#this is smutty smutty smut fest

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

violet soul

a smutty lucifer x reader fic for your enjoyment have fun <3 i feel embarrassed i was able to produce such filth :))))))

triggers warnings: dubious consent (the reader is not sober while giving consent! while they do believe they have given consent, they are not realising they're being manipulated into it!) and just like rough sex i guess haha but nothing requiring a specific trigger warning

hope you enjoy!!!

*slithers back into the void*

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You started having… dreams, recently. Very odd dreams. They feel real, way too real, and you wake covered in sweat, and the only thing you are able to think about is the dream, as if you’re still there. When you manage to fall asleep again, you simply continue where you left off. 

The dreams consume your waking life. You think about them constantly. Images, smells and sounds remind you of them. 

After a few weeks, you visit a therapist and complain about nightmares. She listens and nods sympathetically, and then she asks what the dreams are about. You open your mouth to tell her and find that you can’t. 

“They aren’t about anything, really. They are just… vivid,” you say, feeling embarrassed because of course you know what they’re about. If only you could remember right now. 

She looks at you with confusion in her eyes. “It’s okay, you can tell me,” she says gently. 

You wish you could, but you don’t know. You spend the rest of the session talking about things that don’t matter.

Later, you leave her office with a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. You feel like a woman possessed. 

The second you leave her office you remember the dreams again. 

In your dreams, you wonder aimlessly through a very dark place. Nothing happens, really, but it’s scary. Everything is so vivid, so lifelike. You feel the cold stone underneath your feet, the unbearable heat in the air that makes it hard to breathe, the smell of something rotten, something burning. You can never find your way out. Sometimes, you catch glimpses of… creatures. You always make it a point to avoid them. They pay no attention to you anyhow, but they are disturbing to look at, their faces contorted, deformed, burned, melted. Some have teeth like wild animals, some have no faces at all. You couldn't describe them in detail, really, you never stare. You always feel like there is someone watching you, but when you turn, there is no one around. 

The therapy session feels like a defeat and you call a friend to complain. They are sympathetic. You talk for a while, and you feel better — finally, someone understands you. Maybe you aren’t crazy after all. 

Then she asks you what the dreams are about. You open your mouth and nothing comes out. Your voice is gone. 

“Hello? Do you hear me?” your friend asks. You stare at your phone.

“I’m here,” you say, your voice miraculously returning. “My mom is calling me. I’ll call you later, okay?”

You hang up. You call your mom and another friend. You cannot tell any of them about the nightmares. Either your voice disappears, or you can’t remember a single thing about the dreams. The concern and disbelief in their voices make your stomach churn. You know they don’t believe you. You feel crazy. 

It’s evening already and you are so tired. You have run out of people to call and you’re not sure you’d even want to call anyone anymore. You feel on edge, weeks of poor sleep making you paranoid. You start wondering whether all of this is another nightmare. You try pinching yourself to wake up. It doesn’t work. You curl up on the sofa and turn on the TV, turning the channel to something mindless. 

You don’t notice when you fall asleep.

You are in that place again. A sickly sweet smell of something rotten is filling the air. The dark corridor you find yourself in is long and narrow, lit by torches that cast an orange glow onto the dark stone around you. There are doors all throughout it. You turn around. The corridor seems to be never-ending on both sides. You suppose there is no difference which direction you take, then. As soon as you start walking you see the door in front of you open and a black demon with no face steps onto the corridor. You scream and run in the opposite direction. You hear no footsteps behind you and you know it isn’t following you — they never do — but you can’t make yourself stop running. You run and you run and you run through the never-ending corridor. It’s hard to breathe, the air is so hot and it’s stuffy and you’re feeling dizzy and you hear your heartbeat in your ears, but you never stop. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been running when you find yourself at the end of the corridor. There is a grand door in front of you. Without thinking you try to open it, and it’s so heavy you have to use your entire body weight to push it. 

As you open the door, you find that the air is suddenly lighter. The rotten smell is no longer there, and instead it smells faintly of violets. Violets are your favourite flowers. You inhale deeply, relieved you can finally breathe.

The place you find yourself in is enormous, lit by torches. The ceiling is so high you aren’t sure you can see all the way up to it. You could look around for hours and still not be able to take it all in. As you observe the enormous hall, your eyes catch a glimpse a tall, dark figure standing a few feet away from you. It has huge, black wings. You wonder how you didn’t notice it immediately upon entering. The figure is looking at you. 

You know that’s the Devil. For some reason, you aren’t surprised. 

Somehow, you are now standing next to each other. 

The Devil is beautiful, you think, with their cherubic face and bouncy white curls that seem so soft, almost angelic, and you have to fight the urge run your fingers through them. 

The Devil is tall, so tall. Their stature is elegant, feminine. You admire their broad shoulders, the gentle curve of their breasts underneath their silken red robe, their imposing, black wings.

What really pulls you in are the eyes. It’s not that they’re a lovely cerulean blue, so deep you might get lost in them, it’s that they are looking at your very soul. 

They are the first to speak. 

“Finally, we meet officially, little lamb.”

Their voice sounds like the sweetest sin, silky and smooth and melodious. You find yourself enamoured with it. 

“Are you behind my nightmares?” you ask. 

“How pleasant your stay here is is entirely up to you,” they say and cock their head. 

“What do you mean, my stay here? This is a dream. I am still at home, in my bed,” you say, confused. 

“Not quite. You could be, if you so wished. But you wished to be here, didn’t you?” The corner of their lip curls slightly, as if they find all of this amusing. 

“I haven’t slept in weeks, and you tell me that’s by my own volition? That I wished to be here?” 

You can’t believe your ears.

“Think, little lamb,” they say, their voice sickly sweet. “You have called for me, don’t you remember? You said you were lonely.”

Dread fills you when you realise you do remember. It was a joke, a drunken escapade. You were out with your friends, drinking. You went into the woods. The moon was full. You were, as per usual, the clown of the group, making everyone laugh, complaining how you were the only one without a girlfriend. You climbed onto an old log, and proclaimed, “I would sell my soul to the Devil for a girlfriend! Fuck, I am so lonely!” and you laughed, and everyone laughed. They teased you, saying you surely don’t mean it, and you said, “of course I mean it,” and you spun around, took a swig of the cheap wine you brought along, and called upon the Devil three more times. 

“Tell the Devil I mean it”, you said, “tell her I’d fuck her if she would have me, I am so fucking horny,” and you laughed and everyone laughed, and you were drunk, and you don’t remember the rest of the night or how you got home. The next morning you were so hungover you barely remembered anything that happened. 

Until now. 

“Loneliness is a demon that eats at people. I would know,” they chuckle, the sweetest sound. “Especially humans… Humans crave connection, they simply long for it. And you are lonely,  my sweet little dove, I can feel it.”

“I—” you started, but they interrupt you. 

“Don’t worry, lamb, I am here to help you. That’s why you’ve asked for me, haven’t you?”

You want to tell them you didn’t ask for this, it was a mistake, you didn’t really mean it, you were drunk, you take it back—

Their silky voice cuts through your thoughts. 

“Tell me, would you like to be my friend?”

When the Devil asks you to be their friend you ought to tread carefully. 

“What happens if I refuse the Devil’s offer for friendship?” you ask.

They chuckle. They lean in, impossibly close. You are scared to death, afraid they will hurt you. You squeeze your eyes shut. You feel them in your space, around you, everywhere. Their wings flutter around you. 

They don’t lay a finger on you, however. You feel hot breath on your ear.

“I prefer Lucifer,” they whisper in your ear. You notice that Lucifer smells faintly of violets and burning wood.

“I realise you are reluctant to accept my offer for friendship. However, would you like to take a stroll with me?”

You open your eyes and see them towering over you. A shiver runs down your spine.

You are still unsure. 

“You don’t have to, of course,” Lucifer says, “but it will probably be a while before you wake. Might as well kill the time.”

They do have a point, you think. 

“I guess we can take a stroll,” you say and they grin at you. It’s a dangerous sort of smile. You find it incredibly charming. 

They offer you their arm to lean on. After a second of consideration, you take it. 

Their arm is warm, and as you link yours underneath it you immediately feel safe.

You blink, and suddenly you are in the most beautiful garden you have ever seen. Your mouth gapes open in awe. 

“Are we still in Hell?” you ask. 

“We are indeed. This is where I take my friends.”

You stay silent for a moment, taking in the beauty around you as you walk. Violets are blooming at every step. 

“How did you know violets are my favourite flower?” 

“Oh, are they? A mere coincidence,” says Lucifer and grins widely at you, flashing their white teeth.

You walk together for a while. Their strong arm is supporting you and you can’t help but be enamoured with them. Every once in a while, you feel their wing brush against your back. It sends delicious shivers down your spine. Their white curls are bouncing ever so slightly as they walk and you find yourself staring. They don’t seem to mind. The weirdest thing is, you can’t remember the last time you felt this peaceful. You find yourself thinking you could get used to this.

“Why do you want me as your friend, though?” you ask after a while, “What do you hope to gain from that?”

“Why, I hope gain a friend. And as for why I want you in particular as my friend…” they stop walking and look at you. “I do find your soul utterly captivating.”

“I must admit, I am surprised you haven’t asked what you will gain from our friendship. Don’t you wish to know?” they cock their head ever so slightly. Their piercing eyes are looking at your soul again. You feel naked. You cannot look away.

“Tell me, please,” you say.

“Think of every desire you’ve ever had. Every sinful thought that ever crossed your mind. Everything you never thought you could have. Do it.”

You do it. 

“Did you imagine it?” They take your chin in their hand. You feel your skin tingle under their fingers. They lean in, closer, closer, closer, until their nose is almost touching yours. You feel their hot breath on your lips. 

“It’s yours to have now.”

You feel dizzy. Your chest is heaving. You feel a craving, a desire you can’t name, and you can imagine the sweet gratification of its fulfilment. 

“Everything?” you ask, your voice hoarse. 

“Everything,” they say, and the hot breath that washes over your lips makes you wild. They are still holding your chin. It’s not painful but you can’t move. 

“May I… make a request then?” You are so overcome by desire that you struggle to think.

They chuckle, a puff of heat on your lips. “Greedy girl. You already made your request that night in the woods. But I will humour you. Make one more.”

You barely comprehend what they’re saying. All you feel is desire. Your eyes drift to their wings. 

“May I… touch your wings?”

You want to touch their beautiful wings so badly, but you are waiting for permission. There is a second of silence. To you, it seems like an eternity. 

Finally, they speak. 

“I said, whatever you desire. I fulfil my promises.”

They turn around slowly. You find yourself face to face with their wings. They are jet black, but you can see little veins running through them if you look closely. They seem impossibly smooth. 

You reach as far up as you can and run the back of your fingers all the way to the place where the wings grow out of their back. Lucifer shivers. 

Encouraged by that reaction you repeat the same motion again and again, then mirror it on the other wing with your other hand. Then you run your hands all along the base of their wings. 

Lucifer moans. 

The sound sends a jolt straight to your core. The wave of arousal helps you gather the courage to plant a hot kiss on their right wing. They moan again. You continue to kiss your way to the base of their wings, then all the way down along their spine until you reach the very end of it. The moans they are letting out are unholy. You fall down to your knees, your hands on their hips now. You want to continue your way down, but you are not sure if you’re allowed to. It takes an absurd amount of effort to stop. 

“Can I?” you ask, hoping, praying they will say yes. 

They turn around and look down at you. Their piercing gaze makes you dizzy, makes you want to pray to the Devil. 

They snap their fingers and suddenly you are in that grand hall from before. There is a throne there now and they are sitting on it. You are still on your knees in front of them. 

“Take what you desire,” they say.

“You may touch me here,” they touch their knee, “or here,” they move their hand upwards on their  thigh, “or there,” they slip their hand underneath their red robe. When they pull their hand out their fingers are glistening. You feel your mouth water. 

“Or even there,” they continue, their tone almost nonchalant, as they slowly, deliberately pull the robe off of their shoulders, exposing two small, perfect breasts. “Wherever you wish, my pet.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You start by kissing their leather boot. They seem to like that.

“Yes,” they say, their voice breathy, “worship me.”

And worship them you do. 

You slowly reach underneath their long red robe, running your hands over their boots and then reaching their smooth knees. You spread the robe open and kiss your way up their calves to their knees. You are moving on from their knees to their thighs, leaving a trail of hot kisses on their impossibly soft skin, when they move one of their legs up and put it over the armrest of the throne, spreading themselves in front of you. They aren’t wearing anything underneath the robe and you are met with the sight of their glistening arousal. You barely stop yourself from burying your face in those silky folds immediately — you want to kiss your way up to them, you want to savour it. 

You continue kissing their milky thighs, revelling in the way they feel under your lips. Lucifer’s breathing is getting more ragged by the second. You bite into their thigh. It feels like sin.

“Naughty thing,” they let out a breathy chuckle. “Bite me again.”

You bite their thigh again and they moan. You can’t restrain yourself anymore and you bury your face into their pussy. They grab a fistful of your hair. You suck, you lick, and there is no method to it, only lust. You are overwhelmed by how good their arousal tastes and you just want more, more, more. 

Their wings flutter around you. One of them touches your back, and you remember how much you caressing them made them moan. 

Lucifer is grinding on your face now and it’s so hot you almost don’t manage to pull away. You look up at them and say, “I want to touch your wings.”

“Go ahead, then,” they say. They are ever so slightly out of breath and their gaze is hooded and heavy. 

You climb up into their lap. With one hand you reach between their legs, running your fingers along their wetness, and with the other you start caressing one of their wings. The moan Lucifer lets out as soon as your hand touches their wing is sin itself. You start kissing their neck as you caress the wing with one hand and circle their clit with the other. You keep the motions on their clit steady, but you experiment with touching their wings, squeezing their breasts, alternating between the two, touching different spots, seeing which one makes them moan louder. What sends them over the edge is when you give their wing a hot, open mouthed kiss. They let out a high pitched moan and you feel them tense up underneath you. You continue to touch them until they push your hands away. 

Their orgasm is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed. But still, you desire more, more, more. You feel frenzied and hot all over. 

“Please,” you say, “may I request one more thing?”

“You’ve requested enough things,” they say and push you away from their lap. You fall on the floor. 

“Please, I will do anything.” 

Mistake. But you don’t care. Lust is making you lose your mind.

“Anything? Well, aren’t you a greedy little slut.”

The word sounds sinful when they say it, their gentle voice and angelic face clashing with the crudeness of it on their lips.  

They get up from the throne, silken robe closing around their legs, no longer exposing them. Their breasts are still bared. They tower above you. 

“First you get drunk, like a naughty little girl you are, then you go into the woods and call for Lucifer Morningstar, the Ruler of Hell, like they’re a servant who is here to grant your pathetic little desires.”

You are still on the floor, looking up at them. You feel like you’re about to cry, but you are also still burning with desire, the ache between your legs not waning for a second. It’s almost uncomfortable.

“And now, you ask me to touch you. Greedy, greedy girl,” they sneer. 

“However, to show you I am still interested in being your friend, I will grant your request. Get up.”

You get up as quickly as you can. You feel hot, way too hot. You feel a throb between your legs, uncomfortable, unrelenting. You wonder if that’s what happens when you fuck the Devil. 

They grab your jaw. “You like it when I do that, don’t you?”

You want to nod, but you can’t, their grip is too strong. “Yes,” you say instead.

“Let me tell you a little secret, as your friend.” They lean in. Smell of violets overwhelms you. “I like it too,” they whisper. Their hot breath on your ear almost makes you fall apart.

They let out a melodious chuckle and kiss your neck. You shiver, but you feel like you’re on fire.

“Oh, poor thing,” they coo at you. “I haven’t even started yet, and you are already falling apart. Tell me, pet, what made you think you’d be able to endure being fucked by me, hm?”

“I… didn’t think that. I didn’t think anything, I was drunk—” you say, feeling embarrassed.

“Oh, but you did, sweet lamb. You said it yourself. Tell the Devil I mean it, tell her I’d fuck her if she would have me, I am so fucking horny.” Their voice is sickeningly sweet. “Well, what if she would have you, hm? What would you do then?”

“I—I don’t know.” You can only think about the ache between your legs. 

“Hm. Well, then I shall have to fuck you and see.”

They bite into your neck. You cry out. They grab a fistful of your hair and pull you towards themselves, clashing your lips together. They forcefully slip their tongue into your mouth, claiming you, making you theirs. You can barely breathe. 

They snap their fingers and suddenly you’re naked. If this was any other scenario, you’d feel self conscious, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You are consumed by lust and you feel like you’re going crazy. 

They break the kiss. “You wanted me to touch you. Like this?” 

You gasp when they slap you. You hate yourself for liking it. 

“You like that, I know,” they say softly, “but it’s not enough. You still need more. Tell me, what would you do for more?”

“Anything.”

You’re burning. 

“Anything? Oh, I do hope you mean that.” 

They lean in and kiss the cheek they just slapped, the softest, warmest kiss that makes you tingle. It feels like heaven. They run their hands over your breasts, squeezing them with gusto, then pinch and twist your nipples forcefully, making you yelp. 

“Will you be my friend, then?” they ask sweetly, pulling you closer and squeezing your ass, making you moan.

You are too dizzy and too hot to form sentences. They spank you forcefully. You moan again, louder this time.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, yes, anything,” you say. 

They smile. It’s lecherous and it sends a shiver straight to your core.

“Finally, pet. But you have kept me waiting for far too long. I feel like some sort of punishment must be in order.” 

They snap their fingers again and you find yourself bent over their knee as they sit on their throne.

“Thirthy-three strikes. Count.”

They don’t give you even a second to process the command before they start spanking you. You lose count immediately, only aware of the delicious jolts to your core each time they spank you. 

“I said, count.” They spank you so forcefully you see stars. A single tear rolls down your cheek. “Now look what you’ve done, I have to start all over again.” 

They start spanking you again, and this time you count. It gets harder towards the end, and you can't stop yourself from crying. Your pussy is throbbing with need— you’ve never experienced anything quite that intense — and each slap on your red ass makes you flinch. Pain and pleasure mix in a delicious way and it’s overwhelming, but you still need more. 

“Thirty-three,” you finally cry out as they spank you for the last time. 

Not giving you a second to recover, they pull you up into their lap with ease. You wince in pain as your ass touches their thigh. 

“Aw, poor baby,” they say mockingly. “Let me dry those tears.”

They catch one of your tears with their finger and put it in their mouth. They moan in pleasure at the taste. 

“Delicious. Try it.” They catch another tear, ever so gently, then slip two fingers into your mouth.

“Suck.” 

You obey.

“See, you can be a good girl when you want to,” they say gently. “Yes, such a good girl.”

You melt at their praise. It makes you warm all over. They pull their finger out of your mouth with a wet pop. 

They kiss you again, this time softly, delicately. They run their nails over your back, the most gentle of touches, but it makes you shiver and burn and shake. They put one hand on your neck, tangle it into your hair, bringing you closer, closer, closer, while the other hand finds itself on your waist. They slip their tongue in your mouth, and you lose yourself in their touch. You don’t know where you end and where Lucifer begins anymore, and that ache between your legs feels like actual hellfire. Maybe it is actual hellfire. Maybe that’s what happens when the Devil fucks you. You don’t know.

Their hands are everywhere, and you aren’t sure how many hands there are anymore, and you don’t know where you are, you don’t know who you are — the only thing you are aware of is Lucifer and fire, fire, fire between your legs. 

“Yes, my sweet lamb, moan for me,” they purr, and you are surprised to realise you are moaning rather loudly and unabashedly. You are barely aware of your actions, no longer in control of your body.

After an eternity of delicious agony, their fingers graze your clit. You feel like you’re about to fall apart.

They circle your clit, agonisingly slowly, and you wail. You tangle your fingers into their soft hair, trying to hold onto something to keep yourself from falling apart. 

“Oh, darling, I am barely touching you,” they say sweetly. “I do have to ask you before you lose yourself completely, do you want to stay here with me?”

You can barely comprehend what they’re saying. “Stay?” you manage to utter through your moans. You try to rut against their hand, but they grab you by the hips, holding you still. 

“Yes, lamb, stay still for a second longer, yes, that’s it,” they coo at you. “Good girl. Yes, will you stay here with me forever? For all eternity?”

“Eternity…?” 

There is a distant alarm going off somewhere in your head, but you can’t pull yourself together long enough to think rationally. They run their fingers over your wet slit and suddenly there are no more thoughts left in your mind. 

“Yes, my sweet. An eternity of pleasure, an eternity of this,” they hiss as they slip a finger inside of you. You grip their hair tighter, afraid you will fall apart. You have never experienced pleasure as intense as this. 

“Yes,” you say, “yes, yes, yes, please, yes. I want you so much, oh please, fuck—”

They start pumping their finger in and out, slowly, hitting just the perfect spot, but it’s not enough, you need more. 

“More, please, more, aah—” you scream as they slip another finger and start fucking you forcefully. It’s the most intense pleasure you’ve ever experienced. 

“Do we have a deal, then?” they ask, completely calm and collected as they fuck you into oblivion. 

If you were in your right mind, you would have been wary of making any sort of deal with the Devil. If you were in your right mind, you would have realised your fate was sealed that night in the woods and that they had you all along. But considering the Devil is currently kuckle deep in you, you have no chance. They know that. They simply enjoy toying with their prey. 

The only thing you manage to do is to scream an ear-piercing “yes” as you come. 

When you come down from your high, the fire you felt before is no longer between your legs, and it is no longer pleasant. It is in your soul. The air no longer smells of violets — it smells like rotten flesh. 

Lucifer gives you their sweetest smile. They look like a true cherub, the prettiest of angels. 

“Welcome to Hell, sweet lamb.”

[buck-star]

He’s so ‘daddy’ | L.H

>> Logan sends you a picture of himself to tease you. Unfortunately, your friends see it too and they agree that he looks just so ‘daddy’. <<

Pairing: Boyfriend!Logan Howlett x Girlfriend!Reader

Wordcount: 4.366 Words

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+, fluff, bit of embarrassment, dom!Logan (but just before sex, during sex he’s a needy little thing who needs his girls pussy), soft!Logan, established relationship, pet names [kitten, honey, princess] age gap, daddy kink (but not really?), smut [praises, slow sex, soft sex, oral (fem!rec), unprotected p in v, hint of breeding kink]

Authors Note: This is for you @elixirfromthestars because thank you for listening to me while drooling over that picture. Also the biggest thank you to @holylulusworld for reading and telling me it’s oke that way! Dividers made by me.

Events: Written for the smutty September/October fest hosted by @mercurial-chuckles [slow sex, it isn’t the whole prompt but it’s fitting!],

Your phone vibrated next to you as you sat in the living room with your girls. You didn’t know if you wanted to look at it or not — knowing damn well it was Logan who sent you something. And even if he knows that your girls are there, he doesn’t miss a chance to make you go crazy.

“Your phone… You got a message, don’t you want to check?” One of the girls asked and smiled nicely at you. They all knew that you usually checked immediately to see if it may have been an important message, but this time was different. They all suddenly looked at you with confused and curious expressions before the girl spoke up once again. “You always check to see if it’s important; do you have secrets?”

You chuckled and shook your head. Your phone vibrated again, and you couldn’t keep ignoring it. Logan would write you message after message until you looked at your phone. And maybe it was important then?

With a soft nod, you took your phone and unlocked it, keeping your screen to yourself as much as possible so none of them could see it. But unfortunately for you, your friends were way too curious to let you hide anything from them, especially after your strange behavior.

You tapped on his messages, immediately getting greeted by a picture of your boyfriend. But it wasn’t just a picture; it was Logan in his black sweatpants and nothing else. His chest was hairy as usual because you adored the softness of his short locks. His muscles were highly defined, and even his veins were visible — a view that made you drool every single time. And Logan knew it, so he did it on purpose.

A gasp next to you pulled you back into reality. Your eyes widened as you felt one of your friends way too close to you. Her eyes were scanning the screen, and her mouth dropped open as she looked slowly over at you.

“Fuck. You— you hide that from us?” Before you could answer her question or react to her taking your phone, the others were already gasping for air too. Their eyes went just as wide as they stared at your phone, then at you.

Heat crept up your cheeks. Their open mouths were turning pretty fast into mischievous grins as they placed your phone between them on the table. Without having another look at one another, they inspected your boyfriend, talking about his handsome body, his pepper and salt beard, and his hairy chest.

“Those veins, haven’t seen a man with those damn visible veins before,” one muttered underneath her breath. They zoomed in on some parts of the picture, talking about it like it was a masterpiece drawn by someone famous, while you slid back in your seat and felt yourself becoming smaller.

But at the same time, you felt a pang of possessiveness, love, and pride growing in your chest. They admired your boyfriend; they couldn’t get him because you knew Logan loved you more than everything. And even though they inspected that picture in every little detail, you knew that he wanted exactly that, but he was still all yours.

“Bet this chest hair is so fluffy, isn’t it?” One of them asked before they all looked in your direction. You smiled softly before nodding. Logan’s sweet curls were so comfy, a little scratchy when he trimmed them, but when he didn't, they were like you had a teddy bear underneath you.

“A bit like a big bear. Pretty comfy, but all mine,” you smirked at them. They laughed lightly, turning their faces back to your screen to look at your boyfriend's picture a while longer. You looked from the other side of the table at your phone as well, knowing that you would be the one who would be with him in bed later. Cuddled up into him while you placed your head on his chest, you were the one who was able to feel the softness and thickness — the contrast of his curls and his muscles underneath you while his strong arms would be wrapped around your smaller frame.

Compared to Logan, you were pretty small, not just because of his muscles but also because of his height. This man was huge, perfect to curl himself around you and keep you safe and sound in his perfect, warm embrace. Or when you went out, he was able to reach the shelves you couldn't; his arms were wrapped around your waist every now and then, and he would place his chin on top of your head. He was a soft bear, and you were his precious kitten.

“He’s so daddy…” one of your girls said and finally pushed your phone back toward you. You chuckled and nodded; of course he was. It wasn’t just the age difference but him. Logan was literally screaming ‘daddy’ when he just stood in front of you. So you couldn’t blame them for thinking just like you.

Little did you know that your boyfriend was walking down the stairs and just walked into the room as you pushed your phone back into your pocket. The moment one of the girls noticed him, she whispered to the others, and suddenly all eyes were on him.

You turned around slowly, smiling softly at him as he walked closer toward you. He wore a tight shirt, which made you squirm in your seat slightly. Logan placed his big hands on both sides next to you on the backrest, leaning down.

While your friends watched, he brought one of his hands to your chin, tilting your head back so he could press his lips easily onto yours. It was just a peck, but it was enough for your eyes to flutter shut and for you to keep them close a moment longer. Logan’s breath moved over your chin to your cheek until it reached your ear and you shivered.

“Did I hear ya right, honey?” He asked, his voice low and barely above a whisper. Only you were able to hear it, and you nodded — intoxicated by his soft touches, his warm breath against your skin, and his rough voice. Logan chuckled before pecking your lips once again and standing up straight, looking at your friends. “Hi, how long is ya lil’ meeting? Need my girl to get some things done.”

They smirked at you, enjoying the effect Logan had on you. One of them winked with a knowing grin before she moved and got up from the chair she sat on. “Actually, we just wanted to go.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. While Logan grinned, he watched your friends intently when they moved to the floor to get their shoes and jackets. You followed them, glaring at your boyfriend for doing such a show in front of your friends. You weren’t mad at him; you even needed to feel him — especially now — but it’s all just because of the damn picture he sent you and the fact that he just made you all squirmy and needy in front of your friends.

You sighed when your friends left the house; the door closed behind them, and you turned around, shrieking. Logan was suddenly standing in front of you, maybe an inch between the two of you. Your eyes moved from his muscular chest up to his face, lingering on his plump lips before they muted further to his green eyes.

“Did ya enjoy it? Ya friends did. ‘m so ‘daddy’, huh, do ya think that too, kitten?” He purred; his strong hands were reaching out to grasp you by your hips and push you back against the door. Logan didn’t waste a second before pushing himself against you. His face was only inches away from yours.

Your breather hitched, earning a low growl out of the depths of Logan’s throat. His eyes were piercing into yours, and his tongue was darting out, licking across his plump lips. His fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your hips, holding you in place as he waited for you to answer his question.

“Y-you—“ you interrupted yourself, swallowing down the lump in your throat. Admitting it out loud that you thought about it for so long was different and more difficult than admitting it to yourself. Letting your fantasies run wild was something you were pretty good at, but saying it out loud? Telling your boyfriend that he’s so daddy? So you swallowed thickly once again and nodded at him before mumbling the rest of your answer. “You are, Logan.”

He growled, sending another shiver down your spine. You felt your arousal pooling out of you, ruining your panties. Unfortunately, Logan smelled it, and he loved it — the effect he had and that he knew exactly how you felt and what you needed. His enchanted senses were sometimes so useful for him, especially when he could smell your sweetness and the mess you made for him.

“Am I, didn’t sound like that when ya jus’ answered my question, honey,” he spoke in a quiet and teasing tone. Oh, he enjoyed this little game between the two of you — just like cat and mouse — or maybe just like a predator and its sweet little prey.

“Y-you are, Log—“ He made you shut up when you wanted to say his name again. Logan's fingers were pressing almost painfully into your hips, and you hissed, looking at him with confusion in your eyes. He raised an eyebrow; he knew that you knew exactly what he wanted, the confused only there because you tried to believe it was something else. But deep down, you knew what he wanted you to say. “Lo— y-you are, daddy.”

“There ya go. Such a good girl, aren’t ya?” Logan praised you, loosening his grip around your waist slightly. He grinned at you, his eyes darkened, and he licked his lips once again. “Wasn’t that hard, was it? With ya little friends, ya would say it, but with me — with ya daddy — ya’re all shy, honey?”

Logan smirked at you as he noticed the flustered expression on your face. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. Without a word, you did that; your arms were holding yourself around his neck as he carried you into the house and up the stairs to your shared bedroom. While you made yourself ready for an evening and night filled with begging, whining, orgasm denial, and hard fuck — your boyfriend had another idea of tonight's activities, but he won’t tell you; he didn’t want the fun to be ruined by you knowing his plans already.

He placed you back on your feet when you reached the bedroom. Logan closed the door; he always did — once you asked him why, and he told you that no one could interrupt you, even though you were living in a house, just the two of you. And you were pretty sure that no one would come into the room when they heard you. But on the other side, it had something intimate and sweet; you couldn’t quite explain it; it just felt like that.

As he turned back around, his expression was way softer than before; his eyes were still glistening with lust, but it was something sweeter. Even after the time you were together already, you sometimes couldn’t figure your boyfriend out. It made things more interesting and exciting for you.

“Take ‘em off, except your panties,” he said with a slightly hoarse voice. His eyes were glued to yours, taking in every little movement and even just the way your expression could change at his soft demand. For the slightest moment, your eyes flickered with some mischievousness and playfulness, and you considered to do as he said or tease him and either keep on your clothes so he had to take them off. Or that you would strip out of your clothes completely. “Need ya to be good and do as I said. Take off ya clothes but keep ya panties on, kitten.

You did as he said, unbuttoning your pants and taking off the hoodie — that actually belonged to Logan. You placed it all to the side before turning back to your boyfriend. Logan watched you intently; his green eyes were roaming over your body and taking in every bit of you he could get. With narrowed eyes, he leaned closer to you.

“I said take ‘em off, except your panties,” he groaned in his low voice. You whimpered, pressing your thighs together to try and soothe the aching in your cunt. He smirked at you, waking a few steps closer before he towered over your smaller frame.

Logan was still fully dressed, and it made everything even hotter. His big fingers hooked into the straps of your bra, slowly tracing along them before he reached your back and opened it. With a low growl, he pushed the straps off your shoulders until the fabric fell down on the ground. “Better, isn’t it, princess?”

You nodded; your lips were slightly parted. Logan used that opportunity to bring one of his hands to your cheeks, capturing it while he ran one of his thick fingers over your soft, warm lips. The roughness of his skin compared to the softness he touched you with made your knees buckle. Your boyfriend immediately wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“Looks like ya have some trouble standing here, kitten,” he grinned at you. His voice was filled with affection but also a bit of amusement as he walked you backwards to the bed. When the back of your knees hit the frame of the bed, you automatically let yourself fall down on it.

Logan’s prominent, big bulge was visible through his pants. You wanted to place your fingers on his crotch and roam them over the outline of his hard cock, but he stopped you when his hands reached for his belt.

“L-L-,” you whined, feeling so desperate and needy. You couldn’t form a proper sentence, your thoughts running wild with whatever he had in mind for the two of you — it was clear what he wanted. But you also knew that your boyfriend was happy to try out new things with you.

“Sh, I’ve got ya, princess. Just be good and wait, can ya do that?” Logan asked, earning a soft nod with a pout from you. He smirked, trailing his thumb over your lips once again before he stripped out of his clothes as well.

It took you way too long for him to get naked but you couldn’t move. So you were sitting on the edge of the bed, watching your boyfriend intensely, admiring his high-defined muscles, the soft hair on his chest and belly, and especially the veins running over his arms, one of which was from his belly button down into his boxer briefs.

“Daddy, ne-need to…” You trailed off as he stepped closer to you. He only wore his boxers, standing between your slightly spread legs. Logan’s bulge was the same high as your face, and your eyes moved from his covered cock to the vein. “C-Can I like it, please?”

“Go ahead, kitten.” You didn’t waste a second, leaning your head forward until your forehead touched his abs. Your lips trailed along the vein, peppering soft kisses over it, down to the waistband of his boxer briefs before you kissed back up to his belly button, continuing it for a few more times.

You didn’t know his bulge could grow even more, but it did, pressing against your throat. You whined as you leaned back, looking with innocent and widened eyes at your boyfriend.

“Such a good girl, aren’t ya?” He asked, running his fingers through your hair. Logan pushed himself against you, his crotch pressing against your mouth. A low groan left his plump lips as he felt your warm mouth around it through the fabric of his boxers. “Lay down, honey.”

You did as he told you, crawling further onto the bed until your head was comfortably placed in the pillows; your forearms were holding you up while you watched Logan stripping out of the last piece of fabric he wore. Then he turned around and climbed between your legs onto the bed as well. He ripped your panties into pieces and threw them somewhere into the room.

Logan used his big hands to spread your legs further apart, moving closer to your center. He smirked at you, noticing the fog of neediness in your eyes. You were still looking at him, his expression lovely and with so much adoration, that he considered just sitting down and letting you stare at him like that a while longer. But the pre-cum that dripped from his red tip slowly rolled down his shaft and made him realize how much he really needed to be inside his sweet, perfect cunt.

“Logan, please,” you whimpered. Your pussy was throbbing, and the sight of his leaking cock wasn’t helping you either. He brought his hands to your thighs, stroking them slowly, inching further up from your knees to your pussy, but then moved back to your knees. He didn’t want to tease you — even though he knew he did — but he wanted to make it special for the two of you. He wanted to make it slow, lovely, soft, and full of passion.

He leaned down, his lips hovering above your cunt. His breath hits your soft skin, making you shiver and whine underneath him. And Logan loved it — the effect he had on you, the way you let him do it without pushing him to finally touch you or fuck you properly.

“Such a good girl for me,” he muttered against your skin before finally leaning further down to kiss your lower belly. A moan fell from your parted lips, and you let yourself fall into the pillows behind you as he trailed down to your pussy. His fingers were sliding along your thighs, kneading the soft flesh slightly before they grasped them to hold then spread apart. Logan dipped his head down, pressing his nose between your folds while he inhaled your sweet scent deeply. “Literally a pillow princess, aren’t ya? And smelling so fuckin’ good, can’t wait to get a taste of ya, princess.”

You giggled about his joke. You knew damn well that you weren’t a pillow princess, at least not when it came to the real meaning of the word. But when it came to Logan’s meaning of the word? Then you sure were a pillow princess — his princess between pillows!

Logan licked through your folds, groaning softly against you. The vibrations were making you moan softly; your hands were flying into his hair to push him further to where you needed him most. His lips peppered soft kisses along your wetness and your thighs before he licked another strap from your entrance to your clit.

“Logan, please,” you whined, arching your back. He smiled against your folds, heeling his cock hardening even more. Logan needed everything in him to not hump the bed and cum like a teenager. Your taste was just too good; he could spend hours between your legs and couldn’t get enough of you.

He dipped his tongue into you, circling your entrance again before pushing in once more. The clenching of your pussy made him go crazy; he just needed you to feel him. He needed you so bad — even though he wanted to taste you first, Logan just needed to feel your perfect pussy around his length.

“Kitten, I make this up to you; I will make you cum on my tongue all you want, but right now, I just need to feel you,” Logan whined. It was a sound you haven’t heard often before, but it made him even cuter and hotter. He just wanted you to call him daddy, and now he’s whining.

“It’s okay, Lo,” you giggle. Then he settled himself down on his knees between your still-spread legs. Logan grasped his cock, running it through your folds a few times. Every time his tip was bumping against your clit it made both of you moan.

He shifted slightly, holding himself above you with one of his hands before he lined his cock up. He didn’t even have much resistance as he pushed in — slowly. Logan moaned and threw his head back as your pussy was gripping his length tightly, sucking him deeper into your tightness.

“Fuck… ya feeling so good. So fucking good, mhm…” he mumbles under his breath. Logan slides inch by inch into you, stretching you perfectly to create a flawless mix of pain and pleasure. You whimper when he finally bottoms out, the tip of his perfect cock kissing your cervix. “Made for me, honey. Ya’re fuckin’ made for me, princess.”

Logan leaned over you, his chest pressing against yours. He lowered his head to hide his face in the crock of your neck while he kissed your skin there softly. His breath was heavy against you, and you smiled at him. You placed your hands on his back, running your fingers slowly over his muscles while he slowly moved his cock out of you.

“So perfect, kitten, so perfect,” he whispered, pushing as slowly as possible back into you. Your walls were clenching so tightly around him, it took everything in him to not bust a nut immediately. Logan lifted his head to glance at you with a soft smile, his green eyes piercing into yours as he kissed along your jaw up to your lips. “My precious, precious princess.”

You chuckled about him, squeezing his cock even further. Logan closed his eyes and growled, which turned into a moan as he pulled out of you before pushing back into you. It was so sweet, soft, and delicious that your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He knew exactly how to turn you into a puddle underneath him.

“Please, need more,” you whimpered. A soft moan left your lips as he thrusted his hips against yours once again. He didn’t speed up his movements, but he lowered himself more onto you, pressuring you with his weight into the mattress of your shared bed.

Logan didn’t fuck you; he made love to you. He didn’t mind that he got needier with every clench of your pussy or that your arousal was leaking out of you and against his balls. Your boyfriend kissed you senseless while his cock was hitting your cervix with every movement into you. Low moans slipped past his lips, his breath hitching when he felt you closer by the edge of your release.

“Feel that? Feel my cock in ya belly. So deep, so fuckin’ deep. Need ya, princess, need ya to come for me, please." Logan breathed out against your swollen lips. He brought his hands to both sides of your body next to your shoulders. You heard the sound of ripping sheets and the familiar sound of his claws pushing deep into the mattress.

You giggled, running your fingers up to caress his soft locks. Your nails scratched over his scalp before you pulled him by his hair closer to you. Logan groaned, throwing his head against your shoulder as he pulled almost completely out of you before he thrust forward and into your tightness with more force than before.

“Please, please, honey. Need ya to come for me, please. ‘m so close, princess,” he whimpered. Logan pushed his pelvis more into yours, the dark curls that lead to his cock inside of you. Your clit was beyond stimulated by his pubic hair, and within a few thrusts your fingers were digging into his shoulders, leaving red marks. Your pussy tightening around him, hugging him as tight as possible while you moaned loudly.

Logan’s cock twitched inside of you, his breath getting heavier, his heart hammering just like yours. His heart was beating in the same rhythm yours was beating. And you breathed into his mouth, kissing him hungrily but soft as he came inside of you. His claws were ripping the sheets as he pumped his seed deep into your belly.

He let himself fall into you completely, not even trying to hold himself up as he kissed you back, moaning and panting. With his thick cock, he was holding his cum inside of you, his eyes closed as he pulled back from the kiss and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Such a good girl. Takin’ my cock and cum always so well, honey. My perfect, precious kitten,” he murmured breathlessly against your neck. “Love ya so much, honey. Gonna keep my cum deep inside of ya to make sure to knock ya up, my princess.”

“I love you too, Logan,” you mumbled while you ran your hands through his soft but sweaty hair. He growled into your neck, removing his claws out of the mattress and sheets, and chuckled softly.

“Guess we need new sheets. Remember those fluffy ones ya saw? I guess we should get those,” he mumbled, feeling you laughing softly underneath him. Logan knew that you loved these fluffy sheets for autumn and winter times. They felt like your boyfriend's curls on his chest and stomach. So you wouldn’t just feel Logan’s soft hair but also the sheets that felt just like him — kinda more Logan cuddling with you.

“But you won’t ruin these!” You muttered, knowing that he would do it anyway. But to his defense, he always got you new sheets and even some new mattresses every now and then.

“Can’t help myself when I have such a pretty girl, honey.” Logan said, kissing your neck. He felt you shivering when his soft lips touched your skin. But he also knew that you recently raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not talkin’ to my pussy right now, princess. I talk to ya, ya’re jus’ so perfect and sweet, honey. All mine, all jus’ mine — ya heart tells me, it’s beating jus’ like mine.”

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Taglist: @pono-pura-vida @sergeantbarnessdoll @rogersbarber @kimmie113080

[buckets-and-trees]

Camaraderie

Characters/Pairings: raunchy!Bucky x curvy!female reader Word Count: 3.4k Summary: Meeting up with the impossibly hot guy from the thirsty to fuck dating app didn't turn out to be a one-time thing... Hooking up with Bucky Barnes wasn't healthy, and you couldn't quit the habit, but he's so good at what he does, you can't resist the itch for him when it needs to be scratched.

Content Warnings: modern AU, hook up culture/bootycall, established sexual relationship, explicit and rough smut, oral (male and female receiving)/deep throating, 69, vaginal fingering, some overstimulation, multiple orgasms, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, humiliation, degradation (use of "slut"/"whore"), use of "baby" as a term of endearment, praise, general dirty talk, cum play/marking, taking photos, aftercare

Author Notes: This is a follow-up to Parking Lot Chem, but can absolutely be read as a standalone and/or out of order.

Logistical Notes: My September/final offering for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo 23-24 using the ANTI-HERO and AFTERCARE prompts. I'm also submitting this for @steviebbboi's 200 Follower Celebration (kink prompts: oral sex, overstimulation, mild degradation, dialoge prompts bolded) and @mercurial-chuckles's SMUT-BER fest (prompt: marathon session).

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You know you should never text Bucky Barnes.

Daytime you knows he’s horrible for you.

A relationship would go nowhere with him.

You know it. He knows it.

You’ve both been very clear this is only sex.

Dirty, late night hook ups.

The next morning, you’re always resolved that last night was the last time.

But you don’t delete his number.

He gives you space. So much space. There’s no pressure, and that’s one of the reasons you don’t close the door completely.

Sometimes he initiates a conversation, sometimes it’s you. It goes about four to six weeks like clockwork.

And always after midnight.

Tonight it’s you who sent up the bat signal.

YOU: Hey! It’s been a while! How’ve you been?

HIM: Not bad… How’s life for you?

YOU: Also not bad. I moved - pretty close to where you work, actually…

YOU: You working tonight?

HIM: Got a new job actually. Still night shift, but building security downtown.

YOU: Oh, that’s good though, right?

HIM: Better gig, better pay. Still bad hours, but our fun doesn’t have to end…

YOU: Oh?

HIM: Let me come over when I get off and I’ll get you off.

There’s literally nothing romantic about it.

But you’re aching for a good fuck.

And that’s why you agreed to let this man you’ve been hooking up with in the dead of night in a parking lot for the last eight months to show up for a bootycall between two and three am.

Because it was going to be so late, you told him where the spare key was, told him to let himself in, to come to your bed, and to wake you up when he got there.

The forbidden thrill of that arrangement gave you a bit of a second wind, but when you’d tucked yourself back in bed and done a bit of doom-scrolling, your eyes had eventually drooped and you’d dropped into sleep.

You stir a little bit as you are nudged onto your back, but it’s when Bucky starts in on aggressively groping your breasts, having immediately pushed up the silk camisole you put on, that you groan and come to.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness. Bucky's silhouette looms over you, his calloused hands cold against your skin as he roughly kneads your tender flesh. A shiver runs through you, desire pooling low in your belly.

"Missed these tits," he growls, voice husky with desire.

You arch into his touch, your body responding even as your mind struggles to catch up. Bucky wastes no time, his hot mouth latching onto a nipple. You gasp at the sensation, your hands instinctively flying to Bucky's hair. He bites down, just hard enough to make you whimper, before soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Fuck, Bucky," you moan, already breathless.

He releases your breast with a wet pop, moving to give the other the same treatment. He sucks hard, teeth grazing your sensitive peak, and you whimper. His other hand slides down your body, groping at your pussy over your silk shorts.

“You put these on special for me, yeah?” he probes, and you nod. “Such a whore, though,” he continues. So desperate to let me use you that you told a fucking stranger how to get into your house so he could ruin you.”

His words make you clench around nothing, desperate for him to ruin you just like you know he can. Bucky chuckles darkly when you mewl as he grinds the heel of his palm over your clothed clit.

"Such a needy little slut," he murmurs approvingly. "Bet you've been thinking about my cock all night."

"Took you long enough to get here," you whine.

He doesn't respond, just crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. His stubble scratches your chin, sending tingles down your spine. You clutch onto his bulky arms. His mouth is minty - either gum or mouthwash or mints popped at the last minute - but the rest of him just smells like sweat and faint musk. You doubt he even owns cologne. His body and the way he uses yours are why you don’t fight the itch when it flares up for nights like this.

Bucky breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck. He bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder, surely leaving a mark. You gasp, arching into him.

"Gonna use you so good," he growls against your skin. "Gonna fuck you 'til you can't walk straight."

"God, yes," you moan, spreading your legs wider in invitation.

Bucky hooks his fingers into the waistband of your silk shorts, yanking them down roughly along with your panties. The cool air hits your heated core and you shiver. Bucky's hand slides up your inner thigh, his calloused fingers teasing your sensitive skin.

"Already so wet for me," he growls approvingly as he cups your sex. "Such a dirty girl."

You whimper as he slides two thick fingers inside you without warning, pumping them slowly. His thumb circles your clit, building the pressure steadily. Your hips buck against his hand, chasing more friction.

"Please," you gasp, clutching at his muscular shoulders.

"Please what?" Bucky asks, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside you that makes you lose all shreds of dignity around him.

"Please give me your fat cock, Bucky!” you beg.

He chuckles again. “I bet you’re such a good girl in the day where everyone else can see you, but you crave this - you crave the depraved things I do to you in the dark. That’s why you’re so fast to beg for me already.”

You moan, and your body trembles with anticipation as Bucky's other hand roams over your chest, then grips your neck, rough and possessive.

He squeezes slightly, and you whimper. “Please,” you croak out.

He withdraws for a moment, but you bite back any sounds of protest as you hear the rustling of fabric, clang of a belt, and the pull of a zipper as he quickly sheds his clothes.

He sits back on his heels, looking down at you as you squirm, holding his thick, hard cock. You lick your lips at the sight, your pussy clenching in anticipation. Bucky strokes himself a few times with the hand that had been in your cunt moments before, spreading your wetness along his length.

"Don’t worry, baby," Bucky coos. "I'm gonna give you exactly what you need."

With his other hand, he grips your arm and pulls you down so you lay sideways across the mattress. You’ve only ever hooked up in his truck, so the freedom of space adds an element of mystery to what hell do with you, and you love it. He kneels with thighs on either side of your head, looming over you, and then he slaps your face with his cock.

You gasp at the sudden contact, and he hits you with it a couple more times. Bucky grins down at you wickedly, clearly enjoying your shock.

"Open up, slut," he grunts.

You obey eagerly, parting your lips as he guides his cock into your mouth. He doesn't ease into it, instead shoving himself deep until you gag around his length. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe through your nose.

Bucky holds your head in place with his thick thighs, his hips pistoning as he fucks your face mercilessly. The wet, obscene sounds of your gagging fill the room, mingling with Bucky's grunts of pleasure.

"That's it, take it all," he groans, pushing even deeper.

You relax your throat as best you can, letting him use your mouth with abandon. He leans forward, pushes your thighs apart, and buries his face in your cunt.

You moan around Bucky's cock as his tongue laps at your folds, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. He sucks hard on your clit, making your hips buck involuntarily. The dual sensations of his thick length stretching your throat and his skilled mouth on your pussy are overwhelming.

Bucky's stubble scrapes against your inner thighs as he devours you, his left hand gripping your hip to hold you in place. His flesh hand snakes up to squeeze and pinch your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through your body. You whimper and writhe beneath him, struggling to focus on pleasuring his cock as he rapidly brings you to the edge.

"Gonna cum for me, baby?" Bucky growls against your cunt, the vibrations making you shudder. "Want you to cum all over my face while I fuck that pretty little mouth."

You moan around him, the vibrations making him hiss in pleasure. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as he batters the back of your throat, but you don't pull away. You live for these moments when Bucky uses you roughly, treating you like you’re worthless, only a set of holes to be used, because you’re so tired of being good, of working hard, of over achieving, of living up to everyone’s expectations. The only thing he wants from you is your body, and it feels better than any guilty pleasure you’ve ever indulged in before.

Your orgasm hits you suddenly and forcefully. Your body convulses as waves of pleasure crash over you, muffled cries vibrating around Bucky's cock. He doesn't let up, continuing to lap at your oversensitive clit as you writhe beneath him.

Just as it becomes too much, Bucky pulls back, releasing your hips. He slides his cock from your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. Before you can catch your breath, he flips you onto your stomach and yanks your hips up.

"That's one," he growls. "Let's see how many more I can wring out of you before I'm done."

Without warning, he slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. You cry out, fingers clawing at the sheets as he sets a punishing pace. The wet sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room in the dead of night.

"This what you've been craving, sweetheart?" he taunts, pulling his cock out and rubbing the head of his it through your folds. "My cock splitting you open?"

"Yes, yes, Bucky!” you sound like a cliché porn star, but you know he loves it, and you don’t care about letting loose and going mindless and dumb around him. He doesn’t expect anything more from you.

Without warning, he slams back into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

You cry out, the stretch bordering on painful. Bucky doesn't give you time to adjust, he never does. He pursues a punishing pace, and now the headboard bangs against the wall with each powerful thrust.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Bucky grunts, his hips snapping against yours. "You always feel so good around me, baby. Such a perfect little cock sleeve."

His vulgar words send a thrill through you. You moan shamelessly, pushing back to meet his brutal thrusts. Bucky's metal hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise, while his flesh hand snakes around to rub harsh circles on your clit. The dual stimulation quickly builds the pressure in your core.

"That's it, take it slut," Bucky growls, his hips pistoning relentlessly. "You love being used like this, don't you?"

"Yes!" you cry out, beyond shame at this point. "God, yes, Bucky!"

He chuckles darkly, then suddenly pulls out. Before you can protest, he flips you onto your back and hooks your legs over his shoulders. He slides back in with a groan, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper.

"Wanna see your face when you cum on my cock," he pants, leaning down to lick a stripe lewdly up your face.

"Oh fuck, Bucky!" you cry out as he pounds into you relentlessly. The new angle has him hitting your g-spot with every thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Bucky's eyes are dark with lust as he watches you come undone beneath him. One hand wraps around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your head swim. The other hand grips your hip bruisingly tight as he jackhammers into you.

"That's it, baby," he growls. "C'mon, don't you wanna be good for me?"

You nod frantically, unable to form words as the pressure builds inside you. Bucky's thumb finds your clit, rubbing harsh circles that have you seeing stars.

"Cum for me," he commands. "Now."

As if your body is conditioned to obey him, your walls clench around him rhythmically, but Bucky doesn't slow his pace. He fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging it until you're a trembling, oversensitive mess beneath him. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes from the intensity.

"That's two," Bucky growls, his hips still snapping against yours. "Think you can give me one more?"

You whimper as he squeezes your throat, starting to restrict your oxygen.

Your head swims as Bucky's hand tightens around your throat, his hips never slowing their relentless pace. The mix of pleasure and oxygen deprivation has you floating, barely aware of anything beyond the stretch of his cock inside you and the pressure of his fingers on your windpipe.

"Answer me," he growls, loosening his grip just enough for you to gasp out a response.

"Y-yes," you croak, your voice hoarse. "Please, Bucky..."

He grins wickedly, releasing your throat entirely. You gulp in air as he hooks his arms under your knees, folding you nearly in half as he drives even deeper. The new angle has you seeing stars, each thrust hitting spots inside you that make your toes curl.

“Let's see how much more you can take."

Bucky's pace becomes even more brutal, if possible. The headboard slams against the wall with each thrust, and you hope your neighbors are heavy sleepers. Every nerve of your body is on overdrive, overwrought.

You're trembling, overstimulated and overwhelmed, but Bucky shows no signs of slowing down. His cock pistons in and out of you relentlessly, the obscene wet sounds of your coupling filling the room as he keeps you folded in half. You're vaguely aware that you're babbling, a stream of "please" and "fuck" and "Bucky" falling from your lips.

His hot breath fans across your face as he looms over you, steel-blue eyes locked on yours with an intensity that makes you shiver.

"Look at you," he growls, voice rough with exertion. "So fucking desperate for my cock. You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?"

You nod frantically, beyond words at this point. Bucky's hand comes down to rub harsh circles on your clit, and you cry out at the added stimulation. Your oversensitive body trembles, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

"Cum for me again, baby," Bucky commands. "Show me how much of a slut you are for my cock.”

He pinches your clit harshly, and you scream into another orgasm. And still he fucks you as you shake and tremble beneath him. He’s too big and too strong for you to do anything but take it.

He clamps a hand down on your throat again, and your vision starts to blur at the edges as this filthy god moves like a machine above you. The lack of oxygen intensifies every sensation - his cock pounding into you relentlessly, his thumb still circling your oversensitive clit, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

Just as it becomes too much, Bucky pulls out. Your legs fall clumsily to the bed, and Bucky moves so he’s sitting on your chest, straddling just below your breasts, and pinning your arms down to your sides as well. He viciously strokes his cock, grunting for a few more moments, before he groans and shoots his load over your face and chest, ribbons of hot, sticky cum hitting your skin.

You gasp and pant, struggling to catch your breath as Bucky's cum cools on your skin. Your body feels like jelly, utterly spent from the intensity of your multiple orgasms. Bucky sits back on his heels, still straddling your chest, admiring his handiwork.

"Fuck, you look good like this," he growls, voice husky with satisfaction. "All marked up and used."

You whimper, too exhausted to form words. Bucky chuckles darkly, running a finger through the mess on your face and pushing it between your lips. You suck obediently, tasting the salty bitterness of his release.

"Such a good little cumslut," he praises, his other hand trailing down to tweak one of your nipples, making you yip beneath him.

Bucky's weight lifts off you as he shifts to the side, his breathing also heavy.

For a moment, there's only the sound of your combined panting filling the dark room. Then Bucky chuckles low in his throat. "That was better than the truck."

You manage a weak laugh in response, still too overwhelmed to form words. Bucky reaches over and flicks on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow. His eyes roam over your body, taking in the full mess he's made of you – the cum on your face and chest, the bruises already forming on your hips and thighs, the way your pussy is still clenching around nothing. He rolls off the bed and roots round in his discarded clothes, then stands once he’s found his phone.

"Hold still," Bucky commands, raising his phone. You hear the click of the camera as he captures your debauched state. "Something for me until next time."

You should protest, should demand he delete the photos. But a part of you thrills at the idea of Bucky having these reminders of you, of looking at them and getting hard thinking about using you again.

He disappears into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm washcloth. To your surprise, he gently cleans you up, wiping away the evidence of your encounter from your skin. It's an unexpectedly tender gesture from someone who was just fucking you senseless.

"Thanks," you murmur, your voice hoarse.

Bucky just nods, tossing the washcloth aside when he's done. He starts gathering his clothes, pulling them on efficiently. You watch him silently, knowing there was no version of this where he stayed, and honestly you didn’t want him to. You wanted to sprawl freely in your bed and drift away into the few hours of blissful sleep you could steal before having to get up for work and didn’t want to deal with a morning after.

After hunching over and lacing up his boots, he stands, reaches for your hand and pulls you up and to the edge of the bed. “C’mon, get up,” he urges.

Too tired and bewildered to protest, you amble out of bed and follow as he tugs you along, leading you to the bathroom. He turns the shower on, grabs a towel and tosses it over the rod for you. He checks the water temperature, adjusts it slightly, then turns back to you.

He laughs, and you realize your face is broadcasting your confusion. “You’ll sleep better if you shower off the sex and sweat, baby.”

He steals a filthy kiss, licking slowly into your mouth, then ushers you into the shower. “See you next time.”

Next time. The words send a shiver through you, even as your body aches from the intensity of what he’s just done to you.

“I’ll lock the door behind me when I let myself out,” he says.

“Okay,” is all your exhausted mind and body can put together. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he echoes and smirks.

The hot water washes away the smell and grime of the debauchery, soothe your aching limbs, but they don’t wash away the memories of what he did, and you don’t want it to. They go into a collection of how he extracts pleasure from you, and those memories will tide you over for a while on some of the darker nights when you’re feeling particularly horny.

But he’s right.

You won't feel this way in the morning.

But there’ll be another next time, your middle of the night self will win out eventually, you’ll just put it off for a while. Besides, it’s due to be his turn to be he one to break first and put out the feelers for a bootycall.

You won’t say no.

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[elixirfromthestars]

Lines Crossed

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (College AU)

Summary: You and Bucky have danced around the lines you've placed ever since that weekend camping trip. Months later, when Tony Stark hosts an extravagant party, he finally makes a move to cross them.

Word Count: 9.3k

Warning(s): 18+ mdni / drinking / jealousy / forced proximity / smut / female reader / drunk jerk (stranger) / tension / will they won't they oh they will 🫣❤️‍🔥 / sex w/protection / pet names / sprinkles of possessive + protective Bucky so be prepared / there's a build-up so enjoy ❣️

Prompt: oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck

a/n: Please be kind this is my first time writing something like this. 🥺🩶 I decided to challenge myself and join @mercurial-chuckles‘ smutty September fest. A tad late on the deadline because Hurricane Helene decided to take the power out. 😭 This is a standalone fic, but you can most definitely read it (and is intended to be) as a continuation of the events of A Night of Frights & Delights. Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! ❤️❤️

part one backstory // divider // ambiance 🤍

You step into the foyer of the Stark Manor, a grand staircase greets you, its golden railing glowing underneath an ornate chandelier. Various guests mingle around the manor, the buzz of conversation accompanying the music that pulses throughout. Everything about the sight in front of you screams old wealth and elegance. 

Your eyes scan the luxurious home with an expression of awe. Despite being invited before, you had never come to one of Tony’s parties. Choosing the comfort of your bed and your favorite show instead. However, this time knowing a certain captain of the baseball team would be here—and your history with him—well you just had to come. 

As you take it all in, your gaze locks on a pair of beautiful blues. The very same ones you were thinking of all day. And by the way he was looking at you, you knew he was awaiting your arrival just as much as you had been waiting to see him. 

There was no denying he most certainly had been. 

Bucky had arrived about half an hour earlier with some of his teammates. His impatience grew by the second at your absence. He was dying to see what you wore for the party. You denied him any sneak peeks, which only fueled his excitement. He tried distracting himself by greeting anyone he could and making conversation, but he continuously gravitated to the foyer, waiting for the moment you stepped in through those doors. 

When you finally did, Bucky knew with the utmost certainty that the wait was worth it. When his eyes met yours you knocked the air straight out of his lungs with the black dress you were wearing. The satin dawning your body accentuated your silhouette perfectly—and the high slit at your right leg showed off the right amount of skin. The way you did your hair and your makeup complimented you perfectly, and Bucky was losing his goddamn mind because of it.  

Sincerely, he was close to whisking you away and keeping you all to himself. 

You looked nothing short of beyond stunning. Bucky had been holding back for months, staying within the lines you drew that night in the tent, and honestly, he deserved a medal for that. It’s the hardest thing he's ever done. What he felt for you couldn’t measure up to anything else in his life. Never had he felt so over the moon in his feelings for anyone. Yet, you brought on those sentiments by just being you. He was sure if he wasn’t in love with you yet, he was damn near close to it. 

And right now, seeing you in that dress, his mind is going to places it shouldn’t. Places that only belonged to him and his bed on those nights you left him wanting more. Thoughts and scenarios where the night ends with him tearing that dress right off you and showing you just how serious he is about wanting you. 

He’s not so sure he can be on his best behavior tonight. 

Bucky discards the drink he had been holding and saunters over to you. Your heart races in your chest when you see the way his blues darken when he rakes his eyes over your form—shamelessly drinking you up. You take in his figure as well, the all-black suit giving him an aura of class and sophistication that was stirring something dangerous within you. 

Bucky cleaned up good, real good.

He stops a mere foot away from you, his eyes twinkling with intentions both of you long for. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until his voice broke you out of your trance. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you leave my side tonight, not in that dress,” Bucky’s voice is deeper than usual, contrasting the charming grin on his face. You roll your eyes playfully, “I don’t need a babysitter, Bucky,” you reply amused at the thought. Having Bucky by your side all night would definitely lead to you two enjoying each other’s company in other ways. 

Not that you would object if it did. 

Bucky’s hand reaches out to touch you, your heart skipping a beat as he adjusts the strap of your dress on your shoulder. His touch lingers for a second more as a light chuckle escapes him. “Maybe not you sweetheart, but I might. Someone’s going to have to keep me in check tonight. I already have a hard enough time keeping my hands off of you and now you walk in looking like a masterpiece and I'm supposed to keep my hands to myself?” He bites his bottom lip for a moment, almost as if to stop himself from saying too much. 

“Something tells me you’re going to lay it on thick tonight, aren't you?” You tease him, all the while your body thrums with the way he compliments you. Bucky always knows exactly what to say to make you feel like the only girl in the room. An effortless gift he had only when it came to you.

“Can you blame me, baby? You walk in and suddenly it's like no one else exists,” his tone is softer, yet serious when he says this. Your heart skipped a beat when he called you baby. The weight of his attention felt in every fiber of your being. Bucky only ever called you baby when he wanted to really affect you. Reminding you of the pull he had over you.  

The spell you two were under was suddenly broken by Darcy, who rushed over to where you were standing and linked your arm with hers. “Sorry! I’m going to steal her away for a bit there Bucky!” She says unapologetically as she tears you away from the man who looks like he could have devoured you if your friend hadn't interrupted. Your protests fall on deaf ears so you're left waving a small—but not definite—farewell to Bucky. 

It seemed Bucky’s friends had been waiting for the right moment to steal him away too. As soon as you were in another room Sam and Steve went up to Bucky and dragged him to whatever antics the baseball team was up to. His disappointment matches yours, but if there was one thing he had proven all these months was that he had a lot of patience. He knew you two would end up crossing each other’s paths more than once tonight. It was only a matter of time. 

“You forgot you promised to stick by my side tonight. My ex is here, I need the support,” Darcy reminds you with a slight pout. She looks like a ball of fire with the way she pulls you through the crowd in her crimson dress. Her eyes dart to every guest looking to avoid her ex at all costs.

“I didn’t forget. I was just saying hi to a friend,” you explain emitting a snort from Darcy, “A friend? If he’s just a friend than I’m the Queen of England.” You roll your eyes, a small huff of a laugh leaving your lips. Darcy wasn’t wrong. You and Bucky weren’t just friends, but you also weren’t anything more—and that was by your account. 

You and Bucky have fallen into a grey area of what you are to each other. At first, after the camping trip, you tried avoiding him. Not because what happened upset you—but because you couldn’t trust yourself around him after that. Making out with him in that tent made you realize that what you thought had been an annoyance towards Bucky was actually the beginning of a deep-rooted crush. One that bubbled to the surface after that night. 

Avoiding him altogether was an impossible task when he lived in the other apartment in the duplex you rented. Especially after he insisted on giving you rides back and forth from campus with the excuse that now that you two were friends it's only natural for him to be more friendly. By his definition, it also included things like buying you food on days he knows you’ve been too busy to get something for yourself, walking you to your classes whenever he has the chance, and going with you to art exhibitions to dabble in your passion with you. 

Oh, and it also included kissing you mercilessly during tutoring sessions. 

Around the time that fall semester began, Bucky asked you if you could tutor him on a few subjects. He hadn’t done the greatest academically last semester and he wanted to keep his grades up before baseball season started. You were hesitant at first, but ultimately gave in when you realized how sincere he was about needing the help. 

Tutoring Bucky meant spending lots of time with him after classes. The sessions were innocent at first, but after the first time kissing on your bed, Bucky made it a tradition to have his lips on yours, and his hands wandering your body at every session. He even stopped hosting parties at his place, preferring being in your room and getting drunk on the taste of you. 

Bucky was too infatuated by you to ever want to do anything else. Studying was an afterthought whenever you were around, and yet he was doing better than he ever had before in all his classes. Being someone you could be proud of was honestly the best motivation he could ask for. 

Deep down you knew you were falling for him. There was a bit of apprehension on your part as you hadn’t known Bucky to ever have a girlfriend. From what you can remember, ever since you’ve known him, he was the kind of guy who preferred flirting and casual encounters. And there was no guarantee you would be the one to break that. So to keep yourself safe you drew those lines—built those walls up high to guard your heart. Bucky respected those lines and never crossed them. No matter how badly he wanted to. 

Some days, like today, made you want to say screw the lines and just give in to what you desired most. However, when that desire included lowering those walls you put in place, you weren’t brave enough to risk it—so you didn’t. Instead, you and Bucky danced around those lines until it drove you both mad. 

Your thoughts follow you for the next hour as you stay by Darcy’s side. Bucky has this natural way of consuming your mind lately—and your sketchbook. You wish you had it with you right now because when your feelings decide to overflow you channel that intensity onto the paper. For months, every page had been filled with graphite drawings of Bucky. His smile, his eyes, his determined expression when studying, his confident stance during baseball games, and everything else that sparked the creative fire in you. You found a lot of solace in drawing him. 

Bucky was undoubtedly your favorite muse. 

You're so lost in your thoughts you don’t register you’re in the kitchen of the manor until the guests around you cheer. It seems Darcy and Thor have fallen into a friendly competition of sorts to see who could down more shots than the other in one minute. A group of spectators and friends have gathered in the kitchen to watch the showdown go down. Your eyes dart to Jane who only gives you a half-amused, half-exasperated look. She is not looking forward to having to drive those two home later.

Contrary to your friends, you weren’t drinking much tonight. Bucky’s lingering presence at the party was all your senses needed to feel like you were in a daze. For appearances, however, you decide to grab one of the red solo cups to blend in with the rest of those around you. 

“Hey, Y/n! Enjoying the party?” A male’s voice comes from your right and when you turn to see who it is a friendly smile appears on your face. It was Ian Boothby, a fellow art major at your university. You’ve had him in enough of your classes to consider him a friend. 

“Hey, Ian. Yeah, I’m having a good time. Are you?” Your question is a catalyst for a much longer chat with Ian. The two of you fall into light conversation about the semester, art, and other relevant topics. It's a nice breath of fresh air compared to the thoughts that had been consuming you tonight. Especially when he tells you the story of one of his painting mishaps causing you to laugh along with him.

Soon after, a hand snakes its way around your waist, and when you smell that familiar woody muskiness you know exactly who it is. 

“Having fun without me, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice has a slight edge to it as he speaks, his lips forming a smirk. You face him and the look in his eyes stills you. 

Bucky does not look pleased. 

“Bucky, hey man. How’s baseball prep?” Ian beats you to it by addressing Bucky first. Bucky's eyes flick between you and Ian before he presses you into his side by the hold on your waist. This does not go unnoticed by Ian.

“Boothby, it's going good. How’s the cross-country season treating you?” Bucky asks, his tone giving away how uninterested he is in continuing this conversation. If Ian picks up on the animosity he doesn’t show it as he goes on and on about the sport. Bucky’s impatience grows the more he speaks and his hold on you gets a little more firm. When Bucky’s expression finally gives way to how he genuinely feels Ian finds a way to excuse himself and exit the conversation.

A beat passes before you finally speak, “Ian’s my friend. You didn’t have to scare him off like that,” you say with slight annoyance. Bucky clicks his tongue as he eyes you closely, “I didn’t, but I felt like it,” he shrugs cooly. “Didn't like the way he was looking at you.” He adds, his thumb rubbing small circles on your waist.

“Oh? And how was he looking at me?” 

“Like in the way only I should be.” 

The possessiveness in his voice catches you off guard. The air electrifying around you both at his words. You weren’t going to drink, but you suddenly felt the need to. You take a sip of the substance in your cup, the bitter liquid doing little to ground you. Bucky can tell how he’s affecting you and joins you with his drink. His eyes never leave yours as he gulps some of it down. 

You have to stop yourself from inhaling the entire thing in one go. 

“Ian’s harmless. He’s just comfortable with me because he’s an art major too. I’ve had a lot of classes with him,” you do your best to continue the conversation and ignore the way your body heats up when Bucky gives your hip a possessive squeeze. Massaging the area afterward in gentle strokes.

“You do a lot of bonding over paint?” Bucky’s response is slightly mocking, licking his lips to catch a drop of alcohol that wanted to escape. His eyes twinkle with mischief as he relishes the way you're looking at him now. Your gaze trained on his lips. When you realize he’s noticed, the heat from your body goes straight to your face.

You wouldn’t let him have the upper hand though. Never. 

“Well, when you have to sketch someone’s naked body you obviously become friendly,” your reply causes Bucky to choke on his drink, the hand at your hip falling as he uses it to grab a few napkins from the granite counter behind him to wipe at the mess he made. You hide a wicked grin behind the rim of your cup. 

He narrows his eyes at you, “Excuse me? What does that mean?” He knows what you mean, but he’s giving you a chance to tell him you're joking. He’s not hiding the jealousy that crawls up his spine at your revelation. 

“It means Ian’s a nude model for some of my classes. He may not look like it but underneath those layers, he’s got the most gorgeous—” Bucky cuts you off with a fierce kiss, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you into him. There’s been plenty of times you’ve shut him up with your mouth and it was his turn to return the favor. Because hearing you talk about the naked body of another man gets under his skin in ways he wasn’t used to.  He wasn’t going to just stand there and hear another word of it. 

The kiss catches you by surprise, but soon your drink is discarded in favor of pulling him closer by his blazer. Not caring who sees or what anyone thinks, since it’s the first time you’ve ever kissed in front of others. Your craving for him was far too loud to ignore anymore. Your lips stay locked until your lungs burn begging for air.

Bucky pulls away with a smug smile, his voice an octave lower as he moves to whisper in your ear, “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. I know you love getting a rise out of me, but just so we’re clear—next time you want to mess with me like that—I’ll make sure you can’t even stand after I’m through with you,” his declaration causes a shiver to make its way up your spine. 

You swallow hard, your mouth opening to say something, but no sound comes out. Bucky lets out a rough chuckle, ghosting his lips against your cheek before pulling away to stare at how speechless he’s left you. He’s blatantly savoring every second of it. 

You want to say something—anything. Something witty or playful, but the thought of him making good on his promise—the image it conjures in your mind—keeps you silent.

“Buck! You’re needed at beer pong! Tony’s team is winning and the bet is up to five hundred,” Steve rushes into the kitchen, breaking through the bubble you two were in. His eyes dart between you and Bucky with a knowing look. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling at the sight of you two. 

You start to register there’s still an extravagant party happening around you.  

Bucky sighs with slight irritation as he once again gets his moment with you interrupted. He reluctantly tears his attention away from you to call back to Steve, “I’ll be right there!” Steve nods in approval before going back the way he came. 

Now’s your chance to say something, but Bucky pulls away from your body before you can. A coldness replacing where his touch used to be. “Hold that thought, baby. Looks like my team needs their star player,” he winks at you before placing a tender kiss on your forehead, “you keep thinking about what I said while I’m gone,” he says in a gruff whisper, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip in a barely there touch. 

He knows he needs to leave before he takes this somewhere you can’t go back from. 

Bucky doesn’t give you a chance to say anything as he makes a smooth exit. Heading out of the kitchen in the direction of the beer pong game. Your body prickling with an ever growing sexual frustration. You were embarrassingly close to snatching Bucky away and giving in to all your desires in one of the many rooms of the manor. 

“You two need to get a room,” Jane seems to read your mind as she teases you. Appearing from behind you once Bucky was no longer in sight. You can’t deny her words, letting out a small huff, “I don’t know what good that would do. I’ve been clear about not wanting to take things further.” You explain to her, not sure if you could go back on your words for the sake of giving in to what you want now. Jane has had this conversation with you a few times before, and it appears she's hit her limit today. 

 “That man is absolutely head over heels for you. How can you not see that?” Jane shakes her head at you, wondering how she can make you realize what you already know yet deny. There's a vulnerability that overcomes you when you reply, “It’s not that I don’t see it. I just—I’ve never seen him be serious about anyone. The only thing he’s ever serious about is baseball.” Jane looks like she’s about to do something drastic at your denial. 

“Y/n, Bucky is serious about you. He’s literally all about you—he’s chosen you over baseball many times. I’m not around him like you are and even I can see it clear as day. Do you know Thor and like half of the baseball team thinks you two are secretly dating? Stop denying what you know deep down is true and just give in—be happy,” Jane tells it like it is, her tone leaving no room for argument or denial. 

For so long Bucky has shown you another side of him—one not many get to see. He’s given you priority and importance when he didn’t have to. Care and consideration when you needed it most. A shoulder to lean on and a steady support to rely on. Time and time again Bucky has demonstrated how much you mean to him.

Perhaps, you both have been something more to each other for a long time and Bucky’s kept his wishes at bay to make sure things developed at your pace. 

When it finally hits you, you almost feel exposed by how skillfully Jane can read you. At how easily she can see the situation for what it is and not for what your worries twisted it to be. If Bucky had made it clear to you how he felt, what was stopping you from taking things further than they had been before?

At this point, nothing, nothing was stopping you but yourself.

This realization follows you to the dance floor. A very drunk Darcy had pulled you to it along with Jane, babbling tipsily after losing the drinking competition to Thor. You had never seen a living room with such high ceilings before or enough room to host a makeshift dance floor and a DJ booth. The living space had been stripped of its furniture and supplied with top-notch equipment to make it resemble the inside of a club. 

At least in the near darkness, it resembled one.

You’re in a huddle of your closest friends, all of them letting the music guide their movements to their heart’s content. You sway absentmindedly, so you're not merely standing there awkwardly. The kaleidoscope of party lights strobe and kiss your skin with an array of colors as the music thumps around your body. 

A loud cheer catches your attention, the source of the sound coming from a table on the far left end of the room. Tony and his friends were boisterous as they made a shot against their opponent's team in beer pong—Bucky’s team. You had a clear view of it all from where you stood. 

Bucky’s team seems to be taking turns on who drinks every time Tony’s team makes a shot. They look amongst themselves until Bucky steps up and chugs the liquid in the red solo cup. It's like he can feel the shift in the air because as soon as the cup is away from his lips his eyes scan the space and find you, and suddenly it's like you two are the only two people in the room. 

You want him—all of him. You enjoy the teases, the banter, the back and forth, but you know you’d enjoy calling him yours more. 

The music picks up in tempo as your boldness grows. Keeping your eyes trained on him, your hips begin to sway provocatively, tempting him to say screw the game and make his way towards you instead. Bucky’s not even paying attention to the game anymore his eyes soaking up your every move as it fans the flames of desire between you. The atmosphere around you buzzes as the ground shakes due to the sea of dancing bodies, and yet nothing thrums within you more than your need for Bucky. 

The little show you’re putting on for him continues as you roll and wave your body in ways that seduce him. Ghosting your hand along the curves and dips of your figure showing him exactly where you’d like his hands to be. Bucky’s mind is reeling with everything he wants to do to you and none of it involves the dance floor and all of it involves you and him in some private corner of the manor where he can show you exactly what his hands are capable of. 

You are making it impossibly hard for him to concentrate on anything else. 

Slowly and with shady intentions a group of drunk guys circle the huddle of you and your friends like vultures. Finding their way to snake themselves into any corner or crevice they can fit into. Their bodies bumping and grazing against yours. There’s one guy in particular that has his sights set on you. Getting closer to you on the dancefloor and creeping his hands along your waist. You swat his hands away, but he doesn’t disperse immediately. The alcohol on his breath fanning your face causing you to gag. The more you dismiss him the more adamant he was about keeping you close to him. 

Almost instantly, a protective grip pulls you away from the drunk guy. A familiar warmth encases you as Bucky pulls you into his chest, your back to him. Your hands find their way to hold his arms to ease the displeasure the drunk had caused.

Bucky glares at the drunk guy, his gaze cold and unapologetic, “Alright, that's enough.” The drunk guy sneers, his words slurred, “What the—what’s your problem bro? We’re just—” Bucky doesn’t let him finish, “Shut up. You’re not doing anything. You’ve got two seconds to back off or we’re going to have a problem,” Bucky’s reply is sharp and menacing. He directs it to all the men that had swarmed you and your friends. 

Shifting you so you stand at his side, Bucky steps forward to let the guys know he’s not messing around. Your hold goes to his right arm where you’re watching the exchange unfold anxiously. You hope things don’t escalate, not wanting Bucky to get into a scuffle. You know he can handle himself, but the idea of him getting hurt in any way caused your heart to ache. 

The guys size Bucky up and it seems some of them think they can take him on. Until the strobing lights illuminate Bucky’s darkened gaze enough that in their drunk haze, they finally recognize him as captain of the baseball team. That means that fighting Bucky meant taking on the entirety of the team. And with the way Sam and Steve were looking over to see if they needed to step in, and Thor was already storming over—they knew they didn’t stand a chance.

It was comical the way the drunk men scramble to get away as fast as they could. Muttering incoherences and apologies under their breath. They don’t get far as Tony’s hired security for the night promptly kicks them out. 

Thor comes up to check on everyone, giving special attention to Jane who keeps assuring him she’s fine. You turn to Bucky, who’s already inspecting you to make sure you are alright, “Bucky I—” You almost tell him not to worry, that you had things under control, but in reality, you’re glad Bucky stepped in. 

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, Bucky’s tense demeanor softens at your words. He moves to get a better hold on you, his grip at your waist protective teetering on possessive. 

“You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart. I got you—always,” Bucky’s genuine response makes your heart flutter and your pulse quicken. Your senses are awakened by his proximity, completely enamored with the way he looks at you. 

“Plus, if I’m going to fall for the most beautiful girl in the world, I have to know how to fight right?” Bucky says this like it's the most obvious thing, smirking at the way you don’t hide the smitten grin he elicits from you. There’s a sparkle in your eyes as you stare at him, Bucky’s heart racing at the sight of it.

 “You and your compliments,” you give a breathless laugh, letting your guard down for once and going with the flow. Bucky can sense it. Sense the way there’s a shift between you, the blossoming of something bigger being accepted and not pushed away by you anymore.

“Only for my girl,” he says this like a promise. His right-hand goes up to gently brush against your cheek. You lean into the touch, that same hand cupping your cheek in response. Bucky has never felt more elated knowing that maybe finally you two can go to places he’s only dreamed of. 

“Yours?” You question him playfully, which causes him to chuckle, the sound a low rumble, “You and I both know you are, sweetheart. I told you I had all the time in the world to make you fall for me—and I meant it,” he smiles, an intense fire in his eyes that only accumulates when you respond, “You don’t have to wait any longer, Bucky.”

He wastes no second to connect your lips, kissing you with a loving purpose. His lips have a slightly bitter taste to them from the beer that still lingered there. And yet, the bitterness disappears when one kiss turns into two and then three. His arms encircling you to pull you into his chest, your hands finding their way to the nape of his neck.

Bucky pulls away to ghost his lips against your jaw until his lips brush against your ear, “Those little moves you were doing for me earlier, do them again,” his husky tone sends a shiver down your spine as he tugs you in to dance with him. Your bodies mold to one another, hips swaying in rhythm with the vigorous music. The beat allows you to gyrate and grind in ways that drive him to the edge of his control. 

His hand rests on the small of your back, holding you close, fingers splayed out as if making a silent claim. You can feel the way his gaze burns into you, the air getting hotter making it harder to breathe. Your hands trail up and down his arms as need be. The rest of the party fades away leaving you two alone in this space of this charged energy. Every lingering touch and longing glance is layered with unspoken urges that would soon intensify to the brink of madness. 

“You have no idea what you do to me do you?” 

“I do. I’m not immune to what’s going on between us, Bucky.”

Your body, your voice, the way you plead with your eyes for him to take this further—it causes a stirring within his pants—the fabric getting tighter the longer the dance goes on. He needs to get you away, to get you alone. Bucky needs to satiate this hunger for you that threatens to consume him or he is going to end up doing something Rated R on this dance floor. 

The throbbing between your legs agrees. 

An idea pops into Bucky’s mind when he glances at his group of friends. He increases the volume of his voice so you can hear him over the music, “The baseball team was going to host a game of hide and seek. Should we play?” Playful mischief glimmers in his eyes as he asks you. 

“Hide and seek? Seriously?” You raise a brow, wondering how that was going to work in a mansion full of a million rooms.

“Yeah, come on. It'll be fun,” Bucky draws you away from the dance floor and over to where his friends are mingling and taking a few shots. Steve sees Bucky approach and they have a quick whispered exchange. Your eyes dart between them, curious as to what they're discussing.

“Seems like we’re getting a head start,” he comments to you as he leads you away from the main party and down a few intricate hallways. His hold on your hand is firm, yet careful—almost as if he’s afraid you’ll get lost in one of the many corners of the manor. The thrum of the music fades the further you slip away from the party. Your pulse spikes, both from the adrenaline of the game and the heat that still simmers between you.

Bucky has been to Tony’s parties plenty of times before, so he knows the layout of the manor pretty well. The clicking of your heels along the marble floors echoes at the pace of the beating of his heart. He tries to focus on the expensive artwork that lines the halls instead of the way your hand perfectly fits in his. The artwork is what’s guiding his path through the manor and you are the best distraction he could ask for. 

“Where are we going?” Your voice echoes down the endless hallway. 

“Somewhere no one will find us,” he winks at you, your heart skipping a beat at his words, his pace steady and purposeful as he turns one more corner and slips you two inside a room. You're encased in darkness, blindly feeling for a light switch until Bucky uses the flashlight on his phone to illuminate the space. You faintly make out your surroundings. You seem to be in one of the many guest rooms of the manor. The attention to detail in the room was no short of the attention paid to the rest of the place.

You knew Tony’s family had money, but seeing how they splurged for a mere guest room, meant his family was beyond loaded. 

Bucky whispered something to you, but you didn’t catch it as he took you by the hand and ushered you into the room’s closet, clicking it shut behind him. He reaches up to turn on the small lightbulb to cascade the enclosed space in a soft glow, turning off the flashlight on his phone and putting it in his pants pocket. The tension is now thicker and more palpable in the small space, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.

If you had a dollar for every time you and Bucky ended up in a tight space together, you would have exactly two dollars. While maybe strange, it somehow seemed fitting for you two. 

Bucky steps closer to you, your bodies inches apart, the dim light doing nothing to dull the intensity in his eyes, “Now that I’ve got you here—I think I did a good job with the hiding spot, don't you?” His heated whisper brings your breath to a hitch. 

You have to clear your throat to compose yourself, “I don’t know…We had a whole mansion to hide in, and you chose a closet?” You can’t help but tease him, trying to lighten the unbearable tension. 

“Would you rather go hide in the library? The wine cellar? The arcade?” His voice is dripping with mirth taking another step closer to you. He knows what you're doing, but he’s not going to let the tension die down—not this time.  

“The arcade sounds fun,” you quip, leaning back against the wall. 

“Hm, maybe, but I prefer the closet. It’s a lot more private and it has its…advantages,” he reaches out to pull your hand up to his lips, planting a soft kiss across your knuckles. You go to use that hand to lightly push at his chest, but he catches it in time and intertwines your fingers instead. Your heart is racing a mile a minute. 

“Maybe the closet isn’t so bad, but these heels…Worst decision I made tonight,” you shift slightly, not meaning to change the subject, but your heels are torturing you. In the quiet of the closet the pain begins to creep up on you, begging to be acknowledged. After hours of walking on them, dancing, and standing overall—your feet were killing you. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stand upright while hiding. 

“Are they hurting you?” 

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Lets get them off then,” Bucky slides his hand underneath your right thigh, eyes locked on yours, as he hikes it up against the outside of his leg. Your hips brush up against his front, your breath catching at the intimacy of the moment. He watches your every reaction as he slides his hand down the underside of your leg until he reaches the strap of your heel. He’s able to undo it effortlessly, relieving you of the discomfort, his fingers grazing your ankle as he slides your right heel off. His every touch leaves heat in its wake. 

“Bucky you really don't have to—” he cuts you off with a soft smile and half-lidded eyes, switching his hold from your right leg to your left one, “I want to, sweetheart. Just let me help, ” he removes the other heel with the same tantalizing tenderness he used for the first one. Putting them to the side where they won’t get in the way.

The relief you feel is immediate.

“Better?” 

“Much.” 

“Good.” 

A moment passes before he speaks, his voice quiet with an underlying devotion, “You don’t get the hold you have on me, do you?’’ His right hand dances along the outside of your thigh while his left plays with the strap of your dress, twirling it between his fingers. The hand at your thigh traces patterns onto it. Trailing intricate swirls across the flesh, along your hips, ascending to your waist, and all the way up to the space between your breasts. The touch lingers there when you let out a soft sigh. 

You honestly forget how to breathe. 

“Say the word and I’m all yours, Y/n,” his voice is rough as his lips ghost against yours—seductively grazing against them. Going so far as licking his lips with an invigorating grin to really drive you crazy.

Bucky is waiting for you to make the deciding move. When you realize this, you throw all caution to the wind, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. You waste no time in granting him access to deepen it. Bucky follows your lead ardently. His hands snake down your body to cup your ass and pull you impossibly close to him. 

Your hands get lost in his hair, a groan rumbling through him at the way you tug at it. You two aren’t sweetly kissing, you're devouring each other. Yearning for the other all night leaves no more room for taking things slow or holding back. You’re both now giving in to what you want most—each other. 

The heat between you intensifies until it crescendos to a boiling point. The aching between your legs imploring you to do something about it. You reach down to tug at the waistband of his pants, causing Bucky to let out a husky laugh. 

“If you want something use your words, sweetheart,” he mutters against your lips, you suppress a groan, “You know what I want. I don't have to say it,” you retort impatiently. Bucky shakes his head, smiling despite himself, “I want to hear you say it,” he dips his head to the crook of your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. The hands on your ass give it a light squeeze emitting a small gasp from you. You can feel the shit-eating grin on your neck. 

“Bucky….I…” your words are cut off by a soft moan when Bucky’s left hand sneaks its way through the slit of your dress until he reaches the inside of your thighs. He massages the flesh there, his thumb brushing against the hem of your panties. 

Your arousal pools impossibly more, and the lustful haze only increases at the way you feel his hardened cock straining against his pants—right against your hip. 

“Mm? What was that, baby? Couldn’t hear you over those pretty noises you're making,” his every word drips with cockiness. 

“You're insufferable.”

“That’s my girl.” 

Bucky kisses your neck with more fervor. Sucking and nipping at the skin hard enough to leave marks. Your thighs involuntarily close together at the way he calls you his girl. He eases them back apart with his deliberate touches. Kneading the soft flesh in his hands as his breathing goes ragged along your neck, tickling your skin. He was on the brink of losing what little control he had left. 

You suck in a sharp breath, losing what little semblance of control you had left the higher his touch gets. He only goes so far, barely brushing across your clothed cunt to give you a taste of what he can do if you just let him hear it. You were desperate for more and he knew it. 

 “Fuck me, Bucky,” you manage to whimper out, hooking your fingers into his empty belt loops and yanking him towards you. Bucky lets out a low growl at the brief friction, his eyes darkening to an almost unrecognizable color. For a moment, his brain short circuits at your words, processing that you really said that to him accompanied by that alluring sound. He’s heard those sinful noises from you before, but never like this. Never with the assurance of more. 

“Say it again.”

“Bucky, please just fuck me already.”

You don’t have to tell him another time. Bucky crashes his mouth onto yours with a new intensity, mumbling lustful promises into your mouth. How he wants you, how badly he aches to make you feel good, how he yearns for his pretty girl to lose herself with him, and so many more things that make you dizzy. 

He moves to bunch up your dress, hiking it up your legs until it's bundled at your waist. His breathing strains at the sight—your black lacy panties luring him in—his muscles tensing at the growing need to be inside you. His left arm reaches down to hook his forearm under your knee and bring it up to his hip. You wrap that leg around him, steadying yourself on your other foot as you grind against each other. You can feel the way his cock aches to be freed and it causes you to arch deeper into him. Your moans mingle into one, the slight relief overwhelming you. 

Bucky takes his free hand and splays it at the small of your back, offering strong support as your bodies continue to grind against one another. A chorus of moans and yearnful whines erupt from you both. All of the pining and hunger for one another amalgamates into one as you continue to rub against each other. You swallow each other’s sounds, tongues tangling carnally as neither of you leaves any room for air.

“Do you have—?”

“Back pocket. Wallet.”

Your lips barely disconnect at the brief exchange. You reach behind him, patting down his backside until you feel the outline of his wallet in his pocket. You take hold of it and bring it forward. Meanwhile, Bucky decides to leave wet kisses along the valley of your breasts. You can barely contain yourself and your soft moans as you pull out the condom. The wallet almost slips from your grasp as the attention to your breasts causes you to tremble. 

You hold it tighter intending to put it back in his pocket when something catches your eye. In the clear slot where his identification should be is a polaroid picture from the weekend camping trip. You’re in that picture sitting next to Bucky on a couple of logs surrounded by your friends and peers. There’s a bright smile on Bucky’s face, his arm around your shoulder as you make bunny ears behind his head.

You love this picture. You have a copy of it taped to your bedroom mirror back home.

At your stillness, Bucky looks up to see what’s going on. When he notices you staring at the picture, he smiles fondly. " It's the only picture I had of us,” he utters softly, causing a warmth to spread throughout you. You gaze at him in tender awe, marveling at the fact that Bucky is real.

Why had you ever doubted he was anything but yours? 

You kiss him this time with all the unspoken feelings you’ve bubbled up and kept inside. The wallet falls from your hands, but it's no matter as Bucky kicks it to the side with his foot, and shudders at the way your lips claim his. This goes beyond lust. Your heart beats with reason, and that reason is the man in front of you. 

“Bucky, I want this. I want you. All of you,” you whisper passionately, your hands lowering to help him unbutton and unzip his pants, the foil neatly tucked between your fingers. A guttural moan leaves him when you push the layers of fabric down and free his cock, pumping it a few times to get a feel of it. His head falls to your shoulder, sighing softly in a near whine as you tear the foil open and roll the protection down his length. It twitches in your hands, his hips bucking at the contact. 

His arms are preoccupied with keeping you close and steady, so you gently guide him to your center. Moving your panties to the side as he tantalizingly slides along your folds before he slowly enters you. Your mouth goes agape at the sensation while Bucky has to do everything to make sure he doesn’t cum right then and there.

This was so much better than what he had imagined in his dreams. 

It's been too long since you’ve done this and the burn at the stretch causes you to cry out quietly. Bucky peppers your face with sweet kisses and whispers of devotion. Trying to do his best to comfort you as he lets you adjust inch by inch. The hand at the small of your back rubs circles into it with his thumb, your own hands shooting up to grip his biceps for support. 

“I’m not gonna last if you tighten up like that sweetheart,” he hisses a groan at how tightly your walls envelop him. You’re really making it hard for him to not come undone in a short amount of time. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby, just relax for me.”

His gentle words are accompanied by thrusts that are slow with a deliberate purpose. He’s careful with his pace as he wants this to go at whatever speed you need. It takes a bit, but his soft kisses and comforting touches coax the burn away until you're left with the ardent ache of needing more. 

“Faster, Bucky,” you plead breathily. He rests his forehead against yours.“Can you handle it, baby?” His question is full of loving concern, prioritizing your pleasure over everything.

“I can…fuck…please,” you assure him, your leg pulling him in tighter causing him to bottom out. Bucky curses and moans all in one. At your assurance, he picks up the pace of his hips, rocking them against you with a fiery velocity. The lewd sounds bouncing off the walls of the closet in waves. 

He gives it to you exactly how you asked him to. That man would do anything for you—just say the word and its done. 

Bucky is on cloud nine at the way you take him. The way your bodies mold and arch into one another’s like you can’t get enough. As if all you ever needed to consume to live was each other. When he goes to kiss you, you can barely kiss back as you’re too lost in the way he slams into you.

“Fuck, baby, if only you could see yourself. You’re so fucking gorgeous making those pretty expressions for me,” Bucky grunts out, drinking up the sight of your face. A string of mewls leaves your lips at the keen attention he keeps on you. Everything about you right now is a work of art in his eyes he wants framed and kept at his bedside. A constant reminder he’s the one who gets to make you look and feel so damn good.  

“Don’t stop, please don't stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to, sweetheart.” 

Your words egg him on to go harder, causing your back to press tightly against the wall. Hiking your leg just a tad bit higher to thrust into you at another angle. This was the best decision he ever made as he hits the perfect spot within you. One that leaves you clinging onto him desperately as your walls tighten on the brink of release. 

It takes a few more fierce drives into you until your orgasm hits you and you're cumming with a feverish intensity. Moaning Bucky’s name in a euphoric mantra that’s music to his ears. It's what brings him over the edge and he stills at the force of his orgasm, his head collapsing into the dip of your neck as he releases into the condom. 

“My girl. My sweet girl. You feel so good, baby,” Bucky softly whispers against your neck. Planting small kisses as both of you come down from your highs. Your arms wrap behind his neck to embrace him and keep him close to you. Bucky continues to mutter sweet praises along your skin, as your hands thread through his hair tenderly. Both of you steadying your breaths as you come back down to Earth. 

If it weren't for Bucky holding your right leg up, it would've fallen from its position at his hip long ago. You’re even more grateful for it now as your body felt completely boneless. And when he pulls out, its the grip he has on your body that keeps your knees from buckling.

Bucky lifts his head so his gaze locks on yours. His blues are swimming with a vehemence that steals your breath and causes your pulse to race.  

“Y/n, I…I wanted to give you some time. Time to figure things out—to figure out what you wanted. I tried pretending I was okay with pieces of you, but I’m not. I want all of you. I want to be yours,” Bucky confesses with sincerity. You reach out to interlock your hands with his, a floodgate of emotions engulfing you. 

“Bucky—” you start, but he’s not hearing it, afraid you’ll want to go back to a place that would devastate him. “Wait, just hear me out. Everything I ever did was to get you to notice me. From the moment we met there was just something about you that kept pulling me in. And I knew—I just knew I had to get to know you. And then one thing led to another and I fell for you—hard. Now I can’t imagine my life without you. There's only you. It’s always been you. Give me a chance, let me prove it to you every day, that I’m yours. That I have been for a long time,” Bucky’s tone borders on pleading, you give his hands a light squeeze to ease the worry in his features. 

“Bucky you have nothing to prove—”

“Y/n—” 

This time you stop him by clamping a hand over his mouth. 

“Bucky, you have nothing to prove because I’ve felt the same way for a long time. I just fought it for so long out of fear that maybe you weren’t serious about me. But I can see now I was wrong. I’ve been yours for a long time too, Bucky. I just pretended I wasn’t—and I’m done fighting it. I’m done being in denial. I want to have something serious with you. I’m ready for it,” your heartfelt confession immediately melts away the tension in Bucky’s shoulders. 

You wanting this as much as he did made him feel like he was on top of the world.

He mumbles something into your hand, the biggest grin on the other side of it. You laugh adoringly at the sight as you remove your hand to replace it with your mouth instead. Both of you sink into the kiss as a deeper devotion is exchanged. 

“Whoever is seeking is horrible at it,” you remove yourself with a light giggle, taking a jab at whoever the seeker of the hide-and-seek game is. A game that was long forgotten by Bucky until you mentioned it. 

Bucky smiles sheepishly, “About that…there's not actually a hide-and-seek game. And if there is they don't know we’re playing,” he confesses with a twinkle in his eyes. You shake your head at him, laughing in disbelief, “Bucky, then what were you and Steve whispering about?” Your curiosity is met with a boyish grin from Bucky, “I was just letting him know not to come looking for me. I wanted to get some alone time with you,” his hands find your hips again to give them a gentle squeeze.

Bucky is far from done with you yet. 

You roll your eyes lightheartedly at his revelation. Of course, he’d come up with a way to get you all to himself. Can you blame him? 

After a few more stolen kisses and lingering touches, you both start to compose yourselves. Adjusting your outfits and collecting your items from the ground. Thankfully, the guest room has its own bathroom where the two of you can clean up much better than in the small closet. Tousled hair, smeared makeup, and sweaty skin required a deeper attentiveness.

You both take your time in freshening up. The bathroom lighting does wonders to reveal every piece of evidence of your sexual encounter. You can now clearly see all the red marks that would eventually turn into hickeys that scattered your neck and chest. Bucky beams pleased at the markings he’s left as you scold him for making them so prominent. 

Bucky doesn’t give a damn. He’d gladly make more in an instant. 

By the end, all that's left is to get your heels on, which Bucky insists on helping you with. He offered to carry you for the rest of the party or even giving you his shoes, but you declined both options. You paid good money for these heels so whether you liked it or not, you were forcing yourself to wear them. 

Bucky helps you up onto the expansive marble counter. Lowering down onto his knees in front of you to slide your heels back onto your feet. Nimble fingers work the straps into place, making sure they're not too tight at the ankles. When he looks up at you, a devilish grin appears on his face. That spark of desire is back in your eyes when you see how good he looks knelt between your legs. Your mind was reeling with ideas as the heat once again pranced across your skin. Bucky’s gaze bore into yours, almost as if he could read your mind. He can’t help but get turned on again. 

You were in the same boat. 

“You know, I have a big stats test on Monday. I could use an emergency tutoring session right about now,” his tone is laced with suggestion as his fingers trace along your ankle. You hum, “Hm? Do you? I think I could accommodate that.” Your reply gives Bucky the go to start kissing up your legs until he reaches your knees. He never breaks eye contact as he places a tender kiss on each one before standing up and giving that same attention to your mouth.

“Perfect. Let’s get out of here, sweetheart,” Bucky mutters against your lips, the kiss a promise of the fun awaiting you for the rest of the night. Now that the lines were blurred beyond recognition, into something deeper, something real, you were both completely all in. 

[soelstress]

Silent In the Library

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Summary: While on a mission with Bucky, both of you get creative to avoid detection.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , explicit sex/smut, fingering , p in v sex , unprotected sex , sex in a library , some language

A/N 1 - This is my second submission for @mercurial-chuckles Smutty September Fest. Thank you for doing this challenge, it's been fun playing around with the prompts.

A/N 2 - Prompts - Asked a friend to pick up to five prompts for me... of course I was given five so two stories it is 🙈 7) finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to fuck (coat closet, empty office, secluded corner on the big balcony, hedge maze if we wanna get dramatic, etc) 14) Library sex for those dark academia vibes

A/N 3 - Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work - I think the photo was from the 'Fresh' Flaunt photoshoot but I saved it from Google

A/N 4 - Please let me know if I've missed a warning, knowing me it's more than likely. Hope you all enjoy ☺️

Your limited sight in the dark night only heightened your other senses. Branches of the hedge dug into the skin of your back, scraping the exposed flesh. Warm pants tickled your ear. The smell of fresh greenery swirled with cologne, but the hand around your throat prevented you from inhaling. Your heart pounded and breaths became shorter, you couldn’t take much more.

“Come with me”.

You froze when he suddenly crumpled to the ground without a noise. Not daring to even breathe, your eyes darted around. A shift in the shadows caught your attention, moonlight softly reflecting off black and gold Vibranium to reveal the presence of your saviour. You took a deep breath in relief, the sudden rush of air triggering a coughing fit. “What took you so long?” 

A scoff reached you long before the outline of your mission partner, barely visible in his dark attire. “Despite what Sam believes, I do not have ‘cyborg x-ray vision’. Took me awhile to dodge security AND find you. In a maze. That’s out of bounds. Couldn’t have made it any easier for me, could you?” He stopped near you, pausing as your coughing fit didn’t seem to be easing. “You ok?”

You raised your arms in an attempt to ease your spluttering. After a few moments, it slowed. “Unfortunately for you, yes”. You took a few slow breaths before turning to him. “Sorry for any extra paperwork, I’m sure you’d prefer that to having to deal with me”.

“I can handle paperwork. What I can’t handle is Sam complaining if something happens to you. I wanted to throw him off the plane because he grilled me for a bruise that you got. After our last mission. Tripping over thin air”. Though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the weight of his trademark scowl. Hopefully he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks from his words which unfortunately were true. “So can we please try to keep you in one piece to complete the mission and the journey home?”

Right. The mission. The one requiring you to break into the mansion of a former Hydra informant to retrieve a drive that contained information on old Hydra bases and activities. The one that Sam swore would be best to infiltrate on the night of a big party to avoid rousing suspicion. The one he insisted on pairing you and Bucky together. James Bucky Barnes - tonight’s savour, the reason you had previously tripped over thin air, and ultimately your unrequited crush. Part of you wanted to kill Sam who teased you mercilessly for your crush but the other part relished the chance to work closely with the sinfully sexy Super Soldier.

The pair of you had decided to attend the party separately, providing two opportunities to grab the drive, but also separate alibis if required. On arrival, you had started by trying to sneak upstairs to the library. But one lone security guard had thwarted your effort and then proceeded to follow you. In a desperate attempt you tried to escape him in the maze but he had cornered you. He had toyed with you, threatening to take you to the host when Bucky had stepped in. 

A soft grunt interrupted your musings. Bucky had picked up the security guard and removed his phone. Walking a few strides to where two hedges met to form a corner, Bucky carefully launched the guard to land on top of the eight foot hedges so he was out of sight from anyone walking by. You couldn’t help chuckling at the sight. Together you both started to follow the path of the maze in a companionable silence. A few turns had been made and in the distance you could see pinpricks of light from the mansion. Bucky’s warm hand grabbed your wrist. “Someone’s coming” he murmured. You knew he’d be thinking about how to fight his way out as quietly as possible. But with one guard down already, you couldn’t risk attracting further attention.  And only one of you had Super Soldier speed. An idea burst into your mind as you glanced around, seeing a small path in the hedge that led to a dead end after a few paces. 

 You turned and yanked him toward you. “What -“ his question was cut off when you pulled him into a fierce kiss. Bucky froze. You were certain he’d shorted circuited and that you would end up having to fight your way through. Pulling away, you made to turn and face the approaching threat but Bucky guided you backwards towards the small path. His left arm cushioned your back from the hedge, hand cupping the back of your head. His nose and lips drifted along your neck and collarbone, growling when your hands gripped the lapels of his jacket in an effort to pull him closer. Lost in a fog of desire, you felt your body trying to meld to his. His right hand gripped your waist, your leg starting to lift up to his waist in response when he froze again. “They’re gone”. Reality washed over you like a cold tidal wave, the heat of embarrassment soon fighting with the chill you’d felt a moment ago. Though you craved so badly to stay pressed to him, you knew that he didn’t feel the same as you. Besides which and most importantly, you had a job to do. Unclenching your fingers from his jacket, you tried to lower your leg discreetly and checked your appearance as a cover. Bucky unwound his arms from around you but didn’t step back. “What was that?”

Face burning, you sidestepped him with a shrug. “All your training and you don’t know how hard it is to run in heels, let alone fight”. As you walked, you could feel heat in your belly and slick pooling in your panties. Unbelievable. You’d acted like a horny teenager - sharing one kiss and then pressing against him as he held you. How the hell had you lost control like that? There were a few moments of your footsteps before you heard Bucky’s tread catch up. Tension was thick as you silently headed towards the mansion. Leaving the maze, you saw people making their way indoors. 

You avoided looking at Bucky. “I’ll mingle”.

“I’ll hit the bar”. 

Both of you separated at the bottom of the stairs, joining the crowds to drift inside. You began to work your way around the room, spending a few minutes in various conversations and contributing noises of agreement or amusement. It would be enough for the fellow guests to notice you in the moment but difficult to remember later while also giving you a good cover in case security was watching. After thirty minutes, you walked down the hallway that led to the ladies room on the next floor but also the main stairs that led to the library on the top floor. 

“Sam’s gonna kill me, your back looks like you got in a fight with an alley cat”. The rough timbre rumbled in your ear. 

Shrugging, you cautiously began to climb the stairs. “Some guys these days can’t manhandle a woman properly. It’s not the first time I’ve been roughed up”. Bucky fell silent as you moved towards the landing of the next floor. You hadn’t noticed the scratches on your back, Bucky must have effectively shielded your back when he pushed you into the hedge. You bit your lip to hold in a soft moan at the thought. From the way the way he’d handled you and the security guard in the maze, you knew that his version of roughing up would be very different.

“Hold up, doll. Security’s sweeping the stairs. Just lean over and wave like you’ve seen someone”. Doing as instructed, you leaned against the railing. Somehow your gaze landed on Bucky at the bar. A choked gasp escaped your mouth at the first clear sight of him. You knew he wore black from his camouflage trick in the maze. But this was something else. Dressed in a form fitting black suit with tousled hair and stubble dusting his cheeks, he had your heart and mind racing. “See something you like, toots?” Caught in a blue gaze, you blinked before waving. Bucky raised a crystal glass of amber liquid, the black jacket looking snug against his beefy arms and broad chest. 

Taking that as a signal to start moving again, you quietly hurried back along the corridor. “Almost didn’t recognise you without that scowl Barnes. You actually look decent”. 

A soft chuckle sounded through the comm, sounds of movement following. You figured Bucky had left the bar. “Well you clean up nicely too. Almost mistook you for a dame in that dress” he teased. As you crept up the final stairway, a mirror was placed opposite the steps and you took a moment to admire the dress you wore. A black velvet maxi dress that was strapless and had a slit up the left side hugged your body. Blushing slightly, you couldn’t help feeling pleased that he had noticed. Reaching the top of the stairs, you moved towards the correct door. 

You glanced behind you before carefully opening the door to the library, slipping inside before you closed it and looked around. Two walls were lined with books, every floor to ceiling shelf filled carefully and pristinely kept. The door you had just walked through was also framed with shelves of books. A giant rustic stone fireplace dominated the fourth wall to your left, a roaring fire illuminating an abstract painting mounted above it. Chesterfield seats were scattered through out the room. A pleasant smell of old books and leather soothed your nerves and you found yourself relaxing. Approaching the fireplace to examine the painting closely, you were suddenly yanked backwards into the left corner of the room near the door. As you wriggled, you managed to elbow your assailant before being restrained. “Calm down toots! It’s me” Bucky grunted in your ear before letting you go. 

“I thought men from the forties were gentlemen?” Grumbling, you turned and straightened your dress before looking at him to see him rubbing where you’d jabbed him. “Gotta say Barnes, grabbing a lady like that tarnishes your reputation as a charmer”. 

Bucky smirked, his face half hidden in darkness. “Depends on your definition of lady, doll. Besides you’re the one who said about being poorly handled in the maze”. You flushed, earlier thoughts of him handling you resurfacing. “Anyway, come look at this”. He pointed towards the left side of the fireplace. On closer inspection you noticed that the fireplace was not built flush into the wall but instead the stone sides jutted a few feet into the room. Before you could ask if the old man needed his eyes checked, he gently took your elbow and led to you the right side of the fireplace. A little corner nook was formed where the fireplace wall met the bookshelf of the adjoining wall. Near the corner a bookshelf slightly wider than Bucky was built in. “There’s an electronic book safe a few shelves up”.

Glancing around, you saw a rolling ladder on a track. You made to move when Bucky beat you to wheeling it as close as possible, but there was a small gap between the shelf and the ladder. Frowning, you glanced at Bucky who nodded and moved to hold the ladder on one side. As you climbed carefully up the rungs, you heard him move to hold both sides to stop the ladder from rolling. Carefully opening the safe cover, you saw the electronic key pad with the spaces for a five digit number flashing. Looking at the buttons, you could see five buttons had been pressed more frequently than others. As the possibilities for the code ran through your head and you eliminated any as a birthday or memorable date, you thought about how the owner of this mansion had become involved, anything you could remember about his background - of course. You scoffed softly and entered the code. 4-9-3-7-2. The lock clicking open echoed in the quiet room. Shaking your head, you reached into the safe and pulled out a small drive the size of a quarter before sealing the safe and replacing the book cover. You began to descend the ladder, carefully feeling for each step before moving. 

Reaching the last rung, you felt Bucky behind you. Inhaling deeply you slowly turned, using the rungs for support until you found yourself eye to eye with him. Without a word he took the drive from you and slipped it in his breast pocket. His flesh hand cupped your cheek. Blazing blue eyes searched your soul before his lips brushed over yours. Warmth rushed through every fibre of your body. As he pulled back slightly, you ached with want, with need. Lifting your right hand from the rung you caught his stubbled chin and pressed a kissed to the dimple before ghosting a kiss at each corner of his mouth. With a sharp inhale Bucky kissed you softly, almost reverently. He deliberately took his time, a sharp contrast to the fierce kiss in the maze. This was so much better than you had ever imagined, his lips firm and soft though roughened by the stubble peppering his face. You gasped when his tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking access to your mouth. Once granted his tongue carefully tasted and teased, licking along your teeth and sending shivers down your spine. His tongue brushed yours and you could taste the whiskey he had been nursing earlier. Your thighs pressed together at his luscious licks, imagining that wicked tongue somewhere else. The hand holding his chin moved to drift through his hair while the other arm wrapped around his thick frame. Chests pressed together your leg slowly slid up and wrapped around his waist, grinding against him as you captured and sensually suckled his tongue. With a groan Bucky lifted you off the ladder and held you close. Your other leg wrapped around him as you continue to rub against him. 

Bucky’s lips moved to leave  a wet trail on your face, neck and chest. His right hand moved down your dress and snuck in along the slit. Cerulean eyes widened when he found how wet you were for him.

“The maze” you whisper, answering his unasked question.  

Nuzzling your neck, his fingers slid under the material and glided through your soaking folds. You bit back a moan when he brushed over your clit. One thick finger pushed  inside you, causing you to arch into him. “Fuck… so tight, baby”. As he moaned in your ear, another finger entered you. His thumb brushed your clit as his fingers curled upward. “Squeezing me so tight… God you feel so good”. The only sound that you could hear was your panting and the sound of his fingers fucking you. A burning pressure began to build.

“Barnes” you whimpered, humping his hand frantically. 

“That’s it sweet girl, cum for me”. Bucky’s smile widened as you clamped down on his fingers, his mouth swooping down over yours to catch any noise. 

Using his Vibranium arm to lift you higher, Bucky’s flesh hand fumbled to undo the waistband of his trousers. The sound of a zipper opening reached your ears. Searching blindly your fingers grasped his hot velvet flesh and gently squeezed the tip.

“Been hard since I first saw you in this dress earlier today”. Your eyes widened at the understanding Bucky had wanted you before leaving for the mission. “I wanted to break the fingers of that asshole who dared to touch you”. 

Longing flooded you at the dark threat. “Want you so much. Bucky… Please” you whimpered.

As he rubbed the head of his cock through your folds and over your clit his gaze burned into you, marking you. Lowering you slowly onto his cock, both of you groaned as the thick flesh stretched you deliciously. Once his groin met yours, you let out a small whine at being filled so deeply. 

Before he could move the door to the room opened, chatter and light filling the quiet space. Bucky quietly pushed the ladder back toward its original position before pressing you against the fireplace wall, only the length of the fireplace wall and shadows caused by the fire hiding your presence from the newcomers. Bucky’s eyes never left yours but you could tell his attention was elsewhere. Annoyance swept through you at the second interruption of the night chased by desire. Right now, you didn’t care that your mission was to infiltrate the home of a Hydra agent to steal essential intelligence. Right now, all that mattered was that Bucky - the man who you’d wanted for so long -  was here with you, inside you. These people could notice you at any moment, could catch Bucky balls deep inside you… 

At the thought, your core clenched around him which caused Bucky to let out a muffled curse. His dark brow raised in silent query. You’d never felt so exposed, so reckless and you wanted him in it with you. Rocking your hips, you tried to start moving against him. Bucky’s hold on you tightened as he shifted. A whimper escaped you as he nudged your clit with his movements. His flesh hand covered your mouth, both of you straining to hear any hints that you had been detected. But the chatter carried on, ignorant to the raw exhibition only a few feet away. 

Bucky placed a single finger against your lips in warning. You gently licked his finger before nipping the tip and sucking it into your mouth. Jaw dropping, he inhaled slowly before he began to move. Tongue swirling around the digit, your sucking matched the pace of his slow and steady thrusts. As his body temperature began to rise you were caught in a delightful concoction of senses - Bucky’s scent of sandalwood mixed with the smell of the library, drowning in the depths of his loving and lustful gaze, tasting the slight tang of your arousal on his finger and the feel of his body caging you as you clung tightly to Bucky, trying to pull him even closer. Cautiously he positioned you against the shelf, leaving you immobilised and unable to do anything except continue to take his measured movements. He began to roll his hips and pulled back before repeating the motion. As a wave of heat began to build, you could swear you felt his cock harden further. “Cum” he breathed in your ear. The dam broke and the tidal wave of pleasure overwhelmed you. Feeling a cry rise in your throat you kissed Bucky desperately. With a gasp he twitched inside you, filling you as he rolled his hips to prolong the pleasure as long as possible.

Distantly, you heard the door open and close. Only the gentle crackling of the fire and soft panting filled the room now. Bucky lowered you till you stood on slightly wobbly legs and slowly pulled out of you. Removing a handkerchief from his pocket, he carefully wiped between your legs before doing the same to himself. Eyes locked with yours, he tugged your underwear and dress back into place before tucking himself back into his pants, placing the folded handkerchief into his pants pocket. Leaning forward he caught your mouth in a soft tender kiss. “That should’ve been our first kiss” he murmured. 

“So what happens now?” You hated to think that this had only happened because of the mission, that nothing had changed. When his fingers entwined with yours, you were surprised to see him smiling softly.

“Long term? I want to court you baby, for you to be my girl and me to be your guy. But now? We leave, head home and handover the drive”. A twinkle danced in his eye as his smile changed to a smirk. “And then I want to hear you all night. No interruptions. No being quiet.” His brow puckered in confusion when you giggled. “What?”

“Looks like we’ll both be giving Sam something to complain about”.

[winterarmyy]

A Fucking Treasure

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

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

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.1k++

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

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

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

Read my other works here: Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

It was Y/N.

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

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

She was breathtaking.

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

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

But now, she was here. Alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Safe. 

Wanted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

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

[sosa2imagines]

An Alley of Passion

Warning- Smut, Steve Rogers is a warning, sex in an alley, little bit of tearing of clothes, dominance.

Disclaimer- This is my submission for @mercurial-chuckles writing challenge, "Smutty September Fest" I hope everyone who reads likes it.

The plan was simple, enter the sophisticated nightclub, head to the back room, and collect the data.

But things rarely ever went according to plan. As soon as you and Steve entered the main floor of the club, the two of you were spotted by some goons.

You wore the expensive black halter dress, courtesy of Tony’s money. It was tight against your body, fitting perfectly against every dip and curve.

Steve, your partner on this mission, looked absolutely stunning in a tight black shirt and black pants. It hugged his body in all the right places and made his blue eyes stand out even more.

Despite the odds being against the two of you, you and Steve managed to fight off the goons and retrieved the data you came here for. However, just as you breathed a sigh of relief, more goons arrived, this time armed with deadly weapons, leaving you both cornered.

Steve grabs your hand and runs towards the exit. With the goons high on chase, Steve takes a turn towards an alley assuming it's empty.

However the two of you found yourselves in a surprising situation as you looked around. Instead of the empty, dark alley you'd expected, it was filled with couples. Some were engaged in deep conversation, others were whispering sweet nothings, and yet others were passionately making out.

Steve and you knew that the best way to avoid suspicion would be to blend in.

Steve leaned over and whispered against your ear, “Do you trust me?” You could hear the edge in his voice, the hint of urgency in his words. You nodded, looking into his eyes and hoping he had a plan to get you both out of this sticky situation.

In a swift and unexpected move, Steve pushed you against the wall. His body was so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He then turned, placing his back facing the goons, effectively shielding you with his body, his hand slipping around your waist.

Steve's grip on your waist was firm, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own. The steady rise and fall of his chest provided a sense of stability amidst the chaos.

Despite the dire situation, the sensation of being held so closely by him was electrifying, both comforting and thrilling at the same time as your heart pounded in your chest.

Time seemed to stretch out impossibly thin as the two of you stood there in silence. You could hear the goons continue their search nearby, their footsteps echoing through the alley, each sound sending a jolt of adrenaline through your system, making your heart rate quicken.

All the while, Steve stood close, his body acting as both a shield and a safety net, providing a sense of security in the midst of chaos.

As the silence continued, you swallowed, attempting to moisten your suddenly dry throat. The close intimacy of your shared space, with your body firmly against Steve's, added a new layer of intensity to the danger that surrounded you.

Every part of your being felt more alive than ever before, and as he shifted and tightened his grip on you, you felt a flutter deep within your stomach, a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Steve could feel the tension radiating from your body as you leaned slightly into him. He drew in a steady breath, attempting to calm himself. His own heart was beating erratically, and the realization of this took him by surprise.

It wasn't just the adrenaline from the situation that heightened his awareness, the proximity of your body to his had added a new layer of complexity. The protectiveness he was feeling towards you was no longer just professional; it had become deeply personal.

With the goons closing in, checking the couples around them, Steve knew he had to act fast. In a split second, his instincts kicked in, and he acted on impulse, pulling you closer and kissing you.

The action was abrupt, unexpected, but undeniably necessary to sell their cover. He could feel the soft surprise of your lips against his, the taste of your gasp, and the heat that suddenly emanated from your body.

The moment his lips met yours, a rush of heat and electricity surged through your body. Despite the shock of his impulsiveness, you found yourself responding, your body instinctively leaning into the kiss. The world around you faded as the warmth of his mouth against your own washed over you, making your head swim for a brief moment.

As Steve's lips pressed against yours, his body trapping you against the cold, rough wall, the action held a multitude of meanings. On one hand, it was a desperate measure to keep their cover, to blend in with the other couples in the alleyway. But on a more primal, subconscious level, it was also a release of the built-up tension he hadn't even been aware he'd been carrying until that very instant.

The battle between Steve's mind and body was palpable. His body responded in a way that he hadn't anticipated, his mind striving to catch up and make sense of the situation.

The kiss deepened, and he pressed you closer against the wall. While on some level, he knew it was a necessary part of the act to maintain the ruse, the way your body fitted against his, the taste and feel of you, felt intensely real, igniting a sense of awareness that he couldn't deny.

The goons finally moved on, leaving the narrow alley once again secluded. Steve slowly broke the kiss, his breath ragged and his voice a low rumble against your ear as he spoke. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” The words were tinged with a hint of frustration and pent-up desire, suggesting that he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in his taut muscles as he slowly backed up, allowing some space between the two of you. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of protectiveness and frustration, his eyes burning into yours.

You mustered the courage to speak up, meeting his gaze with a hint of daring. “I don't regret it…” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

A flicker of surprise flickered across Steve's face, replaced quickly with a look of desire that sent your heart racing. “Good.” he murmured in response. Before you could react, he closed the distance between you once again, claiming your lips in another heated kiss.

The kiss was hungry, filled with a raw need that caught you off guard. Steve's hands came up to cup your face, angling it to deepen the kiss, his tongue seeking entry into your mouth. You responded willingly, your bodies pressing closely together, both seeking and taking what the other offered.

The world faded away, the only point of focus being the heady sensation of Steve's mouth on yours. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt, craving the contact. The kiss was primal, filled with an untamed passion that left you both momentarily breathless.

Steve's voice was a low, commanding growl, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “I. need. you. Now!” he emphasized, his words filled with an possessive intensity that sent heat pooling in your stomach. The need in his voice was undeniable, a demand that was impossible to resist.

You turned around, with your back pressed against his chest. Steve's hands roamed you body, as they slowly guided up your chest.

His palms perfectly cupped your breasts, feeling their weight, he kneaded them. An obscene moan escaped his lips.

Steve's hands were everywhere as he turns you around, rough and impatient, he began to tear the fabric of your dress, creating a perfect slit down the center. The sound of the material giving way was loud in the silence of the alley.

Steve's gaze roamed over the torn dress, a lopsided smirk playing on his lips. “Much better,” he declared, his voice roughened with desire. “I'll buy you a new one.”

You could only shake your head in response, your mind too wrapped up in the haze of desire to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak.

In one swift motion, Steve's hands moved to your hips, lifting you up and bringing you against his body, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. The action left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, heightening the sensation of his hard muscles pressed against your curves.

Steve's mouth claimed yours again, his kiss deep and urgent, his tongue tangling with yours in a desperate dance of lust and need. His body moved against yours, the friction between your bodies igniting a fire within you. Your hips rocked slightly against his, seeking more of that delicious friction.

Steve's hands moved from your hips to your thighs, his fingers gripping the delicate material of your flimsy underwear. Your breath hitched in your throat as he began to tear the fabric in a one swift, possessive motion.

The thought of how much your torn panties had cost flickered through your mind, but as soon as Steve's teeth found your neck, at the sensitive spot that sent waves of pleasure through your body, any concern about the ruined garment vanished.

Your sharp intake of breath was both involuntary and a clear indication that you were entirely focused on the sensations Steve was stirring within you.

His teeth nipped at the skin softly before his tongue soothed the sting, his lips trailing down to your collarbone and sucking gently. You arched into his touch, silently begging for more, your body responding fiercely to his kisses and bites.

Steve's command, delivered in a low, urgent tone broke the silence between you. “Undo my pants, doll, set me free!” he ordered, his voice filled with a raw desire that sent shivers down your spine. Your hands trembled slightly as your fingers worked to undo his pants, your obedience a testament to the power he held over you in that moment.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the restraint he was exercising to keep himself in check. Finally, his pants fell open, giving you access to what you both craved. You could feel the heat of his hardness against your core.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, your body reacting instinctively to the contact. Steve's hips moved against yours, his hard length pressing against your sensitive pussy, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His mouth claimed yours again, his kiss now more desperate, urgent, mirroring the fire that was burning between the two of you.

Steve dipped his fingers inside you, to see if you are ready for him, before putting them in his mouth, making a show of sucking them making an obscene sound that made you crave him more.

“Steve please…” You moan, gently rolling your hips against him, the anticipation almost driving you over the edge. He pauses as his eyes move over you, drinking in the sight of you, his breathing is heavy. “You're so beautiful...” he says, sliding a hand up your thigh to your hip.

Steve kisses you deeply as he pushes into you, your pussy takes all of him in. His thick length stretches your walls.

“Yes...” escaped your lips, the word a mix of pleasure and relief.

His breath catches in his throat, at the feel of you wrapped around him. His hips soon found a suitable pace, as he starts to move against you slowly. “So tight and perfect...”

You cling to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. There was no gentleness in his movements, only the primal need to claim you entirely. Each thrust was a testament to his desire, a reminder of the pent up tension between the two of you.

Your bodies moved together in desperate harmony, desperate need driving each movement. The sound of skin against skin, the harsh pants and moans filling the air, created an intimate symphony that was a reflection of the intense connection.

Steve speeds up, making your breath hitch. He presses deeper and your nails slightly dig into his shoulders. “Steve...” you moan his name, as he hits deep in your cunt, making all your thoughts scatter.

“Look at me, doll,” Steve's command was punctuated with a powerful thrust, the words spoken between grunts and pants. He wanted your eyes on him, needed to see your reaction as he claimed you, his gaze burning into yours.

Each movement was a testament to his dominant presence, his desire to take control and possess you entirely. With each breath, the air grew hotter between the two of you, the connection both physical and emotional.

His grip on your hips tightened, his touch a mixture of possessiveness and tenderness. In this moment, you were entirely his, your body responding to his every touch, your desire matching his own. The world outside faded away.

He watched intently, his gaze fixated on every flicker of pleasure that flitted across your face, his name becoming a mantra on your lips, a silent testament to the power he held over you.

He increased his pace, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate. He was losing himself in the feel of you, the way your body responded to his touch, the sounds of pleasure that escaped your lips.

His mouth found yours, his lips hungry and demanding. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours in a frenzy of passion.

As he hit a spot deep inside you that made you cry out in pleasure. He smiled against your lips, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

He continued to move, his movements becoming faster and more frantic. He was lost in the sensations, consumed by the feel of you and the sound of your moans in his ears.

His movements were growing more erratic as his own desire threatened to overtake him. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, but he forced himself to hold back, wanting to make you come first.

“Just let go, doll…” he whispers in your ear, his hips moving faster, his lips against yours. The words push you over the edge and you cry out his name, against his lips, as waves of pleasure wash over you.

You moaned into the kiss, as you came hard, Steve followed suit as he spent himself inside you. Filling you up to the brim. Catching his breath, he buried his face in your neck.

Steve gently set you down, his hands supporting your shaking legs until you were steady on your feet. Despite the intensity of the moment, his touch was tender, a stark contrast to the fierce need that had consumed him moments before.

As you stood there, trying to get your bearings, Steve smirked, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Can you walk, doll?” He asked, his tone light but filled with a smug satisfaction.

“I...I think you were a little too rough...” you retorted, a playful pout on your lips as you tested your legs, finding them shaky and unreliable.

As you took a few tentative steps, you found your legs still weak and unstable. Before you could even react, Steve scooped you up in his arms with an ease that made your heart skip a beat.

“I know you can walk,” he said, his tone amused but affectionate. “But I'm not done with you yet, doll, and I want you to save your energy.”

You couldn't help but gasp as you saw the look in Steve's eyes. The intensity in his gaze, the fire that burned within him told you that this night had only just begun. A mix of anticipation and trepidation filled your heart, knowing that the night would be long and passionate.

Also dedicated to @rogerbarnesss @buckysdoll85 @caplanbuckybarnes

[steviebbboi]

His Little Gem

Pairing: BandMember!Curtis x F!LeadSinger!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k~ highkey relieved that im able to write a shorter lengthed story this time lol

Summary: You and Curtis finally have a moment alone. Though, it turns out that Curtis actually loves the attention.

Disclaimer: This is my submission for @mercurial-chuckles writing challenge, "Smutty September Fest"~ Thank you lad for hosting this, and hoping that everyone enjoys this as much I loved writing it.

I also wrote this as a part of my eventual Bandmember!Curtis series from this poll. However, you can absolutely read this as a standalone.

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't demureeee~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; HIGHKEY its PWP but plot nonetheless, explicit sex/smut, p in v sex, oral sex (f! receiving), slight exhibitionism kink, praise kink, squirting, explicit language, slight/mild dumbification, slight/mild degradation kink, pussy slapping, dacryphilia kink, manhandling soft dom! curtis, slight overstimulation play, secret and established relationship btwn curtis and Reader. nickname for Reader is Sapphire/gem. if i missed anything, pls feel free to lmk~

Prompts Used: 2) sex in front of a big window where anyone could glance up and spot them; 5) body worshipping

A/N: ~I really appreciate ya'll for interacting with my fics! It's so cool to know that my writing resonates and is enjoyed by many. That said, it's common for fic writers to face huge ratio disparities with likes/reblogs. If you could kindly reblog my work as you enjoy it, that would be much appreciated! Reblogging gets our work out there for more folx to enjoy and genuinely encourages us to continue writing. It's a conflict on here for a reason -- know that this is said with much sincerity and kindness. Support writers please~

Tongues caressed each other in a greedy yet languid dance, your lips meeting Curtis’ so passionately as you both rode the high of finally having a moment alone together. 

“Mmph, God, I missed you, sapphire.” Curtis mumbled against your plush lips. His tongue eagerly lapped at yours as you whimpered in response.

Just registering his words, your laugh was muffled against his pressing mouth, “Miss me? Curt, we see each other everyday.” Another giggle attempted to escape but Curtis was skilled at keeping you distracted at this point.

His lips were still enthusiastically leaning in for more as small giggles escaped you, “I missed being with you. Your lips, your body pressed against mine. Especially, when I get to feel you like this.” He said emphatically as he dragged his calloused palms up your thighs and around till he was able to gain a desperate grip on your ass. 

You both moaned as Curtis groped you roughly, one of his hands leaving your ass only to land a loud slap against your pert cheek. You squealed playfully into his mouth while Curtis groaned deeply and did it again. 

Your short mini skirt was ruched around your hips as you rocked your center into the hardening tent in his jeans. Even through the fabric of your panties, which was dampening by the second, Curtis could feel the warmth of your wet pussy just seeping into the denimed layer covering his hard cock. 

Lips separating for a moment to allow the both of you to catch your breaths, Curtis looked at you darkly through his long eyelashes and grabbed your hips to slowly grind your pussy across his stiff member. 

Whining in response, your head tilted back in pleasure, giving Curtis the opportunity to leave lavish kisses all across the side of your neck. You felt your hips stutter as his wet lips sucked at that sensitive spot right underneath your ear. His tongue licked against your pulse, and your breathing started to get heavier as he continued sucking at your fragrant skin. 

“Curt–Curtis, the window…” You drawled out mindlessly as he continued laying kisses on your throat. His stubble made your skin red and blotchy and it stung so beautifully as his mouth balanced the pain with pleasure.

His back to the large window, you were straddling Curtis’ lap on the couch facing the city skyline in your penthouse condo. Only faint lights from other people’s apartments could be seen. If you focused hard enough, you could clearly see neighbors in buildings across from you eating dinner, or watching tv. 

As clearly as you could see them, you’re sure that you and Curtis could be visibly seen, even though the only thing that illuminated both of your silhouettes was the living room lamp casting a warm glow on your pressed and writhing bodies. 

“What about it, baby?” Curtis asks, just as mindless as you were at this point. His thoughts and senses were all enveloped around you.  

You could only gasp for air as one of his hands left your ass to grip onto and tug on your hair roughly, allowing such an erotic moan to leave your pillowy lips. His grip that remained on your ass only squeezed tighter when he heard your response. 

“God, -phire, you’re killing me. C’mere.” He used the hand at the base of your skull to push your swollen lips back onto his impatient ones. You whimpered into his mouth again as his soft tongue reunited with yours with a passion that felt so matched. Curtis was the only person that you have been with that has ever been able to make you feel this way. So unruly, excited, fiery, and intense. 

You both acknowledged the energy between you in your own ways since you have met.  Whether it was Curtis’ soft grasp around your waist navigating the paps outside the recording studio, or your hand gripping onto the inside of his elbow as you were in between stage sets. 

Safe and protected was how you ultimately felt when you were with Curtis. Combining that with being the best sex of your life, you felt invincible. He made you feel that way, and you liked being his Sapphire.

Even now as the rough texture of his hands, worn from years of playing, tugged on the sides of your lace panties down around your knees. He manhandled you onto your back as you giggled again, he ripped your panties from your legs completely. Curtis kneeled between your open legs, his shadowed eyes maintaining eye contact with your hooded ones. One hand gripped the outside of your ankle gently as he pressed his lips against your soft skin. 

You let out a soft gasp as his tender touch. He was slowly kissing up towards your center, his kisses getting wetter the closer that he got. A quiet whimper left your lips as Curtis left another wet kiss on your hip bone, and moved to kiss above your aching mound. The anticipation felt so strong - you released a bothered keen when Curtis didn’t land his lips on the correct destination, but instead, decided to lower down towards your other leg’s inner thigh and down towards the inside of your bent knee. 

“Curtis, please, kiss me.” You begged him with your eyes burning with frustrated tears.

Curtis laughed meanly as he responded, “I am kissing you, sapphire.”

You sobbed out a frustrated moan, “Ugh, you know what I mean – please! It’s been too long.” 

Curtis issued a low hum in agreement as he continued leaving soft kitten kisses on the inside of your knee, only moving slightly upwards towards your inner thigh and back down. His hands slowly caressed your legs in the places that his lips couldn’t touch. “Oh, I know, pretty girl. But that’s what makes this so fun for me.” 

A tear fell down the side of your face, as you sniffled your discontent at his pleasurable cruelty. Curtis knew your limits and knew that you would’ve said your safe word some time ago if you really wanted him to stop the slow approaches on your body. You both knew that Curtis teasing you was the build up that your body and mind needed. You needed to lose yourself a little bit in order to be fully present and attuned with the pleasurable sensations that Curtis will start and leave you with. 

Curtis cooed at you as he saw your distressed tears leave your eyes. “Aw, my little gem is frustrated, huh?” 

You nodded your assent with another sniffle as you looked into his bright eyes burning with a palpable affection and need for you. Seeing that glint in his eyes only made you cry a little harder and swallow down another sob, as you also missed Curtis when you were just like this. Him between your legs, gazing at you with such impassioned eyes that just landed so intensely. Your body burned so good, you couldn’t really handle it. 

“Okay, okay, sapphire. God, you’re so pretty when you cry, fuck.” Curtis moaned for you as he leaned up so that his face was over yours. His lips landed a wet and thorough kiss upon your deprived mouth. You continued to passionately make out for another minute as Curtis stripped you of your tee and lace bra. But he left the small mini skirt on all bunched up around the curve of your waist. His hands were free to roam the rest of your soft, aching body, spending time around your breasts to squeeze and pinch at your perky nipples. 

“I’ll give you what you need, my pretty baby, I got you.” He whispered against your open mouth as he drifted down to kiss at your neck briefly before enveloping his lips around your hard nipple. You inhaled air sharply at the feeling of his soft tongue swirling around the hardened nub while his other hand fondled at your other breast. The contrast of his warm, wet, soft tongue on one nipple and his gravelly touch on the other felt so euphoric. 

The need for him was just building bigger and bigger deep inside of you as he continued laving at your nipples. He alternated his kisses and touch on both of your breasts. You were also starkly aware of the fact that he was still fully clothed as the fabric of his jeans felt so good against your plush exposed skin. You moaned louder at the realization and your hips writhed up against his cloth covered chest. 

“Curtis, Curtis – fuck, I-I think I’m gonna–agh!” All of a sudden, the knot that was building deep in your stomach just unraveled as you came hard. Your pussy clenched around nothing as Curtis just made you cum from just playing with your tits. Curtis groaned deeply as he felt your wetness spread on his skin as your pussy dampened the layer of his shirt.  

He released his steady sucking of your nipples to look up at your pleasure-filled expression, your eyes dropped with soft satisfaction and sleepiness as you caught your breath. 

“Mmm, you’re such a good girl for me, little gem. Your body is so responsive - one of the things that I love about you.” Curtis praised as you released a chirp, his affirmations landed so well on your sated body.

“Wanna continue feeling good, baby?” He said as he finally lowered himself to land his lingering eyes upon your pulsing cunt. You nodded slowly while biting your lip, almost dumbly, as he used his thumb to cut the layer of stringy wetness that covered your pussy.

“Even your pussy cries for me, huh? So sweet,” he groaned while he licked up the first layer of your wetness. You moaned at the feeling of his moist tongue finally lapping at your weepy cunt. Your hips squirmed at the feeling but Curtis quickly used his strong arms to keep your hips down and legs wide open. 

He moaned at the taste of you and spent time firmly and slowly licking around the area of your clit. You released a high pitched moan when you felt his tongue maintaining steady pressure and swirling around your sensitive spot. You bit your lip to quiet down, feeling a bit embarrassed by your reactiveness.

It was like Curtis could sense your deliberate muffling and he released your swollen button only to land a sharp slap against your soaked pussy. You squealed at the sudden sensation and groaned deeply as his lips found your clit shortly after to weather the sudden pain. 

Your whimpers quieted down again but Curtis proceeded to smack your pussy again with a determined low groan. Before he landed another suck at your puffy clit, he said, “Don’t hide your pleasure from me, sapphire. Don’t ever do that with me, got it?” He landed another sharp slap with the flat of his hand and tapped at your clit in quick taps while you quite literally answered his demand with unfiltered and resonant moans. 

He sucked your clit back in his mouth and made quick laps and motions directly on it. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you gripped the back of his buzz cut head with need. The feeling of his tongue just sliding against you so swiftly and with wild abandon released your second orgasm of the night, in complete bliss as you abandoned any sense of being quiet. 

The both of you breathed heavily as you attempted to catch your breath once more. You looked down slowly at Curtis to see him still gazing at your drenched pussy. Your cum covered his mouth and beard in a light sheen, and his lips looked pink and swollen as he licked the remaining slick from them sensually. 

You whined again tiredly as you knew what that look meant. Curtis was obsessed with eating you out. It was like everytime that he tasted you, he couldn’t help himself from trying to get more and more from you. 

“Curtis, please, I need your cock inside of me.” Your timidness disappeared as you interrupted his thoughts on going back in for seconds. 

Curtis slapped your still twitching pussy again as you panted out responsive, high-pitched moans, so overstimulated that you could feel the knot in your tummy tighten again as you tried to writhe away from his calloused grip. 

“No, no, sweet girl, you’re not going anywhere, c’mere–  I haven’t had enough of this messy pussy yet, you’re still gushing for me.” Curtis groaned into your wet mound as he roughly manhandled you to sit up on your knees. 

You whimpered at his dirty words and at his rough touch as he bent you forward and adjusted you to lean your forearms on the tops of your couch, facing the window. But now, instead of just your face being visible to the night sky, your breasts hung seductively and your hair was mussed from your throes of pleasure. With Curtis kneeling behind you, it was obvious that you were not just star-gazing into the open city. 

“Wa-wait, Curtis, the people…” you said hesitantly while you turned your head slightly to look back at him.

Curtis found the hesitance in your eyes but also found that eagerness that you had at the thought of being seen. He knew what you really wanted, and he needed to give it to you. His eyes hardened into something dominating as he quickly leaned over your arched back to grip and tug at your hair again. You moaned as your head tilted back with his grip to alleviate the sharp pain. 

You felt Curtis’ warm breath at your ear as he whispered lowly, “They could never have you anyways, sapphire. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Let them look.”

He released the grip on your hair as you mewled a greedy assent. He placed a demanding hand on the back of your neck so that you faced forward, eyes directly meeting other light-filled rooms with a gaze so turned on, you knew that you wouldn’t let him take you any other way. 

You gasped out for another gulp of air when you felt his tongue lapping at your cunt from behind. Your back arched in delight and your ass pushed back into his insatiable mouth. It didn’t take long for you to reach your inevitable end as Curtis was ruthless in his meal. 

You swallowed heavily as your mouth dried from how loud you were moaning. Your eyes widened as you cried out at the sensation of the tip of Curtis’ large cock catching at the inside of your sopping pussy. Hips pushing back against his cock to get him further inside of you, Curtis slapped your ass and whispered a mellowed, “patience, baby.”

Feeling your facial features twist into something needy, you gasped again– but not at the feeling of Curtis’ teasing cock, but at the sight of a person leaning against their apartment balcony that faced you. You weren’t close enough to make out any features other than a bodied silhouette, but you were suddenly so aware that if he tilted his head a bit upwards, he would also be able to make out yours and Curtis’ moving bodies. 

You felt Curtis dip his mushroom head inside of you further but not pushing all the way in. Your eyes rolled briefly again at the feeling of your walls aching to tense around the girth of his wide cock as you tried to gain enough sense to communicate. With gritted teeth, you moaned, “Fuck, there’s someone out there, Curtis.” There was a part of you conscious of someone looking up and finding you and Curtis just fucking, being splattered all over the front page of tabloids. 

Curtis gave his own pussy-drunk response with a mindless “huh?” and looked towards where your head was pointed. Laughing darkly, he just said, “Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep an eye out, baby. Or don’t–  either way, I’m still gonna fuck you till I get my fill, or until you eventually pass out from being all drunk on my cock.”

At the end of his possessive words, Curtis swiped his length at the wetness of your pussy before sliding in slow and deep. You keened loudly at the feel of him so deep inside of you, your walls accommodated him so snugly from how wet you were. 

Curtis dropped his head back in absolute bliss as he gripped onto your bunched skirt for a better grip. Looking down at your deprived body, the image of his hands using a pinched piece of fabric as leverage to thrust back against his penetrating cock made him moan wildly. 

“Fuck, you really are my gem, baby. Pussy was made for my cock, gripping me so tight, fuuuck.” He said as he thrusted in and out, still moaning out his pleasure at the feeling of you. 

You felt your skirt digging into the soft swell of your tummy as Curtis pulled you back onto his piercing cock. There were so many sensations running through you, both Curtis’ degrading words and the thought of just being fucked by him like a rag doll, like he was just using you turned you on so good. You could feel your body getting limper and your eyes were no longer trained on the person standing in their balcony. 

You quietly whimpered your contentment at getting fucked by Curtis, your mouth was agape as his thrusts were getting faster and harder. Leaning even lower onto the top of the couch, your body arched into an angle that allowed Curtis’ wide cock to hit you at a different angle that made you keen and gasp again. 

Curtis felt that patch of skin inside you that felt different from your inner walls and grunted in efforts of meeting it with every thrust. You gasped and moaned wildly at the feeling of him thrusting against your g-spot, and felt the sensation of another orgasm rushing in, “Yes! Yes! Please, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, Curtis, please!” you sobbed loudly while you rested your limp head on the couch near your aching arms.

Curtis seared the image of your soft and pliant body just letting him use you and growled out, “Cum for me, pretty baby. You’re taking my cock so well, my little gem. I knew you could– cum for me.” He thrusted harder at the anticipation of your sweet cunt tightening around him, the visuals and excitement of what was to come was enough for him to chase after his own release. The sensations of your wet cunt and feeling of your soft body under his well-practiced hands made him feral for you everytime.

Feeling so worshiped and desired, getting his permission to cum felt like a privilege as your head dropped further into a deep, fuzzy mental space. Your pussy squirted around his still thrusting cock as you sighed and moaned your intense pleasure.

Curtis only groaned deeply at finally feeling your velvet walls tighten against his shaft, and the sight of your squirt spilling and squelching out of you only made him feel the sensations even more. He released another guttural moan as he thrusted deeply inside of you, no longer being able to hold back his own release. 

You both moaned in satisfaction at the feeling of your combined spend being plugged inside of you as Curtis didn’t pull out. He leaned forward on your relaxed form to place soft, content kisses upon the curve of your spine. 

Stepping back to pull out of you, you gasped at the feeling of his cum spilling out of you slowly. Curtis let out a breathless laugh at the sight and groaned out his deep enjoyment of seeing you full of his spend. 

He slowly took off your now wrinkled skirt from your body and re-adjusted you so that the both of you could lay on the couch. Curtis’ large hands softly stroked and kneaded tension away from your lower back as you laid on top of him when you remembered the person on the balcony. 

You softly gasped and sat up abruptly to look down at where the person was standing. There was nobody there anymore, and you could only hope that they didn’t see. 

Looking back down at Curtis, you smacked his chest with a teasing and tired mirth, “‘Let them see’? Really, Curtis.”

Curtis released his own tired chuckle while his caresseses on your back moved to softly stroke at the soft sides of your tummy and waist. “It’s okay, sapphire. I kept an eye on them to make sure that they couldn’t actually see us.”

You hummed as your hands brushed at the hair on his muscular chest. “You know that we have to be careful. I’m not ready for the world to know that you’re mine yet.” 

At the quietness of your tone and downward shift of your eyes, Curtis could tell that you meant what you said sincerely. You both enjoyed the kinkiness of your sex life, but you also knew that there was a vulnerability in your relationship that you didn’t want exposed to the public. Or, to the rest of the band for that matter. 

Truthfully, he wasn’t ready to share you yet either. 

The thought of you being hounded by press and fans made his soft grip tighten on your hips a bit with a frown before he motioned for you to press down against him again with soft encouragement. 

Getting comfortable in his arms, you pressed your ear against his steady, thrumming heart and sighed in content. 

“I know, my little gem. I’ll keep you safe.” They were the last words that you heard as your tired eyes closed in blissful exhaustion in the shielding arms of the man that loved you.

A/N: Yay! What did we think? This goes w.o saying but pleaaase leave a comment or a reblog to kindly tell me your thoughts (genuinely, wanna know)! Hopefully, we will see more bandmember!Curtis x Sapphire in this future~

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[rissararity]

Grumpy Alpha Logan x feminine sunshine omega

(Unprotected P/v sex, slight breeding fetish, omegaverse, no knotting cause I'm not into that part, spitting in mouth, choking, Primal play, both degradation and praise sprinkled about. Dom Logan. Cumflation/belly bulge, slight Sadist/Masochist. NO daddy kink! Just a primal, attitude checking fuck)

Word count: 3,466

“Do we need to talk about anything?” Logan asked, stepping into the darkened kitchen to see the omega that had been largely ignoring all the alphas lately and sassing back more than usual.

She got some water from the refrigerator door and glared at him, “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

He raised his brows, slowly stepping closer as she drank her water. This was pretty much the first time he’d seen her all day, and it was actually the following day; the glowing clock showing 12:07AM.

“I’m your overseer, weather you like it or not. Watch your tone.” He growled.

“I’m not a baby, Logan. I was nice about it before but let me tell you in no uncertain terms,” rage bubbled into her voice as she set the glass down and squared her shoulders. “I am fine! You don’t have to follow me around. So do me a favor and FUCK OFF!”

Immediately, her heart sank as he was in her face in a second. She tried to hide the fact that he knocked some of the wind out of her sails.

His irritation filled pheromones swarmed her senses a moment later and her body reacted the way it needed to in order to ensure she got what she needed from Alpha.

Let’s play. Her inner omega purred.

“Look here, Missy,” Logan grabbed Lina’s jaw in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes that darkened with anger, “This attitude of yours needs to stop. You don’t want me to have to remind you of your manners the old fashioned way.” He growled, not missing the flick of excitement in her eyes.

He cocked his head, typical alpha arrogance filling his expression. “Or do you?”

She gave him a daring look before shoving away from him and wrenching her face away.

“Have it your way, Pidge.” A delighted yelp came from her as his calloused hands grabbed her hips and tossed her almost carelessly to the floor.

Before she could react he was shoving her face down and hips up. Logan leaned over her a bit, caging her underneath him and shoving his hardening length against her panty covered warmth.

The force of his thrust pushed her cheek into the cool marble, her breath fogging it a little with each gasp.

The omega gave her all into wiggling out and wrestling against his strength but it was effortless on his part. He actually seemed amused at her attempts to throw herself around.

The entire time no scent of fear rose from her. Only the gradual increase of how wet she became as she experienced his strength firsthand.

“Are you about finished?” he asked when she stopped to catch her breath, sitting up on his knees, keeping his lap flush with her backside. He seized both of her wrists, pinning them swiftly to her back before she could register that she’d been free for a second there. “Lay still, Pidge.”

They both knew she didn’t want to escape. Not really.

It was part of the dance between alpha and omega that was as old as humans themselves. One now considered inappropriate, crude and worse by most…yet Lina reveled in their game.

She loved the dominant pressure he exuded over her, how big he was in every sense of the word, how his own arousal pheromones joined hers in a symphony.

At last, she shuffled her knees impatiently in a primitive dance to give enthusiastic consent despite her act of being outraged by being mounted. She barred her teeth as he adjusted himself with one hand, then froze up as she heard a single claw come out.

“Don’t move. Be a good girl.” His command hit like a soul soother rather than an order since Lina was secretly very happy to obey.

She held her breath to be as still as possible while he easily shredded her panties.

He gave her wrists a carefully measured but plenty firm squeeze to silently remind her to stay still. She huffed in acceptance, cheeks blazing when he backed away to scent her in the most intimate way possible.

Though she was shy, her body responded by sending more slick his way. She started to shake her hips again but froze as Logan gave an irritated growl that made her clit throb.

Lina hadn’t taken an alpha by choice in years, and she didn’t want to lose her chance with him. Of course, Logan was too far into his hind brain to stop now regardless.

Her body gave off more of her intoxicating aroma for his enhanced senses to revel in as means to apologize. A purr came from his chest just before he leaned in for a taste.

“F-fuck!” she moaned, eyes fluttering back as she felt his facial hair adding an extra spark to her pleasure.

He paused, “Soon. I’m not finished with you yet.” Hunger tinged his voice, making her thighs clench. “Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m a good girl.” She agreed, trying to refrain from shoving herself back against his mouth, knowing he was baiting her. She whimpered, flinching when his resulting snicker of amusement puffed air on her sensitive core.

Ego stroked, the alpha leaned back in and ate her out while she panted in pleasure.

She was more than ready by the time he popped his cock in and firmly slid all the way to the base. Both groaned in unison as her stomach boasted a bulge that could only be one thing.

Logan climbed over her and wrapped one arm around her torso, a dangerous growl from him went straight to her clit as he stretched her wider to accommodate him.

Lina whined and whimpered as she embraced the slight sting. She’d obviously taken alpha’s before but this one was bigger than any of the others. Hell, he was the biggest alpha she'd seen in person all around.

Her inner omega adored this fact.

She knew this could be a challenge but when his growl turned into a cool purr, “You’re taking me so well…that’s my good girl.” Her determination grew even stronger and she wiggled her hips a little to reassure him that she was okay and still wanted this.

Lina couldn’t see the flash of relief in his smoldering brown eyes before he slowly pushed in the last couple inches, shivering when he felt the tip lightly hit a wall.

She grunted a little as her stomach was forced to distend in a way only omegas were built for-the reason some alphas stayed single and hoped for an omega and the reason betas died on surgical tables trying to be able to accommodate the larger alphas they coveted.

With much preparation or careful movement in the alpha’s part, they could safely fuck either designation but this felt so natural – given the circumstances that had gotten them here.

They both wanted this to hurt a bit since it was intended as a display of dominance and to “fix” her attitude, honestly she was enjoying it. It’s different with a partner that actually cares about you, even if he tried to hide it. She just met Logan and trusted him more than she'd trusted anyone but an omega in a long time.

So really she trusted him to hurt her safely.

And he did, eagerly pounding into her with enough force to push her forward a little on the floor with each thrust.

He cupped the lump in her belly he knew was his cock and grunted at the increased pressure. “Mmm, please L-Logan!”

An arrogant growl ripped from his throat as he curled his body around her as much as he could as if someone would try to take her from him.

She felt his muscles coil around her and pushed back against him as her hindbrain made her chirp in approval for her partner.

Her inner omega knew biologically speaking that Logan was her favorite alpha I.E the most compatible one thus far, and her body wanted to make sure he knew that-to encourage him to accept her again.

“Ah!” she yelped, rolling her hips back as he nipped at her neck, tongue soothing the pain as soon as he caused it. This didn’t last as he had to force himself to stop that before he slipped up.

After a while, repeated force on her neck from this position was getting uncomfortable, she made a slight sound of genuine pain and Logan froze at once, shoulders heaving as he looked down at her face. Sweat glistened on their bodies from the dull light under the kitchen counter.

“M-my neck…”

He nodded, and in a blur of flesh was sitting her on a towel on the counter. Lina let her alpha position her how he wanted; legs spread obscenely wide while she sat on the edge.

Logan's thumb found her clit as soon as he pushed back inside, both of them moaning in tandem.

He kissed her neck, careful to stay away from her mating glands, and nuzzled the soreness away while grinding into her.

“Please alpha…” she begged, uncaring of how uncouth she was being. Logan actually loved it, especially with the bow in her hair peaking slightly over the top of her head.

His eyes zeroed in on their joining, watching the juice glisten on his thick cock with each retreat. The alpha’s nostrils flared as he tried to inhale their mixed scents, extra sensitive nose trying to commit it to memory

His pheromones were a drug to the omega who eagerly let him use her to fuck out the frustration she’d caused him with her attitude lately.

Logan grunted over her shoulder, slowing and going for strength over speed. If she hadn’t been a mutant, his force would have broken her pelvis.

She whimpered a little at the pain, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. “You need to remember your place here, my little whore.” He slammed once more before pulling most of the way out and holding position.

Lina gave an irritated growl and tried to grab his hip to get him the rest of the way. “No.”

Her blood froze as Logan commanded her, hand slowly fell back to her side. His calloused hand gripped her jaw, making her meet his eyes that burned with lust.

“Now!” She demanded, growing frustrated at the lack of pleasure and forced to kick her legs in a little tantrum as her hindbrain took over.

Her body released more pheromones and slick to try to entice her partner to continue.

His grip tightened to be a bit painful as his eyes hardened, though no actual rage came off him.

“You wanna try that again, Bub?” His voice was low and dangerous, challenging her to keep pushing it. Her now neglected clit throbbed in response, a sign she still felt safe.

Logan watched his omega weigh her options and made an effort not to smirk as defiance solidified in her steel colored eyes.

“I said now.” She hissed impatiently, glancing down at where his tip was just barely inside.

The air grew tense as they played their game again, communicating through eye contact for a few long moments. When she refused to back down, he clicked his tongue.

“You really gotta learn sometime, Princess.”

Just as she opened her mouth to ask, she was -firmly but carefully – dragged to her knees in front of him. Yet when she tried to take him in her mouth he stepped away, taunting dick bouncing against his hair covered abs.

Her whine brought an arrogant smile to his lips for a moment. “So needy for me. But you don’t deserve any more of my cock after that, do you?” he crossed his arms over his broad chest, watching her wide eyes admire them then back to his eyes.

“I do! I’m a good girl. Please!” she begged, blinking up at him, her body tensed at the loss of his touch and she couldn’t help but shift a bit uncomfortably.

“Had to open that big mouth of yours.” He made a show of raising his eyebrows as he got an idea. A long finger tapped his chin, “That’s what got you into this situation, that’s what’s gonna get you out of it.”

Open her mouth for what, if not his cock? No one ever wanted it for anything else.

Noticing her confusion but willingness to comply, he explained. “Alpha wants to spit in your mouth, Sweet Pea. When I’m satisfied, I’ll fill you with so much cum you’ll bloat like a rutted bitch.” He purred the second sentence.

Her cheeks burned with desire as she considered this a fair trade.

“Yes, Alpha. Anything for you. Please.” Her legs shook as she sat on her knees the way that felt natural.

Hearing his designation fall from her lips like that was music to his ears, she looked so beautiful when she opened her mouth for him, eyes full of want and lust.

A purr sounded in his chest as he popped his thumb into her mouth, watching her automatically begin to suck on it while looking at his face.

After only a few seconds he pulled his lips up in a sneer and rubbed her own saliva on her cheek. “Fuckin’ slut.” But the aroused Alpha scent in the air grew even more intense.

His tone made her insides churn with desire. She wanted to beg for his cum but knew he’d only make her wait longer.

Her alpha set his terms, and her hindbrain accepted them.

His large hand easily framed her jaw, gripping it in a way that hurt just the right amount. Lina opened again, looking almost hopeful to receive any gift from her partner.

Logan gathered some saliva and let it slowly stretch through a foot of air and into her waiting mouth. He held her eyes while he did this, dick painfully hard but the game was too good.

When he’d passed it all to her, his grip on her jaw shifted to push more on her cheeks so he could see the indents of his fingers inside as he inspected her.

“Swallow, thank me and ask for more.”

He gently caressed her sore jaw that was already healing the slight bruises before his very eyes. Alpha and omega healing made her heal almost as fast as him – once the pressure was removed.

Logan's command rubbed her brain as her inner omega danced with joy that this alpha was pleased with her.

He very much enjoyed having a partner that could take it; needed one, really.

Part of him wanted to praise her but he wanted to play this game a little longer.

“And call me Wolverine, for now.” He added.

His cock jumped a little as she made a show of swallowing his gift then opened to prove it. “Thank you, Wolverine. Please, please can I have more? I’ll be a good girl from now on.” She blinked up at him with a look of pure obedience only an omega could pull off.

FUCK.

Arrogance filled him as his alpha ego was stroked. He wore a superior look on his face and met her eyes hard while he spit directly into her mouth, noticing a little trail that connected them before it broke and fell onto her chin.

A smirk coiled at his lips while his thumb smeared it before dipping into her mouth for his pile and rubbing it down her lower lip and onto her chin.

“Be a good girl and swallow for me.”

She did, hoping she earned her reward.

He groaned at her immediate acceptance, eyes softening a bit. “Atta girl, Pidge.”

The mage’s eyes rolled back as he raked his fingers through her hair, fingertips leaving sparks dancing across her scalp as he praised her in the most ancient of ways. A chirp of joy as a reaction surprised Logan for a fraction of a second but he quickly did it twice more for her just to watch.

To appreciate how she knit her dark brows in primitive response to the non sexual pleasure. To appreciate how she subconsciously pushed her head into his hand to accept his praise. To appreciate how his spit glistened on her skin when she bit her lip.

He could feel how happy she was with this, inner alpha wanting this omega to be open to him again.

Her body relaxed a little as excitement fluttered in her belly, slick long since having reached her knees by way of her inner thighs.

If it had been a beta that smelled like this, he’d of railed her within an inch of her life long ago. Most betas he took to his bed weren’t the submissive type as hate/angry sex seemed to be the closest to what he truly wanted in the bedroom, in a beta’s eyes.

While it was, without a doubt, more than even most omegas were okay with…it was far from hate sex for them.

The desire to draw out an omegas pleasure alongside his own gave him the strength to enjoy the moment a bit more before-

Logan immediately shoved Lina off her knees and to her back, one of his hands slyly protecting the back of her head as he followed her down.

Supporting himself on one arm, he reached down with the other and shoved two fingers into her, rubbing her clit with his thumb in slow torturous circles.

The omega writhed beneath him, lifting her hips to encourage him but he blatantly ignored it and kept his leisurely pace.

“Such a good little whore for your first time being my spit cup. You deserve a reward, Princess.”

“…Alpha…” she whined, actually sweating as her body cried for him.

Logan grinned, “I wonder what the pretty little whore wants for her reward. Beg for it.”

She knew exactly what she wanted, as did he but he wanted to hear her say it.

“Please, Wolverine, I need your cock. I’ll be good for you from now on! Please, please!”

Only a growl answered her and not a second later, she gasped as she slid across the floor a bit from the force of him slamming back into her.

She panted and begged, curling her arms and legs around his hairy, sculpted body while he gave into his feral desires.

It didn’t take long for a string of curse words roll through his lips as his arms locked her in place beneath him. She could feel each burst as he gave her what she’d needed more than anything in that moment.

He painted her pussy white, claws extending as he did so and scraping the marble floor. Her reactionary orgasm hit like a ton of bricks, moan rendered a strangled cry as Logan covered her mouth.

He grunted as she bit his palm to keep quiet, eyes rolling as his hips locked in the forward position.

At last, her body slumped into the floor as he peeled her limbs off him and slowly pulled out.

A warm, syrupy growl fell from his lips as he watched his thick, creamy load follow him out as she was uncorked.

Then a purr while he carefully used his fingers to push it back in, ignoring her shutter.

“Time to go to bed, Pidge. You’ve had a long night.” He murmured, wishing they could go another round. Wishing he could stay inside her and keep her filled with him.

But that isn’t what this was, and he didn’t want to overstep. Besides, he could sense that his partner was spent and in need of care.

“I’ll say she has! And I gotta say, didn’t take you for a call me by my superhero name type, but it is actually kinda hot.” they both look over at Wade, their beta friend that somehow managed to break into The Avenger’s tower whenever he damn well pleased.

Logan growled, trying to cover the omega who was still too fucked out to care. “Get the fuck outta here you perv, I’ll pluck your fuckin eyes out.”

Wade shrugged and pushed off the wall he’s been leaning on. “I was just dropping by to visit my friend Mistress Black Widow and heard the commotion! Also a little jealous you never tried this with me.” He paused, “Can’t talk too much with a mouth full of cock,” he glanced down at Lina’s blissful expression, “Might take a lot of saliva to shut me up though, better weigh your options but I’m good with either.”

Blushing slightly, Logan hissed at him “Get the fuck out Wade.”

The command hit him but visibly rolled off as he shook out one shoulder a little. “Whatever you say, Wolverine.” He mocked, quickly darting for the doorway just as Logan swiped, claws out.

----------x

Got a little fic for this I'm writing for fun, but I'm ovulating and you gotta strike while the iron is hot!

And yes, Logan and Lina are temporarily staying with The Avengers for plot reasons and bc I don't know much about Xmen

I've been reading so much Logan lately and wanted to throw my hat in the ring. First time writing a lover like Alpha Logan but I think I did pretty well for a first shot.

Thanks for reading!

Reblogs are always appreciated! Submitting this under the a/b/o prompt @mercurial-chuckles

[feedthefandomfest]

BINGO WINNERS BOARD: Smut Edition

All the folks keeping fandom FED 🍽️

❤️‍🔥Full Card Bingo❤️‍🔥

@steddieonbigboy @whinysteve

[fantasyworld4ever]

Perciver {Percy Weasley x Oliver Wood} NSFW

Note: Um, So I wrote this on a writing course in my free time because I got bored.

Warnings: Swearing, cursing, smut, just filthy smut.

Requested: No

Pairing: Percy Weasley x Oliver Wood

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

A ragged breath tore its way out from Percy’s throat as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Ah…” He groaned, his lips parted as his chest heaved for breath.

His hand scrambled for purchase and finally landed on the bar of the bed and he held on, his knuckles turning white. Short, quick gasps escaped his lips 

“Oh, oh fuck,” he cursed under his breath. 

“I take it you’re enjoying this then?” Percy glanced down to meet the smug expression of Oliver Wood. 

“Shut up… Put that mouth of yours to use.” He hissed, his eyes rolling back as Oliver pressed a soft kiss to his inner thigh.

“Getting to that part, patience, my darling.” Deciding to allow Percy some relief, Oliver leaned down, delicately taking the tip of his member between his lips, swiping his tongue gently over the slit making Percy cry out in surprise. 

Oliver smirked before finally taking him in his mouth fully. Now, a string of words left Percy’s mouth, whether it was Oliver’s name, curses or even just babbled noises, he didn’t know.

“That’s it Percy. Let me hear those pretty little noises, hmm?” Oliver grunted as he took Percy deeper, swirling his tongue in a motion that had Percy throwing his head, gasping out in surprise. 

Oliver whined in protest as Percy pulled him off, bringing him up to kiss him gently. 

“I can’t… I need… I need to be inside you, Oliver.” Oliver’s eyes widened before he gave a quick nod, positioning himself so he was straddling Percy now, his back facing away from Percy’s face.

Slowly, he sank down, his eyes widening at the stretch. 

“Oh… Oh Percy…” He gasped out, panting as he rested his hands on Percy’s chest. 

“That’s it. You take it so perfectly.” Percy soothed, reaching up to stroke Oliver’s back.

Oliver cried out as he finally bottomed out. Percy was pretty well endowed, thick as well as long and when Oliver sat up properly, he could see the slight outline of Percy’s member inside his lower abdomen. 

“My perfect little slut, aren’t you?” Percy gasped the words out, his brow creased in pleasure.

“Yours, only yours!” Oliver gasped out as he slowly pushed himself up before sinking back down, crying out as he found a steady pace. 

Percy’s hands found his hips, guiding his pace and keeping him at a quick, rough rate. 

“So good for me… So perfect!” Oliver groaned at the praise and his head slumped forward slightly, sweat beading on his brow. 

Oliver whimpered as he reached his hand down, only for it to be slapped away as Percy grasped his member in his hand instead, jerking Oliver off with quick, harsh movements. Within a few moments, Oliver’s hips stuttered, throwing his head back as he spilled over Percy’s hand. 

“Yes, yes!” Oliver cried out as he felt Percy thrust deep, painting his walls with white streaks.

After a while, they still lay together, Percy’s arms wrapped around Oliver, cradling him close to his body, whispering sweet praises.

“You were so perfect, baby. So perfect for me.” Soothed Percy.

Percy stroked Oliver’s cheek fondly as Oliver rested against him.

“Sleep, I’ll watch over you.” Percy promised as Oliver slowly slipped into his world of dreams.

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

{Phew well that was... something. Anyway, as always my requests are open. This is my first time writing smut so hope it was okay :D}

[imarvelatstars]

who's interested in some acolyte debauchery

[virescent-v]

i don't think i can write anything short.....

this next fic ive got is already 3.6K+ and it's a little more than halfway done.....

🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

[rise-my-angel]

.

[soelstress]

A Shot Of You

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female!reader

Summary: Your new work uniform attracts unwanted attention from a stranger...

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , explicit sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , sex in an alley , some language , a little violence (not towards the reader)

A/N 1 - This is one of two submissions for @mercurial-chuckles Smutty September Fest. Thank you for doing this challenge, it's been fun playing around with the prompts.

A/N 2 - Prompts - Asked a friend to pick up to five prompts for me... of course I was given five so two stories it is 🙈 11) quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials 15) jealous sex in the alleyway behind the bar 19) getting turned on by their partner’s new uniform for work and then roleplaying a bit

A/N 3 - the “Angel Shot” is a reference to a scheme in the UK known as Ask For Angela. Please check it out and remember to be safe out there lovelies!

A/N 4 - This is my first post on Tumblr. Please let me know if I've missed a warning, knowing me it's more than likely. Hope you all enjoy ☺️

“Hey, what’s taking so long?”

You smothered a laugh at your boyfriend’s petulant whine. “Be patient, Lloyd!” When he grumbled you couldn’t help giggling. Patience was not a word to describe Lloyd Hansen… except when it came to you. Hired by the CIA as an independent agent, Lloyd was previously a loose cannon with physical tendencies and a short temper. His former handler had once said they preferred him effective instead of stable… which spoke volumes considering they knew how effective he could be. Since becoming involved with you, he had become less impulsive and aggressive. But something that never changed was the fact that Lloyd was fiercely protective… and very egotistical.

Shaking your head, you checked your appearance one last time before leaving the bathroom leaning on the doorframe of your adjoining bedroom to see Lloyd flopped on the bed. He was wearing a black shirt with white pants. His boots rested on the bedsheets, a habit of his that annoyed you. Clearing your throat, you stepped further into the room.

Lloyd heaved a great sigh before starting to sit up. “Seriously, I don’t get what’s so special about - “ his jaw dropped, blue eyes raking hungrily over the new work uniform you were required to wear. The black bodice pushed your breasts a little bit higher than normal, and the short skirt rode half way up your thighs so Lloyd knew you’d be flashing more than a smile if you bent too far forward. He wasn’t thrilled about the modifications to your uniform knowing others would be able to look at you. But the bar you worked at had regular patrons who knew to behave under promise of being barred. Plus the men on security were effective at stopping any unwanted advances. Not as effective as he was though…

Lloyd was so deep in his musings that he didn’t see you tilt your head, puzzled at the lack of reaction. “Lloyd?” When he focused on you again, you smiled shyly. “What do you think?”

Lazily, Lloyd slowly sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. He carelessly twirled his finger and you span carefully in an effort not to trip. “Well barkeep, what do you got for a man to quench his thirst around here?”

“What are you in the mood for?” You batted back coyly. 

A smirk graced his lips, eyes twinkling in mischief. You moved forward between his legs and he caught you by the hips. “Hmm… You look fucking delicious… maybe a shot of you?” 

You watched wide eyed as his hands ghosted under your skirt, one holding the material up and the other moving close to your clothed centre. “And how do you want that?” Gasping, you gripped his forearms for balance.

“Straight up”. Licking his lips, Lloyd slipped off the edge of the bed and onto his knees.

Groaning, your hands fisted in his dark hair and tugged gently. “Lloyd… you can’t… I gotta get to work”. Your own words sounded empty to you, you loved the feeling of his mouth on you. 

Wet heat suddenly washed over the thin lace of your underwear. Lloyd hummed in approval at your taste, the feeling causing you to grind against his mouth. His hands dragged the scrap of material down enough so he could easily access your core. Teasing, he blew gently and licked through your wet folds. A loud moan escaped your mouth at the feel of his moustache brushing over your clit. “Just a little taste, my sweet Moonshine”. Hearing your nickname you melted in his touch and surrendered yourself to the pleasure.

A few hours later and you were almost done with your shift. Though part of your brain was focused on making drinks, the majority was focused on what awaited you at home. Lloyd tried to convince you with two orgasms using his mouth and tongue to stay home with him so he could enjoy your new uniform in private. Honestly you’d had to bite your lip when he pouted. Lloyd could be stubborn and childish, and very used to getting his way. Instead, you’d offered to change into your ‘fuck-me’ heels once home and let them work their magic. Though he still grumped, he surrendered on the condition he’d drive you to work and pick you up. 

You noticed a few regulars remained, nursing their drinks and talking quietly. They were on their best behaviour with you after having been taught a lesson by Lloyd. Most of your regulars had either seen his possessiveness firsthand while an unfortunate few experienced it firsthand. When an unfamiliar customer sat in front of you at the bar, you smiled in greeting and placed a napkin on the counter. “Evening, what’ll it be?”

“A Bud, a shot of you and your phone number”. The man grinned smugly, obviously pleased with himself and his delivery. It took all of your restraint to not roll your eyes, you just grabbed a bottle and placed it on the bar before requesting payment. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Lloyd enter the bar. He winked at you and a big smile lit up your face, dimming slightly at a scoff from the new customer. He preened when your gaze returned to him. “Think you dropped something there gorgeous”. Glancing around in confusion, you cocked an eyebrow at him. “Your standards. Why don’t cha bend over and show me how low they go?”

God, did these lines actually work? Shaking your head, you signalled to another bartender that you were stepping away. You slipped out from behind the bar, only to find your personal space incredibly crowded by an entirely unwelcome presence. 

“If you want the best fuck of your life, come with me…” His dark gaze raked over your body, leaving your skin crawling.

“I already have plans for that”. Darting around him, you moved towards the staff room next to the rear exit and took a few moments to gather your thoughts. You didn’t have long left to work, but you’d definitely mention the pesky patron to security before leaving. As you inhaled to calm your racing heart, you failed to notice a set of footsteps that seemed to linger outside, followed by another set. Exhaling sharply, you stepped outside the staff room. Over the soft chatter of the patrons and the music from the overhead system, you could hear something else. You moved closer to the rear exit, ears straining. Cries of pain? Maybe another animal got caught in the vermin traps dotted around the property. 

You opened the door to the alley behind the bar and froze at the sight before you. Lloyd was standing with his back to you, the creepy customer pinned to the wall of the next building with one hand. Lloyd’s free hand held something silver. “Boring” Lloyd sighed, sounding almost disappointed. He slowly pressed the silver object into the man’s shoulder who cried out in pain. “One last time, Pumpkin. What were you doing near the staff room?” You gulped softly. Lloyd only use ‘cutesy’ nicknames on those that annoyed him. 

“Argh… looking f-for the…. Bathroom!” The last word was nearly squeaked in pain.

“Tsk. Even a blind man could see the neon sign for the can… which is near the entrance. That shit ain’t gonna fly”. Lloyd shook his head. “You were trying to score with the bartender”.

“That little slut inside? She was begging for it!” His words were cut off by his shout of pain. Silently, Lloyd pocketed his knife and now held the man’s family jewels in a vice grip. The menace made a noise that almost sounded like a high pitched squeak. Lloyd cocked his head before twisting his wrist. Cries of pain echoed in the night air, making your heart clench. Carefully you moved so you’d approach Lloyds side rather than his back. You were within an arms length and started to reach for his shoulder when a punishing grip caught your wrist. 

You looked up and Lloyds furious gaze captivated you, his blue eyes dark and burning with anger. A touch of apprehension sparked within you. The man before you with this look was not your crass and childish lover, this was the psychopathic weapon of destruction. You thought of Lloyds temper, having seen a few instances where he had lashed out at men who thought it ok to be bolder in their flirting or try to grab you as you served them. Lloyds self control then evaporated before an angry haze would envelope him, but he had never hurt you. 

“Lloyd? It’s me. Please look at me Lloyd”. There was no spark of recognition in his eyes, so deep in the depths of his haze he didn’t know who you were. Your mind raced, thinking of Lloyd’s reactions after dealing with other unwanted advances. “Hey… Hot Lips”. His brow furrowed slightly, just enough to indicate he heard you. “Come back to me. I need your kisses Hot Lips”. Any embarrassment you may have felt over your words vanished when his blue eyes began to soften, glacier becoming ocean. Whining, the goon slumped to the floor when released but you and Lloyd never stopped watching each other and still he held your wrist.

“What’s goin’ on out here?” Behind you came the voice of Tommy, head of security for the bar. There was a pause before footsteps slowly walked forward. “You ok sweet cheeks? Hansen oughta give the rest of us a chance to be the knights for a change, maybe get a kiss from a pretty gal”. Tommy was a shameless flirt with good intentions, only ever using his lines to make women laugh or feel good about themselves. He was also aware of the unwanted advances you’d received and Lloyd’s subsequent antics.

Swallowing, you stood still and kept your eyes on Lloyd. “Lloyd was just giving a lesson about understanding what the word ‘no’ means”.

“Seems the lesson sunk in. I’m sure I can give him a recap”. You felt Tommy stop a few feet away. “Maybe I can get you an Angel shot when you’re finished with your shift, sweet cheeks? I know I missed the chance before”. 

You knew Tommy was really asking if everything was under control with Lloyd by asking about the Angel shot while apologising that he had not been around the last time something had happened with another patron. Though you were more than grateful for Tommys offered assistance, Lloyd was no threat to you and him being arrested certainly wasn’t in your plans. “Not this time Tommy, I’m not in the mood tonight”.

“I appreciate your offer to help, Tommy”. Lloyds drawl had you sighing in relief. “But I’d never hurt my Moonshine. So why don’t you give Sunshine here the short version of what I said while we have a talk?” Lloyd’s grip never wavered as Tommy pulled the guy off the ground and led him away. 

“Why’d you stop me? He had it coming” Lloyd pouted.

“He wasn’t worth it - you getting in trouble or beating him to a pulp”.

“He was hassling you, Moonshine. And you’re worth any trouble”. Lloyd tugged on your wrist to bring you against him, the hand holding your wrist moving to your back while the other moved to brush your cheek. “I heard him say that shit about bending you over… and about giving you the best fuck of your life”. Lloyds drawl had changed to a quiet rasp… the same rasp he used when he wanted to fuck you senseless, show his possessive side. You knew that the violence displayed tonight was nothing compared to Lloyd’s prior tactics used during his CIA days but the severity had caught you off guard. But what surprised you more was the fact you were turned on. A part of you loved him coming to your defence, something chivalrous yet primal about it made you melt. Seeing his eyes burn with jealousy, hearing his commanding rasp… you were caught up in his haze.

 His hand slid down your back over the curve of your butt and squeezed. You gasped in surprise. “When he first said it, I wasn’t gonna let him see. I could’ve shot his dick off for saying that to you. But when I had him by the balls…” Lloyd chuckled darkly. “I wanted to show him who the best fuck of your life is. That nobody can do what I do”. Suddenly you found yourself pinned to the wall of the bar by six feet of pure male. “Lemme hear you say it”.

“You’re the best fuck of my life, Lloyd. Nobody can do what you can”. The brick was rough against your back but you ignored the feeling when consumed by Lloyd’s lips. You could taste the sweet candies he loved. It contrasted to the violence fuelling him. As he nipped at your neck, your hands reached into his hair and steered him back to your lips. He groaned and you sucked his tongue fiercely before biting his lip. 

Cursing, Lloyd pulled away and spun you to face the wall. “Put your hands on the wall and push away”. As you moved, you could hear the sound of his zipper opening and a sound of material moving before his body caged yours. One hand moved the soaked crotch of your underwear aside as the other guided his leaking tip to your entrance. With one swift thrust he filled you. His hand covered your mouth before you could cry out. “Much as I’d love to prove a point to that asshole, I don’t wanna have to teach a lesson to Tommy or any others tonight. Keep quiet for me now and you’ll be screaming later on”. He began to move at a rapid pace. From the feel of his pants against your ass, he’d only pushed them down far enough to free his cock. His impatience thrilled you, spurred you to meet his thrusts. He shifted his position slightly, his thick hard cock rubbing at that sweet spot deep inside you. “So hot and wet… nobody can fuck you like I can. Nobody knows you like me… and nobody ever will”. The snarl became a whimper as you clenched hard around him. 

“Fuck! Not gonna last much longer if you squeeze me like that, you’re gonna make me cum”. 

“Please Lloyd. Fuck me. Cum for me” you begged, voice muffled by his hand.

Lloyds thrusts quickened as he brought you back against him, your head against his shoulder. The band in your belly tightened, tingles beginning to race through your body. You whimpered as you felt his cock jerk, filling you with his hot seed. Lloyd bit your neck to quiet his own release. The last bite of pain triggered your orgasm. Your legs wobbled as the pleasure crashed over you but Lloyd held you tight, groaning as your core trembled around him. He moved his hand from your mouth to your chin and turned your face before kissing you and carefully pulling out.

Panting, you watched as he tucked himself back into his pants looking far too pleased with himself. Cocky little shit. You shook your head in bemusement. “Guess I didn’t need my fuck-me heels after all” you teased.

“You never need those fuck-me heels” he smirked. “But I’d like you to wear them as I give you the fuck of your life. All night. Every night”. He steps close to you, eyes soft with love. “For the rest of your life”.

[anika-ann]

Restless Hearts - S.R.

Type: one-shot, established relationship, next-to-zero plot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 6,2k

Summary: Moving in together with Steve is the dream come true – or it should have been. You didn't exactly have the chance to benefit from that since he shipped off to a mission for days and is only now coming back.

You grow restless. And to make it worse, you only get to reunite with him on this stupid pompous party instead of your home. Well. Just few more hours of socializing to survive.

You could handle that, right?

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, semi-public sex if you squint, unprotected sex, language, Steve being a menace, two idiots in love who can't keep their hands off of each other

A/N: written for the Smutty September Fest hosted by @mercurial-chuckles . Thank you for hosting 💕 I have chosen multiple prompts - finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to f* and quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials 🤭

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰

Sparkling lights. Sparkling drinks. Elegant gowns and sharp suits. Subtle polite laughter and conversation occasionally interrupted by a louder exclamation and a genuine burst of laughter from the groups forming around those who knew how to charm a crowd. A non-descript music, one song bleeding into another, a few couples trying to find space on the dancefloor that had mostly changed into an agora, a space for conversation rather than for moving in well-practiced sync.

The dress skirt brushing over your knees and ankles, a slight chill on the back of your neck as someone opened the balcony doors, letting in fresh April air of New York City. The light stink of alcohol and sweat amongst the hundreds of expensive perfumes and colognes. The rich aftertaste of the sting of bubbles, sweet and spicy on your tongue.

The golden lights shone bright but intimate, reflecting in your champagne glass and prompting you to finish your first – and likely one of the lasts – drink of the night.

You weren’t much of a drinker. You indulged every once in a while, more of curiosity about what fancy brand the host had chosen for the occasion and a thing of courtesy, using the glass like a required social prop.

Such was the case tonight too – a fancy evening for investors and associates of the Earth’s mightiest heroes. Politicians, diplomats, government officials, high-ranking military officials and filthy-rich entrepreneurs – mostly not your crowd, to speak plainly. There was a slightly better company too, even if scarce: former agents and other colleagues – well-vetted beforehand, of course – scientists, non-profit representatives, veterans. Several Avengers too, of course.

But your favourite – the one who had brought you deeper into the world of superheroes – was yet to be found.  

Steve Rogers most definitely was your favourite; nearly flawless moral compass, loyal, protective of the less fortunate ones and his own. A fighter who had won and lost all too much; an artist, who saw beauty around him nevertheless. A kind soul with an enormous heart, perhaps a tad too big for his own body despite his impressive physique. Larger than life and yet somehow humble enough in his insistence that he was just a man, ordinary, like most; just lucky enough to had been given a chance to fight and to defend.

And to love.

Steve Rogers certainly was your favourite, as he should be; the goodness of the world distilled into one man, with a face and a body of worth of being sculpted by the masters of ancient arts, the warmest smile and a sparkle to his eye a testimony to his brilliant mind and wicked humour. All that at your fingertips; all that supposedly yours, as incredible as it seemed at most times.

He was yours.

Your boyfriend of four months and seventeen days.

Not that you had been counting; perhaps just a little. You were innocent in the matter, however; it was mostly your and Steve’s friends, teasing you about taking things slow. According to Bucky, had you been taking things at Steve’s desired pace, with how smitten he apparently was, he would have already had a ring on your finger.

You didn’t dare to judge, afraid of raising your hopes a little too much; however, there was something to be said about Steve Rogers in love. He made it clear; so painfully and blissfully clear, letting you feel his much-reciprocated adoration in hundreds if not thousands of little moments.

In his touch. In his words. In his actions.

Your demanding jobs perhaps did slow down your progress a bit, making even the settling on a day of your first date quite the feat; but it was one of those good things that made the waiting worth it.

If Steve was smitten, so were you; and while a proposal would feel rather rash, you certainly not at all thinking about how you’d probably say yes anyway, because you simply knew, you’d settle for moving in together.

You had moved in together, thirteen days ago.

And the move in that had left you with half-unpacked boxes, cold bed and an apartment lacking the true aura of a home, because the person you wished to build it with was godknowswhere in a middle of Siberia, having left after a passionate welcome-to-our-new-home and a message delivered at three damn forty a.m.

Steve had left the pleasant warmth of your bed at four, with a profound sleepy apology and a lingering kiss to your forehead.

Left for an off-grid no-contact mission. Lasting for days.

For all the faith you had in his skill and strength, the worry that came with him being away for so long without as much of a short text was eating at you; and then there was the matter of simply missing him, the empty feeling only accentuated by having expected to be nearer to him at last and getting this instead. You were an independent woman and you could live your life without a man just fine, but goddamn were you also a woman madly in love, missing your boyfriend.

And you were growing impatient.

You were still at your first drink, yes, but knowing Steve should appear at any moment did not help calm your nerves, the slightly uncomfortable but exciting swirl of anticipation of seeing him again – in a suit no less – as intense as the yearning for comfort of actually seeing for yourself that he was safe and sound.

He had texted you, at last, about four hours ago, that he was on his way, nothing but a couple of bruises already healing, looking forward to seeing you.

You had agreed to meet at the venue; he would be running last minute, or perhaps even fashionably late, grabbing a quick shower and a shave at his at-hand quarters at the Tower, just throwing on a suit he kept there for such occasions. You had offered to help – for the completely selfish reason of seeing him sooner and in private instead of in front of hundreds of watchful curious eyes – but he had sweetly refused, argumenting that at least one of you should be on time and promising he would find you first thing upon his arrival.

You would have grumbled if you hadn’t been soothed by the Love you, can’t wait to hold you again, he had texted after. He was a charming loveable bastard like that.

As the infamous murmur of excitement arose around you, bringing you back to the present, your eyes easily found the source of the commotion: Steve Rogers himself.

Your heart rate accelerating reminded you that not being able to meet Steve before the event might have been a blessing. Had you had the chance to get your hands on him, you two would probably end up being very much unfashionably late; a welcome home kiss would have simply not sufficed.

He was breathtaking.

The traditional black suit with navy blue glint was fitted for certain; tight where it should be, accentuating Steve’s absurdly broad shoulders and thin waist, pants no doubt hugging all the right places from behind somehow complimenting his long muscular legs too, pristine white shirt with a bowtie matching the suit; the soft blue reflection emphasized the colour of his eyes as they scanned the room without ever stopping his progress, his polite smile spreading wide when his gaze found yours, the blue of his irises turning warmer; the most beautiful feature to his face battling the magnificence of his sharply cut jaw.

The instant relief washing over you screamed of how anxious you had actually been before you had seen him alive and well; the warmth spreading through your veins whispered of comfort, a tidal wave of feeling at home after a long travel; the heat curling in your belly and sending sparkles through every nerve ending reminded you that your body had been missing him in all different ways.

Your gaze zeroed on his every step. He seemed to move too slow and too fast at once; and suddenly he was standing in front of you, one hand gently grasping yours, the other lightly laying on your waist, a chaste kiss to your temple lingering as your body naturally sought his and carefully leaned into his entirely publicly appropriate greeting. The familiar woodsy notes of his cologne and aftershave had your heartbeat pick up and instinctively move closer into his embrace and breathing in deeply, the scent going straight to your head; but following his lead, you didn’t get too close, letting the gentle timbre of his voice soothe your need for connection instead.

At last; he was home. He was here, with you, and his love, while contained in socially acceptable gestures, seemed to draw a protective circle around your pair, shining brighter and warmer than the lights and all the luxuries around combined.

“Hey sweetheart. It’s so good to see you,” he whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek this time, his eyes lit alive as he retreated, a hint of a smile still playing in the corner of his lips. “And you are absolutely stunning. Almost tripped over my feet the moment I set my eyes on you.”

Resisting the urge to tenderly slap his side at the exaggeration, at making your face burn hot – and something inside you purr with satisfaction since you had chosen your outfit with care, much like your makeup and hairdo – you gathered your composure, straightening your posture and charming a smile for him in return.

In one of many late-night conversations, when he had revealed his artistic side to you, he had admitted he loved to feast his eyes on all kinds of art from the most ordinary ones to the rarest; you had understood then that while a fighter and just a man in his core, his soul was a thing seeking beauty and goodness everywhere. In both things and people. A doodle could make him smile and hum in delight as much as a painting or a sculpture, he had said shyly; a building, an arrangement of flowers, a beautiful dress too. The last one, however, he had appreciated most on a woman as bewitching as yourself, he had told you, a tender finger on your jaw, a glint of dark mischief in his eye, lips slanting over yours and stealing your breath in a matter of a second; proving he was appreciative of you just as much when you were wearing nothing at all.

This time, however, you liked to believe he enjoyed the sight of you in the dress indeed; the top was hugging your curves like a second skin, the dark crimson fabric bled into a breeze-light skirt, shorter at the front, longer at the back, offering a less-than-scandalous but still teasing peek of your legs and clear view of your matching heels.

“It’s really good to see you too, love. And you look quite handsome yourself… I nearly dropped my drink upon seeing you,” you reciprocated with a small smirk, pointedly finishing your drink at last, heat flaring in your core when you caught Steve’s gaze lingering on your lips as they barely touched the edge of the glass, not leaving an imprint despite the dangerously red colour of your lipstick.

As you set your glass on the nearest table, you took a satisfactory note of Steve’s gaze flickering even lower, and bit back a smile.

As high as the neckline of your dress was, actually reaching half-up your throat and barely but chastely covering your shoulders, the oval-shaped cut stretching from between your collarbones down over your sternum was a rather intentional trap.

And your Captain had fallen right into it, his Adam’s apple bobbing before his gaze snapped back to your face, pupils wider, irises having gained just a tad darker shade. The fresh surge of confidence was almost as intense as the swoop of desire in your lower belly, sending your thoughts spiralling far away from a behaviour socially acceptable at an event like this.

It made you want to abandon the event and let it sort itself even if Steve had just barely arrived.

Who cared anyway? Steve deserved a proper rest after a taxing mission; rest and more, whatever his heart desired. And maybe not only his heart; if you were honest with yourself, you were only a hot-blooded human being like the rest of the world and were looking forward to truly greeting Steve home in all the ways imaginable.

You could control yourself in the public, of course, and you genuinely understood the importance of networking. But you should bring up simply taking Steve home for his own good; and you could profit from it all the same. From his proximity, from the privacy of your home, from getting your hands on the insanely handsome man’s body.

Whether he sensed the sparkles in the air you weren’t sure; but he leaned towards your face, his voice dripping slow and rich like honey from his lips brushing your ear, sinful despite the words being perfectly innocent.

“It works well then, honey.” He offered you his elbow, straightening his posture as if he was so damn proud to show off what kind of a woman he had on his arm. “Let’s go fulfil our duty of mingling so we can excuse ourselves as soon as possible.”

With his last words carrying alluring notes of an intimate promise, you conceded.

Nodding, you arranged your face in a polite smile, crafted to nonchalant perfection.

“Let’s go mingle indeed.”

Indeed, let’s work so we can sneak away and go home as soon as possible.

Your plan had gone a little awry.

In the glow of delight at Steve’s arrival, you had underestimated the number of people who found it their crucial mission to meet and greet and catch up with Captain America.

You had kept up the pleasant façade through all the conversations, nodding and chuckling politely when the situation called for it; but you were growing weary and you could feel tension gradually building in Steve’s shoulders as well, the way you remained connected by at least an inch of a touch at all times permitting you to observe the change.

You had thought it would help when you subtly nodded towards the dance floor; his smile turned much more genuine as he asked you for a dance, earning your pair a breather and a moment of shared intimacy for a few songs.

But you had been wrong in your strategy; if it were possible, Steve’s jaw appeared locked even tighter than before once your reprieve was deemed to last too long and you agreed to return to socializing. His touch grew into a hold; at moments, it was but a grip, until you felt him forcefully relax and ease the pressure.

You didn’t blame him one bit.

He must have been exhausted; away from home for so long, physically and mentally drained after an intense, albeit successful mission, forced to put on a mask for everyone else’s benefit, because Steve Rogers, to a point, was a poster boy. As much as he was trying to change that, working on allowing himself to show and accept his humanity, he remained the embodiment of a hero who never gave up and raised others on his own shoulders despite scratching the bottom of the barrel of his own energy.

He remained cordial and polite and a gentleman; he offered to get you a drink as you excused yourself to the bathroom, returning only to find him – visibly annoyed, for once – trapped in a conversation with Tony. A conversation which was probably not at all important, but apparently couldn’t wait, at least in Tony’s mind.  

“Such a charming woman, standing here all by herself. How is that even possible?” questioned a voice from your left just as you pondered rescuing your boyfriend, causing you to waver.

It was a very male voice. An unfamiliar voice.

And had it been Clint or Sam or Bucky, you’d laugh at the poor line, which would no doubt be told with a drop of teasing; or in Thor’s case, entirely genuine and fitting to Asgardian but not Midgardian ways. Hearing it from a stranger, though, that made you want to roll your eyes.

You were a strong soldier of God so to speak, however; you turned to the source of the voice with a smile with just a slightly sharp edge – one the tall lanky man was oblivious to, as it turned out – and greeted him with a measured Sir.

As he introduced himself, you learned that Mr. Doctor Bowers PhD. might have had two PhDs but none of them was in taking a goddamn hint. Because now you were sort-of trapped much like Steve was, the written and unwritten rules of courtesy not permitting you to make up an excuse of needing to go to the bathroom after you had clearly just come back.

You counted seconds, pondering how soon you could leave the man behind without appearing too rude. You got to a hundred when your patience truly was wearing thin.

He was still not taking any of the hints you had dropped. Worse, even. You weren’t presumptuous enough – unlike some people in the mostly one-sided conversation – to imagine the flirting. He was clearly attempting to flirt and was failing miserably. He was shameless about it too, even if a little condescending.

Ninety-four seconds later, you had enough of him and far too little of Steve; your skin seemed to be already burning where Steve had last touched you, yearning for the contact to return in a perhaps clingy, but entirely honest way.

And suddenly, as if some miracle provided by Asgardian magic, the touch was back.

Steve’s arm was curling around your waist, his side pressing to your hip, his lips making a gentle – and strangely electric – contact with your hairline.

“I’m sorry about the hold-up, sweetheart. Who’s your… friend?”

It was a little funny, really. The man matched Steve in height, but at the biting note in Steve’s voice, he shrank at least a foot and a half.

He introduced himself after clearing his throat, maintaining the remnants of his composure which all of sudden carried no hint of the wannabe seducer. You wanted to kiss Steve right on the lips right there for that alone.

Mr. Doctor PhD also probably regretted extending his hand for Steve to shake; because at Steve’s grip, no doubt stronger than necessary despite his entirely nonchalant mask of politeness, he actually winced.

You were no supporter of violence, much like Steve, which might seem ironic to some given his profession – but the lick of heat at seeing Steve put the guy into back into his place sent a shudder of undiluted want down your spine and straight into your core, your posture involuntarily shifting in response. Steve’s hold on you tightened.

“I have to talk to my girlfriend now, if you excuse us. See you around,” Steve said, already spinning you towards the exit to drive his point to the end.

You didn’t resist.

If anything, you couldn’t walk fast enough, regretting wearing heels and wishing for a pair of sneakers instead to sneak away from the party altogether at last.

Only when Steve led you further and further away from people, deeper into the complex, your heart began thundering in your chest; you noticed that the tension in his muscles you had worried about had grew tenfold and realized that his announcement about needing to talk to you might be more than an excuse.

“Steve, are you alright?”

“Fine,” he responded flatly, yet in a voice carrying hundred times more warmth than just a moment ago.

Right. And the Sun is blue, the pigs can fly and tachyons had always been proven particles of matter.  

You swallowed the snarky response, glancing at him as you barely kept up with his long strides; still, you could tell he was holding back, having seen him march with much more hurry and relentlessness.

“Thanks for the rescue, by the way. Really,” you pipped up, one corner of your lips rising despite your stomach turning tight at the unreadable expression on Steve’s face. “Guy simply couldn’t take the hint that I only have eyes for my Captain.”

An uncomprehensible grumbly noise vibrated in Steve’s chest, his arm sliding from your waist in favour of taking your hand in his instead.

Apparently, your attempt at cheering him up failed; you should have known.

The corridor was now completely devoid of people; you had arrived to the part of the floor with three small conference rooms, one an each of them dark and empty – because everyone was at the party.

Your smile turned truly nervous at that point, your mind racing as much as your heart. Steve wouldn’t have led you here unless he wanted to urgently talk about something important. You were a little baffled as to why hadn’t he opted for the elevator and his former quarters instead; but you didn’t question it as he placed his palm on the scanner and practically threw one of the doors open and all but pulled you in, some of the lights automatically flickering to life.

That was all that your ordinary human brain had time to register.

Because then Steve’s hand found firm purchase of your neck, cupping your jaw, lips slanted over yours with ferocity and passion that had your mind snap blank and set your body on fire, your hands limply landing on his firm chest.

Oh. O-okay.

More than okay.

You were forced to walk backwards, Steve’s other hand pressing against your hip to lead your step and steady you at once; an anchor you desperately needed in the whirlwind of puzzlement and madly stirred desire. Your lips parted in invitation just before your ass hit the conference table, an unvoluntary whimper escaping you when Steve’s body aligned with yours, every single part of him bare his lips tight and wound up, his hardness brushing against your thigh.

At the small sound so willingly consumed by his demanding kiss, he squeezed your hip harder, tongue exploring hundred-times explored with delight, air stolen from your lungs, your hands scrambling to grab his suit jacket to pull him even closer.

Who needed breathing anyway?

You didn’t. And you didn’t care how you got here either, be it desire fuelled by impatience or jealousy or the endless time apart, your choice of a dress or your lipstick which you knew Steve liked so much. You didn’t give a damn.

He was the spoilsport, releasing your lips and pressing his forehead against yours, his quick breaths fanning your face, hand from your neck sliding lower, an almost inhuman sound pushing through his teeth when his fingertips found the exposed skin on your breastbone, petting the soft spot adoringly.

You had not known until that moment how much you craved his touch precisely at that spot and how weak in the knees it could make you.

“Please say y-“

“Yes,” you gasped, instantly rewarded by his mouth on yours again with a muttered but hearty-

“God, I missed you-“

-dextrous fingers sliding under your skirts and hiking the fabric up as they travelled up your thigh, Steve’s pelvis rocking against yours, creating delicious friction against your core.

“I missed you too.”

Your hands went to roam over his freshly shaven jaw, over his shoulders, pushing the jacket off just to make him growl in frustration when he had to stop touching you for two full seconds to get rid of it.

“Sorry, want to feel you,” you apologized nonsensically, every single moment of his touch going straight to your head like a strong sweet wine, intoxicating and addictive, much like his scent, his taste, consuming all of your senses.

“Need to have you-”

“You have me,” you said breathily, a plea and a promise at once, thoroughly appreciated by a squeeze to your ass, fingertips wandering towards where you needed him the most--

And then Steve halted in his progress, body turning into a statue as he came in contact with bare skin, lips stilling on yours.

You gulped, trying to judge his reaction despite your haze.

You had had… a little incident when dressing up to the nines. Your broken nail nicked your thigh-high, sending a run up your calf. Uncharacteristically unprepared, you had found out if was your only pair. And sure. You could have run to a store. You could have express-ordered; stores would trip over their feet to deliver to Ms. Captain America in need. You could have worn a pantyhose.

And yet, your mind had steered you towards the drawer where you had kept tights specifically bought for a wholly different occasion than a social outing.

Why not? Your dress was long enough. And having hoped Steve’s mission would bring him home victorious and excited, having missed all of him terribly, you thought you might at least save some time once you two would be home.

Except you weren’t at home now. But that wasn’t on you – you were completely innocent in that matter.

Except you weren’t and your tights were conveniently sewn with a large enough opening to have Steve fit his hand or other parts of his body through, leaving but a flimsy lace panties in his way.

“Sweetheart?” he rasped, licking his lips as if to tempt you further, to confess your sins born of love and lust. He pulled back just an inch, to meet your gaze, his own pupils blown so wide only a thin ring of your beloved blue remained.

You gulped; not ashamed, not truly, perhaps a little apprehensive of his judgement. You had worn what was pretty much an erotic prop to a high-class event and had you not been careful and had had an accident, anyone seeing or god forbid snapping a picture…

“I… wanted to greet you home… and feel you as soon as possible,” you admitted silently, heart thundering in your chest, in your ears, in your temples, in your fingertips fisting the collar of Steve’s shirt.

A beat of silence.

Several wild beats of your heart.

“Christ, I love you-“

You were hoisted up on the edge of the table in a lightning speed and a mouth-watering display of strength, lips devoured by Steve’s with enough force to bend you backwards, the line of your soaked panties pushed aside to not waste time indeed as Steve’s fingertips dipped into your slick with a mutual groan of pleasure.

“Steve-“

“That’s right, honey,” he whispered, lips teasing the soft skin of your throat now, “I’m here now, all yours.”

He teased your lower lips back and forth, once, twice, three times too many and then he finally entered you with two fingers, a dark chuckle coming deep from his throat at the gasp of his name, stepping closer between your spread thighs to press your legs further apart.

He pumped his fingers with ease, driving you towards the stars at a dizzying speed, pressing a soothing kiss to your sternum when you cried out at him curling his fingers just right.

“That’s it, honey… sing for me. Just for me,” he pleaded, contradicting his plea by claiming your lips again and pushing deeper, faster, wicked,your whimpers swallowed greedily, all his, just like you were, on the brink of ecstasy.

You were trembling; in pleasure, in anticipation of absolute bliss, with Steve’s hand firmly pressed to your lower back to hold you close and annihilate you in the most exquisite way known to man. His words, his touch, the husky notes of his voice, the sheer need radiating off him and still making sure you were to steal the first round of fireworks just for yourself.

It exploded through your body without warning.

You broke with a cry of his name, lips freed just so he could hear the delicious sound, so beautifully seconded by his harsh breaths and so filthily accompanied by the wet sound of your pleasure you had no capacity to be ashamed of but revelled in instead.

You knew he did too. Because he had done that to you, for you. It was his and yours and both was a privilege; and lust incarnate, as he brought you down from your high gently as it be, his hand disappearing from your back in favour of undoing his fly and zipper.

Feel as soon as possible; no time to waste. Pants shoved down only as little as necessary, boxers following, a peek of a mouthwatering – and always a little intimidating – sight was all you got.

A small startled sound escaped you when you were being pulled further towards the edge of the table without a moment of reprieve, a chuckle bubbling in your throat at Steve’s impatience – but with no malice. God knew you understood; the moment the head nudged your entrance, coating him in your slick, your orgasmic bliss was long gone, replaced by even more acute need.

You wanted him. Now. All of him. Wanted to feel him deep inside you, wanted him to fill you so completely as only he ever could, devoured by him, desired and loved.

And you wanted to make him feel as delirious with pleasure as he had made you a moment ago, wanted to make his world so hot it turned white for a moment, make his knees buckle with the force of his release.

Your gaze met his, eyes feasting at the beautiful panting mess he already was, all pristine in his suit and bowtie and ready to ruin and be ruined, lips crimson and kiss-swollen and parting with a groan as he slowly pushed into you.

“Look at me, Steve. Want you to see what you do to me,” you whispered, the little broken sound pushing past his lips the only warning you got before he snapped his hips forward with a curse on his lips and sheeted himself fully inside you at once. God, so fully and suddenly that all air got knocked from your lungs.

His hand grasped your jaw, tender but firm, a dangerous glint in his eye, thumb running over your painted lower lip.

“Oh I’m looking, honey.” His gaze flickered down as he retreated almost all the way out, shining with your arousal, and thrusted deeply again, causing your eyes to flutter shut. “And there’s nothing prettier than you falling apart for me, so let. Me. See you.”

He accentuated every word with a sharp snap of his hips, stroking and stretching your walls over and over, setting a rhythm, teasingly slow and punishingly quick, hand and lips roaming, grabbing and caressing, kisses all teeth and all soft, grip on your hips keeping you still to assure he could take you exactly as he liked and encouraging you to roll your hips at your pace as you balanced on the edge of the table all the same.

“Missed you.”

“Love you.

“Need you.”

“So good for me.”

“I’m so damn lucky.”

“Please.”

“Look at me.”

“Give it me, honey.”

Your head was spinning as you were consumed by bliss, spiralling towards your peak so fast you couldn’t tell anymore which words were yours and which were his, where you ended and he began, clinging to each other as you were carried higher and higher, your ears ringing and still allowing you to hear the clinks of the belt buckle and the sinful sound of your rapid love-making; like a lightning running through yours very being, you shattered with a high-pitched whimper of Steve’s name, an echo of a hoarse voice stringing curses and praise barely reaching your conscience.

You panted against Steve’s shoulder as he curled around you, minuscule movements of hips to ride out both of your highs, soft words spilling from his lips as he was barely caching breath himself.

You took a minute, maybe two or five, still, clinging to him all the same, the heady scent of sex and sweat weighing down the air, your tongue heavy and throat parched, fingers carding through Steve’s damp hair softly.

And still, you chuckled breathlessly as Steve kept running his warm hand up and down your back, the sound causing him to press a kiss to your lips that tasted of apology for some reason.

“Well…”

“I’m sorry for pouncing on you, sweetheart,” he muttered, a genuine note of regret nearly lost in the pleasure carried over to his voice.

Your smiled must have looked exhausted, you thought; but blissed out.

Oh, your sweetheart of a boyfriend. As if you hadn’t just both enjoyed this tremendously. Surely, he didn’t really mean it, did he?

“I’m sorry for sort-of setting a trap then…” you followed suit, the words feeling simply wrong on your tongue. “Except I’m not.”

At that, Steve lifted his head, meeting your gaze, his eyes sparkling with mischief and desire still.

“Me neither.”

You grinned, trying not to be acutely aware of his hardness still stretching you to your fullest.

Of course he wasn’t entirely satisfied. One round had barely even been enough.

“That’s what I thought. Good.”

He mirrored your expression, his grin a little boyish and devilish at once, his expression soft but somehow everything but innocent.

Yet, he caressed your face with his fingertips with tenderness, from your damp temple over your cheekbone to your jaw, gently pressing against your lips.

“I love you. And I missed you. So much. I swear I just wanted to go home – take you home, the moment I walked in,” he admitted, causing your smile to turn sympathetic.

You knew all about that; it was all you had been truly thinking about the whole evening.

“I know the feeling.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh…” you trailed off, sensations slowly returning to your body outside the all-consuming pleasure. You felt like you were burning; sweaty and fucked-out for the lack of a better term, most of your body tingling… You chuckled self-deprecatingly. “God, my legs shake so much… what did you do to me?”

Steve’s hands moved to your thighs as if he needed to feel it and steady the trembling, to help, teeth worrying over his lip, just a hint of guilt – and a whole lot more of something you didn’t dare to decode, because those were some dangerous waters.

You expected him to pull out and help you stand then, clean up; after all, he was a gentleman like that, always supporting you.

He did the former, tenderly so as not to hurt you; but not the latter. When he carefully left your body and you tried to stand, he halted your movements with tightening his hold on your thighs, his gaze roaming all over you as you glanced at him all with puzzlement.

“Steve?”

“Maybe you should lie down,” he suggested lowly, his gaze flickering from your still quaking legs to the opening of your dress on your chest and to your lips and then back.

You swallowed against your dry throat.

The dangerous waters you hadn’t dared to explore roared in the back of your head, a shudder of scalding heat running through your body.

He hadn’t cleaned up. He hadn’t tucked himself in. He was still… as always---he-

You licked your lips, your heart stumbling so hard in your chest it was almost painful.

Wordlessly but with his blown pupils observing you like a hawk, one of his hands moved to your shoulder, gently pushing, encouraging you to lie down on the desk indeed.

And who were you to protest? His gaze was once again pleading and challenging you.

Please, say yes.

Like a fallen angel coaxing you to sin; and you’d all but follow hm straight to hell, because you knew he’d show you heaven unparalleled.

The table was cold and unforgivingly hard against your back, but you didn’t care; all you cared about was Steve looking at you like that, like you were a goddess and a prize he had sworn to win, guiding your leg up to rest your ankle against his shoulder, his hot mouth pressing a kiss to your calf. His other hand pushed his pants and boxes down his legs this time, before he reached for your other leg and wrapped it around his waist, once again nudging your sensitive opening.

“Just one more, honey,” he coaxed you, as if you needed convincing, as if the tremble of your body hadn’t turned from blissful and exhausted to one of anticipation. “Just one more and then we’ll go home…”

He pressed another kiss to your calf and met your gaze as he slowly sank back in with ease, something devilish and painfully alluring flashing in his eyes as a shudder ran through your body, sensitive from your earlier activities.

“And when we’re there, I’ll take you once more… once for every day I would have made love to you, had I been in our home with you as I should have.”

In the haze of your mind, the math didn’t seem to math or even matter, even though you felt it should.

But for now, all you could focus on was Steve, finally with you, and soon coming to your shared home with you, at last.

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

The event's masterlist

*chuckles* I’m in danger🥹

I hope Steve makes sure she’s hydrated and eats something in between🤭 And maybe gets some sleep; not all of us are supersoldiers 🥹

ANYWAY. Thank you for reading! Drop feedback if you're willing and may September bring you many smutty cozy evenings and peace 💕