust quicken, you open your legs wider, raising your knees to grip his hips. Reflex takes over & he becomes frantic with his thrusts, pushing deeply, pouring himself into you.

He tries to move off of you, but your wrap your arms around him, "Don't move. You're warm." He collapses on top of you, peppering your neck & shoulders with kisses.

@she-likesorchids @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @e-dubbc11

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