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tuiccim · 8 months ago

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We're Gonna Burn

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen, Non/DubCon (because sex pollen), enemies to lovers.

Summary: When an exposure to a strange powder makes you feel as if you're burning to death, your only relief is in the person you hate the most.

A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby

We're Gonna Burn Masterlist

“What the hell was that, Barnes?” You practically yell as you push open the front door of the safe house you’d been directed to.

“I don’t know! I’ve never seen anything like it. God, the smell!” He shakes his head.

“It’s burned into my nostrils. All I can smell is that sweet flower smell. You’ve never seen that pink powder?” You throw your things to the floor, looking around the small, remote house.

“No, I’d tell you if I did, damnit! Why do you keep asking?” Bucky growls.

“You’re not the most forthcoming person! Shit, I think you’ve spoken more in the last two minutes than in the three months I’ve known you! Jesus, fuck, I’ve gotta get rid of this smell. I’m so fucking hot,” your voice gets smaller as you speak. You can’t think straight but head towards the bathroom, unzipping your tac suit and pulling it from your arms as you go. You slam the door and lock it. You turn the cold water on full blast and nearly fall over in your haste to get your suit off. The frigid spray helps for a few moments and you revel in it, but soon another type of heat begins to take over. Your clit throbs and when you place your hand between your legs, your wetness coats your fingers. The shower stops bringing relief and instead, the water coursing down your body seems to only make you hornier. You give in to the need that takes hold and circle your clit. It feels amazing and it takes only a couple of minutes for your orgasm to break over you. You bite your lip to hold in the moans, not wanting the asshat on the other side of the door to hear you.

Your body has a moment of relief but then the heat builds again, even quicker this time. You dip your fingers inside of you in a desperate attempt to stop it. The second orgasm you managed to pull did little to help your body and your fingers keep working furiously to bring another in hope of relief. Your moans are spilling from your lips without a care now. You just need to get this to stop. You’re disturbed when the door rattles and a fist bangs loudly.

“Open the door! I need to get in there,” Bucky bellows.

You wanted to scream at him to go away but you could barely form words. You hated the stupid supersoldier from the moment you met him. He questioned your every turn. Whether it was about your skill, experience, or motives. He never lets you get through a single conversation without making you feel like a lesser part of the team.

“Goddamnit, let me in!” He yells more loudly.

Nothing your hand was doing was helping any longer. You couldn’t think straight and, before you can make a move or form a thought, the door splinters open from a kick. A very naked Bucky comes through the door and your eyes widen as you see his cock standing at attention. He steps into the spray of the cold shower and growls. His hand works his cock furiously while his other rests on the tiles. His head falls forward as he lets the cold water fall down his back. You stand behind him, your hand still between your legs.

“Fuck, what’s happening to us?” you whimper as you lean your feverish forehead onto his back. The cool water does nothing to help but where your skin touches his tingles with relief. Abandoning all pride, you press your entire body to his and the fever seems to cool wherever you touch but your clit throbs even harder. Your cunt weeps, begging for attention.You rub yourself against him, your nipples pebbling at the contact with his back.

With a growl, Bucky turns around and you quickly back up to press your back against the wall of the shower. He stares at you, breathing hard.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble in your haze, “I don’t know what’s happening. I’m so hot and-”

You gasp as Bucky bends down, grabs your legs, and drags you up the tiles. You squeal and reach for any handhold as he puts your legs over his shoulders and attacks your clit with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” You scream as one hand lands on the ceiling to help you balance and the other buries in his hair. His tongue swirls over your clit expertly. His hands squeeze your ass as he gorges himself on you. It doesn’t take long for you to buck your hips as you come all over his face. As he sets you down, you squeeze your thighs together but your body simply screams that it wants more. You stare at each other, breathing heavily. “It’s not working. Nothing helps,” you whimper, tears forming. It’s obvious by watching him that this is affecting him almost as much as you. His supersoldier serum must be helping him but he was burning just the same.

Bucky sighs as he steps closer to you. He presses his forehead to yours with his eyes closed and whispers, “I think there’s only one thing that’s going to help.”

You put your arms around his neck, “Just do it!” You wrap a leg around his to encourage him and he lifts you up. He presses your back into the wall as he lines himself up with your entrance. He paused there for a second as if he was fighting himself. “Please, Barnes, please! I need it!” You can’t believe you’re begging the man you hate to fuck you but your body was demanding it and if he didn’t you were sure you would burn to death. If you had been thinking straight, you would probably prefer to burn but, at this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be filled.

“Goddamnit,” he whispers as he presses in. Your body bows with pleasure.

“Yes! Yes!” Your voice reverberates off the tile walls as you shout with relief. He begins to pump and your body trembles with each motion of his cock. He grabs your ass as he pounds into you and you know he’s as lost in the meeting of your bodies as you are. Your cunt flutters around him, pulling him in, begging for him to come inside of you. Your rational mind has gone completely silent and you are filled with only carnal lust. Every motion of his hips takes you higher and it’s all you want. “Don’t stop,” you grip his shoulders harder.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunts. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to and, truth was, this was the best thing he’d felt in a long time.

“Oh, God, oh, God, I’m- yes!” You release a long, high-pitched moan as you come. Your pussy grips his cock as his hips stutter. He comes with a long moan that makes you clench around him more firmly. You stay there for a few moments, catching your breath, and blessedly your body finally starts to cool. You release your legs from around his waist and he gently sets you down. You can’t look at him and instead maneuver yourself back under the cold spray. You rinse off quickly and step out of the shower. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you exit the bathroom to find your pack and some clothes. While you rifle through your pack, you feel your temperature creeping up again and then you double over from the intense wave that rolls over you. “No, no, not again,” you whisper to yourself. You look over to the broken bathroom door where Bucky still is and consider your options. Sex had given you the relief you needed but it was short lived. Your mind runs amuck with questions. What the hell was that powder? What was it doing to you? How long would this last? How many times would it take to stop this heat from trying to burn you alive? Was sex really the only relief you would find? Another pang hit and knocked the breath from your body. You were gasping in pain when an arm picked you up around your middle.

He was still wet from the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry off. The pains had hit him and he went to the only place he knew he could find relief. He carried you to the small bed in the house and set you down on your hands and knees. He grips your hips tightly and pauses for a moment as another rush of heat spreads over him, “I need-”

“Just do it,” your words come out in a rush, pressing back into him.

He enters you without preamble. Pulling you back to meet each motion of his hips, his moans give evidence of the pleasure and relief that the connection brings. You reach under you to play with your clit, trying to bring your orgasm on more quickly. Each of Bucky’s swift thrusts has you crying out with pleasure and he moves your hand away to bring you to orgasm himself. He wanted to feel you clench around him as you had before.

“Oh, fuck, just like that,” you whine, “Just like that, don’t- don’t stop, oh, fuck.”

Bucky moans as he feels your cunt flutter around his cock with your orgasm. The sounds you release are a hit straight to his cock and he comes hard, thrusting with each spurt into you. Breathing heavily, you both collapse on the bed. You lay on your side facing away from him while taking stock of your body. The relief you felt with your orgasm was short lived as heat began to build again after only a few minutes.

You feel like crying as your body radiates waves of heat. You turn over to face Bucky. He is lying on his back, his metal arm slung over his eyes, and his right hand fisting his hard cock. You make your decision quickly. Pulling his hand away, you straddle him and guide his cock inside of you. You move your hips slowly, hoping that perhaps if you stretched out the sex, it would keep the pain at bay longer. His hands grip your thighs as you rock slowly, his head is thrown back with eyes tightly closed. You looked at him for a moment and still couldn't believe that of all the teammates this could happen with, it had to be this asshole. When you first met him, you thought he was hot as fuck but as his personality (or lack there of) reared it’s ugly head you found him less and less attractive. Your anger at the situation grew as you rode him and you found yourself leaning forward, chasing your orgasm to just get this over with.

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky bucks up into you, causing you to cry out. He repeats the motion over and over again until your body spasms around him. He comes with a grunt as he watches your face contort with pleasure. You collapse on his chest without looking at him. You wondered if keeping your bodies connected would keep the heat from returning.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks softly.

You sigh weakly as you felt the now familiar warmth beginning to spread, “I was hoping…” You let out a frustrated grunt, “I was hoping if we stayed touching it would be enough. But it’s starting again.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Bucky acknowledges his own heat building. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t know that,” you grouse.

“I think… I think this might be a pheromone or something Hydra created to force procreation. I heard of the experiments but they abandoned it when it didn’t produce the results they wanted.”

“Which was?” You ask as your hips make slow circles. You can feel his cock quickly hardening inside of you.

“Naturally born supersoldiers,” Bucky strains out the words.

“So, we’re gonna have sex until we die or what?”

“Usually wore off in a few hours but until then…” he trails off as he gots lost in the sensations.

“Fuck,” you groan, partially out of frustration, partially from the pleasure his thick cock was producing.

“Basically,” Bucky says and you surprise yourself by laughing at the droll comment. You are even more surprised a second later when Bucky rolls you under him. He buries his face in your neck as he pulls your leg up higher and thrusts. You throw your head back as the pleasure begins to build again.

“Harder,” you whimper.

Bucky complies immediately and you whimper with each stroke. Grabbing onto him, you get lost in the feeling of his cock pounding into you sharply. You were glad that he at least was decent at this. Or was it that whatever the damn contaminant was made everything feel amazing? You were getting close with the steady way he fucked you and words started to pour out of your mouth. You were usually quite vocal in bed but hadn’t wanted to give Bucky the satisfaction. Now, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Oh, god, it’s so good. Don’t stop, right there. It’s so fucking good. Oh, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna- fuck!” You let out a loud moan as you come hard and Bucky’s hips work even faster as he nears his own end. When he comes on a broken cry, your body revels in the feeling of him emptying himself in you.

The rational side of your brain sounded far away but was still screaming at the situation. In a moment of it managing to take hold, you push Bucky off of you and roll away from him. Breathing heavily, you pray that this is over. Surely, this was enough to satisfy anything. You will yourself to stay cool, to not allow the heat to return, to hold onto any shred of sanity you can find, but despite it all, the heat built again. You felt like screaming but you knew that nothing you did would help. You turn back to Bucky and say frustratedly, “Ready for another round?” You can’t meet his eyes but you knew neither of you could handle the pain and heat. You needed each other.

Bucky turns to you, “Hey.” He waits, wanting you to look him in the eyes but you just stare at his chest. “Hey.”

“What?” You say waspishly, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“Never mind,” he says as he grabs you and pulls your back against his chest. His cock nudges you from behind and you maneuver your hips to allow him entry. His thrusts are quick and sharp but his fingers on your clit are pure magic. He’s learned your body quickly but instead of leading you straight to orgasm this time, he works you to the precipice and then backs off repeatedly. You understood what he was trying to do. He was trying to prolong the sex in hopes of not having to come inside you any more than he already had but it was as if your body only got angrier with each denial.

“It’s not working! Just let me come!” You finally cry out, your frustration having reached its breaking point.

“Say it,” Bucky growls.

You wrack your muddled brain trying to grasp what he wants and latch on to the only word you can find, “Please!”

“No, say my name.”

You would normally reel angrily at a command from him but the effects this powder had on you makes you compliant from need. You stutter as your tongue tries to cooperate, “B- Barnes.”

“No,” he says darkly, “Say it.”

“Bucky,” you grind the word out through your teeth. You had never once called him that. It had always been some variant of his last name. You felt even more vulnerable now.

Bucky doesn’t utter a word but he moves his hips faster and his fingers do their job. When you finally come, your whole body spasms and you scream. The sound was foreign to your ears but the orgasm just kept going. You fluttered around Bucky’s cock, milking him of cum. You stay in that position for the next two rounds of sex. Then you got on top again to give Bucky a break but this time you faced away from him. You couldn’t look at him. When you had rode him to two orgasms and yourself to utter exhaustion, he turned you on your stomach to fuck you again. You lost count of the number of times you had sex. More orgasms than you’d ever had in your life were accomplished and you didn’t have any clue how many times he came. You fucked until you both passed out.

Waking up fourteen hours later, you felt as if you had the worst hangover you’d ever experienced. You glance at the spot Bucky had been in but he was gone. On the table by the bed was a couple of bottles of water, a protein bar, and a bottle of pain reliever. You raised your eyebrow at the items but just shrugged as you tore into all of them. You notice your pack is by the bed and you get up to put clothes on. The first thing you notice is the soreness between your legs but really your whole body hurts. You listen for a moment but don’t hear anything in the house. Peeking out the door, you see the empty living room and slip into the bathroom. You shower quickly, trying not to remember what happened in the small space just yesterday.

You jump when a knock sounds while you are dressing. You call out, “Yes?”

“Exfil will be here in five minutes,” Bucky says through the broken door.

“I’ll be right out,” you say. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t imagine facing him after everything. Would he act like nothing happened or gloat like the asshole he is? You wonder if you will ever be able to look him in the face again. You look at yourself, surprised that you still look the same as you did yesterday because you know you’ll never be the same again. But you didn’t have time to dwell on that. Now, you had a jet to catch.

Part 2

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

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orithyia-eriphyle · 22 days ago

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summer breeze - b. barnes x reader

Summary: The one where Bucky is still adjusting to his newfound freedom, and you are his light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: Swearing, non-sexual nudity, injuries, and blood.

Reader has sun/solar-based abilities.

6.1k words

Bucky Barnes was a man of few words. He said only what was necessary and hardly spoke unless spoken to. Steve seemed to be the only person who could ever get Bucky to talk freely. Sam was a close second, although he teased Bucky more than once until the soldier was grumbling expletives under his breath with a clenched fist.

However, Bucky was a creature of habit.

He woke at dawn every day to go on a run with Sam and Steve, not before drinking a hot cup of black coffee. After his jog, he would train in the gym for two hours and then leave for a shower. He would then make himself a simple lunch and catch up on work. Lastly, Bucky ended his night by reading a book of his choice to help ease his mind.

When Bucky began to deviate from said routine about two months ago, it did not go unnoticed.

It started not too long after Bucky had moved into the tower. Bucky had been placed on the same floor as you, his bedroom right across the hall from yours.

You would wake as he was coming back from the gym, usually catching him on the way back to his ensuite bathroom for a shower. You would greet him with the same sugary sweet smile and voice that almost tempted the super soldier to crack from his usual brooding and smile back.

But he never did. At least, not until recently.

You knew that Bucky had nightmares. You could hear him at night. The screams of pain, terror, guilt. You name it.

Every time his nightmares woke you up, the only thing you wanted to do was help. However, Steve and Tony advised against it. They reminded you that Bucky was still unstable, and it was best to let him ride out his nightmares alone, no matter how terrible they may sound.

You hated it.

Some nights, you would stay up staring at the dark ceiling in your room, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks at the sound of his yells. It would never last longer than a few minutes. But those few minutes were enough for you to feel your heart break for him.

After roughly a month of only seeing Bucky in passing, he surprised you.

You and Natasha had been on a week-long mission across seas and were scheduled to return home that night. You had practically stumbled off the Quinjet, your bones and muscles aching with exhaustion. You walked past the medbay despite Natasha’s protest to at least get checked on. Instead, opt for a hot shower and your warm bed.

What you didn’t expect was to find Bucky sitting at your shared kitchen counter, a hot plate of spaghetti set on the bar across from him.

As soon as the elevator doors dinged open, his gaze shot to you. You tried to ignore the way it roamed over your body, as if assessing for any injury, as you approached the kitchen.

Seeing Bucky in the kitchen wasn’t an unusual sight for you. However, it was well past midnight, meaning it was well past Bucky’s unspoken bedtime.

“What’s this?” You ask quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence that enveloped the two of you.

Bucky glanced at the food, then back to you. His face never changing. “It’s for you.” He spoke, his voice coming out gruff as if it hadn’t been used in a while. Which it probably hadn’t.

You quirked a brow at him but took a seat in front of the plate. This was an unusual display from him, and the last thing you wanted to do was embarrass or scare him off.

You swirled the noodles around your fork and took a bite, savoring the taste as it melted against your tongue.

“You don’t eat after missions.”

Your eyes shot to Bucky at the sound of his voice. However, he was looking at the counter and not at you.

“It doesn’t really cross my mind.” You reply, returning to your meal.

“You need to eat.” He responded firmly. The clipped way in which he spoke made you not want to argue.

“I might be more inclined to eat after a mission if I came home to home-cooked meals every time.” You attempted to joke with him. He didn’t even smirk.

He pointed at your plate, “Eat.” He said before stalking off back towards his room.

Your gaze followed his broad shoulders. “Thank you!” You remembered to shout down the hall, not missing the way his footsteps halted for hardly a millisecond. You smiled down at your food, glad to see that he cared in his own, quiet way.

The next mission you came back from, there was a hot plate of food already waiting for you on the counter.

You shoot awake in your bed at the sound of a scream followed by loud bangs. You knew who it was. Bucky’s nightmares were bad, but he had yet to get violent.

You sat in your bed and stared at your bedroom door as if willing yourself to see through the walls separating the two of you.

Every instinct in your body screamed to help him. Help him not suffer anymore. But the voices of Steve and Tony rang in your head, warning you against it. You contemplated as the violent noises didn’t let up, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth.

Fuck it. You’re an Avenger. If he tries to kill you, then you’ll figure it out.

You slipped out of bed, the cool air hitting your bare legs. You snapped your fingers, a small glowing ball forming above your hand and lighting up the surrounding area. You pushed your bedroom door open and crept across the hall to Bucky’s room. You paused in front of his door, taking a deep breath as your heart thrummed unsteadily in your chest.

You pushed the handle down slowly, pushing the door open and extending your makeshift light into the room to see. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, but then you saw him, and the sight in front of you just about broke you.

His usually large form was made small against the corner of his room. His knees were folded to his chest and his head tucked down. You could see his body tremble violently from where you stood in the doorway.

“Bucky.” You called out, gentle yet firm.

He didn’t seem to hear you, his head still tucked and his body shaking.

You took another deep breath, scolding yourself for being stupid before stepping further into the room and towards the soldier. As you got closer, you could make out the sound of his stuttered breathing and the occasional hitch. Your frown deepened.

“Bucky? Bucky, it’s me. (Y/n).” You spoke again, slowly kneeling in front of the man.

Still no response.

You breathed out a long breath through your nose before closing your eyes briefly.

You reached a hand out to him, slow and careful. As gently as you could manage, you placed a hand on his shoulder.

Before you could even react, your body was slammed to the floor, and an arm was pressed across your chest, holding you down.

Bucky stared down at you with wild eyes. His forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat, and his breathing was labored. His arm on your chest was firm, but you could feel the way that it shook against you.

“Bucky! Hey! It’s me!” Your voice rose slightly despite you trying to stay calm.

Bucky’s hold on you didn’t let up. All he did was continue to stare at you with that blank stare, as if he weren’t all there.

Your chest heaved as you tried to think, looking around the room. Suddenly, it hit you.

You evened out your breathing and reached a steady hand out to him. His eyes darted between you and your hand, but he didn’t stop you.

You gently placed your hand against his stubble-covered cheek. You spoke to him softly. Like a mother calming down her frightened child.

“It’s okay, Buck. I’m right here. You’re safe.” You paused as you felt the pressure on your chest let up a bit. You continued, “They can’t make you do anything here, Bucky. I’m here. (Y/n) is right here with you. I won’t let them hurt you again.” You whispered, softly running your thumb over the curve of his jaw.

You watched as the light slowly returned to his blue eyes, and his breathing began to slow again.

“(Y-Y/n)?” Bucky croaked out, his voice rough from yelling.

You smiled at him. “Yeah, Buck. It’s me.” Your hand never left his face.

Buckt seemed to finally realize the situation you were in, and he retracted his arm like he had been burned. He scrambled backwards until his back hit the side of his bed.

“Y-You need to leave. I don’t want to hurt you.” He stuttered out, his eyes not meeting your own. You smiled at him gently and scooted towards him.

“But you didn’t, Buck. You didn’t even come close.” You stated, placing a firm hand against his vibranium arm.

“But-”

“No buts. I’m okay. You’re okay.” You interjected, not wanting him to linger on the prospect of accidentally hurting you any longer.

There was a brief pause between you two as Bucky’s breath finally evened out fully. “Why are you in here?” He questioned gruffly.

You tilted your head at him as if he should know the answer to that already. “I was worried and wanted to help.” You responded, never raising your voice over a whisper.

Bucky let out a self-deprecating scoff. “I can deal with the nightmares on my own.” He said, once again avoiding your gaze.

You grabbe his jaw once again, ignoring the way he stiffened for a second and tilted his eyes up to meet yours.

“You don’t have to deal with them on your own.” You reassured him, your gaze unwavering. Bucky swallowed as he stared at you. You realized he might be uncomfortable being so close to someone he hardly knew, so you scooted away and dropped your hand from his face.

Bucky tried to ignore the twinge of disappointment he felt.

Since that night, you and Bucky had gotten noticeably closer.

He lingered around the compound more and followed you around like a lost puppy. He would do small things for you. things he wouldn’t do for anyone else.

He would grab things for you off the top shelf that you couldn’t quite reach. He waited for you outside the gym so he could walk you back to your shared floor. He would make an extra pot of coffee in the morning for when you woke up.

The others began to notice.

One day, Sam and Steve were visiting Bucky on your guys’ floor. You were out with Wanda and Natasha and would be returning anytime now.

Bucky stood at the oven, the sound of food sizzling on a pan bouncing around the kitchen.

“I didn’t take you for a chicken tender guy, Barnes,” Sam stated as he sat at the kitchen bar with Steve. Bucky didn’t even glance over his shoulder before responding.

“(Y/n) likes them.” He said in his usual gruff tone.

Sam looked at Steve, who just shrugged. Sam continued with his teasing.

“So you’re making lunch for (Y/n), who isn’t even home yet, and won’t make any for us?” Sam said with a quirked brow.

This time, Bucky threw a quick look at the two men over his shoulder before turning back to the stove. “(Y/n) likes my cooking.” He stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Right on cue, the elevator doors opened, and you walked through. “Hey, boys.” You greeted casually as you beelined straight for Bucky. They didn’t miss the small quirk on his lips as he watched you approach him.

“Hey, Buck.” You greeted him separately, placing a gentle hand on the middle of his back, right between his shoulder blades. You looked down at the pan of chicken. “You makin’ yourself some lunch?” You questioned quietly. Bucky shook his head lightly.

“It’s for you…if you want it.” He said in an almost timid manner, afraid you would reject his cooking despite never having done so before.

Your smile was blinding as you looked back up at him. “I could never say no to your cooking, Bucky. Thank you.” You said, a sincere grin stretched across your face.

Sam and Steve watched the almost domestic interaction before excusing themselves and heading to the elevator.

“Man, did you see that?!” Sam questioned with an incredulous wave of his arms as soon as the doors of the elevator shut.

“I haven’t seen him act that comfortable around anybody but me,” Steve replied, brows furrowed. “I figured they would warm up to each other eventually due to the proximity, but I never expected it to happen this quick,” Steve stated. His mind was running a mile a minute to figure out what you possibly could’ve done to make Bucky act so… peaceful.

Sam shook his head as the doors opened to another floor, and they stepped out. “As curious as I am, I’ll take this as a win. It’s good he’s opening up to someone.” The man said to Steve, who gave him a firm nod.

“Let’s hope it progresses from here, then.”

“You are going to pace a hole into my floors, Tinman,” Tony said sarcastically as he watched Bucky’s large frame lumber back and forth in front of the large doors of the landing pad of the tower.

His gaze snapped up to Tony. “Her comms are shut off, and she was supposed to be back an hour ago.” He said, his voice hoarse. Tony sighed in understanding. Despite his playful demeanor, he too was worried about you.

“That’s why we sent Rogers and Romanoff out 30 minutes ago. They’ll get her, and everyone will be okay.” Tony said in an attempt to calm the anxious super soldier.

Suddenly, Natasha’s voice crackled to life over the intercom of the room they were in. “We found her. She’s unconscious and bleeding. The rest of the men have been taken care of, and we’re taking her back to the jet.” Natasha spoke with an emotionless tone. The tone she uses when she doesn’t want to break.

Tony was the one to reply, but it was all white noise for Bucky.

Bucky felt like the world was crumbling around him. His small, quiet world he had just barely managed to build.

In the year that Bucky had been living with the Avengers, living with you, he had grown an undeniable fondness towards you. He knew it, and so did everyone else. You were his sun, and not just because of your abilities. You reached out to him when he felt like he was drowning. Every moment spent with you felt like breathing.

Each night that you came into his room and calmed him down from whatever terrors that lingered in his mind meant so much to him. Each time, you invited him to watch a movie with you. Something so simple, but you didn’t have to. Sometimes, he would wake up to the credits rolling and his head in your lap. Your delicate fingers running through his long hair.

He clung to your natural warmth like it was the only thing he knew. You were the most gentle being he ever met. He was only reminded of your strength when out on the battlefield, watching you tear through the enemy forces like it was second nature.

His breathing grew heavy as every sweet memory the two of you shared crossed his mind. All he could think about was you. Your voice, your laughter, the way your hair fell against your shoulders, the glint you got in your eyes when you teased him, the way you would hum him to sleep after a particularly rough dream.

Bucky decided then and there that he couldn’t live without you. Couldn’t live without the warmth you brought to his cold heart.

“...nes! Barnes!” Bucky’s head shot up at the sound of Tony’s voice. The billionaire was looking down at the trembling man.

“You need to get it together, pal. They’re almost here, and we need your muscles to get her to the medbay.” Bucky’s open mouth closed as he nodded and stood.

“Did something happen to Steve?” He questioned, knowing that Steve was plenty capable of carrying you himself.

Tony held his chin between two fingers. “Bullet wound in the abdomen. He’s awake and stable but in no condition to carry anyone.” Tony said as the quinjet came into view and began to descend onto the landing pad. Tony looked to Bucky, “She’s top priority.” Bucky nodded. He didn’t need to be told that.

As soon as the doors opened, the two men descended upon the quinjet. Natasha stepped out with Steve’s weakening body slumped against her body, supporting his weight. She looked to Bucky, “She’s laid out on the seats. Bleeding’s been stopped.” Bucky gave a curt nod and rushed to your unconscious body that was draped over the quinjet’s seating.

He scooped you into his arms as Tony followed behind, relaying your visible condition to the doctors via the communications device in his ear.

Bucky’s heavy footfalls thudded throughout the hall as he ran to the medbay. He glanced down at your face every so often. “C’mon sweetheart. You gotta wake up.” He mumbled to himself as the medbay doors finally came into view.

The attending doctors rushed out the doors to guide Bucky to the surgical table. He set you down gently and watched as the doctors swooped down on you, scissors cutting open your gear and clothes.

Tony placed a hand on his chest, “C’mon, Barnes. We gotta leave so they can help her.” Tony showed an unusual gentleness, understanding Bucky’s feelings.

Bucky didn’t put up a fight. He knew he’d just get in the way if he stayed. He exited the doors and walked to the room where Steve was being fixed up.

The doors slid open, and he met the gaze of Natasha and Steve. His eyes were cold as he stared at them.

“You said it was just a recon mission. There shouldn’t have been that many people there.” Bucky spoke to Steve, his voice unwavering but gruff.

Steve huffed, his gaze fixed on the linoleum floors. “It was an ambush. More men than she could handle on her own.” He stated. Bucky didn’t reply, his gaze flickering over to Natasha, who was worrying her lip between her teeth.

“What happened to her?” His voice was quieter now, unsure if he wanted the answer.

Natasha responded this time, “She got overwhelmed. They had some new tech. Something that subdued her powers enough for them to get close.” Natasha’s voice faltered as she continued, “Four gunshot wounds to the torso and a lacerated spleen due to a knife.”

Bucky swallowed down the lump in his throat. He had taken more gunshots, more knives to the torso than he could remember. But you were you. You didn’t have some fancy serum running through your veins that healed you faster like he and Steve did.

Bucky almost didn’t want to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue, but he did. “Do you think she’ll be okay?” His voice was quiet and strained.

He took note of the hesitance in both Steve and Natasha’s faces. Finally, Steve replied. “We’re unsure. She was unconscious by the time we got to her, and we don’t know how long she was like that.”

Bucky’s whole demeanor changed. His already stiff shoulders tensed considerably, his jaw locked, and his gaze became steely.

“If she dies–” Bucky choked out, not able to finish his sentence. His vibranium fist clenched so hard the metal groaned under the pressure.

He turned and stormed out of the room.

You were out of surgery soon enough and were wheeled into a recovery room. You were stable, and the doctors said you would be okay. But you were yet to wake up.

Bucky sat next to your bed, his right hand laced with yours. He wanted to feel the unnatural warmth you always had. But now you felt just like everyone else.

It had been two days since your surgery, and Bucky had only left your side to use the bathroom and to eat.

Bucky’s eyes shot to the door as Steve walked in. He took in the sight of his best friend. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes were sunken due to exhaustion.

“Buck.” He said gently, “You need to rest up and shower.”

“I can’t. What if she wakes up?” He asked. His voice was hoarse and broken.

Steve sighed. “I’ll be right here, and you’ll be the first to know.” He reassured him. However, Bucky didn’t move.

“C’mon, Buck. You know she won’t want to see you like that.” He said, stepping closer. “She won’t be able to focus on recovering if she’s too worried about you.”

Bucky’s eyes met Steve’s. He was right, you couldn’t see him this way. He stood from his chair, his eyes never leaving your face as he walked to the door.

“Promise me you’ll tell me as soon as she wakes up.” He said, not looking at Steve.

Still, Steve smiled, “I promise, Buck.”

Bucky was quick in the shower, feeling no need to linger.

Now, he laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had no desire to sleep. He didn’t deserve to. Not when you were suffering on your own. However, the exhaustion from being up for two days straight and worrying about you finally creeps up on him. He tried to fight off the sleep, but his eyelids only grew heavier and heavier until he drifted off.

“... Sergeant Barnes.” The artificial voice rang throughout his room, causing Bucky to shoot up from his bed.

“FRIDAY?” He croaked out. His voice thick with sleep.

“Captain Rogers asked me to inform you that Miss. (L/n) is awake and is requesting to see you.” The robotic voice explained.

Bucky didn’t need to hear anything else as he stumbled from his bed and to the door of his room. His breathing was heavy and rough as he sprinted to your recovery room. Every fiber in his being screamed at him to move faster, get to you quicker. As if you would disappear if he didn’t.

Bucky began closing in on the doors of your recovery room, not bothering to slow down, opting to barrel through the cracked door.

His quick movements came to a halt at the sight of you. You were sat up in your bed, Steve’s hand on your back to keep you stable. There was a doctor in the room with a clipboard, presumably talking to you before being interrupted by Bucky’s dramatic entrance.

Bucky’s breathing was labored as your eyes locked on him, and despite your situation, despite all the pain, you grinned. “Bucky.” His name came out of your mouth in a quiet whisper.

He stalked over to you and felt his hand tremble as he reached for yours. “Hey, doll.” He said quietly, attempting to match your smile with a shaky one.

Steve nodded to the doctor, who got the message and turned to leave. Steve spoke next. “You two catch up for now.” He said, then turned to you, “Let us know if you need anything.” He spoke more gently now.

You smiled up at him. “Thank you, Steve.”

Steve nodded and left the room.

You looked back to Bucky, your fingers slowly gaining back their warmth. “Hi, Bucky.” You said, your grin not leaving your face.

Bucky let out a disbelieving laugh. “How can you be grinning right now?” He asked, his smile gentle and sweet.

You shrugged and ran your thumb over the back of his hand, tracing the scars. “Well, I’m alive, aren’t I? I couldn’t have asked for better.” You spoke to him.

Bucky shook his head. “I would’ve preferred for you not to be sitting here, injured.” He said, his eyes glancing over your every feature. He couldn’t be happier to be talking to you right now.

“Bucky?” Your small voice echoed between the two of you.

His eyes never left your face. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“I want to take a shower.” You stated plainly.

Bucky laughed increduously at your simple request. “Baby—” The pet name slipped out, but he didn’t notice. “You are in no condition to leave this bed right now.” He said.

You pouted. “Bucky, I feel so gross. I can’t live like this.”

He rolled his eyes at your whining but kept smiling. “As soon as you’re cleared, doll, I’ll get you a shower. I promise.” He said gently, as if he were placating a child.

Your smile softened. “Okay, Bucky. Thank you.”

Bucky’s head tilted slightly as he looked at you. “Anything you want, doll, it’s yours.”

It took only two more days for you to be cleared to walk around and move back into your room. You were to report back for daily checkups and were on strong antibiotics.

Bucky stood next to your hospital bed as you shimmied your shirt over your head. He turned away to protect your modesty but stood close in case you needed his help.

“Bucky.”

He turned back around at the call of his name, his gaze raking over your body. It was refreshing to see you in something other than a hospital gown.

“Ready to go?” He asked, extending his vibranium hand out to you. You nodded. You took his hand and stood shakily. His flesh hand was placed gently on the small of your back as he helped you stand. “Let me know if you need me to carry you.” He said firmly, not wanting to risk you getting injured any further.

The two of you walked out of the room. His usual quick strides were slower in shorter to keep pace with you. Slowly but surely, the two of you made it to your room. You sat on your bed to catch your breath, having not been used to walking so far, let alone at all.

Bucky watched as your gaze lingered on your bathroom door. “Shower?” He asked you. You looked to him with a small smile and nodded.

Before you could bother trying to stand, Bucky was walking to your bathroom. You listened to the sound of the shower as Bucky turned it on. He came back to the room and rummaged through your drawers, looking for comfortable clothes. He went back to the bathroom to place your folded clothes on the counter for you. He was quick to walk back out to your side, hoisting you up gently.

“You don’t have to do this, Buck.” You spoke softly.

Bucky didn’t look at you, too focused on watching your footing. “Don’t start with that. I want to.” He replied, leaving no room for argument.

The two of you made it to the bathroom, and he slowly dropped your hand.

“Do you need help?” He asked, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

You glanced over at your shower. It was a walk-in, so it should be manageable. “No, I think I’ll be okay.” You replied and turned to look back at Bucky.

You could still see the worry swirl in his eyes, but you knew he wouldn’t stop worrying until you were completely healed. Eventually, he nodded. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right outside the door.” He said.

You smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Bucky. I will.”

His gaze lingered on you before turning to leave, closing the door with a quiet click behind him.

You turned to the shower and took a deep breath. You took off your clothes slowly, ignoring the searing pain in your torso as you lifted your arms over your head to get your shirt off.

You had finally managed to get your clothes off and stared at yourself in the mirror. You frowned at your wounds that were stitched closed and traced a finger over them. They would scar.

You sighed and walked slowly to the shower. You felt the temperature of the water, smiling to yourself when you realized Bucky had it set to just the right temperature. You stepped in and groaned in pleasure at the feeling of the warm water beating against your skin. Your muscles began to relax as the water cascaded gently against your body.

You decided you couldn’t keep Bucky waiting forever and decided to begin washing yourself. You leaned over for your shampoo but winced and grabbed one of the wounds on your side. It seemed it didn’t agree with the movement. You powered through and grabbed the bottle, opening the lid and squirting the soap into your hand.

You reached up to your head, ignoring the pain that racked up and down your body, and began scrubbing.

Your teeth are gritted painfully together, the white hot pain becoming unbearable. You couldn’t hold your arms up, let alone move them, for long due to your body being littered with deep wounds. You became frustrated, dropping your arms as the soap dripped down your hair and hands. Tears sprung to your eyes, angry with your own helplessness.

You took a deep breath and shut the water off.

Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion at the sound of the water stopping. That was way too quick, especially considering your condition.

“Bucky?” Your small voice echoed from behind the door.

Bucky sprang up and paused right outside the door, hand already on the handle. “Doll? You alright?” He called out, his face etched with worry.

No response.

“Sweetheart, if you don’t answer me, I’m going to come in there.” He could hear the worry in his voice as he spoke.

Once again, no response.

Bucky’s breathing faltered, and he pressed down on the handle, pushing the door open with ease.

His gaze immediately locked on you. Your arms were crossed over your chest, your body trembling. Either in pain or due to the cold on your wet skin. He couldn’t tell. However, he felt his heart clench in his chest at the sight of your wet eyes and your shaky bottom lip.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He breathed out, reaching you in three quick strides as his hands raised to cup your face gently.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asked in a whisper, as if speaking in a normal voice would hurt you further.

Your water eyes looked up at his, and you drew in a shaky breath before speaking. “I-I can’t–” You swallowed before continuing. “I need your help.” You said, “Please?” You choked out, meek and scared.

Bucky felt his heart shatter. In the year he has known you, he has never seen you like this. So small and sad.

Bucky brushed a tear from your cheek as it fell. “Of course, sweetheart.” His hands moved from your cheeks and to your shoulders. He nudged you back into the shower and turned the handle. The water came back to life, still warm. It trickled down your body as you stood there.

Bucky smiled at you softly. “Are you okay with me taking my clothes off, doll?” He asked, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable than you already may be. He watched as you gave him a quick nod, the tears still not leaving your eyes.

Bucky made quick work of his clothes before stepping into the shower right behind you. “Is it okay if I touch you?” He asked calmly. You responded with another nod of your head.

Bucky drew in a breath before reaching for your hair and scrubbing in the rest of the shampoo. He was gentle and careful, treating you like a doll. His doll. He turned you around to rinse your hair in the water but paused when he saw the tears running down your face and your lip still trembling. His frown deepened as he took in your smaller form.

He cupped your face again. “What’s wrong, honey? Where’s it hurt?” He questioned, his gaze dropping slightly to look at your wounds before he locked his eyes back onto yours.

You shook your head at him, and his brows furrowed in response. “You gotta talk to me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what's wrong.” He chided gently, egging you on.

You drew in a shaky breath before speaking. “I was so scared, Bucky.” You looked down at his chest, wanting to avoid his gaze. “I-I thought I was going to die.” You choked out.

Bucky’s shoulders tensed as he realized you were talking about that day. You hadn’t spoken of it since you woke up. No one pressured you, knowing you needed time. Bucky was about to respond, but you cut him off.

“And all I could think about—” You hiccuped, practically choking on your own emotion. “All I could think about was you.” You finally got out.

Bucky froze where he stood, his eyes widening slightly.

“All I could think about was what you would do if I died. Who would comfort you when you had a nightmare—” You were speaking too fast now and tripping over your words. “And then, I sat there. Bleeding out, in pain, and my consciousness beginning to slip.” You paused. “All I thought about was how I was going to die here, cold and alone, never getting to tell you how I felt.”

Bucky’s heart pounded hard in his chest as you rambled on. His grip on your face tightened slightly. “Doll—” He croaked, but you cut him off again.

Your eyes locked with his. The color in them more vibrant with your tears. “I love you, Bucky Barnes. And I have to tell you now, or I’ll regret it forever.” You said resolutely, your voice more steady than it had been since he had entered the shower with you.

Bucky could feel his own hands tremble. Could feel every beat of his pounding heart against his ribcage.

“You l-love me?” Bucky choked out, his own eyes beginning to water.

You nodded, nuzzling your face into his open palm. Your eyes were still wet, and your lips still trembled.

Bucky rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. He took in a steadying breath as he felt your lips brush his. “Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

You responded with an almost imperceptible nod.

Bucky sighed before slotting his lips against yours gently. He poured every ounce of love into that kiss. Every feeling you’ve ever made his cold heart feel. One of his hands dropped to your waist, the other to the side of your neck. He pulled you against him, his lips working over yours slowly. He groaned as one of your hands made their way into his hair, pulling gently.

You pulled away first, gasping for air as you rested your forehead against his chest. Bucky’s hand gently chucked your chin, directing your gaze towards his. His eyes were so soft, so different from the usual look they held.

“I love you too, doll.” He whispered.

You felt your face split into a smile. Your tears were long gone. All you felt in that moment was love and joy.

You tucked your face back into his chest as your body began to heat in giddy embarrassment due to your power. You felt the rumble of Bucky’s laugh against you.

“You can’t be embarrassed now, Sweetheart. I’ve already seen you naked.”

You responded with a smack to his chest and glared up at him. He only continued to smile at you before leaning down and capturing your lips into another kiss. This kiss was softer, slower.

He pulled back and mumbled against your mouth. “Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again.”

divider creds: @aquazero

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writingunderneathawillow · 1 month ago

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tight spaces (bucky barnes x fem!reader)

content warnings: fluff, a pinch of angst, bucky gets anxious because of tight spaces, suggestive, bucky gets a boner hehehe, lowkey manhandling I guess, also accidentally inspired by teen wolf word count: 930

The door of the supply room fell shut, sending you tumbling towards Bucky.

You had meant to keep it open, your foot propped against it while Bucky searched for the gun cleaning supplies. But it had rested heavily on you, leaving you straining and telling Bucky to get a move on.

Supply room was a generous term. It was basically a small closet made out of metal, barely big enough to accommodate one person, definitely not two.

You were pressed against Bucky’s chest after your stumble, feeling his hands at your waist to stabilise you.

“Sorry,” you muttered as you tried to get yourself in a more upright position.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled and let go of your sides. The warmth of his skin, that had seeped through your shirt, was gone so quickly, it felt as if the room’s temperature had dropped.

You went to reach for the door, stemming your weight against it as you pressed down on the door handle, but it didn’t move an inch.

At the same time, you were equally aware of Bucky’s gaze on you and the proximity of his lap and your ass. You tried pushing yourself more at the door, but it didn’t give in and didn’t allow for any more space between the two of you, either.

“Buck? We have a problem,” you said and twisted as much as possible to look at him. “The door won’t open.”

His eyebrows knitted together as his gaze flicked between you and the door.

“Can’t be, you just gotta try again,” he instructed and nodded encouragingly.

You sighed and repeatedly tried to force the door open, but it didn’t budge.

“I think it’s shut,” You replied, teeth gritted as you pushed again.

“Let me,” he said and tried to move past you. It didn’t seem intentional to you but the way he grabbed your shoulders, gently attempting to force himself towards the door by moving you out of the way, made your stomach flutter.

However, he wasn’t successful, stuck between you and the door with no way of positioning himself closer the exit.

He sighed and apologised as he simply reached over you, accidentally pushing you into his chest while his large hands fumbled with the door.

In the dim lighting you could still make it out the way his biceps flexed under his shirt and with the way you were sandwiched between him and the door, you could take in his scent effortlessly, practically drowning you in leather and a hint of citrus.

You tried to hold your breath, embarrassed by how lightheaded you became as his smell encircled you.

With a soft groan Bucky took a tiny step back, as much as the room allowed.

“God, we’re really stuck,” he murmured, and all your giddiness disappeared as you picked up on the trace of anxiety on his words.

Bucky and closed spaces did not go well together, especially ones made out of metal. Being entombed in a cold, tight room was sending shivers down his spine, and he was barely able to conceal them. You heard how his breath quickened and saw his eyes darting in between the walls of the room, searching for a way out.

“It’s okay,” you whispered; your hands rested on his forearms and you began to softly stroke up and downwards. “The others are gonna realise soon that we’re in here, we’re okay.”

His eyes met yours, the blue nearly hidden with his enlarged pupils. He nodded slowly, his gaze fixated on you as you continued your soothing motions.

“We’re okay,” he repeated as he watched you, almost entranced by your voice. After a few seconds his eyes began to wander again but instead of taking in his surroundings, they lingered on you.

The soft curve of your mouth, the gradual slope of your nose and the gentleness of your eyes captivated him, pulling him out of his state of panic.

“You have a scar there,” he mumbled, nodding towards your eyebrow. “I’ve never noticed it before.”

The words had stumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Only when he shifted slightly, he seemed to realise where you were. How you were glued to him, skin on skin with no room between the two of you.

All the blood that had pounded in his ears and head just seconds ago now rushed south.

You became aware of your situation again as well and desperately tried to find a place in the supply room that wasn’t taken up by him.

“Doll, you gotta-,” he groaned softly as he tried to adjust himself and get a little distance between both of you.

“You gotta turn around or something ‘cause, uh-“ he searched for words that wouldn’t make it so awkward but none came.

Your eyebrows scrunched up, confused by this, and tried to twist your body to face towards the door but then you felt it.

Warmth radiated from his lap along with an unmistakable hard sensation, straining against his pants right against you.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry,” you stuttered, trying even harder to increase the proximity between the two of you.

He muttered something unintelligible and then said: “No, don’t be. I’m the one who’s sorry, sweetheart.”

A soft hiss escaped his mouth when you finally had managed to turn around, now facing the door with warmed cheeks.

A few seconds passed, your backside now pressed into him, until he broke the silence.

“Doll?” “Yeah?” “This is worse.”

You chuckled, pressing your hand against your lips and you could hear his faint laughter. --- part 2 now out

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billionairebratenergy · 2 months ago

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Only You, Doll

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: There’s something beautiful about the way Bucky loves you—fierce, unrelenting, like you’re the only thing anchoring him to a world he never belonged to. But when harmless smiles from other men threaten to shatter his fragile control, you learn that even a super soldier’s heart isn’t indestructible after all.

Bucky Barnes is not a jealous man. Or at least, that’s the lie he tells himself.

He’s been a lot of things in his unnaturally long life—a soldier, a weapon, a ghost—but jealousy? That’s a weakness for men who have something to lose.

And for most of his life, Bucky’s had nothing.

Until you.

The first time it happens, he doesn’t even notice at first. You’re at Sam’s backyard barbecue, the sun painting your skin gold, and Bucky’s only half-listening to Steve. His eyes keep drifting to you—how you move through the crowd with that easy grace, how you smile like the world’s still worth it, how every time you laugh, his chest aches like a bruise pressed too hard.

Then he sees it. Some guy—one of Sam’s buddies from god-knows-where—gravitating toward you, beer in hand, smile a little too bright.

Bucky watches the whole thing unfold, jaw clenched so tight his teeth hurt. The guy leans in, closer than necessary, and you tilt your head back to laugh at something he says. Bucky doesn’t even realize he’s crossed the yard until Steve calls after him, confused.

You’re mid-sentence when Bucky’s arm slides around your waist, pulling you effortlessly into his side, his touch possessive in a way that makes your pulse skip. His smile is polite when he says, "Hey, doll. Miss me?" but his grip on your hip is anything but.

The guy’s smile falters. You catch it immediately—and so does Bucky. Bucky doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t have to. The man makes a quick excuse and disappears into the crowd.

Only then does Bucky relax, just a fraction, his hand smoothing over the fabric of your dress like it’s some kind of grounding ritual.

"James," you say softly, eyes glittering. "Was that really necessary?"

He kisses your temple instead of answering, but the warmth of his body against yours says everything his words won’t.

You think it’s a one-time thing. It’s not.

At first, it’s almost subtle—his hand finding yours whenever you’re out, his body positioning itself between you and strangers. But soon it becomes a pattern, a choreography of quiet possessiveness.

A waiter calls you "sweetheart"? Bucky tips him 5% less. A man offers to help you carry something? Bucky’s already got it in his vibranium hand. Even at the grocery store, when some poor guy accidentally brushes against you in the aisle, Bucky’s gaze sharpens to a knife’s edge.

The kicker is, he denies it every single time.

Every.

Single.

Time.

The breaking point comes at Tony’s party—glamorous and over-the-top as always.

You’re on the balcony, enjoying the breeze, when a tall blonde drifts over. He’s harmless, you can tell—probably someone’s brother or date. The conversation is light, harmless, until Bucky steps outside.

The moment Bucky spots you—laughing at something the guy said—something dark flickers behind his eyes. His smile vanishes, shoulders squaring like he’s preparing for battle.

You feel him before you see him, the heat of his presence curling over your skin. His hand settles on your lower back, gentle but unmistakable: mine.

The guy catches the signal loud and clear, mumbling something before practically running inside. You watch him go, then glance up at Bucky. "Really?"

Bucky shrugs, but his jaw is tight, tension coiled through his muscles.

"James," you sigh, turning to face him fully. "Are you gonna tell me what that was about?"

He doesn’t answer immediately. Just stares past you, at the glittering city lights, like they hold a truth he can’t bring himself to say aloud.

"I didn’t like the way he was looking at you." His voice is low, almost embarrassed.

"Buck," you step closer, fingers brushing his, "he was harmless."

"So was the last one," Bucky mutters. "And the one before that. And the one before—"

You press a hand to his chest, right over his heart, feeling the rapid beat beneath your palm. "Do you really think I’d ever—"

"No." His answer comes quick, fierce. "It’s not you I don’t trust, doll. It’s men. Men like me."

Your brow furrows. "What does that mean?"

He exhales sharply, like the confession physically hurts. "I know what they’re thinking when they look at you. Because once upon a time, that was me. Before you, before I knew better."

It hits you all at once.

This isn’t about jealousy. Not really. It’s about fear—the kind born from a lifetime of loss and war, from learning the hard way that good things slip through your fingers like smoke.

"Bucky," you whisper, fingers curling into his shirt. "I’m not going anywhere."

His throat bobs with a hard swallow. "I know." But he says it like he doesn’t believe it. Like the universe has never let him keep anything this good before.

Later, curled up on his couch, you poke at him again—because you love him, and because teasing him feels like stitching soft threads through his battle-scarred edges.

"So," you murmur, tracing patterns on his chest, "jealous?"

Bucky groans into the pillow behind his head. "I’m not jealous."

You grin, propping yourself up on one elbow. "Really? Because if I remember correctly, someone nearly growled at a waiter last week."

His arm slides around your waist, tugging you back down until you’re sprawled across him. "I just know men, doll. That’s all."

"Because you are one?"

"Damn right."

"And you don’t trust yourself?"

Bucky’s smile is small, a little crooked. "Not even a little."

You laugh, burying your face in his neck. "James Buchanan Barnes, you are a menace."

He presses a kiss to your temple, voice a soft rumble. "I’m your menace."

And there it is—the truth he can’t always say aloud. That he’s yours. That you’re his.

And maybe, just maybe, if he holds you tight enough, the universe won’t take you away too.

The next morning, you catch him sneaking one of his shirts into your bag before you leave for work.

"Because," he says when you raise a brow, "if men are gonna look at you, they can at least know you belong to someone."

"Possessive much?"

"Absolutely."

You laugh, looping your arms around his neck. "Good. Because you’re mine too, Barnes."

And for the first time, Bucky doesn’t argue.

─────────────

It starts with his shirt.

The one he snuck into your bag this morning. The one you wore to bed tonight, just to tease him.

You’re curled up under the sheets, the worn Henley draping over your thighs, and Bucky’s standing at the edge of the bed—blue eyes darker than the sky outside, jaw tight, hands flexing at his sides like he’s fighting himself.

You know that look. It’s the one he gets when he’s teetering between lover and soldier, between tender and ruthless.

"Something wrong, Sergeant?" you ask, voice soft and playful, but the way his gaze drags over your body—the outline of your bare legs under his shirt, the curve of your hips shifting under the sheets—makes your pulse trip.

Bucky exhales hard, dragging his vibranium hand over his face. "Doll."

Just your name. Just that voice—low and gravel-rough, thick with something hungry.

You sit up slowly, the sheets pooling around your hips, and his Henley slips off one shoulder. Bucky’s eyes track the movement like a predator stalking prey.

"You’ve been pushing me all day," he mutters, stepping toward the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress like a warning. "Talking back. Calling me jealous."

"Because you are," you smile, all innocent and wicked.

Bucky’s weight is over you in a heartbeat, caging you beneath him. The cool press of metal fingers against your jaw makes you shiver.

"You think it’s funny," he says, voice dark silk, "how crazy you make me."

"Maybe a little," you whisper, eyes sparkling with defiance.

He leans in, his nose brushing yours, lips barely an inch away. "Do you know how hard it is," he murmurs, "to watch men look at you like they could ever deserve you?"

Your breath hitches.

"I don’t trust them," he continues, mouth ghosting down your throat, voice fraying at the edges. "But you? I trust you with every fucked-up, broken piece of me."

Your hands slide into his hair, tugging him down until your lips meet his, and the moment they do, the tether snaps.

Bucky kisses you like a man starved—deep and hungry, all teeth and tongue and desperation. His flesh hand fists in the fabric of his own shirt on your body, tugging it up until your bare skin meets the rough drag of his calloused fingers.

"Mine," he growls against your mouth, and you don’t argue.

Because you are. You always have been.

He strips you of his shirt like it’s offended him, tossing it aside carelessly. His lips map a path down your neck, your chest, his metal hand pinning your hips as his mouth closes around your nipple, sucking just hard enough to make you arch.

"Bucky—"

The sound of his name from your lips makes him groan, the sound vibrating against your skin. He kisses lower, trailing down your stomach, his stubble leaving pink paths in his wake, until his shoulders are wedged between your thighs.

"You want me to stop being jealous, doll?" he asks, voice rough silk against your inner thigh. "Fine."

His tongue slides through your slick folds, slow and deliberate, like he has all the time in the world to ruin you.

"I’ll just remind you," he murmurs between kisses, "why you don’t need anyone else."

Your hands tangle in his hair, thighs trembling against his cheeks, and Bucky loves it—loves the way you come undone for him, no barriers, no pretense. Just you, open and wrecked and his.

He works you like a man who knows your body better than his own—tongue circling, fingers curling inside you, teasing and relentless until you’re begging his name like a prayer.

"You’re so fucking perfect," he rasps, eyes flicking up to watch you fall apart. "Every inch of you—mine."

The moment you break, his name on your lips like a confession, Bucky’s already crawling back up your body, mouth crashing into yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

"Need you," you whisper, nails digging into his back. "Need you inside me."

"Fuck," he groans, forehead pressing against yours. "You’ll kill me one day, doll."

He’s already bare—somehow you didn’t even notice him stripping—and when he slides inside you, it’s slow and deep, a claiming and a promise all at once.

You cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist, and Bucky moves like a man who has nowhere else to be. Just here, in this bed, with the only thing he’s ever truly wanted.

Every thrust pushes your bodies closer—skin to skin, heart to heart. His hands never stop touching you, like he’s memorizing you all over again, metal and flesh branding every inch of you his.

"You feel so good," he breathes, voice unraveling. "Like you were made for me."

You pull him down into a kiss, soft this time, your hands cradling his face. "I was."

That undoes him completely.

Bucky fucks you harder after that, like he’s trying to pour every unspoken word into your skin—you’re mine, you’re safe, I love you, I love you, I love you.

When you come again, it’s with his name on your tongue, and Bucky follows you over the edge, spilling inside you with a guttural moan.

For a long moment, neither of you moves. Just tangled limbs and breathless silence, hearts beating in sync.

Bucky finally collapses beside you, pulling you into his chest, and you trace lazy circles over his sternum.

"So," you murmur sleepily, "jealous?"

He groans, burying his face in your hair. "I’m not jealous."

"You just spent twenty minutes reminding me why no one else could ever have me," you point out, grinning against his skin.

Bucky sighs, but there’s no bite to it. "Okay, fine. Maybe a little."

You press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. "Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah." You nuzzle closer, fingers tracing the edges of his dog tags where they rest against his skin. "Means you’re mine too."

Bucky’s arm tightens around you, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth.

"Doll," he whispers, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, "I’ve been yours since the first smile."

You fall asleep like that, safe in the arms of a man who would burn the world down to keep you.

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cosmicwavelengths · 2 months ago

Text

slip 'n slide

minors, DNI! - 18+ only pairing: bucky barnes x reader summary: one day, you admitted to bucky that no one had ever made you squirt like that... and naturally, he took this as a challenge.

a/n: happy saturday! i was hoping to write something like this at some point. it's a bit of a quick one, but i hope you enjoy!

cw: smut (just... ridiculously smutty), bucky forces reader to squirt, pet names, pwp/pnp :3, love bites/hickeys, explicit language

wc: 1.4k | masterlist | ao3 ────୨ৎ────

“Are you serious?”

You groan out with embarrassment hiding your face in the sheets. “Don’t make me say it again…”

Bucky chuckles lightly, before reaching over and stroking your hair with his flesh hand. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart.”

You shoot up dramatically, turning over to look at him. “Well, it’s not entirely their fault. I figured that I was maybe… faulty? I dunno, it’s just never happened before…” you trail off shyly, flush creeping up your neck. “It’s a ‘me problem.’”

Bucky smiles lazily at you, blue eyes displaying a hint of mischief. He brings his metal hand up, and you shudder lightly when you feel the tips of his fingers begin to trace the outside of your thigh. “Would you let me try?”

You nod at him, eyes blown and lips parted. It took you an embarrassingly short time to get worked up, feeling the fabric of your panties stain with your wetness. You rub your thighs together in an effort to stave off your arousal. “Please?”

It wasn’t long before he had you on your back mewling for him. You writhe under him, desperately trying to angle yourself up to his mouth. “Bucky… please don’t tease me,” you pout. “Your pussy is so perfect, what did I ever do to deserve you, angel?” He murmurs to himself, dragging his thumb through your folds. You keen loudly at this, hardly being able to contain yourself. “Bucky!”

At that, he begins sucking on your clit. You moan out, your hands scrambling to tug his long locks. “Oh God, yes, Bucky!” He groans at how eager you sound, causing vibrations to travel up your core. “Please don’t stop, please!” He kisses your clit gently, before returning to eating you out like a starving man. He fucks you with his tongue, eager to taste your arousal before it comes out. He traces the tender flesh of your clit with his teeth, sending shivers up your spine. You grind uncontrollably against his tongue as it flicks up and down your slit. You couldn’t help but yank his hair roughly so hard that Bucky himself felt lightheaded. Your body shakes, back arching as you moan Bucky’s name out.

Lapping at your folds, he slides his longest fingers in. Your walls flutter and clamp down, desperately chasing your release. “Fuck,” you moan out. “Please make me cum, Bucky! Can I cum, please?” He grunts out a response, still busy tracing swirls into your clit. He reaches up with his metal hand, gathering your wrists in his grip and pinning you down. His fingers hit a sensitive part of your walls, which spells your end. You can only cry his name out before you’re clamping down on him again, pleasure washing over you.

He pulls his fingers out, whistling as he watches his fingers shine with your arousal. “My, won’t you look at that. Shit, you’re so wet for me. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he sighs. “Careful not to have a heart attack, old man,” You giggle. You yelp when he swats the inside of your thigh. “Don’t brat me,” he warns, eyes flashing at you dangerously.

He rises, coming over you to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. He trails his kisses down your neck, lingering in a few spots to leave behind dark red bruises. Groaning, you grind yourself softly into his clothed crotch, his erection causing it to tent harshly. “Bucky, fuck me, please, I need it. I need you.” He moans at your wantonness. “Sure thing, don’t say I don’t do anything for you.”

He leans up, unzipping his pants and pulling out his hardened cock. He strokes himself a few times before lining up with your folds. “Ready for me, angel?” he asks, gazing into your eyes. “Yes,” you whisper into the air. “Please, Bucky, I need you inside.”

He grins, stroking your cheek softly. “You’re such a good girl.”

He presses your knees into the mattress as he works open your pussy with the head of his cock. You sucked in a harsh breath, trying to adjust to his size. Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, unable to resist how tight your pussy feels around his cock. “Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful f’me,” he grunts out. You whine uncontrollably as he sets a rough, short pace. “Please ruin me, Bucky.” He starts to fuck you in earnest, trading out the short strokes for long, deep ones. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, unable to take the pressure. “Fuck,” he hisses, bitting harshly into the side of your shoulder.

You wail out, squeezing him harshly. God, you squeeze him like he had never felt before. Your cunt flutters wildly around his cock, making his head spin. You’re almost there and he can feel it.

“C’mon, I feel it coming. Let me have it, doll,” he beckons you between thrusts. “Let. Me. Have. It.” Your eyes roll into your head again as you fill the room with loud, wet sounds of your arousal. He continues to pound deeply into you, causing the headboard to slam against the wall rhythmically.

“Look me in the eyes while I fuck you. You’re doing such a good job taking my cock. I need to feel you cum, darling.”

“No! Stop, Bucky, I can’t do it! I can’t!” You choke out a sob, squirting and soaking the bed below you and his thighs with your clear liquid. Your orgasm hits you harshly, sputtering as waves of pleasure course through you. You babble mindlessly as he puts all his strength into his final thrusts. Your cunt convulses around his cock, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. Your nails scratch down his back, shoving him over the edge aggressively, filling up your overstimulated pussy with load after load of his cum. You pant together, trying to catch your breaths.

You stay wrapped up for a moment, reveling in the moment. Bucky holds you as your body twitches. You can feel every part of him, how his skin feels sticky with sweat under your thighs. How the scent of his cologne sticks to your nose. You throw your head back, a small smile etched into your face. Brought about by a sudden tiredness, your eyelids grow heavy.

He rolls over next to you, propping himself up on his arm. “So?” he inquires, poking your cheek softly. “How did I do?” You continue to lie there nearly motionless, still in complete bliss. “I think the state of our sheets show how well you did,” you joke, rolling over to poke his cheek back. “I still can’t believe you made me do that.” He chuckles, smiling bashfully. “Anything for my girl.”

Bucky rolls closer to you, pressing kisses over your neck where he had previously left marks. You squirm, giggling as his teeth lightly tickle your neck. He puts his teeth harder into the flesh by your collarbone, sucking in another dark, needy mark. “Careful,” you warn. “Don’t want to start anything you can’t finish.”

He brings his fingers down to your cunt again, teasing. “Who said I won’t be finishing you? Be good for me.” He slowly slides in his middle finger. You sigh into his touch, heat pooling in your lower abdomen. “Bucky?” You caution, unsure of his next move. He circles his thumb lightly over your clit, trying to be gentle due to your overstimulation. “Please, Bucky, right there!” Humming deeply, he feels how he mixes around his cum with your arousal with his fingers.

The precise robotic movements of his fingers push you closer and closer to the edge. A guttural sound pours from his lips as he feels the familiar clench of your pussy around his fingers. You sob, losing yourself in the wonderful pleasure of his fingers. He presses continuously against that soft spot inside you, forcing you to arch into his touch.

“Bucky, Bucky, Oh my God, Bucky, Please?”

One roll of his fingers, a swipe of his thumb over your swollen clit, and you’re cumming on his fingers again, shuddering and shaking in his arms. Your whiny, pathetic moans echo in the room, only to be matched by the sound of your sopping wet cunt. He helps you through the aftershocks of your orgasm before sliding his fingers out again.

Staring into your eyes, he takes his arousal-soaked fingers and puts them in his mouth. “That’s my girl.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes / reader #bucky barnes / you #bucky barnes #mcu #mcu fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader smut #female reader #reader insert #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction

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sleepn0tfound · 4 months ago

Text

That's MY Daughter

DC x Fem!Neglected!Batsis! Reader x Marvel [Just some midnight thoughts]

Bruce and Tim realised something odd about Stark Industries. Ever since a few months ago the technology being produced there had improved by an unbelievable amount. It was futuristic, nothing that this world has seen before. And the weirdest part of it is the fact that Tony Stark had offered to partner up with Wayne Enterprises. THE Tony Stark, Iron Man, the most egotisical man they knew had willingly offered to partner up with them? After years of being petty with Bruce and the JL?

Tim had been made to prepare to become the new CEO soon, thus he recently started taking up more work at Wayne Enterprises when the agreement was made. Though instead of Tony being the one to talk about ideas it was an unknown woman communicating with him about the ideas, the product, the marketing, etc. And the merge of the two companies was an absolute success, the marketing especially drawing in young adults. (courtesy of Tim and the mysterious women who seems to be around the same age as him)

Who was the mysterious women though? Well both Bruce and Tim could only come to one solution. The least known character to Bruce, to Batman, which says a lot considering the fact that he had made a contingency plan for every Avenger, every hero, including his own teammates, including himself, yet this one character was completely unknown, zero plans if she were to go rogue. And that drove Bruce crazy. Her file was blank. Every vital information was marked with the word 'unknown'. It had been making Bruce paranoid for years since she had appeared next to the Avengers.

The reassurance from the Avengers never helped. It was as if something was gnawing at him. After all how could he trust them anyways? (careful Bruce your trust issues are showing)

One of the only things they knew about her is that she is the main hacker/coder for the Avengers, hence the reason why the Avengers digital security was admittedly better than the Justice League's and how much faster they got, what should be, classified information. (no matter how much Bruce wants to deny it)

And her codename, Special Agent Reaper. No she wasn't originally an Avenger, she was crowned the most skilled assassin of this era, working under S.H.I.E.L.D and one of the sole reasons why all of the HYDRA agents that have sneaked into S.H.I.E.L.D have been successfully taken out, her name would pass by in the wind every so often, they might be rumours or the truth but no one truly knows. Hell even Ra's Al Ghul, The Demon’s Head, had acknowledged her once. Even Talia had admitted that Damian's fighting technique was made to mirror The Reaper's, the only difference is he used katanas while the Reaper, fittingly, uses a scythe.

But one thing was for sure. If you saw the shadow of a hooded figure you better run, though at that point it might be too late.

As the saying goes, "Beware of the Grim Reaper. Wherever it goes death follows closely behind.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“Ah! Brucie! Here you are!” Tony said, wine in hand as he approached Bruce at the gala. Well that was a first. He usually never played into the Brucie persona. Well nonetheless the show must go on.

“Tony!” Bruce threw himself at the other billionaire, acting as if he was drunk, ignoring the way Tony’s expression turned into a grimace for a split second.

As usual, they were both around other pretentious socialites who never seemed to run out of questions.

“Ah! Tony, I heard Stark Industries have been bringing in more money than ever.”

“Oh yes! It’s all because of this prodigy i had found. She actually was the reason why Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises had a collab. I might even give the company to her when I retire!" He let out a laugh that seems to emanate the word 'rich', a small smirk stayed on his lips as he heard the guests at the gala begin to whisper.

"Oh? Is that so? Then I would love to meet the person I have been working with this entire time." Tim Drake-Wayne said as he finally came out of the corner where he would usually stay in to observe rather than interact.

"Be my guest." A subtle challenge, as if Tony was daring him to go through with it as they locked eyes. A smirk on one face while a well practiced smile on the other.

Bruce let out a light hearted laugh as he tightened his grip around Tony, a subtle warning to stay away from his son, "Well then I wouldn't mind arranging a meeting! I'm sure you wouldn't mind the others joining." His tone had a slight change that even the most observant wouldn't realise.

Bruce could barely keep up the 'Brucie' act with Tony bragging about how Stark Enterprises profits have shot up with him finding a 'prodigy' and someone who will take over the company once he retires.

"Not at all. The more the merrier. I assume you wouldn't mind me inviting more people as well." Tony sipped his wine, he wasn't one to back out from a challenge, especially when he is so confident.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

This certainly wasn't how the Justice League and the Avengers expected their next meeting to happen. A petty fight between the two men that singlehandedly funds their respective teams causing all of them to be in one room together.

"Well then, Stark. Where is this prodigy that you speak so highly of?" Bruce said as he sported his famous batglare.

"I assure you she is on her way. She should just be right about done with her mission." Tony replied with the same tone, shooting a glare as well.

Meanwhile the two teams were watching this as if it was the most entertaining show they have seen.

"Hey I'm here." Y/n entered the hall, still wearing her assassin suit, though her signature black hood was down, revealing her face.

Silence seemed to engulf the room.

"Kid... Your hood."

"...Fuck."

hi! i might have disappeared for a month :D To those who are waiting for more parts of DC x Super/Kent!Reader it will come... eventually. I'm having the biggest writer's block for that specific AU so uhm yeah! I wasn't really planning on making that AU a series since it was mostly just me being bored and writing for the lols but since it received so much attention [thank you guys so much!] I have to do it now. i was doing some worldbuilding and already know how I want the reader to be and allat but I cant really think of how to shape the story ukukuk. so yeah stay tuned for that! also this thing was also just a blurb. Might make somewhat of continuation parts if I feel like it. [Also the neglected!batsis! fanfics I've been reading is getting to me. i have a feral urge to create a diff AU series for that] Also would you guys be interested in me creating a twitter/insta account or like a tele channel to post random things

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anonymityisfunwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Every Part of You

Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader A.N. - Alright, I've been asked to write about Bucky and Sunshine's first time many, many times. And the thing is, like sure, I could write that, but also I want us to take a moment to consider trying to build up to that. There's so many firsts buried in there that I think need to be navigated through before they even get there. This is one of those firsts. Like the first time you see Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series

"You're just- " You stop speaking, searching for his lips again. Though you're breathless, you can't bring yourself to pull away from him, "You're so pretty."

You shudder as you feel his hand slip under your sweater. The occasional graze of the cool metal on your skin enough to send shivers down your spine.

His lips trail down, nipping at your jaw, "I'm not pretty."

Your hands, winded in the hair at the nape of his neck, glide down his neck, to clutch the fabric of his henley. The moment he feels your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, his heart hammers against his ribcage. Not in the sort of way that he usually feels in these moments with you. He feels a sense of dread, of panic. It wraps around his spine like a python. It feels like he can't breathe.

"You're so -"

He wrenches away from you, his chest heaving, "Stop, stop, stop."

You freeze, immediately dropping your hands. Panic starts creeping up your throat, coating your words. "Did I - did I do something wrong?"

He gulps, silently shaking his head. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, to regain the ability to speak clearly, "No, no, you're - you're perfect."

Guilt starts to eat at him. He can see you doing your very best to keep your own feelings off your face. He can see the sting of his rejection in the way your lips press together in a tight line. The embarrassment in the pallor of your once flushed cheeks.

You two have worked so hard to overcome your own personal issues and traumas, to build trust in each other, moments like these hadn't come easy. And he so callously pushed you away, it makes him feel worse. And what makes his heart ache even more, he sees nothing but concern for him shining in your eyes. You just look so worried for him.

Your hands rest in your lap. You twist and untwist your fingers. "If you don't want to, we don't - we don't have to do anything. I'm really sorry -"

"No, no, please don't be sorry." He reaches for you, gently squeezing your hand. It soothes him as much as it does you. "I want to. You don't know how much I want to."

"But?"

His eyes squeeze shut. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes. "You haven't seen it before - my arm, my shoulder."

"Oh."

He drops your hand. That feeling takes over him again. It feels like there's not enough air in the room. He slides away from you, closer to the edge of the tiny couch in your apartment. "It's - I am not pretty."

It breaks your heart, watching him pull away from you. You can only imagine how many people have turned away from him before. "James..."

He fervently shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes, "No, no, I know what you're gonna say, but it's bad. A lot worse than you're thinking."

"How do you know what I'm thinking?"

"It's bad," he insists. "I see it every day and I can barely - it's just bad, okay?"

You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want me to see it. I understand."

He finally opens his eyes again as his eyebrows pull together. He still doesn't meet your eye. "No, no, I want to - I trust you with this, I do. I just - I want you to be prepared."

In that moment, you realize that it's not really about preparing you. Not at all.

He thinks you're going to react badly. He thinks that this will make you turn away from him for the first time ever. He's worried that the love and adoration in your eyes will turn to disgust and repulsion.

It's less about preparing you for the scarred flesh, and more about warning you that he couldn't take a bad reaction. He's not sure he could take it if you turned away from him too.

"I love you," you promise him. "There's nothing that you could show me that would change that. I hope you know that."

There is no response to that. And you know that he won't believe it until he sees it. It takes him a moment. His hand toys with the hem of his shirt. His hand grips the hem, only to let it go.

"I love you," you remind him.

He takes a large gulp of air, pulling off his shirt with one quick movement.

You weren't really sure what you were expecting. You knew the story. You knew how Bucky lost his arm. He even confided the bits and pieces he remembered from getting his vibranium arm.

Your eyes trail over his skin. The shoulder is scarred, scars jut in every direction. Each scar is etched into his skin. It's clear it was a painful, violent experience for him. The metal plate protrudes from the scar tissue in a way that you're sure was painful when first placed. You look on with curiosity, you're not really sure how this, a sign of survival, a badge of resilience, could ever make anyone turn away from him.

He's as breathtaking as you could ever imagine.

Your eyes flicker up at him. He looks at the blank wall of your apartment, scared to watch your facial expressions as you take it in. "Can I?"

He nods, barely able to look you in the eyes. He sucks in a breath when your fingers make contact with the scar tissue surrounding the metal plate.

You immediately pull your fingers back, worried you've accidentally hurt him. "Does it hurt?"

"No," he answers reflexively.

You know he's lying. "I've seen you holding your shoulder before - holding it like it hurts."

"Sometimes," he amends. "The doctor said there's a lot of nerve damage. Things they can't fix."

"Does it hurt now?"

"No."

You run your hand over the plate, over his scars, down to his shoulder blade.

"Still think I'm pretty?" he sarcastically remarks.

You press a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'll always think you're pretty. Every part of you."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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heartandbow · 4 months ago

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Midnight Blue

BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER SMUT

summary: Bucky hated you in many different ways, and tonight was no exception. tw; smut, choking, dom!bucky.

Despite Bucky's reputation of being big, bad, and dangerous, there is yet to be a time he ever scared you. Even now, where he was in the very building somewhere to kill you, you knew his only weakness — he couldn't sneak around.

It's not surprising when you think about it. With his death stare and metallic arms, anybody would spot him coming from a mile away. You just have to make sure you're faster than him, which happened to be your specialty. Being a thief for the last few years taught you everything there is to know about blending in with the shadows.

Which was a shame, you thought, because I look nice today.

You did look nice. You were currently in a gala for some valiant cause or other, hosted by some rich businessman you hadn't bothered to catch the name of. You had on your midnight blue gown, embedded with pearls that reflected off the champagne glasses and Rolex watches.

"Excuse me," one of the attendees said, tapping your shoulder. "Are you Miss Malley?"

"No," you smiled broadly, knowing the guy was about to hit on you any second.

"Oh, my mistake." He had a sheepish grin. "I'm Shane. Can I buy you a drink?"

"The drinks are free," you said, grinning right back.

"I know."

"Aren't you busy trying to find Miss Malley?"

"Who?" The smile hadn't worn off.

This particularly uninteresting conversation was cut short by sudden silence at the gala. The foolish sack of a man had diverted your attention just enough that you saw a metallic death stare at the end of the gala — a stare that seemed just for your particular demise.

Don't panic, you thought, staring right back. He wouldn't dare hurt you with this many people present. Even then, he was making his way towards you. You moved away, silent as a ghost.

With each turn of crowd, you realized you might quite possibly be stuck. Bucky had brought in reinforcement ranging from Natasha Romanoff to Captain America, all of them in regal formal attire and in different corners. No one except Bucky had spotted you, possibly because he was the only person who actually had a personal vendetta against you.

Get out, your brain said clearly. Get out before they bring you to Stark. You had enough beef with that man to last for a lifetime.

You grimaced, then looked for the exit. Not the one that the attendees use, no, that would be too easy. You headed for the staff exit, the one behind the kitchen.

---------------

Half an hour later, you were walking through the dark alley, your heels clinking against the pavement. You were exhausted from all the walk, but you were used to this dance by now. Move until the target is off your back. That's how it's always been.

You wondered if you'd ever get tired of the steps.

Someone whistled. You turned to see a man around his late 40s, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"How much for the night, sweetie?"

You squinted. He looked harmless enough. You kept on walking, ignoring his continuous calls behind your back.

"Don't be like that! What, I'm not young enough for you? I thought your kind took money from anyone with a dick!"

You had half a mind to punch him in the face with the hidden knife.

No, walk on. Last thing you need is a corpse on the street.

A second passed, then two. The man's immediate silence ticked off your senses. You turned around to see him on the floor, unconscious. Somehow, it did not look like it was the alcohol that took him out.

You were almost impressed when a knife appeared at your throat from behind.

"You're getting better at sneaking around," you said proudly. "You didn't have to knock him out though. Chap was not laying a hand on me."

"Shut the fuck up." Bucky's raspy voice sent a jolt of adrenaline down your spine. His anger was controlled, but you still could hear it.

"Your wish." You stepped on his shoes. He let out a pang of hurt, not expecting your heels to feel that sharp.

One moment of distraction, that's what cost him. You whipped your gun and faced him, smile on your face.

"How did you find me?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"That hardly matters." He put his hand out, grabbing the gun, or trying to anyways. You stepped out of the way just in time and he grunted.

"You need to loosen up. Like the night we did the Catherbury mission, remember?"

That only seemed to rile him up more. You didn't think he even cared that much about the fact that you were in Avengers a good deal of time before you sneaked into Stark's office, got his card, stole a great deal of gadgets and sold them off the black market. You didn't think he even cared you were the biggest thief in the city, one that fooled even the avengers.

His vendatta against you was personal, because he considered you his friend. The cold, cruel Bucky was duped for the world to see.

"I really think we should sit down and talk," you said, the gun still held high. "Everything I did was business Bucky, stop taking it so personally."

Bucky's face showed just a tinge of hurt, but then he hurled — no weapons, no hesitation. Just full-on pounced on you, and your back hit the wall.

"If everything wasn't so fucking personal, shoot me," he practically spat out those words.

You realized you hadn't even thought of using the gun that lay hanging lifeless from your hands. You tried to grip it, but Bucky pushed his hand on top of it, bending the metal seamlessly in a way it was upside down. You let it go and tried to move.

Bucky clapped his hands on the wall on either side of your head. His eyes were smeared with charcoal and he smelt like musky cologne.

"Where's your disappearing act now?" he whispered, making you feel all sorts of things.

"Let me go," you said, gritting your teeth. God, he was standing too close.

He bent his head down and brought his lips near your ears.

"You've no clue how long I wanted to have you like this," he said, making your heart skip a beat. "Unescapable, vulnerable, scared."

"I'm not scared."

"You should be." He put his hand — the non-metallic one — over your throat. His touch was gentle, but the message was clear; he could kill you in a touch.

Though it didn't help that you liked it a little too much.

"How did you find me?" you asked again, calmly.

"Shane is my friend. He put a GPS tracker on you. I knew you'd run so all I had to do was wait."

You were impressed yet again.

"How did Shane find me? I was blending in the crowd well."

Bucky's eyes shone brighter. "You weren't going to blend in with a dress that beautiful," he stopped, removing his hand. It was as if he just realized how close he actually was to you. His eyes slid down to your lips just a second. His hands started lowering from the wall to your waist.

Then his lips were on yours, and you could have sworn he put all his anger into it. One kiss and he was prying your lips open, making out with you in that dark alley with a knocked out man five feet away.

"James," you whined between kisses, pulling him closer. The moans did things to his brain. He slid his hands through the slit of your dress, grabbing your thigh with a force that had you unnerved.

"Can I—"

"Yes."

He closed your mouth with his other hand. "No, listen to me first. I want you to mean it. Completely. Because I don't know the things I'll do to you when you say yes."

In response, you took his hand from your thighs and slid them higher, right into your panties. You pressed your body against his and you could feel him being hard.

"I hate you," he said curtly, then picked you up with effortless strength. Two minutes and you were in a secluded part of the alley, and he was setting you down on an old bench. He bent down, keeping eye contact with you all the while.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, placing a kiss on your neck. You moaned, but didn't move. He dragged your lips from your collarbones to the edge of your neckline, and pulled the dress down.

Without waiting a beat, he took off your bra and kissed your nipples.

"Bucky," you whined, and all he did was bite down harder. He let his hand drag down and pushed two fingers right into your pussy. The pain was immediate and pleasurable. His pace was slow and you started grinding on his fingers for more friction.

"Shush," he said, taking off his fingers and setting you up straight. "Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?"

"Yes," you said, moving in for a kiss. He turned his head away.

"Beg."

"Fuck me Bucky, please." You moved your hand to his pants, and he looked like he might lose all control. A few seconds of unbuckling and he took you in his arms, pressing you down to the bench and spread your legs wide.

You were wet already, and the sight of his big, hard cock hadn't helped. You were dripping down your panties.

"Beg," he said again, taking off your panties and throwing them away.

"Please fuck me, James, fuck—" you gasped when he thrust his dick in you. A moment of holding onto his hand and he was fucking you like you were his. He leaned over and bit down on your neck. A kiss and a few sucking and you knew that was going to leave a mark.

You didn't care. You were being dicked out of your soul and you were taking every second of it.

Then it stopped. He pulled away from you, his dick still hard. You were confused to see that big smile on his face, even more so when he started zipping his pants.

"You left me three months ago," he said, straightening his hair. He leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Next time you think of me, I want you to think of me fucking you like you're my bitch. How having my hands on your throat was enough to make you wet."

Revenge. That's what it was?

"You wanted to fuck me to make me regret lying to you?" you asked breathlessly, feeling ashamed that it already worked.

Bucky smiled. "I wanted to fuck you for a whole lot reasons Y/N, but I also want you to knock on my door and apologize, preferably on your knees and begging. On all fours. I'd sacrifice the rest of the night to see that."

He pulled you up and put the dress on tidily. "Goodbye. And, you really do look beautiful."

Motherfucker, you thought to yourself as he left.

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commissions info

kofi

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #marvels #x reader #female reader #reader insert #bucky x you

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lokis-dark-queen · 2 years ago

Text

Tropical Teasing (Tropical Tension Pt2)

Loki/Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Loki and his love are enjoying a blissful, romantic vacation after their first night together. However, after Loki leaves an embarrassing mark on her neck, she pushes herself away from him for a few hours. Little does she know, a few hours without Loki feels like a guilt filled lifetime.

Warnings/Notes: SMUT 18+ MDNI!!! A lil bit of angst, depressed Loki, bisexual reader and Loki (they literally come out to each other it’s adorable), lots of teasing, Unprotected sex, Beach Sex, Skinny Dipping, Oral (F and M receiving), other stuff I probably forgot.

Word Count: 9.3k

Also on AO3

*Header from Pinterest*

“This isn’t a honeymoon you guys.”

Agent Barton’s words were lost in a haze of love and lust from you and Loki. A whole year of teasing from the two of you came to head within one night and now you couldn’t get enough of each other. Every touch, every kiss was intoxicating. You were addicted.

It was day three of your seven day getaway and you and Loki were on each other like it was mating season. Within this short time you nearly lost count of the orgasms he had given you. That number would only increase within the coming days. You were for sure of that as he currently was buried in your cunt.

It was intended to be an innocent shower to clean up before you met with your friends at the resort for massages. Loki raised an eyebrow at this activity and questions spewed endlessly from his lips.

“You’ll be undressed in front of others?”

“Well, yes and no. I’ll be covered with a long towel.” You tirelessly answer.

“Who is touching you in such a way? It certainly isn’t me.” He pries even more.

“A professionally trained masseuse who has done this a million times. Nakedness is not always sexual. I've had a tiring past month, I need to relax.” You tell him, undressing for a quick shower.

“That’s my job! Have I not fulfilled you, my love?” He walks closer, running his fingers down your spine.

“You have fulfilled me plenty, Loki. And you will have many opportunities to do it again. But please, don’t worry about it. It’s an innocent massage.” You reason with him, brushing his dark hair from his bare shoulders.

Loki sighed, he could only be stubborn for so long. He did say that he wanted you to enjoy your trip after all. “Fine. Do not forget who you belong to.” He kisses your temple possessively.

“And who is that? Because I think it's Fury with all the work he’s been making me do.” You roll your eyes, recalling the tiring mission.

“Stop that, don’t make me remind you!” He threatens.

“Maybe I do need a refresher.” You tease. Even after he claimed you for the first time and confessed his love for you, the teasing would never end.

That was how you ended up in your current position with your back sliding up and down the wet, tile wall of the hotel shower. Loki supported your body with his hands hooked under your thighs as he thrusted between them, his forehead resting on your shoulder. Your fingernails dug into the wet flesh of his pale shoulders as you both chased your highs.

“Hurry- Loki- I’m gonna AH! I’m gonna be late!” You remind him of your plans in broken moans.

“Don’t rush me, woman!” He growls, raising his head to bite at the base of your neck. A gesture you didn’t think too much of at the moment. “We’re done when you cum around my cock and I cum inside that pretty cunt.”

“Yeah, that’s the whole point.” You giggle teasingly before one hand wraps around your throat.

“Watch that smart mouth around me, pet. Or I'll put it to better use and leave you needy for me.” He threatens.

His bold action and words pushed you closer to the edge, your legs wrapped tighter around his moving hips.

“N-no sir- I’m sorry! I’ll be good- PLEASE!” You scream out for him, hoping the running water will conceal your screams to avoid another noise complaint.

“Good girl.” His hand drops from your neck to run tight circles around your clit, “Now cum for me.”

You scream out his name as you follow his stern orders. Your pussy clenching around his thrusting cock just like he wanted. Your orgasm triggering his own. A deep, breathy moan slipped from his pink lips as he spilled his cum deep inside you. Thankfully, in this setting, cleanup wouldn’t be much of an issue.

After your short shower session, you sat at the vanity, drying your hair as fast as you could to make it in time. You watched Loki behind you from the reflection of the mirror as he dried his perfect body, still very much naked.

You smiled to yourself, wondering how you landed such a perfect man who was also amazing in the bedroom. Was it because he was a god? Or was he just very experienced? He was over a thousand years old, so you imagined he had some impressive sexual conquests under his literal and metaphorical belt.

Turning your eyes back to yourself, you made a discovery. An obvious mark of Loki’s love at the base of your neck for all to see. Sure, basically everyone knew that you and Loki were fucking, but they didn’t need to be reminded every time they looked at you. All your sundresses were revealing, therefore you had no way to hide it. You clenched your jaw and whipped around to face the god behind you.

“Loki!” You yell, quickly grabbing his attention.

“What?” He asks with just a touch of too much attitude.

“What! That’s all you have to say? Well I have a question for you mischief, what the hell is this?” You push your hair back and pull the collar of your silk robe aside, revealing the mark to his eyes.

Loki smirked, fully aware of what he had done, “That? Well darling, that is my mark to show whoever touches you that you are mine.” He states as if it was obvious.

“No! It’s embarrassing! Everyone saw us Loki, they heard us! This is completely unnecessary.” You scold him, giving him a light smack on his chest when you approached his bare form.

“Maybe they did. But the masseuse didn’t.” He replies confidently, like a smartass.

Now, you loved Loki, and you would never hurt him. But gods above, you were so tempted to smack him across his pretty face so hard that the smirk he was currently donning would fly across the room and never return. You simply just rolled your eyes, turning to your makeup bag to grab some last minute coverup.

“Now I'm really going to be late.” You growl to yourself, giving a deadly side glance to Loki.

“Hey! What are you doing? Are you trying to hide-”

“Yes, Loki! Yes I am!” Your playful teasing turning into a full blown argument.

Loki was taken back by your words, by your anger. He didn’t think you would care so much. He turned away, clothing himself with magic before sitting on your shared bed, sulking, hoping you would feel sorry for him. Like you always did before.

You sloppily covered the hickey in a rush before throwing on a flowy sundress with a white bikini underneath, choosing to wear swimwear instead of underwear on this vacation. You walked to the door, pausing to look at Loki as he slumped on the bed.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” You say before making your leave.

“Wait!” Loki stops you in your tracks, much to his relief, you stop and hear what he has to say.

“What?” You ask in an impatient tone.

“I can remove it with magic, if you want.” He offers.

You sigh, cocking your head towards the gloomy god, “Don’t bother.” Was the last words you muttered before closing the door. Loki was surprised you didn’t take him up on his offer, perhaps you weren't as angry as you led on.

The raven haired man plopped on the bed, what was he to do while you were away? He hoped that you wouldn’t be angry when he saw you again, perhaps he should apologize. He truly didn’t expect you to be so upset about his mark. Seeing you angry genuinely scared him, it was not an emotion that he wanted you to feel towards him. He only wanted to make you happy, he feared he had already ruined things between you. Maybe he was truly never meant to be loved. Loki felt no motivation to go outside and socialize. He used his magic to close the curtains, covering the view that you loved so much as he laid on the bed. At least you were enjoying yourself on vacation.

–

Your sandals slapped against the polished floor of the hotel lobby as you met with your friends, who were all waiting for you.

“Sorry I’m late.” You apologize as you approach the girls.

“It’s okay, I was once in a new, budding relationship as well.” Wanda states, playfully winking at you.

You laugh uncomfortably, they all knew, there was no need to obviously remind them with a mark on your skin.

Wanda and Pepper look around the resort as you walk to your massage appointment. You quietly trail behind them, recalling your quarrel with Loki. Part of you felt guilty, maybe you should have at least resolved things before leaving. You knew how he could get, he was most likely wallowing in his own pity right now. He never dealt with arguments well, you knew that after hearing his many fights with Thor. You remembered how he would lock himself inside of his room. On a good day he would just be reading a book, acting like the situation never happened. Other times, he would wallow in his bed for days on end, until you went in there to cheer him up.

You knew that you were most likely his only source of happiness in this mortal world he found himself in. And his only source of happiness just yelled at him for trying to show his love in the only way he knew how, by being possessive. Loki didn’t have many things to himself growing up. He had to share his mother and father’s attention with Thor, one more than the other. As they became grown men, they would even have to share the same women who brought them pleasure late at night. Loki felt as if he was constantly being compared to his brother, so when he had you, he wanted to make sure that you were only his. Not just so that his brother knew, but that the whole word knew that you were his. Guilt filled your veins as you thought it over, half tempted to ditch your friends and go smooth things over with him before he got too depressed over it.

“What are you zoning out about?” Natasha spoke up next to you, pulling you out of your trance.

You sighed, deciding to be honest with her, “I yelled at Loki over something that wasn’t a big deal. I was just stressed that I would be late. I feel so awful.” You confess to your best friend.

“Why did you yell at him?” She asks.

You tense up, face flushed. It was all so embarrassing, “Well… he um.” You stuttered in an attempt to get the words out, “He gave me a ‘mark’ in a place that was too visible.” You answered in a hushed tone, making sure the two women in front of you didn’t hear.

Natasha laughed, “What? That’s it? I thought he put baby powder in your hairdryer or something mischievous like that. He seems like the kind of guy who would do that. I don’t know why you’re so surprised.”

“It would have been fine if he didn’t give it to me at the last minute before I had to leave.” You roll your eyes.

“You two were going at it before you met us? No wonder you were late. Where is it?” Her curiosity getting the best of her.

“Here.” You bashfully point to the poorly covered spot on your neck, apparently it wasn’t that bad if a super spy hadn’t noticed it immediately.

“Oh… I see it now. You tried your best covering it up, huh?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out sarcastically, letting your hair fall into place to cover the faded mark.

“He’s just insecure. He wants to make sure everyone knows you’re his property.” The redhead laughs.

“I’m not ‘property’, don’t put it like that. It's embarrassing.”

“Just to remind you, he was basically between your thighs the other night as he licked salt from between your tits and slowly took that lime from your mouth. Is his little mark more embarrassing than that?” She reminds you.

All you wanted to do right now was crawl into a hole and bury yourself. You put yourself on full display for everyone just so that Loki would make a brave move. Now you shamed him for doing the equivalent, you wanted to go back to him, you needed to.

“We’re here!” Pepper squeals in excitement as all of you approach the entry of the resort. Four private massage tables were set up with a view of the beach and you reminded yourself how sore your muscles were.

‘Surely he’ll be okay for another hour.’

Each of you walk into different rooms to undress, wrapping your bare form in a robe before walking out. You inspected yourself in the mirror first, the quick makeup job on your neck was fading from your sweat thanks to the humid air. You grabbed a tissue to rub the rest off.

‘Fuck it’

–

The sound of the waves calmed you as the masseuse worked at your tense muscles. Your argument with Loki had been long forgotten as the world melted away in perfect silence.

Unfortunately, the silence only lasted for a few fleeting seconds before the girls around you decided to start talking, gossiping about their personal lives. It didn’t take long for them to start talking about their men.

“I love Tony and all, but his ego just ruins him for others. If only they could all see how he is with me, no smartass comments, he just only says yes around me. It’s amazing.” Pepper once again tries to defend Stark.

“No smartass comments? Yeah, I don’t buy that for a second.” Natasha doubts the woman.

“Well, not in an egotistical way, it’s more in a flirtatious way.” She claims.

“Oh, if only Vision knew what flirting was. It’s so cute in a way, he is terrible at taking hints.” Wanda rolls her eyes sarcastically.

“He’s lucky he has you then, or else Tony would have to build another robot to keep him company.” Natasha giggles as the witch throws her a glare.

“What about you?” Wanda says your name, pulling you into the conversation unwillingly, “What is Loki like as a lover?”

“Yeah, and we want all the dirty details.” Natasha wiggles an eyebrow from her face down position.

“Well, maybe not all of them. We are in public.” Pepper reminds the ladies.

You sighed, groaning at the thought of the god who was most likely sulking in your room right now and the masseuse working on a knot in your lower back.

“He’s amazing. What else is there to say?” You simply state.

“Oh c’mon, you guys have had unbearable tension for like a year. There has to be more to it than that.” Natasha turned her head to the side so that you could see her eyes roll.

“He’s so shy, is he like that with you?” Pepper asks.

“Absolutely not, and he’s not shy. He just hates everyone.” You scoff.

“Oh? So he’s more dominant?” Natasha questions, clearly wanting to know the more perverted details.

“Nat!” Pepper scolds the curious spy.

“What? It’s just girl talk.” Natasha plays it off.

“We are not the only ones here!” Pepper stresses, reminding you of the four masseuses working on all of you.

“We’ve heard worse.” The woman who is currently working on loosening up your shoulders speaks up.

Natasha laughs and persits with her dirty questions, “See? They’ve heard it all.”

You sigh, if they want to hear it, then you'll give it to them. “Where do I start? He’s so gentle and cautious at first, almost like he’s afraid to hurt me. And he teases, it’s almost unbearable sometimes. He doesn’t just jump right into it, oh no, he takes his sweet time. Oh, and he insists on going down on me. I don’t have to ask or tell him what to do, he just knows, y’know?” You pause, the other women completely silent, invested in every word you said, “The name ‘silver tongue’ holds many meanings. After I literally have to push him away from me, he always asks if I'm okay. He whispers into my ear and holds me like a porcelain doll, you wouldn’t believe how gentle he can be. What next? Oh, he’s huge by the way. I sometimes ask myself, ‘how is he so perfect?’ Then I remember that he is a literal god. I have a faint idea of how much of a whore he was in Asgard, but with what he knows how to do, it’s fine. I’ll spare you the gory details, but I've never had to show him how to make me finish, he just knows. And afterwards, oh, he’s so sweet and caring, you wouldn’t believe it’s the same man.” You breathe in happily, recalling every intimate moment the two of you have shared within the past seventy-two hours, heat rushing between your legs as you did so. “So that’s what it’s like to sleep with a god, since you were so curious.”

A stiff moment of silence covers the room, the women finally shutting up as you listen to the crash of the waves in the distance in content.

“Maybe I haven't heard it all.” The masseuse finishes up your massage with the others, your blissful hour has come to an end.

You sit up slowly, your once tense muscles now relaxed as you wrap yourself in a towel to cover yourself, the other women doing the same as they all look at you with horror in their pretty eyes.

“Are you sure you guys have only been banging for like three days? Because what you said sounds like at least a few months worth of experience.” Wanda breaks the silence with a question.

“Oh, it has been a very eventful three days.” You admit.

“I can tell.” Wanda motions to the mark Loki had left. You now wore it with pride. It showed that he was yours just as much as you were his.

“We’re not taking you anywhere until your honeymoon phase is over.” Pepper rolls her eyes, her freckled cheeks slightly flushed.

“Hey! Nat started it!” You blame the woman sitting on the table that was next to yours.

“No I didn’t!” She defends herself.

“You did say that you wanted to hear all the dirty details.” Wanda reminds her.

“I didn’t think that she would actually describe it!” She admits.

You laugh at the women’s bickering, running your hand over the hickey. The mark you once were embarrassed of now felt comforting, like he was with you. You couldn’t get over the sinking feeling that he needed you right now. Not sexually, but emotionally.

–

When you and the girls arrived at the hotel you found everyone at the private seating area outside, waiting for dinner to be served. However, Loki was nowhere to be found. You had a feeling he wouldn’t be here, you doubt that he left the room at all today.

“Have you seen Loki today?” You ask Thor after waving him down.

“I thought he was with you all day.” He states, gnawing gluttonously at a kebab.

You sigh at his response. This was a vacation for christ’s sake! Even if you did piss him off he should be outside reading a book by the pool at least. You immediately go back inside the hotel and head for your shared room. Once again you would have to cheer him up, and give him an apology.

When you opened the door to your room it was pitch black, the curtains drawn shut. If you didn’t know any better you would assume it was empty. That was until you saw a god sized lump underneath the white, pristine hotel sheets. Had he seriously been there all day?

“Loki, it’s time to eat. I’m sure you’re hungry.” You tell him, sitting at the edge of the bed.

His only response was a few muffled groans underneath the covers, you couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“I can’t hear you, my love.” You lean in closer, pulling the top of the blanket down past his head.

“Not hungry.” Was all he said in return.

“Yes you are, you haven’t eaten all day. I know you haven't, so don't try to lie to me.”

He stayed silent, you didn’t think that you hurt him this much. You rub his back over the covers, even under the sheets you could feel his muscles relax at your touch. He missed your touch all day, even when you were apart for a mere few hours, he longed for you.

“Loki… I am so sorry. I overreacted this morning. I know how you are, I know you want everyone to know that I am yours. I’m just not used to that type of affection, it’s new for me. But they know now.” You smile to yourself as his back is turned to you. Your fingers travel upwards to play with the tangled, black locks of hair. “They asked about you, my friends. Do you want to know what I said to them?”

“What?” He mutters his question.

“I told them about how amazing you are. How sweet and gently you treat me, like I’m a princess. I had to let them know how perfect you were so that all their boyfriends would feel inferior. Because now they know that I have the best man I could ever ask for.” You lean down to kiss his cheek. The slight taste of salt lingered from your lips, he must have been crying.

He shifted, blankets rustling as he turned to face you, “Is that true?” He asks, taking your hand into his.

“Would I ever lie to my god?” You hold his hand tightly, making sure he never lets go.

“I suppose not.” Even in the dark of the room you can see his beautiful smile.

You lean your body over his to place a soft kiss on his lips, they were dry. Clearly he didn’t eat or drink anything today. His large hands ran up your body, memorizing every curve in the dark like he was being tested on it. The kiss deepens as you push your body closer to his. He felt your skin in the darkness, it was soft from the massage oil. After a few more seconds you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“How was your massage, darling?” He asks, tracing circles on your bare shoulder blades and fidgeting with the straps of your sundress.

“It was amazing, I feel so much better.” You admit, falling into his touch. You hovered your face next to his to whisper in his ear, “I wished it was you though. I had to keep myself from imagining your hands all over me so I wouldn’t get horny.”

Loki chuckles, “Poor thing, I was wrong to assume that you would forget who you belong to.”

You sit up, straddling his hips that were covered by multiple layers of fabric. He holds both of your hands with his. Using his magic to turn on the lights so he could properly see you above him. His pupils widened at the sight of you. Your skin had a beautiful shine, your cleavage was very visible from his place beneath you and the skirt of your dress sprawled around your slightly spread thighs. He could see the mark that he left, no trace of makeup was found on top of it.

“I love it when you admit that you’re wrong.” You giggle, putting more weight on your hands as he pushes back, keeping you relying on his strength to keep you from falling face first.

“Don’t get used to it.” He rolls his eyes, letting go of your hands before sliding his fingers under the skirt of your dress. You began to feel his hardness underneath the comforter. A wet spot started to form in your bikini bottoms as he fidgeted with the waistband.

Between the relaxing massage and your current situation, your arousal was becoming too strong to ignore. However, the growl in your stomach showed what you needed more at the moment.

“Loki, I love you. But I’m so hungry, can we eat first?” You ask him.

Loki groaned in annoyance, “Just something quick?” He answers your question with another question. Though it was more of an offer for a compromise.

“I was thinking we could save it all for later. I want to go to the beach.” You tell him.

“So I have to wait until after dinner and a beach trip? Are you trying to kill me?” He attempts to guilt you.

You laugh at his borderline whining, “Let me reiterate, I want to have dinner, then go to the beach. A very private beach, alone with you.” You smirk, knowing he would get the hint.

You intended to have your private beach time with Loki last night, you had both hinted at it all day. That was until you got pulled into a drinking game with Natasha that you utterly lost and Loki had to carry you back up to your room.

His smirk matched yours, “You will not be having a drop of alcohol tonight to ensure that.” He demands.

You place your hand over your heart, “You have my word, tonight is about us.”

Finally, he sits up with you still on top of him, “As every night should be. Shall we?” He lifts you off of him and stands from the bed, placing you next to him.

Loki certainly looked like he literally laid in bed all day. His hair was a mess, his shirt long gone, and his lounge pants hung low on his hips. It was an insanely attractive look, though unfortunately, it was not dinner appropriate.

“You don’t look very ready.” You point out his disheveled appearance.

His appearance changes, a dark green tee covers his once exposed chest that you already missed dearly. Loose lounge pants turned into tight, black jeans, perfectly showing off the erection that you caused.

“Better?” He sarcastically asks, slightly raising his arms to present himself in his iconic pose.

“For now.” You tease and kiss him on the cheek.

–

You and Loki walked out to the outside dining area hand in hand. Everyone was too focused on their individual conversations to pay the two of you any mind. You felt relieved that everyone seemed to have already grown used to your relationship with Loki, or they just ignored it. You were happy either way, being teased by him and Natasha was enough. Extra pairs of prying eyes and questioning tongues would be too much for you to handle. You enjoyed being alone with him, even in a crowd it just felt like the two of you as he held your hand.

Loki quickly made his way to the self-serve buffet, dragging you behind him as you attempted to keep up with his stride.

“I thought you weren’t hungry?” You ask teasingly, recalling his dramatic words from earlier.

“Realistically, I could go days without eating. Tonight, however, I am hungry for something more delicious than any meal on earth or Asgard.” He turns slightly to give you a lustful glare, “Therefore, I want to eat and get out of here as quickly as possible.” He states, loading two plates, one for you and one for him.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, mischief. If you eat too fast you’ll get sick and then neither of us get what we want.” You tell him.

Loki scoffs as he holds the plates and guides you to a lonesome table, “Unlike you, darling, I have self control. And I know better than to get involved in a drinking contest with a Russian woman.”

“I never turn down a challenge, you of all people should know that.” You roll your eyes as you sit down to eat.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get alcohol poisoning.” He states, remembering how he carried your drunken form all the way back to your room from the beach.

“I have a great tolerance, excuse you. I lasted longer than the other girls.” You remind him.

Loki let out a sarcastic chuckle before taking another bite. You loved to see him like this. He was always happiest when he could be himself, teasing you and being generally mischievous.

Almost on cue, Natasha walks over with a drink in her hand, “Drink?” She offers, giving Loki a knowing look as he glared at her.

You laugh at the way they looked at each other with fuming anger, “Not tonight, Natty. I’m still recovering.” You put your hand up slightly as you turned down her offer.

“If you say so.” She smirks, taking a sip of the drink, “Any big plans tonight?” She asks.

“We were just going to go walk our dinner off at the beach afterwards.” You tell her, purposefully keeping your plans vague. Loki nodded along, hoping that your friend would mind her own business for once.

Natasha smirks, knowing that she was currently pissing off your boyfriend, “Me and the girls were thinking of a night swim, would you like to join us?” She asks you, ignoring Loki’s painful glare.

Before you could answer, Loki speaks up for you, “No. She would not.”

You try your best to not giggle at him, he was making damn sure that he would not be deprived of you for another night.

“Hey! How about you let her answer the question.” She snaps at him, leaning down to whisper not so quietly in your ear, “Is he always this controlling? I’m worried.” She asks, knowing that Loki could fully hear her.

Glancing at Loki’s handsome, unamused face, you answered her. “He’s just antsy, I promised him something.” You hint, hoping that your answer would push her away.

“Ooh-” She realizes and stands up straight, raising her hands on your shoulders, “I see how it is.” She brushed your hair back to reveal the mark at the base of your neck. Loki was about to leave fifty more on you if she kept this up, “Have fun with her, she’s special, y’know?”

You giggle at her words, she was doing everything she could to make him despise her right now.

“Oh- I am very aware of how special she is.” He growls, eyes fuming with jealousy. It caused a rush of heat to flow between your thighs.

“Good. Because if you hurt her, I will kill you.” She threatens the god across from you.

You speak up before Loki could get a word out, “Thank you, Natasha. Go bother Steve or Bruce.” You suggest.

She giggles before stepping away, “If you insist, see you around.” She plays with your hair once more before walking back to her table.

You watch her before turning back to the jealous god, his glare now turned on you.

“What?” You ask with a hint of attitude.

Loki sighs, sitting back in his chair, “Finish your dinner.”

Both of you finished your food in a rushed silence. Loki wanted nothing more than to slip away from the crowd with you, unnoticed and unbothered.

As the two of you went to make your leave, Thor stepped in front of Loki, stopping his eager brother in his tracks.

“Brother! Off so soon? There is a whole night ahead of us! Give the lady a break.” Thor slurs, clearly a few drinks in.

Loki rolls his eyes at Thor. You stood next to him in silence, watching the way Loki clenched his jaw in annoyance. He was so hot when he was pissed, and everyone seemed to go out of their way to get on his nerves tonight. In an unintended way, it prolonged your teasing. Loki would have a copious amount of pent up emotions that he would be taking out on you in the best way possible later. And you couldn’t wait.

“Mind your own, brother. She is fine.” He holds your hand a little tighter.

“I’ve had a long day Thor, I’m just ready to retire for the night. I’ll join you guys tomorrow.” You speak up, intending on sounding like you innocently wanted to go to bed.

Thor’s eyes dart between you and Loki for a few seconds, then a warm smile appears on the blond god’s face, “If you insist.” He acknowledges your statement before he looked at his raven haired brother, “I’m happy for you, Loki. You deserve a love like her’s” He pats his younger brother on the shoulder.

You could tell that Loki was caught off guard by Thor’s words. Even if they were the words of a tipsy god, they were sincere. Loki is frozen in place, staring at his brother with wide eyes as he stumbles away, demanding another drink from the bar.

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask as you squeeze his hand for comfort.

Loki breaks out of his trance and looks over to you, “Never better.” He smiles genuinely. Your chest warmed and your heart skipped a beat. He was so beautiful when he was happy. It wasn’t an emotion that he showed to others often. You get to see that smile every day, the same smile that you see when you wake up next to him in the morning after a night of pleasure. It was the smile of a man who had found everything he wanted after years of searching. You mirrored his joy with a smile of your own. Everyone probably thought the two of you looked insane as you briefly shared a moment of happiness with him. They would never understand how he made you feel.

–

The water reflected the pale moonlight as you walked hand in hand with Loki across the shore. You were making your way to a secluded cove that you found earlier, knowing that it would be the perfect spot. Your other hand held a rolled up beach towel that you quickly grabbed from your room. Sex on the beach was exciting and all, however, you wanted to keep the sand out of places it had no business being in.

Loki was surprisingly quiet. At first you wondered if he was still upset from this morning, then you realized that for once in his long life, he was at peace. He didn’t have to prove himself to anyone or deal with the stress of battle. He was content. You could tell that he was thinking though, what it was about, you had no idea.

“Are you still there?” You quietly ask him.

“Me? Of course I am.” He answers.

“Just making sure. Y’know, if you’re tired we can just head back-” You began to tease before he cut you off.

“No! This is all I longed for all day, we will not be interrupted in our time together.” He growled, walking a little faster to reach your destination ahead.

“Just making sure.” You giggle at his eagerness, “You just looked lost in thought. Was it Thor?”

Loki sighs, “Partially, Yes. He caught me off guard with that statement.” He admits.

“You know what they say, drunken words are sober thoughts. He loves you, Loki. No matter what, he will always be your brother.”

“I know. He’s an oaf, but I love him. He’s all I have for my family. Don’t tell him that I said that.” His voice darkens threateningly at his last few words.

“I won’t.” You laugh a little at his empty threat, “What else are you thinking about?”

“What makes you think I’m thinking of something else?” He questions.

“Well, you said that Thor was partially the reason. What’s the other part?” You hoped you weren’t prying too much.

Loki gives you a strange side glance before looking ahead once more, “Natasha. She’s too comfortable.”

“Ooh-” You realize his jealousy, “You know how us girls can be, we tell each other everything.”

“I am aware of how your female friendships can be. But she’s… flirting.” He states in concern.

“Don’t feel threatened by her, she just likes to tease.” You tell him, hoping to ease his worries.

“May I ask you something personal, darling? You don’t have to answer if you don’t feel comfortable.” His thumb strokes the skin of your soft hand, reminding you that you were safe with him.

“What is it?” You ask cautiously.

Loki is silent for a few seconds, mentally searching for the correct words to say. “I apologize if I misread things, please tell me if I'm wrong. You are just so close, so comfortable with her. I know that you aren’t like that with the others. Was there ever a point where you two were perhaps… more than friends?” He reveals his curiosity.

Your eyes widened a bit, he noticed everything, “It was never serious, just some fun to keep each other company late at night.” You admit.

“I’m sorry if I was prying too much. I was just curious.” He apologizes.

“It’s fine. I’m not ashamed or anything, girls are hot too.” You tell him, feeling comfortable in his presence.

“So… You are interested in both sexes?” He asks for your confirmation.

“Who am I to be picky? I’ve felt this way since I was pretty young. It isn’t a problem, is it?” You look at him in a brief fear of rejection.

“No no! Not at all, I am the same way!” He admits with pride, happy that he can share this topic with you.

Pure joy runs through your body as you stop walking and leap into his arms, “I love you, so much. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Loki kisses your forehead, cradling your head as he did so, “I love you too, darling. You mean everything to me.”

You both pull back from the tight embrace to meet your lips in a passionate kiss. The waves of the endless ocean lapped over your bare feet as you stood on the tips of your toes to kiss the tall god. His strong arms wrapped possessively around your waist as he pulled you flush with his body. His neglected erection from earlier pressed against your lower stomach as he pushed his hips into yours slightly.

“How much longer?” He asks, growing impatient.

“It’s right up ahead.” You take his hand and lead him towards the secluded cove.

A brisk walk turned into a slow jog with Loki. Eventually, you dropped his hand and ran in front of him as he kept up. The thrilling feeling of being chased by the ravenous god turned you on immensely. It was like you were the prey and he was the hunter, ready to claim his next meal.

The privacy of the cove soon surrounded you as you finally reached your destination. When you stopped running and looked behind you, Loki was nowhere to be found. You grew scared for a fleeting second before you felt two strong arms cage your body from behind. You gasp as Loki places a kiss on your neck.

“Cheater!” You accuse him, knowing he teleported ahead of you.

“All is fair in love and war.” He retorts before laying the towel neatly on the ground with his magic.

Still standing, he kisses you deeply, passionately. The crescent moon gave the perfect amount of light as it reflected off the water. Loki slid the straps of your dress off your bare shoulders, kissing your skin as he did so. You knew he would leave more marks. Now, however, you wanted them. You belonged to Loki and he belonged to you. And who is to say that you can’t leave a few marks of your own on his glowing alabaster skin?

Your hands slide underneath his emerald green tee, lifting it slightly to expose his perfect stomach. You ran your hand up from his abdomen to his chest. Loki took the hint, pulling away from the kiss as he raised the useless fabric over his head. Gods he was beautiful.

Stepping back before his lips could find yours again, you abandon your dress. The only fabric on your body was the white bikini you had been wearing all day.

“What was that you said? About how you swam naked on Asgard?” You start with a smirk.

Loki’s lips twitched, knowing where this was going. “That it was the way the gods intended.” He finishes.

“And who are we to disappoint them?” You ask, untying your bikini top. Loki quickly removes his pants and underwear, leaving him perfectly bare before you in the moonlight.

Before your fingers could slip into your bottoms to remove them, Loki interrupted, “Please, allow me.” He offers, as if he wanted to unwrap his own gift.

You raise your hands in surrender, allowing Loki to do as he wished. He got on his knees in front of you, his hand pressed on your inner thigh, motioning for you to part your legs slightly. You do as he wants, standing with your legs slightly wider so that he can remove your final piece of clothing, if you could even call it that. He slowly slips the smooth bottoms from your hips, letting his hands run over your ass as he did so. Loki places a chaste kiss on your hip bone, worshiping you as if you were the god in this situation. Finally, the white bottoms fall to the sand beneath you, a visible wet spot from your arousal was evidence for your desire.

Loki slowly stands so that he is towering over you once again. His hands run down your back to your ass, giving it a slight squeeze which causes you to jump slightly at his touch. You start walking backwards toward the ocean behind you, stopping once the water kisses your heels. Loki was right in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours despite your nude form that he could be staring at if he so wished. Instead he focused on you, the way that your hand wrapped around his arm to lead him into the water with you. He didn’t just want your body, he wanted your soul.

Loki switched your positions so that he was the one leading you into the vast water, you held his hands as the waves lapped around your waist. He pulled you flush with him once again, pulling you into another passionate kiss. Everything felt ethereal, his wet skin against yours, the motion of the water against your body, it felt like a dream. Loki gently bit your lip teasingly as he pulled away, leaving you craving his taste. His hand cups some of the salty water and playfully pours it over your head, he watches as the droplets run down your nose, to your jaw, and eventually down your neck and chest.

“Great, now I have to wash my hair again.” You pout.

“Shhh…” He leans closer to your ear, his hand finding its place as it cupped one of your breasts, “No complaints tonight, just go with it.”

You gasp as two of his fingers tease your nipple, causing it to harden beneath his pinching motions. Your nails rake down the pale expanse of his back to his ass. You can’t help but give it a playful smack beneath the water.

“Watch it.” He growls in his best attempts to be intimidating.

“Apologies, my king. I suppose you can’t take what you hand out.” You smirk.

Loki simply responds by splashing you once again as he laughed. You do the same in return, making sure to soak his black curls. What was foreplay with Loki without at least a little bit of mischief? You expected him to splash you even harder, or maybe dunk you beneath the water. Instead he smiles, feeling a certain type of happiness that he had never felt before. He could never describe it if he tried, but it was a feeling that he could certainly get used to. His genuine smile threw you off guard for a few seconds. Your heart may have skipped a few beats at the sight of his pure happiness.

Once his eyes found yours again, he pulled your body towards him. Bending his knees slightly, he held the backs of your thighs and motioned for you to jump slightly so that he could hold you up. With no words exchanged, you took his hints, wrapping your legs around his slutty waist. His throbbing cock pressed against your wet cunt, causing you to moan at the contact. Your lips found his once again, your arms wrapped around his neck as he began to walk back to the shore. A slight chill ran over your wet skin as the humid air made contact with it.

When you and Loki completely emerged from the waves, lips never parting, he laid you down gently on the towel he had laid out. His perfect frame encased yours as he made his way down your body, placing wet kisses on your salty skin. Your fingers tangled in his raven locks that fell over his shoulders like a waterfall in the night. His lips ghosted over your mound, once again he was about to eat you out until you saw figurative stars instead of the literal ones that watched you in the sky.

One fat lick from his tongue on your slit had you gasping for air. “So wet for me, like a good girl.” He growls seductively.

“It’s always for you.” You speak quietly, he still hears you over the sound of the crashing waves.

“As it should always be.” You feel him smirk against your pussy before he opens his mouth more to slip his tongue in and out of your wet entrance and up to your clit, where he circles it expertly.

Soon his fingers join in. Along with his tongue and lips, he brings your climax closer and closer. A needy groan escaped his lips and reverberated through your core when you pulled on his hair, knowing that he absolutely loves it.

“L-Loki, i’m not… gonna-” You attempt to warn him among wanton moans, “I’m not gonna last.”

He stops his oral motions and continues to circle your clit with his skilled fingers, “So soon? How desperate were you for me all day?”

“S-so desperate, my king.” You moan out his ego boosting nickname.

“And you expect your king to grant you mercy tonight? After you treated him so poorly?” He teases, recalling your earlier interaction that you still felt guilty about.

“I’m sorry, Loki… AGH!” You squeal as two of his fingers dip inside of your entrance.

“Ohh~ I know sweet thing. I’ll accept your apology if you cum on my fingers right now. Show me how much you need me.” He encourages you with a seductive growl.

With a desperate yet worshiping scream of his name that faded into the salt air, you came around his talented fingers. He pumped them slowly, working you gently through your high as his eyes remained trained on your bliss ridden face. You grabbed his wrist as you became overstimulated. He withdrew and leaned down to kiss your panting lips.

“You did so well darling.” He mumbles against the soft skin of your lips. His hand ran up and down the skin of your trembling thigh.

You smiled, finally opening your eyes that were once screwed shut to meet his. Your hands cupped his beautiful face before running down his neck to his pale chest. You sat up, using your momentum to push him so that he laid on his back against the towel. Your legs rested on either side of his hips as your lips began to explore downwards from his neck.

“I’m afraid…” You speak against his skin before raising your head to look him in the eye, “Just an apology won’t suffice.” The tip of your finger ran down his abdominal muscles to his happy trail and eventually the base of his throbbing cock.

“I can assure you it will. However, you do as you see fit to show how sorry you are.” He smirks in hidden excitement for what you are about to do.

“Oh, I will.” Your mouth makes its way down his torso to meet your hand at his member.

In your oral apology, you still can’t help but tease him. His desperate whines were music to your ears as you placed light kisses on his leaking tip and down his shaft. His strong hand held your hair like the true gentleman he was. You even swore you heard him mutter a soft “please”.

Deciding that you were already too mean to him earlier today, you open your mouth to take his length. As you told the girls earlier, he was huge, you doubted that you could completely take him down your throat. Your hand massaged his base, moving downwards to play with his balls which caused his breath to hitch in his throat. This was your first time going down on him, and you were gonna make sure he would never forget it.

Your tongue lapped around his head before moving down further on his shaft. Your eyes looked up at him to find his head completely thrown back in pleasure. Happy with his reaction, you took half of his cock into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you began to suck ever so slightly. Your hand continued to stroke what you assumed you couldn’t reach. Loki’s hand moved in tandem with your bobbing movements.

“Fuck darling- that’s perfect.” He moaned, encouraging your movements. His hips raised in desperation to push his cock further into your mouth. Bracing yourself on his thighs, you allowed him to do so. You relaxed your throat to take as much of him as you could. Unfortunately, gagging was inevitable and you felt the need to come up for air. Loki must have sensed this as he spoke, “Through your nose, darling. Breathe.” He spoke like he was the one with a dick down his throat right now.

Nevertheless, you took his advice and took a deep breath through your nostrils before Loki motioned for you to move your head again. For a few more seconds, you did as he asked before he moaned loudly and pushed you off.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask breathlessly, cautiously.

Loki smiles beneath you, his hand raised to cup your cheek, “Of course not sweet girl. You were amazing, I just wanted to cum inside that pretty little cunt. If I may, of course.”

You beam with pride at his praise, “Of course. I just haven’t done that excessively before.” You confess. It was true, you were never interested in going down on any of your male partners before, only doing it if you were comfortable, which was rarely. Loki was different, however, he deserved every touch and every ounce of praise. For the first time in your life, you actually enjoyed giving a blowjob.

“Don’t grow tired of it now, love. We have four more vacation days ahead of us, and many, many more after that.” He smirks briefly before you lean down to place a kiss on his boastful lips.

Your wet folds outline his cock against his stomach as you grind your hips against his. The kiss became deeper as his tongue slipped into your mouth. His hands grasped your hips, guiding their movements against him.

“No more teasing today, please.” He begs, much to your surprise.

“Aww, were you desperate for me too, mischief?” You rock your hips back, catching the tip of his cock.

“Always, darling.”

Happy with his answer, you slide down onto his twitching length. Both of you gasped in unison as you sat there for a few seconds. In his desperation, Loki began to thrust his hips upwards. Even beneath you, he still craved control. You moved in rhythm with him as you bounced on his cock. Your hands balanced you on his chest as his made their way up to your breasts that were bouncing hypnotically above him.

“Loki- fuck… You feel so good inside me.” You moan out, barely thinking before you speak.

“Good girl, keep riding me, just like that.” His words cause you to clench around his cock.

Swiftly, Loki sat up, using one arm behind him to support his body as his other arm wrapped around your waist. He could be closer to you in this position, kiss you better, fuck you better. Your fingernails dug into his broad shoulders as his hips moved like the waves behind you. His mouth found the crook of your neck, after the first gentle bite, you knew there would be more marks. And now, you were ready for payback.

Moving your hips in more of a grinding motion so that your clit would be stimulated by his pubic bone and hair, you moved your head, pushing him away slightly before you latched onto him. It was time for the god to wear a mark or two of his own. So that everyone knew that he was yours.

“Oh, you minx.” He groaned, knowing full well what you were doing.

You couldn’t keep up your confident, teasing persona for long before you started whining and moaning into the skin of his shoulder. His hips moved faster and his fingers found your clit, making you a shaking mess on top of him.

“Loki! I’m gonna cum-” You warn him, wrapping your arms around his neck so that you could be as close to him as possible.

“I know darling, cum with me.” He whispers into your ear.

You don’t hold back your body or voice as you shake on top of him as he triggers your orgasm. Loud moans and pleas in the form of the god’s name left your lips as you came. Loki follows right behind you, holding you tight as he finds release deep inside your pussy as it flutters around him.

Both of you stay like that for a second, taking in every breath in the blissful moment. Loki can feel wetness where your face is resting on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asks, making sure that you were crying tears of pleasure and nothing else.

You pull back to kiss him softly, your fingers toying with the definition of his cheekbones. When you pull away, his hands come up to wipe your tears from your flushed cheeks.

“Never better.” You reassure him before wrapping your arms around him once again.

“Good girl.” He mutters before laying back down on the towel with you on top of him, he heard you let out a soft whine as he removed his softening cock from your spent channel.

After he cleans you both up with his magic, you both lie there, still naked as you found comfort in the skin to skin contact. You laid next to him with your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you both looked at the stars in post coital bliss.

Eventually, you drifted off. Not worrying about your location or bareness at the moment. You trusted Loki and knew that he would never allow you to be found and exposed like this. You left your whole being in his hands as he held you close.

“I love you.” You heard him mumble in your state of light sleep.

“Love you too.” You barely speak out in your drowsy state. You would never deny him the reassurance that you loved him back. If you could, you would remind him every second for the rest of his life.

It was there, on a secluded beach within an unfamiliar island, in the arms of your lover, you found your home.

—

Tags: @buttercupcookies-blog @muddyorbs @divinemoonlight31

(Let me know if you want to be added for future smuttiness!)

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teliphone · 6 months ago

Text

Corrupt Desire

Summary: You’re an FBI agent who successfully captured the deadliest hitman, Rio Vidal. You hate to admit you have fallen in love with the criminal. Rio's psychotic games rope you back into her life. Just as she calculated, you can’t help but fall to your knees for her. Her beauty and sinister mind make her too irresistible.

Warning(s): Smut, Oral, Fingering, Manipulation.

Word Count: 5.9k

“Put your bag in the bin please,” The security guard orders from the side. You take your large bag off your shoulders and place it into the bin. The guard slides it past the metal scanner and gestures to you to step forward. Before you can grab your bag, a female guard stops you. She snaps on light-blue latex gloves as she looks at your figure up and down with a stern face.

“I have to search your body for any weapons or illegal substances,” She explains. You shyly smile and nod your head. A body search is a requirement when entering through this specific prison. She walks over til she is face to face with you. Her blue eyes stare briefly into yours, causing you to glance at the ceiling. She starts to run her fingers along your arms. Then you feel her slide down your hips to your thighs. Her fingers tug around the inside of your waistband. Lastly, she quickly slides along your core area. You feel a small blush appear out of embarrassment.

“You’re clear,” She reports. You quietly thank her and straighten yourself to grab your bag. She nods her head and tosses the gloves into the trash. She disappears behind the security door. You reach into the bag and shuffle around to find your ID card. You press the card against the glass and the front desk security writes your information down. The gates buzz and unlock. You tighten your grip on your bag and hesitate to step ahead. Before you can proceed, gates swing open and a man with a gray beard walks out. Judging by his badge you could tell he is the head warden of the prison. His button-up shirt is wrinkled with an obvious coffee stain around the stomach area. You avert your eyes up to his face to avoid staring.

“You must be the FBI agent coming to interview Rio Vidal,” He assumes while rubbing his belly. You feel your stomach turn at the mention of her.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you,” You greet with a smile. You bring out a hand to shake, but he looks away too soon. You stare at your awkward hand with an embarrassing blush before placing it back on your side. He starts walking down the halls while explaining to you about the interview you were about to conduct. You quicken your steps to catch up with him. You glance around the hall, examining how everything is locked up and secured. It is also eerie quiet.

“-Rio refuses to speak with anyone but you,” He informs, bringing your attention back to him. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why?” You question. He lets out a dry chuckle as if you just asked a silly obvious question. He doesn’t respond which makes you want the world to swallow you full. He leads you to another gate, a step closer to where the prisoners are stationed. He stops walking and presses his key card on a scanner. The gate buzzes and clicks open again. He opens the gate for you and gestures to you through. As you walk in, you take a peek through a random room and accidentally make eye contact with an inmate. Tattoos coated his whole skin and his dark eyes are calculated. He is getting checked up by a police officer. The inmate tilts his head slowly and smirks. He looks at you hungrily and jerks his hand up and down in a provocative gesture. The officer snaps his finger in front of the inmate and yells at him to focus. You quickly look away and grimace in disgust.

“Sorry about that. Most inmates here have been locked up for ages… they tend to get hot pants,’ He laughs, ‘We get the most dangerous criminals in our facility. Our security is more uptight. It’s hard to do anything around here… if you know what I mean.”

He lets out another chuckle, proud of his humor. You give him a nervous forced laugh. Thankfully he buys it and continues showing you the way.

“About Rio… you mentioned she refuses to talk to anyone?” You bring her back into the topic. The reason why you’re here in the first place.

“Correct. Many officers and detectives have been trying to get her to speak. All she says is to bring you,” He answers. You nibble your bottom lip and feel anxiety creeping up. It was one simple reason: you were the one who got her caught and arrested.

“How… has she been?” You ask.

“She’s quiet and lonely. No one dares to talk to ‘lady of death’.” He chuckles at the nickname that has spread throughout the prison. You look down at the floor. You clench your hands around the strap of your bag and shake your head. No, you shouldn’t feel bad. She’s a criminal.

Before you know it, you have finally reached a room with a gate. It’s guarded by two guards with a rifle attached to their bodies. They stand with their heads lifted high. Their faces lack emotion. You have never seen someone guarding a door with guns that big. You wonder if that was necessary. The Warden notices your staring.

“We need to take great precautions with Rio,” He explains. He unlocks the gate and you peek inside. There is a simple table with two chairs placed on opposite sides. There is nothing much else in the room, to limit any harm that could be done. You tug your bag closer to your body.

“You don’t need to worry. There will be a guard inside the room with you. We will be watching in a room next door with the cameras we placed,” He assures. You weren’t necessarily nervous about getting harmed. You were anxious about seeing her. Nevertheless, you squeeze a smile at him and start walking into the room. You notice the installed camera in the top left corner. A camera that doesn’t voice record and only visually records. You take a seat furthest from the door. You place your bag down and pull out a file, notepad, and a pen. You place your hands on top of the notepad and start playing with your fingers. The waiting game is eating you up, making you more nervous than ever. You self-cautiously brush your hair to make yourself look decent and press your lips together to try and get some color in it. It has been a long time since you have last seen her. You stop your movement and drop your shoulders. You feel guilty thinking about the past. Guilty about the things you did to her.

You were placed on a top-secret case by your FBI team. Rio Vidal is the deadliest hitman. The mission was simple: Get close to Rio and get her to let her guard down so she can be captured. The only reason why you were chosen is because Rio has a history of being with younger women. You didn’t realize how much she trusted you until the doors of her apartment were getting kicked down. She quickly rushed to shield you. You feel your heart crack in guilt. Officers full of gear rushed in and pulled you away from her while the other half grabbed her. She thrashed against their hold. You yell at the officers to be more gentle on her as she is being shoved onto the ground to be handcuffed. Your FBI partner walked over and gave you a pat on the back. Usually, you would be happy, but in this case, you couldn’t. When Rio looked at you, you could see the realization sink in. It was a slight movement, but you saw it. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes expressed hurt. Just as quickly as you saw it, as fast it disappeared. She replaced it with a cold-hearted smile. You tense up and freeze. That’s the last sight you saw of her.

You see a body appear behind the gate. The bright color orange catches your eyes first. You feel your heart stop pounding. There is Rio Vidal in the orange prison uniform. She stares at you with an unexplainable expression. You nervously gulp. The gate swings open and the guards push her to take a step. She stumbles a little. Her hands are cuffed with loose chains around her ankle. The metal chain sounds loud in the quiet room. The guards shove her into the seat and she lets out a soft grunt. You flinch at their actions. You believe they didn’t have to be that aggressive with her. They turn around and start to leave.

“Excuse me,” Rio speaks up. Her voice sounds deeper and raspier than you remembered. The guards stop in their tracks and look over. She brings her handcuffed hands up and waves them.

“How can I have a pleasant time with my date if I’m cuffed?” She smiles. You feel your cheeks warm up. They look at you for permission in which you nod your head. You trust she won’t do anything. Rio smirks and brings her hand to the guards. She watches closely as they take out a key and start unlocking her handcuffs and chains. She slowly rolls her free wrists and hums in delight. The deep sound from her throat makes you gulp. Finally, one guard leaves while one remains in the room near the door. Rio turns her body fully to face you. You take note of her features. Prison hasn’t been gentle to her. Her eyes look tired and wrinkles are starting to form. But even with that, you couldn’t deny the attractiveness that she holds. She tilts her head up as she examines you as well. She bites her lower lip to try and conceal her excitement.

“I missed you,” She confesses. You avert your eyes to the guard and back to her. You feel embarrassed to have someone else hear a criminal flirting with you. She narrows her eyes and shakes her head.

“If you can’t keep your attention on me. I want him out of the room,” She demands. You widen your eyes.

“That is unnecessary,” You explain.

“If you don’t get him out of the room. I refuse to talk,” She says. You furrow your eyebrows at her. She shrugs her shoulders and leans back onto the chair. She playfully looks around the room to keep herself entertained.

“Rio…” You try getting her attention. She ignores you. You let out a sigh. This is no good. You need to get the job done. You look at the guard and gesture at him to leave. He hesitates at first but decides to listen. Rio’s lips curl into a smile when she hears the gate behind her close. She places her hands on the table and leans forward. An attempt to close the distance. You lean back, but the chair limits you.

“Finally. Just you and me,” She grins. You let out a shaky breath. Your eyes flicker down to her lips in a second, but she catches it. Your hand slides to grab a pen. You click it and place it against the notepad.

“I am here to talk to you about the victims you killed-“

“Did you miss me?” She cuts. She smiles innocently. Her eyes are wide like a doe, except you know she is far from innocent. The woman in front of you is sinister and well-calculated.

“Rio, that is inappropriate to ask,” You warn, fidgeting with the pen. She ignores you and continues talking while playfully tapping her fingertips against the table surface.

“You came sooner than I expected. Couldn’t resist seeing me?” She teases. You accidentally grip the pen harder til your knuckles turn white.

“I am here for my job. Not for you,” You snap. She widens her eyes as she smiles, trying to act offended.

“Will you look at that? You seem to have grown into your big boy pants,” She snickers. You were about to snap back til you narrowed your eyes at her. Her lips start to twitch.

You know what she was doing. She was trying to rail you up and observe if she can still control your emotions. You knew she was secretly obsessed with dominance. You’ve seen it sparkle in her eyes when you fall into her schemes. She had made you go against your morals and unknowingly act like a puppet on a string.

“I am not going to play your games this time,” You grumble.

“Oh sweetie… you’ve already stepped into my playground,” She whispers. Chills run down your spine, but you try your best to ignore her. You slide a photo of one of her victims in front of her. You point your finger at it.

“Tell me why you decided to kill this man,” You order. She tilts her chin down to look at the victim. She fakes a yawn and shrugs her shoulders.

“He deserved it,” She sighs in boredom. You slide another photo to be side by side.

“How about him?”

“Same thing,”

“Him?” You add another photo. She gives the photo a quick glance, not even trying to fully look.

“I didn’t kill him,” She addresses. She brings up her short fingernails to inspect. She notices a little dirt and focuses on digging it out. You let out a disbelief sigh, feeling your frustration building.

“Yes, you did,” You remind her slowly. She lifts her head in amused shock. She leans her head to take a good look at the photo. Her eyes scan the face and then light up.

“Oh! Yes, yes I remember him now. I must have forgotten,’ she giggles, ‘Men look and act too alike.’ You quickly jot it down. You already knew this about her, but it is a small start.

“So all these men have the same characteristic,” You repeat. She groans and rests her chin on her hand.

“Yes, isn’t it obvious?” She mumbles.

“I just need a clarification-“ She cuts you off by saying your name. The way your name rolls off her tongue sends a chill down your spine. It’s the dominating tone she loves to use. You immediately stop talking. You peek up at her between your lashes. She licks her bottom lip and dramatically waves her hand.

“I’ve been waiting for so long to see you and all you’re talking about is some foolish men?!” She fake cries. She pauses between her amusement to think. You furrow your eyebrows at her random action. Suddenly she brings her hand out to touch yours. Her rough fingertips rub the softness of your skin. Your mind storms with thoughts. You fight against yourself from enjoying her touch. Your breathing shakes. The corner of her lips curl into a smile when she realizes your inner struggle. Reality kicks in and you jerk your hand away. Your eyes dart to the camera. There are people on the other side watching. You didn't want them to see. She narrows her eyes and smiles daringly. She can tell you’re worried about the camera. You glare at her, ignoring the pounding of your heart. She pouts and returns her hand to her side. Your tense body starts to relax as you see her lean away. You thought it was the end of her playfulness, but it was just the beginning.

“They can’t hear us,” She whispers. Suddenly you feel her foot dragging up your calves slowly. You widen your eyes at her to try and stop her. But that was pointless. You self cautiously nibble your bottom lip to ignore the build-up in your lower stomach. You dry swallow and force yourself to look normal. Her eyes darken when she realizes you’re not pulling away. She figures that underneath the table away from view is where she can mess around.

“I’ve been lonely here,” She sighs, drawing small circles with her fingers on the table. You couldn’t speak as if she cast a spell on you. She drags her foot higher, touching the inner side of your knee. You let out a soft hick in your breath. Your cheeks start to feel warm.

“Rio,” You warn vocally. She points a finger at you in a taunting way.

“Let me ask you questions,” She glares. You couldn’t believe how easy it was for her to switch roles. You feel your jaw clench. Why are you so weak around her? It was as if you were the one in handcuffs.

“Did someone touch you while I’m in here?” She challenges. She asks in a joking tone, but you know better. You keep your face stone cold and refuse to talk. Her smile slowly drops.

She misread you.

She starts laughing like a maniac with her head tilted back which exposes her bare neck. Within a second she slams her fist onto the table. Your heart skips a beat in fear. Her face darkens and she clenches her jaw. The guard pounds onto the gate as a warning.

“Who was it?” She commands. How dare she accuse you of such action. You lean close to her face. Her eyes waver at your presence, secretly enjoying your closeness. She nearly leans in, but she composes herself.

“I am nothing like you,” You grimace. Your expression was laced with disgust.

“Oh, but you are… admit it,” She taunts. You break eye contact to look down. The room is starting to get stuffy. You shift in your seat uncomfortable.

Rio knew this little part of you the moment she laid eyes on you. You were too infatuated with her crimes. You were never scared around her. You wanted to understand, but the lines between investigation and interest started to blur. You enjoy the chaos that Rio brings… and you hate that. You wanted to just be a normal FBI agent, but everyone else around you is too simple-minded. You needed a spark in which Rio satisfies.

A nudge of her foot brings you back. Before you can react, she leans her body across the table to invade your space. She inhales your scent and sighs in pleasure. She misses you so much she couldn’t believe how long she was able to last without you. She tilts her head til her lips reach your ears.

“You feel sick that you love me,” She whispers. Your heart slams against your chest.

She caught you. The real truth.

You shove yourself away from the table. The chair squeaks awfully against the floor. Photos and papers flutter around and drop. Rio lets out a sickening cackle during the chaos. The guards barge through the gate and rush in. She puts her hand up in surrender. They roughly pull her arms back to handcuff her. She grunts in pain as they manhandle her. The warden rushes to your side to check up on you.

“Are you alright?” He worries. You place a hand on your racing heart and dry swallow. You glance over to see Rio being dragged out of the room. She tries to give you one last look, but the guards tug her.

“I am fine,” You reply, brushing your clothes in an attempt to collect yourself. You shakingly grab your bag. You give him a forceful smile before walking out. As you walk down the long hallway you place a hand on your forehead as a headache kicks in.

You slam your hands against the metal table. The tight handcuffs around your wrist are starting to hurt. The detective in front of you rarely budges. Her gray suit hugs her curves well. She points at the bank blueprint.

“Tell me how you planned the heist,” She orders.

“I didn’t do it!” You argue. She narrows her eyes and leans back into the chair. She tries to read you deeper. You didn’t understand how you got into this position. The detectives are accusing you of a bank heist on which you truly had no time to do. You’ve asked for your FBI team, but the police station refuses to allow you to talk to others.

“Then explain to me why the robbers knew your name and address. They told us that you were the one who hired them,” She argues. She slams more photos onto the table. Evidence that shows purchasing receipts under your name and many more. You shake your head in shock and confusion. All of this does not make sense. You look up at her with pleading eyes.

“Please let my FBI team handle this case. It wasn’t me,” You cry. It was a setup, but from who? There are plenty of people who are against you due to your label. The detective shakes her head and starts collecting the papers. She stands up and tugs her suit.

“If you’re not going to cooperate with me. We’ll find another day to discuss. Have fun being locked up for the time being,” She states as she struts away. You tug on the handcuffs and cry out to her. Begging her to let you go and that all of this was a setup. You didn’t care how the metal was digging into your skin. You were innocent. The door shuts, leaving you behind to sob alone in the empty room.

You watch outside the window of the large van carrying other prisoners. Each woman has a different background and crime. You squeeze yourself the furthest away from everyone. You didn’t belong here. The van slows down in front of the prison you were at not long ago. An officer slides the van door open and orders everyone to get out. You helplessly follow along with everyone else. Getting out was a little hard due to the limitations of the handcuffs. The new set of inmates walk in a line to the first room. Everyone is ordered to strip to shower, do a full body search, and then given an orange suit. An officer starts directing everyone to a specific section of the prison when another officer stops you.

“You. Come with me,” He orders. The other inmates look at you curiously but don’t dare to speak. They start taking a step away from you. You shake your head no, anxiety creeping up.

“Why?” You squeak.

He clenches your shoulders and drags you away from the inmates you came in with. You thrash against him til you eventually stop. He tugs you along without saying anything else. You anxiously look around to try and understand where he was bringing you. You notice he was bringing you deeper into the prison. The area begins to be more dark and eerie. You pass by many prison cells. Each is filled with women gawking at you like predators. A few of them whistled and laughed. You’re starting to realize this section of the prison is different from the one you were previously assigned to.

“W-where are you taking me,” You ask. You try to stop walking, but he continues to push you along. After a few more minutes he stops in front of a prison cell.

“This is your cell from now on,” He finally speaks up. He removes his hand from your shoulders. You immediately start rubbing the side of your shoulder to ease the gripping pain. He takes out a chain of keys and starts to unlock the cell. The gate swings open and you notice a woman with her back facing you already in it. Your cell partner. You take a step forward to go in, but then quickly stop. The woman in the cell turns around with a sinister smile.

“Hello, my love,” Rio purrs. Your blood runs cold. You turn and attempt to run, but the officer grabs your body. You fight against him as much as you can. He grunts at the amount of force you're putting out.

“You can’t put me in here!” You cry out. He pushes you into the cell and slams the gate shut before you can escape. You put your hands out to try and grab him. He quickly slips away and walks down the hallway, ignoring your begging. He disappears and your sobbing quiets down. You clench onto the cold metal gate. It was no use. Shaking, you turn around to face her. She stands at a good distance with a calm expression.

“Are you done?” She asks. You glare at her venomously. She chuckles, her eyes twinkling. She brings her fingers up to her lips and rubs her bottom.

“Just you and me again,” She smiles.

“Don’t touch me,” You warn. She looks at you offended and points at herself. She shakes her head no slowly.

“You have no authority to order me around anymore. We are both here wearing orange suits-“

“I don’t belong here. It was a mistake,” You huff. She starts laughing a little hard while holding her stomach. She collects herself by letting out one small chuckle. She immediately stops and playfully narrows her eyes at you. She takes a teasing step towards you. You try taking a step back, but the gate traps you.

“I know it was a mistake,” She starts. Your fearful face starts to drop. Your mind racing with the words she just spoke.

“I mean… look at you. You wouldn’t even hurt a fly,” She whispers. Once she is in front of you she brings her hands up to your chin, slightly gripping it. She looks lovingly into your eyes.

“I did this to you,” She whispers a confession. You try to shove her back, but she resists. You’ve lost all your strength from earlier. She grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the gate. She gently pulls you deeper into the room and wraps your hand around her shoulders. She then places her hands around your waist and pulls you close.

“It was easy really. Planning and planting your name in the heist. It was like playing chess,” She whispers. Her breath tickles your ears. She starts swaying her body, forcing you to follow along. A slow dance as she inhales your hair.

“You manipulating freak,” You choke out. She lets out a soft hum. Her fingers draw slow circles around your hip.

“You caused this,” She claims. You close your eyes and clench your jaw.

“I only have a few more days with you till your silly team takes you away from me,” She sighs, pulling away from the hug. She cups the side of your face with her hands. Her eyes are dilated with need. She leans her face to kiss you, but you turn your head to the side. Your heart has a mind of its own. It is pounding loudly.

“Don’t do that,” She frowns. She takes your hand to place it on her chest. You can feel the fast beats of her heart underneath your fingers. A blush appears on your cheeks. She truly does feel for you.

“I’ve been good. I waited for you,” She begs for approval. You turn your face to glare at her again. You were not willing to let your walls down.

“It was my job to seduce you, what do you not understand?” You snap. She shakes her head in denial. Her pupils are black like the void. You could get lost in them.

“But you fell in love during the act,” She argues. She wants you to admit the truth. She wants you to stop lying to yourself. Your eyes start to water in anger, confusion, and denial.

“That’s… not true,” You try to sound truthful.

“Do you really not feel anything when I do this?” She asks before softly pressing her plump lips against yours. You clench your fist as she barely deepens the kiss. She gently pulls away to examine your reaction. You let out a shaky breath, chest pumping up and down. She’s a genius body reader. You knew you couldn’t lie anymore.

“You’re a criminal… I shouldn’t think this way,” You reject her. You feel your eyes starting to tear up. Your inner struggle is resurfacing. She rubs her thumb against your bottom lip. Her eyes fill with love.

“Don’t think… feel,” She whispers before kissing you again. Your mind threatens to come up with lies until you decide to feel. Just like what she said. She’s a psychopath, her moves are always calculated.. but god you love that so much. Even if this is part of her plan to get you to break, you will give in. You love her sick mind. No one else can think the way she does.

You kiss back with caution. You shamefully believe a small kiss wouldn’t mean anything. She hums between the shared kiss and it stirs something in you. You wanted to hear it again. You press into the kiss with more passion. Your mouth opens to slide your tongue into her mouth. The feeling of need bursts through your body after being kept hidden. Her tongue touches against yours. She smiles between the kisses as she moans again. She knew she successfully broke you again. You were hers and she never felt happier. She never felt this amount of satisfaction when killing men. No, only you were the one to evoke this feeling in her.

“Kneel,” She demands as she pulls away from the kiss. Your lips are wet, red, and slightly swollen. You try to kiss her again, but she places her hand on your head. She chuckles a little as she pats your head to go down. You look at her with worried eyes, but she gently assures you. You eventually obey her and start to kneel on the cement floor. The ground is rough on your knees. You rub your hands on her thighs before looping your fingers at her waistline. You tug and help her get her pants and panties off. You lick your lips as you stare at her core. She spreads her legs and gently tugs your head to come closer. Her scent clouds your thoughts.

“Reward me. I’ve been waiting so long,” She begs. You have never heard her this needy before. You give her inner thighs kisses before you split her folds with your fingers. You stick out your wet tongue and slowly lick her clit. She sighs and rubs her fingers through your hair. Your tongue continues to circle her clit so that you can get her more wet. You give her clit a few sucks which causes her to groan softly. She licks her lips and grips your head harder. Your tongue drags along her slit and back up to her clit. Her juice is starting to leak out more. You hum in satisfaction as your saliva mixes in with her silky juice. Your tongue pushes into her core to collect more. You go back to her clit to lick and suck harder and faster. She rolls her hips into your mouth. You look up to see her cheeks red. Her mouth slightly opens and her lower exposed stomach flexes. You roll your tongue harshly against her clit and she moans.

“Fuck… I miss this,” She breathes. She puts two hands on your head and pushes you into her. She uses your head to please herself at the pace she wants. You close your eyes and stick out your tongue to make yourself a use for her. Her hips thrusting into your mouth becomes more harsh. Her liquid starts to spread all over your lips and chin. She moans a little louder, causing you to tap her thighs to warn her to stay more quiet.

“Your mouth feels too good,” She grunts. You grip her thighs to keep her still as you suck and lick hard. She rolls her head back and moans. Her face expresses ecstasy and pleasure. Her eyebrows are furrowed and her mouth opens to whimper and moan. She looks so good like this. Your cunt clenches painfully at nothing.

“Keep going, I'm close,” She hums. She grabs your hair hard, almost making you cry out. Her juice is rolling down your chin. Her moan starts becoming high-pitched, indicating how much closer she is. You bring your middle and ring finger up. You easily push it into her wet pulsing core. You pull your fingers in and out quickly, before curling and pressing into her walls. You don’t lose focus of your pace. She brings one hand up to cover her mouth from moaning too loud. Her thighs start to shake uncontrollably. She reaches her high and eases herself out by jerking her hips into your mouth. She cusses and moans while gently patting your head. Once she finishes, she tugs your head away from her wet core. Your lower face is covered in her sweet juice. Her chest moves up and down as she catches her breath. She smiles sweetly at you, still kneeling, waiting for her orders.

“Come here,” She says. You stumble a little getting up from the hard ground. You take off the orange suit. The cold prison air prickles your skin. She pulls you into another passionate kiss. Her finger starts playing with your core, causing you to moan into her mouth. Your cunt is already wet from pleasing her. She easily collects your silk with her middle finger to mess with your clit. You were louder than her, causing her to shut you up with kisses. She doesn’t go slow, she rubs quickly and ruthlessly. You gasp and grip onto her shoulders.

“You wanted this,” She chuckles.

“Y-yes,” You pant. She shoves her long middle finger into you. She finds it coming in and out too easily. She decided to add in her ring finger. She wants to feel your walls squeeze around her digits. You feel the air in your lungs getting shut off for a moment. The stretch feels so good. You jerk your hips into her hands.

“Stay still,” She orders, spreading your legs more. She leans her face back to kiss you as she thrusts her hands into you harder causing your legs to shake. You let out a loud moan which makes her stop. She leans back and glares at you. You were too loud. She takes her other hand to grip your face. Her face is stern.

“Keep quiet or else the guards will remove you,” She warns. You quickly nod your head while licking your lips. It might be a hard task, but you’re not willing to risk it.

She releases her grip from your face. She places her hand over your mouth to shut it. She returns to adding a third finger in without warning. You sob into her hands. Your stomach clenches in pain and pleasure. The wet sounds of her fingers thrusting into your core are embarrassingly loud. She loves it so much. If she couldn’t hear your screams at least she can hear this. Your silk is running down her knuckles, making a mess. She leans her lips to your ears and whispers praises.

“You’re such a good dirty girl for me,” She purrs. You clench around her digits and shut your eyes. You cuss into her hands. Your legs start to shake and you feel yourself getting close. She hungrily craves your orgasm. She keeps her fast and harsh pace, causing you to hold onto her or else you will fall. You moan and whimper into her palm. She can feel you getting close. She knows your body too well.

“Come for me baby,” She licks the shell of your ears. With a few more harsh thrusts, your breathing stops as you release yourself to her. She continues fingering you through your orgasm. Your liquid rolls down your thighs. She removes her other hand from your lips and you gasp for air. She gently pulls her three fingers out of you. Your core is still pulsing. She shushes you and kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then to your lips. You try your best to kiss her back as you still feel lightheaded. You pull away, holding her face close to yours.

“I love you,” You weakly confess. You allow yourself to feel. You didn’t care if everyone was going to judge you. She pauses in awe. She couldn’t believe it at first, but your words finally reached into her heart. She engulfs you in a hug. You can feel the vibration from her laughter. The sound echoes down the hallway. The guards and inmates furrow their eyebrows. The first time they hear the ‘lady of death’ in pure happiness.

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a-spes · 15 days ago

Note

Hi! If you’re taking fic requests, may I request a story with fem!nerd reader whose a loner, paired with popular Wanda, Natasha, or both?

Their friends challenge them to a bet, daring them to make the reader fall for them. As time goes on, they unexpectedly develop real feelings for her. However, on the day the reader confesses to both of them, she discovers the truth, that it was all just a bet, while their friends are present. Reader distances herself, but Wanda and Natasha do everything they can to win her back. Angst and fluff please!

Of course, you don’t have to write this if you’re not comfortable, but thank you regardless! ☺️

A Penny for your Love. (W. M. x N. R. x R.) — Part one. (5.006 words.)

| Tags & Warning — Popular!Natasha Romanoff x Popular!Wanda Maximoff x Looser!Reader. University alternative universe, social anxiety, loneliness, spiralling thoughts, alcohol consumption (just a bit), insecurities (a lot, not gonna lie), cheating (not really), lies, manipulation (or at least not being honest), fluff, angst (a bit).

| A/N — my draft was very (very) long so there will be two parts (or maybe three, i will see). i hope you will enjoy this first part even if it is coming a bit late!

| MAIN MASTERLIST - REQUEST GUIDELINES. — next part.

You were sure that no one would notice if you were not here.

And this statement was not the result of dark thoughts, it was a fact. A conclusion so simple that the realization had been agonizing — how did you not realize this sooner? You always knew you were not outstanding, but you never thought you were so.. disposable.

People do not know your name, and those who see you every day barely remember your face. Yet, it has been almost three years. And even though you knew you could not blame them — how could you? You had never exchanged more than a few words with them — the heaviness this fact had placed on your chest was impossible to shake off.

It was your fault.

You were the one who put yourself in this situation. You were the only one who could be blamed for it and, at the same time, the only one who could get you out of it. But the realization came too late, you kept repeating yourself, at that time, the friendships were already made, and you were sure no one would need — or want — a new one.

You were sure no one was as lonely as you were.

But that was nothing more than an excuse, a reason not to even try, because the truth was that you didn’t feel up to the task. It should be easy, to exchange a few words with the people you saw every day, for more than two years, but it was not.

Every time you looked at them, you felt your insides knot up. Every time you thought of exchanging a few words with them, you were petrified, not to mention the few times life had forced you to do so. You had uttered a few words whose syllables had become jumbled, your voice trembling as you were saying the words you would regret for the next few years.

It is no surprise that you did not make any friends.

You are a mess.

The voice in your head whispers the same thing again, and again, until you can’t do anything but believe its poisonous words. Your fists clenched until your fingernails leave crescent-shaped marks in your palm, you try to push these thoughts away but, deep down, you know.

There is some truth in these words.

It was no coincidence that every one of your attempts at making friends had failed, and not just at university. It has always been that way. The loneliness and the yearning to be a part of their world, two feelings that had been tearing you apart since a very young age.

But you were used to it by now, even enjoying the loneliness sometimes — It has its advantages. These were also words you kept repeating in a pitiful attempt to comfort yourself, more lies. I do not care, you were saying through gritted teeth but, as you were watching them, you could not ignore the jealousy that was creeping up.

And even though you should not, in these moments, you didn’t want anything more than being one of them. You wanted to be the one who laughs at the jokes one of her friends just told her, even if it was lame. To be the one who didn’t have time to finish her meal because she spent the lunch break chatting. The one who was courageous enough to speak up in class, ask the questions that bloom in her mind and give the answers, even when they were wrong. The one who would not have to worry about the group projects because she would already know who she was going to be with, their eyes meeting before the instructions were even given because it was just as obvious as the color of the sky that they would be a group.

You yearned to be one of those that were brave enough to live, to exist.

But no matter how much you wanted it, you had never managed to get it. The invisible wall that separated you from them was far too thick to be broken that easily, and so you stayed there, watching them from the other side of what seemed to be a one-way mirror — You could see them, but they were unaware of your existence.

And because wanting something was not enough to get it, you never managed to do more than touch your dreams with your fingertips. For every step you took forward, you felt like you were making three back afterwards.

You were not getting closer to your dream.

You were moving away from it, drawing in your own mess.

The few times you had had the impression of being a part of their world had only been illusions that never lasted long. It was nothing more than fragments of what it could be.

And you wanted more than that.

More than snatches, what you really wanted was a permanent spot in this sweet universe that was theirs. A place where solitude would not be a constraint, but a choice, and yours. Not one that was made by others because they did not deem you worthy of their time.

But life is not a fairy tale. It is cruel, harsh, and the reality catches up with you faster than you would like when your language teacher announces a group project — In pairs.

You do not even look at your classmates, preferring to avoid their gaze by pretending you are writing something on your notebook — you are not, you are just scribbling circles. But the motion helps you to think about how you are going to formulate your request. This teacher is a bit of a boor, you thought, so there is little chance of her agreeing to you doing this project on your own but maybe, maybe with the right words you could change her mind.

The course is continuing, but you are not listening anymore, unable to think about anything other than this stupid assignment, than the conversation you will have at the end of the course. Your breathing has quickened, your hands have become clammy, but even though you keep telling yourself that everything is okay, you can’t calm down. At least not enough to be able to concentrate on the class. The teacher’s words seem far away, and they do not really reach you, as if cotton had been put in your ears.

It is a tap on the shoulder that eventually pulls you out of your thoughts, preventing you from falling further down the rabbit hole into which this whole story was dragging you in. When you turn your head, your eyes land on a pretty redhead — Natasha Romanoff. She is not in your class, being a bit older, so you do not see her much outside the language classes.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she murmured, and you must have looked surprised — perhaps even frightened — because she immediately moved her hand back in a gesture of appeasement. “I wanted to know if you would like to pair up with me?” She said, and you could not help but notice how soft her voice sounded as she was asking you to be her partner for the second time, the words not having reached your ears the first.

“What?” You replied without thinking, but maybe you should have, it would have prevented you from saying the stupidest thing you could have. The instant the question escapes you, you bite your lip — she must think you are a complete idiot now, well done, you thought.

“For the group project,” she clarified, “would you like to work with me? If you are not already with someone else, of course,” she said, but it was only to sound polite. Despite what you may think, Natasha Romanoff knows you, and she knows that you are a lonely soul, never heard, hardly seen — You may be discreet, but not enough to escape her observant gaze.

Even though it was the third time she had asked the question, you detected no trace of impatience in her tone, no judgment in her eyes, just a certain.. expectation, but you could not tell for what reason.

“Ar-,” — you sure? You wanted to ask, but you swallow the words before you can say them, replacing them by a simple nod. “Yes,” you blurted out the word, your voice being so high-pitched that you winced with embarrassment for a moment. “I mean.. I do not have a partner yet, and I would love to work with you,” you clarified, trying to control your voice, but your excitement hadn’t gone unnoticed by the redhead, nor did the slight tremble of your hands, and she was now smirking — because you looked like you were about to explode, and maybe you were, for real. “My name is-”

“I know,” she cut you off as she filled in the sheet that was being passed through the rows, writing your name without any hesitation, without a mistake. “Did I write it right?” She asked with feigned care. She already knew that she got it right, and she is not surprised when you nod — she could not say the same about you, though.

You may belong to two completely different worlds in appearance, one barely existing, always in her sole company, the other always surrounded, her presence hard to ignore. And yet, from the very first lessons, Natasha had found something endearing about you, waiting for the opportunity to approach you without frightening you — and she knew she was not the only one whose gaze you caught.

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

Before that evening, the two women had never spoken of you — nor had they ever spoken to you — and you were like a half-confessed secret floating between them, because despite their respective silence, they knew each other too well to not know the truth.

Wanda could see the smile on Natasha’s lips whenever she was coming out of her language classes that, as luck would have it, you had chosen too. And Natasha for sure noticed the sparke in Wanda’s eyes when they landed on you in the corridors, always lingering a little longer than they should on your silhouette.

But they had never been brave enough to put into words what they were feeling, and this desire continued to grow little by little in their hearts. Out of respect, they told themselves, to not admit that it was out of fear — that they would mess everything up.

You were from a very different world. The two women were popular, and all it took was a smile and a few pretty words to get any girl into their bed. Girls who did not care about being a one-night stand, who lived for it, but they could tell that you were not one of them. You were reserved, and solitary, and by the way your fingers trembled and your words tangled at the slightest conversation, they guessed you took things too personally to be satisfied with a one-night stand — you needed time, and attachment.

But they were not sure they would be able to give you what you needed. Their relationship was complicated, messy, it was in their image and that suited them — or almost. And then, out of fear of ruining their chances by taking the first step too soon, or doing things the wrong way, they kept their desires a secret, observing you from afar, pretending it satisfied them.

Until that night.

From the moment they were dared by their friends to choose a target for their twisted game, your name had been on their minds — it has been evident. And so, despite the initial desire not to disturb your tranquility, they made you their prey. Their judgment had probably been impaired by the few — many — drinks they already had that night, but the cheers of their friends quickly cleared their doubts.

They could have chosen someone else — they should have — there were so many girls who envied them, who wouldn’t have minded being the object of a bet — but where was the fun in that? You were different, you were unreachable, always slipping through their fingers, never exchanging more than a few hesitant words with them, or the others.

You always left class the instant the bell rang, never leaving your headphones, and music quickly became your only company to the point where it discouraged any of your classmates from trying to bond with you.

If the women did not know any better, they would have assumed that you were content with your situation, but they had never missed the hint of sadness — and jealousy — that clouded your gaze whenever your eyes landed on the others — nor they had missed the desire in it when you were watching them, thinking they would not notice.

But they always did.

Something in your attitude made them want to wrap their arms around you, to protect you — and to love you — even though they barely know who you are. It is a foreign feeling they had never felt before, not even with each other, their love taking on something completely different, something rougher.

And maybe that is why the two women did not think about the harm this little game could cause, because for a few hours, under the effects of alcohol, they had forgotten how different your world was from theirs, how much more fragile.

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

It is only a few days after you first met the redhead that you eventually came across the second one, Wanda, and for a long time you thought that your meeting had been nothing more than a happy — very happy — coincidence.

At that moment, you were at the library working on some of your assignments, or more realistically regretting some of your materials choices — How could a Sokovian language class for beginners be so complicated? A few months ago, it had sounded like an interesting choice, and you had then been thrilled by the possibility of learning a new language. But you soon understood why so few people chose this class; while it sounded appealing on paper, it was nothing less than a nightmare to study.

Despite trying your best, you were piling up the difficulties, falling behind, and you were not sure you would ever be able to catch up, even if they gave you years to do so. The letters and their sounds, the words and their meanings, everything was mixed in your mind, forming an indecipherable mass of information.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when she approached your table. At this point, it was not about studying the material or getting your exercises done anymore, it was about pushing these thoughts away, those which attempted to drag you down, to encourage you to give up — because what is even the point of putting so much energy into something you are going to fail, as everything else you do?

It is only when she waved her hand in front of your eyes that you noticed her presence, and it took you a few long seconds before you recognized her face.

“Y- yeah?” You stuttered, scrambling to remove your headphones.

“May I sit there? All the seats are taken,” she explained softly, a disappointed pout spreading across her face as she talks. And, unable to refuse — and certainly not wanting to — you hurriedly retrieve your belongings to make room for the brunette.

What you ignored is that her words were not completely true. While most of the tables were in fact taken, Wanda was not actually looking for a seat. She was already on her way out when she saw you, but it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up — Especially since Natasha had already taken the lead in their little game, and she hated to lose.

But maybe you should have said no, because from the moment she sat down, you have been unable to concentrate on your work. All your thoughts were directed to the woman, especially since you could feel her gaze on you as she watched what you were doing.

If her gaze was filled with curiosity, you could not help but imagine judgment in it — What would she think of you if you wrote something really wrong and really stupid? Suddenly, your breathing was a little faster, your hands clammy, forcing you to readjust your grip on your pen several times, and your mind too foggy to be able to do more than pretending to be thinking.

Why did you say yes, already?

Partially because you didn’t know how to say no, mainly because you were so delirious that a part of you was hoping to become friends with the woman, exactly like in fiction where the most beautiful relationships were starting with insignificant, unexpected encounters. It was stupid, and you were perfectly aware of that, already regretting your choice — You should have lied, it wouldn't have been that hard, would it? But the words came too late to your mind, and you were now stuck with that girl until one of you decided to leave.

The minutes stretched until they seemed interminable, as if the seconds had stopped ticking. None of you were doing anything, and she hadn’t even bothered to — or at least pretend to — mind her own business, never taking out her notebooks, never letting her eyes leave your worksheets for a minute.

When she finally spoke, you looked at her with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. If you didn’t understand the meaning behind her words, you could still recognize them as Sokovian — And by the way she pointed to your sheet while talking, you guessed she had seen every one of your mistakes.

But she had not been mean about it, and even the smirk she wore was not mischievous, just very frustrating as you would learn later. The girl — Wanda, as she will let you know in a few minutes — even kindly offered you a little help, probably out of pity, which you tried to refuse. But your lies were not very convincing.

“That’s nice, but I am doing just fine,” you replied, your words sounding a little harsher than they did in your head. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to mind, her smile not faltering.

“Are you sure?” She asked back, tilting her head slightly to the side. But she already knew the answer, you both did, and it was no surprise that you eventually admitted that you in fact needed a little help with your lessons.

“Actually, no,” you conceded, and the chuckle that escaped her lips was so infectious that you forgot your own embarrassment for a moment, a soft laugh escaping yours too.

And if at first you felt bad about accepting her help, that feeling quickly faded as a routine set in. At least twice a week, the two of you would meet at the library so she could help with your language lessons — And damn, you really needed this help. Surprisingly, the woman never lost her patience, and even when you thought she would hate you for making her repeat the same thing dozens of times, she did not, always remaining benevolent.

You appreciated these moments more than you would admit it. Wanda’s presence was breaking your loneliness a bit, even though you were not sure if you two could be considered as friends since you’ve never met outside of the library’s walls.

“Why does it have to be so difficult?” You mumble, and these are the words that usually conclude your sessions, marking the moment when you despair overcomes your determination. Most of the time, they are accompanied by a groan as you lean dramatically on the table, knowing it would make her laugh. A sound you loved to hear because it made your heart beat like never before. A sweet, warm feeling that spreads through your whole being.

At that point, she always whispers the same words that you can’t understand. And whenever you ask her about their meaning, she refuses to give you the answer. “It will give you a reason to study,” is the response she gives you every time. And as she talks, there is that unnerving smirk dancing at the corner of her lips.

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

Since you have met the women, something has shifted in your attitude. It was nothing obvious, but it was still enough for them to notice. You were a bit more confident, sometimes even initiating contact with them instead of dodging their eyes. and you let in a glimpse of yourself you'd usually kept hidden. More relaxed, less withdrawn.

And you felt it too, this change.

The past few weeks, the fear that used to knot your insides had been replaced by a kind of enthusiasm. It was driven by the fact that you knew you would see them whenever you were at university, and even though you were not talking much with them outside of your work sessions, you were looking forward to crossing their paths. The women always had a smile or a lingering hand to spare, and these small gestures meant everything to you as they never failed to make your days much better than they were.

Honestly, if you haven’t yet seen any of them outside university, it was mainly your fault. Despite how great everything was going, there was still this lingering fear you couldn’t get rid off — It was this voice. The one that never failed to remind you how much people must hate you, how much you hated yourself. And it was always here to remind you that the women will dump you at your first mistake, because it is sure you will end up making one. You always do, ending up ruining all the good things you were given.

Studying at the library with Wanda, or working on your group project in a coffee shop with Natasha, it was easy, familiar and you knew how to do it without messing it up. So every time they have tried to propose something different — and damn, they have tried so many times — you’ve come up with an excuse, always being too busy to do anything else than studying.

In reality, the only thing you have been busy with was drowning in your own thoughts. Despite how well things were going with them, you were still not sure if you could really be friends, let alone being more, as your delusional mind liked to hope sometimes.

They are popular, and so are their friends. They go to parties every Thursday, where they probably drink and smoke. They do not worry about everything, and are not scared by everyone. They are pretty, funny, and confident. In other words, these people were everything you were not. They knew how to live, something you did not, and you knew they would notice that you weren’t like them the moment you would meet — And what if they judge you for that? What if they do not like you? Or worse, what if they talk about it with Wanda and Natasha, and the women eventually realize how lame you are ?

But tonight had been different, because this time you had said yes to them — more specifically to the redhead. When she told you she was having a party at her place, you were ready to decline before she even got a chance to finish her sentence. Yet, this time, Natasha had refused to take no for an answer, and after several long minutes of trying to convince — and reassure — you, you eventually agreed. But it was only after she told you — multiple times — that it wasn’t really a party, only a small gathering with a few friends to celebrate the end of the exams.

A choice you were now regretting.

You have never felt so out of place than the moment you walked through that door, entering a universe that was foreign to you — Natasha and you definitely didn’t have the same definition of a “small gathering.” When you didn’t immediately see the redhead, the thought of leaving crossed your mind because it suddenly felt impossible. Until then, you knew the steps you had to follow perfectly — choosing an outfit, coming there, not too late but not too early, bringing a little something — but now?

Now, you were not sure, and this uncertainty was already gnawing at you — Should you send her a message? But what if she forgot about you, or doesn’t want to stay with you all night? Should you get yourself a drink?

The weight on your chest grew heavier with each passing second, but the moment your eyes met hers, it was gone. You weren’t aware of it, but she saw you the moment you entered the room. You had this ability to absorb all her concentration, to the point where she wasn’t listening to the conversation she was engaged in anymore.

You hadn’t planned what happened in the following hours. It just happened, one event after another, and you just let it happen. At the same time, after a drink, or two — or maybe three — you weren't really able to think anymore. This too, you didn’t foresee. But you have been unable to refuse the glasses that some people kept handing you, a part of your actions being driven by the desire to be like them, or at least pretend to be for one night.

“I think you had more than enough for tonight, malyshka,” she intervened at some point, fetching the drink someone was handing you before you could grab it.

“Noo,” you whined in response. The redhead may was right, but the action still felt really unfair in the moment, and you couldn’t help but pout as you witnessed your drink being taken away. “Please, just one last more, I promise I am perfectly fine,” you tried to argue, but nothing you could say would change her mind, and you understood it when the only answer she gave you was a negative nod of the head. “You are not fair!” You grumbled.

“Life never is,” she replied, a smirk dancing on her lips — One that was frustrating but terribly endearing at the same time. One that was atrociously close to Wanda’s, the two women having more in common than they might admit. “Come on,” she eventually added, grabbing your arm as she was talking.

“Where?” You immediately asked, refusing to follow the woman, almost fighting her grip. “I don’t wanna leave,” you whined, and this time her eyes went up to the sky — You may be adorable, but you were also being damn annoying when drunk.

“We are not leaving, I promise,” she sighed, “I have something I wanna show you,... a secret,” she added, lowering her voice. The woman knew exactly what words to use to convince you to follow.

Throughout the walk, one of her hands rested on your lower back, probably because she didn’t want you to get lost — Or to run away. A thought that was really tempting right now. And it was a good thing that she was there to catch you when you got your feet caught. not because of the drinks, but because you were too focused on her than where you were walking.

You could not help but stare, but observe every detail of her face. Your eyes traveled up her jawline, lingering on her lips for a moment too long before tracing the bridge of her nose to these eyes, topped by slightly frowning eyebrows, an expression she often wore when she was focused on something.

“I wanna kiss you,” you blurted out at some point, the words coming out of your mouth before you could even realize it. By the time you do, it is already too late to take them back, and you can’t help but blush under the redhead’s gaze. Fierce, and full of something you couldn’t name — Hunger, desire. Things no one has ever felt towards you in the past.

In reality, the look of surprise on Natasha’s face was — at least partly — feigned. The women already knew about your attraction to her, you weren’t exactly as discreet as you had imagined. Yet, she hadn’t expected you to be so direct about it when you would eventually reveal your feelings for her, you who were usually so reserved, and shy. But the alcohol probably helped loosen your tongue.

“Do you?” She asked, but she already knows the answer, and before you can even nod or mutter some excuses, you are pushed against the corridor walls.

The music from the party was still playing loudly but you could barely hear it, the sound covered by the one of your heart pounding in your ears. You had expected the woman to react in a lot of different ways, but never this one. In the thousands of scenarios that had been created by your mind, never one had involved anything other than rejection — Instant, and disgusted.

The possibility that she might feel the same way you do seemed unreal. You were too used to being invisible, not enough to being seen, and desired. It was something new and foreign, and it made you feel like you were about to die on the spot — But at the same time it was the best thing you had ever felt.

“Then I must give you what you want, printsessa,” she whispered, and even before she leaned in so her lips could meet yours, she was so closed that you could feel her breath brushing against your face.

God, she has waited so long for this moment, unable to take the first step because she was afraid she would mess everything up, afraid that the relationship she has built with you over the past weeks would crumble — Because kissing you means that the bait is over, and she is not sure she wants it to be. Because it has never truly been about this stupid game.

| MAIN MASTERLIST - REQUEST GUIDELINES. — next part.

| Tag list —

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sebastianstanisahotmf · 2 months ago

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Happy Birthday

Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

A/N As always likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Also if anyone knows someone who would be willing to make me collages for a couple character masterlists it would be greatly appreciated! xoxo

18+ MINORS FUCK OFF YOU'RE NOT OLD ENOUGH

Summary it's Buckys Birthday. That's it.

WC - 369

DO NOT REPOST ONTO ANY OTHER APPS/WEBSITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings Fluff, smut, unprotected sex, overstimulation, squirting, Bucky Barnes, let me know if I've missed anything!

Bucky's thrusts are slow, but hard. Each slap of his hips against yours is a reminder of the long night you've shared.

Hickeys cover your body from your ankles to your jaw, a sign of Bucky's gratitude. Maybe this isn't what you expected when you were waiting for Bucky on your bed in his favourite set of lingerie. Maybe you were kidding yourself.

Either way, you are at the point where you're just accepting what Bucky gives you. It's not a surprise after seven orgasms from yourself and three from Bucky, leaving both of you sensitive and in a place where pain and pleasure meld together.

You let out a strangled moan as you near another orgasm, the pain almost too much with the sensitivity of your puffy folds, sloppy with a mixture of yours and Bucky's cum.

"Aww I know doll, just one more for me, yeah?" Bucky roughly whispers into your ear, in between gruff moans.

You nod faintly and try to respond but it just turns into a squeal, causing Bucky to chuckle lowly.

"C'mon babydoll, I got you, just let go" he whispers.

Your back arches and you moan louder than you ever have before as he reaches his vibranium hand down to rub your puffy, raw pearl to push you over the edge. You fall head first into an eye-watering orgasm which takes over your body, your back arches and you gasp from the intensity.

Bucky whines when he feels you squirt over his sensitive cock and shaking thighs. It only takes a few more thrusts until he's coming too, his legs shaking as he groans into your neck, his cum pumping into you rope after rope.

After a few minutes of panting and holding you close, Bucky pulls back with a hiss. He chuckles and wipes away your tears.

"'was s'pposed to let you relax," you slur.

"I am relaxed, doll" Bucky mumbles, his chest vibrating against yours.

"Happy birthday darlin'" you mumble and press a kiss to his cheek.

"happy birthday to me indeed" Bucky pauses before a mischievous grin makes its way onto his face, "now I've just got to top this for your birthday"

"fuck... don't think I'd survive that"

If you want to be tagged whenever I post a fic then click on the link.

If you want to see what I reblog my other account is @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin @buck-star @kenzs-world @hisredheadedgoddess28 @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @emerald-writes

#marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #reader insert #james bucky barnes #x reader #Bucky barnes x reader smut #Smut #James bucky barnes x reader smut #Happy birthday #Birthday #Birthday sex #Female reader #Bucky barnes x Female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #f!reader #James bucky barnes x reader #James bucky barnes x f!reader

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tuiccim · 6 months ago

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We're Gonna Burn (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen, Non/DubCon (because sex pollen), enemies to lovers.

Summary: When an exposure to a strange powder makes you feel as if you're burning to death, your only relief is in the person you hate the most. Now dealing with the aftermath makes you question everything.

A/N: Hi friends! Thanks so much for your patience. We lost my mother-in-law last month and it's been a difficult time. But, I've got part two up and have got a good head start on parts 3 and 4. Hopefully updates won't be so far in between. As always, I have to say a special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby who is also my hype princess and most darling friend. I hope you enjoy!

We're Gonna Burn Masterlist

In the two days since you returned to the compound, you had rarely left your room. Your body was incredibly sore the first day but it had started to lessen. You were glad the medbay kept a supply of morning after pills. Dr. Miles, your most trusted doctor, had examined you after the fact and said that you should be fully healed in a few days. The examination was a necessary requirement but it had felt like yet another invasion.

Your emotions were a mess and the doctor had suggested a visit with a counselor to help you work through them. Now, you were starting to wonder if she had been right. Compartmentalizing wasn’t working, you had strange dreams, and your mood was all over the place. You had avoided everyone while you were off-duty to heal. The thought of facing any of them, especially Bucky, made you sick. By now, you were sure they all knew what happened. Bucky had probably gloated that he had-

You couldn’t even finish the thought and shake it away. When you filled out the mission report, you had simply stated that there was an exposure to an unknown substance that had caused a short-lived fever. Quarantine and a battery of tests had cleared you to return home to the compound. The only person who knew what happened was Dr. Miles and Bucky, of course. Your gut clenched whenever you thought of him, which was often now. Hell, it had always been often. You had been enthralled by his story and excited to join the team. Unfortunately, he had proven to be nothing like you imagined. He seemed to hate you from the moment you were introduced. His comradery with your other teammates was fun and friendly, but with you, he was always scowling and defensive. You had given up after a few attempts at striking up a conversation. He had shut you down and moved away every time.

And now, you’re a notch on his belt. Not that either of you had chosen it. It was just horrible luck- or was it? Had he purposely led you to that lab? Had he known what was there? What would happen? No, you stop yourself from spiraling. Even if he was a jackass, he wasn’t that kind of person. He had been just as surprised and affected. The thought of how affected he had been made you clench. You hated him but, fuck, that had been the most amazing sex of your life. You wondered if it was the drug or that thick-

Stop it! You hate him! You yell at yourself in your head. You felt concurrently turned on, ashamed, and angry. It was frustrating and eating at you.

Thinking of eating, your stomach rumbles. It was late and you thought it would be safe to make a quick trip to the kitchen. You had exhausted the supply of snacks in your room and needed some real food. Peeking into the hall, you find it empty and quietly make your way to the kitchen. You make yourself a plate and raid the pantry for more snacks. As you were tip-toeing back to your room you saw Bucky coming out of his room at the other end of the hallway. He froze when he noticed you and watched as you made a mad dash for your room. Inside, you try to calm your rapidly beating heart. Tears streamed down your face for some reason you couldn’t pinpoint. You set everything on your desk and crumpled into a ball on the floor. You rocked as you tried to calm yourself while also berating yourself for your weakness. It was just sex. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like you wanted it or even asked for it. It was just a mutually agreed upon need.

All your rationalizations did nothing to stop the surge of emotions taking over. So, you decided that maybe Doc was right. You needed to talk to someone. Someone to help you sort out your own feelings. You just hoped that you could feel normal again because, right now, you are not yourself.

–

Bucky stared at the space you had occupied a minute ago. He hadn’t seen you since you’d returned from the mission. You hadn’t been able to look at him in the small amount of time you were together during exfil. You’d both been put through quarantine and testing. He had no long lasting effects from the exposure but he knew you had to be bruised and sore from the experience. He felt immensely guilty about that but he could no more have stopped what was happening than you could. Sometimes he wondered if he could have even if it wasn’t for the pollen, it was the best thing he’d felt in seventy years. You were so soft, wet, and perfectly tight.

Berating himself as he felt his body react to the memories, he reminded himself that you hate him. You had good reason to. He had been an absolute ass since you joined the team. Hethinks about his terrible behavior. He didn’t like new people to start with and then, out of seemingly nowhere, you were put with the team. It roused his suspicions and he viewed you as a potential threat. So, he had questioned your every motive, idea, and process. He wanted to hate you but the more he saw your work with the team and interactions outside of it, the more he found you intriguing. Rather than apologizing or correcting his behavior, he had doubled down. He couldn’t explain it but some small, stupid part of him had hoped that this incident would create an opening for him to reconcile with you but now you couldn't even look at him.

Who could blame you after the way he had treated you? Both before and during. He had been lost in the feeling and had stopped fighting the effects of the pollen the first moment he entered you. Hell, he hadn’t really fought it from the beginning. He had burst into that bathroom as if he had every right to enter it. You had to hate him even more now with what he’d done. He felt the need to talk to you, to apologize, to ask you to forgive him. He hadn’t told a soul what happened and had been deliberately vague in his mission report. He hadn’t wanted to make it any worse for you.

Retreating to his room, Bucky paces trying to figure out his next move. Should he approach you or wait for you to come to him? He shakes his head. You wouldn’t approach him. Not the way you, no doubt, feel about him. You probably never wanted to see him again. What did you think? Did you hate him even more? Most likely. Did you think he had done this on purpose? That he had taken advantage of you? The drug had taken both of your ability to really consent. Did you feel… What are you feeling? He couldn’t stand the thought that you hated him even more or that you thought he hurt you purposely.

He grabbed the doorknob, determined to speak with you but his hand slipped from it before he could turn the knob. You needed more time. He shouldn’t push you. He’d wait until you were at least healed. That was a better idea, he decided. It wasn’t that he was chickening out, he was just waiting until the wounds weren’t so fresh. That was the best thing to do, wasn’t it?

–

You nervously bounce your legs as you wait for the office door of Dr. Victoria Montesi to open. Dr. Miles had gotten you an appointment within thirty minutes of messaging her that morning. You wonder if she already had Dr. Montesi on standby. It wouldn’t be surprising with how well Doc seemed to know and anticipate your needs medically.

When the door opens, you turn to look at the woman smiling softly at you. She was lovely with dark hair and eyes, and she radiated a calm demeanor that immediately put you at ease.

“Hi. I’m Vicki Montesi,” she introduced herself.

Giving a polite smile, you give your name but don’t extend your hand. Touch was too intimate a thing to do currently and Dr. Montesi seemed to instinctively understand your body language. You felt so weak and hated it. You had been through major disasters, espionage, a host of events that would fell another person. Why was this the one thing that affected you so deeply?

Dr. Montesi motioned for you to follow her and closed the door behind you softly, “Sit wherever you like. Do you mind if I take some notes?”

“Uh, no, that's fine,” you shrug.

She grabbed a pad of paper off her desk and took a seat across from where you had settled on the couch. You fidgeted with your hands, glancing up occasionally. You knew she was waiting for you to start but two could play at-

“What brings you in today?” She interrupts your train of thought.

“I, um,” you stuttered, thrown that she hadn’t followed the pattern you expected. “What did Dr. Miles tell you?”

“That you needed someone to talk to.”

“Oh…” you trail off suspiciously.

“Your privacy is tantamount to both of us as your doctors,” Dr. Montesi says gently.

“Right. So, I, um, we, I,” you stop yourself. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you begin again, “I was on a mission with a teammate. We were exposed to a powder that… forced the need for, for. Fuck! It made us burn up with fever and feel intense pain unless we were actively having sex. It felt like we were dying if we weren’t fucking. And of all the people in the fucking world it had to be with Bucky fucking Barnes. I can’t stand him and knowing that we- goddammit.” The words had become rushed and your frustration grew as you tried to explain.

“So, you were put into a situation you had no control over, and your only relief was provided by someone you don’t like? Am I understanding you correctly?”

“Yes and hate. I hate him. He’s such a jerk, He’s probably told everyone who would listen.”

“Why do you think that?” Dr. Montesy probes.

“Because he always undermines everything I say, anything I bring to the table. What better way to knock me down a few pegs than to tell everyone that he got me in bed?” You explain.

“Have you spoken with him since it happened?”

“No, I haven’t really spoken to anyone since, ya know.” You look down at your hands.

“And you feel that Bucky has after what happened?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” You scoff.

“Do you think the situation was different for him?”

“Yes! No, I… I don’t know,” you look away for a minute gauging what he could possibly be feeling. In your mind you think through your prejudices towards him, realizing many were sexist assumptions of what men are supposed to feel and others never took his past into consideration. Most of your thoughts had centered only around the hatred you felt for him and his constant attitude towards you but underneath all of that was a real person who was probably struggling with aspects of this as well. You admit in a near whisper, “Probably not.”

“It’s good that you’re able to look outside yourself. Can you tell me how you feel about the situation aside from him?”

You nod, taking a moment to assess that yourself, “It sucks to not have control over a situation to not have any good choices. I didn’t want it to happen but it’s part of the job. Sometimes you end up in these situations where no matter what you do, you’re going to come out on the other end with regrets. This one was just much more intimate than most. I want to blame someone and I keep blaming myself. That I couldn’t control myself, that I led both of us straight into that trap, that I used him and allowed him to use me. I just feel ashamed.”

“That’s common in situations like this but you did the one thing you were supposed to do. You survived.”

–

You saw Dr. Montesi again a couple of days later. She was helping you process and you appreciated it. She had a way of pulling things out of you that surprised you. Like when you continually called him Barnes rather than his first name and anytime she said his first name, you corrected her immediately.

“There’s something more here. What is it about his name that bothers you?” She asks.

“He… made me say it during,” you shrug, looking away.

“Why does that bother you?”

“I never call him by his first name. It's always Barnes or asshat. Never Bucky.”

“And he made you call him Bucky?”

“Yes. He wouldn’t, you know, um… let me-”

“Orgasm?”

“Yeah, until I did. It felt… awkward,” you finish softly.

“Just awkward?” She pushes.

“Infuriating. Like a violation, another way control was taken from me. I mean, why? Why would he do that? What possessed him?”

“Well, the pollen for one thing, but have you considered that might have been the way he found some control in the situation?”

“So, you’re saying I shouldn’t take it personally? It wasn’t about bringing me to heel but about him finding a modicum of control? But should that negate how I feel?” You ask, confused.

“Not at all. Your feelings are valid but what I want you to understand is there is a why for him that may have had nothing to do with you. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“Why have you never called him by his first name?”

“Because I hate him,” you shrug.

“Can you elaborate on that?”

“It’s like I told you before, he treats me like a subordinate. Like I didn’t earn my place and I don’t have anything to offer.”

“Even after you’ve worked together for the last several months?”

“It lessened after a while I guess but he still acts like an ass all the time.”

“How have you handled that?”

“I tried to be friendly, to prove myself, and then I gave up. Why waste the energy?”

“Is it a waste? There’s no hope?” Dr. Montesi tilts her head.

“I mean, I don’t… I don’t know. I just… I don’t know,” your voice trails off as you think back over all your interactions with Bucky. What if you had missed an opening? Was there some point when he tried to let you in but you had closed yourself off and delivered only sass and smartass remarks? But was that your fault? Was it all up to you?

“It’s okay to not have an answer but it is something you might think about until we see each other again.”

–

You saw her again early the next week. Each time it helps you see more clearly and feel more like yourself. Her guidance through your feelings and assumptions both good or bad, right or wrong without judgment or censure allowed you to explore more than just the situation with Barnes. It was the question she had posed about his motives that had stuck with you.

“I think I'm ready to talk to,” you pause as your stubborn nature still fights against you calling him Bucky, but Barnes seemed even less apt now. You finally settled on just using the noncommittal, “him.”

“Oh?” Dr. Montesi waits for you to elaborate.

“I feel like I need to know his motives and feelings,” the last word was hard to push past your lips. You hadn't considered his feelings ever really. At least, not since he had proven himself to be a royal jackass. There was still a part of you that loathed him but somehow concern for his reaction to all of this had wormed its way into your mind.

“What do you think that will do for you?” She asks, tilting her head.

“I don't know. I read his mission report on what happened. He was even more vague than I was on the details. Whether he was protecting himself or me, I wasn't sure but,” you take a deep breath before admitting the next part, “then I went through the other reports for missions we had been on together. He's always succinct but never fails to highlight others' contributions to the outcome. Even mine. It was obvious reading them that at some point he had started to see me as an asset. So, I guess, I think it'll give me some closure. Either we can start building a more respectful comradery or that's never going to happen and it's time for me to think about moving on.”

“How would that make you feel?”

“Disappointed but I want to be part of a team that has mutual respect for each other. If he can never give me that respect, I don't want to work with him. I'm not asking to be friends, just teammates. Preferably ones who can hold a conversation without all the snark.” You paused for a moment as a feeling of pride suffused through you. You were stronger than you realized and you were ready to find happiness and fulfillment on your terms. You smiled to yourself and then looked up to share it with Dr. Montesi. Maybe you were imagining it, but you felt you could see it in her eyes, too.

When you left her office a little while later, you pulled out your phone and sent a short text.

You: Hey. Can we talk?

It was only a few minutes later that your phone dings.

You let out a little laugh. That was probably the most civilized conversation the two of you had ever had. You started feeling the nerves in your stomach. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation but you needed it to happen. It was time to face this head on. As you make your way, you practice breathing techniques and make mental notes of what you wanted to say and ask. You even jotted a few down to help you remember when you know you're going into an emotional situation.

Barnes: Yeah. On the phone or do you want to meet up?

You: I’d prefer face to face.

Barnes: Where? I can come to you.

You: I’m on my way back there. I’ll come to you.

Barnes: Okay.

There is still the confusion in your own head of what to call him. Such a simple thing but rife with emotion for you. Barnes was what you called him because you hated him and now you weren’t sure you did. James is his first name but no one calls him that. Bucky felt too friendly and intimate especially when it triggers reminders of that night every time you even think about it. Sergeant was too formal and felt harsh and rigid. Asshat was fitting when he was being one but you could hardly call him that all the time. You think back to what he calls you but, in just the way you have, he calls you by your last name mostly. You don’t ever recall hearing him say your first name. Occasionally, your designation and more than a few times he’s referred to you as “pita.” His way of calling you “pain in the ass.” You let out a scoffing laugh when you think of that and then shake the conundrum away. Maybe after this talk, you’d figure out what to call him or you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore if you decided to move on.

Part 3

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