#avengers cast x black reader

[rxmqnova]

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[thegirlwholovesficcharacters]

𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐇𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍 The Marvel cast x Org teen femreader!

Part 1: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Summary: ❝Rhiannon Hart's life as she used to know it was about to change. She was a young actress in progress from a small town in Minnesota playing small roles from a very young age, After months of her latest project, Rhiannon thought she would continue with her daily routine, concentrating on her studies and resting. Until her representative gets her an audition with Marvel Studios, for a new character. After her audition, Rhiannon didn't believe she could be selected to play the new character, until Kevin Faige contacts her to give her the good news...❞

Part 1 of a series. Words: 1.661 Warnings: Angs, fluffy, silly things. Bad parents. A lovely and supporting grandma. She is just a girl wanting to be something in her life. This fics is was created for fun, nothing serious, also this fics is set in 2015, before the filming of Captain America: Civil War.

Autor's note: Hi! English is not my first language, and I apologize if there are any grammatical errors, you may find translation errors since I have little knowledge of English and mostly use Google Translate. I was also planning to move the fanfic to A03, but maybe I'll do it later. It's a little short ,but i'm gonna try to do the next chapter a little longer.

Hope you like it!

Rihannon knew the process of every audition she had ever had in her life, each audition had led her to have a small role as an extra character who only appeared for a few minutes, or a secondary character who only appeared for a short period of time in several series or films, whether they are films on the small screen or recognized TV series.

But no audition compared to the one she was going to have right now.

It's not every day that your agent gets you an audition to play a new character in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Not much was known about the new character, apart from confirming that it was going to be a female character, the mysterious announcement about the casting for that new character had been announced the same day that Marvel confirmed that they had opened casting for a new Spider-Man interpreter, and that excited all the fans including rhiannon.

It had been confirmed that the new mysterious character and Spider-Man would have to be close to adolescence and that they would be something like a duo, a friendship that would form unexpectedly and not at all romantic, just platonic.

And that drove the fans crazy, forming theories about whether he was Black Cat or some villain or antihero from the Spider-Man universe.

But many fans corrected them by saying that the mysterious character could be a friend of Spider-Man and Peter Parker, based on what Marvel Studios announced.

Everyone had their suspicions and theories, and yet weeks after its announcement, Marvel still did not reveal anything.

Wiping the sweat from her hands on her flannel shirt, Rihannon stood in front of the door of the large building in front of her, her head unable to question herself and create scenarios of what could go wrong at her audition.

She loved his job, she loved the world of art and acting, but she never imagined auditioning for one of the largest film companies in the world. There was a second when she thought about leaving and not attending the audition.

But she couldn't.

Not after how hard her representative fought to get her an audition, knowing how much Rihannon loved the Marvel universe and her dream of being part of the Marvel family one day.

She couldn't disappoint her representative, neither her grandmother, and much less herself, she had worked very hard to get to where she was, it would just be one more audition, just like the other auditions she had had in the past.

Right?

Ignoring the small mess of nerves building up in her stomach, she took courage and opened the door to enter the large building, she stopped for a second to admire her surroundings, noticing the walls decorated with giant paintings from Marvel movies, several statues of the more iconic characters, she continued admiring until her bluish eyes found the silhouette of a woman sitting behind a desk.

Knowing that it was the receptionist, she grabbed the strap of her backpack and walked quickly towards the woman, feeling her nerves eating away at her for a moment.

Upon being in front of her, the receptionist, sensing a presence, looked away from her computer screen, and looked curiously at the young woman with blonde, curly hair, almost impressed by the deep blue color of her eyes, noticing her shy aura smiled kindly at the young teenager, rihannon returned the smile shyly.

━━Hello sweetie, how can I help you?━━She asked softly, Rihannon opened her mouth and closed it instantly when she felt nervous.

━━I-I, uh… I came for an audition, with Mr. and Mrs. Russo. My name is Rihannon Hart━━She spoke quickly, feeling her cheeks heat at her stutter. But that didn't seem to bother the woman, who just smiled sweetly and nodded.

━━Of course, you're on time. If you allow me, I'll make a call to notify the auditioners━━���At her words, the girl quickly nodded, letting the brown-haired woman do her job.

She stepped back from the desk a little while watching the receptionist pick up the phone and dial a number.

━━Hello, sir? Miss Rihannon Hart has arrived for her audition, should I tell her to wait in the room or…? Great, I'll tell her. See you later sir━━When she hung up, the receptionist smiled at her as she got up from her seat━━Mr. Russo said that you can come and audition now. I'll guide her to the audition room━━She speaks, Rihannon nodded following the woman from behind.

On her short walk to the elevator, Rihannon began to play with the rings that surrounded her fingers in an attempt to distract her nerves. On the one hand she was nervous at the idea of ​​giving a bad impression to the directors and on the other hand she was relieved to Having memorized the entire dialogue of her script, she had been day and night reviewing each word and practicing her lines with her grandmother that she was sure she would do well.

Well, her grandmother and representative were in charge of letting her know that she would do it well.

She was so deep in thought that if it weren't for the kind woman at the reception, she wouldn't realize that they had already reached the door of the audition room.

As soon as she opened the door, Rihannon followed her, from her place she could see the Russo brothers and Kevin Faige himself talking to each other, and she felt the tingling in her stomach reappear.

━━━Gentlemen, Miss Hart has arrived for her audition━━━The receptionist's voice caught the attention of the three men, as Rihannon saw them approach, a small smile formed on her lips.

━━Hello, a pleasure to meet you━━She said with a small smile and stretched out his hand towards them.

Both directors and the executive director smiled instantly, from her place Rihannon could see a small shine in the eyes of the three men in front of them, she avoided furrowing her eyebrows at the emotion in their eyes.

Anthony Russo was the first to shake his hand with hers, sporting a smiling smile.

━━━The pleasure is ours, miss hart. Your agent has told us a lot about you━━He commented almost excitedly when he had her in front of them, Joe and Kevin Feige nodded at his words.

━━I hope for good things━━She spoke in an attempt to joke, which made the three men laugh. Kevin Faige nodded without removing his smile.

“I promise you it was, Miss Hart,” he assured, earning a genuine smile from the girl.

━━Is it okay if we start with the audition? You can take a few minutes if you want━━Rihannon quickly denied before speaking.

━━No, I think I'm fine. But you can call me rihannon, of course if you don't mind━━She said.

━━Of course. I guess, Rihannon, you've already read the script━━Seeing her nod, Anthony Russo smiled with his brother━━Great, we'll guide you to where the test will be done.━━Obeying the directors, Rihannon said goodbye to the receptionist and smiled at the Seeing her murmurs a soft "good luck" with her two thumbs up.

━━So miss hart, your agent, alice. You told us about your latest work in Teen Wolf, right?━━In response to Feige's question, Rihannon smiled and nodded, remembering with adoration her participation in her favorite series.

━━Yes, my participation was short, but I enjoyed the experience━━She responded softly with a smile. Feige and the brothers looked at each other and smiled.

━━One of my daughters loves that series, and I must admit that they adore her character in the series━━Joe commented, making a small shine appear in the young actress's blue eyes.

━━Really? I'm glad that your daughter liked it━━A smile took over her when she knew that one of the director's daughters liked her performance in the series

She did not often hear adulation about her participation in Teen Wolf, given that her character only appeared for three episodes and then did not appear again. She had played a girl who was the daughter of a retired werewolf hunter, who saved Derek Hale of an enemy shooting him with a shotgun and joining the pack for a short time, her colleagues and director of the series had congratulated her for her work, and her skills in the few stunts she had performed at the time.

Her grandmother was the most excited to see her granddaughter in the series, as was her friend Lucy, but no one other than the two of them congratulated her except for a few classmates from her school.

Upon arriving at the testing area, Rihannon allowed herself to admire the place, observing in detail the black walls, the lights that hung from the ceiling and the lamps that surrounded the small recording set, in front of the set there was a camera and three seats , in which she assumed the brothers russo and kevin feige would be sitting.

Seeing the young woman admiring the set, the CEO approached her.

━━You can leave your backpack there, if you want. We'll start in a few minutes━━He pointed to one of the empty chairs not far from where they were, with a small nod, Rihannon thanked him with a small smile and walked away to rest his backpack on the chair.

After a few minutes, Rihannon was in front of the camera - still off - while the makeup artist finished her work before she could perform her audition.

━━Forgive me for saying this, but you look like a badass Barbie━━At the comment of the makeup artist, named Ruth, Rihannon let out a small laugh as she felt the corner of her lips rise upward.

━━Thank you?━━She dubiously acknowledged his compliment with a small smile on her face. When she finished, Ruth said goodbye to her with a small smile and wished her good luck.

━━Are you ready, Rihannon?━━Listening to one of the Russo brothers, Rihannon took a deep breath and then nodded.━━Great, the camera is already on and will start recording in 3…2…1━ ━━Seeing the red light of the camera, the teenager looked forward, feeling her facial expression become serious.

The first dialogue was heard through the voice of Kevin Faige.

And that dialogue would only be the beginning of everything.

[violetwinterwidow01]

With the help of Bing AI creator and my love for the boondocks, here is what I pictured what Cevyn would look like!

[jeonsblackgf-writes]

TAKING REQUESTS!!

I had the sudden need to wanna complete so my works from literal scratch so as of right now while i’m in the middle of thinking what to write, Im also taking requests on our favorite men 🤭 Yall know who they are. Send in your requests!

[starkwlkr]

Omfg I need like early on in the relationship between Hugh and marvel!reader where their relationship isn’t public and their papparazzi of them on set together coz they’re visiting eachother and everyone’s thinking xmen X mcu when in reality it’s just them together dating

no spoilers! | hugh jackman

an: ok since their first son was born in 2000 (it’s canon idk what date but it’s canon now lol) and the mcu started in 2008 I’m going to change a few things JUST TINY THINGS like the mcu being in development early on and marvel actress!reader being casted in the early 2000s. does that make sense?? idk this is fanfiction

2005

Getting a call from Marvel was something you never expected. Like many people, you grew up reading the comics and watching the tv shows. But now you had the chance of a lifetime. You were being offered a role in the first movie in the Marvel cinematic universe.

After having a meeting with the marvel executives and your manager, you were asked to keep the news of your casting a secret. The media was already wondering who was going to portray what heroes on the big screen and your name was being thrown around.

While your relationship was still a secret, you often visited Hugh on set of X-Men with Alex and Reese. You tried to keep your little family from the media as much a possible. You would watch Hugh get into his costume and do his stunts. You were always amazed at how much fun it would be to portray a superhero and now you were finally going to be able to.

A few months after you met with Marvel, you found out you were pregnant with your third baby. A girl. Thankfully you weren’t set to film yet since the film was still in development. When it was finally time to film ‘Iron Man’, you were more than ready. Your kids were a bit older so they finally got to watch you beat up bad guys like their dad did.

It was during the filming of ‘Iron Man 2’ when your secret was finally revealed to the world. You didn’t really know how it even happened . . . Your guess was that paparazzi somehow snuck in. Hugh was always careful when visiting you on set. Rumors were already circulating on the internet about a potential X-Men and Avengers team up. It didn’t help that Hugh was sporting his signature Wolverine hair when he visited the set. At least the kids weren’t with you.

“You look much better than me,” Hugh looked at your costume. He couldn’t stop staring, it was starting to make you weak in the knees. “at least you get comfortable suits. Remember the black suits from X-Men? The most uncomfortable shit ever.”

“The kids thought you looked cool.” You reminded him.

“Okay, that makes me feel better.”

As you and Hugh talked, some paparazzi were secretly taking photos. All they could think about was how well they were going to get paid for the exclusive photos. The X-Men joining the mcu? That was big news!

When the photos were published on every magazine, you couldn’t help but laugh. What a way to reveal your relationship. You definitely didn’t want to share the news this way, but you also didn’t want to lose your job.

“Maybe in a few years it’ll come true. You, me, X-Men and the Avengers.” He told you, giving you your morning coffee. The kids were still sleeping so you and Hugh took advantage of the quiet morning. You set the magazine down on the table and drank the coffee.

“It would be nice. Imagine what the kids will think. Mom and dad beating up the bad guys together,” you smiled at him. He took the opportunity to give you a kiss. As he pulled away, you whispered to him. “or it could be me kicking the wolverine’s ass.”

You and Hugh’s characters wouldn’t share the screen until 2024 when Deadpool & Wolverine premiered. Your kids were more than excited to see their parents fighting together.

@kellyxo1 @barnes70stark @ru-kru @flyestvenustrap @evasmlp

[huggingkoalas]

𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | natasha romanoff

pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ natasha comes home to find an intruder in her house. the encounter takes an unexpected turn as authority gives way to desire.

word count — ‧₊˚ 2.5k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ smut, roleplay, spanking, use of strap-ons, cockwarming, gunplay(?), ‘mommy’ kink, subspace/headspace, cursing, degradation, praising, teasing, pet names, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha

authors note — ‧₊˚ phew i might've gone too crazy for my first natasha romanoff fic, oops? hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it <3

As Natasha reached into her pocket, her fingers found the familiar shape of her keys. She unlocked the door to her house with the key, the weariness in her muscles evident as she used more force than usual. She yearned for nothing more than to take a soothing bath and a well-deserved night of sleep after a long day of doing post-mission briefings and reports at the Avengers compound.

As she stepped through the wooden frame and gently closed the door behind her, she effortlessly kicked off her boots and let them fall to the side. She slipped her black leather jacket off her shoulders and laid it temporarily over the back of the sofa. She yawned and massaged her right shoulder with her left arm, groaning as she pressed on the sensitive spot.

It had been another exhausting day. Despite her love for her job as an Avenger, she had to admit that the long missions and overwhelming workload had begun to take its toll on her. The only positive aspect of her job was the joy she brought to children’s faces every time they saw her and called her ‘my favourite hero’. Furthermore, Natasha earned more than enough money to buy a house away from the compound. As much as she liked her team, she favoured the peace of being alone after a long day.

Lost in her thoughts about work, she suddenly felt the cold night breeze whisper against her skin. A moment of confusion etched on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed as she realized the patio doors leading to her backyard were ajar, casting a shadow on the hardwood floors.

Had I forgotten to close it?

I swear I closed it before I left the house.

Natasha walked towards the patio door, closed it and turned the lock firmly. She was not the type to forget things easily. She couldn’t get rid of the persistent feeling that something wasn’t right.

Just as she was about to turn away from the patio door, she noticed a trail of muddy footprints leading into the house from the backyard. Her heart dropped as she realized someone had broken into her home while she was gone. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the intruder in the home with her at the very moment. With careful and silent steps, she traced the trail of prints with her eyes, leading her down the hallway.

Natasha slowly reached behind her back and pulled out her pistol from its concealed position in her waistband. Her mind raced, and adrenaline surged through her veins. Wrapping both her hands around the grip, her index finger rested on the trigger guard, pointing the gun at a slightly downward angle. 

She mentally prepared herself for any potential confrontation. She took a deep breath, her senses heightened, and cautiously continued to follow the muddy footprints. The trail led her to her master bedroom, the door firmly closed.

With her back pressed against the adjacent wall, Natasha listened intently for any movement beyond the door. She closed her eyes, straining her ears for any sound. A faint and muffled shuffling sound barely reached her ears. Just as she was open about to the door, she took a long breath, steeling herself for what lay beyond her.

“Freeze!” She called out, pushing the door open with a swift turn of the doorknob. Her voice was authoritative and firm as she stared at the intruder, her hands maintaining a firm grip on the pistol. 

Realization flashed across her face momentarily as she recognized the intruder’s face, though she masked it well. Caught off guard, you looked up with widened eyes as you saw Natasha pointing a gun at you. You raised your hands in mock surrender, standing tall with your head held high.

“It’s not what it looks like.” You tried to explain, steadying your nerves.

“Put your hands behind your back, now.” Natasha commanded, her tone unwavering as she ignored your attempts at explaining yourself.

You slowly lowered your hands and placed them behind your back. You didn’t seem daunted by the situation in the least. Natasha maintained a stern expression, lowering her pistol and holstering it back in her waistband. 

She stepped forward, her expression hinting at a momentary diversion of her thoughts. The dim light from the window accentuated your features, and she found herself momentarily captivated by your beauty. Her gaze lingered for an extra beat. She couldn’t deny that you looked mesmerizing and absolutely ravishing.

“What’s your name?” Natasha inquired, her tone assertive but curious.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” Natasha repeated. “You don’t seem afraid at all.”

She stopped in front of you. As you subtly shifted your stance, your hair cascaded gracefully over one shoulder, giving her a whiff of your sweet vanilla perfume. Tension lingered between you as you met her gaze through lowered lashes. 

Your eyes briefly travelled down, and you couldn’t help but notice a bulge between Natasha’s pants. A subtle swallow and a discreet bite of your bottom lip betrayed the mutual awareness of the heightened tension. You could see the impressive girth outlined through her pants. Her breath hitched as she saw the lust and need reflecting in your eyes.

“Face the wall.” Natasha ordered, ignoring the tension between the both of you.

A smile on your lips formed as an idea appeared in your head. You stepped closer to her, leaving no space between you two. You turned around, with your hands still behind your back, leaning back to press your ass to her groin.

“Guess you’ll have to arrest me like this, miss...?” You glanced over your shoulder, asking for her name.

“Natasha.” She responded with a shaky breath, her hands aching to grab your hips and press you against her. She tried to resist the urge to give in to her impulses, trying to maintain her professional demeanour.

Your breathing became laboured, your lips parting slightly. You reached behind your back and reached for Natasha’s bulge, feeling the outline of the strap-on. She groaned, a ‘fuck’ escaping her lips as she grabbed your hips and pressed your ass against her groin harder, giving in to the temptation.

“Such a fucking slut.” Natasha’s eyes were a mix of authority and desire. 

“N-Nat-” You knew she’d be hot and bothered by your actions, but-

She leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to your temple. “Shut up.” She whispered hotly in your ear. “Take your clothes off, now.”

You wasted no time removing your clothes, letting them fall around your legs as you kept your panties on. Natasha sat down on the edge of the king-size bed and patted her lap.

“Over my lap.” Her voice was void of emotion, and her words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You knew what was happening next and obeyed without saying a word, fear creeping into your stomach. Your stomach rested on her lap, your head and legs dangling beside her thighs. The rough fabric of her pants hitting your clothed folds made you shiver, your cheeks turning a bright shade of red.

She ran her hands over the curve of your ass, her touch light as a feather along the seam where flesh met lace. The delicacy of her touch caused goosebumps to form on your skin.

“I think you deserve ten spanks, don’t you agree?” Natasha retorted. It was a rhetorical question and you didn’t have the confidence to turn her down anyway.

She lifted your hips to push your panties down to your knees, trapping your thighs closed. Her hands, which had been so gentle a moment before, dug roughly into your ass, leaving crescent-shaped impressions on your skin. 

A powerful smack echoed, and you arched forward with the force of it against your ass. Natasha’s thumb rubbed over your red and sore cheek. You tried to keep track of how many smacks she had given you so far, but after the third smack, your thoughts became blank as you moaned uncontrollably. As much of a punishment as it was, you couldn’t deny that you liked it when she spanked you. Even your hips pushed into her hands during each blow. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now. Making a mess all over my thigh while I spank you like the naughty girl you are.” Natasha chuckled, finishing the last few blows on your bright red flesh. Taking a deep breath, you grit your teeth against the red-hot pain emanating from your ass.

“Such a good little slut for mommy.” She kneaded the supple flesh and leaned down to treat each of your cheeks to a kiss. “You did so well for me, good girl.”

You squirmed fruitlessly under her touch, whimpering as the sticky juices ran down your thighs. “M-Mommy..” You whispered, trying to angle your hips against her thigh to give yourself some pleasure.

“You’re not cumming on my thigh. On your knees for me, milaya devushka (sweet girl).” Her voice was honey-like, her hands gently scratching over your scalp. Her soothing touch lulled you slowly, and you hummed in response.

Releasing yourself from her lap, you knelt before her, her knees spread on either side of you. You steadfastly refused to acknowledge the pain beneath your flesh. The rough carpet dug into your knees, but the thought of obeying her was all that mattered to you.

Natasha stood up, quickly removing her clothes and tossing them aside. Your eyes looked up at her submissively, and your mouth salivated as your gaze fell on the strap-on around her waist. She sat back down, spreading her legs and pushing you closer to her body. Neither of you spoke, the room falling silent apart from the ticking sounds of the clock and steady breathing. She watches your body relax the longer you kneel for her, sensing the moment you slip into subspace. 

“Do you know what cockwarming is, detka (baby)?” You nod slowly and open your lips, darting your tongue out. Natasha guides her length between them, and you moan at the heaviness of it, resting your cheek against her thigh. Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes flutter shut. She watches you in your kneeling position, noticing your body swaying unconsciously.

She holds her body upright with an elbow behind her back, running her fingers through your hair. Your thighs ache, and your mouth is full of saliva, but eventually, you begin to relax into her.

“Good girl.” Natasha whispers, the praise slipping from her lips. She almost purrs with satisfaction as she feels you melt further into her. “So perfect for me.”

You don’t know how long you stay on your knees with her in your mouth. You whine as she begins to take your mouth from her, your fingers digging into her skin, trying to hold her in place as you swallow back her length.

“Shhh... It’s alright, you’ve done great.” Natasha smiles and brushes her thumb over your cheek. You let her pull you off of her and bring you into her lap. 

You tuck your face into her neck, whining as you slowly release from the subspace. You begin to realize yourself aching with emptiness, and you whimper as her strap brushes against the sensitive, soaked skin between your thighs. You begin rocking in her lap slowly.

“Shit, so wet for me, hmm?” Natasha drops her hands to your hips and lets you rut down against her lap, grunting as your breasts bounce in her face as you move. She leans down and sucks one between her lips, grazing her teeth against the hardening nub softly.

“P-Please, Mommy.” You whine, arching against her. She nods as she reaches between the both of you to wrap her hand around the silicone. Soaked in your arousal and saliva, the both of you moan as she presses the head of the strap-on into your entrance. 

Natasha cups your face and guides you into a kiss as she begins pressing inside, and you moan into her open mouth as she stretches you, the length thick and hard and hot as it sinks inside of you. 

“Fuck, dorogaya (sweetheart). You’re so tight for me.” She murmurs, and you’re heavily panting as you settle in her lap, her length nestled fully inside you.

Clenching the walls of your pussy a few times, you groan as Natasha holds your hips, raising you on your shaking legs before dropping you back down on her length.

“Nat, I need… Please…” You can’t find the word to explain the way your thighs shake from exertion, or how your whole body feels like fucking jelly, but Natasha knows, she always does.

“I’ve got you, malyshka (babygirl).” Natasha murmurs. You whimper as she wraps her hands around your thighs. She helps you rise and fall on her length, thrusting her hips up quickly and deeper to meet you as you fall back down. She kisses you, lips wet and hot as both of your bodies are covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You can’t seem to think of anything else past the haze of arousal.

“M-Mommy, I’m close.” You whimper, and she drops her mouth to your neck, her tongue and lips sucking and her teeth biting. She breathes hotly against your neck, against the mark she’s just made.

You whimper and drop your forehead onto her shoulder, closing your eyes and moistening your lips. You’re sliding along her sweaty skin as she fucks you hard and fast, her fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as she helps you rise and-

“Cum for me, moya lyubov’ (my love).” Your breath comes in short gasps as Natasha wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body as close to her as she can.  

“Oh God-” You moan and cum hard, your whole body shaking as she continues to fuck you, splitting you open. Natasha trembles beneath you as you writhe above her. Breathing sharply, she murmurs words of comfort and praise to you as you tremble in her arms, coming down from your high.

Natasha lifts you from her lap and lays you gently on the bed. You hiss as you feel a hint of pain as she slides off of you. She lies down next to you and looks at you, giggling as she looks at your face after your orgasm.

“Well, that was something. I never thought you’d have it in you to try out one of my fantasies.” You smile softly and turn your head towards her.

Natasha laughs, and the sweet sound echoes through the room. “Well, I want to please you, detka (baby). Did you like it?”

“Of course.” You reach forward to stroke her cheek and kiss her gently. Natasha pulls back and presses her forehead against yours, sighing in happiness. “Can't deny that it was really hot when you were acting all commanding and authoritative to me though.”

Natasha's shakes her head, smirking. “Alright, weirdo. Get some sleep.”

“Yes, Mommy.” You teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.

After a few minutes of synchronized breathing, exhaustion catches up to you. Your breathing slows down and you fall asleep. Natasha pulls the covers over you, snuggling against your side and splaying an arm across your waist.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” She whispers in your ear, a soft smile on her lips as she falls asleep next to her beloved.

[winterarmyy]

A Fucking Treasure

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: A date gone wrong? Same old, same old. But, having Bucky pinning her against the wall, now that’s new.

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.1k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, fingering, nipple play, marking kink(?), multiple orgasm, praise kink, dry wet humping, cum eating(?), p in v, going in raw, creampie and well you know me, i can’t write smut without some sort of angst or fluff, so yeah, body insecurities, super sweet bucky but also needy and insatiable bucky.

Inspiration: i was mentioned by @mercurial-chuckles in her Smutty September Fest post and some of the prompts fit nicely with one of my wip. Btw, thank you for tagging me! I feel included 💕

Prompt number: #5 body worshipping + #16 accidental i love you’s during sex

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Bucky’s footsteps were heavy as he made his way to the kitchen, but the quiet hum of the refrigerator was enough to mask the sound of his movements. The dim light from the hallway barely reached the living room, casting long shadows across the area.

It has been a routine for him to wake up in the middle of the night, the nightmares of his memories haunting his sleep, dragging him back into the darkest corners of his past. He was used to it. But tonight was different. There were no memories clawing at him, no ghosts whispering in his ear. Instead, his mind was consumed by thoughts of her.

He wished to hold her, to feel the warmth of her skin against his, to trace the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. He longed to pull her close, to bury his face in the crook of her neck and breathe in her scent, to hear the soft, steady rhythm of her breath as she slept beside him. The thought of it sent a shiver down his spine; a yearning so deep it bordered on desperation. 

So he decided to clear his head, avoiding letting his head stay in the gutter.

He let out a sigh, not one of sadness, but of suppressed desire, the kind that made his heart race and his cock stirred. As he reached for a glass, something caught his eye; a silhouette on the couch. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat when he recognized the figure lying there, motionless, as if the day had been too much to bear.

It was Y/N.

Confusion clouded his mind. She wasn’t supposed to be here. 

A few hours ago, she’d been dressed to kill, draped in that black satin dress that clung to her in all the right places. The sweetheart neckline framed her delicate collarbones; the softness of her cleavage was bare for him, and the high slit teased him with every step she took. He had admired her silently, his gaze dark with something he didn’t dare voice. The way the fabric had caressed her skin, the soft curve of her shoulders, the way the dress accentuated her body; he couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

She was breathtaking.

They had made eye contact, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. His gaze was feral, full of unspoken want, yet his lips remained sealed tight, trapping the words he wanted so desperately to say. If she had super hearing, she’d have heard the low, approving hum that rumbled deep in his throat. But then, the moment shattered. His heart broke a little when he heard her mention to Natasha that she was going on a date. The words were like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of him.

He had been sitting at the kitchen counter at that time, listening as Sam and Natasha hyped her up, teasing her about how lucky her date was going to be. Bucky stayed quiet, forcing himself to look away, fighting the jealousy that gnawed at him. It wasn’t fair; he had no right to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of her with someone else, someone who could give her everything he couldn’t; it was unbearable.

But now, she was here. Alone.

Sleeping on the couch in the same sinful dress that had driven him to distraction earlier. But the sight of her now was different. Her face was tear-streaked, her eyes puffy and red. It was clear she had been crying, and the sight of it twisted something deep within him.

Gently, he knelt to her level. He knew she was a light sleeper, so he approached with care, his metal fingers brushing softly against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, and the moment they met his, they were filled with a mixture of surprise and vulnerability.

Bucky's voice was a low murmur, intimate and tender. “What are you doing sleeping here, babydoll?”

Her cheeks reddened, the flush deepening as she realised he was seeing her at her most unfiltered state. The thought made her heart race, and the way he spoke, so close and personal, only made it worse. The intimacy of the moment was too much.

She gathered herself, sitting up with a sigh. “I didn’t plan to… I was just…” Her voice trailed off, and her expression softened into one of sadness as the memories of the evening came flooding back.

It had started off well enough. They had connected online, his messages charming and full of wit, making her think that maybe, just maybe; this could be something. But the moment she met him in person, she noticed a shift. The easy smile he’d worn in his profile pictures seemed a little tighter, the warmth in his eyes dimmed.

As they sat across from each other at the restaurant, she couldn’t ignore how his gaze kept drifting downwards. His eyes lingered a little too long on the exposed parts of her chest, his attention fixating on the stretch marks that she usually tried so hard to ignore. She had seen the change in his expression; the way his gaze hardened, a slight frown creasing his brow, followed by a low scowl that he probably thought she couldn’t hear.

Then, out of nowhere, he just left. No explanation, no goodbye; just a curt excuse about needing to use the restroom, and then he was gone, leaving her alone at the table with a half-finished meal and a hollow ache in her chest.

She knew why he left. She had seen that look before, the way his eyes lingered on her stretch marks, the way his expression shifted from interest to disdain. It was the same with most of the guys she went on dates with. The moment they saw the imperfections, they would withdraw, their interest waning before her very eyes.

She knew they hated the stretch marks on her skin, found them hideous. It was in the way their eyes would momentarily widen in surprise, followed by a barely concealed grimace. She could see the discomfort in their expressions, the way they quickly looked away as if trying to erase the image from their minds.

At first she always thought stretch marks were normal. It was human nature, a part of life, a testament to growth and change. She had tried to embrace them, reminding herself that they were natural, that everyone had imperfections. But each time she saw that look of disgust, it chipped away at her resolve, making her question everything she’d tried so hard to believe. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t normal. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to have them. Maybe there was something fundamentally wrong with her.

She didn’t even know how she got back home. The memory was a blur, a haze of tears and jumbled thoughts. She remembered crying, feeling the tears stream down her cheeks as she stumbled out of the restaurant. But the rest was an utter fog. Did she walk home? She couldn’t remember. The city lights and the sound of her own sobs were all that lingered in her mind. It was as if her body moved without her conscious thought, carrying her back to the one place where she didn’t have to pretend everything was okay.

Bucky waited, his eyes searching hers, but she remained silent, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. He could see the sadness lingering in her expression, and it didn’t take much for him to piece together that the date hadn’t gone well. A part of him was furious; how could anyone make her feel like this? She deserved to be cherished, not hurt. If it were him… if only she were his… He clenched his jaw at the thought, forcing himself to stay calm.

But, he knew better than to push her to talk about it. Instead, he simply reached out and took her hand in his, his touch gentle yet reassuring. “You must be tired. How about we get you to bed, hmm?” he said softly, his voice filled with a warmth that made her heart ache.

She nodded, still too caught up in her thoughts to speak. They walked in silence, Bucky leading the way while she followed just a step behind. Her eyes drifted down to their hands; knitly intertwined. His hand felt warm, comforting in a way that made her wish she could stay like this forever. The truth was, she didn’t even know why she kept trying to go out and date other men when the one she truly craved was right here, holding her hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

But then, the doubts crept in, as they always did. She was self-sabotaging, she knew that. She kept telling herself that she wasn’t good enough for him, that he could never truly want someone like her. Someone who didn’t have Natasha’s confidence, her grace, her perfect everything. Why would he look at her the way she longed for him to, when he could have someone like that?

Despite all her doubts, she couldn’t ignore the way his touch made her feel. 

Safe. 

Wanted.

Y/N almost bumped into Bucky’s back when he suddenly stopped. She blinked in surprise, realising they had already arrived at her room. “Oh, we’re here”, she thought to herself, feeling a strange mix of disappointment and relief. Bucky turned slightly, his gaze dropping to their still-intertwined hands before he gently led her to the door.

“Will you be alright, doll?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. His thumb moved in slow, comforting circles on the back of her hand, a gesture so natural it was almost as if he didn’t realise he was doing it.

She nodded, but her response was barely more than a whisper. “Yeah…”

She tried to sound convincing, but her voice wavered, betraying the turmoil swirling inside her. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and for a moment, she was caught in the warmth of his gaze. Bucky looked at her with such tenderness, such genuine care, that it made the butterflies flutter wildly within her.

Bucky took a step closer, closing the small distance between them. His free hand reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face with pure adoration. As he touched her, his fingers lingered slightly, savouring the softness of her skin. 

He took in every detail: her eyes, even puffy and red from crying, held a beauty that made his heart go mushy. The tears that had streaked down her cheeks were a testament to the raw emotion she was feeling, a vulnerability he wished to protect. Her skin was delicate, and the way her lashes brushed against her flushed cheeks. Despite the distress she was experiencing, she was still incredibly beautiful in his eyes.

Bucky’s gaze finally settled on her pink, pouty lips, he felt an overwhelming urge to press his own lips against hers, if not to comfort her, then to taste the sweetness that he imagined was there. The thought of kissing her once, just once; seemed to consume him. He couldn’t hold back any longer. “You’re gorgeous, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincere admiration, hoping to convey just how deeply he felt about her.

But Y/N’s reaction was not what he expected. The words, rather than warming her, seemed to chill her further. She didn’t think he was insulting her by blatantly lying to her face; she just couldn’t bring herself to believe that he truly meant it. It sounded to her like a polite gesture, just another way of saying something nice in the face of her misery; a form of lip service.

Her lips twisted into a small, almost imperceptible frown, and she quickly looked away, her gaze falling to the floor. It was as if her brain refused to process the sincerity in his tone, unable to reconcile his words with the image she had of herself.

She scoffed, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Yeah, thanks,” she said, unable to fully accept the compliment.

Bucky’s hand stilled on hers, his thumb halting its comforting motion as her response sank in. He was taken aback, not by any notion of insult, but by the realisation that she didn’t seem to believe the sincerity of his words. His brows furrowed with concern, and he stepped even closer, his body nearly touching hers. His hands came back to gently hold her face, tilting it up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“I mean it, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm yet tender. “You are beautiful. You always are.”

He searched her eyes, silently pleading with her to see herself through his eyes. His tone was unwavering, full of the affection he felt for her. 

But even as she looked into those blue eyes, the doubts that clouded her mind made it hard to fully accept his compliment. She couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that Bucky’s words were anything more than a kind attempt to cheer her up. The sincerity in his eyes was almost too much to process. Even if his compliments were meant to lift her spirits without fully reflecting his true feelings, she appreciated his kindness more than she could express.

A soft, fond smile appeared on her lips as she took in his earnest expression. “You’re so sweet,” she murmured, her voice tender. Gently, she stood on tiptoe, reaching up to pull him closer. With a delicate touch, she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Her lips lingered there for a brief moment, and she whispered against his skin, her breath warm, “Thank you for saying that, Bucky.”

Bucky’s heart pounded wildly in his chest as Y/N’s lips brushed against his cheek. The soft, lingering touch of her kiss, combined with the faint, intoxicating scent of her perfume, overwhelmed his senses. But when she pulled away, he felt a rush of heat flood through him, his control slipping. 

Overcome by an intense wave of feelings, Bucky pulled her back to him with a force and urgency that surprised even him. As he did, he could feel the warmth of her soft body pressing against his own, her delicate form moulding perfectly against him. He snuggled into the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet, intoxicating scent, which seemed to envelop him entirely.

His lips found her neck, and he kissed her with a fervour that spoke of his overwhelming need. Each kiss was infused with a deep, desperate longing that he could no longer contain. Y/N didn’t push him away; instead, she clung to him, her hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, as if seeking comfort and reassurance in his embrace. The contact between them was electric, and the soft moans that escaped her lips only fueled his desire further.

When she leaned in closer, a low, guttural growl escaped Bucky. He responded eagerly as he sucked gently on her skin, enjoying the taste of her as his hands roamed over her back and sides, his touch possessive and desperate. His palms pawed at every curve he could reach, exploring her with a need that bordered on frantic.

Y/N’s moan was soft, a sound that almost drove him further into the depths of his desire. But as the sound of her pleasure reached his ears, reality hit him like a splash of cold water. He realised what he had done; his actions were driven by raw, sinful need rather than the tenderness he had intended; that she deserved. The realisation struck him hard, making him feel as though he had somehow taken something that wasn’t his to claim. 

So he pulled away abruptly, his eyes wide with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he stammered, his voice heavy with contrition. “I didn’t mean—”

But then, it was as if time slowed, allowing him to savour every delicate moment. As he pulled away, the sight that greeted him was almost more than he could handle. The tiny strap of her dress had slipped from her shoulders, revealing even more of the gentle curve of her cleavage, her doe-like eyes were fixed on him; hazed and heavy with emotion, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, “Bucky…?”

The rush of desire he was so desperately trying to hold off, surged back through him, intensified by the vulnerability displayed before him. Bucky was barely able to maintain control. His heart raced, and the urge to be close to her again, to touch her, became nearly unbearable. In a moment of desperation and need, he guided her into her room, almost too urgent, too needy.

Once inside, Bucky pinned her gently against the door, his body pressing close to hers as he closed it with a soft click. His arms braced on either side of her, trapping her in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and electrified. The intensity in his gaze was palpable as he looked down at her, the hunger in his eyes undeniable.

“Fuck, babydoll,” he growled, his voice low and raw with yearning. “Please, let me touch you.”

His plea was a mix of desperation and want, a testament to how deeply he felt for her, even as he grappled with the boundaries he had momentarily crossed. The room was filled with an electrifying silence, broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing and the lingering intensity of the moment.

The voice she let out was almost too quiet, her tone tinged with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. “You want to touch me?” The question was almost a whisper, her eyes searching his ocean blues for the truth.

Bucky’s response was immediate, driven by the urgent need that surged through him. When his body responded faster than his words. He pressed his hardened bulge against her thigh, the physical evidence of his desire unmistakable. “Hmm, I wanna touch you, kiss you… want you so bad,” he murmured, his voice thick with desperation and lust.

Y/N’s breath hitched at the feeling of him against her, and her own passion began to match his intensity. “Touch me, Bucky,” she breathed out, her voice trembling with a mix of eagerness and anticipation. “Want you too. Want you all over me.”

His response was immediate. Bucky crashed his lips onto hers in a passionate kiss, their tongues dancing together as moans and groans filled the space between them. He effortlessly lifted her, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and carried her to the bed. The heat between them was unfiltered, and as he laid her down, his hands were already working to strip himself of his clothes.

With a sensual precision, he unzipped her dress, whispering praises against her skin. But as the fabric slipped from her shoulders, revealing more of her body, she hesitated. Her hands moved to cover her breasts, instinctively hiding the marks she had always felt so self-conscious about. The events of the night had taken their toll, and though she wanted to believe him, doubt crept in.

Bucky noticed the shift in her eyes, the uncertainty that dimmed her earlier confidence. He paused, his gaze softening as he gently coaxed her. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, doll,” he murmured, his voice tender and reassuring. “You’re safe with me.” his fingers tracing soothing patterns on her skin as he waited for her to continue.

She hesitated, then took a deep breath, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “It’s just… the stretch marks,” she confessed, her voice barely audible. “My date tonight, he left because of them. It’s happened before, and I—I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help feeling like they’re… ugly.”

Bucky’s heart twisted at her words, anger flaring briefly at the thought of anyone making her feel this way. But he forced himself to remain calm, to be the comfort she needed. His thumb brushed the underside of her breast, sending shivers down her spine as he tried to ease her worries. “Well, aren’t I lucky to have these all to myself?” he teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

She whined softly, her tone serious. “I’m being serious, Bucky.”

His expression sobered, his brow furrowing with concern. “So am I.”

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft yet firm, “...there is nothing ugly about you. Not your stretch marks, not anything. I’m so sorry those idiots couldn’t see that. But I do. And I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

He watched as her defences slowly crumbled, her eyes searching his; for any sign of insincerity, but finding none. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice wavering.

Bucky’s lips curled into a tender smile, “I’m very sure, Y/N. You have no idea how obsessed I am with you. All of you.” his hands gently pried hers away from her chest, revealing the parts of her that she wanted to hide the most. The sight before him made his cock twitch, arousal leaking from the tip as he took her in, completely captivated. “And these stretch marks?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper as his fingers traced over the marks on her skin. 

Y/N’s body responded instinctively. A shiver ran through her, her breath hitching at the sensation of his touch. The warmth of his hand contrasted with the coolness of the air, making her skin tingle where he caressed her. 

“Fuck, I love them.” His touch was reverent, almost worshipful, as he continued, “They’re proof of how your body adapts, changes, grows. It’s like your skin’s telling a story, and every line, every mark, is beautiful.” He pressed a kiss against one of the marks, his lips lingering as he added, “You’re a masterpiece, babydoll, every inch of you.” His words were heavy with pure hunger, his admiration clear as he looked up at her, eyes dark with passion.

Bucky's breath was warm against her skin, the contrast between his sweet words and the raw hunger in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. As he leaned in, his lips brushed softly over the stretch marks he had just praised, and then his kisses deepened, becoming more fervent. He trailed his mouth along the curve of her breast, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin before he began to suck, leaving his own mark on her as if staking a claim.

Her body responded instantly, arching toward him, a quiet whimper escaping her lips. The combination of his hot mouth on her breast and the cool metal of his fingers tracing circles on her other nipple sent shockwaves of pleasure through her. His metal thumb and index finger rolled the sensitive bud, each movement sending a jolt of sensation that made her gasp, her breaths coming in short, rapid bursts.

Bucky didn’t stop there. He switched sides, his tongue flicking over her other nipple before capturing it between his lips, sucking and nibbling in a way that made her toes curl. Every touch was deliberate, meant to drive her wild, and it was working. Her hands found their way into his hair, tugging gently as if to anchor herself to reality amid the whirlwind of pleasure he was creating.

As his mouth worshipped her breasts, his fleshed hand began a slow descent, sliding across her stomach and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When he reached the edge of her panties, he paused, revelling in the moment before pressing his flesh fingers against the soaked fabric. A low, approving growl rumbled in his chest as he felt how wet she was for him, the sound vibrating against her skin and making her moan louder.

He started to rub her clothed pussy with agonising slowness, applying just enough pressure to make her hips buck toward him, seeking more. His thumb found her clit through the fabric, rubbing slow circles that had her whimpering his name, her body begging for more of his touch. 

The dual sensations of his mouth and metal hand on her breasts and his warm fingers rubbing her pussy were too much. She was on fire, her entire body trembling under his touch, her mind lost in the addicting pleasure. Every nerve ending was alive with sensation, her moans growing louder as he increased the pressure, her body responding instinctively to the pleasure he was giving her.

Bucky, too, was lost in the moment. He groaned against her skin, the taste of her driving him insane. The way she reacted to his touch, the way she moaned his name, only fueled his desire. He needed more of her, needed to make her feel just how much he wanted her.

With a growl of pure need, he slid his hand under the waistband of her panties, and pulled the last piece of fabric off her. His fingers find her wet folds, slipping between them. "Fuck, babydoll, you're so wet for me,"  he murmured, his voice rough with passion. The way she responded to his touch only made him more desperate to worship every inch of her.

As his fingers moved inside her, Bucky’s thumb continued to circle her clit, the sensations pushing her closer and closer to the edge. His mouth and metal hand never left her breasts, continuing to tease her nipples until she was writhing beneath him. Her moans were desperate now, her body begging for release, and Bucky was more than happy to give it to her.

He pulled back for a moment, looking up at her with dark, adoring eyes. "You're so beautiful, Y/N," he whispered, pressing kisses along her chest. "I love the way you feel. Every part of you is perfect." His praises were soft, sincere, each word filled with pure admiration.

When he curled his fingers just right inside her, she arched off the bed, and he couldn’t help but marvel at her reaction. "Fuck, you’re incredible" he groaned, adding a second finger and feeling her tighten around him. “Love the way you taste, how you feel... hmmm, I need you so bad, Y/N” He was relentless yet tender, his every movement calculated to bring her to the edge of pleasure.

His lips found her breast again, tongue flicking over her nipple as he sucked and kissed her sensitive skin. His free hand never stopped caressing her, moving from her breast down to her stomach, then back to her other nipple, never leaving her wanting. "I wanna hear you scream for me, wanna feel you cum all over my fingers,” he growled between kisses, his words thick with arousal. 

Bucky’s thick fingers worked inside her with deliberate intensity, each thrust pushing deeper into her soaked core. He pumped his fingers in and out of her, his movements rhythmic and forceful. With each thrust, her wet juices squirted out, dripping and mixing with his harsh movements. The slick sound of his fingers sliding in and out, combined with the feeling of her arousal, drove him feral. His pace grew faster, his fingers curling and stroking with expert precision, drawing out her moans and cries of pleasure.

Y/N’s body responded to every touch, every word, her hips grinding against his hand as she chased the pleasure he was giving her. She was so close, so desperately close, and when Bucky twisted his fingers inside her, in places she never was able to reach before, and her world exploded in a blinding rush of pleasure. 

Bucky kept hitting that right spot inside her in every deep plunge of his fingers, until he could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling with the approach of her orgasm. His own need was growing unbearable, the taste of her nipples, the feel of her wet hole, driving him to the brink. He moaned against her breast, his voice thick with arousal as he told her how beautiful she was, how much he needed her, how much he loved the way she felt around him.

As her moans turned into desperate whimpers, he groaned in response. "That’s it, babydoll, let go for me. Let me feel how much you need this, need me," he urged, his voice thick with arousal. His thumb pressed harder against her clit, and his fingers pumped faster, pushing her closer and closer. “Cum for me yeah, fucking cum for me that’s it angel.”

“Buckyyyy”, She cried out his name, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she rode out the waves of ecstasy. Bucky groaned in response, feeling her tighten around his fingers, her pleasure only increasing make his cock throbbed with need.

He continued to move his hand, "So perfect. So fucking perfect." drawing out her orgasm until she was left panting, trembling beneath him. Only then did he finally pull his fingers from her, his hand wet with her arousal, and brought them to his lips, tasting her with a deep, satisfied groan.

Bucky’s own need was reaching a fever pitch, the taste of her, the feel of her soaking wet pussy gripping his fingers was too much to bear any longer. "Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you, can’t wait to make you mine," he moaned, his lips trailing down her body, leaving a path of hot kisses.

Bucky’s cock was almost unbearable as he pressed himself against her, his hard cock sliding between her drenched folds. Every night, he had fantasized about this moment, dreaming of the warmth and wetness of her body. So many nights, he’d ended up frustrated; his cum laid there wasted on his abs as he jerked off to thoughts of her.

Now, finally feeling her hot and wet against him, he was nearly driven mad with raging lust. He groaned softly, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps. His cock, heavy and throbbing, glided between her folds with a hunger that bordered on desperation. Each stroke elicited a shiver from her, her body sensitive and responsive from their earlier intimacy.

Bucky’s movements were urgent and almost primal. He humped against her, his moans a testament to his pleasure. “Fuck babyyy, you feel so amazing," he rasped, his breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. "You’re so fucking wet, Y/N. I’ve wanted this for so long, and it feels so. fucking. good."

Y/N’s has been a moaning mess under him, her body still tingling from the previous orgasm. The lingering sensations of his thick fingers inside her made every touch feel electric. Now, with his big, thick cock rubbing against her, her pussy twitched and pulsed in response.Each stroke was a jolt of heat, his tip bumping against her clit with every movement. Her hips trembled under his tight grip, her body reacting intensely to the pleasure.

Bucky’s moans were guttural, full of raw need as he lost himself in the sensation. "I’m not even inside you yet, angel," his cock rubbing insistently against her sensitive flesh as he panted, his voice trembling with desperation. "But, you feel so good, I’m gonna cum."

“Hmmm, Bucky… Bucky, please,” she whined, her voice trembling with need. “Feels so good… oh fuck! Cum on me, cum on me please...” Her words were almost incoherent, her pleasure overflowed from within, her body quivering and almost drooling from the way his cock was rubbing against her needy cunt.

Lost in his own world of lust, Bucky couldn’t get enough of her. He worshipped her pussy with a passion that left him breathless, his dirty talk coming out in desperate, needy groans. "You’re so fucking perfect, Y/N. I can’t get enough of you," he rasped. "You’re driving me insane. I want to mark you, claim you completely."

Their pleasure reached higher, each thrust and touch sending them both spiraling towards their orgasms. Bucky’s thrusts grew harsher, more insistent, as he chanted, “I’m cumming, doll. I’m cumming so hard.” His voice was raw with need, his body moving with a frenzied desire.

She was pleading, her voice a mix of desperation and pleasure. “Please, please, please…” Her words were breathless, each plea a testament to the intensity of their shared ecstasy. “I’m cumming, cumming on you baby, ‘m cummingg fuckkk,,”Bucky whined in absolute pleasure.

As they both came together, Bucky’s release was intense and overwhelming. His cock throbbed and twitched with every spasm, cum spilling endlessly from his tip in hot, thick ropes. Each pulse of his orgasm sent more of his seed dripping down onto her, coating her skin with the evidence of their union.

Even in the throes of his orgasm, Bucky continued to rub desperately against her twitching pussy, his movements frantic and unrelenting. “Still cumming for you, baby, paint you so pretty with my cum,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. The heat and friction were almost too much, his need to feel her and mark her as his luring him to continue. His cum painted a path up to her breasts, the warmth of it a vivid testament to his desire and dominance. 

He marked her completely, his release a physical declaration of his claim.

As Bucky’s release subsided, he looked down at her with eyes still feral and full of desire. She lay beneath him, breathing heavily, her body still quivering from the intensity of their climax. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “So gorgeous, covered with my cream,” he murmured, his voice rough and slow. He lazily rubbed his still-hard cock against her swollen pussy, his movements deliberate and teasing. “Now I’m gonna paint your insides, then fill you to the brim.”

Her whimpers of need were barely coherent. “Please, wanna feel your cum inside me so bad,” she begged, her voice trembling with craving.

Bucky slipped inside her easily, his cock finding its way with a smooth, satisfying glide. “So fuckin’ tight, shittt,” he groaned, feeling the exquisite heat of her around him. His thrusts were powerful and deep, each movement sending waves of pleasure through them both. “Tight little pussy’s mine,” he growled. “You take me so perfect, baby.”

His filthy words gradually transformed into sincere praise, his voice softening with affection. “You’re so good to me,” he panted, his hands exploring her body with tender care. One hand played with her clit, rubbing it with a skilled touch that made her moan and writhe beneath him. The other hand teased her nipple, tugging it gently as he thrust harder and deeper.

And as Bucky continued to thrust into her, the sound of their bodies connecting was raw and unrestrained, each movement accompanied by the slick, wet noises of their joined pleasure. Despite the intensity, their dialogue remained tender and sweet. “I love you, Y/N,” Bucky whispered lovingly, his voice a mix of pleasure and adoration. “I love you so much, doll.”

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Normally, such words would be met with doubt, but the way his cock was filling her completely, the intense pleasure he was giving her, and the look in his eyes—filled with an earnest, almost desperate longing—made it impossible to ignore. 

She moaned in response, her own voice trembling with emotion. “I love you too, Bucky,” she gasped, her words mingling with the sounds of their physical connection. 

Bucky’s thrusts grew more deep and harsh as he neared his climax. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Y/N,” he groaned, his hands rubbing a tight circle on her clit and tugging at her nipple. “Now, take my fucking cum.”

When Bucky finally released inside her, the sensation was nothing he ever felt before. He felt so good his eyes rolled back and his mouth fell open. His cock pulsing and throbbing with each spasm of his orgasm. His endless cream was flooding her, and with every thrust, it leaked out, creating a hot, sticky mess. The warmth and thickness of his release filled her completely, and the sensation of it escaping with each of his movements made him groan in pleasure.

Even as Bucky reached his high, he continued to fuck her through it, each thrust pushing his cum deeper into her. “You take me so well,” he moaned, his voice thick with emotion and need. Her own pleasure was amplified by the sensation of his cum inside her, her body responding eagerly to each thrust.

Afterward, Bucky remained inside her, relishing the intimate connection. He carefully cleaned the traces of his cum from her skin, his tongue gently licking and slurping it clean. “You’re perfect, babydoll,” he praised between licks, his voice soft and affectionate. “So beautiful, so fucking amazing.” He took his time, his lips brushing against her with care. “I’ve never felt anything like this,” he murmured. “You feel so good, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

She responded with soft moans and shivers of pleasure, her body reacting eagerly to his touches. Each lick and gentle caress made her quiver, her breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts as she felt his adoration and need. Her eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the sensation of being worshipped so completely.

Occasionally, Bucky would grind into her, savouring the way her pussy tightened around him, deepening his pleasure. “You’re such a fucking treasure,” he continued, his voice a blend of awe and desire. “I can’t get enough of you. You’re mine, and I’m never letting go.” She whimpered needily, her body responding to his movements with a mix of pleasure and longing.

He continued to move his hips against her, thrusting with a renewed sense of urgency and need. “It’s gonna be a long night ahead, baby,” he murmured, his voice filled with determination and passion. “I’m not gonna let you leave this bed until the only thing that leaks out of you is me.”

With that, he pressed into her once more, his movements both firm and tender, as he prepared for another round of intense, passionate connection.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Been collecting dust in my drafts for way too long. Now lemme hear your thoughts. Please? 🥹 And go send @mercurial-chuckles some love!

[http-shield]

you offering?- bucky barnes unhinged!avenger reader x bucky

a/n: this was the first draft of smash (in a loving way) which is why some lines are the same.

Moving day swiftly degenerated into chaos as more and more boxes were unloaded from the truck. Theoretically, Steve and Bucky should not have that many possessions, seeing as neither of them had lived very long lives in the new century; however, as box after box is carried in, you realise you couldn't be further off base.

Steve shouts down the hall, alerting you of their arrival (having smacked headfirst into you with a box full of record hours earlier, you had developed the system of very loudly announcing yourselves before walking into narrow spaces). You turn to the hallway, ready to semi-jokingly tell Steve off for all the free labour he had managed to squeeze of you, but your brain short circuits as Bucky walks in. The long-sleeved shirt had turned up in has long since been discarded. Instead, he is sporting a black tank top showcasing a stunning display of his muscled arms and shoulders. Unable to look away, you follow the veins along muscled forearms, sweat glistening in the afternoon sun, vibranium fingers humming as they glide over the tops of the box, his hair pulled back in a bun sitting low at the nape of his neck and those godforsaken strands that hang over his eyes leave you thinking about the way they would feel brushing over your thighs.

"You're drooling." You jump, startled by Steve's amused whisper, as he stands behind you, cast iron pot in his hands.

"Ha.Ha." The retort is weak, mind too preoccupied with thoughts of your friend to conjure a coherent sentence.

"Seriously. You gotta bit'a...." Steve wipes the side of his mouth with his thumb, smirk growing as he continues to tease.

"You need to get outta here before I punch you in the face." you whirl on him, warning through clenched teeth. "I will fight you, old man."

He backs away, raising his hands in defeat. "Kids these days, can't take a joke."

-----

An Ikea flatpack sits on the floor of the living room. The name and instructions unreadable as the three of your stare a the unbuilt couch frame.

"You bought a box?" Bucky turns to Steve, brows raised as he gestures to the floor.

"It's a sofa, Buck. We just need to build it." the former sighs, crouching down to examine the slip of paper it came with. "We just need to learn Swedish."

Bucky follows suit and squats, grumbling something about knowing 30 languages but unable to put together a stupid piece of furniture.

You debate joining them, adding a new brain to the equation, but as if it were your turn to take that single cell passed between the three of you, you reach for your laptop and begin your search.

30 minutes later, the frame is complete. The cushions, however, are nowhere to be found.

"Did you not order them?" you ask, eyes still trained on the screen as the two super soldiers stare at the incomplete project.

"I didn't know I was meant to!" Steve is quick to defend his mistake. "If you buy the couch, it comes with it."

It's not a completely irrational thought. It's common sense really. You buy a couch it must come with cushions, so why didn't this one?

Bucky sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So we have one bed and couch frame? Where am I meant to sleep, Steve?"

"You can sleep with me." You mumble as you scroll through ikea website, searching for the accompanying pillows.

"Is that you offering?" Bucky asks, and for a second, you are confused by the question, but as you look up from the screen, you find both men staring at you. Ah, the super hearing caused by the super serum. Super.

"Offering what?" you play dumb, biting down on the tip of your thumb, hoping he can't hear your heart slamming in your chest.

"Just thought you were offerin' to have me sleep with you but I guess I heard wrong." Bucky smirks and shrugs. "Guess ill have to take all this " he begins to flex, making an obvious show of his muscles. "and sleep on the floor."

You bite down on your finger in a futile attempt to hide the smile that is forming. "Guess so."

Bucky frowns, sad, wide puppy eyes staring at you. "Come on, doll. Don't make me beg."

Heat flashes through you and your heart picks up speed again. "You can beg for it, Barnes, doesn't mean I'll let ya' " your voice shakes a little, but you can hide it behind a smug chuckle.

Bucky's tongue darts out to wet his lips as he begins to retort but Steve's cough stops you both. The Captain's face is crinkled in disgust as he stares.

"Could you save this till I'm not in the room?"

[romugh]

CRIMSON DESIRES - NR

ROMUGH’S KINKTOBER

october 1st — knife play, gun play, blood kink

DAY ONE || kinktober masterlist || 2024.

pairing- avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!villain!reader

cw- 18+!!; dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!natasha, blood kink, knife play (and kink lol), gun play, strappie (n rcv), blowie (r rcv), daddy kink (oops?), humiliation kink, praise kink, filthy rough sex, bondage (light), carving (no pumpkin, sorry...), spanking (light), knife in a mouth??, natasha passing out!

wc- 12.702k :o

a/n- first kinktober fic (ever!!) :p beware of the warnings!! this is so long, purely because of the insanely descriptive style i have- SORRY. this is filthy, borderline crazy (imo. pls send help) now, in the name of the father, the son, and the holy strap-on, aWomen. have fun reading, dirty hornballs.

prompts- blood kink, knife play, gun play

synopsis- natasha makes you fail a mission. no matter how many times you've messed with hers, you never made her fail one. you're keen on making her understand what it's like to mess with you.

taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down

The door creaked as you stepped into the safehouse, the heavy thud of your boots echoing off the concrete walls. The dim light cast long, wavering shadows, flickering like dying embers, but it didn’t hide the figure sitting at the far side of the room. Even if she were wrapped in darkness, you'd recognize her anywhere. Natasha Romanoff—Black Widow—standing utterly still, her gaze like a blade, sharp and piercing, tracking your every movement.

She wasn’t surprised you’d found her. Maybe she’d wanted this, led you here on purpose. It didn’t matter. You weren’t here to figure out her motives.

You were here to teach her a lesson.

Your fingers danced with dangerous ease, twirling a knife in one hand, while the other lazily spun a gun around your knuckles. You moved with a slow, deliberate calm, every motion designed to remind Natasha who held the cards now. She could feel it, you knew she could. The tension in the room was thick, suffocating, wrapping around the both of you like a noose.

Still, beneath her stony exterior, there was something—a faint flush on her cheeks, the tiniest hitch in her breath when the cold metal gleamed in your hand. For someone who had been the cause of your mission’s failure, Natasha didn’t seem scared. If anything, she seemed… intrigued.

“No matter how many times I’ve screwed with your missions, I never made you fail one,” you bit out, voice low and simmering with restrained anger. Your eyes were dark, burning with an unspoken fury, the remnants of battle still fresh on your skin. Blood—yours or someone else’s—clung to your knuckles and dripped down your arm, staining the blade you spun so casually.

Natasha’s lips quirked into a smirk as you locked the door behind you, the soft click resonating like a loaded promise. Her eyes didn’t leave yours, even as they flitted between the weapons in your hands. The glint in her eyes wasn’t fear—it was something much more dangerous. Amusement. “You look like hell,” she muttered, leaning back against the wall with that familiar, infuriating smirk. Her tone was smooth, almost too calm, like she was the one in control here. Like you weren’t the one with a knife in your hand and a gun in the other.

"Rough day?"

The muscles in your jaw tightened. Her casual tone only fanned the flames of your frustration. “You made sure of that.”

Still, her eyes held yours, daring you to come closer. The defiance in her gaze made your pulse quicken with something dark and dangerous. She cocked her head, that smirk deepening, and for a split second, her confidence wavered, just a flicker, as her gaze dropped—briefly—back to the blade.

“I’m still standing, aren’t I?”

You took another step, narrowing the space between you, fully entering the room now. The air was electric, buzzing with tension, thick enough that every breath you took felt charged with the weight of it. She didn’t flinch, even as the knife twirled in your hand, its sharp edge catching the light as it arced through the air. But you didn’t miss the way her chest rose just a fraction faster, or how her eyes flickered toward the gun once again.

"You seem pretty pleased with yourself for someone who had to run to a safehouse." Your voice was a dangerous mix of sarcasm and venom, low and tight as you stared her down. "Maybe you were waiting for me. You’ve always been a little slow.”

Natasha’s lips twitched into that same cocky grin, eyes flashing with mischief. “Maybe I was just waiting for you to catch up.” The bite in her voice was enough to cut through the tension like a knife, but the bravado was slipping. She wasn’t as composed as she wanted to seem. Not with the way your knife danced in your hand, inching closer.

Before you knew it, the gap between you had closed, so close that you could feel the heat from her skin, smell the faint traces of sweat and adrenaline lingering on her. She tilted her head up, defiance still sparking in her green eyes, lips curled in a half-smile, daring you to do something, anything.

"Slow?" you echoed, voice soft, almost a whisper as you lifted the knife to her cheek, the edge of the blade grazing her skin with a featherlight touch. Natasha tensed, just for a moment, her bravado faltering under the cold kiss of steel. "Are you sure about that?"

Her breath hitched, barely perceptible, but you noticed it. She swallowed hard, the smirk slipping just enough for you to see the doubt flicker in her eyes. It was brief, but it was there.

"If you were any faster," she said, voice tight, "maybe I wouldn’t have gotten away so easily." Her words were laced with arrogance, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her. Her eyes stayed fixed on the knife, even as her mouth continued to push, to test your patience.

You leaned in, letting the blade dip lower, teasing at the soft skin of her throat. The warmth of her pulse beat beneath the steel, and you could feel the way it quickened under your touch. Her breath hitched again, and this time, she didn’t hide it.

"Maybe you wanted to be caught." Your voice was a soft murmur, your chest brushing hers as you pressed in closer, the knife trailing a delicate line down her throat, leaving the faintest scratch. Just enough to leave a mark, a lingering reminder of the unspoken control that hung between you both.

Natasha's smirk faltered, her lips parting as her breath came quicker, the tension palpable. "Maybe," she whispered, her voice cracking, betraying the confidence she so desperately clung to.

Before she could even react, you moved, fast as lightning, arm snaking around her neck, turning her around and yanking her back against your chest. The knife hovered at her throat, the cool steel pressing just hard enough to keep her still, your other hand pressing the gun against her temple. Her body tensed, muscles coiling like a spring, but she didn’t resist. Not yet.

Her breathing was shallow now, chest heaving, but she didn’t break. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, smirking even through the rapid beat of her pulse. “Is this supposed to scare me?”

You chuckled darkly, the sound low and dangerous. The gun pressed harder against her temple. “It should.”

Natasha’s breath hitched, but she kept pushing, her voice turning playful, bratty even, as she tilted her head, lips brushing your jawline as she whispered, “I thought you’d be more creative than this.”

Your jaw clenched, and in response, the knife pressed into her skin just enough for a thin line of blood to bead against the blade. Natasha gasped softly, her lips parting, a flicker of something like excitement flashing in her eyes. Her bravado cracked further, but she still had the nerve to smile up at you, that infuriating grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Guess I’ll just have to try harder," you whispered, a slow, deliberate smile creeping across your face.

The room’s atmosphere thickened with a tension that bordered on palpable as you held Natasha in place. The edge of your blade still kissed the smooth skin of her throat, a faint, thin line of red left in its wake—a promise of what could come if she pushed too far. Her pulse fluttered wildly beneath your touch, betraying her composure despite the defiant smirk still tugging at the corners of her lips.

Her body was taut, wound tight like a spring on the verge of snapping, but she didn’t move. She could fight you. The Black Widow wasn't a woman who accepted submission easily. It wasn’t in her nature to yield. But here, in this moment, you could feel it: the battle waging inside her. The tension between defiance and desire, the need to prove she wasn’t under your control warring with the subtle pull of something darker.

“You think I’ll break?” she breathed, her voice still carrying that cocky bravado, though there was a tremor beneath it now. Her gaze flicked back to the knife, then to your eyes. The bravado was wearing thin, the cracks showing through her facade.

You didn’t answer. Instead, your grip tightened around her, your arm a firm anchor across her waist as you pressed her body harder against yours. She gasped—soft, involuntary—but still, she didn’t pull away. Her lips parted slightly, the breath catching in her throat as she tried to steady herself. For a moment, she was silent, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.

"Natasha," you murmured, your voice a low, dangerous whisper against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “You’ve always been so stubborn, so hard to crack. But deep down, I think you want this.”

Her smirk faltered, the weight of your words settling heavily between you. Her breathing quickened, and her gaze flicked up to meet yours again—this time, there was something different in her eyes. A flicker of uncertainty. And something darker: anticipation. But she fought it, even now. Her lips parted as if she were going to speak, to throw another biting retort your way, but you moved before she had the chance.

In one swift motion, you shifted the knife away from her throat and grabbed her chin, your fingers firm as they dug into her jaw, forcing her head to tilt back against your collarbone. Natasha gasped, her eyes widening, but she didn’t resist. Her breath came in short, sharp bursts as your thumb brushed over her bottom lip, the pad of your finger grazing the softness there before pushing between her lips.

She tensed beneath your touch, her body rigid as you applied pressure, coaxing her mouth open. “Bite me, and you’ll regret it,” you warned softly, your voice laced with menace.

Natasha’s eyes darkened, a silent challenge in them as her teeth grazed your thumb—just a light, teasing scrape. She wouldn’t bite. Not yet. But she wanted you to know she could.

You pulled you thumb back, only to force two fingers past her lips, pushing them deeper into her mouth. Her eyes fluttered for a brief moment before they snapped back to yours, wide and startled. Her tongue twitched beneath your fingers, her breath hot and shallow as you pressed further in, nearly to the back of her throat. She gagged slightly, her lips closing reflexively around your knuckles, but she didn’t pull away.

“You’re going to learn how to submit,” you murmured, your voice low and commanding as you curled your fingers slightly, pressing them against her tongue. “And you’re going to do it on my terms.”

Natasha’s eyes blazed with a mix of defiance and something else—something primal, instinctual. She tried to hold your gaze, to maintain that air of control, but the way her body twitched beneath your touch betrayed her. She didn’t pull away, though. Her lips stayed wrapped around your fingers, her tongue swirling against them involuntarily, and her chest heaved with shallow breaths.

The battle inside her was visible now. The part of her that fought for control, that craved power, versus the part of her that wanted—needed—this. To let go. To give in. The struggle was written in every tense muscle, every quickened breath.

But you weren’t going to give her a choice.

"Open wider," you commanded, your voice firm as you pressed your fingers against her tongue, feeling the warmth and wetness of it as she obeyed, her lips parting further to accommodate you. Her breath hitched, and you could feel the slight tremor in her body, the way her chest rose and fell with increasing rapidity.

Her mouth stretched around your fingers, her teeth grazing the skin but never clamping down. She was fighting it, but not hard enough. And you knew—knew—that the more you pushed, the more she'd cave. You could see it in the way her lashes fluttered, in the faint flush creeping up her neck. Natasha was balancing on the edge of giving in, and it wouldn’t take much to tip her over.

“Good girl,” you whispered, the praise dripping from your lips like honey, thick and saccharine, just enough to make her shiver. Her eyes flashed, the defiance cracking just for a moment as a faint moan escaped her, muffled around your fingers.

She hated that. You could see it in the way her body tensed, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. She wasn’t supposed to like this—wasn’t supposed to want it. But the truth was undeniable, written in the way her body reacted, in the way she swallowed hard around your fingers, her lips trembling as she fought to regain control.

But you weren’t going to let her.

You pushed harder, curling your fingers slightly as you pressed them deeper into her mouth, her tongue pressing helplessly against your palm. Natasha’s eyes squeezed shut, her breath coming in quick, shallow pants through her nose as she gagged again, her body instinctively trying to pull back. But your grip on her chin was firm, unyielding, and she had no choice but to take it.

“Relax,” you commanded softly, your voice low and soothing despite the roughness of your actions. “You can take it.”

Her eyes fluttered open, a mixture of anger and desperation swirling in those green depths as she met your gaze once more. Her body was trembling now, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she breathed deeply through her nose, her chest heaving as she tried to adjust, to comply.

Slowly, you withdrew your fingers, watching as her lips clung to them, a trail of saliva connecting her mouth to your hand as you pulled away. Natasha’s breath came in ragged gasps, her cheeks flushed, lips swollen and glistening in the dim light. But even now, even as her body betrayed her, she refused to admit defeat.

“You’re enjoying this more than you’re willing to admit,” you murmured, your voice low and dangerous as you traced her bottom lip with the tip of your thumb. Natasha’s eyes flashed again, but she didn’t respond. Her breath was shallow, quick, and her chest rose and fell with each ragged inhale.

Before she could recover, you grabbed her wrist, yanking her to her feet. Natasha stumbled, her knees weak from the sudden movement, but you held her firmly, spinning her around and pressing her chest against the nearest wall. She gasped, her palms flat against the cold, hard surface, her breath hitching as you pinned her there, your body flush against hers.

You leaned in close, your breath hot against the nape of her neck. “You can fight all you want,” you whispered, your lips brushing her ear. “But we both know you’re going to submit.”

Natasha’s breath came in short, shallow pants as she pressed her cheek against the wall, her body trembling beneath yours. Still, she fought—her muscles tense, her hands clenching into fists against the wall—but it was a losing battle. You could feel the way her body responded to your touch, the way her breath hitched with every word, every command.

Your hand slid down her side, fingers tracing the curve of her waist before dipping lower, gripping the swell of her hip as you pressed her harder against the wall. Natasha groaned softly, her breath ragged as she tried to maintain control, but you weren’t giving her the chance.

Your gaze trailed down the length of her body, admiring how the tight black combat suit clung to Natasha's every curve, perfectly tailored to fit the lithe, muscular frame beneath. The material stretched across her hips and thighs, emphasising her toned legs and the soft, subtle curve of her backside. Even in her defiance, she was a sight to behold—dangerous and beautiful, an intoxicating combination.

You shifted your grip on her, pulling her back slightly from the wall as your free hand skimmed down her waist, fingers brushing the zipper of her suit. Natasha’s breath hitched, her body stiffening as you toyed with the idea of unzipping her. But that would be too easy—too merciful. No, you wanted to make this slow. Draw it out. You wanted to see her squirm, to hear her breaths come quicker with each deliberate slice of control slipping from her grasp.

Slowly, methodically, you brought the knife back up, letting the cold steel trail lightly over the smooth fabric stretched taut against her waist. Natasha flinched, her muscles tensing at the touch, but she didn’t pull away. Her breaths came in shallow, rapid bursts now, her heartbeat racing against the pulse point in her throat where the tip of your knife had hovered minutes before.

"Don’t move," you ordered softly, your voice low and dangerous. The blade glinted in the dim light as you brought it to the zipper of her combat suit, hovering there for a heartbeat—a silent threat.

Natasha swallowed hard, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes darted down to the knife, then back up to meet your gaze. There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of something vulnerable behind her defiant stare. But she stayed still. Good.

You smirked and dragged the blade down the zipper, the metal teeth parting with a soft, satisfying sound as you revealed a sliver of skin beneath. The cool air hit her exposed flesh, and Natasha shivered involuntarily, her breath hitching as the coldness kissed the small curve of her abdomen. But this was only the beginning.

Carefully, with agonising slowness, you trailed the knife lower, pressing the flat side of the blade against her skin as it skimmed over her hip bones. The material of her suit parted easily beneath your touch, splitting open inch by inch to reveal more of her body—taut muscles and soft, pale skin beneath the rigid exterior of the Black Widow.

You paused just below her navel, enjoying the way her chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, the anticipation building in her every movement. Her hands, which had been clenched into fists moments before, now lay flat against the wall again, fingers twitching slightly as she tried to control the growing tension in her body.

"Is this what you’re afraid of?" you murmured, letting the edge of the blade trail lower, dangerously close to the seam between her legs. "Losing control?"

Natasha didn’t answer. But the way her body trembled beneath your touch told you everything you needed to know.

With a swift flick of your wrist, you brought the blade back up, slicing through the thin fabric of her suit along her thighs, cutting it open with precision. The sound of the tearing material echoed in the room, sharp and satisfying. Natasha gasped, her breath catching in her throat as the cool air hit her skin, now exposed in the open slits you had created along her thighs.

The suit peeled away easily under the knife’s edge, and you were slow—so, so slow—as you tugged the fabric apart, watching as the tight material that had once encased her legs fell away in pieces, leaving her bare and vulnerable beneath you. You could feel the tension in her body now, the way her muscles coiled tight with each deliberate movement you made, the way her breath quickened, betraying her growing anticipation.

"You wear this like armour," you whispered, pressing the tip of the blade lightly against the curve of her inner thigh, just enough to make her feel it without breaking the skin. Natasha shuddered beneath the pressure, her breath coming in ragged bursts. "But it’s nothing more than a disguise, isn’t it? A way to keep people out."

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t, not with the way your touch burned through her defences, peeling away layer after layer of the carefully constructed walls she had built around herself. The suit that had once made her untouchable, impenetrable, was now nothing more than a shredded pile of fabric at her feet, leaving her exposed to you in a way she had never allowed herself to be before.

Your free hand slid between her legs, fingers brushing over the bare skin now exposed to you. Natasha gasped, her body jerking slightly at the contact, but you held her firmly in place, your grip tightening around her waist as your fingers pressed harder against her inner thigh. Her skin was soft, impossibly smooth beneath your touch, and you could feel the heat radiating from her core, could feel the slickness gathering between her legs.

You leaned in close, your breath hot against the back of her neck as you whispered, "You’re soaked."

A choked sound escaped her throat—something between a whimper and a gasp—as your fingers slid up, tracing the line of wetness that had already started to pool between her thighs. Natasha’s body tensed beneath you, her head tilting back slightly as she let out a ragged breath, her chest heaving as she fought to keep control.

But she was losing. Fast.

Your knife trailed up her side now, pressing lightly against her ribs as you leaned in, your lips brushing the shell of her ear. "What are you trying to hide, Natasha?" you whispered, your voice a low, dangerous growl. "What are you so afraid of, then?"

Natasha’s breath hitched, her eyes squeezing shut as she bit down hard on her bottom lip. She was trembling now, her body betraying her in ways she couldn’t control, couldn’t stop. And you knew that despite her defiance, despite the stubborn refusal to submit, there was a part of her that craved this. Craved the loss of control. Craved the freedom that came with letting go.

With deliberate, measured movements, you brought the knife back up to her chest, the blade grazing the soft swell of her breasts through the torn fabric of her suit. Natasha gasped, her breath catching in her throat as the cold steel pressed against her skin. You could see the way her nipples hardened beneath the touch, straining against the ruined fabric of her suit, desperate for more.

“You’ll submit,” you whispered, your voice thick with promise.

Natasha’s breath came in ragged gasps, her body quaking beneath you as you stood back, admiring your handiwork. She was beautiful like this—vulnerable, exposed, but still defiant, still fighting the inevitable. Her chest heaved with every breath, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat, and her eyes—those green, fiery eyes—were still locked onto yours, a silent challenge burning within them.

But she couldn’t hide the way her body responded to your touch, couldn’t hide the slickness that coated her thighs, the tremble in her legs as she stood there, stripped almost bare before you. She was teetering on the edge now, her control slipping with every passing second, every deliberate touch you made.

The room was thick with tension, the weight of it pressing down on Natasha as she stood before you, stripped of her combat suit and left bare, her breath ragged, her body trembling with a mix of defiance and need. You could see it in her eyes—the internal battle waging inside her. She wanted to give in, to let you take her, but the fear of losing control, of submitting entirely, gnawed at her, pulling her back from the edge.

Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides, and you knew she was slipping. The insecurity, the fear—it was creeping back in, threatening to overwhelm her again. But you weren’t going to let that happen. You had her right where you wanted her, and you weren’t about to let her slip through your fingers.

Without warning, you gripped her arm and spun her around, pressing her back roughly against the wall. Natasha gasped, her body jerking as her back hit the cold surface, and for a moment, her resistance flared again. She pushed back against you, her muscles tensing, trying to reclaim some semblance of control. But it was futile. You were stronger right now, more determined, and you could feel the tremor of hesitation in her movements.

Her struggle was brief but intense, her instincts driving her to fight back even as her body betrayed her, melting under your touch. You could see it in the way her hands pressed against the wall, the tension in her shoulders, the way her legs trembled beneath her—she was fighting, yes, but she was losing.

"You want to resist?" you murmured darkly against her ear, your hands tightening around her wrists, pinning them firmly against the wall. "You think you can fight me?"

Natasha growled low in her throat, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as she tried to twist out of your grip, her body writhing against yours. But the harder she fought, the more control you took, your grip tightening, your body pressing harder against hers, until she was trapped—helpless beneath your hold.

"Get on your knees," you commanded, your voice a sharp, authoritative growl.

For a brief moment, she hesitated, her defiance flaring up once more, her jaw clenched as she stared at you with burning green eyes. But the hesitation was all you needed. With a firm push, you guided her down, forcing her to her knees before you. Natasha stumbled slightly, her hands hitting the floor as she knelt there, panting, her chest heaving with the effort of resisting you.

But even now, on her knees, there was still a fire in her eyes—a stubborn refusal to submit completely, despite how her body reacted to your dominance. She wanted this. You could feel it, but the mental battle within her raged on, pulling her back, keeping her from surrendering fully.

You knelt down in front of her, gripping her chin firmly and tilting her head up so her eyes were locked onto yours. Her lips were parted, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you leaned in close, your thumb brushing over her bottom lip again before slipping the same two fingers into her mouth once more.

Natasha’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she tried to pull back, her instinctive resistance flaring again. But you were quicker, firmer. Your fingers pressed deeper, forcing her mouth open, and you could feel the tension in her jaw as she struggled to push you away, the conflict between her mind and body tearing at her.

"Submit," you growled softly, your voice dark and commanding as you pushed your fingers deeper, forcing her to take them. "Stop fighting me."

She whimpered around your fingers, her eyes squeezing shut as she struggled to regain control, her hands gripping the floor beneath her. But you didn’t give her the chance. With a sharp tug, you pulled your fingers free, leaving her breathless and trembling before you.

“You can’t hide anymore, Natasha. Not from me.”

Her breathing was ragged, her body still tense with resistance, but it wasn’t enough to stop you. You could see it now—her insecurity, her fear of losing herself completely in this moment. She was trying so hard to keep control, to keep some part of herself guarded. But that was about to change.

Without a word, you stood and moved to the side, pulling a length of rope from the drawer nearby. Natasha’s eyes followed you warily, the tension in her body rising again as she realised what was about to happen.

She shook her head slightly, her breath hitching as she tried to push herself up, her muscles coiling as if to fight back once more. But you were on her before she could even fully rise, your hand gripping her shoulder and pushing her back down onto her knees. She let out a sharp gasp, her eyes wide, her body trembling as you loomed over her.

"You don’t get to decide anymore," you said, your voice low and dangerous, as you looped the rope around her wrists, binding them tightly behind her back. Natasha’s breath came in quick, shallow bursts, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to process what was happening. She pulled at the bindings, testing them, but there was no escape. You made sure of that. 

And somehow, she absolutely loved that.

Her breathing became more erratic as the reality of her situation set in, and you could feel the tremor of anticipation racing through her body as you secured the knot, leaving her bound and helpless at your feet.

"You think you can fight me?" you taunted, stepping back slightly to admire the sight before you. Natasha, the Black Widow, knelt on the floor, her hands bound behind her back, her chest heaving with every ragged breath as she tried to regain control. But there was no control left. Not for her.

Her eyes flicked up to yours, wide and filled with something raw—something vulnerable. She was still fighting, still trying to hold onto that last shred of defiance. But it was slipping, fast.

You crouched down in front of her again, your hand gripping her chin roughly, forcing her to meet your gaze. Her lips parted, a soft whimper escaping as your thumb brushed over them, teasing her, taunting her.

"Let go," you whispered, your voice softer now, but no less commanding. "I want to see you submit."

Her breath hitched, her eyes squeezing shut as if to block out the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. But there was no escape from this—not anymore. You could feel the way her body responded to you, the way her thighs clenched together, her breathing growing heavier as she teetered on the edge of surrender.

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear as you whispered, "I’m going to take everything from you, Natasha. And you’re going to beg me for it."

Natasha shuddered, her body trembling beneath your words. You could see the cracks forming in her resolve, the walls she had built around herself starting to crumble. She was on the verge now, teetering between defiance and submission, and it was only a matter of time before she fell.

Your fingers slid down her neck, trailing over the curve of her shoulders as you admired the way her body reacted to every touch, every word. She was beautiful like this—vulnerable, exposed, but still fighting, still trying to hold onto that last piece of control.

The room felt charged, the air heavy with anticipation as Natasha stayed put before you. Her body trembled as she struggled against her instinct to fight. But you were far from done with her—if she wanted to resist, you'd give her something to truly surrender to.

Without warning, you got up and drew your knife again. The glint of the blade caught the low light, reflecting in Natasha’s wide eyes as you crouched back down in front of her. Her gaze locked onto the knife, a flicker of both wariness and something else crossing her face. She was trying to hide it, but you could see it—the way her lips parted, the slight tremor in her hands as they rested, bound behind her back. It was a desire.

You smirked, the weight of your control sinking in as you brought the flat side of the blade to her lips, pressing it gently against her mouth. Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling erratically as her eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, as if trying to escape the reality of the cold steel against her skin.

"Open," you ordered, your voice low and commanding.

She hesitated, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. There was still a fire in her gaze, a last vestige of defiance she hadn’t yet let go of. But the sharp edge of the knife against her lips was enough to make her submit, even if just for a moment.

Slowly, tentatively, Natasha parted her lips. You pressed the flat of the blade further into her mouth, forcing it between her teeth. Her jaw tensed, and for a brief second, she tried to pull back, but you held her firmly in place, your hand gripping the back of her head as you pushed the blade deeper.

"Stop fighting me," you growled, your thumb brushing along her cheek as the cold steel glided against her tongue.

Her eyes fluttered shut again, a soft whimper escaping her throat as she surrendered to the weight of the knife in her mouth, her lips wrapping around the metal. You could feel her hesitation, the way her body tensed as if ready to pull away at any moment. But the control was yours, and she was helpless against it.

"That’s better," you murmured, dragging the blade slowly out of her mouth, watching the way her lips quivered as they followed the movement of the steel. Her eyes opened again, dazed and full of conflict, but the fire was dimming. The battle within her was fading.

Without another word, you tilted her chin up once more, forcing her to meet your gaze. Her breath was shallow, her pupils blown wide with a mixture of fear and lust. You could see the cracks forming, her resistance weakening with every second that passed.

"Still think you can fight me?" you asked, your tone sharp as you pressed the knife’s blunt edge against her neck, just enough for her to feel the cold sting of the metal.

Natasha’s breath hitched, her body freezing under the blade’s pressure. Her lips parted, but no words came out, only a soft, choked sound as her eyes fluttered, her pulse quickening beneath the knife. The weight of your dominance settled over her like a heavy cloak, and she could feel it wrap around her like a warm blanket, bit by bit.

"You don’t get to decide anymore, Natasha," you whispered, your voice laced with dark intent as you trailed the knife slowly down her throat, the blade dragging over her skin, leaving a burning trail of sensation in its wake.

Her body shuddered, her knees trembling beneath her as she struggled to stay upright. But the fight was leaving her. You could see it in the way her shoulders slumped, in the way her head tilted slightly to the side, exposing more of her neck to the blade’s caress.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear as you whispered, "I could take everything from you right now, and you would beg me for it."

A soft, broken sound escaped her throat—a whimper, barely audible, but enough to let you know you had her. Completely. The Black Widow, kneeling at your feet, bound and trembling, her body reacting to the dangerous game you were playing. But it wasn’t just the fear driving her anymore. It was the thrill of surrender, the overwhelming pull of submission that she had fought so hard against.

You slid the knife down her body, over her chest, the cold steel cutting through the air between you. Natasha’s eyes followed the blade, her breath ragged and uneven as you brought it to her collarbone, then lower, teasing the edge against the soft skin between her breasts. She gasped, her head tilting back slightly as if offering more of herself to you.

"You don’t get to resist anymore," you murmured, your tone dark and commanding as you slowly dragged the knife lower, grazing it along the curve of her waist. "Not with me."

Her breath came in short, sharp bursts, her entire body trembling under your touch as you continued to tease her with the blade, her skin quivering beneath the cold metal. Her mind was racing, you could tell—fighting the urge to pull away, to reclaim control. But the deeper you pushed, the more she yielded, her body surrendering even if her mind hadn’t quite caught up yet.

Natasha’s chest heaved with every breath, her bound hands twitching behind her back, desperate for any semblance of control. But there was none to be had. She was at your mercy now, and she knew it.

"On your knees, helpless, and still trying to fight me?" You chuckled darkly, the sound low and menacing as you brought the knife back up to her throat, letting the blade rest there, the edge pressed just enough for her to feel it, the danger of it sending a shiver down her spine. "Maybe I should take things a step further… make sure you can’t fight anymore."

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly, the fear and excitement clashing in her gaze as she swallowed hard, her throat bobbing against the cold steel. She was so close to breaking now, so close to letting go completely. And you were going to push her over that edge.

“You need something stronger to keep you in place,” you murmured, your voice low and commanding as you looped your belt around her wrists, binding them together even tighter. Her breath hitched as it bit into her skin, the bindings firm and unyielding as you secured them in place.

Natasha’s muscles coiled, a faint tremor running through her body as she tested the new added restraints, her hands pulling slightly against the bonds. But there was no escape. Not like she’d want to, anyway.

You stood there for a moment, admiring how Natasha knelt at your feet, bound and vulnerable. The weight of your dominance filled the room, every breath she took betraying the fact that she was barely holding on.

Crossing the room, you opened the drawer of a hidden compartment. The safe house had been your sanctuary before, a place where you’d kept everything you might need for a situation exactly like this. And there, tucked away in the drawer, was a strap-on.

But this wasn’t just any strap. This was one of the largest you owned, the kind that had pushed your limits even when you’d tried it before. The moment you brought it out, you felt a dark satisfaction at the way Natasha’s eyes widened, her gaze locking onto the sheer size of it. Her body tensed, the restraints around her wrists tugging slightly as if her instincts told her to pull away. But she didn’t.

"You know what’s coming," you murmured, securing the strap around your hips, adjusting the buckles with precise, deliberate motions. "And you're going to take it."

Natasha’s breath quickened, her eyes darting from the massive strap hanging between your legs to your face, a flash of doubt crossing her features. Her lips parted as if to protest, to resist, but she knew better. Deep down, she wanted it. Needed it. The mere thought of being filled, stretched beyond her limits, was enough to drive her insane. Yet, she hesitated—her instincts to fight back were hard to shake, and that moment of resistance only fueled your anger.

The second she shifted backward on her knees, you saw it. That flicker of defiance, the last remnant of her bratty nature daring to challenge you. And it made your blood boil. You were tired of her fighting, tired of her constant need to push your buttons.

Without thinking twice, you reached behind you, pulling out another gun you always kept at your side, a cold metal reminder of who held all the power here. Natasha froze instantly, her eyes wide, her breath halting in her throat as you flicked off the safety, the unmistakable sound echoing through the room. You placed the gun’s barrel against her forehead, pressing it firmly against her skin.

"Don't you dare," you growled, the sharp edge in your voice leaving no room for argument. "You’ve been pushing me all day, testing my patience. I’m done playing nice."

Her lips trembled, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and arousal. The cold steel of the gun against her forehead sent a shiver down her spine, grounding her in the reality of the situation. She couldn’t fight anymore. She wouldn’t. You’d made sure of that.

"You're going to take everything I give you," you whispered harshly, your fingers tightening around the gun’s grip as you pressed it harder into her skin. "And you're going to show me how much you like it. Understand?"

Natasha swallowed hard, her eyes flickering with a desperate need for your approval, for your permission to submit completely. She nodded, a soft, broken sound escaping her throat as her resistance crumbled. The fight was gone.

"Good girl," you muttered, your lips curling into a dark smile as you lowered the gun from her forehead, dragging the cold barrel down the side of her face, over her cheek, and across her lips. She whimpered, her body trembling beneath your gaze as you continued to trace the gun over her skin, using it to remind her just how helpless she was in your hands.

The massive strap-on swayed between your legs, a tangible symbol of what was to come. (she was lol) Natasha's eyes drifted back down to it, her breath catching as she realised there was no escaping it now. The size of it loomed over her, taunting her, daring her to submit completely. She shuddered, her bound hands twitching behind her as she tried to steady herself.

"Open your mouth," you ordered, the gun resting against her lips once more.

For a moment, she hesitated again, her mind racing with the sheer impossibility of what she was about to take. But you weren’t having any of it. You pressed the gun harder against her lips, the cold barrel pushing them apart slightly as a warning.

"I said, open."

With a trembling exhale, Natasha parted her lips, her eyes full of conflicted desire as she let the tip of the strap brush against her mouth. The size of it made her hesitate, her breathing ragged as she felt the weight of her submission in every inch of the massive toy.

"You think you can handle it?" you teased, leaning in close, your voice dripping with mockery as you pressed the strap-on closer to her mouth. "You better make sure you can, because you’re going to be filled with this until you can’t think straight."

Natasha whimpered, her lips stretching around the tip of the strap as she obeyed, her tongue tentatively brushing against the silicone. She tried to control her breathing, her bound hands clenching into fists as the reality of what she was about to endure sank in. The weight of the strap was overwhelming, but the presence of the gun kept her compliant.

You smirked, pushing the strap deeper into her mouth, watching as her lips stretched wider, her throat tightening with the effort. The sight of Natasha, kneeling before you, bound and gagging around the oversized strap, her face flushed with both shame and arousal, sent a rush of power through you.

But that wasn’t enough. Not yet.

Leaning down, you brought the gun to her cheek, the cold metal grazing her skin as you angled her head to look up at you. Natasha’s eyes fluttered, her lips quivering around the strap as you gently tapped the barrel against her face, a not-so-subtle reminder of her place. Her chest heaved with laboured breaths, her body trembling as she took more of the strap into her mouth, her teeth grazing the silicone.

"That’s right," you muttered, pressing the gun against her cheek as you slowly pulled the strap from her mouth, watching the way her lips glistened from the mixture of saliva and lust. "You’re going to be filled up so much tonight, you won’t even remember your name."

Natasha whimpered softly, her eyes glazed over with anticipation. She wanted this—despite every protest, despite every fight. It was the thrill of being conquered, of having no control. And you were going to give her everything she craved.

The gun pressed harder against Natasha's cheek, the cool steel branding her skin as a sharp reminder of the control you held over her. But as much as you towered over her, there was a silent understanding between you both: no matter how much you threatened her with the barrel, no matter how many times you flicked off the safety with that deadly promise in your eyes, she knew. She knew you wouldn’t pull the trigger.

And you knew that she knew.

It wasn't a matter of power, but trust—twisted, dangerous trust that she gave you, had dreamed of giving you when she was sent to spy on you. The loaded gun may have been real, but the trigger was a bluff. Natasha’s eyes, though wide and filled with the tension of the moment, flickered with a glimmer of understanding. She knew exactly where your limits lay. But that didn’t stop the thrill that coursed through her as the cold barrel grazed her skin.

You smirked as you saw the flicker of defiance still lingering in her gaze, the slightest hint that she was daring you to push her further. It made your blood hum with excitement. The challenge was always there with Natasha—she never fully gave in, even when bound and at your mercy. And you loved it. She wanted to fight, even if it was a losing battle.

"Think I won’t do it?" you murmured, dragging the gun down her cheek, tracing it along her jawline as you slowly pulled the strap from her mouth. Her lips parted, slick with saliva, trembling slightly as she struggled to catch her breath. You angled the gun under her chin, forcing her to meet your gaze.

Natasha swallowed hard, her throat tightening as the strap bobbed between your legs, teasing her just inches from her face. Her breathing was ragged, her body quivering under the weight of your dominance, but her eyes never left yours. There was fear there, yes—but not of the gun. She feared how much she wanted this.

"You won't," she whispered, her voice barely a breath as her tongue darted out to wet her lips, still swollen from gagging on the oversized strap. "You could... but you won't."

A dark smile spread across your face as you pressed the gun harder beneath her chin, lifting her head slightly so that she had no choice but to hold your gaze. She was right, and she knew it. You wouldn’t pull the trigger. But it wasn’t about the gun—it never was. It was about her submission. The game of trust you played, where each bluff, each threat, pushed her deeper into surrender.

"You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?" you hissed, leaning in closer until your breath ghosted over her trembling lips. "Maybe I don’t have to pull the trigger to make you beg, hm?"

Natasha’s breath hitched, her body betraying her as her thighs shifted slightly, the heat between her legs undeniable. She wanted it. No matter how much she fought back, no matter how much she resisted, she loved this—this raw, desperate need to be at your mercy.

You straightened up, pulling the gun away from her chin and letting it rest lazily at your side. The tension in the room was insane, her body tense and ready for whatever came next. The real threat wasn't the gun—it was you. And you had something much bigger in mind.

You tossed the gun aside, the clatter of metal on the floor echoing through the room, but neither of you cared. The gun had served its purpose. Now, it was time to show her what real power felt like.

With one swift motion, you forced the strap down her throat again before pulling it free from Natasha's lips, watching as a thick string of saliva clung to the oversized toy before it broke and dripped onto the torn remnants of her suit, barely covering her chest. Her breath was ragged, uneven, and her wide, glassy eyes locked onto you, lips parted as if she still craved more. Despite the tremors wracking her body from what had just happened, she knew you weren’t done with her yet. Not by a long shot.

“Turn around,” you commanded, voice low and dripping with authority. Natasha blinked, her breath catching in her throat, but she didn’t move quickly enough for your liking. The hesitation only stoked the fire of your frustration, a simmering anger at her bratty defiance. You reached down, grabbing her shoulder roughly, and with a sharp tug, you spun her around to face the floor.

She gasped as you manhandled her into place, but before she could react, your hand was on her back, forcing her down. Her knees dug into the hard floor as she braced her upper body against the surface, her shoulders supporting herself against the surface while her hips remained raised in the air. The position was humiliating—her ass up, hands bound behind her back, face pressed to the floor, utterly exposed and vulnerable—but it was exactly where you wanted her, in a position of complete submission.

Her combat suit, torn from the knife earlier, clung to her in ragged strips, the fabric stretched and ripped across her hips, barely concealing her curves. You leaned down, tracing a slow, deliberate line from her shoulder blades down to the curve of her lower back, your fingers grazing the places where her skin was visible through the torn material.

“You were made for this, weren’t you?” you murmured darkly, your breath ghosting over her as you loomed above her. Natasha shivered at your words, her body trembling as she instinctively arched her back, a silent plea for more. Her mind may have been fighting back, but her body had surrendered long ago.

The thick, intimidating strap hanging from your waist brushed against her inner thighs as she squirmed in place, her bound hands flexing as if trying to find some sense of balance. But there was none to be found, she was at your mercy. All she could do was lay there, exposed and vulnerable, the toy hovering just out of reach.

Gripping the thick base of the strap hanging from your waist, you let the weight of it rest against her ass, the length of the toy brushing against the slickness between her legs. Natasha whimpered, her breath hitching as the pressure of it teased her, not entering her yet, just taunting her with the size of what was to come.

“Pathetic,” you hissed letting the tip of the strap graze her entrance without pushing in. “Look at you. On your knees, soaking wet, begging for something you haven’t earned.”

"Look at you," you continued, your voice full of mockery as your hand found her hair, fingers tangling in the red strands. "Begging for something you’re not even sure you can take. You pretend to fight, but here you are, on your knees, waiting to be filled."

Natasha’s breath hitched at the words, her body jolting every time you teased her with the toy, her slickness coating the length of it as you slid it between her folds. She pushed her hips back instinctively, desperate for more contact, but you quickly tugged on hair, yanking her head up sharply so she was forced to look ahead at the empty space.

Natasha let out a soft whine, her body trembling, abs flexed as she struggled to keep herself upright. She knew what was coming, and her body was betraying her—her hips involuntarily kept pushing back, her slick thighs glistening with the proof of her arousal.

“You want this?” you purred, pressing the strap against her soaked entrance again, the thickness of it stretching her just enough to make her squirm.

Natasha gasped, her hips twitching instinctively as the pressure increased, but she didn’t say anything, she remained silent, her defiance hanging on by a thread.

Without warning, you delivered a sharp slap to her ass, the sound echoing through the room. Natasha choked on her breath, her body jerking forward from the impact, but she stayed in position, her knees digging harder into the floor as she pushed back against you again, almost instinctively seeking more.

“You like that, don’t you?” you taunted, your hand coming down again, the sound of your palm connecting with her bare skin sending a thrill up your spine. Natasha’s moans grew louder, the defiance in her eyes faltering with every strike as you worked her into the space between pain and pleasure. Each slap left her breathless, her body quivering with a need she could no longer deny.

You smirked, watching the way her skin flushed pink beneath your hand, the slight tremors of her thighs betraying how much she craved what came next. It didn’t matter how big the strap was—she was going to take it. You’d make sure of it, and she knew that.

In one swift motion, you reached down and grabbed the gun again, the cold, unyielding metal pressed against the back of her head as you leaned in close, your voice a low, dangerous whisper.

“Beg,” you demanded, your breath hot against her ear. “I want to hear you say it. I want to hear how badly you need this.”

Natasha shuddered beneath you, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. She was fighting with herself now, you could see it—the desire to give in clashing with her stubborn need to hold on to some semblance of control. Her bound hands flexed behind her back, fingers clenching and unclenching as she grappled with the command.

But the press of the gun against her head—cold, unyielding—was the only thing grounding her as she teetered on the edge.

“I…” she began, her voice shaking as she tried to form words, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

You clicked the safety off the gun again, letting the sharp sound echo through the room.

“I said beg,” you growled, your voice dark and full of promise. “Or do you need me to remind you who’s in control here?”

Natasha let out a soft, broken whimper, her body trembling under the weight of the power you held over her. She knew—she knew—you wouldn’t pull the trigger. You’d never do that, it was an unspoken understanding in the weird relationship that had formed over the years. But the sheer threat of it, the danger and dominance dripping from your voice, was enough to send shivers down her spine.

“I need it,” Natasha finally whispered, her voice barely audible as her head dipped to the side in shame. “Please…”

“Louder,” you barked, yanking her hair back again, the gun pressing harder against her skull. “You can do better than that.”

“I need it,” Natasha repeated, louder this time, her words dripping with desperation as her bound wrists strained against the restraints. “Please, I need it. I need you inside me.”

A slow, satisfied grin spread across your face as you watched her crumble before you, her pride shattered by the weight of her own desire. This was what you wanted—her on her knees, bound and begging for you to take her.

Without another word, you lowered the gun, tossing it aside with a casual flick of your wrist, your full attention now on the trembling woman beneath you. Your hands gripped the thick base of the strap, positioning it at her entrance once more, the tip just barely pushing inside as you leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Such a good girl,” you purred, relishing the way Natasha whimpered at the praise.

With a firm hand on her lower back, you guided the thick strap between her legs, the tip pressing against her entrance as Natasha’s breath hitched audibly. Her body tensed beneath you, her muscles taut with a mixture of anticipation and nerves as she braced herself.

But just as the head of the toy began to stretch her again, you stopped.

A low, frustrated moan escaped her lips, her hips shifting back in a desperate attempt to push herself onto it, but you kept your hand firmly on her back, keeping her in place. You weren’t going to let her have it that easily.

“Not yet,” you giggled darkly, leaning down so that your lips brushed against her ear. “You think you deserve this just like that? After all that brattiness? After fighting me every step of the way?”

Natasha whimpered, her forehead pressing into the floor as she squirmed beneath you, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She wanted it, and the fact that you were teasing her—denying her even though she was laid bare before you—was driving her insane.

Gripping the base of the strap firmly, you pulled the tip out again and rubbed the length of it against her soaked folds, letting it slide along her entrance without pushing inside again, taunting her with just enough pressure to make her body ache with need.

“You think you can handle this?” you murmured, your voice low and dripping with sadistic pleasure as you pressed the toy harder against her, just barely breaching her before pulling back again. “I don’t think you can. I think you’re going to break before I’m done with you.”

Her whimper turned into a desperate moan, her hips pushing back against you, seeking more friction, more contact, anything to relieve the burning ache between her legs.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, you yanked her head up again and to the side, forcing her to look at herself in the reflection of the nearby window, her face flushed, her lips swollen and trembling. “Look at you,” you hissed, pressing the strap against her entrance once more, letting her feel the weight of it. “You don’t even know what you want, do you?”

Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut as her body quaked beneath you, her breath ragged as she submitted to the overwhelming sensations—the teasing, the threats, the promises left unfulfilled. She was at your mercy, and you revelled in it.

But you were done teasing.

With one swift, powerful motion, you thrust the strap deep inside her, the thick length stretching her to her limits as Natasha’s breath caught in her throat, her entire body tensing beneath you as she was filled to the brim. Her bound hands flexed behind her back, her fingers curling into fists as she struggled to accommodate the size of the toy, but you didn’t give her any time to adjust. You pulled back and thrust into her again, harder this time, setting a relentless pace that had her knees buckling beneath her.

A choked moan escaped her lips, her face sliding from side to side over the floor as she struggled to adjust to the size of the toy inside her. But you didn’t give her time to catch her breath. You pulled back, only to slam back into her, setting a relentless pace that had Natasha gasping for air.

Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain coursing through her body, the weight of the toy inside her overwhelming as you took her without mercy, each slam of your hips against hers driving her deeper into the floor. Her ass was high in the air, the angle perfect for you to hit her deepest spots with every slam of your hips against hers, the sound of skin on skin filling the room in time with her breathless moans.

Natasha forced her forehead against the floor, holding her up just the tiniest bit as she gasped for air, her body trembling uncontrollably as you thrust into her with a punishing rhythm. The sheer size of the strap was too much, too thick, stretching her wider than she ever thought possible, but she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more. Every thrust sent her spiralling deeper into submission, her body betraying her mind as it craved the brutal pace you’d set.

“Is this what you wanted?” you growled, your fingers digging into her hips as you pulled her back onto the toy, forcing her to take it all. “You begged for this, Natasha. Don’t forget that.”

Her only response was a choked sob, her breaths coming in uneven gasps as she tried to hold herself together. But you could feel it—the way her body trembled, the way her thighs quaked as the overwhelming pleasure built inside her. She was close, and she knew it.

But you weren’t going to let her have it so easily.

With one final thrust, you buried the strap inside her, grinding your hips against her ass as Natasha let out a loud, desperate moan, her entire body shaking with the force of it. You held her there for a moment, your hips grinding the toy deeper inside her, savouring the way she clenched around the toy. Natasha’s breath was ragged, her forehead pressed into the floor, her knees trembling beneath her as she barely held herself up, teetering on the edge of release.

She needed you to move, needed you to continue, but you stayed still.

You weren’t done with her yet. Not even close.

Without a word, you pulled out slowly, dragging the thick strap along her slick walls, making her whimper as she clenched desperately around the sudden emptiness. Her body was trembling, begging for release, but you had other plans.

You leaned down, your lips brushing the back of her neck as you whispered darkly, “Don’t move.”

Natasha’s breath hitched, her bound hands flexing behind her back, the ropes tight against her wrists as she tried to hold still. Her muscles were taut, her body on edge as you pressed your hand against the base of her spine, pushing her harder against the floor. You could feel the way she trembled, her skin flushed and slick with sweat, her pulse racing beneath your fingers.

Slowly, you reached down to your thigh holster, retrieving the knife you had put back a few moments ago. The glint of the blade in the dim light sent a shiver down your spine, the weight of it familiar in your hand. You twirled it lazily between your fingers before tracing the cold, sharp edge along her lower back, right above the curve of her ass.

Natasha sucked in a breath, her body jerking slightly beneath you at the sensation. She didn’t know what to expect, and that uncertainty had her on edge, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as you dragged the blade along her skin, just enough pressure to send shivers down her spine.

“You’re mine,” you whispered, pressing the flat of the blade against her skin, just below the waistband of where her combat suit had been. "And I’m going to make sure you never forget it."

Natasha tensed beneath you, her breath catching in her throat as she felt the tip of the knife dig into her skin, sharp and unforgiving. The metal bit into the softness of her flesh, a slow, deliberate drag as you began carving the first letter of your initials into the pale skin at the base of her spine. Blood welled up immediately, crimson droplets beading along the thin line as you carved deeper, each movement precise and controlled.

Her breath hitched, a soft, choked gasp escaping her lips as the pain bloomed through her body, sharp and intoxicating. You watched, captivated by the way she trembled beneath you, her body both resisting and craving the sensation all at once.

“That’s it,” you murmured, dragging the blade slowly through the second letter, watching as the blood flowed freely from the wound, staining her skin in rich crimson. “Take it. You’re going to wear this forever.”

Natasha’s body jerked involuntarily, her breath coming in shaky, uneven gasps as the pain mingled with the overwhelming pleasure still coursing through her veins. You could feel it—the way her body reacted, the way her muscles tensed and relaxed, the way her hips shifted slightly as if seeking more.

She loved it.

And you knew it.

The moment you finished carving your initials, you leaned down, dragging your tongue along the fresh wound, tasting the metallic tang of her blood as she let out a low, desperate moan. Her body was trembling uncontrollably now, her mind teetering on the edge of submission as you kissed the carved letters, your lips warm against her searing skin.

“Now, beg me for it,” you growled against her ear, your hands gripping her hips tightly as you positioned the strap at her entrance once more. “Beg for me to fuck you like the brat you are.”

Natasha’s breath was coming in short, ragged gasps, her hands bound tightly behind her back, the ropes adn your belt cutting into her skin as she fought against the overwhelming sensations. The sting of the fresh wound on her back, the lingering threat of the knife still held in your hand—it was all too much. She was slipping, her mind crumbling beneath the weight of it all, her body aching for release.

“Please…” she whimpered, her voice broken, barely audible as she pressed her forehead into the floor. “Please…fuck me.”

You smirked, gripping her hips tighter as you pushed the thick strap against her entrance, teasing her once more, not giving her what she so desperately craved.

“I didn’t hear you,” you hissed, your hand reaching up to grip her hair, pulling her head back completely so she was forced to look at you, her eyes glassy and unfocused. “Say it like you mean it.”

Natasha let out a soft, broken sob, her body trembling beneath you, her bloodied back arching as she kept trying to hold herself together. But she couldn’t. Not anymore.

“Fuck me,” she cried out, her voice hoarse, desperate. “Please, please, just fuck me. I need it. I need you.”

A satisfied grin spread across your face as you finally gave in, slamming the strap deep inside her with one brutal thrust. Natasha gasped, her entire body jolting forward as you filled her completely, the thick length stretching her to her limits once again. But this time, there was no teasing, no holding back. You set a relentless pace from the start, driving the toy into her over and over, her blood-slicked back arching beneath you with each thrust.

“Is this what you wanted?” you growled, your hands digging into her hips as you pounded into her, the slick sounds of her arousal mixing with the wet slap of skin against skin. “This is what you begged for, Natasha. Don’t you dare forget it.”

Natasha’s cries filled the room, her body shaking with the force of each thrust, her bound hands straining against the restraints as she tried to hold herself together. But it was impossible—the overwhelming pleasure mixed with the sharp sting of the wound on her back, the lingering burn of your initials carved into her skin—it was all too much.

Her mind was spinning, her body on the edge of breaking as you drove her higher and higher, each thrust sending her spiralling closer to the point of no return. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but feel as you took her completely, owning every part of her.

“You’re mine,” you growled, leaning down to bite the tender flesh of her shoulder, your teeth sinking into her skin as Natasha cried out, her body convulsing beneath you. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” Natasha sobbed, her voice barely coherent as she pressed her cheek into the floor, her body trembling uncontrollably. “I’m yours. I’m yours…”

With one final, brutal thrust, you buried the strap deep inside her, seeing how every inch of her clenched tightly around your toy. You ground your hips against her ass, relishing the sensation of being completely buried within her as Natasha let out a piercing scream, the sound raw and desperate, echoing off the walls of the safe house. Her entire body shuddered violently as she finally came undone, the tension that had been coiling tightly within her exploding like a dam bursting.

You could feel her muscles spasm around the strap, gripping and releasing in a frantic rhythm that would have driven you wild if only you could feel it. Her bound hands clenched into fists behind her back, the fabric of her combat suit wrinkling under the pressure. The blood that had dried on her back glistened in the dim light, a stark reminder of your earlier marks, and the sight sent a surge of satisfaction coursing through you. She was completely at your mercy, and you were more than happy to take what she offered.

“Natasha,” you breathed, your voice low and filled with awe as you watched her writhe beneath you, her body shaking uncontrollably with the force of her orgasm. The intensity of her release rippled through her, making her legs tremble as she fought not to completely melt against the hard fllor, her breath coming in harsh gasps that filled the air with a desperate need.

Her back arched beautifully, the muscles tightening as the pleasure overwhelmed her. You could see the way her skin glistened, every inch of her exposed to you as you leaned forward, relishing the sight of her vulnerability. The way she surrendered completely, her body responding to every thrust, every grind of the strap as you picked up the brutal pace. You were relentless, driven by the need to push her beyond her limits, to take her where she craved to go.

With each powerful thrust, you pressed deeper, seeing the resistance coming from her walls enveloping you in a way that made your own pleasure build alongside hers. The sounds she made were music to your ears—choked sobs and breathy cries that spilled from her lips, each one urging you on, pushing you to claim her more completely.

“Please,” Natasha whimpered, her voice thick with emotion, raw and tinged with exhaustion. “Don’t stop, please. I need more. I need you.”

You obliged, your hips snapping forward with a primal ferocity, driving the strap deeper still, grinding against her soft flesh as you imagined feeling her walls flutter around you. Each thrust sent waves of sensation surging through her, her body responding instinctively, craving more, seeking the high only you chased give her. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in this moment—lost in a sea of pleasure, pain, and complete submission.

You could see her face, flushed and filled with a mixture of ecstasy and desperation, her eyes glazed over as she teetered on the edge of another wave. The beauty of her submission, the way she let go of everything, made you feel powerful and alive.

“My good girl,” you growled, the words slipping from your lips like honey as you pressed down against her again, forcing her to feel every inch of the strap stretching her open. “You’re such a good girl for Daddy.”

Natasha’s breath hitched at the words, the praise and your self proclaimed title igniting a new fire within her. The sound of her gasping breath filled your ears, mixing with the wet, lewd sounds of your bodies connecting. Her ass pushed back against you, instinctively trying to draw you deeper, wanting every last inch as she moaned, “I’m yours, Daddy. Just yours.”

“Then let it all out, baby,” you coaxed, your voice a low rumble as you continued to rock into her, the rhythm never slowing. “Let me hear you.”

With another thrust, you drove her to the brink once more. You could feel the tight coil of pleasure building inside her again, a wave crashing closer and closer, ready to pull her under. Her body quaked, trembling under the pressure as she gasped out your name, the syllables falling from her lips like a prayer.

“Daddy! Please!” she cried out, her words choked with desperation and need.

And with that, you thrust deeper, pushing her over the edge, flooding her with sensation as she screamed your name. Her body convulsed, waves of pleasure coursing through her as she came hard, her cries echoing in the confined space as you held her against you, the world around you dissolving into nothing but the two of you.

She rode out the wave of her orgasm, her body shaking, the sensation overwhelming and exquisite, each pulse sending aftershocks that rippled through her. You kept thrusting, chasing her high, your own pleasure mounting as you watched her succumb to the bliss that only you could give her.

“Such a pretty girl,” you murmured, your voice thick with satisfaction as you continued to fill her, seeing her clench tightly around you with every aftershock of her release. “You did so well, baby.”

As the last echoes of Natasha’s cries faded into the silence of the safe house, you felt a mixture of satisfaction and something deeper—something that tugged at your chest as you looked down at her. She lay sprawled on the floor, utterly spent, her body still trembling with the remnants of her orgasm. Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, the darkening lines of dried blood decorating her back, marking the territory you both shared. The sight of her—so vulnerable, yet so beautiful—made your heart swell with an unexpected tenderness.

You pulled out before kneeling beside her, brushing a few errant strands of hair away from her face. Her lips were slightly parted, her breath coming in soft, uneven puffs. There was a delicate peace about her in that moment, and it stirred something within you. Forgiveness hung in the air between you, a silent understanding that she hadn’t just surrendered physically; she had opened herself to you in a way that transcended the mission you had been so focused on before. (that’s a lie, actually. you had completely forgotten about that.)

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Perhaps she had fucked up your plans, but if this was the outcome—if this raw connection was the price for her mistake—then you would gladly take that risk again. The thought of it excited you, igniting a flicker of anticipation for future encounters.

With gentle care, you scooped her up into your arms, cradling her against your chest in a bridal carry. The softness of her body against you felt right, a perfect fit. You moved slowly, mindful of her injuries, your thumb grazing over the fresh marks you had carved into her skin—your initials etched into her, a reminder of the bond you now shared. The corners of your mouth lifted at the thought, a wicked satisfaction curling in your chest.

As you carried her to the adjacent room, the softness of the bed beckoned, a stark contrast to the cold, hard floor where you had claimed her. You laid her down carefully, making sure she was comfortable. She looked so serene, her chest rising and falling rhythmically, and you couldn’t help but linger for a moment, studying her.

But as you gazed at her, you felt a pang of something deeper—a sense of ownership mingled with affection. She was yours, and you were hers. And in that quiet moment, you understood the weight of that connection.

You leaned down, brushing your lips against her forehead, a whisper of a kiss that spoke of promises unspoken. “Rest well, my beautiful warrior,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You hoped she would remember this moment, the way she had submitted to you, the way she had let go of her walls.

But before you turned to leave, something compelled you to leave a reminder of your bond. You retrieved your knife, the blade glinting softly in the low light, and set it down gently on the bedside table. It was more than just a weapon; it was a symbol—a reminder that you were intertwined, each of you as dangerous and vulnerable as the other.

As you stepped back, taking one last look at her peaceful form, you felt the thrill of anticipation for what was to come. You were drawn to her, and the thought of exploring this connection further filled you with excitement.

“Next time,” you whispered, more to yourself than to her sleeping form, “I’ll make you beg for it again.”

With that final thought lingering in your mind, you slipped out of the room, leaving her behind to recover, the sound of her soft breaths echoing in your ears as you walked away. You knew this wasn’t the end—it was only the beginning.

[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds

The GIF is not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : You recently joined the Avengers, and everyone has accepted you except for Bucky. Now, the challenge lies in proving him wrong, but can you succeed changing his mind and earn his trust? Or do you have to do more to earn it? (geez, I’m suck at this)

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

TW: SMUT, 18+, strong language, enemies-to-lovers-ish, oral (m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation (slut calling), slight choking, orgasm denial

Word Count: Around 10k (I know it's a bit long, I got carried away. Sorry) → smut is like 4k hehe

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story, and it’s a smut one at that. English isn't my first language, so apologies for any mistakes or bad grammar. I hope you still enjoy the story!

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 1 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You've always been a dependable agent ever since you were young, someone who could handle the toughest missions without letting your emotions get in the way. Nick Fury spotted your potential when you were just a kid, taking you under his wing. It was his belief in you that kept you going, and it all led to the thrilling moment when he thought it was time for you to join the Avengers. After all those years of hard work, it felt like a dream come true.

Then came your first day with the team. You'd just joined, and they wanted to see how good you were in a fight. You almost beat Natasha in a really intense battle, proving to everyone that you totally belonged with the Avengers. Your determination to show your worth never wavered. But there was this one guy, Bucky Barnes, who just couldn't seem to trust you no matter what.

On your first day with the Avengers, the training room buzzed with anticipation as you faced off against Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow. It was a test of your combat skills, a way to see if you had what it took to be part of Earth's mightiest heroes. The desire to become one of them, although it might sound cliché and cringey, burned within you.

The Avengers, including Nick Fury, Captain America, Iron Man, Winter Soldier, Hawkeye and Thor, watched from up above, all curious and eager to see how you'd do. Their faces showed they were rooting for you.

However, as you glanced upward to catch your breath, your eyes locked onto Bucky Barnes. He stood there, solitary and stern, arms crossed over his chest. His intense gaze bore into you, but unlike the other Avengers, his expression was far from encouraging. There was a deep skepticism in his eyes, a doubt that seemed unshakable, and it cast a shadow over your determination to prove yourself to the team.

Natasha, dressed in her familiar black outfit, gave you a serious look that made you stop staring up. When she spoke, you turned your attention to her. "Think you've got this, newbie?" she teased, a touch of amusement in her voice.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This was your moment to prove yourself, and there was no turning back. The weight of your new Avengers uniform felt both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. "I'm ready, Natasha.", you responded with determination. You weren't going to back down now.

Natasha grinned. "We'll see about that."

The two of you circled each other, and then, without warning, Natasha lunged at you with lightning speed. Her attack was quick and precise, but you were able to block it, thanks to your training. As the two of you sparred, the crowd cheered and shouted their support. It was a battle of wits and willpower, and neither of you was willing to give up.

"You're good," Natasha admitted, her voice dripping with genuine admiration. "But let's see how you handle this." With a fluid motion, she unleashed a series of acrobatic moves, flipping and twisting through the air before landing gracefully behind you.

You spun around to face her, sweat beading on your forehead. "Impressive, but I'm not done yet."

The fight continued, and you pushed yourself to keep up with Natasha's relentless assault. Your training and instincts kicked in, and you began to hold your own. It was a back-and-forth battle, each of you landing hits and dodging the other's attacks.

But Natasha was more experienced than you, and eventually, she managed to overpower you. She had you pinned to the ground, her face inches away from yours. You struggled against her grip, but she held you firmly in place. "Had enough?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gritting your teeth, you mustered all the determination you had left. "Not a chance," you replied, refusing to admit defeat.

The crowd went wild as Natasha delivered the final blow, knocking you out. She stood there, victorious, a small smile playing on her lips acknowledging your impressive performance. "Good fight," she said, extending a hand to help you up.

You accepted her hand, "Thanks, Natasha. You're incredible."

The room erupted in applause, and everyone from the observation deck descended to congratulate you. Fury, wearing a proud smile, gave you a warm hug. "Well done, Y/N. You're officially part of the team," he declared, his words filled with pride. He whispered, "I'm proud of you, Y/N," and it meant the world to you.

But amid the celebration with your new teammates, there was one person who didn't seem as thrilled. James "Bucky" Barnes, the Winter Soldier, stood in a quiet corner of the room, his expression inscrutable.

You had felt his presence throughout the entire match, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine. Bucky's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, then he turned and left the room, leaving you feeling more confused than ever.

Bucky went out of his way to undermine your confidence, pushing you to the brink of quitting time and time again. His words still fresh in your mind. "I don't think you're cut out for this, kid. This isn't a game. It's a matter of life and death. You’re not ready for this."

It hurt. You didn't understand why he was so determined to bring you down. What had you done to make him dislike you so much? Despite Bucky's relentless doubts, you refused to back down. You were determined to earn his respect, just as you had with the rest of the team.

So, every day, you trained harder, pushed yourself further, and proved your worth on every mission. Your hope was that one day, Bucky would finally see you for the capable agent you truly were and put his doubts to rest once and for all.

One day, as you were making your way to the gym, the sound of voices caught your attention. It was Bucky and Steve, engaged in a hushed conversation that seemed to revolve around you. Curiosity piqued, you tried to maintain a discreet distance, keen on hearing what they were saying. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Buck, I think you're being too hard on her. She's a good fighter and she's eager to learn," Steve argued.

Bucky's skepticism remained unshaken. "I'm just trying to watch out for the team. She's a liability, not ready for this kind of responsibility."

Steve being the optimist pushed back gently, his support for you evident in his tone. "I think you're the only one who feels that way."

Bucky's voice grew firmer as he explained his perspective. "She's only here 'cause Nick Fury vouched for her. There are others who deserve this chance more. I could name a couple who'd fit better on this team than her."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, casting doubt on your worthiness. It was difficult to hear that the person you looked up to and wanted to prove yourself to was actually against you, even though Bucky's argument was valid.

You couldn't help but question if your acceptance into the Avengers was indeed solely because of Fury. You had always believed that your spot on the Avengers was earned through your skills and dedication. Bucky's doubts made you second-guess if you had truly earned your place.

"Buck, there's more to it than that," Steve replied, his voice steady. "Just be patient with her."

Unable to endure the conversation any longer, your heart felt heavy as you turned away, doing your best to conceal the hurt that washed over your face. With resolve, you changed your course and headed towards the field track, hoping a run would help clear your mind.

Later, as the sun set on the horizon, you were still out running laps. Your thoughts were racing, and your body was aching, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

"You're gonna wear yourself out if you keep pushing like that."

You jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Bucky standing a few feet away, his arms crossed.

Caught off guard, you tried to put on a brave face. "I'm okay," you lied, attempting to hide the pain that was clearly etched on your face. Stopping abruptly had caused your feet to throb with discomfort.

Bucky, however, wasn't buying your façade. He narrowed his eyes, his concern deepening. "You're not. You're hurt."

In response, you shook your head stubbornly, your pride urging you to push through the pain. "I'll manage," you insisted, even though every step sent a sharp twinge through your feet.

Bucky's gaze remained sharp and unwavering. "You're not fooling anyone with that."

Deep down, you knew he was right. The pain was becoming harder to ignore, and your stubbornness could only take you so far. But in that moment, you weren't quite ready to admit defeat or show weakness, especially not to someone like Bucky.

Bucky took a step closer, his expression resolute. "Come on, we're heading inside," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I'm okay, I can-." You began to protest, but he interrupted you firmly, "Y/N, enough. This is an order. You're only making my job more difficult by trying to tough it out. Let's go, and I don't want to hear another word from you."

Reluctantly, you fell silent and went along with Bucky, allowing him to guide you back to the facility. As you walked, you couldn't help but mull over his earlier words, "You're making my job harder by trying to tough it out." It left you wondering why he cared or felt responsible for you, especially when you believed he disliked you.

Once inside, Bucky seated you and fetched a glass of water. Taking a sip, you felt a wave of relief as it helped ease some of your fatigue. Then, without uttering a word, Bucky briefly stepped away, returning in less than a minute with bandages and medicine in hand.

Your curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't resist asking, "What's all that for?" Your eyes were drawn to the medical supplies.

"Take off your shoes and socks," Bucky directed, his tone brooking no dissent.

"I don't think I need..." You began to protest, but a quick glance at Bucky's determined face made it clear that there was no room for discussion.

Letting out a sigh, you gave in and removed your shoes and socks. What you saw shocked you: your feet were in a terrible state, bleeding and covered with painful blisters, a clear result of your overly enthusiastic run.

You heard Bucky mutter a curse under his breath as he knelt down in front of you. "Bucky, seriously, I can handle it," you tried to protest, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Just stay put and let me take care of this." His voice was firm, and he got to work tending to your battered feet. Gently, he placed your feet on his lap, starting to clean the cuts on your soles. You winced slightly as the sting of the alcohol met the open wounds.

While he busied himself tending to your injuries, you found your gaze drifting to him. Bucky was undeniably handsome and hot, you couldn't help but appreciate his appearance. As your eyes met his, he suddenly looked up at you.

"Got something on your mind?" he asked, his expression as enigmatic as ever.

You blinked, realizing that you'd been staring. Heat crept into your cheeks as you stammered, "I, uh, have an issue with my shoes." You finally managed to say, though it wasn't exactly the eloquent response you'd hoped for.

Bucky, his expression unamused, retorted, "Well, that's clear." After he finished bandaging your wounds, he added, "But there's more to it than just your shoes."

"You can't be out here, pushing yourself so hard if you're going to injure yourself. This isn't a game. You must take care of yourself. You can't expect to get the full experience if you're going to hurt yourself." His words were harsh, but they were true.

"I know," you admitted with a sigh, guilt gnawing at you. "I just got caught up and lost track of time. It's not that bad."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Not that bad?" He challenged you. "Then stand up. Let's see how not that bad it really is."

Your cheeks burned. You could already feel the ache in your legs and the throbbing pain in your feet. But you refused to show any weakness. Not now. Not in front of him.

"Fine." With a determined look, you pushed yourself up from the chair, wincing as you put weight on your injured soles. Your feet stung, and your muscles were sore, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it.

Bucky couldn't help but scoff, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness and tendency to challenge him.  "You want to be part of this team, right?"

You nodded, your determination unwavering despite the discomfort. "Yeah, I do.”

"Then you need to stop being reckless and start acting like an Avenger. We can't afford to have someone on our team who's too stubborn to admit when they're injured. It's only gonna make things worse." he said firmly, taking a step closer to you. "Maybe you could start by, I don't know, following orders and not talking back every chance you get."

The harshness in his words took you by surprise, but they also cut deep. Because you knew he was right.

With that he left the room, leaving you behind to wallow in shame. You knew he was right. But it hurt, especially coming from him.

Weeks later, you received the news that you'd be joining the team on your very first mission. The excitement bubbled up inside you as you geared up for the assignment. But as the mission unfolded, things took a turn for the worse.

You spotted a group of enemies heading for a crowded area and impulsively decided to engage them without waiting for the team's signal or support. Your intentions were to protect the civilians, but your recklessness got the best of you. Your impulsive move led to a chaotic firefight, and in the midst of the chaos, a civilian stumbled into the line of fire, narrowly escaping harm.

Bucky, who had been keeping an eye on you, witnessed the entire sequence of events unfold. His anger and frustration boiled over as he watched you put not only yourself but also innocent bystanders in danger.

Inside the quinjet, as the mission concluded, he couldn't contain his fury any longer. "What the fuck was that, Y/N?!" he erupted, his voice echoing in the confined space.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame and regret.

"Sorry isn't good enough!" Bucky snapped, his intense gaze burning into you. You couldn't bear to meet his eyes, and instead, you cast your gaze downward, your hands trembling with the weight of your mistake.

"If you're gonna keep making mistakes like that, then maybe you don't belong on this team. You could've gotten someone killed back there." His words stung, but he was right.

Natasha stepped in to defend you, "Bucky, it was an accident, and it was her first mission. Everyone makes mistake.”

Bucky didn't back down. "Yeah, and accidents can cost lives, Nat. She need to be more careful," he retorted, glaring back at you. "You can't afford to be an idiot like that out there. What the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled, his anger getting the best of him.

Clint said, "Hey! Enough. She's done enough of a beating already, I know she can do better next time."

"There might not be a next time," Bucky grumbled.

Confusion and worry welled up inside you. 'What do you mean by that?' you wondered silently, unable to find your voice.

Bucky's frustration boiled over as he remarked, "Maybe she should think twice about putting others at risk if she can't handle it."

You turned your gaze away, determined not to let the tears fall. Tony took charge of the situation, his voice steady and reassuring. "Alright, that's enough," Tony declared firmly. "We're all on edge right now after what happened. We all know she can do better, and we'll address it later. For now, let's just concentrate on getting back home."

The rest of the ride was filled with tension, Bucky's glare never leaving you as you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Wanda noticed your discomfort and moved over to sit next to you. She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and asked gently, "How are you holding up?"

You appreciated Wanda's concern and gave her a small, grateful smile. "I'll be okay," you replied softly. "Just need some time to process everything. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Wanda patted your shoulder again, offering more comfort. "Mistakes are part of learning, especially on your first mission. Remember, the key is to learn from them and get better. Don't let Bucky's words get to you too much."

You let out a weary sigh, realizing the truth in her words. "Yeah, I know.”

The quinjet touched down on the landing pad, and a sense of relief washed over you as you realized you were finally back home. This was it. You were finally home. "We'll talk later, okay?" Wanda asked, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You nodded appreciatively at her and quickly made your way to your room. You wanted nothing more than to lock yourself away and forget the whole thing ever happened. But the guilt and shame were too much to bear.

About a month after the incident, news of another mission started to circulate rapidly around the Avengers' headquarters. The buzz of excitement and anticipation filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions—both excitement and anxiety. This mission was your chance to redeem yourself after the missteps on your first assignment.

Determined to discuss your readiness for this new mission, you sought out Steve. As you approached his office, you noticed him engrossed in reading some files. You gently knocked on the open door.

"Hi Steve, may I come in?" you asked politely.

Steve looked up from the files and offered you a welcoming smile. He promptly closed the documents and gestured for you to enter. "Of course, come in Y/N." You stepped into his office, and he continued, "How are you doing, by the way?" Steve motioned for you to take a seat, showing genuine concern.

You settled into the chair across from him and fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find the right words. "I'm good, better than what happened last time..." You paused, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry about last time..."

Steve's warm smile remained reassuring. "Hey, Y/N, that's okay. We all make mistakes," he said with a reassuring tone, "Don't beat yourself up too much about it, okay?" His kindness and understanding were a comfort, making you feel grateful for his leadership and support.

"So, what brings you here?" Steve asked with a welcoming smile.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "I heard there's another mission in 2 days..." After a pause, you continued, "But I haven't received the assignment or briefing for it..."

Steve's friendly expression faltered, and he sighed. "Y/N, about that..." He looked genuinely conflicted. "We already have teams assigned to cover that mission. You don't need to worry about it."

Your heart sank, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was becoming increasingly clear that you were being sidelined. "Is this because of what happened on the last mission?" You finally voiced your concern, your tone a mix of frustration and hurt.

Steve must've noticed the change in your tone. "Y/N, there'll be plenty of missions, and you'll definitely join the next one, okay?"

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, masking the pain that was gnawing at you. "Ah, okay, Steve." You chuckled, though it felt forced. "That's alright, I was just curious.”

Steve smiled weakly, but you could tell he understood your disappointment. "Y/N..."

You got up from the seat, disappointment heavy in your chest. You knew this was likely Bucky's doing. "Thank you, Captain, for the information. Good luck on the mission!" With that, you turned and left the room, trying to hide your frustration and disappointment.

As everyone prepared to leave for the mission, they bid you farewell, their expressions filled with sympathy. You knew they felt sorry for leaving you behind in the tower. Watching them depart filled you with a profound sense of sadness, knowing you couldn't join them.

You returned to your room, aimlessly flipping through the channels on the TV, but nothing captured your interest. Your mind kept wandering back to the missed opportunity, and the guilt and frustration gnawed at you.

After a futile attempt at watching TV, you tried to occupy yourself with a book, but the words on the pages blurred together as your thoughts remained fixated on the mission. With a sigh, you put the book down, realizing you were too distracted to read.

Restlessly, you paced around your room, contemplating various ways to improve your skills and prove that you were a valuable member of the team. Maybe you could spend some time in the training room or review combat strategies. You knew you had to keep pushing yourself to become better.

Eventually, you settled on the idea of practicing your marksmanship in the training room. Grabbing your gear, you headed there with determination in your step, determined to make the most of your time while the team was away on the mission.

Inside the gym, you started with some intense punching and kicking exercises. It felt great to release your anger, sadness, and disappointment through physical exertion. As you pummeled the sandbag, you couldn't help but imagine it as Bucky's face, channeling your frustration and resentment into each punch and kick. You unleashed your emotions on the inanimate object, giving it your all to cope with the overwhelming mix of feelings inside you.

Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the occasional tear, but you didn't let up. You wiped away the sweat and tears from your face. "What" punch "Do" punch "I" kick "Have" punch "To" kick "Do" punch "To" punch "Prove" punch "To" punch "You" kick "That" kick "I'm" punch "Just" kick "As" kick "Good" kick "As" punch "Them" punch kick punch kick.

Why were you treated this way? What had you done to earn Bucky's disdain? How could you prove your worth to him? Frustration boiled inside you, reaching its peak as you let out a guttural scream, causing the sandbag to plummet from the force of your final blow.

Panting, you collapsed on the gym floor, you were exhausted and emotionally drained, but you felt a strange sense of relief. You clenched and unclenching your fists. You flexed your fingers and winced as the pain shot through them.

You chose to ignore the pain and you slowly got up from the gym floor. You knew you had pushed yourself too hard, but it was the only way you could vent your frustration and anger.

Limping, you made your way towards the bench where you had left your belongings. The room felt heavy with the echo of your pounding. Your trembling hand found the familiar coolness of your water bottle, and you clutched it tightly, taking a long, refreshing gulp. The cool liquid soothed your parched throat.

Just as you were catching your breath, Bucky unexpectedly strolled into the room. His presence surprised you, you hadn't expected anyone else to be there, especially not him.

His gaze, sharp and perceptive, honed in on your movements, "Still trying to prove yourself, huh?" he remarked, his words hanging in the air like a challenge, his tone laced with doubt.

You met his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down even in the face of his skepticism. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone, including you," you replied, your voice steady despite the ache in your body. "I'm just making sure I'm ready for whatever comes our way. Maybe you should worry less about what I'm doing and more about why you're not on the mission with the rest of the team."

Bucky's expression remained inscrutable, his indifference a stark contrast to your determination. He nonchalantly shrugged, an aloof response to your pointed words.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, your frustration with him boiling over. "Whatever, Barnes. Keep your doubts to yourself."

You began packing up your belongings, a clear signal that you were ready to depart from his presence. You suspected he was still watching you, his intense gaze never wavering, but you wanted nothing more than to distance yourself from him. It felt like he was deliberately keeping you from the mission, and the resentment simmered within you.

After finishing packing, you headed towards the exit, but Bucky halted you by grabbing your hand. You turned around, irritation clear in your eyes. "What do you want, Barnes?" you snapped, trying to pull your hand away. “What the hell? Let me go!”

Ignoring your protest, he led you back to the training area, placing you in front of him. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach. Did he intend to spar with you? The uncertainty hung heavily in the air, making the atmosphere tense.

You stood your ground, your nervousness growing with every passing second. "What? Scared?" Bucky teased, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, refusing to let his taunts unnerve you. You managed a fake smile and replied, "Of you? No. Why would I be?" Determined not to show any fear.

Bucky's smirk widened as he said, "Well, you should be." He locked eyes with you and asked, "Ready?" The challenge in his tone was clear.

You took another deep breath, squared your shoulders, and met his gaze head-on. "Alright, Bucky. I'm game. What's the plan?" Your voice remained steady, even as your nerves continued to buzz beneath the surface.

Bucky's lips curved into a smirk. He motioned towards the training mats, his movements smooth and practiced. "Just try to land a hit on me."

Without a moment's warning, he lunged at you, his attack swift and precise. You barely managed to block it in time, the impact sending a jolt through your arms.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you felt a sting to your pride. "Just one hit?" you questioned, a mixture of disbelief and defiance in your voice. Did he genuinely doubt your abilities? Determination flared in your eyes as you prepared to prove him wrong.

He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't get ahead of yourself, doll. Come on, you're starting to bore me." You gritted your teeth and launched into your counterattack.

The atmosphere in the training room grew tense as you continued your attempts to land a hit on Bucky. Each time you launched an attack, he seemed to anticipate your every move, effortlessly blocking your punches and kicks. It was as if he had an innate ability to read your intentions, and it left you feeling frustrated and somewhat helpless.

With each failed attempt, Bucky's smirk grew wider, and he let out a low chuckle. "Come on, Y/N," he taunted, his tone dripping with playful mockery. "You've got to do better than that if you want to stand a chance."

His words stung, and they fueled your determination. You were well aware that Bucky was pushing your buttons, trying to rile you up, but you refused to let it show. You had a point to prove, not only to him but to yourself as well.

You decided to take another shot, launching into a new round of attacks, hoping to catch Bucky off guard. But just like before, he expertly caught your wrist each time, preventing your strikes from connecting. Frustration gnawed at you, and you let out an audible groan each time he effortlessly pinned your arms behind your back and pushed you back.

Bucky didn't hold back with his taunts either. "Is that the best you've got, doll?" he prodded, his gaze locked onto yours. "I've seen other recruits do better. What happened to all those praises they were singing about you?"

Taking a deep breath, you tried to surprise him with a sudden kick, but Bucky saw through your move. He even managed to catch your legs mid-kick, causing you to lose your balance and tumble to the ground.

His voice dripped with mock disappointment as he quipped, "Doll, I expected better than that. That was just plain bad."

You took a deep breath, frustration fueling your determination. This time, you decided to go all out. You lunged at him with full force, no holding back, hoping to land a solid hit. His dodge and blocks were frustratingly precise, but you didn't give in.

Finally, you managed to back him into a wall, and you saw an opening. You went for a powerful kick, but he swiftly caught your leg, pulling it towards him. Before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall, your front pressed firmly against the hard surface.

"Doll, nice try," Bucky said, his tone edged with approval, "but you've still got long ways to go."

You groaned as he pinned you to the wall, frustrated since you couldn't beat him. "Fuck!"

He chuckled lowly, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, his face mere inches from yours. "Language, sweetheart."

The feeling of his body pressed against yours sent tingles down your spine, and you tried to keep your breathing under control, your cheeks flushing.

Bucky seemed to notice your blush and couldn't resist a teasing remark. He leaned in even closer, his voice dripping with playful mischief. “What's the matter, doll? Is it too hot in here?" he teased, pressing himself closer to you.

Your blush deepened as he teased you, and you turned your head away from him, not able to meet his gaze. "You know what? You're seriously annoying."

Bucky's smile only grew wider, and he didn't let up. "Aw, come on, doll. Getting all worked up because you can't keep up?" he goaded, his warm breath tickling your neck. His face was even closer now, his eyes dark with a look you'd never seen before.

You huffed in exasperation, determined not to let his teasing get the best of you. "I can keep up just fine, thank you very much," you shot back, your competitive spirit coming to the forefront.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "Well then," he challenged, his tone inviting. "Prove it. Try to break free from my hold."

Your breath caught in your throat at the suggestion, a rush of adrenaline surging through your veins. "Okay," you agreed, your tone confident. You decided to take Bucky's challenge head-on.

With a swift and calculated move, you attempted to break free from his hold, using all the skills you had acquired during your training with the Avengers. Bucky, ever the skilled fighter, didn't make it easy, but you were determined not to give in.

You tried and tried, but you couldn't seem to break free from his strong hold. You were both sweating, the effort causing the air around you to grow thicker and heavier. You could feel his chest pressed against your body, muscles flexing as he maintained the firm grip he had on you.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you were both breathing heavily, neither of you willing to give in. In that moment, with your bodies pressed together and the heat between you almost unbearable, something changed. You felt his hold on you loosen slightly, and you took the opportunity to spin around, pinning him to the wall.

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips, clearly caught off guard by your sudden move. His eyes, filled with desire, locked onto yours, and the tension between you seemed to reach a boiling point.

You couldn't help but smirk as you managed to gain the upper hand, "Huh, I wi-" But before you could finish, he swiftly turned the tables, pinning you back against the wall.

He chuckled, his voice low and husky. "Not quite, doll." He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, his voice low.

You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his arm pressing against your skin. "You were saying?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear.

You bit your lip, feeling the tension between you reach a fever pitch. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Your frustration bubbled up, and you couldn't help but shake your head in response. "That's not fair!" you protested, your voice tinged with exasperation. "I managed to break free from your hold. Doesn't that count for something?"

He chuckled, "Not it doesn't. You've still got a lot to learn. I could've easily gotten the upper hand on you again. The moment you let your guard down is the moment you lose the fight."

You clenched your jaw and stared into his blue eyes, not backing down from his challenge. "Okay enough with the taunting. I'm not afraid of you, Barnes."

His lips were so close, you could feel his breath against your skin. "You should be, doll," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

A moment passed between the two of you, and then, as if a dam had broken, he kissed you hard, it made you surprised, you gasped on his mouth and felt his tongue exploring you.

Your heart was pounding, the excitement building as you kissed him back. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the heat between you grew.

"God, Y/N," he groaned against your mouth. His metal hand reached for your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He pressed you harder against the wall, his hips grinding against yours. You moaned at the friction, feeling your body responding to his touch.

The training room was forgotten as the two of you gave in to your desires, the heat between you driving you both wild. You knew it was a bad idea, but in that moment, you didn't care. All that mattered was the pleasure, the heat, the intensity of it all.

"Bucky..." You panted, feeling his lips and teeth exploring your neck, his tongue licking you, tasting you.

The sound of his name on your lips sent him over the edge, and he couldn't hold back anymore. His hands found their way under your yoga pants, gripping your ass. He bit down on your lip, drawing a small moan from you. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

"Fuck, doll. You like this? Me fucking you against the wall?" he groaned against your mouth.

You nodded, unable to form any coherent words. “Tell me, do you want more?"

"Yes," you breathed, your body trembling with need.

"Tell me," he ordered, his voice husky with desire.

"I want you, Bucky…. please."

"Beg for it," he growled, his hands moving to the front of your yoga pants. He tugged them down, the cold air hitting your wet core, his hand quickly finding its way between your thighs. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, doll," he muttered, his fingers slipping into your panties, finding your wetness. "So fucking wet for me.” His fingers slid inside you, making you gasp, your hips bucking against him. "Is this what you want, doll?"

"Yes!" you cried out, your hands grasping at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. "Please," you moaned, your hips bucking against his.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, making you writhe and moan beneath him. "Such a good girl," he murmured, his free hand coming up to grip your breast. He groped you hard, squeezing and massaging you through your sports bra.

"Put your hands up," he commanded, pulling his fingers out of you. You complied, your hands reaching above your head. He pulled up your bra, exposing your breasts to him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. You moaned, your hips bucking against him as he sucked and nibbled on your breasts.

"So responsive," he chuckled, his hand reaching between your legs once again, his fingers dipping into your wetness. "Such a wet little girl. You're dripping for me."

"You like this?" He growled, his fingers rubbing your clit, his thumb sliding up and down your slick folds. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine, "Tell me were you already wet when we started sparring? Did you want me to pin you against the wall? To fuck you hard?"

You couldn't respond, the pleasure was too much. You were teetering on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment. "Please, Bucky..." you gasped, your hips grinding against his hand, desperately seeking release.

"You're a naughty girl, aren't you? You want me to fuck you, right here, in the training room, where anyone could walk in and see us?"

He was right, you didn't even think of that possibility. You shook your head, "No.. of course not... it's just the heat of the moment... It's just... we're alone right now."

"You sure about that, doll? Cause I'm pretty sure I heard someone walk by a few minutes ago. What if it was Clint? Or worse, what if it was Fury? I bet he would love to see this. His little protégé, getting fucked by the Winter Soldier."

You froze, your eyes wide.

"You know what?" He chuckled, "Let's put on a show for them. Let them watch. Let them see how you beg and scream for me."

“Cat’s got your tongue doll? Where are all the firey comebacks now? Nothing to say?” Your mind was in a state of shock. You tried to think, who was it? But Bucky was stroking you at a relentless pace, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.  

"You want me to make you cum, doll? To make you scream my name?"

"Yes," you panted, you didn’t care anymore, all you wanted was release. Your body trembling as he drove you closer to the edge.

He reached up, gripping your chin, his eyes locking onto yours. "I've wanted to fuck your attitude out of you ever since you came to the compound, doll,” he said, his voice husky with lust. "Watching you fight, all that fire, all that passion, it makes me so fucking hard. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to take you right here, to show you who's in control."

You couldn't take it anymore, the pleasure building, "I'm so close... Bucky," you moaned. You were so close, and he was taking you to new heights. You couldn't stop yourself, you could feel yourself losing control.

"Yeah I can tell, you're tightening around my fingers. Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Beg for it, and maybe I'll let you," he teased, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, faster and faster, sending you over the edge.

"Please, Bucky..." you cried, your hips bucking against his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you whined in frustration. "What the hell, Barnes?”

"Now, now," he tsked, his fingers trailing down your stomach, and stopping at your hip. "You don't get to come until I say so, doll," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous.

"But, please, I'm so close," you begged, the frustration almost unbearable.

"I know, but you need to learn who's in charge, and it's not you," he said, his fingers tracing circles around your clit, making you moan. "You have to obey my orders, Y/N."

"What the fuck, Barnes!" You screamed at him feeling angry at how he toyed with you. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He grabbed your hair and pulled it down making you winched in pain, "What did you fucking say to me?" He grabbed it harder when you didn’t answer him.

"Ouch." You winced in pain.

Bucky's eyes darkened and he tightened his grip. “First, you need to watch that mouth of yours." He was breathing heavily, his voice rough and commanding. "Or I'm going to shove my dick in it and put you in your place." he warned, his hand moving to grip your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

You gulped down at his threat. There was no mistaking the promise in his voice, but your pussy clenched at the thought of taking him into your mouth.  

"Second," he continued, his grip loosening slightly. "You need to learn that you don't get to question my orders, doll. You're going to be a good girl and listen."

You stared at him, unable to speak. He was serious.

"Answer me Y/N or I will leave you here, frustrated and wanting more," He threatened.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, his dominance and authority turning you on even more.

"Yes please, I'll obey," you said, your voice shaking slightly.

"Good girl, that’s more like it," he murmured, his metal hand coming up to caress your cheek. Bucky leaned closer and kissed your lips, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. He was sucking on your tongue and nibbling on your lips, his teeth digging into the soft flesh of your mouth. He kissed your cheek and moved down to your neck.

"Now, where are we?" He asked, his fingers back on your clit, rubbing in slow, agonizing circles. He was torturing you, teasing you.

He smiled wickedly, his hand moving from your clit and slipping inside you. He pushed two fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

You wanted to scream and yell at him, but you were unable to speak, the pleasure and the need for release overwhelming. You were panting and moaning, your eyes closed shut as you were trying not to come.

"Not yet." he growled. He pushed a third fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

"Beg," he commanded, his voice firm.

"Please, please, please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Louder," he ordered.

"Please!" you whimpered, the desire and need taking over. "Please, Bucky, fuck my pussy and let me come," you begged. You felt your inside tightening, you need to come right now.

Bucky leaned closer and kissed you again, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, exploring every inch. He moaned into your mouth, his fingers still pumping into you, his thumb circling your clit. "No," he said, and your eyes snapped open, meeting his blue ones. He smirked, seeing that you were close. "If you come before I tell you, I will punish you, doll."

Your eyes widened and your whole body shook with fear.

"Do you understand?" He asked, his fingers slowly pumping inside you.

"Yes, yes, I understand."

He chuckled, "You're a needy little slut, aren't you? You'd beg for my cock too, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," you moaned, the word falling from your lips without a second thought. "Please, Bucky, I need to come. I need your cock inside me, fucking me hard and fast," you begged, the words tumbling from your lips.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his fingers picking up their pace. "You're gonna cum for me now, doll. You're gonna cum all over my fingers, and then, when you've recovered, you're gonna get on your knees and suck my cock. And when I'm ready, I'm gonna fuck you, and I'm gonna make you scream my name."

You moaned loudly as his fingers brought you closer to the edge, his words sending a thrill through you.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, doll? Having my cock buried deep inside you, fucking you senseless?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you panted, the pleasure building. He added another finger and curled them inside you, hitting your g-spot, and you gasped.

"That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his fingers moving faster. "Come for me. Let me hear you."

"I... I'm gonna..." you moaned, the pleasure building in your body. You couldn't hold back any longer, the pleasure overwhelming you,

"Come now!," he ordered his fingers working even faster, and suddenly, you exploded.

"BUCKY!" You screamed, your body shaking violently as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body was trembling, and your juices were flowing freely down his fingers

"Such a good girl," he praised, his fingers slowing, drawing out the last of your orgasm, licking them clean. “Delicious," he murmured.

You panted, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. He lowered you to the floor, your legs shaky from the intense pleasure.

Bucky chuckled, seeing the confusion on your face. "Don't worry, doll," he said, leaning down and kissing you. "We're just getting started."

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice husky with desire.

Your knees trembled and you looked up at him. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You did as you were told, dropping to your knees. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, and you obeyed. "Suck my cock." His voice firm and authoritative

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him slowly unzip his pants, his thick, hard cock springing free. You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him. The serum must did something to him, as his member was definitely bigger than any man you'd seen before.

"Now," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "Don't be shy," he coaxed, his eyes dark with lust.

You slowly reached up and grasped his thick shaft in your hand, feeling the hot, smooth skin, marveling at the size of him. You felt a jolt of excitement run through your body as you stroked his length, feeling him twitch in your hand. You could feel yourself growing wet as you continued to stroke his cock, his member growing even harder under your touch.

His fingers tangling in your hair  "Now, put my cock in your pretty mouth, doll," he said, his voice thick with desire.

You lowered your head and opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You licked the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it, tasting his salty pre-cum. He groaned, his hips bucking as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down.

You hummed around him, the vibration making him moan. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling at the roots as you worked your mouth up and down his shaft, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You felt a surge of pleasure run through your body as you sucked his cock, loving the taste and feel of him in your mouth. You could feel his grip tightening on your hair as you continued to suck him, your tongue dancing along his length.

You didn't have any practice beforehand, but you are naturally gifted hearing praises, such as "Mmm, that's it.”, "Just like that.", “Fuck, you are good.” and the way his thighs trembled beside your ears were a tell-tale sign that you were doing great.

"You look so good like this," he moaned, his hand holding onto the back of your head, guiding your mouth over his cock. "I've imagined you sucking me off before."

His words made you moan around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

"You're taking my cock so well, like you were made for it."

You whimpered around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat once again. The feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth, the taste of him, and the way he praised you were pushing you closer to the edge.

"God, your mouth feels so fucking good," he moaned, his hips thrusting as he fucked your mouth. "Such a good little slut, aren't you, doll?"

You felt your pussy clench at his words, your arousal growing with every stroke of his cock. You bobbed your head faster, taking him deeper into your mouth, loving the sounds of his moans.

His fingers tugged at your hair, the pain and pleasure mixing together to send another rush of pleasure through your body. You moaned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock, causing him to thrust deeper into your mouth.

You whimpered, your eyes watering as he pounded into your mouth. You could barely breathe, his thick cock stretching your throat as he fucked your mouth. Your pussy throbbed, your arousal coating your thighs as he mouth-fucked you.

"Oh yeah, you love this, don't you?" He groaned. "You love choking on my cock." As he thrust his cock into your mouth, his hands travelled to your breast, squeezing them hard, making you moan.

He groaned as you continued to suck, his grip on your hair tightening, the pain sending another wave of pleasure through your body. He was fucking your mouth ruthless, the wet slurping sounds were the only sound in the room. And the sounds he was making was almost enough to make you cum.

It became harder to breath with each stroke of his cock meeting the back of your throat, tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

He looked down at you, the sight of your mouth around his cock was almost enough to make him cum. He pulled out of your mouth with a loud pop, leaving you gasping for breath and tears running down your face.

"Look at you, what a mess you are," he smirked, his eyes raking over your body. "You're such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

You felt your face flush, his words making your pussy ache with need. You whimpered, the need to be filled by his cock becoming unbearable.

"Do you want me to fuck you, doll? Do you want me to fuck you so hard, you can't walk tomorrow?"

You moaned, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, please," you begged, your voice hoarse. "Please, fuck me, Bucky." You couldn’t think straight, you had no filter, you were just saying whatever came to mind.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back. "Say it," he growled, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"Please, Bucky," you said, your voice pleading.

"Try better than that," he said, his voice firm.

"Please fuck me, Sergeant," you whimpered, your voice laced with desperation. "Please fuck me hard and fast until I can't walk. Please use me however you want."

He smiled wickedly. "Your words, not mine. Be careful for what you wish for, doll."

He shoved you onto the floor, his body looming over you. "On the floor. On all fours now," he ordered, his voice stern and commanding.

You scrambled to comply, getting onto your hands and knees. Your heart racing as he positioned himself behind you.

"Spread your legs," he said, and you complied.

He knelt behind you, his hands roaming over your body, caressing your skin. You could feel his hands on your hips, his cock rubbing against your wetness.

"Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you, Y/N?" He whispered, his voice low and husky.

You stayed quiet waiting for him. "I'm gonna make you scream and beg for me, I'm gonna make you forget everything, except my name."

His words sent a shiver through your body, his tone full of dominance and power.

"And when I'm done with you, you'll never forget me, Y/N. You'll always remember me, remember the way I made you feel."

You could feel his hardness pressing against your entrance, teasing you, tormenting you. His hands running over your ass. "But I'm not gonna go easy on you. You understand?"

"Yes," you moaned, your voice breathy. "I understand."

"Good girl," he said, and with that, he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body quivering as he stretched you. "Such a tight little cunt," he groaned, his hips snapping against you, his cock buried deep inside of you. "So fucking perfect."

You cried out, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He started to move, his pace slow and steady, his cock stretching you with each thrust.

"Oh god," you moaned, your voice echoing in the room.

"You like that, Y/N?" As he slammed his cock into you, his voice full of lust.

"Yes," you moaned, the sensation driving you wild.

"That's right, doll, take my cock," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Take all of it." He was rough, his pace fast and unforgiving, his cock filling you to the brim with every thrust. You cried out, the pleasure and pain mingling into a sweet symphony.

You moaned, your body shaking as he fucked you. He was pounding into you, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in a haze of lust and desire. "Who's pussy is this?," He asked.

"It's yours," you gasped, your body trembling.

"Say it again," he commanded, his thrusts growing faster and harder.

"It's yours," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Fucking right it is," he growled, his voice low and husky.

He was pounding into you, his pace relentless. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the air.

He yanked your hair, forcing your head back and you whimpered. He kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth. His teeth dug into your bottom lip, making you moan.

"Who's a dirty little slut?" He demanded, his hips slapping against yours.

"Me," you gasped, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. "I'm a dirty little slut, Bucky."

"That's right," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You're my dirty little slut, and I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You’re fucking mine."

Your body trembled, your muscles tensing as his cock slammed into you. You could feel the pleasure building, the pressure mounting inside of you. You were so close, and you needed him to finish you off. "Oh god, I’m so close," you begged, your voice desperate and needy.

"Not yet," he snarled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You'll cum when I say so, and not a moment before."

"Please," you begged, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. "Please let me cum, Bucky."

"Soon, doll," he promised, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Very soon." He knew you almost came and he decided to torture you further when his fingers finding your clit and he pressed down hard.

You cried out, the pleasure and pain becoming too much. "Oh god," you whimpered, your body trembling. "Please, I can't take it."

He slammed his cock into you, his balls slapping against your clit. "Yes, you can," he growled. "And you will."

You whimpered, the pressure inside of you reaching a breaking point. "Bucky, please please please," you begged, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

"Now," he commanded, his voice harsh and commanding. "Cum for me, doll."

You cried out, the pleasure exploding throughout your body. Your walls clenched around his cock, your muscles spasming. Your mind went blank, the world around you fading away. Your body was shaking uncontrollably as he fucked you through your orgasm, his hips snapping against you, his cock pounding into you.

You were exhausted, your body drained of energy. He continued to fuck you, his pace slowing slightly.

He slapped your ass, the sting of his hand sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. "Such a good little slut," he growled, his hips slamming against yours. "Taking my cock so well."

"Bucky," you moaned, the pleasure building once again. "Please, I can't take anymore."

"Yes, you can," he said, his voice low and husky. He slapped your ass again, harder this time. "You're going to cum for me again, doll."

"No," you protested weakly, your body trembling with exhaustion.

“Yes," he growled, his thrusts becoming more intense. "You will." His metal hand sliding up your stomach, between your breasts, and around your throat.

Your body arched, pushing your hips further onto his cock. The sound of his ragged breaths mixed with yours as you both raced towards your climaxes. "I'm close, Y/N. So fucking close."

His hands pinched your nipples, sending another shock of pleasure through your body. He sucked on them, the sensation almost too much for you. You whimpered, his lips capturing yours again. Your tongues swirled around each other, tasting, devouring.

His cock slid in and out of you, his pace quickening. His moans and growls echoed around you as his orgasm neared. He was so close. So was you.

"Please, Bucky," you begged, your pussy clenching around his length.

He tightened his grip on your throat and slammed his hips into yours. His free hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles over it. His eyes meeting yours. his hips slapping against yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.

"Cum with me, doll. Don't close your eyes. I want to see those pretty eyes as you come apart."

Your entire body shuddered, his command sending you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his length, milking him of his seed. Your body trembled, your muscles spasming as you rode out the waves of ecstasy. His breath becoming ragged as his own release neared.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips slapping against you. "Your cunt is so fucking perfect."

"God, yes," you moaned, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

He slammed into you, his pace becoming erratic as he neared his release. "Oh god," he moaned, his hips snapping against yours. "I'm gonna cum."

"Yes, Bucky. Cum inside me," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your words were enough to send him over the edge.

He growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you, his cock filling you completely. He groaned as he cum, his body shuddering as his release washed over him.

"That's right," he groaned, his body going limp. "Take all of it." You felt him twitch inside of you, his hot release spilling into you.

You slumped forward, your body spent as it slick with sweat and cum.  You could hear Bucky panting behind you, his chest heaving. You rested your forehead against the floor, trying to catch your breath. You had never been fucked so thoroughly in your life. Your muscles were sore and tired, your pussy throbbing.

Bucky was still inside of you, his cock softening. He pulled out, his cum spilling out of you. You could feel his cum leaking from your pussy, dripping down your thighs. "Look at that," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Such a pretty sight." He slid a finger between your folds, collecting the sticky mess, then he pushed it back inside you. You let out a small whimper as he slowly pumped it in and out.

Bucky turned you around, your head falling back against the floor. His face hovered above yours, his blue eyes burning with lust. He looked down at you, before he could say anything, you both heard footsteps approaching.

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then the next thing made your heart skipped as you heard the doorknob turning. You could only pray the ground to swallow you whole.

Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the story! Apologies if the ending didn't meet your expectations, I'm considering a Part 2, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm open to any feedback for improvement. Your input means a lot.

If you want to see more, please show your support by leaving a like. Thank you for taking the time to read!

A/N : Thank you so much for the kind replies and support! I'm really glad you enjoy the story, you have no idea how much that motivate me to continue writing. Please stay tune for part 2! Love youuuu xx

[imthebadguyyy]

Coming Back Home To You

pairing : steve rogers x reader

fandom : marvel/avengers

synopsis : after a new threat wreak havoc on the team, steve suggests a safehouse with a surprise awaiting them inside.

a/n : inspired majorly by clints house!!

warnings : mentions of mind control and injuries etc. typical marvel stuff

the quinjet is completely silent, apart from the quiet hum of the engine. the entire team is still, dark shapes in the dimly lit cabin, everyone in varying levels of disarray.

natasha sits completely still, eyes staring unseeingly at the large console while a worried bruce sits beside her, combing her short red locks behind her ears. thor sits across from them, hand trembling slightly as it gripped mjolnir, mouth pressed in a thin line.

clint sits on the other end of the space, eyes squeezed shut as his wife spoke softly from the phone, reassuring him the 4 of them were all okay. tony sits a little away from him, his hands gripping his phone, staring at the picture of pepper and him peeking out at him.

wanda sits next to steve, her eyes wet with unshed tears, glimmering in the fading sunshine. steve casts worried glances in her direction from time to time, as he commanders the jet, the coordinates set in as he informs maria about where they're going. bucky sits on the other side, quiet, but not as badly affected as the rest. he had stayed on the jet for the majority of the time.

"i think we need a small break. some time to reset. whatever these things are, we need a break okay?" he says, voice firm. his team is down and he needs to look after them.

"where are you going to take them?" maria hill's voice fills the empty space. "a safehouse. fury knows where" is his cryptic response and she furrows a brow, but decides if fury knows, it's safe enough.

"okay. keep me posted" she replies, and logs off. steve takes a deep breath and wonders how it all went so wrong. one minute they were taking down the hydra base, and the second, they had all been blasted black, minds trapped in a simulation of them carrying out their deepest fears.

even wanda had been caught off guard, and before they knew it, bucky had brought the jet closer and steve was struggling off the ground to get the others back into the jet, back to safety.

they had all remained entrapped, until one by one it broke and they all snapped out gasping and shaking.

the sky is fading, a soft orange shade similar to ripe peaches, streaks of golden sunshine peeking out occasionally, as they sped away from the city, white clouds becoming more and more prominent as they reached the countryside.

after what felt like hours, steve landed the jet in what seemed like an isolated farmland, acres of green land and small dairy farms in smatterings across the area.

"where are we?" thor asked, helping wanda get to her feet. "yeah cap, are you sure this place is safe? it seems deserted" tony said, hiding the slight quiver in his knees.

"it's safe" he confirmed, helping bruce get natasha to her feet. "just have to walk for 5 minutes to the left" he continued, leading the way.

the team followed silently behind, trudging like a pack of kicked puppies, exhaustion laced on every line on all their faces.

"how do you know this place is safe?" clint asked, striding up to catch up with steve. "you'll see" he responded, smiling softly when a large house came into view.

"oh.." clint said, eyes brightening as he looked to steve for confirmation. he gave him a small smile in response.

a beautiful rustic, wooden house stood surrounded by what seemed like never ending green farmland. a beautiful wooden shed stood beside the house, and pretty flower pots and trees trailed around the house.

a beautiful patio was at the back of the house, with a small outdoor fire place and covered in fairy lights and small light bulbs, with a small table and couches.

it seemed to scream homely and comforting,and seemed to exude an aura of warmth. clint took in the place with a smile, noting the swing set and slide in the yard, and assorted collection of children's toys in the backyard.

"what is this place?" wanda muttered groggily, holding onto thor for support. "you'll see, but please wipe your feet on the mat" he said, gently pushing the front door of the house open.

what greeted them was the scent of vanilla and musk, oakwood and patchouli, and the subtle whiff of pinecones. the hallway was bright and sunny, pretty paintings and photos decorating the walls. there were small figurines made of ceramic, that looked hand painted.

as steve turned the corner, natasha noted the way he kept glancing up the long staircase, eyes glimmering with what looked like endless adoration.

"sweetheart?" he called softly, taking off his shield and setting it down on a shoe rack, that looked like it was made for his shield.

he neared the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon filled the air, and thors tummy rumbled loudly.

"steve?" came a honeyed voice, and the team was able to put a face to the voice when a gorgeous woman made her way out from behind the stove. she had eyes that sparkled softly, crinkled in a bright smile as she looked at their captain. she had an elegance to her, an aura of gentility and kindness that seemed to radiata in the brightness of her smile.

she was clad in a soft summer sundress dress, a pretty white dress that was covered in blue flowers, flowing just below her knees. they watched her eyes widen in joy, and rush towards steve, who pulled her into his arms, head burying into her neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her plush waist, pressing soft kisses to her shoulders, before pulling away and pressing his lips to her own, a deep, passionate kiss that took his breath away.

"hi sweetheart" he murmured against her lips before drawing back, suddenly hyper-aware of his team. "you're home!" the woman exclaimed again a soft laugh leaving her lips. "yes I am, and i have a few guests darling, i hope that's alright?" he asked, gently cradling her head in his palm

"uh sure! hi!" you said, waving kindly to the disheveled team. bruce smiled at you, confusion still present in his eyes, while thor and wanda gave you warm smiles. natasha looked at you giving you a once over, before flashing you a weak smile. she decided she liked your kind eyes.

"y/n!" bucky exclaimed, rushing forward to pull you into a tight hug. you laughed, squeezing him, before pulling back to assess him. "hi buck! how are you?"

the super soldier grinned at you, eyes flashing with an odd expression as he shook his head sadly. "I'm okay"

"care to introduce the rest of us?" tony chimed in awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"guys, meet my wife, y/n l/n rogers." steve said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in close to him.

"i know all your names" you confessed, playing with the string of your dress nervously as they all said hello softly.

"how long have you been married?" bruce asked, slowly warming up to his captains wife.

"about five years. fury helped me set this up like he helped clint. didn't want her getting involved in the dangers of being married to an avenger. thats why I don't wear my ring around everyone" he said, answering the questions on everyones lips.

"it's nice to meet you" wanda said shyly, and you gave her an encouraging smile.

"why don't you guys go and get changed and bathed? there's three bathrooms in here and a wash room in the shed in case you don't want to wait" you said , going towards the oven to turn it off. "I have some fresh cinnamon rolls and chocolate chip cookies in the oven, and i can have a cold jug of lemonade ready for you by the time you're done getting changed" you said, leaning down to make sure everything was done baking.

"where are my two troublemakers?" steve asked quietly, not wanting to spoil the biggest surprise of all. you smiled, pointing towards the staircase. "let me call them for you-" before you could finish, the thundering of footsteps became audible and you shared an amused glance with bucky.

"daddy!" two gleeful voices filled the air and two blue eyed, pigtailed figures came running into the kitchen, clad in denim dungarees and white shirts.

"hi my loves!" steve said, scooping both his daughters into his arms, laughing when they squealed and kissed his cheeks.

"we missed you!" the girl on the left said, burrowing into her dad. "so much!" the girl on the right completed, squishing his cheeks.

"guys, meet sarah marie rogers and stella jamie rogers" steve smiled proudly, to an awe struck group of avengers who had their jaws on the floor.

"you have children?!?!" natasha said, mouth agape as she stared at the twins in steve's arms. "actual puny little humans?" thor said, eyes as wide as saucers.

clint just laughed, waving to the little girls. stella buried her face in her dad's neck, clearly the more reserved of the two, while sarah waved brightly back at him.

"uncle bucky!" sarah exclaimed, reaching for the man who took her with a laugh, spinning her around. "hello little angel! I've missed you!" he laughed, ruffling her hair softly.

you watched your daughter's reuniting with their father, a soft smile on your face. how you had missed him!

"well, I guess captain america's got more than just his shield to protect now! who knew old cap could multitask? i wonder if he still gives the 'I can do this all day' speech during diaper changes." tony chimed in, smirking at steve.

you laughed at the comment, shaking his hand warmly. "yeah he does sometimes" you smirked, earning a look of betrayal from your husband while wanda and clint laughed.

"woah you're black widow!" sarah said, looking wide eyed at natasha. "you're my favourite avenger!" she exclaimed, earning a chuckle from the assassin, who raised her hand up for a high five.

"whose your favourite?" clint asked stella, his fatherly instincts kicking in.

stella mumbled something softly, still holding on to her daddy. "tell him sweetie, thats hawkeye, remember i told you about him?" steve urged gently, softly pushing his daughter's long locks away from her eyes.

"my favourite is thor" she mumbled, eyes widening as she took in the asgardian. steve watched as the god visibly melted, a bright smile on his face as he strode over to the little girl.

"it appears that i am the mightiest avenger in the eyes of the smallest mortal! dear child k if you require any tips on wielding a tiny hammer or battling bedtime monsters, you know who to call. i humbly acclaim myself your immortal servant" he said seriously, holding out his large hand for a handshake.

stella just turned away, shy and flustered at the hulking avenger before saying a soft "okay" earning a laugh from bucky.

"she's just a kid thor" bruce said, looking up from the paintings around the room. "did you guys paint these?" he asked, looking in awe of the paintings. "daddy did some and we did some" sarah responded, still happily snuggled in her uncle's arms.

"wow" wanda said, examining one of a field of tulips. "which one of you painted this?" she asked, looking over at you. "me" a shy voice responded as stella spoke up. "oh you're so talented!" wanda said, voice still soft. she related to this quiet child, and felt an immediate connect with her.

"t-thank you" she said, offering her a sugar sweet smile. "do you want to see my other paintings and crafts?" she asked, slowly clambering off her dad's lap, and walking carefully over to the sokovian.

"I'd love that!" she said, leaning her hands towards the little girl, who took her hand in her own.

"uncle bucky, do you want to help me build my trampoline?" sarah asked, arms looped around his neck. "sure sweetheart, we can do that".

"darling, let's let them all get comfortable first okay?" you interrupted, smiling when your younger twin (sarah) came bounding over to you for a hug.

"okay mama, I'm gonna go and show stella and auntie wanda some of my drawings too!" she said and she was shooting off like lightning again, but not before hugging her dad's knees and saying "i love you daddy!" again to steve.

as the team dispersed to the various bathrooms, steve led you up to your bedroom, closing the door behind you two.

"my sweet baby, I've missed you so much" he said, advancing towards you, cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging you close, forehead resting gently against yours.

"I've missed you more. are you okay? how come you're here?" you asked, brushing his sandy blonde locks away from his forehead.

his blue eyes clouded over and his grip on you tightened. "i thought i-" his voice broke and you immediately wrapped your arms around him, hearing him take a deep stuttering breath.

"there was this new hydra variant. some element of mind control. I saw you and the girls...lying here... cold and..." his voice broke and he pulled back, thumb grabbing your chin to yank you into a kiss.

he needed to feel you. to physically feel and make sure you were alive and right there with him.

"I'm right here steve, right here my darling. I'm okay, the girls are okay. and were all right here." you chanted like a mantra, stroking his hair.

he pulled you into a kiss again, messy, teeth and tongue clashing, hands roaming your waist, hips and finally resting in your hair and one hand on your waist.

"i love you" he murmured, eyes never leaving yours as he leaned back. "i love you more" you whispered back, slowly pushing him to sit down. "let's get you changed honey" you said, drawing a warm bath as you slipped into the bathroom.

steve took a deep breath.

it was all going to be okay.

he was finally home.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : let me know if this should have more parts!! was thinking of one with multiple scenarios of them bonding together, explaining their names etc etc! let me know!! I'm always open to chat too xoxox

happy reading!! ♥️

TAGS

all writing - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

marvel -

to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm specifying which fandom 🩷

[vbecker10]

I have a request if you're not too busy

So the reader is the lead singer of a hex girls tribute band and Tony hires them for a Halloween party. While singing the song "cast a spell on you" she catches the attention of Loki, Who is very captivated with this so-called witch.

I love your work and oftentimes feel spoiled with how many fix you produce 🖤💙💚💜

Loki's Little Witch

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You are the lead singer of the band hired to play at the Avengers Halloween party. You quickly catch Loki's attention and for the first time, he decides to stay until the end of the party.

A/N: @crimson25 I absolutely love this request! Thank you so much for sending it! I hope you like it 💚💚

"How are things going?", Tony Stark's voice interrupts your thoughts while you set up your microphone stand.

"Mr. Stark," you turn to see him dressed as Beetlejuice. "It's going really well. We're almost done setting up."

"Good to hear, the guests should be arriving in about fifteen minutes," he reminds you as Pepper walks over to him, wearing a red wedding dress.

"We are definitely going to be done with all of this before then," you confirm and he gives you a thumbs up. You look at your band mates then back at Tony, "Mr. Stark, we just wanted to thank you again for this opportunity. This is the largest event we've ever played at."

Pepper laughs while adjusting his tie and says, "I think Tony might be more excited than you are."

"I can't help it, I love the Hex Girls," he explains. "When I stumbled across your tribute page, I knew I needed to book you for this party."

True to your word, your band has finished setting up a few minutes before the doors open. The large room seems to fill up almost immediately but instead of being nervous, you couldn't be more ready. You introduce yourself and your band to the crowd and begin the first song.

You dance across the largest stage you've ever been on, matching the rhythm of the song as you sing the opening lyrics. Looking out into the crowd, you fill with pride when most of the guests begin dancing or signing along. This isn't just any crowd, you realize as you quickly recognize most of the guests despite their expensive and well crafted costumes. There are the Avengers, of course, but also some incredibly well known actors and even a few musicians you idolize. Your heart races with excitement but you know you need to pace yourself, it is still only the first song of the night.

Midway through the second song, your attention is pulled from the middle of the crowd to the rear doors when they open suddenly. Thor walks in, turning more than a few heads. The God of Thunder is dressed as a viking, complete with his golden hair in long braids and a fur lined cape. You continue to sing but are unsure if that should be allowed to count as a costume. Then you notice Thor is physically dragging someone with him as he walks through the guests.

You can't help but smile as you sing, seeing his large hand wrapped around his younger brother's bicep. The raven haired prince walks with his head down next to his older brother, leaving no doubt that he has no desire to be here tonight.

The God of Mischief is the only guest not in costume this evening. Even you and your friends in the band dressed up for the night. You had chosen a black dress with a short witches hat and black lipstick, deciding to lean into the witch look a bit more than usual since this is such a large party. You can't decide if Loki not dressing up is his silent protest against coming or because he simply knew the suit he wore looked stunning on him. He is wearing a perfectly fitted three piece, black suit with a matching black dress shirt and tie.

You continue to sing and dance across the stage but your eyes follow the two Asgardians. They make their way to the bar but as soon as their drinks arrive, Thor spots Jane and abandons his sibling without a moment's hesitation. Loki shakes his head as he takes a seat and clears away some of the Halloween themed glitter around his drink.

You watch him sigh then conjure a thick leather bound book to read and decide your goal for the night is to make sure he enjoys the party. The third song begins and you smile, knowing it is the perfect song to get the attention of someone with magic.

I'm gonna cast a spell on you.

He turns on his stool as you start your favorite song in the lineup and your eyes met briefly.

You're gonna do what I want you to.

Mix it up here in my little bowl,

say a few words and you lose control.

You sing to the crowd dancing in front of you.

I'm a Hex Girl

and I'm gonna put a spell on you.

You point out towards a random guest.

I'm gonna put a spell on you.

You point to another person and smile as you sing loudly.

I'm a Hex Girl

and I'm gonna put a spell on you.

You look towards Loki who is still watching you while you sing, putting down his wine slowly on the bar. You try not to blush at his intense eye contact, a smirk on his lips. His book vanishes as his attention is solely on you.

Put a spell on you!

You point at Loki and wink with a smile. You can't help but continue to keep your eyes fixed on the handsome prince, as if you are singing just for him now.

You'll feel the fog

as I cloud your mind.

You'll get dizzy

when I make a sign.

You'll wake up in the dead of night,

missing me when I'm out of sight.

His fingers run up and down the stem of his wine glass but his eyes never leave yours.

I'm a Hex Girl

and I'm gonna put a spell on you.

You turn from Loki and continue to dance to the other side of the stage.

I'm gonna put a spell on you.

I'm a Hex Girl

and I'm gonna put a spell on you.

Oh yeah!

You turn again towards the bar and he takes a sip of his wine but his eyes find yours immediately. You sing directly to Loki once again.

With this little cobweb potion,

you'll fall into dark devotion.

If you ever lose affection,

I can change your whole direction.

You break eye contact with the God of Mischief and dance back to the center of the stage. You wave towards the crowd and hold your mic out to them. They all join in, singing the finally chorus except for Loki who watches you intently with a smirk on his lips.

I'm a Hex Girl

and I'm gonna put a spell on you.

I'm gonna put a spell on you.

I'm a Hex Girl

and I'm gonna put a spell on you.

We're gonna put a spell on all of you!

The song ends and everyone cheers wildly. Loki claps from his seat, looking as regal as the prince he truly is. He takes a sip of his wine, still watching you as you begin the next song.

After your seventh song, you announce that your band will be taking a brief break. You turn on the DJ program and hop off the stage, almost immediately walking into Loki's chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Laufeyson," you look up at him, feeling a wave of nervous excitement.

"Loki, please," he smiles charmingly. "And what is your name, little witch?"

"Y/N," you tell him, a giggle escapes you when he takes your hand and kisses the back of it lightly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," he says, not releasing your hand, his thumb runs across your knuckles. "Would you care for a drink?"

You look back towards the stage but your friends have all vanished into the party for your fifteen minute break. You smile back at him, "I'd love a drink."

"Lovely," he says and you blush when his eyes travel up and down your body quickly. He places your hand on his forearm and leads you through the crowd to the bar. Loki pulls out a stool and holds the low back of it still as you take a seat then he sits next to you. The bartender asks you what you would like and Loki orders himself another glass of wine.

"So, are you enjoying the party?" you ask, taking a sip of your drink as you try to hide how excited you are to be this close to him. You had been watching him nearly as closely as he had been watching you, hopeful your paths would cross before the night was over. Your knee brushes against his when you move to face him but neither of you shift away from the contact.

"I am now," he smirks as he leans closer to you so you can hear him better over the loud party. He ignores his drink, his blue eyes focused on yours and you place your drink on the bar near his. "But I believe that may only be because a beautiful witch has cast a spell on me," his fingers gently cover your hand which is resting on your knee.

You blush and bite your lip, "I didn't think a human could bewitch the God of Mischief."

He strokes your cheek slowly with his other hand, "But you are no mere mortal, surely you must be a goddess."

You giggle at the thought of Loki referring to you as a goddess but before you can respond you feel someone's hand on your shoulder. You turn to see who is interrupting your conversation, unable to hide your annoyed expression.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Y/N," your drummer, Rosalie, smiles apologetically, "but Mr. Stark wants us back on stage since they are bobbing for apples now. I didn't know people actually did that."

"Okay, thanks," you tell her and she walks away, presumably to find your other band mates. You look back at Loki who's smile has faded, he removes his hand from yours and sits back. "I'm sorry, I wish I had a bit longer," you tell him honestly.

He nods, forcing a smile, "As do I."

"I really hope you enjoy the rest of the party," you say then you get up and walk back towards the stage. You worry he will leave the moment you are away from him and if he does, you doubt you will ever see him again.

Suddenly, you get an idea and walk quickly back to the bar. "Excuse me," you get the bartenders attention and ask him for a favor.

Loki watches you curiously but his smile returns when you walk towards him again. You fold the napkin in half and place it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. Reaching up, you kiss his cheek softly so as not to leave a lipstick mark and say, "That's just in case you decide not to stay until the party is over but I hope you don't leave quite yet."

Loki unfolds the napkin as soon as you are back on stage and chuckles when he sees your phone number and a black lipstick kiss. He folds it again and tucks it back into his pocket for safe keeping. The decision is easy, it only takes seconds for him to know this will be the first of Stark's parties where he remains until the end.

You watch Loki get up from the bar and your heart sinks as you fear he is leaving. You continue to sing as your eyes follow the prince but you smile when you realize he is on the hunt for food. Hopefully that means he has decided to stay, you think.

Loki leans against a wall, away from the other guests, holding a plate of food as he watches you perform. Two songs later, he has gotten rid of his plate but he remains in the far off corner, smiling to himself as he listens to you. His arms are folded across his chest and he nods his head slightly with the music although you doubt the Asgardian has ever heard any of these songs before.

You start the next song and turn to share the mic with your base player for the opening lyrics. When you turn back around, your heart jumps into your throat and you nearly miss the next line. A woman in a tight and very revealing blue dress is standing with Loki, her hand resting on his arm. He bends a bit while she whispers something in his ear.

You try to push down the wave of jealousy that suddenly fills your body and force yourself to keep singing. He isn't yours of course, you remind yourself. You have barely spoken but you would feel devastated if you had to watch the handsome prince dance with another woman.

Loki looks down at the woman's hand and you wish desperately you could hear what he is saying to her. A smile spreads across your lips when he pulls his arm free from her grasp. You continue to sing loudly, his eyes find yours again and he smiles in spite of how unhappy the woman next to him appears. She takes a step towards Loki again but he folds his arms over his chest and leans on the wall as he had before she approached him. His eyes remain focused on you and he ignores her final attempt to get him to dance.

The only woman the God of Mischief is interested in tonight, is you, his little witch.

The main lights come on just after midnight and the party finally comes to an end. The guests wander out of the large room but you hope one particular god doesn't leave. You and your band mates begin the long process of disassembling and packing all of your equipment.

"Excuse me ladies. Would it be possible for me to borrow Y/N for a few moments?" Loki says from behind you.

Ember, your bassist, looks around at all of the equipment and in a mocking tone says, "We need to put all of this away first, your highness." She bows dramatically and you roll your eyes although you are less than surprised by her attitude.

You laugh and blush horribly when you realize your friends have noticed Loki's attention has been on you since he arrived at the party. You hop off the stage and turn to look at them, "I'll be back in five."

"Shut up," Rosalie throws a drumstick at her with absolute precision. "He's been eye fucking her all night. Give the woman ten minutes."

"Take your time," Maya, your guitarist yells over her shoulder. "You're useless at winding these cords the right way anyways."

Loki takes your hand and leads you into the now empty hallway. You are unsure where he is taking you and before you can ask he stops suddenly and turns towards you. He releases your hand, gripping your hip instead and backs you against the wall. You giggle nervously when he takes a step forward, his body pressed flush against yours.

"You were extraordinary tonight, my little witch," Loki smiles down at you.

"Thanks," you bite your lip when his eyes drop to your lips briefly. "I wasn't sure you would like the songs. I imagine this isn't the kind of music a prince of Asgard would typically listen to."

He shakes his head, "It is not but you are an exquisite singer."

A blush creeps up your cheeks and you are unsure if it is his complements or how close he is to you. He strokes your cheek slowly and your hands move to his lower back. His fingers run down your cheek and hook under your chin, tilting your head so your eyes are locked on his. He leans down slowly, his lips only inches from yours and he smirks, waiting for you to move next.

You bring one of your hands to the back of his neck, gripping the fabric of his jacket with your other hand. Pulling him towards you, you reach up and kiss him slowly at first but quickly Loki deepens the kiss. His grip on your hip tightens and your fingers move from the back of his neck into his long, black curls. He lips travel to your neck and you moan his name softly when he bites your skin gently.

"Hmm," Loki hums against your neck then he lifts his head to look at you. "You have the most enchanting voice, my little witch, and I plan on finding out what other sounds you can make tonight." He winks at you and you giggle, "But I will need much longer than ten minutes."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[lokisgoodgirl]

Believe Me [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Home from a mission in the dead of night, Loki requires absolution (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Avenger!Loki. Established relationship. Mild sub!loki, non-toxic jealously, 'authorised' mild infidelity (missions, innit).

You had dozed, slipping between the fleeting embrace of slumber. Snatches came and went, the cool of your pillow turning hot before you turned it again.

Fat feathers crisped as you lowered your head. The finest Asgardian goose. Loki insisted. With each wave of consciousness, you tried not to think of your lover destructively flirting his way through a honeytrap mission tonight. The poor mark didn’t stand a chance. You checked the clock. 03.23.

But something feels different.

Sitting up, you squinted beyond the darkness.

On the far side of the room, a wing-back chair rose in the gloom. The draped silk of your discarded robe still hung over the armrest, but it shimmered. It was moving. Black became grey as your eyes adjusted, seeing pale fingers weaving silk between them.

You saw him now.

Legs crossed, back straight and chin dipped as he watched you sleep while he bathed in shadow. Curls sat effortlessly back from his face, slices of cheekbone protruding from blackest night.

The shade of his suit was at one with the leather behind, but Loki’s bright eyes smouldered; embers of starlight and dying galaxies deep in the darkness. “I didn’t wish to wake you, love” he murmured, pulling the silk hem through his fingers a final time before letting it fall.

One long leg unfurled over the other, the click of his heel meeting the floor making you clench beneath the bed-covers. You were wet already. So wet. Like your body could sense his presence, if not yet your mind. She always could.

Like a dream, you cast the duvet back and rose; bare feet padding across the boards towards him. Cool air sent gooseflesh rippling up your thighs, your arms; the curves of your body protected only by a flimsy camisole. Only a few more steps. The leather of the chair squeaked as his thighs spread against the sides. “Loki,” you breathed, cupping his face.

No sooner had the name left your lips than a row of candles flickered to life, illuminating him from behind. They floated in the air, rivulets of wax already spilling soft rolls down the sides. “Hel-lo,” he purred teasingly. One eyebrow cocked. And the threat of a smirk pressing against his cheeks.

For the first time, you noticed his unusual attire. A three piece suit, with its crowning glory the drip of starched ruffles cascading down his chest to the high waist of his trousers. He shifted in the chair, the pad of a fingertip brushing a close-lipped smile.

“Steve really went Ken-doll on you tonight, huh?” you teased, mirth ebbing to renewed desire as he drew the fingers to the bow-tie fastened at his neck.

He shrugged, tugging it slowly, letting the silk unfurl. It hung perfectly around his collar. You wondered if he would tie you up with it. You hoped he would.

In a flash, two large hands cupped your ass, pulling you down to his lap. With a gasp you managed to straddle him, slotting your knees on either side of his thick trunk. You kissed him deeply, savouring the softness of his tongue as it welled and licked and loved you. The ceremony was about to begin. His fingers spread against your cheeks, pulling and massaging as he groaned into your throat.

He tasted like jealousy. Traces of expensive perfume lingering on his skin and the faint hang of some rich whisky doing its best to conceal it. A thrill flooded through you, imagining the mark's desire roaring through her blood as she felt his muscle ripple beneath her touch. But Loki would never betray you, not beyond the emotionless tactics his position required.

Your thumb skated up his cheek, catching a patch of forgotten lipstick near his ear. Forgotten? No. You knew better than that. Whenever Loki came home from ensnaring a target with his wiles, he never missed the chance to make sure you knew who he belonged to. It was a mission. It was nothing. But ceremony must be upheld. His lips waxed and waned deeper, firing passion setting you alight. Every swallow was harsher and deeper than the last. Like he might lose you in the darkness. Loki grunted wetly as you scooted closer on his lap, chest flush to your colossus of a lover while his fingers wound in your hair. Your digits slid down his chest, feeling the ropes of muscle bound beneath starched folds. You broke apart just long enough to whisper the question he was waiting for. "You had to kiss this one?" You let the playful mist of a snarl hang on the air. Loki growled in response while you began working down his chin, along the long blade of his jawline. Letting the tip of your tongue run over the angle of his bone structure.

“Yes,” he rasped while you dropped lower, fastening to the slender muscle of his neck. You took a moment to appreciate his Adam’s apple work as he swallowed hard, ragged breaths ripping the air. His head fell back. “Only for a minute,” he panted to the ceiling. “It was perfunctory.”

Honestly from the god of lies, you’d found, was the greatest aphrodisiac of all.

“Where?” you asked, closing your eyes against his skin. “Against the wall,” he choked. His breaths were short. Loki’s fingernails grazed down the exposed skin between your shoulder-blades while you began to gently gyrate in circles. The god’s thick cock snaked down his thigh, ferociously hard against the tight fabric. At the mercy of your movements.

His brow creased as you slid back and forth, wetted lips parting with a needy gasp. “Did she want you?” you goaded, sliding the heel of your palm over one of his cheekbones. It raked through his hair. "Of course," he strummed, thighs beginning to tremble beneath your hips. Loki's hands ran in worship up the curve of your waist. "And did you want her?" you asked coyly. Loki pouted before a gentle tug of the camisole made your breasts spilled into his waiting hands. “Never,” he breathed; eyes flashing dangerously as he lifted them to meet yours. “Never.” You slid a hand down his torso, through the mass of white foliage ruffles which lapped against your palm in flickering candlelight. They were hard, and yet soft. Just like him. And stiff. That too, was a common attribute.

Slowly, you reached the button of his trousers. Loki thrust into the touch, biting his lip with a flinch. His brows knitted together.

One button popped beneath your fingers. Then two.

He leant forward, pushing your cleavage together and burying his face deep. The god’s nose slotted perfectly between the mounds of flesh he sought, drowning himself in the scent of you. The feel of you. His muffled moans of anticipation made you squirm on his lap, rubbing your bare pussy against his sprung manhood.

Pants and wet grunts of desire filled the air before Loki surfaced, kissing manically up the path to your lips. He consumed you again, his palm skating up the nape of your neck in a violent embrace. Waves of stiff ruffles grazed your nipples, sending electric shocks of pleasure to your dripping core. Had you ever needed him more than this? You were certain you had. But you couldn’t remember when.

Loki’s hands massaged your ass, pulling you deeper against his face. His shirt ruffles scratched your inner thighs, the tender caress making you mewl his name to the ceiling.

“Say you believe me,” he gasped in desperation.

It was a dark prayer. And a desperate one, at that. A ring of saliva was smeared across his lower face. The words chanted on repeat as your searching fingers lined him up between your slick thighs.

“Say you believe me,” he pleaded, slurring. His throat clung to the final syllable, rasping it through a torturous exhale.

The tip of his cock jarred against your slit, a sticky mess of pre-cum and arousal webbing with each slow buck. He was trembling with the effort of resistance.

He would not. Not until the ceremony of his forgiveness was complete.

You looked down at him, head resting against the back of the chair. Carefully coiffured hair now hung around his cheekbones, jutting at mussed angles. Half-lidded eyes observed you with reverence, submission. A pilgrim awaiting absolution. You smiled. Leaning in, you traced the taut vein popping in his neck. Felt every bob and tighten as he swallowed on your ascent. The little mewls from his pretty lips. And all the while, his hips rocked; cock licking and caressing your glistening sex.

The swirl of your tongue tasted bitter. Remnants of perfume from her wrists as she wound her arms around his neck, perhaps. But it would be gone soon. It always was. They always were. And you? You remained. You always did.

You reached the soft skin beneath his ear, humming a little before sucking his delicate lobe between your lips. “I believe you, baby” you whispered.

It was no more than a breath. The truth needs no more than a breath, you’d found. And with a broken sob of gratitude, Loki felt you sink deep onto his leaking cock.

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[violetwinterwidow01]

How about with Bucky????😏😏😏

[brnesblogposts]

in good arms

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

this idea came to me 20 minutes ago and i had to write it down.

————————————————————-

Bucky walked in the room to see you looking quite sorry for yourself, it tugged on his heartstrings and he decided it was his mission to make you feel better.

“Hey buttercup,” He quipped and received a glare off of you.

“Don’t ever say that again.” You stared right into his soul and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Why do you look so down?” He took a seat next to you on the couch.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s this stupid cast on my arm” Sarcasm dripping from your voice which made Bucky role his eyes.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have jumped off of a two story building” He gave you side eye.

“I was TRYING to do a cool super hero landing!” You argued back only to see him smirk.

“How’d that work out for ya?”

“Shut up” You smacked his shoulder and went back to sulking in your own misery.

“Wanna watch a movie? Take a nap? Watch a movie while taking a nap?” Bucky asked and you nodded.

“Nap sounds good” You smiled.

“C’mere” He patted his lap where you lay your head as he played with your hair.

You closed your eyes and soon enough were fast asleep. Bucky smirked and went into his pocket and got out black and gold pens and began to colour your cast. Every once in awhile he’d giggle to himself and then he’d look at you scared you’d wake up. About forty minutes later you started to stir and Bucky stroked your hair as you slowly woke up.

“Morning, doll” He smiled and you returned the gesture.

“Hey” You sat up.

“How’d you sleep?” All innocence in his voice.

“I slept pretty good act-“ You stopped mid sentence when you looked down at your broken arm..

“Bucky” You spoke quietly.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He looked at you as if nothing had happened.

“Bucky did you colour in my cast” You slowly looked up to him again to see the biggest grin on his face. He held out his metal arm

“TWINS!” He beamed, he was so proud of himself and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You idiot oh my god I have to have this on for at least four more weeks.” You were looking at the gold detail, it really did look like his.

“We will walk around together and everyone will be in awe of how cute of a couple we are! Matching arms! Maybe we should get matching outfits to complete the look” He pulled you so you were sitting on his lap.

“Absolutely not, the arm is enough” You used your good hand to scratch the hair at the back of his head and he smiled dopily.

“I’m so glad you’re not mad, this really could’ve gone either way.” He laughed.

“You’re lucky I love you” Smiling at him before leaning in to kiss him sweetly.

“I love you my metal arm girl” To which you giggled and dug your head into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around you.

—————————————————-

hope you liked it, if you did please give it a reblog! i would appreciate it! also let me know if you want me to do a little drabble where the other avengers react to seeing the reader with the cast identical to buckys arm ..

[elizabethsnuts]

So I don't know if you've seen spy kids 3, but basically there's a scene where the mum has to go on a mission with her baby because she has no baby sitter and she just carries her in a baby carrier. The scene is low-key badass. Anyway, I was wondering if you could do something like that for winterwidows daughter. Like they have no one to babysit her and she has to go on the mission with her parents.

P.S. I love your work.

Family Mission

WinterWidow x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Bucky have no babysitter for you so they have no choice but to bring you on a mission to take down a HYDRA base.

A/N: Thank you for all the support on my work! It really means a lot to me that others enjoy reading it. It was my one year posting on tumblr a couple days ago, happy late tumblr birthday to me!

———

The morning sun filtered through the Avengers kitchen, casting a warm glow around the room where Bucky was finishing his coffee. Natasha, who was already dressed in her black tactical suit, was adjusting the baby carrier strapped to her chest, inside the carrier was you, gazing up at your mother with wide, curious eyes, cooing softly.

Bucky approached the two of you, his metal arm glinting in the sunlight. "Are you sure about this, Nat? Bringing Y/N along on a mission?"

Natasha gave him a reassuring smile. "We don't have much choice, do we? We can’t just keep her here by herself. Besides she’ll be looking at me the whole time."

Bucky leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. "Alright, we’ll keep her safe."

———

You all quickly boarded the Quinjet, where Tony was pacing the floor. Steve and Clint were gathered around a large holographic display of their mission target: a HYDRA base nestled in the Siberian wilderness.

Tony glanced up as Bucky and Natasha entered, you looked over to Tony with your little legs swinging in the carrier. "Well, look who's here. And they brought a little guest." His tone was a mix of amusement and surprise.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Y/N? Are you sure about this?"

"We don't have a babysitter," Natasha said with a hint of defiance. "We'll manage."

You were secured in your carrier, staring at the flashing lights and buttons inside the jet, your tiny hands reaching out to grab at the air. Natasha couldn't help but smile at your innocence. Bucky sat beside the two of you, keeping a watchful eye on both his family and the surroundings.

The Quinjet hummed as it sliced through the sky, descending towards the snow-covered landscape of Siberia. As they approached the drop zone, Tony ran through the plan one last time. "Alright, Natasha, Bucky, you're with me. Clint, Steve, Thor, you take the north entrance."

The team split into their assigned groups. Natasha and Bucky, with you securely strapped to Natasha's chest, moved stealthily through the forest. The snow crunched softly under their boots as they approached the base's southern entrance.

You played with the little beanie on your head, giggling quietly as you touched the fuzzy pom-pom. Natasha looked down and smiled at your happy mood, though her face had a hint of worry.

The team were able to hack into the security system, disabling the cameras and unlocking the doors.

"We're in," Steve whispered through the comms.

"Okay, Malyshka," Natasha whispered, adjusting the sound-dampening headphones over your little ears. "Time to be a good girl for Mama and Daddy."

You giggled and waved your tiny hands around as if you were part of the mission. You had no idea what was going on but you liked going on an adventure with your parents.

The three of you slipped into the shadows, Bucky’s eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of movement. Natasha moved silently, her skills honed from years of time in the Red Room. Your presence, surprisingly, didn’t hinder her. Instead, it seemed to sharpen her focus, giving her a greater purpose which was to keep you safe.

Inside the base, the corridors were eerily quiet while dimly lit. The team had done their job well, creating diversions and taking out patrols. Bucky and Natasha moved methodically, their silent communication seamless.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Natasha whispered to you, her lips curving into a smile.

As the central control room became closer into view, you began to babble softly, your eyes wide with curiosity. Natasha glanced down and smiled. "Almost there, Dorogoy," she whispered.

Bucky placed a small charge on the door, and they waited for the soft beep indicating it was ready. With a nod, the door blew open, and they rushed inside.

Alarms blared throughout the base. HYDRA reinforcements were closing in fast. Natasha and Bucky moved swiftly, taking down enemies with a coordinated dance of skill and precision. You in your carrier, just watched Natasha with a smile on your little face, your tiny hands clapping at the flashes of movement, oblivious to the danger.

With the last of the Hydra agents taken down, Natasha and Bucky quickly began gathering data from the computers. Steve’s voice crackled over the comms. "Status?"

"All clear," Natasha replied, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "We’ve got the data."

Navigating through the maze of corridors, they reached the exit quickly and ran back into the snowy forest.

“Mama!” You giggled, your little fingers tangled in her hair as flakes of snow hit your little pink cheeks.

Natasha laughed and kissed your head. “You did your first mission! You did so well!”

———

Back on the Quinjet, as they soared towards home, Natasha leaned back in her seat, exhausted but relieved. You, now sleepy, nestled against your mother's chest, your tiny hand gripping Natasha's suit.

"You did great today, baby," Natasha whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You babbled sleepily and closed your eyes, now feeling all warm in safe in Natasha’s arms. You loved the little adventure you had today.