#sinfulsecretschallenge

[msruchita]

Who Knew? - Part 1

Summary: It’s been 5 years since the snap, Bucky doesn’t seem to be coming back. Enters a stranger who is a balm to her soul. Will she dare to love again?

Pairing: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (There’s just a lot of smut, so please, swearing too)

So, I have finally created a proper Marvel fic for the Sinful Secret’s Challenge. My prompt was ‘Do you want something better? Here’s my number.’ from

@howardpotts and also tagging @tranquil--heart and @cametobuyplums

Let me know your feedback and seriously, every like, reblog, comment is appreciated. I always aim to make myself a better writer. So, to stop rattling on, I hope you guys enjoy! Plus, my Taglist is open, but I will stop tagging you if after a few fics; I see no activity from your end

@thesaltyduchess @brazen88brat @lancetuckersmustache

Masterlist

“Enlighten me again, why are we playing Truth or Dare in the middle of a club when we can barely hear each other?!’ Peering intently over your glass at the three people opposite her, you downed the last of your vodka, before choking and gagging on it as everyone around you laughed uproariously. Trying your best to control your own laughter, you set the bottle down as Vesper winked at you before shaking a large silver cocktail mixer.

‘Feeling a little reptilian, in the nastiest way possible? We have you covered with Alligator Sperm! This bright green gator crazy goodness contains melon liqueur, pineapple juice, and yes, a literal splash of cream. Try ordering it at the bar with a straight face like me if you actually have the balls.’ She finished her sales pitch with a poker face as she poured out the  lime green liquid into fresh glasses while Shayan held a small pitcher of cream.

It was busy tonight, the crowd seemed to be thrice more than normal, the reek of booze, sweat and desperation spraying everywhere as you shifted on the slightly sticky leather. None of you ever spoke the truth outside of the group therapy sessions Steve forced you to go to. It was like scraping fresh wounds with salt, hence, every time Truth or Dare was played, it was more Shot or Dare. The latest dare being Vesper had to get a hickey from someone she hadn’t slept with yet; the video now safely in your phone courtesy from the bartender who had been necking her barely minutes ago, the fresh purple of the bruise standing out against her olive skin.

‘Crocodile cum, actually.’ Lucien was so matter of fact, everyone collapsed into a fit of giggles again as she waggled her eyebrows at him. The bass of the music thrummed through your veins as all of you relaxed, occasionally bursting into fits of laughter as all of you did shot after shot; most of the dares having already been done before and the novelty had faded.

‘Y/N, you. Flash your tits to the first guy that puts his hands on you or 5 shots.’ Shayan pointed at you, flashing you a grin that was anything but innocent, as you shrugged. Slamming all 5 in a row, you winked at them, waiting for the moment the liqueur went straight to your head; the throng of people gathered beneath the DJ, all looking to escape reality like you, parted like the sea as you slid off the leather vinyl.

The heat was near unbearable, but you didn’t care; the pulse of the music called to you, it was the only time you’ve ever felt so alive, so free. You could feel your blood singing as the humidity clung to you like second skin. The bass vibrated beneath your red heels; anything was better than thinking about what lay outside the walls of the club. At least protected by the four walls, throbbing beats and strobe lights, you didn’t have to face the rubble that Thanos left behind. The pain and suffering of the people lost still pierced deep in hearts; why Steve left you alone after you both lost him. The love of your life and his best friend. Bucky.

Swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, you swirled your hips, rucking up the black camisole top you borrowed from Wanda paired with the skin tight jeans she and Natasha would whistle at every time you stepped out in them, running your hands through your skin, as you let yourself be seduced by the music. The memories of their laughter echoed in your mind as you noted several appreciative glances at your dancing and your body, knowing the glitter oil you used was illuminating your curves just right as you flipped your hair back. You caught a flash of gold, Lucien’s watch glinting for a second, as he gave you a thumbs up, hoisting Shayan up. Nodding once, you blew a kiss to Vesper; knowing your friends were just checking on you before heading out.

Vesper and Lucien understood better than most; your need to stay awake the entire night. Giving you a once-over from the table, they would check that you’re okay before calling it a night. They never stayed long; but they never said no to you either whenever you asked to go out. You continued swaying side to side, giving your hips an extra boost, pushing the memories away; the flash of teeth, crinkle of eyes before steel-blue eyes…

No! You dug nails into your side sharply, the pain chasing away the scent of gun metal, whiskey and mint. It was either dancing till the bouncer called a cab for you, telling you it was time to close up or spending hours waiting silently, staring up at your ceiling fan waiting for the alarm to ring. You always stayed till closing time, helping out to clean the place down, making sure the employees got home safe.

The body that suddenly slotted against you from behind was both familiar yet a stranger. A distant memory of raised scars and a warm, calloused hand, the same hand that now splayed wide against your belly, unyielding yet soft. Leaning against the hard chest, you continued swaying hypnotically and he followed without a second thought. ‘Did you know, there’s a rumour going on,’ you began after a long pause, as his grip tightened on your belly at your facade of casualness, that hint of pain rushing to your head faster than alcohol. ‘That you’re Erik Stevens, T’Challa’s cousin?’

The flex of the muscles under his skin relaxed fractionally, as you wondered what he was so afraid of. Nobody cared about that anymore; too much had happened. He slipped a hand beneath the camisole, up to rest underneath your ribcage, so warm and steady. It pressed just beneath your breast; thumbing slowly at the curve, a whisper, let go for me.

You could kick yourself for the comparison you can’t help but make that he never matches up to. That memory lane was dangerous as you pulled yourself out once again, chasing away the ghost of cold metal against your skin, another rough palm splayed out against your tummy, keeping you grounded against him as you very slowly sunk yourself into the crook of his body.

‘What’s my name?’ Erik asked quietly, his words brushing against the shell of your ear as his hand came up to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh. ‘What do you know about me?’ He dipped his head further, his tongue snaking out to taste the jasmine on your skin, the other hand slowly tracing out symbols onto your bare flesh, the symbols etched on your skin like he knew, as you struggled not to shudder under his touch.

‘Charismatic genius, MIT graduate with top honors, slight homicidal tendencies and-,’ You cut yourself off, not wanting to do this dance anymore. You sighed indifferently, tired. ‘Why does it matter? One night and I’ll never see you again.’

His hips suddenly pressed flush against you, his cock coming to nestle between your ass, his hand playing with a nipple. A guttural growl of warning reverberates through his chest into you, like you’re treading on thin ice. True dread spiked through you as his posture shifted, shoulder rolled unconsciously back, feet parallel so that the weight is evenly distributed. The stance of a warrior.

His voice was a low timber as you slowly turned to face him, looking up at those piercing brown eyes filled with cold intelligence. ‘No,’ he assured, pulling the nipple away before releasing it, watching it bounce lightly. ‘Not with me. Never with me.’

You looked down to see the markings peeking from the top of his white shirt and the cuffs of his jean jacket. You knew they adorned his entire upper body; earned with every life taken. You should have trembled with fear when you traced one scar, but there was a deeper need to trace your tongue along each one, the way he longed to trace his fingers across every ink you had.

You sighed heavily again, breaking away from his touch as your body screamed for his warmth, hands that promised to show that you would be taken care off, over and over again. You managed to get away enough to reach the bar when Erik grabs your hand and like a movie spins you into his arms, flush against his chest, one hand slapping your ass so fiercely you gasp as he simply sets his lips on yours.

It could have been maybe a minute, but it felt like time suspended itself; everything slowed down before he gazed down at you, the hurt and concern in his eyes surprising. ‘Come with me, please.’ He held his hand out, and you slipped yours in it without thinking.

Your talks lasted the entire night, even after the soft pink and lavender of dawn peeked through, you both kept going. He starts with his beginning. About his father, about Wakanda, how he just wanted what was his by right; but even that had been deceitful. The fight for the throne, how he almost died, meeting the White Wolf. An enigma unlike himself.

Your heart clenched but he held you in his arms, your legs between his body, stroking your back against the silk. He tells you what his cousins were like, unable to hold a grin back at the elegant respect he begrudgingly built between him, T’Challa and M’Baku though the latter would love the chance to break his back. Shuri, for being a prodigy yet so humble, it annoyed him and made him prouder than he could have imagined.

You tell him how you met Bucky when Okoye and Steve forced him to join a yoga class as he wasn’t sleeping, and they had tried everything. Even Shuri was fed up. How it was a riot watching him struggle even though he had the natural agility and flexibility of an Olympian gymnast. Within a week he asked you out, a month later you were his girl, staying with him in STARK Towers, recounting all the incidences when F.R.I.D.A.Y and Tony would team up with Sam to play tricks on you.

He tells you about how Okoye beat him to within an inch of his life for attempting to murder her king and manipulate her lover, W’Kabi. He reluctantly admitted he deserved that as you laughed out loud, missing the way his face lit up at your laugh. His voice breaks slightly as he mentions going for therapy, going deep into the jungles to stop poachers, how he had just finished his probation when he heard the news, watching his men disappear.

A diplomat and the acting king for Wakanda, he came here hoping for some change, just anything to take him away from the ashes that haunted him. You would never admit how the bleakness in his eyes matched the ache in your heart…

You stand offering him a place to crash and a mug of peppermint hot chocolate as the sun filters through. He slowly pulls you into his embrace, arms tightening around you, the need to protect you, covet you so strong he doesn’t realise he’s near tears till his voice comes through ragged and raw.

‘Ya know, I expected something better than hugging the hottest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and getting hot chocolate for baring my soul.’

He stares down at you, a cocky smirk on his face, his eyes shining with unshed tears you wanted to smear with your thumb.

‘You want something better? Here’s my number.’ Scribbling your number on his hand with a ball point pen you found in his jacket, it was like a purse in there. ‘No calls for the next 2-3 days. I don’t put out on the first date.’

Winking at him, you power walked away, heels clacking, telling yourself you wouldn’t look back. Within 2 minutes, you started chuckling, looking at the message from the unknown number flashing on your screen.

‘I’m not waiting 2 days for that ass.’

8 Weeks Later

Your back hit the mattress with a thump, bouncing lightly, giggling as you shifted yourself half upright to see Erik more clearly, the bangles on your wrists clinking softly against each other. His dark eyes glittered in the darkness, the lust stamped on his face hungry as he reached for your ankle, tracing the delicate bone before kneeling on the bed, straddling your knees, holding you down with his weight.

Leaning forward, he kisses his way up the red fabric, the gold accents shining in the moonlight, pausing at your exposed waist. Shifting the material of your sari aside, he took a good look at you, chest heaving against the barely there blouse, your tattoos swirling in intricate patterns around your skin.

Grabbing your wrists, he gently kisses your clenched fists, the metal scarping softly against his lips, smiling at the soft exhale of breath as he pulls you up, deftly untying the strings that held the scraps of lace together, exposing your breasts to him. Pushing you back enough to arch your back, he trails a trail with his tongue over one breast, before pulling the fabric back over your skin, your nipples hard and aching, peeking through the sheer material.

‘Did you enjoy making your King squirm for you? Wrapping me around your little finger, turning me into a jealous clout with just a yard of fabric? Hmm, answer me!’ He slapped you once, the slight sting making you gasp as with another grim smile, he slants his mouth over yours, swallowing the squeak of surprise, his hand tweaking a nipple, the soft scratch of brocade teasing your sensitive skin.

Mewling slightly, you grab his shoulders when he pulls away, trying to pull him down to your lips again, but he shrugs you off, instead kissing a burning trail down your neck, deftly undoing your necklace and draping it on the table beside; over your exposed shoulder before biting down on the firm muscle, his teeth leaving their imprint behind.

Frustrated at Erik’s refusal to kiss you, your hands reach for the lapels of his suit, fumbling to get the buttons undone on his shirt, as he reached to nip at your collarbone, sucking a row of purple bruises along the column, grabbing your hands and pulling them away from his shirt, shaking his head.

‘No baby, not this time. Not after that little stunt you pulled with this outfit…’ His words trail away as he runs a warm possessive hand over your waist, tugging lightly at the thin chain that adorned it, licking his lips slowly as your own heartbeat sped up.

*

Another useless gala dinner with the world leaders; just another unproductive meeting for them to try and reason with the Avengers. They never showed, leaving everything to you and Erik. The situation had worsened as nobody knew what to do with all the empty infrastructure. You had been sent to mediate lest the situation worsened; you wondered since when did a yoga teacher become a certified consultant.

Slowly climbing up the stairs, making sure your golden high heels didn’t catch along the embroidered fabric, you strode towards the foyer, just as Eric stepped in with Okoye nearly barrelling into the Prime Minister of Canada over, as his eyes never left you. The mere sight of you, a vision of gold and red with slight accents of blue; a true goddess. Okoye merely smiled at you, mouthing how beautiful you looked before her sharp eyes swept around, making sure there was no threat as the Prime Minster ogled at you.

His reaction did not go unnoticed by the Warrior King, his mouth tight at the sight of the sari wrapped around your lithe body, your curves accentuated by the small dips and creases in the fabric, your waist enticing any man for a closer look with a simple gold chain adorning it. His chain, the one he asked you to wear for good luck, now made into an object of desire.

Heads turned, jaws went slack as women hissed softly in envy, the sari blouse so daringly cut, it couldn’t even be called a blouse, it was a bikini top, mere scraps of gold lace held together by strings, cupping your breasts softly.

You strolled towards him, unaware of the seductive spell you wove; an extra swing in your hips, your movements almost cat-like, as you came to stand beside him, claiming your place, his hand sliding down your back possessively…

The rest of the night was a blur of sexual tension, stolen touches and awkward adjustments as he discreetly kept adjusting his dress slacks every time you bent down exposing the tattoo on your chest or when you turned around to showcase another one of your inked designs on your back dipping into your waist. Gritting his teeth, he promised retribution for your teasing, his teeth bright against the warm tones of his skin, a dark glint in his eyes.

Pinning your wrists down over your head, he used the strings of your blouse to tie the bangles together, the metal clinking each time you moved, a warning to not bring them down as he bent down to kiss you, slow and passionate, but still ghosting around deep. He begins his assault on your neck again, this time leaving a trail of stinging, red bites down your chest, around your breasts to bite down on your nipple, bringing your body up to an arch.

Keeping one hand below the bangles holding them down, the other hand strips off the fabric off your body, leaving you topless in the petticoat, your stomach quivering as he runs a finger lazily to trace the angelic runes that adorn the soft skin. Your belly goes taut under his touch, breath heaving as you moan for more. The soft cotton clings to your legs as he reaches down and takes his time pulling up the skirt, kissing every inch of freshly exposed skin. His other hand moves to clasp your hand in his, finger entwining as his lips trail your calf, up your knees, to your inner thighs, your arousal soaked through the cotton. You didn’t wear any underwear.

The dark glint returns as his mouth descends up to focus on your breasts again, kissing the aroused flesh, blowing warm air on each pert nipple, a small frown on your face as he refuses to give it the attention its begging for, instead stroking his hands across your exposed belly, the tattoos shining black under the moonlight from the open window.

Slowly, he tugs the petticoat off you, leaving you completely naked save for the belly chain and the bangles on your wrists. ‘Baby, you went without underwear, that’ll require some punishment…’

He smiles into your skin, finally taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking slowly as a single thick digit slides into your wet, swollen folds, his groan reverberating through you. He chuckles wickedly, as you tighten and moan around him, the other hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing.

You buck your hips against his hand. ‘Erik, please…’

‘Hmm?’ He asks innocently, deliberately adding another finger , raising his head to press a kiss to your lips, his mouth watering to taste your tattoos, taste your sweet pussy, the obscene sounds calling for his tongue. He rubs his lips against yours, nipping the bottom lip and biting it down with a soft pull.

His muscular body pulls you up to him, pressed against you, the scars creating their own friction against his clothes, his cock hard against your mound. The sensation sends warmth and lust in dizzying waves through you, pooling to your lower belly. His fingers curl inside you, rubbing against your sweet spot, before pulling them out completely to suck and lick them.

‘So beautiful, so wicked, so sweet, all for me…’

‘Fucking tease…’

He chuckles again darkly, bending down to kiss you again as you gasp against his mouth as he suddenly thrusts both fingers back inside, the other hand leaves your throat to hold the back of your waist, the chain digging into your skin, keeping you still as he slowly finger fucks you.

‘I’m the tease?’ He continues the slow, torturous pace, enjoying the myriad of emotions running through your face, your mouth slightly open in mid-moan, and you look so pretty he can’t help pull you in to kiss you.

‘Perhaps you should have thought of the consequences about wearing bits of cloth as a blouse and this damn sari, mmm, this sari, will be the bane of my existence, and my solace when I’m away from you. Shouldn’t have worn it to the gala. This should have been just for me.’

‘It was a necessary risk. It’s my job to entertain and mediate the delegates.’ You manage to breathe out, his growl making you jump.

‘Perhaps you were being unwise. You will entertain no man but me.’ The smile that now graces his face has a hint of madness, it’s almost evil. He’s no longer Erik, but Killmonger and you understand immediately what makes him so fearsome to his enemies. Crooking his fingers, he twists them, screw driving you, making you cry out as you nearly collide into him, jerking at the pleasure shooting throughout your entire body.

He lets go, watching you fall back on the sheets, your hands clenching at the duvet, almost ripping it to shreds as your orgasm builds up. You sit up, grasping at his suit, pushing it off his shoulders desperately, hands shaking to unbutton his shirt, exposing his body to you.

Killmonger refuses to give in to you, a wicked smirk on his face, instead moving his fingers with more speed, his knuckles hitting to the hilt every time, biting down on the other nipple harshly as your orgasm rocks you, and he removes his fingers, your walls clenching emptily at nothing, as you whine at the loss of contact, disbelief stamped on your face. He slides backwards of the bed, leaving you feeling cold and frustrated.

Quickly shedding off his clothes, standing completely nude at the foot of the bed, devouring you like a carnivore with his eyes. He grasps your ankle and pulls you to him, hard. You nearly fall off the bed straight into his arms, as he bounces you up, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist, the scars rubbing against your heated skin, making you bite your lip.

His hands come down to grab and squeeze your ass, slapping them a few times, knowing how much you love the sting, as he crawls back on to the bed, never leaving you and settling down on his knees. His hands trail all over your body, avoiding where you want them the most, pressing sweet open-mouthed kisses against the purple marks. He bites down on the skin on the other side, leaving angry red marks in its place, claiming you as his.

He pushes his finger back into you, adding another two, the three thick digits creating a soft stretch as he scissors them, swallowing your moans with a heated kiss. Your eyes almost roll back when he his hand wraps around your throat again, squeezing tightly, the air suddenly thin. He removes his fingers from you, spanking your ass hard before circling your clit, feather light. You buck your hips against him, but he merely smiles.

‘You look so pretty when you’re so flustered. Such a doll.’ He grins, kissing the corner of your mouth as you suddenly stiffen, feeling the ghost of cold metal in the place of his warm, calloused hand.

‘You’re such a doll to me. I don’t deserve you…’ Brooklyn accent washing over you as you tip toe up to tangle your hands in chocolate brown locks…

‘Y/N! Look. At. Me. Who am I? Who do you belong to?’ Grasping a handful of your hair, he yanks tightly as you snap back, unable to sink into the attack, his eyes seeking yours desperately.

‘I belong to you. Erik, please.’

‘Say my name!’

‘Please N’Jadaka, fuck me.’

Softly strokes your cheek, nuzzling your ear, pleased. ‘No.’

He changes the angle of his fingers so that they’re thrusting up, causing your orgasm to build again as you forcefully suck in a breath against his hand around your throat. He stills all movement again, you moan pitifully, the pressure bringing tears to your eyes.

Grinning wickedly, a glint in his eyes, he returns his hands back between your legs, the flesh so swollen and wet, it gleams softly against his skin. Removing them to roll a nipple between his fingers instead, as you arch your back against his hand and he takes your other nipple in his mouth.

He sucks lightly, flicking the tongue over the already sensitive, tender bud. You hum and he bites down slightly harder than before, turning your moan into a cry.

You can feel his cock pulsing against you and the anticipation is both killing and making you dizzy with pleasure. You clench your thighs around his waist, urging him but he doesn’t move. He releases your breasts, his mouth coming up to kiss you, the pillowy softness red and bruised as his hand comes down to play with your clit. He rubs it lightly, alternating between quick flicks and pressing against the very sensitive nub.

[hcwkward]

Magic

Summary: After something of a miscommunication, the truth comes out in a fight.

Ship: Stephen Strange/Reader

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Sexual references

Author’s Notes: Ok, this is way shorter than I intended but I ran out of time, sorry!! This is for the Sinful Secrets Challenge, from @howardpotts​‘ prompt list. Thank you for letting me join in Steeb! It is also for @marvelrarepairbingo for my square ‘magic’

Taglist: @reviewfanfics​

Want to be added to a tag list? Send me an ask!

“Did you two have a fight or something?” Wong’s voice cut through the icy silence of the kitchen, a hint of amusement mixing with the intrigue that rang through on his tone as his gaze flickered between you and Stephen over his cup of tea.

A scoff came from the man at the other end of the table before you even had a chance to offer one of your own, and you couldn’t help the glare you instantly threw in his direction. If anyone had a right to be mad, it was you, not him. But with his attention focused solely on his fingers as he picked at the nails, he missed the outraged look, and the way Wong was now silently sniggering behind his cup. Throwing him a quick glare that dared him to continue put a quick stop to his amusement, and with a pointed gulp, the man seemed to realise that his laughter was not welcomed this particular morning.

“Not yet,” you answered in a cold tone, your anger turning back on its intended target as you used a bit too much force to cut at your food, your knife and fork scratching harshly against the plate beneath. Perhaps it was petty, letting out your anger on anything you could get your hands on, but damn it, you were mad, and if you couldn’t let it out where it was due, well, the plate would have to suffer for now.

“Does this have something to do with the pile of clothes I found in the library this morning?” Wong questioned. You might have questioned the supposed innocence in his tone, or the way his eyes twinkled merrily at the prospect of what was bound to become some quality entertainment, but as it was your attention was far too focused on the words themselves.

“The library?!” you repeated incredulously, with perhaps a touch too much volume if the collective flinch was anything to judge by. But you hardly cared, eyes flashing dangerously towards the man who finally deigned it appropriate to look up from his damned nails to meet your fiery gaze with his own mixture of anger and daring. “You sent my clothes to the library?”

“I was a little distracted,” Stephen replied with false ease, as if you couldn’t see his own emotions in the stiff way he sat, his jaw clenching, grip tightening on his cup. However, as much as your mind desperately wanted to distract you with images of last night, of lingering touches, flesh against flesh in that heated passion that you had come to crave almost as much as the man who gave it, you wouldn’t let yourself get swayed from what had followed.

With a measured breath that you knew would do little to calm you, you rose from your seat, making your way towards the infuriating former surgeon with careful steps lest you give in and rush over to strangle the infuriating man. A touch of pride flittered across your mind as you watched him drink in the sight of you sauntering towards him, even if you hadn’t intended it, his gaze captivated by you in that addictive manner that had led to its fair share of secret rendezvous. But as soon as you stopped before him, his mask was back up, the look of disinterest mixing with a passionate anger that you still couldn’t explain pulling his attention away from your looming figure as he ground his jaw in determination. Clearly he was as likely to let go of whatever had him in a bad mood as you were.

Leaning down so that your palms were flat against the table at his side, allowing you to lower yourself until you met his gaze with your own, you steadied yourself, not quite wanting to scream directly into his face, yet. But you weren’t about to let him off the hook, not after what he had done.

“I had to sneak down the hall naked!” you spoke in a hushed yell, clearly louder than you had hoped judging by the way Wong was now choking on his drink in your peripheral vision.

“You didn’t have to do anything of the sort,” he ground out, throwing a quick glare towards Wong that seemed to finally get him to get the picture that this was not a conversation he was meant to be a part of. With the scuttling sounds of the man leaving the kitchen, that rare laughter of his filling the air as he went, you moved to the chair beside the obstinent man.

“Stephen,” you practically sighed his name, as if you were about to berate a child who didn’t understand what they had done wrong; and in many ways you were. Pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation, almost in preparation for an impending migraine  “You threw my clothing through a portal while we were having sex. What exactly was I meant to do? Take the sheet from you to cover myself? And before you answer that, yes, I bloody did consider leaving you to sleep in the cold for what you did.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes that any teenager would envy, he stood from the table in a sweeping movement, one that, had you not just sat down to discuss things, might have amused you at any other time. But as he dropped his dishes into the sink with a resounding clatter that was altogether too loud for the time of day, he was moving.

It wasn’t until he had reached the doorway that he paused for the slightest of moments, his head hanging low as a heavy sigh caused his shoulders to fall dramatically before you, drawing a hint of guilt from you before you could reign it back in. Without so much as glancing over his shoulder towards you, he kept his gaze firmly on the floor beneath him, a simple sentence falling from his lips that had you in shock.

“You could have stayed.”

[howardpotts]

I love you 500, 1000, 3000.

The very best of friendships are built on a solid foundation of sinning and secrets. So when the three of us reached our respective milestones, we decided it was time to host the Sinful Secrets Challenge.

Every single prompt here is based on sins we and our friends have committed. Some are sexy and some are downright filthy. We hope they’ll inspire you to write something with our favourite characters. All you have to do is send an ask requesting to write your chosen prompt.

And because we want to have even more fun, we want you to try and guess who the sinful secret belongs to. Send us an anonymous ask with your guesses...

Rules

You can only request a prompt from whoever’s list it falls under.

Send an ask to request your prompt.

You must be following the person you request the prompt from (but it sure would be nice if you followed all three of us!).

Please reblog this post if you take part.

You must be at least 18.

You can write about any MCU character.

AUs are most welcome.

No underage ships/ smut, no incest, no noncon, no dubcon.

Include any necessary warnings.

Add a Read More for anything over 500 words.

Tag the person you requested the prompt from and #sinfulsecretschallenge.

Deadline : 31st July

Prompts

Emily’s List: request your prompt from @tranquil--heart​

1. “Good job, soldier.” 2. “My parents walked into my room and found a used condom from my one night stand.” 3. “I gave him a blowjob in an alleyway.” 4. “He fingered me while my friend was sleeping in the same room.” 5. “I went out for dinner with him wearing a trenchcoat and nothing on underneath.” 6. “We had Skype sex.” 7. “I slept with someone my best friend told me not to.” 8. “Father, forgive me for I’m about to sin.” 9. “We work together so we found a spot to make out in where there are no cameras.” 10. “I woke up naked with five other people and we were too drunk to remember what happened last night.” 11. “I need you.” “Now? Here?” “Right here, right now.” 12. “We matched on Tinder. We hooked up and then left.”

Steeb’s List: request your prompt from @themarvelwriter​

13. “We took a group picture in our underwear and sent it to our teacher.” 14. “I had to sneak down the hall naked.” @idiotwithabowandarrow 15. “I met him in a hotel just for sex. And then we both left.” @abovethesmokestacks 16. “We messed around in the confessional booth.” @propertyofpoeandbucky 17. “I made out with an air steward whilst waiting for my flight.” 18. “Do you want something better? Here’s my number.” @msruchita 19. “I partied with Police Academy graduates.” 20. “I’ve given road head.” @brazen88brat 21. “My professor was so hot he used to make all the girls and gays swoon during lectures.” @captain-rogers-beard 22. “We shouldn’t do this… but I’m going to keep kissing you anyway.” @littledarlinwrites 23. “Your fingers are magic.” 24. “We used to meet up and make out in the church basement.” @littledarlinwrites

Fizz’s List: request your prompt from @cametobuyplums​

25. “I posed naked for an older politician whose hobby is photography.” 26. “My friend walked in on me naked and tied to his roommate’s bed.” 27. “We used to sneak around and we almost got caught.” 28. “I took nudes in the church bathroom.” 29. “The guys had to put their IDs in a hat and whoever’s ID you pulled out, you were duct taped to them for the rest of the night.” 30. “Where did you sleep?” “Downstairs in the twin bed.” “And where did he sleep?” “Downstairs… in the twin bed…” 31. “We used to turn drinking games into dirty ones.” 32. “On a movie night with friends, he fingered me under the blanket.” 33. “He taught me how to give a blowjob.” 34. “We got caught doing the dirty in his car.” 35. “He is the first and only man to ever fist me.” 36. “I had sex with a band member in their band van.”

Tagging some mutuals who might be interested under the cut!

@idiotwithabowandarrow @thamuddagirl @antthonys @carol-damn-vers @fvckingavengers @golddaggers @sherrybaby14 @isthiswhattheycallwriting @evanstanwrites @petersshirts

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Forgive Me Father

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Summary: After the first sinful church incident, you would think that the boys would behave from now on. Oh how wrong you were. For @themarvelwriter #SinfulSecretsChallenge. My prompt was "We messed around in the confessional booth."

Warning: smut in church.

A/N:  Can be a spinoff to this fic or be read as a standalone. Again, I’m writing this with the knowledge of how Catholicism works, since I am Catholic.

Ever since Steve and Bucky debauched you in church, you were wary about bringing them with you ever again. But when they promised they wouldn’t do anything during mass again and had looked genuinely sorry, you allowed them to tag along with you for today’s mass. 

So, after walking into the church, blessing yourself with the holy water, and settling in a pew, in the front this time, the three of you behaved appropriately throughout the entire service. 

It was during the end portion of the service, that you started to become weary. Steve’s arm went around you, pulling you closer to him. Bucky proceeded to scoot in closer, nearly smushing you in between the two. 

You look at them cautiously, but then proceed to listen to some final words by the priest. When it’s time to sing the closing song and you all stand, the two’s proximity doesn’t waver. 

With the final note and an applause, people begin to exit the church, but you stay. Why? Because both Steve and Bucky have you trapped in-between them.

“Guys, what-”

“We just wanna show you something, dollface,” a small smirk on Bucky’s lips makes your eyes narrow.

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

Steve chuckles behind you, his front pressed up against your back, “Don’t worry, honey. You’ll like it. Promise.” 

Once the last of the congregation had left the church, Steve and Bucky nod at each other. Bucky’s metal fingers slip into yours and he pulls you along to the other side of the church where the confessional booths are. 

Again, you begin to question, “What are-”

“We’re gonna have a group confession. We scheduled one.”

You seemed to relax, “Oh! Alright.” you follow Bucky inside willingly. The room was small, but big enough to fit the three of you with some room left. Once the door shut behind Steve, it clicked with a lock. You looked at them confused, “I thought this was a confession. Don’t we have to wait for the priest?”

Bucky smirked, licking his lips as he stared at you, a stare filled with a lust, “Oh, dollface, we’re gonna confess alright. Stevie and I are gonna confess all the dirty things we wanna do to ya, right now.”

They both move towards you with a predatory essence, making you walk back until you hit a wall, “You guys promised you wouldn’t do anything-”

“During mass, sweetness,” Steve said with a smug look, “And, correct me if I’m wrong, but mass is over,” he gave a dark chuckle.

You scowled, “You two planned this.”

Bucky shrugged, “Well, I did say we had it scheduled.”

“And,” Steve interjected, “I do recall you once saying that you fantasized doing ‘naughty things’ in the confessional. Ain’t that right, Buck?”

He nodded, “I remember that too, Stevie. So,” Bucky stepped closer to you, his front pressed right up against yours, you could feel his bulge nudging at you, “Whaddaya say, sweetheart?”

A part of you, the logical and religious side of you, wanted to reject. You wanted to oppose this because this was so wrong on so many levels. But....they were right. You did fantasize about doing some “naughty things” in the confessional booth. The church was definitely empty. 

You gulped down and breathed out, “Alright.” Once that word left your lips, Bucky pulled you into a heated kiss. As his lips were on yours, he moved you away from the wall and pressed your back against Steve’s chest. You felt another pair of lips press against your neck, hands roaming your body, getting familiarized with you once more. 

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned, you said in your mind as Steve hiked up your dress and Bucky’s hand slid into your panties. 

“Let’s get you nice and wet, baby girl,” Bucky murmured against your lips. You grinded into his touch while also Steve was basically dry humping you. His lips occupying your neck, hands kneading your breasts. 

“Oh my fucking God,” you moaned and Steve snickered. 

“Saying the Lord’s name in vain? Some good church girl you are, sweetheart.”

You gasped when Bucky inserted a finger into your evergrowing wetness, “Mmmm. Already dripping for us, aren’t ya, baby girl? How ‘bout we get you soakin’, just to ensure you’re ready for us?” he stuck in another finger, your walls stretching around them, and he began to pound his fingers in and out of you. Your hands immediately gripping his shoulders to hold on for dear life. You wrapped one leg around Bucky’s waist, allowing his fingers to move deeper into you.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

“Don’t think God’s gonna help a naughty girl like you, sweetheart,” Steve murmured into your ear before nibbling at it. 

You whined, “Please, no more teasing. Fuck me. Want both of you inside me.”

Bucky smirked as his eyes caught yours, “That your confession, baby? Want us to pound you right here in the confessional?”

You nodded, “Please, Bucky, Steve. Want you two so bad.”

Bucky moved his head to the side to look at Steve, “Whaddaya think, pal, should we give her what she wants?”

“I think she’s been good enough. Deserves a reward.”

Both men quickly worked on their jeans, pushing them down and freeing their cocks that were red, hard, and leaking for you. 

Steve rubbed his tip over your slit, collecting juices along it. Then with his fingers, he scooped up some more, spreading it over his cock, paired up with Bucky’s spit that he was happy to give up. Both wanted to ensure that Steve was wet and slick enough to enter you. 

Bucky sat in one of the chairs, pulling you down with him. Steve stood behind you. With a nod from both men, they slid their hard cocks into you, filling you up in an instant. A collective groan from the three of you echoed in the small confessional. 

“Confess, sweetness, how good do we feel?” Steve moans as you work both of them, Bucky in your pussy and Steve in your ass.

“So fucking good, baby. You both fill me up so well. Love feeling both of you inside me.”

“Goddamn, I love it when we’re like this. Together as one. So fucking sexy,” Bucky grumbled, his metal arm reaching behind you for Steve, their lips meeting in a hot and desperate kiss. 

You whimpered, watching the men you love show affection towards each other. You loved to watch them, their electric raw love mystifying before you. 

Steve pulled away, chuckling, “Feelin’ neglected, Y/N?”

You shook your head, “No. I just love watching you two.”

Bucky smirked, “Hm...maybe once we’re done with you, Stevie and I can have a go at each other while you sit and watch, hm?”

“Oh fuck,” you grumbled at just the thought of it. Your mind imagining how fucking sexy it would be to watch Steve fucking Bucky or Bucky fucking Steve while you sat there playing with yourself while you watched.

A loud smack was delivered to your ass, making you jolt forward. Bucky snickered, “Don’t get ahead of us, sweet thing. Trust me, the real thing will probably be better than what you got brewing in your head.”

You giggled and mumbled a sorry as you nuzzled your face into his neck, your hips still grinding down and against both super soldiers. 

“Might need to bathe in holy water for months after this, huh, sweetheart?” Steve asked, hands grabbing hold of your ass, loving how it jiggles with every thrust. 

You shook your head, “Don’t care. Just want you two. You two always-shit! I’m close!”

“It’s okay, baby, go ahead and cum for us. Let us feel you, come on.” Bucky uses his hands to quicken your pace, the harder and faster you go, the quicker your climax seems to approach. Faster. Harder. Deeper. Rougher.

“Oh my God!” you cry out as your entire body shakes with pleasure, a powerful orgasm coming over you. 

Both of your lovers groan in pleasure and delight as your walls flutter and clench around them. You move roughly against them, desperate to ride out this orgasm as much as you can until it fades and you collapse onto Bucky’s chest. Your own heaving and covered in sweat. 

Your boys still.

“Sweetheart? You okay?” Steve asks cautiously as he nudges your face with his nose. 

You nod, “Yeah. That-Fuck, that took a lot outta me.”

Bucky loving rubbing circles on your back, “Think you can handle Steve and I more or do you wanna sit this one out?”

“I think I’ll sit this out,” you mumble as you lift yourself off Bucky and Steve slowly pulls out of you, carefully helping you to your feet and down onto the chair beside Bucky. You tiredly wave your hand towards them, “You two go ahead and finish each other off. I’ll be okay,” you say with a soft smile.

Steve and Bucky hesitantly move towards each other, giving you another glance. When you give them a nod, they both continue themselves. You watch them in a post orgasmic haze as the loves of your life get lost in sin with each other. 

In the back of your mind, you’re mentally planning of all the prayers and real confessions you need to attend to make up for this. 

[howardpotts]

Hi! I'd like to participate in your #SinfulSecretsChallenge and can i please get 16. “We messed around in the confessional booth.”? -propertyofpoeandbucky

Hi love! 16 is yours! I’m curious of what you’ll make of it. ;) @propertyofpoeandbucky

Sinful Secrets Challenge!

[howardpotts]

It does have open prompts! I can't link right now because I'm on mobile, but if you search on #sinfulsecretschallenge you'll find one of our posts :)

Oh and the deadline is the end of July

anybody know any marvel writing challenges that are going on?

[jobean12-blog]

Oh yes! I loved the build up for these two! Wow. There was so much sexual tension but also a soft sweetness that was so beautiful! And just so hot!!!

Who Knew? - Part 1

Summary: It’s been 5 years since the snap, Bucky doesn’t seem to be coming back. Enters a stranger who is a balm to her soul. Will she dare to love again?

Pairing: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (There’s just a lot of smut, so please, swearing too)

So, I have finally created a proper Marvel fic for the Sinful Secret’s Challenge. My prompt was ‘Do you want something better? Here’s my number.’ from

@howardpotts and also tagging @tranquil–heart and @cametobuyplums

Let me know your feedback and seriously, every like, reblog, comment is appreciated. I always aim to make myself a better writer. So, to stop rattling on, I hope you guys enjoy! Plus, my Taglist is open, but I will stop tagging you if after a few fics; I see no activity from your end

@thesaltyduchess @brazen88brat @lancetuckersmustache

Masterlist

“Enlighten me again, why are we playing Truth or Dare in the middle of a club when we can barely hear each other?!’ Peering intently over your glass at the three people opposite her, you downed the last of your vodka, before choking and gagging on it as everyone around you laughed uproariously. Trying your best to control your own laughter, you set the bottle down as Vesper winked at you before shaking a large silver cocktail mixer.

‘Feeling a little reptilian, in the nastiest way possible? We have you covered with Alligator Sperm! This bright green gator crazy goodness contains melon liqueur, pineapple juice, and yes, a literal splash of cream. Try ordering it at the bar with a straight face like me if you actually have the balls.’ She finished her sales pitch with a poker face as she poured out the  lime green liquid into fresh glasses while Shayan held a small pitcher of cream.

It was busy tonight, the crowd seemed to be thrice more than normal, the reek of booze, sweat and desperation spraying everywhere as you shifted on the slightly sticky leather. None of you ever spoke the truth outside of the group therapy sessions Steve forced you to go to. It was like scraping fresh wounds with salt, hence, every time Truth or Dare was played, it was more Shot or Dare. The latest dare being Vesper had to get a hickey from someone she hadn’t slept with yet; the video now safely in your phone courtesy from the bartender who had been necking her barely minutes ago, the fresh purple of the bruise standing out against her olive skin.

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