kinkylittlebastardsuniverse

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Three Hundred

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: Bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. He's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. Not him. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need you. Does he?

Warnings: 18+. Fluff and smut.

Words: 5,8OO

Your head is feeling heavy. Heavier than normal. The mellow music in the background, the rumble of the voices of your trusted friends around you and the warmth radiating from Bucky pressed against your side, all make you feel like you might go cross-eyed if you continue to pry your eyes open when they so desperately want to close.

It has been a busy week of non-stop assignments. You got up early every morning to prepare and brief each other towards the operation, then tiring yourself out during the complicated missions that required most people on the team to get involved, and if you were lucky, you’d be home just in time to collapse into your puffy bed, unable to crawl under the sheets or change your clothes. It was incredibly fun to let out your energy and be together with the entire team again, but the week is catching up to you and Natasha’s idea of having a ‘boozy night in’ backfired greatly.

Your muscles are tight with tension and your cheeks are glowing with fatigue. But you have buried yourself in the corner of the couch, Bucky’s frame blocking you from the rest, so you can comfortably swim in the atmosphere of peace and relaxation around you. As fun as the back-to-back missions had been, there were a few close calls and you never really process the relief that comes from getting out alive until all of you are sat together, talking, laughing and most importantly… unharmed.

“I’m not carrying you to bed,” Bucky grumbles under his breath, taking another swig of his beer as he keeps his eyes on Thor who is telling some strange story about a man made of stone and a creature made of blubber. You kind of clocked out after the words ‘sex club on this purple-blue planet’, which was shame because you wanted to know what it was, but you couldn’t possibly comprehend those stories at this hour.

“Yeah, I know. Just… Just wake me up,” you murmur, your voice soft and breathy as you tilt your head to rest on his shoulder, the soft jitters of his arm making you hum in delight. The bulging pressure of Bucky’s frame against your side has you struggling not to bury yourself into him as far as you possibly can.

Your best friend sighs softly, biting back a smile when you nominate him to cuddle up against. He might not be someone who likes to touch and be touched, but you always found your sneaky little ways to make him tolerate it. He couldn’t possibly pry his sleepy friend off him to fend for herself when she can barely form a coherent sentence, could he?

“Alright. I’m waking you up. Go to bed,” he orders, his voice strict, and you sit up before he can shake you off. Swallowing hard, you pry your eyes open with all your might, making Bucky turn his head to you with eyebrows raised in amusement at your devastating state.

He had already noticed earlier how your heartbeat had slowed to a heavy thump, your breathing evening out and the goosebumps appearing on your skin as the heat seeped from your body with the last remnants of your energy. He may or may not have let it happen instead of offering you the blanket on his other side so that you would nudge into his side a little. Bucky, too, found comfort in making sure his friends were around and well after a week as intense as the one they just had.

Especially you. You always have your shit together and manage just fine – in your own way that sometimes had Bucky baffled, but it seemed to work for you. Yet somehow he wanted you to relax around him. It wasn’t something he realised until it had sort of already happened, but he wanted to be the person that would allow you to let your guard down. And he is. If Bucky even captures the slightest sign of you faltering or stumbling, he’ll make sure he is just within reach in case you need him to fall into. Literally and figuratively. Like your safe haven.

And sometimes a look was enough. He didn’t even have to smile at you – thank God he didn’t – but sometimes you would frantically look around and your eyes would fall on Bucky (after he swiftly inserted himself into your sight) and your shoulders would sag. You’d give him a tight smile and return to your task with your mind at ease. He sometimes chuckled at just how easy it was to make you relax.

But never would Bucky admit that he needs to see that look of ease on your face or he will crumble and fall into a pit of disfunction. He doesn’t want to think about what would happen if something ever were to happen to you. He doesn’t need anyone. He never did. He’s just making sure you’re okay, because you need it.

“Yeah…” you mutter and push to a stand, blinking rapidly to fight the sleep in your body as you ready yourself to make way to your bed.

“I knew you’d be the first to fold!” Thor bellows with a laugh, his story interrupted and everyone turning to you, and you wave him a dismissive hand as you drag your feet over the carpet.

“We can’t all be tireless Gods,” you retort with a little less fire in your voice than you intended, making everyone breathe different octaves of soft laughs.

But you stumble over your feet, or maybe someone else’s, and fall into Steve’s lap with a gasp. He quickly steadies you with broad hands on your waist and Bucky is on his feet instantly. His hands wrap around your shoulders as he steers you away from the group.

“That’s enough outta you. Come on, sweetheart.” Bucky chuckles and you sway lightly as he walks you to your room. Falling face first into your bed, Bucky grimaces at you with a disapproving shake of his head, peeling your shoes off.

“You have got to start making your bed,” he scolds you as you crawl up to the pillows and he throws the duvet over you.

“Just because you’re a neurotic Super Soldier with endless amounts of energy to make your goddamn bed, doesn’t mean you get to judge my life style.” Your grumble is close to incoherent and open your arms wide, “Now shut up and come cuddle.”

“Absolutely not.” He huffs, but you catch onto the sleeve of his blue Henley, pulling him towards the bed. He stumbles and topples over you, giving you a death glare as he raises his face, but you quickly capture him under the blanket and crawl into his side.

You purse your lips to stop the devious smile tugging at them, knowing that a powerful and trained Super Soldier wouldn’t let himself be pulled into a bed by a flimsy piece of fabric, unless he wanted to. So you bury your face into his shoulder and squeeze him as his scents engulfs you, warmth glowing against you like a furnace.

“Such a baby,” you mumble and wait for his stiffness to dissipate, humming softly when he gives in by wrapping his metal arm around your back and stroking his flesh fingers through your hair.

“I hate you,” he grumbles and sinks down, both of you laying in a heap of limbs into the softness of your bed as you finally let the endless depths of your subconscious submerge you.

As long as you’re okay.

…

“You okay, Buck?” you ask with a gentle frown when see him slump from his bathroom with a towel around his neck. He’s wearing simple leisure wear, nothing more than some sweats and a white t shirt and it makes your insides warm with how huggable he looks. Though it seems that if anyone needs the hug, it’s him.

“Yeah. Just a rough few nights.”

“Hmm…” you hum softly and turn on the sofa to face him. “Wanna watch movies tonight instead of trying to fall asleep?”

“All night?”

“Sure. Yeah, why not?”

“You can’t stay up all night…” he drawls, reining in the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You cheer silently at the sight and the first hint of his happiness.

“Sure I can! Oh, come on… I have to defend my honour now. I can easily pull an all-nighter.” You try to sound convincing, but Bucky raises his brows in an unimpressed glare.

“Liar.”

“So, you’re in?” you ask hopefully and you can see the soldier faltering.

“Can’t be worse than staring at my ceiling,” he admits with a shrug and flings the towel to the side before slumping into the sofa next to you. This side of the compound was usually empty around this time, most of the crew having retreated to bed or having settled to hang out in one of the larger common rooms. But Bucky and you enjoyed basking in each others’ silence sometimes, a little further away from the group. Not that you are the silent type. But Bucky doesn’t mind.

“What kind of movies do you like?” you ask him, already flicking through the multiple apps on the TV that could stream your next movie.

“I don’t know,” and he doesn’t really care. He isn’t here to watch a movie, he is here to drag you to bed when you inevitably fall asleep. He’d pretty much watch anything. It’s not that you fall asleep all the time and he is like the babysitter to send you to bed, but he rarely slept the way you could, so he always ended up the last to be awake. Little does Bucky know, you rarely sleep the way you do when Bucky is around.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’? Aren’t you supposed to have a list of movies to watch to fit into this century?” you frown up at him, referring to his little culture list in Steve’s old notebook.

“Steve’s book? Yeah, no. That would be a list of my victims,” he tells you dryly and you punch his arm, making him chuckle. You truly are the only one he can joke to about that. He would choke the life out of most people for referring to something so personal, but the traumas that constantly seem to roil and simmer inside of him, quiet down to a quiet lake of emotion whenever you touch upon it. His bones and muscles slacken when you merge gently with his old pains.

“Alright, funny man. What’s it going to be? Action or Disney?”

“Disney? Really?” His brows relax when he looks at you, a stoic look on his face to dare you to get him to watch a Disney movie.

“You know the fairy tale of Rapunzel?” You grin like a fucking child at him and he narrows his stare to stop the alternative from creeping up on his features.

“Yes…” He retreats his face warily as he waits for you to elaborate on your bold choice.

“Oh, you’re going to love Tangled!”

“Isn’t that a kids movie?” He frowns.

“It’s a fucking masterpiece.”

…

“You’re drooling over a cartoon,” he mumbles, eyes still on the screen.

“Flynn is the love of my life. Now shut up,” you spit at him, fumbling a full claw op popcorn from his lap as you watch intently. Bucky’s breath hitches at the faint rumble above his crotch and he scrunches his eyes shut for a moment, deciding to redirect his energy from between his legs to teasing you further.

“You buy into that whole grumpy guy, sunshine girl -bullshit?” he grumbles, judgement clear in his voice as his stare remains on the bright screen.

You turn to him with you mouth hanging open and a stupid heat creeping up your cheeks. How does he know about that? Something that specific…

“How do you…?” you stammer and he gives you an unimpressed glare.

“Read some of your books and saw some shit on the internet.”

“What side on the internet are you on?” you question him further, attention no longer on the animated motion picture. You’ll get back to the book thing, not yet ready to confront him about that. There are more important matters at hand.

“What do you mean?” he feigns a frown with a playful smirk and you narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. This stubborn, innocent and old man would not indulge into modern culture. Surely, not…

“N-never mind…” you mutter after a brief silence. You decide not to even try and explain the different sides of the internet to your friend.

“I’m the sunshine in this relationship, you know,” Bucky mutters after a long silence and you snort a laugh, making him chuckle as soon as he hears your delight.

“Obviously.”

…

Curled up on the sofa, you pull your knees up to your chest, nose buried so far into your book, you can’t see anything but the black words on the worn pages. You should know better than to read this …filth in public, but the chapter snuck up on you and you can’t. stop. reading.

He dropped to his knees, eyes drawn up to watch her as his palms slid up the back of her calves. Slowly, so slowly, his hands glided further and further up until they slipped under the hem of her dress. Fuck – you’ve waited over three-hundred pages for this. His mouth came closer and the pounding between her legs increased with every inch he stole from between them. She remembered his lips. The feel of them on her own. Oh, to feel them somewhere else… doing that thing with his tongue. Her knees nearly buckled, if it weren’t for his stare pinning her down.

“Hey.”

You nearly fling the book to the other side of the smaller common room at the sound of Bucky’s voice and clench your thighs to will the pounding between your own legs to settle down already. But your wide eyes have already been caught by Bucky and his brows are raised with amusement, the crinkles in his face not helping your little situation.

“What are you reading? Didn’t hear me come in?” he asks, slowly walking over and crossing his arms over his chest. He looks like he already knows, his dominant glower at your hunched frame in the corner of the couch challenging you. Lie to me, I dare you, his eyes seem to say as they glitter with mischief.

“No. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” you easily deflect his first question. “You and your trained sneaking methods.”

Closing the book and hiding it in your lap, you swallow hard as if resetting your feelings, the whining disappointment of being interrupted in the middle of that scene.

“What are you reading?” he tries again and you remain your empty gaze on him, thinking so hard of any answer to give him.

“A book.”

“Duh. What kind of book?”

“…Romance.”

“Romance?”

“Yes.”

He stays silent for a moment, his gaze rolling over your features. It isn’t often he allows himself the pleasure of someone else’s discomfort, but it is just too fun with you. And he isn’t stupid. He had to wait in your room once while you were still taking a shower, because you are always so slow when you shower, and he couldn’t help but snoop a little at the time. There was a time he used to enjoy reading a lot, it helped him get more familiar with all the languages he was trained in. Though he had never considered the light and bright storylines that were scattered through your bookcases. Bored, he had leafed through one of them and halted abruptly when his trained eye caught some disturbingly distinct words that he had only seem in a porn site search bar.

So he knows the kind of books you read and has to rein in his wonder at the balls you had for reading that in public, rein in his chuckle because of course you would get a kick out of reading that shit in public. Bucky never thought you were the innocent type, he knows better than that. The dirty nonsense that would leave your mouth after a drink, or when you’re too tired to think of the consequences, told him plenty.

He liked it. Bucky didn’t really allow himself to indulge in fantasies like you could and hadn’t been able to admit to his preferences when you asked him about it those few times. He had done some sexual stuff after returning from Wakanda, but it had always been a bit hasty and vanilla, too uncomfortable for his liking. He silently curses himself, because of course he is uncomfortable. It’s a trait he might never shed, but the things he would do if he could just let loose for once. That thought alone could send his cock skyward.

“You’re reading porn again, aren’t you?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you let out a nervous laugh, opening your mouth to say something, but deciding against lying in the end.

“Way to expose me, Barnes.” You roll your eyes and he grins widely at you.

“It’s the way you are pressing your legs together that is exposing you, sweetheart,” he taunts, his voice having dropped an octave, and you stiffen at his words. Bucky has never acknowledged anything sexual, even when you so openly talk about it all the time, and it surprises you how natural it sounds rolling off his tongue.

“I wasn’t doing that,” you murmur, a tad shy all of a sudden.

Bucky tilts his head at you. “You telling me you’re not thoroughly turned on right now?”

“Bucky!”

“Oh, come on! Indulge me,” he nudges your knee with his metal hand and it shoots electricity up the limb to flutter in your belly. “Read it to me.”

“What?”

“Show me what the hype of written porn is about.” He shrugs and leans sideways against the back of the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t imagine it is better than watching it on video.”

He’s lying. Bucky likes porn as much as most men, but it is a quick fix. He can definitely see the appeal in dragging out the build up and reading from someone’s point of view. But admitting that wouldn’t get you all squirmy and uncomfortable and he finds he quite likes to tease you about this stuff. You always tease him, why not return the favour?

“Absolutely not,” you breathe.

“Pussy.”

“Bucky, I am not reading porn to you, are you insane?!”

But Bucky has already noticed your determined answer and he is too impatient to play this out a bit longer, so he quickly snatches the book from your hold and dives off the sofa, almost roaring a laugh at the impossibly slow response time you have to his actions.

Opening the book to the last page you ended on, he increases the distance between you as his eyes search the words. “She remembered his lips. The feel of them on her own. Oh, to feel them somewhere else… doing that thing with his tongue. Her knees nearly buckled, if it weren’t for his stare pinning her down,” he starts, his voice husky as he reads. “His eyes darkened as they finally landed on her throbbing, warm, aching –”

“Bucky!”

“ –cunt,” he smirks and tries to focus on the words in front of him, even though he suddenly realises who he is picturing as the girl in the book, his brain having latched onto the first person in his thoughts. “She felt as if she might pass out when she felt the fiery trail that the tip of his tongue traced up her bare thigh. So slow, so painfully slow. She couldn’t help the pulsating wave contracting her weeping pussy, another when he dragged his index finger through her folds.” Fuck, this fucking book. “His cock twitched at the feeling of her and the simple sound of the hitch in her breath. He couldn’t help but dip his finger in slightly. Just to test the waters, feel her around his digit. Scorching hot and fluttering with need…” Bucky drifts off.

“Bucky, please stop?” You ask him and his eyes, dark and heavy, snap to your frame on the couch. Your voice has dropped significantly and Bucky can’t help but notice the strangeness in your tone, pleading him to stop reading. Not because you’re embarrassed, no, but because it was turning you on.

And Bucky can’t help but let his nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, the air around him thick with your arousal. He can’t possibly make the distinction of whether you are turned on by the book, or by him, but he finds himself slowly caring less. Something tugs at him again. In his chest, his belly, his cock.

You’re uncomfortable. Horny and uncomfortable, aching and needy. He can read it on your face. And Bucky’s protective instinct can’t help but instantly want to make sure you’re feeling better. As opposed to the normal situations, a back rub, a nap, or a glass of water won’t help you this time.

And there you are. This wonderful, comfortable, beautiful person. Always teasing him, making his life better by making it worse. And something he hasn’t realised until now, a person who is completely and utterly… sexy. That sparkle in your eyes, those fleshy thighs, your lips, your hair, your everything. And your mind, especially. How it takes his body nothing to instantly respond to you, like an answer to your call.

Right now, you are calling again. Calling for pleasure and relief. Bucky’s legs stiffen to stop him from marching over and answering that call like he answers all the others.

“I’ll stop,” he replies stoically, shutting the book gently and walking over to you. He reaches out the book for you to take, but when your hands, albeit hesitantly, wrap around the cover, Bucky doesn’t let go and tugs both your hands to him slightly. “Is that what you want?”

His eyes are piercing into yours and you nod frantically, “Yes, I can’t take you reading any longer.”

He clarifies, “I mean the book. The scene – is that what you want?”

Your brows pull together and you search his face, disappointed to be unable to read it. “To have someone eat me out? Yeah… I can’t say I would mind it.”

Those words, followed by your breathy chuckle has Bucky’s fingers curl until his nails dig into the cover of the book. You talked about sex with him sometimes, but to hear you name such a filthy and delicious act so plainly? He doesn’t know how much more he can take. Is that what you felt when you heard him read? Because he will read you a bedtime story every night if this is how it makes you feel.

Bucky reluctantly lets go of the book and takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, running his hand through his hair as he takes a deep breath.

“Then why not go and get it?” he asks, staring ahead even if he feels your eyes burn into his side.

“No one will live up to the expectations of a book, Bucky,” you sigh and Bucky hates his name on your lips like that. Filled with disappointment. Absolutely hates it.

“Sure they do,” he shrugs and finally decides to face you, “all you need is that build-up.”

You swallow hard and your chest freezes with an inhale. “A build-up?”

“Yes,” he hums. “Those three-hundred pages of tension, a little teasing, some dirty talk…”

You roll your eyes with a low laugh. “Right. How realistic of you, Bucky.”

He likes that tone a lot more. His name from your mouth like that. Like he might be one of your favourite people. “Easy to get, sweetheart. We have a whole lot more than three-hundred pages under our belt.”

The nickname and the simple insinuation of his words make you curl up tighter in the cushions. You do. You have plenty of build-up. Plenty of teasing and tension, as far as you are concerned. But you never considered your friend to have experienced the same thing. You felt like a burden to him, always seeking him out and him grumbling as he helped you. But you could endlessly wonder. Or you could ask. Who is he to be putting you on the spot?

“What are you suggesting, Bucky?” you ask, even daring to sit up and lean in closer slightly. You should have expected him to not recoil too easily though. He wouldn’t even show you a weakness, despite your close relationship. No, he would lean into whatever you would give him.

“I think you know what it is I’m suggesting.”

You leap. Fuck it. “Say it.”

“You really want me to say it out loud?”

“Would I be reading books if I didn’t?”

He laughs at that, his lids lowering when his gaze narrows back in on you. His hand, draped over the back of the couch, is so close to your shoulder. He licks his lips.

“Say it,” you repeat.

“I’m suggesting,” he drawls, his voice having deepened, “that you spread your legs for me.”

You can’t believe it. Can’t believe he just said that. And how it sounded so natural, something you never expected. But you swallow the primitive response to his words that has your whole body reeling. You will play his part. You will find out just how far Bucky is willing to take his bluff. Sure, you had well over three-hundred pages of foreplay, but also well over three-hundred pages of trust to shatter with one stupid decision. However, you cannot currently find one good reason – not a single one – not to risk it all for him.

So you spread your legs for him.

His eyes widen slightly, an outside power pulling his sight down to the very core that you’ve exposed to him. He didn’t think it was possible, but his mouth waters, the absence of your taste on his lips grating his nerves. He drags his eyes back to yours, only to see you surveying him closely.

“Everyone is out. If I do this…” his voice is low and descends into a rasp.

“No going back,” you finish for him.

“I don’t want to go back.” There is no mistaking his words, his tone clear.

“Me neither.”

“Tell me,” he orders, his warm palms wrapping around your ankles, his thumbs stroking the skin of your shins. Even the metal is warm. Your breathing deepens and becomes heavier.

“I don’t want to go back,” you say. “I want this.”

“What? What do you want?” he asks, surely testing how far you’ll be willing to go with your confessions. You stay quiet, your eyes peering down into his as his hands slowly stroke up your spread legs, his fingertips grazing underneath the fabric of your shorts. “You want my tongue between your legs?”

Your pussy convulses at his words and you swallow hard. Fucking hell.

“Bucky.” It’s a whisper.

“I bet that book warmed you up for me, didn’t it?” he croons and you nod stiffly. “I wonder if it’s enough. I wonder if I need to spread you open a bit further.” His thumbs dig into inside of your upper thighs, spreading you open more. You pulse in answer, your chest rising and falling deeply.

“Why don’t you try and find out?”

Bucky snickers softly, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. “And there I was, thinking you’d be innocent.”

“You never thought I was innocent,” you breathe, the circling of his thumbs against your skin distracting you. More slick gathers between your legs and you wonder if Bucky can spot it through your shorts.

“Let’s just say I never thought I’d get to see this side of you,” he answers and licks his lips with his eyes burning into your warm skin. His fingers start peeling at the fabric and you wiggle your hips impatiently, ready to raise them and serve him.

“You severely underestimate yourself.” Your voice is quieter, more serious. You hope he can decode your vague confession. How much he means to you, how there is no one more worthy to speak to you like Bucky does, no one you could want more.

He stays quiet at that, however, his eyes raising to yours. His stare remains impassive, his eyes darting between yours as if trying to find something. But you stare back just as hard, unflinching, unfaltering. Something flashes across his face, a determination of some sorts, and he gives a quick nudge upward with his chin. An order. Raise your hips.

Serve me.

Your breath halts in your throat while you do as you’re told, lifting your hips as Bucky slowly peels your shorts off, your panties right along with them. Heart pounding at the relentless vulnerability of being naked before him, you stiffen. He twists you by his grip on your thighs, leaning you back against the back rest of the sofa and kneeling down between your bare legs. His eyes are on you.

“I have to warn you,” he starts and you gape at him, expecting some cocky remark that will make you roll your eyes at him. “If we do this – if you let me between your legs – it will not be the one time. I will be coming back for seconds and you will be coming, too. A lot. Tonight. Tomorrow. A week from now. This is it.”

You swallow hard, your eyes wide and frozen onto his relentlessly handsome face. He isn’t joking. In fact, you don’t think you have ever seen him this serious before. And for Bucky, that is saying something. But for him to admit something like that, hint towards borderline addiction when it comes to pleasing you – it does things to your heart and pussy that you cannot describe.

“Kiss me first,” you tell him. You need to kiss him first.

Bucky smiles – smiles – and lifts up on his knees, cupping your neck and pulling you forward instantly, giving you no time to come back from your request. When his lips touch yours, you let out a tiny gasp, the feeling of his lips against you making your chest lurch and your brain scream. His lips part and you moan softly into the kiss when your tongues meet, the strawberry texture of it making you want to whine. Instead, your hands grasp the collar of his shirt and pull him closer. He hums contently against you and both your breathing becomes more laboured.

Bucky pulls back a few times before diving back in, dragging his teeth over your lips and teasing you with the absence of him. Until you are a wet and throbbing mess between your legs. It is when you start wriggling in your seat, that Bucky chuckles and pulls back a final time.

“Getting a bit antsy?” he asks, his hands stroking your thighs as he sits back on his knees.

“Over three-hundred pages, Bucky…” you remind him.

He smiles again and pushes your knees apart once more, leaning forward as his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You lean back and watch him closely, your attention solely focused on the rugged man between your legs.

His thumb starts to slowly rub over your clit and you gasp at the touch, it somehow feeling incredibly unnatural to have Bucky in that position. It being his touch that is causing you so much pleasure – and pain. God, you’re throbbing painfully now and you cannot help the whine squeaking from your lips.

“Shh, I know. I’ll get to it.”

It does make you relax, his words and his tone, and you make yourself sink into the couch, your hands reaching down to run through his hair. He smirks and locks his eyes with yours, slowly – so slowly – leaning down to replace his thumb with his mouth. And you can’t help the heavenly sigh that spills from you when it finally makes contact with your aching core.

“Oh Bucky,” you moan and tug softly on his hair as you throw your head back. He’s there in seconds, bringing you to that long-awaited peak. Apparently, you don’t need much when it comes to Bucky, the man himself being foreplay enough for you to launch towards release.

“Mhm,” he hums, “that’s it. That’s good.”

The warmth of his tongue is making you shiver, the slurping sounds coming from between your legs making you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back. If only to focus on holding out, on not drenching his face. It’s sinful, the protective, passive and gorgeous Bucky Barnes on his knees for you. Capable of destruction and so much violence, unrelenting towards everyone and a grump in his social life – but he’s on his knees for you.

Your moans and words of encouragement are growing incoherent, your belly tightening as Bucky hauls you closer to avoid any distance between your drenched pussy and his mouth. He’s slow, meticulous and ravenous as he eats you, his fingers rolling into your flesh as if he’s savouring every place where he’s touching you.

He is.

It’s unreal, to have such a beautiful woman above him, moaning and panting and grabbing at him while he does something he enjoys so much. His mouth won’t stop watering. God, he’s addicted. He has to remind himself to breathe when his tongue is desperate to make the pitch of your voice raise, get you to your release. He has to know what it is like to see you come, feel you come, hear you come – taste your come.

He needs you, he needs you, he needs you.

Then his finger gently traces the inside of your entrance, wiggling around to spread you open, and you start choking on your moans, your breaths sounding outright painful and your fingers curling around his wrist and into the cushion below you.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky!”

He hums and wraps his lips around your clit once more, rolling it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it. And you crash, the tightness in your body coming to a high before every muscle and tendon snaps into pure euphoria. You buck and roll your hips into Bucky’s mouth, riding the waves of your orgasm with breathy, raspy moans that make Bucky’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

Violent tremors rack through your body as you come down and Bucky ceases his assault on your pussy, which is still pulsating heavily from the warm orgasm that seeps from your body. You finally open your eyes, looking at a Bucky who is completely alert and satisfied.

“Tomorrow,” he licks his lips clean, eyes shimmering with delight, “you’re going to read that chapter to me. And you’re going to sit on my face while you do so. If you manage to keep reading, I’ll make sure you keep coming.”

As long as you’re okay.

And maybe a bit better than okay.

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: 𝐃𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚/𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 ◇

Prove It

【Synopsis】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?

『W.C』 : 3.10k

-> Genre: College Au. Smut. Poly.

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Stark!Reader

[Warnings] : Man handling. Clit play. Pet names. Dirty talk. Neck kisses. Fingering. Oral. Crying. Overwhelming amount of emotions leading to a type of subspace. Ass slapping. Making out. Sweet kisses. This is jut all over the place I’m sorry.

Masterlist

You couldn’t recall the time, but your hazy eyes and wobbly legs made it out to seem it was nearing at least three in the morning. You weren't a morning person, and neither seemed to be your body. But you couldn’t sleep, no, you needed a glass of water before your throat shrivelled up on itself. You hummed and hared over it, and in the end, you kicked up the blankets and headed to the kitchen. You had planned to down a bottle, waddle back to your room, and lay staring at the ceiling until it was appropriate to officially get out of bed. That was until;

“I’m just saying I see no chance of that ever happening.” Bucky's whisper, yelled through the dark home. You assumed he was in the lounge. Curious, you headed over to see what he might be talking about. Gazing into the room without detection, you notice Bucky sitting on the twin couch while another, scruff-haired, sits on the opposite couch. “Steve…” He sighed, “I’m gonna lose my mind at this point.”

“We could always just, ask.” Steve sounded as if he had discovered the perfect answer. But Bucky throwing a pillow in his direction says otherwise.

“For a dude majoring in social studies, you are stupid.” Bucky tisked, leaning back so his head would drape over the top of the couch. You decided to step out and make your presence known, wanting to join and see what this oh, so terrible situation they seemed to have put themselves in.

“Ask who?” You responded, making both men physically jump. Neither of them must have heard you when you were slamming the fridge before. Bucky suddenly sat up straight while Steve reached for the pillow that was thrown at him. You raised your eyebrow a little, choosing to sit on the loveseat by yourself. Were they acting weird, or was it just your imagination?

“Oh just school drama, don’t worry about it.” Steve was quick to cut off any more questions. They were definitely acting weird, and you hated that. Most of the time, out of all your brother's friends, Steve and Bucky were the friendliest. They treated you like a person and not some little girl or ‘Tony's Little Sister’.

“Hmm…” You didn’t know how to respond that wouldn’t turn into something sour. So you chose to just let it go. It’s not like it was the first time one of your brother's friends cut you off because it was ‘school-related’ even though they were all in their second-to-last year in Uni while you had only just started. On top of that, they treated you as if you were still this young eighteen-year-old. Most of them even forgetting you were twenty-one already.

“Sorry doll. It’s just…We don’t need to bore you with our stupid drama. Besides I’m more interested to hear about that boyfriend of yours. How have you two been getting along?” Bucky diverted the conversation as easy as breathing. One of his many skills. Sweet talking. You wanted to roll your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, well, ex now. You don’t even know why you started dating him. Oh wait, you only started dating him to see if it affected Buck or Steve. But neither of them showed signs of disapproval. Which annoyed you. Your crush on them was getting out of hand, and your friend suggested dating someone to see if they would react, but now you wished you never took that advice from her.

“Ex. He, uh, wasn’t a great person. And in every aspect, full of himself and…” You stopped yourself, feeling blush, scatter your cheeks. You were really about to confess something about your sex life to them. Steve raised his eyebrow while Bucky clicked his tongue. Their attention was completely on yours, and it made you squirm.

“And?” Steve had a feeling what you wanted to say but he wanted to hear it from your pretty lips first.

“And…He wasn't experienced in the…L-Love department.” You gulped suddenly shaking your head. “But it’s not like I knew anything either given he was my first and all but like you should at least know where to pleasure a woman you know? Like I didn’t know how uncomfortable sex was until he decided to do it. It was so awful and I just—” You suddenly realized you word vomited and cringed internally. “Wanna crawl into a hole and never see the light of day again.”

It stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassment riddle your body. But then Steve's laugh caught everyone's attention. “It’s okay. We all have that type of relationship at some point, but he couldn’t be that bad.” Steve tried to lighten the mood, trying to make you feel better, but it didn’t really help. You stole a quick glance at Bucky and noticed he was also looking at you with some type of remorse, feeling bad for you. You just groaned, pushing your legs to your chest, hugging them tightly.

“No, he was pathetic, if I’m honest. I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s true… he only cared for his needs..” It was like a switch went off in both male's heads. They knew what you were referencing, and they both couldn’t help but groan at you, basically saying you couldn’t get off to your ex. Admitting you were sexually frustrated. Admitting he couldn’t even do the simplest job of finding your sweet spot. You gulped, feeling the air become thicker as tension started to brew in the room. You shifted slightly, seeing Steve and Bucky both seem to become tense, stealing glances at one another.

“Finding the clit isn’t that hard darling.” Bucky chuckled lewdly making Steve laugh in response but you snapped instead;

“That’s what all men say.” You huffed.

“I can prove it.” Bucky's words made you choke on your own saliva. Did he really just say he could prove it? How would he do that?

“P-prove it?” You gulped now sitting in a crossed-legged position.

“Yeah I’ll prove it. Come here.” He smirked, patting his thigh while spreading his legs. You were hesitant for a moment. Was this all a trick? Some cruel game? You trusted your bothers friends with your life, but one thing you knew about them was they are heart breakers. Bad boys. And that they didn’t have the best track record with keep partners. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

His voice was stern, and it made something tingle inside you. Slowly getting up, you hesitantly walked the three steps till you were standing right in front of him. He took that as a green light, grabbing your thighs to pull you onto him. Your hands found perch on his shoulders while your legs fell on either side of his lap, spreading yourself open on top of him. He stared at you in amusement, watching you like a hawk about to consume its prey. Your body felt hot, and your cheeks were dusted with a deep red. You’ve never been this close to him before. Never been so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. His hands squeezing your hips. His erection twitched beneath you. “You ready to be proven wrong, Darling?”

You nodded before slipping out a quick breathy ‘yes’. You felt the couch shift and noticed out the corner of your eye that Steve had taken a seat next to you and Bucky. The younger however didn’t do anything, just stayed back and stared at what might unfold in front of him. Bucky placed his fingers against your chin, making your attention completely his. The grin he wore sent shivers down your spine, and the hand that danced so closely to your inner thigh made you want to roll your eyes back in pleasure. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna place my two fingers on your clit through your sleep shorts and if I find it. I want you to moan my name. Can you do that Dollface?”

You blurted a ‘yes’ a little bit too quickly, but you couldn’t care. All you could think about was Bucky and him touching you. So without another moment, Buck brought his fingers to your inner thigh, hovering just where you need him. You could tell he was faking in “trying” to find your button. He knew where it was, but he wanted to watch you squirm a little bit first. And before you could mutter anything he place his fingers right on your clit making you gasp. “James.”

“Told you I could prove it.” His confidence radiated off him, rubbing your nub in little circle, making you thread your fingers in his loose shirt. Your hips were stuttering, begging to move, and your eyes were sewn shut, focusing on the pleasure alone.

“Hey, I wanna try.” Steve's deep voice tickled your ear, making your head snap over to him. You didn’t even get a chance to protest, even though you knew you wouldn’t, before wrapping his large arms around your waist and picking you up so he could place you on his lap. Your back was firmly against his chest, letting him shove his face in your neck. You felt his lips graze your hot skin, making you wiggle in his hold. “Let’s make this more fun.”

Steve's fingers hooked under your sleep shorts, making you freeze. Your eyes are glued to Buck's dark ones. They were blown out, watching you carefully with lust. You lifted your hips without saying anything, letting Steve take your shorts off, along with your panties. Your heart was racing at the thought they were both going to touch you, but your mind also wandered to the others in the house. Yes, they all might be sleeping, but any of them could walk in and see what the two men were doing to you. “S-Stevie pleasee.”

“Oh, Sugar, I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckled, making Bucky lowly laugh at your desperation. These boys had you wrapped around their fingers. Steve slid his hand up your thigh, spreading your legs wide so Bucky got a good view of your dripping cunt. You tried to close them, but Steve's strong grasp kept them still. You felt embarrassed being the only one basically naked, and on top of it being naked in front of two people you had a huge crush on. Neither of them seemed to mind one bit though, Bucky having the temptation to latch his lips on your soaked cunt while Steve wanted nothing more then to fuck you with his fingers until you were crying.

Actually now that he thinks about it, that sounds like the perfect idea.

“And 3…2…1” His finger pressed perfectly on your clit making you jump. “Gotcha.” Steve grins, licking a strip up your neck, placing kisses down on your shoulder blade. His fingers circle your clit furiously, causing a hiccup to spit out of you. Bucky took this moment to lay down on his stomach so he was face to face with your pussy. He slid his long hot tongue along your folds.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Buckkyy. S-Stev―” Steve suddenly covered your mouth with his hand, hushing you from screaming. Your hips bucked, feeling Bucky slowly push a finger inside you. Your eyes sealed shut tight, feeling Steve's fingers on your clit, his lips biting and sucking all over your neck and Bucky's tongue lapping your juices up while he fucked you with his digits. It was like a sinful wet dream had come true and your mind was spinning at the thought.

“As much as we’d love to hear you scream our names. You better keep those pretty moans on the down-low doll. Otherwise, someone might hear us. And we won't want that now, do we.” Steve's deep voice grunted in your ear as you just nodded in response, losing yourself once again in the touch of both men. Tears start to prickle on the sides of your eyes as you felt your stomach tie itself in knots. You were so close to coming undone yet so fair as well. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore, and you needed more. You tried to speak, but your mouth was covered tightly. Bucky continued with his assault on your cunt, shoving another two fingers in while lapping up your cream all the while Steve had dressed you in his marks from the top of your neck to your back down your shoulder blade. His fingers never left your clit either.

“mm…mmm.” No matter how hard you tried to warn them something felt different about your high fast approaching. The large hand over your mouth made it ultimately useless. You bucked your hips moving in time with Bucky's fingers, feeling yourself begin to cry. And not cry like a few simply tears, no. You began to sob, feeling so overwhelmed and unable to communicate, made your mind shift into a place you had no idea existed. Your brain mushed, making you feel like you were floating. And only Steve and Bucky were around. You let go. Screaming a muffled whale, you squirted all over Bucky's face. Your tears stained Steve's hand while your nose began to drool. Once Buck helped you lessen your high, he sat up, taking a look at the mess you made.

“Awe princess. Look at this.” he gathered some of your cum and pushed it against Steve's lips. He sucked on the other male's finger with a groan making you cry even more. They both took notice of your tears and removed the hand over your mouth. You hiccuped, whimpering. Sobbing. Your fingers dug into the couch as Steve finally let you close your legs. Everything was happening all at once, and your body was aching from the awkward position. But you need your boys. You needed them to look after you.

“P-Please Sirs…I need more…” Your sweet high pitched voice caused both men to groan, feeling their cocks harden in their pants.

“Fuck Sugar. You okay?” Ste e tilted your head to the side so he could look at you. Your face was red, puffy and wet. “Pretty baby is crying. Did it feel that good?”

You couldn’t find a response in your fuzzy brain, so instead, you kissed him. Steve's eyes grew wide for a second, not thinking you’d kiss him. But who is he to complain when your lips were so soft and kissable. Cupping your face, he deepened the kiss, making you shake. He pulled away first, letting your catch your breath, but you did see it like that suddenly sitting up you got on all fours so you could reach, Bucky who was leaning on the other end of the couch. Your face was inches from his but didn’t move until he placed his fingers on your chin.

The kiss was desperate and rough. Bucky's fingers raked through your hair before tugging at it, making your hips wiggle, which conveniently made your bare ass jiggle in front of Steve. Now, saying Steev was an ass man was an understatement. This man lives for asses, and your ass was definitely one of the prettiest ones he's ever seen. He gave a harsh slap, sending a loud clap echoing through the room. Your moan was swallowed by Bucky, letting him shove his tongue deep down your throat. Steve kept slapping your bare cheeks, finding pleasure in seeing his hand prints appear on your soft skin.

“Hey, punk if we keep going I might have to fuck her,” Steve said so casually as if neither of them were tainting your idea of pleasure permanently. Bucky pulled away making you chase his lips.

“I think we need to end it otherwise we’d both be fucking her. And I don’t think we have the time.” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to place his arms on either side of the couch, tilting his head back with a sigh. Steve rubbed your ass, helping you sit up back to lean against his chest. His hands danced around your hips snaked up your shirt noticing you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Too bad, we didn’t get to play with these yet.” Steve cupped your breasts, squeezing them harshly. Your eyes never left Bucky's form. He tilted his head up briefly to watch Steve's hands play with your covered tits. You bit your lip, lifting your shirt up so he could see Steve’s assault.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned wanting nothing more than to have those tits in his mouth. He sighed shaking his head before standing up to pick up your shorts and panties up. “Come on sweet thing, let’s get you to bed.”

You whined at the idea of having to end such a pleasurable ordeal. But sadly, they were right. You had no clue how long you’d been at this, and if your brother were to wake up, there would be hell to pay. You take your clothes from Bucky, putting them back on while Steve helped you stand. Your breathing was heavy, and your legs were on godly wobbly, but Steve's hard, strong arms kept you up. Once dressed, you looked up to Bucky, seeing a sweeter, less lustful smile on his features. He stood so close while Steve stood flush behind you. They were effectively sandwiching you. Bucky gave you a long, drawn-out kiss before guiding your face with his fingers on your chin to Steve, letting the other man seal his lips against your own. It felt so natural to be shared by them. And they felt the same. It was like one fluid motion. Comfort. And you were hating that it was ending. Once Steve pulled away, you looked back at Bucky, getting ready to wish them a good night. Until he said ;

“Don’t worry Doll. This isn’t over yet. Our fun is only beginning.”

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

Hi there, can you please do Yandere Thor, Poseidon, Loki and possibly Hercules to Female Yoriichi Reader? The creator of the Sun Breathing and the other Breathing Forms, who always has a solemn expression and is known as the Strongest Demon Slayer to ever exist (She has access to the Transparent World and can use the Selfless State) but despite this she’s incredibly humble seeing herself as just another human and not even special, despite her extraordinary skills

Yoriichi gave Muzan such severe PTSD from 400 YEARS ago that his Upper Moons will go through his trauma just from seeing TANJIRO (And it’s STILL severely traumatic to him 😂)

Or

Yandere Shiva, Loki, Buddha and Hercules with Female Tengen Uzui Reader from KNY? How do you think they would react to Reader calling herself ‘Goddess of Festivals/Flashiness’ and calling others (Even GODS) ‘Trash’ and having 3 HUSBANDS 💀

Sorry if this is a lot! I just think Demon Slayer Characters are super cool, especially the Hashiras (The Swordsmith Village Arc is going to be released sometime in April! 🥹🤩)

Thor, Poseidon, and Loki + Fem! Yoriichi Tsugikuni! Reader:

One of these three gods stands on one side of the arena, their grand entrance causing a ruckus of enthusiastic roars and cheers from the side of the gods while the humans side shook with terror. They look at the other side, confident and ready to see the pitiful mortal that Brunhilde had served to them on a silver platter. It was a woman.

She makes no flashy entrance, her clothes are rather average, and her face does not seem scared but nor does it seem too cocky. Her (e/c) eyes are serene and her (h/c) hair was rather average looking. She was a regular looking human, nothing special. Aside from the strange looking birthmark on her left eye.

"AND IF YOU LOOK OVER FOLKS, THE NEXT FOOL WHO WILL BE CHALLENGING THE GODS IS A SWORDSWOMAN WHO DOMINATED THE SENGOKU ERA-"

"Please." The (h/c) haired woman interrupts, Heimdall goes silent and so does everyone else, unsheathing her sword, she looks at Heimdall with a composed look on her face, it was not unkind, "I do not need such an introduction. I am a human like the rest of my kind."

She then gets into her defensive stance and narrows her eyes at her divine opponent.

"And I shall do whatever it takes to save them."

The god you're against either glares at you, smiles at you, or raises an eyebrow at you. Either way, Heimdall recovers his voice:

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, (Y/N) (L/N), THE SUN BREATHING SWORD ARTIST AND MOTHER OF ALL BREATHING METHODS. NIGHTMARE OF MUZAN KIBUTSUJI AND THE STRONGEST HASHIRA HUMANITY HAS KNOWN!"

"So that's who you are," the God thinks to himself as you maintain unbreakable eye contact, "that hardly matters."

Yandere! Thor:

- Thor doesn't think much of you when you step into the arena, not because you're a human, but because he has yet to see you fight. You seem unfazed by him but he doesn't truly know that for sure. You are not unattractive but you're nothing special in his eyes.

- What a fool he was, because the moment the battle begins, he sees that you aren't just beautiful, you're absolutely heavenly. When you take your first breath, you take away his as large solar fires soon appear around you and you make your attack.

"What is this?" He asks himself in his head, using his Mjölnir to block another close sneak attack blow from your sword. The clashing of your weapon and his own makes his heart do flips in his chest, "Why...why do I feel like this?"

You then decided to be bold and you quickly, nearly teleported with the speed you were going, appear in front of him and your eyes glint, reflecting off your blade as you try to slash him. His eyes soften when they see you and his blood thirsty smile softens as your eyes lock onto his. There was fire in your eyes...no...the sun itself glowed in them. Powerful, burning, yet composed.

"What has she done to me?" He thinks, and you're not sure if it's from the intensity of the battle but his cheeks appear to be dusted the lightest color of pink.

- Your fight ends in a draw, the both of are so tired that you neither of you can move a muscle. Both God's and Humans are shocked at the results but Thor couldn't be happier.

- He just found his soulmate, he thinks to himself as you try to use your sword to get up and fight him again. His smile turns into a loving one as you struggle to get close to him, not that he can judge since he can also barely move, and he loves it! In fact, he now knows that he loves you.

- You will be his! You have to be, surely you were created to match him in power and strength because you were meant to be with him. After being fixed up and bandaged, he must seek you out, he must find you!

- Since then, the God of Thunder has been keeping his eye on you, his beautiful Sun. How you appear unreadable at first but if someone truly read you, truly attempted to understand what a complex and beautiful person you are like Thor has; they can see that you're more than a human...You're humble, you're kind, and you're dutiful. Honorable like him and share the same values, this only seals your fate to him even more.

- Odin notices how during other God's battles that his son scans the human's side, his eyes desperately searching for someone in the crowd. Thor knows for a fact that you always come to watch your fellow Human's matches in person and when his eyes land on you, that adrenaline kicks in and Loki and Odin stare at him as a smile grows on his face.

- He does this every match, but even then, the time between matches is too long for him to see you again. He searches for you, Brunhilde having to confront him as she reminds him that the HUMAN champions reside here but he ignores her the moment he sees you walk down the hallway. He follows you quickly like how the moon chases the sun.

- You turn and see him and you politely bow your head to him. He frowns a bit in dissaproval, how could you bow your head to him as if he were a stranger, surely you had to feel the same feelings he was after your battle. How you two danced a brutal yet beautiful dance of life and death. You stare at each other for a bit before you muster a kind yet small smile, "I look forward to our rematch." and as a result, he nods with his usual stoic demeanor and you turn and walk to your room. Yes, he can't wait for your rematch either.

- Because one the day it takes place, Heimdall shocks everyone with his newest announcement.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME TO THE FIRST RAGNAROK REMATCH OF THR GOD OF THUNDER VS. THE LADY OF THE SUN. EXCEPT, THE CONDITIONS ARE DIFFERENT THIS TIME."

- You don't like the way the red-haired God smiles at you, it feels smug and ominous, and you paitently wait to hear this last minute change.

"IN THE CASE THAT OUR ESTEEMED PRINCE OF ASGARD WINS, HE HAS REQUESTED THAT INSTEAD OF SENDING (Y/N) TO NIFLHIEM THAT SHE IS TO BELONG TO HIM INSTEAD."

- You look at Brunhilde, who looks away shamefully and can not meet your gaze, and then you look at Thor. Who looks a lot more motivated to beat you this time.

Yandere! Poseidon:

- He wanted to roll his eyes when you interrupted him. What right did you have to act so humble? You're a human, what could you possibly have to be humble about? Being a mere ant he steps on on a daily basis?

- Fine, if you want a wake up call, he'll give you one. He waits for you to strike, it wouldn't hurt to give you an advantage since there's no way something as insignificant as you can beat him. Until you grip your nichirin blade and take a deep breath, suddenly the water arena evaporates into steam as intense flames surround you...no, not mere flames. It felt like the sun itself.

- You use the steam to sneak and attack the God, whose now even more annoyed than ever. Smoke and mirrors, that's all it was. Poseidon REFUSES to allow you to think you have an advantage and tries to kill you with his strongest attacks but even then, its not enough.

A draw, your battle ended in a draw. He can't believe it, as he kneels down on one leg bleeding and holding onto his trident for support as you pant heavily on the other side, your throat burning but you still have the bright gaze in your eyes, the eyes of someone who just humbled a God. He was in denial at first, then he was angry. Destroying everything in sight at the humiliation he faced at your hand. He knew you two were set for a rematch BUT HE NEEDED VENGANCE FOR HIS SCORNED PRIDE NOW. Looking for you all around heaven, he threatened and interrogated many of your human allies and located you inside the greenhouse. It was bright and beautiful day as always, but it did little to improve his mood. The only thing that could is your dead body at his feet, evidence that you were just as every bit of a failure as the rest of humanity.

However he stops when he sees you. The artful way you practice your sword. The calm rise and fall of your chest all perfectly timed to enhance your fighting style and your moves, the same ones you used to tie with him, slowed down and filled with grace and strength. His heart makes his brain forget that you are human, the thing he detested the most in this life, and his anger is replaced with something else. Respect? Admiration?

No, it was none of those things.

In fact, it was something more passionate. More shameful in the eyes of gods. Something that you will soon find is worth than his anger.

- He observes you a lot more from then on. You aren't sure why since last you checked, he had looked down on you like you were the dirt beneath his feet, but you come here at the exact same time on the exact same day, and so does he.

- You don't speak to him, he wants you too. Haven't you humiliated him enough already? apparently not since you didn't even glance at him as you trained and he knows damn well you see him.

- "What are you?" He finally asks as he pushes down his broken pride. You stare at him, your solemn face broken when he asked you that question. "You are not a human," He explains, "You can't be. Humans are not meant to be...to be so..." he pauses and looks down, to any normal person, he looks pissed and like he's gonna attack but you only raise an eyebrow. W-was he being shy?

- "Beautiful." He finally answers, and for a brief moment that stoicism breaks in shock at his words. "You can not be a human. You are too beautiful. Humans can not be beautiful." It takes you a while to find your voice but when you do, you merely keep your composure: "Humans are many things, Lord Poseidon. We are strong, we are compassionate, and, yes, we can be beautiful."

- No, he thinks to himself, humans are not beautiful. This is a fact he's known for a long, long time. Yet, you were a human and here he was, admiring you every day and watching you in utter awe. Only you, he decides. Humans are not beautiful, only you are.

- He hates how humble you are, he absolutely despises it. Do you not have any respect for yourself? How can you allow yourself to think that you're anything like those worthless worms who snivel and beg pathetically at the feet of the gods. He believes there has been a mistake in the universe, he believes you're insulting yourself when you downplay your status and feats. Can't you see? They're beneath you! Humanity is beneath you! He has to fix this. He has to fix you.

- The day of your rematch with Poseidon, neither of you are seen. The gods search for him and the Valkyries try to rummage through your room and found only one shocking clue. A letter left on your bed written by Poseidon, who believes that deciding the fate of Humanity was beneath him and how he had more important matters involving you. He sits next to your unconscious sleeping form on his bed, his fingers in your hair as you sleep so beautifully. You needed to learn to take more pride in yourself, to be taken away from the shackles of humility humanity put on you, and Poseidon was more than happy to teach you how.

Yandere! Loki:

- He was rather unimpressed with your entrance and appearance, honestly. A smirk on his face as he looks you up and down, you certainly weren't wrong when you said you were a human, for that's what was before him. A measly average human.

- Honestly, he feels rather insulted and that this fight isn't gonna be as exciting as he had hoped. That wasn't fair! Every other God got fun humans but him! Oh well, at least he has an excuse to torture a human and humiliate them in front of everyone~

- Summoning his own weapons, he just tilts his head: "You know, interrupting Heimdall was a little dramatic don't you think? If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you secretly put yourself on a pedastal."/ "I do not, I just merely am stating a fact. I am a human who bleeds just like the rest of humanity."/ Loki then smiles: "I'm so happy you think that! Because you're gonna die like the rest of them!"

- His attack is planned in his head, first a chain wraps around you and his other blade will slit your throat and soon, you'll suffer as- "I never said we bled easily." Your voice is right behind him. He looks over his shoulder and reacts in time but when you breathe, he can't act fast enough before of the display of a divine light that surrounds you now. You slice his shoulder and it burns, he holds it and glares at you. You drew first blood, but he'll make sure you don't get lucky again.

- Until you both are exaughsted from the battle and it ends in a tie. Loki feels himself growing weak and his last sight before losing consciousness is you. Surprisingly, when he wakes up, the first thing he sees is you as well. Sitting next to him, bandages on your wounds and a book in your hands. You notice from the corner of your eyes that he is awake.

- You apologize instantly for his wounds, despite the fact it is a literal fight to the death. In fact, your exact words to him are: "I aimed all of my attacks to kill swiftly, it was not my intention to make you suffer like the demons who have met my blade. In our next battle, I will make sure to be strong enough to kill you properly and respectfully."

- He isn't sure what to think of this, what to think of you. But it makes him smile for some reason, maybe he smiles at your foolishness for thinking you could kill HIM (you were close but he blames it on fortune), or maybe he smiles because it's very rare that someone honors him, a God of mischief and trickery, the same way they'd honor more noble gods like his uncle and cousin. Or maybe it was the smile you gave him...yes, that was it. It was your smile that sealed your fate.

- Loki can now be found wherever you are, like an annoying stray who keeps coming back to the hand that fed him once. Maybe he wants to annoy you, maybe he wants to flirt. Anything just to see you change that serious boring look on your face...maybe smile for him, yeah? He just hasn't been able to get it out of his mind.

- But, nah, you're too boring. That's his little pet name for you "His Boring Little Mortal", he'll complain about you but if anyone else was to speak ill, God or Human, he becomes indignant and reminds them of your good traits like your nobility and how you held yourself in battle.

- He's honestly the same when he's a yandere, as I said before, but the key major difference is that all it takes is one miniscule thing and suddenly, he comes more possessive. More protective and more suffocating. Like, he's watching you during a Ragngarok match and you smile at someone. To others, it might not be a big deal but to him, it very much is. Because it wasn't fair, YOUR SMILE BELONGED TO HIM. NOT TO ANYONE ELSE. TO HIM. YOU SMILED AT HIM FIRST SO IT'S HIS! YOU ARE HIS.

You lost the battle.

Your nobility, your humbleness, and your kindness wasn't enough to match the God of Deciet's wit and cunning. Your on both your knees, coughing up blood and unable to move your body as you hear the loud chain rattling of his weapons. You can hear the humans behind you begging you to get up, urging you to fight but you can't, your heart's strength was there but your body's was not. You feel ashamed but at least you can die knowing you did your best. Loki looks down at you, his hands at his sides, and his face stoic in a very unsettling manner. All he has to do is kill you, all he has to do is-"

"...I don't want too." He frowns, crossing his arms and looking the other way. You look at him in shock as the God's outrage as well as the humans. "LOKI, WHAT TREACHERY IS THIS!?" One of Odin's crows, well, crowed loudly.

Loki stuck out his tounge before shrugging, "I don't know, I mean, what am I winning? A step closer to humanity's destruction? We're gods! I want a something else! A prize~" He says slyly. The gods outrage once more before Zeus sighs, knowing nothing can be simple with the green haired god and tiredly asked him, "Fine, what prize must we give you if you kill (Y/n) (L/n)?" Zeus asked, making Loki grin wolfishly.

The arena becomes quiet and Loki kneels in front of you, cupping your face in his hands and tilting your head. What a cute face you're making, so confused and ready to die. He wonders what face you would make if he just...

Kissed you passionately, pressing his lips to your blood covered ones and shocking you and both audiences of mortals and immortals. You don't kiss him back, you don't even have time to think before he pulls away from you and looks at you with half lidded eyes.

Yes, that face is so much cuter on you. He wonders what other faces you could make.

But first, he has to answer the question Zeus asked him, "Why, the only prize that matters to me of course!~"

"(Y/n) (L/n), the Sun Hashira herself!"

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

—fantabulous ii

A/N: i have a headache so if this is shit sorry, continuation of this fic

Prompt: none

Pairing(s): Ilya “Julian” Devorak x reader

CW: semi public, blood, alcohol, blowjob, handjob, orgasm denial/ruined orgasm

Notes: gn!reader, nsfw

You pushed Julian against the stony wall of the alley behind the Rowdy Raven, pressing your lips against his. He tasted of bitter alcohol; the same one that he’d been drunk on for a while now. He whimpered against your lips as you bit down on his lip hard enough to draw a little blood.

Bare, clammy hands tightened on your waist while you moved your kisses down his neck and collar. Spilled bitters rendered his skin to taste just as addictive as his lips.

“W—wait, I— mmgh!” His breathing shallowed. “That feels— feels too good, my love, slow d—!”

All the words he had lined up were scrambled up by the time you had your knee pushed between his legs. “What were you saying, baby? I thought you needed some motivation?”

You could feel his excitement radiating off of him, both in his nearly overwhelming magickal energy and his… physicals. His face was flushed, pupils blown out as he ground down on your leg desperately.

“Please… god, please touch me.” He whined, voice laced with need.

“Touch you?” You tugged his collar lower, nipping at his nape, murmuring. “I thought we’d agreed on one more kiss.”

“No, no, I— I mean… yes, but…” he bit his lip, the red tint in his cheeks deepening a few shades.

“You need some more motivation?” You lowered a hand, palming him over his pants, letting out a laugh at the sound he made. “Greedy, greedy little thing, aren’t you?”

His hips bucked at your touch. “Please, more… need more.”

“Fine then.” You dropped to your knees, looking him in the eye, unblinking. “Just a little more motivation, yeah?"

His long fingers tangled themselves in his curls. "Y-yes! Yes, please! Thank you!"

"Don't thank me just yet, my love." You lowered a hand to his pants, tugging them lower on his waist. “You don’t even know what you’ll be thanking me for, y’know. No one said I’m gonna be merciful.”

Pressing your cold lips to the tip of his flushed cock, you relished the soft whimpers that sounded above you. The bitter-salty taste on your lips was dissimilar to the one you’d tasted previously, despite being similar in theory. The former was just much more… not pleasant, but more so bearable. It was the taste of your lover.

“Ha—aangh…” he panted, hand lowering to his lips. “Keep— ha—ah… keep going, darling.”

“Getting bossy, Jules? That’s no good.” You dragged a fingertip along the head. “Do I need to teach you some manners?”

“No! Er— no, I’ll be—“ he paused with a groan, a bead of pre dripping down onto your hand. “I-I’ll be good.”

You wrapped your lips around the tip, inching up and down, letting your teeth graze his most sensitive parts. He hissed in pain, but you could tell by the way he tugged at his own hair, he was practically drunk on lust.

He leaked all over your hands, rendering them slick with a sticky-clear film. His thighs shook and pressed together in an attempt to steady himself.

“You’re drooling everywhere, love, does that feel so good?” You pumped him with one hand, giving small kitten licks.

He looked down at you with heavy lids. “You don’t even kn— ah~!”

Knees buckling, he crumpled against the wall, twitching in your hand. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Watch out, you’re gonna fall like that, darling.” You warned him, not bothering to slow your pace, seeing how close he was.

“I’m… nngh!”

You let go of him, letting him fall to his knees, dick bobbing in the air awkwardly. His brow creased first in desperation, then confusion.

Pulling out a handkerchief, you wiped off your hands. “I never gave you permission to cum. Get up and clean yourself up, my love, we should get going.”

“You’re…” he laughed a little, buttoning his pants. “You’re evil, my dear.”

“And here I thought I was fantabulous!”

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

Can I get some more dominate Julian smut? Preferably with ropes and bondage included 👀

Yes! Absolutely, dominant Julian is the best Julian imo.

Pairing: Julian Devorak x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, brat taming, restraints, dirty talk, tie restraints, gag, marking, dom!Julian Devorak

A/N: Maybe it's just me but I'm seeing a lot of asks lately about bondage. Were you all this M before this or did I unlock something in you?

He likes tying up and to be tied up, give him a collar and a leash and he's all set

Very much a brat tamer, if you give him attitude and he has something to push back against with you it makes for a very fun time for him

Doesn't want to bruise your wrists or ankles so if he ties you up he uses softer material that you can safely tug on

"Keep squirming and I'll have to pin you down entirely. You need to let me line up darling." His cock has been teasing and poking at you for a while now, you get the sense that he's been doing that on purpose just to get you struggling harder despite what he's saying

"I'm trying to make you feel good. I though you wanted it. Am I wrong?" You shake your head, trying to will your body to hold still long enough for him to thrust his cock inside, "See, you can be good when you want to. All you needed was my cock to motivate you."

He doesn't wait for you to tell him to move, he doesn't have to, your cunt clenching around him tells him everything he needs to know

His thumb pushes against your lips, prying them open and rubbing the pad against your tongue, "Don't suck, keep your mouth open." But you want to suck, you want to close your mouth around him, "Can't you understand simple words, I told you no." He pulls his thumb out roughly and presses it against your clit, "You're making me repeat myself, why are you so difficult sometimes? Do you enjoy making me mad?"

Your cunt clenches around him, leaking more arousal onto his cock and balls as they slap against you, words of affirmation leaving you in a sharp hiss

"Ah, so I was right. It's better for you when I'm a little bit mad." You try to reply to him but every word is cut off with a deep, sharp thrust, "If you're not gonna talk properly you really atta shut up." He pulls out, leaving you feeling sore, empty and aching from the emptiness

He watches your pussy clench around nothing for a few moments, "You're so cute."

You watch him with teary eyes as he leaves the bed, leaving you alone and begging for him to come back, to not leave you right on the cusp of an orgasm

"I just need this." He shows you a silk tie, making you wonder where else he's gonna tie you up

As he kneels back between your legs he cups your cheek, watching you melt one moment and your eyes shoot open the next as your mouth is being gagged, "Good?" He gives it a little tug to make sure you're not choking on it, you nod at him, making small noises against the fabric, "Good." He presses a small kiss on the corner of your lips

You moan, whimper and do your best to beg him to get back inside, "Needy, needy." He chuckles at you, pressing his palm against your lower stomach as he slides back in

The palm of his hand presses against your clit when he begins thrusting, faster each time until your hips shake from the impact

It's so easy for him to fuck you like this, "You're so helpless like this. All you can do is take my cock, it's all you're allowed to do."

Your eyes start to blur from the tears and pleasure combined, "Come for me beautiful. Fuck." You can't control yourself anymore as your climax hits you when Julian's cock begins to throb inside you, pulsing and hot

He keeps fucking you through it as his own orgasm begins, splashing, painting your inner walls with white, hot cum, his eyes closing and fluttering as he groans out through it

Your vision goes completely white and for a few moments there's nothing except for Julian's warmth above and inside of you

"Good girl, good girl, good fucking girl! You feel so good baby, keep taking it!" He frowns and somehow goes even harder, prolonging your orgasms

He collapses with his head on your chest as his cock gives a few more little spurts, dripping onto the already wet sheets

You're both tired from your climaxes, Julian slowly pulls out and makes his way down your body, his tongue running over the puffy folds, whispering words of love to you

You squirm away from his mouth, too sensitive to enjoy it, "I get it, don't worry. I'm just cleaning you up a little, it's the least I can do after making such a mess of you."

A sigh leaves you, slightly muffled by the tie as you let him lick you up, kiss your, bite at your thighs until you've calmed down from your high

The evidence of both your climaxes is still all over his chin and torso when he leans against your leg and looks up at you, "You're incredible darling. I love you." He kisses the words against your leg, slowly making his way upwards to untie your mouth and do the same to your mouth

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

just to let you know i’m so proud of u bb @buckys-blunders 🥺💛

.

.

.

and YOU who are reading this

yes, YOU

YOU’ve outcome 100% of your worst days so far

YOU’ve won all your battles

YOU went through all the obstacles

to get were you are right now

with the help of friends, family, loved ones

or just by yourself

either way

i want you to know

that you are freaking amazing

and if you can’t say that yourself

i wil:

i am fucking proud of you.

Poems & Words

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

COVID-19 Pandemic: Heroic Women Homage by Milo Manara *

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

Tag Game

Thank you @captnrogers for tagging me :)

INSTRUCTIONS: tag 10 followers that you want to get to know better

NAME: Jamie-Lee

GENDER: Female

STAR SIGN: Pisces

HEIGHT: 5′6 (169 cm)

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin

SEXUALITY: Straight

FAV. ANIMAL: Stingrays, sloths, snakes

AVERAGE SLEEP TIME: Too damn little

CURRENT TIME: 12 am

DOGS OR CATS: I have both :)

BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH: At leeeaast 2 or 3

WHEN I MADE MY BLOG: Idk when I got my account, but I started using it actively last week

FOLLOWERS: 151 <3

WHY I MADE MY BLOG: I love writing, been doing it for years, and I’ve been reading on Tumblr for years too, so I figured I’d share my work with the internet :)

REASON FOR MY URL: well obviously Steve is a stud ;)

TAGGING: @parker-barnes-af @navispalace @steeeeverogers @buckys-blunders @marvel-moongirl @mrwinterr @capsgrantrogers @itsbucknasty @evans-angels

Ignore this if u don’t wanna do it ;)

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

oh god i read it wrong :(( so sorry!! i thought you were suggesting for someone to do it... so so so sorry!!

A smut about Yoosung and MC having telephone sex before they met each other, on his route

Who is interested in me writing it?

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

i plan on doing it as well ^^

A smut about Yoosung and MC having telephone sex before they met each other, on his route

Who is interested in me writing it?

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

For being so nice and cute, copy this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the GAME going and make others feel beautiful 💝💖

omg thank u so much !!!💛

im just so happy rn!!! you are amazing, love!!!

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

finally, my masterlist.

** stands for smut. you will realize i usually write a lot of them.

bonky boi barnes

- tell daddy a secret. **

the one where bucky finds out the hardest way that you have a daddy kink. 

golden boy aka steve rogers

- golden sand and summer skies. **

the one where you and steve hate (not tha much) each other and end up fucking your problems away.

loki “way too precious to be dead” friggason

- dental anxiety. **

the one where you are afraid of dentists. unless the dentist in question is loki. in that case you get super horny.

peter “can i say a bad word, mr. stark?” parker

- steal you for me. **

the one where tom (not peter) thinks he might be better for you than your current “fling”.

fem! reader x any male character of your choice

- tied up for you. **

the one where you disobey your darling bf and there are consequences.

#masterlist #finally #i should put more tags #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #captain rogers #loki imagine #loki odinson #loki x reader #sam winchester #steve imagine #steve rodgers x reader #winchesterbrothers #mcu fanfiction #mcu #steve rogers exhales big dick energy #sam winchester exhales big dick’s energy #tfw

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

already working on it!

btw have you guys checked golden sand and summer skies ? no?! well, you should...

#masterlist #the life of a tumblr writer #also im having yakisoba rn #and ive treated myself some bubble tea #passion fruit rocks! #writer #tumblr #writing tips

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

tell daddy a secret.

warnings! ok, let’s go again: cursing; spanking; obviously a daddy kink so if you don’t like that kind of stuff just click away; NSFW w/ plot ‘cause you guys may have realised im a slut for both; i guess that’s all for today.

and yess, you have to be over 18 to be reading this. tumblr’s rules, not mine.

words! not that much. don’t be dramatic. (jokes on me, the number you are looking for is 2940)

this is a fem!reader x bucky barnes imagine and unfortunately it’s just fictional.

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

You had a kink.

You had it for some time now. It was a bit obcsenioux. And dirty. Some may even consider it disturbed. But you liked it anyway. It was your kink afterall, nobody's business.

You had a daddy kink.

And a boyfriend as well. Although he didn’t exactly know what was going on inside your naughty little head. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t trust him. Nope. Neither as if you didn’t want for him to be the first man you’ve ever been with to know about your little secret. Nah. You were just scared, to be honest. 

'Cause he was easily the best thing in your life. Your whole world; the light in the darkest night. You never thought you actually could be this enamoured by someone until you met him. James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes. The Winter Soldier on the flesh and Captain America's best friend. And the love of your fucking life.

Ok, maybe you were more than just scared. Maybe you were terrified. 

Sex with Bucky was amazing. No, more than amazing: it made you transcend. But Bucky was a 40's man even though he tried his best to adapt to 21 century. He still was a man born and raised in 1940. And he naturally still had some assumptions and behaviors from that decade. And you had no fucking idea how a man from that age would react to you telling him you would like to call him "daddy" while he fucked you. 

And you didn't blame him for that. Far from it: you accepted Bucky as a full package, with every scar and flaw. With his past and ghosts. And if you had to control your deepest desires just a little not to make him uncomfortable, you would do it with a smile on your face.

As if it was that easy. 

You craved Bucky since day one. Since his built up, muscular figure walked through the Tower's door you just knew he was meant to be yours. He was just a sexual crush back then. Even though a little voice in the back of your head always told you that he wasn't just that. No. He was more. There was just something about the little glint hid in his cloudy eyes that fascinated you. That had you trapped. Since day one.

It didn't take more than a few words for you to know that he was the one. It was cheesy and almost ridiculous, I know. Even you kept telling yourself that you were just enchanted by him. It was just arousal, just a phase. You would get over it.

But you didn't. And what was just a tiny little crush became an huge liking you took for the sarge. Natasha was in shock when you told her about your - as she called - obsession for Bucky. She told you had gone insane; she thought it was some kind of fever, that you should probably get a break from missions or get laid. You knew him for what? Three months? You had spoke with him what? Twice? And about what? Missions?

How could your stupid ass possibly claim you were in love with the guy? 

Oh, but your stupid ass knew. It (you) just knew it was meant to be. He was meant to be.

So there was a day that you were suffering from a terrible insomnia and the idea of making yourself some tea just popped into your head. You got up, making your way straight to the kitching and when you found Bucky struggling to make the microwave work you knew it was the Universe sending you a sign.

You helped him, letting out some stupid joke about how for a man who had a metal arm on display he had no idea how to deal with metal stuff. It was a dumb, tired joke that you almost regret, automatically thinking that he could feel uneasy by your forwardness. Until he directed you a richful laugh that made your poor little heart skip a beat.

He was beautiful.

You both spend the rest of the night together, just talking bullshit and getting to know each other. It felt so natural. You learned that he  was fascinated by bikes and coincidently you had a Harley FXB Sturgis you proudly took care of. You told him you really enjoyed Glenn Miller and Jimmy Dorsey even though you never knew how to dance and he promised you he could teach you, if you allowed him.

After that each day was a different conquer. A different new fact about Bucky and you were just addict to it. What could you say? You guys just clicked. Before Bucky you never imagined you could feel so electrified to know something new about someone. It was like you were drowning your whole life, submerged, craving for something your lungs couldn't reach. Then came Bucky. And he was pure oxygen for your pained lungs.

So one thing led to another and when you blinked you guys were already a thing. More than a thing, you were a couple. And you couldn't fucking believe it. 

Fuck, you told Natasha you were right.

It didn't take long for you guys to fuck, the connection that pulled you together being away too strong for any of you to resist. And the sex was another thing with which you both clicked. Bucky liked to be dominant and possessive over you, and you just loved to please him.

But then your daddy kink kicked harder then ever and you didn't know what to do about it. Natasha - who was basically your sister - warned you it would be best for you to just tell him. That he would still love you. You knew it was kind of silly to think his feelings for you were fragile enough to break because of such a thing. But you were still scared. 

What could you do? Swallow your feelings and be the tough Avenger you were on the field? At least that was what Natasha told you to do. So you decided you should tell him, yes. Someday... Maybe... If it was really necessary.

No, you had to tell him. Before he found out by another way.

...

It was an ordinarily enough Saturday night. Tony was throwing an "we survived this time, may not survive the next so you better enjoy" party; Clint and Pietro were on a drink-or-die contest; Steve was doing it all day; Thor was laughing loudly enough to sound like sparkly thunders through the night; Loki was probably scheming; Bruce was... well, Bruceing; Nat and Wanda were betting who would pass out from drinking and how they would manage to drag Pietro to his room at this time of the night. The good ol' Avengers.

Oh, and Bucky was about to fuck you.

You two lovebirds couldn't just resist. Your dress was just too tight, fitting your gorgeous body away too nicely. And you knew Queen Catherine from France had so much lovers because she never saw Bucky on a suit. 'Cause dear God that was a sight.

So that leads us here: you already naked, legs spread widely when Bucky had just teared your thong apart, your poor Calvin Klein's thong being shattered into pieces. That wasn't such a loss though; you were sure your dripping core had ruined it already.

"Shit, doll. You are soaked." Bucky's husky voice told you while his pinky lips hovered over your whimpering pussy. "All that for me, hum?" He continued, his grip tightening on your inner thigh.

"Yes! Yes..." 

Daddy. 

You bit your tongue. "...Bucky." You meowed softly, your desire for call him daddy hitting you like a thunder.

"Yeah? So put that ass up in the air. Wanna see it while I make you cum." He demanded and you obeyed eagerly. Oh, if he just knew the things you would do for him...

"Look at that." He grabbed one of your ass cheeks roughly and you moaned at the suddenly contact of cool metal on your flaming skin. "My babe got such a pretty ass." He groaned, his fake thingers now teasing your wet hole.

"Tell me, (Y/N). Tell me who this pretty cunt belongs to." His fingers easily entered your pussy, pleasuring your insides.

You, daddy.

"You, Bucky." You speaked in a muffled tone not just by the mattress your face was currently buried in but also by your firm attempt to not let yourself go so much and end up saying something you shouldn't.

Bucky put one more finger into you, making it three, and pumped harder into your pussy.

"I'm sorry, doll, I guess i couldn't hear you since you are moaning so loudly." And you were. You could almost feel his cocky smirk ranging proudly on his handsome face. Although you couldn't care less with his fingers buried deeply inside you, beautifully flirting with your orgasm.

You daddy. I belong to you.

"You, Bucky. I belong to you." You said loudly this time, your voice dying on your throat at the end of the sentence. You couldn't say it, not now.

But Bucky didn't seem to get enough of you and the slap that hit your ass made you lose control from all your senses for a second.

"YOU, DADDY!" 

A tiny little second. 

Bucky stopped dead in his tracks. Did he hear you right? Daddy?

Oh dear God. Did you just say it? 

Did he hear you? Of course he did, asshat! You just screamed it out loud!

You started to debate which were the chances of the music outside being too loud for him to hear you (you were panicking as you can see). But when you felt his fingers getting away from your pussy you just knew he had.

God, you were screwed now. And not in a good way.

Your blurred brain quickly started to think about possibly excuses and explanations for the current situation. You were right between "I'm sorry, you shouldn't find out like this" and "hey there, as you noticed I have a daddy kink, please don't push me away because of this" when you felt Bucky's metal arm clench around the back of your neck, pinning you into the bed. Your arms were beside your head in a submitted state when he leaned in, whispering into your ear with the most lustful voice:

"Did I hear you right, babygirl?" His grip hardened and you feel his knee spreading your legs apart, leading you to wonder which would be the size of the poodle in the middle of them since this man was driving you completely insane.

"Tell me. How long have you been keeping this little secret from daddy?" Oh, dear.

He caressed your pussy again with his free hand and you lost it.

"I'm so sorry, daddy!" You moaned loudly, your voice sounding more acute then normal.

“And here I was thinking so good of you… Guess I was wrong, hum?” He seemed almost hurt if it wasn’t for the strong scent of lust and superb on his tone, showing off his intentions. 

“I’m so, so sorry, daddy…” You meowed one more time, hoping for him to forgive you. 

Bucky made a disapproving sound with a snap of his lips. You squirmed under him, anxious for more.

"No, babygirl. I am sorry." His grip left your neck and you felt empty all sudden. And guilty. As if you had really disappointed him.

But then his touch travelled through your back, his hand caressed the whole extension of it before landing into your ass cheek. He stopped for a moment, right before

"Because now that you have been a bad girl I will have to punish you."

a slap. A hard one. Harder than any other he had ever disfered into your body during sex. And you fucking loved it.

"Count for daddy, pretty girl. I wanna you to take ten." You moaned a yes before the second slap came.

"Two, daddy!"

Who would ever say James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes,

"Three, daddy!"

the Winter Soldier on the flesh and Captain America's best friend, and the love of your fucking life 

"Four, daddy!"

would love your daddy kink so fucking bad?

"FIVE, DADDY!" This one was harder, making your skin burn; the scream leaved your mouth without permission - a mix from all the pleasure, pain and suppressed desire that you had boiling into you.

"S-six, daddy!" Your eyes were wettering right now and you bit your lower lip not to sob a pained whimper, not from slaps but mostly from your aching core which Bucky had abandoned a while ago and now was crying for some of his attention.

"Can't take them all, babygirl? First you lie to me. Now you are being disobedient. I'm starting to think you don't want to be a good girl for daddy anymore." 

You could almost touch the fake disappointment in his voice.

"No! No, daddy! Please! I want to be good for you!" 

But you were in for it anyway. 

"So keep counting while daddy spank that tight little ass."

Another slap.

“Seven! Daddy!”

And other.

“Eight!” A moan. “Daddy!”

“N-nine,” Your voice softened as a tear dropped from the corner of your eye. “Daddy!”

“TEEN, DADDY!” 

And there you were: ass all burning pink, your pussy aching wet and tears streaming through the corner of your eyes. You swallowed the gulp on your throat when Bucky’s chest came near your back. You were in ecstasy.

“There she is. My good girl.” His voice sounded warm on your ears as his flesh fingers came to clean some tears from your beautiful face. 

“Was I good, daddy?” You purred when his touch leaved your sensitive skin, placing a gentle peck where his fingers once were.

“You were, babygirl. Now open those legs, daddy is gonna fuck that pussy nicely.”

You spread your legs as open as you could, trying to make Bucky proud. He fitted right into the middle of them, opening you up a bit more. Bucky took his hard cock into his hand and slipped into you smoothly, your wet cunt greeting him warmly. 

“God, you are always so tight for me, babygirl. Taking daddy’s cock so good…” He groaned after a few thrusts, making your pussy clench around him. You both moaned at that.

“You are just too big, daddy!” You moaned and you swear you heard an animalistic growl coming out from Bucky´s chest. Jesus Christ.

“Oh, yeah? But you love it, don’t you? Such a cockslut my babe is, squirming all around daddy’s cock.” Bucky pounded harder on you this time, your pussy struggling to fit his whole cock all at once. His words made you shiver and your orgasm started to show up.

Bucky seemed to feel it too and managed to go even deeper into your sore pussy, making a bunch of loud moans to leave your dirty little mouth. He was fucking you senseless and your couldn’t help but love it.

“Daddy!”

You moaned loudly into one deep thrust of his and the dirty laugh that left his mouth was nothing but unexpected. And hot as well.

“Wanna cum on daddy’s cock, babygirl?” You nodded eagerly, the knot on your belly being away too strong for you to stop it. “So you better ask for it.”

“Please, daddy! Please I wanna cum so bad!” 

He slapped your already bruised ass to that and you almost screamed if the pleasure he was giving you hadn’t cut your voice. His pace became sloppier although his thrusts were still hard enough to hurt, making you inevitably squirm under him while your high was getting closer and closer.

“So you better come, babygirl.”

And you did. Hard and almost painfully. Waves of pleasure washed your body as Bucky managed to reach his own reach, spreading his white cum all over your ass. You moaned as you felt his orgasm reaching your skin so warmly, the thought alone increasing your own climax.

Bucky pecked your shoulder sweetly, getting out of the room for what felt like an eternity. You were about to stand up and look for him when you felt something fluff cleaning your skin. The sarge had came back with a towel and was taking care of you while you melted to his touch. Such a gentleman he was.

You the leaned down; Bucky with his back to the mattress and a hand under his head while you curled your self, leaning into his broad chest. You started to make little silly drawings into his skin when you felt him clearing his throat. Your shining gaze met his beautiful face right before he spoke. 

“So…” He began softly, shifting his curious blue gaze to yours after he cleared his throat once again. “ A daddy kink?” And something on his away too eager tone told you he was up to learn more about it.

“Yeah…” You said almost shyly. “Did you like it?”

Bucky laughed at it and your heart died for an instant. 

“If I like it?” His voice sounded darker this time, dragging you in. Bucky moved on the mattress, bringing his enormous body upon yours, caging your naked, vulnerable body to the bed.

“Doll, I wanna hear every single thing you have to say about that.” His predatory gaze met yours and he bit his pink lips, making that eager sensation on your low belly starting to rise all over again.

It was going to be a Hell of a night.

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tried to make this one more into (Y/N)’s perspective. what did you guys think about it?

#my boi bonky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes is away too precious to be a human being #im 104% he is a dog #or a cinnamon roll #maybe both omg #anyways #i love that dude #really #marvel #avengers #mcu #bucky smut #bucky fluff #bucky angst #why do i keep falling in love for fictional people? #i guess we will never know #im still asking myself if you guys ready this #probably not #im brazilian #and i dont like bubble tea #tried it today though #it sucks #sorry guys #my therapist is taking a break #*silently scream in dispair*

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

ohh my god! thanks so much darling :3

Bucky Barnes x Reader fic writers on Tumblr: List 9/?

Previous lists: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8.

@theycallmebucky

@thorfanficwriter

@buckywhiitewolf

@fafulous

@buckysgirls-stuff

@kinkylittlebastardsuniverse

@kentuckybarnes

@honeybucks

@baroquebucky

@beccaanne814

@cametobuyplums

@captain-rogers-beard

@captainrogerss

@chillingbucky

@vibraniumwitch

As always, happy reading and message me with your recommendations! Don’t forget I suss out my stuff too; I’ve just posted part 2 of A Toast to Whiskey (it’s accidentally 10,000 instead of 3,000 like planned). xo Rhi

#writers #should #suport #each #other

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

golden sand and summer skies.

warnings! NSFW (you know the drill); unprotected sex (u s e p r o t e c  t i o n); oral sex (female receiving); angry stevie; but also crazy in love stevie; a lot of mentions of violence; i believe my whore-self trying to write fluff must be a warning; steve being a bit of a jerk; y/n being a bit of a jerk; everyone is a bit of a jerk, don’t judge them.

you know you need to be over 18 to be reading this. i’m watching you.

words! who knows? i’m guessing a number between 8779 and 8781

this is a steve rogers x fem!reader. sadly it’s pretty much fictional.

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Saying that you and Captain Rogers didn't understand each other was an understatement. 'Cause you both practically hated each other.

It all started with stupid little things. "Not Avenger-like" behavior here, a scolding look there. A little morning moodiness on your part, his extravagant moralistic behavior on the other. Your - maybe a little too sour - sarcasm, and that damn fetish of his to always be right (even when he clearly wasn't).

Little, silly things that - one by one - came together and became an enormous big thing almost unbearable for every poor soul that surrounded you guys. Yes, the whole Tower knew about your little Caps issue, as much as they knew about his... resistence against you. It was almost like a silent rule: do not, under any circumstances, leave (Y/N) and Steve in the same room any longer than necessary. And, well, they tried their best not to get in the middle of yours not-so-innocent arguments. Unless you both tried to kill each other. Literally, I mean. Which may have happened - oddly enough - once or twice, much to the Golden Boy's shame.

Steve hated - no, he despised - the fact that he had already been in a real fight with you. Twice. The first time, you had punched him right on the face before he accidentally called you a freak. As an immediate but asshole response he pressed you against the wall, his strong, bloody hands on your neck. But you didn’t seem to be scared at all by his animalistic gaze and enormous stature. He thought he saw you smirking that day. But he couldn’t confirm his hypothesis; you were both separated right after. 

The second time was more shameful for him. For he was the one who started it. You were both word-punching each other for a while when you told something that crossed his heart like the sharpest of the knives.

"I bet Peggy was actually relieved when you fell on the ice. I know I would be." and he swears to God that he saw venom dripping from your mouth at that moment. It was a big jerk move on your part, but still didn't gave him the right to strike a strong slap right into your face the way he did. And, despite the strength he used, you remained still, only your face turned to the opposite side to where his hand had came from. And when you turned to face him there was blood on your lips, making them redder than usual. You licked them - slow and wetly - savouring both your taste and Steve's shame. You smirked and he couldn't find the words to apologize even though he knew he should. So you kicked him in a quick motion, sending him through the room until the next wall. It made a stupid loud sound and the wall's material turned into a hole where Steve's body had landed dull to your strength. 

He thought he got an concussion that day, for him swore he saw a lonely tear stream down your angelic face. After a few medical check ups - Natasha insisted he needed them - he found out he did not get a concussion, but he also couldn't confirm if that lonely tear was real or just his imagination because you turned away and left before he could even blink.

So it wasn't like you couldn't stand him in a fight, you were as strong as him. And fast. And you knew combat techniques that he himself had never even heard of. It was fascinating, to be honest. You were fascinating. The result of a Hydra experiment that was aborted precisely because it was too much, and I quote, insolently. You could not be described as anything less than spectacular.

You were a soldier like Steve and Bucky, reported dead in one of the America’s troops against Vietnam. Only you weren't dead at all. No. Hydra did the favor disfavor of taking you off the battlefield, giving you an asylum you couldn't get away from, keeping you against your will - which, in my country, we often call “kidnapping”. So a training here, brainwashing there, a bit of cryo and voi-freaking-là: "you were born", the top of the list of the best (if you can use "best" in such a fucked up context) killers the world had ever seen.

And you were a successful project. Performing missions in record time, you were agile and objective, executing your targets in cold blood. Until things started to unravel. You started to break orders. Challenge superiors, contradict missions. And they knew that losing you would be too dangerous. And here between us, they also knew that you could easily get away if you wanted to. You just didn't know this was what you wanted.

Then came cryo. Years and years frozen. "Sleeping". Apart from the fact that you were not sleeping. Cryogenesis is a very uncertain science and some, like you, maintained a certain degree of conscious while sleeping. Not much, but enough to remember why you were put there. Enough to remind you that you didn’t want to stay there anymore. As if you ever had in the first place. 

After a while, they thawed you. And the bewildered confusion they had hoped to find had been replaced by anger and a determination to get out of that damn place. It doesn't take a genius to find out that you ran away. Leaving a dark past and a pile of bodies along the way.

With your hands still bloody, you drifted away from the base which you found out - surprisingly - was on a small lost island among so many in Central America. The island was small, damp and hot, nothing like the dry cold of so many other bases on which you had been. Had lived in.

Today you don't remember exactly how you left that place. You remember the confusion. You remember the scorching Sun burning your skin. You remember walking a lot - which seemed to be miles and miles of pure scratching, golden sand. And you remember, above all, a lady with features strange to yours. Sweet voice and sweeter gestures. You remember a huge warm sensation in your chest, an overwhelming sensation, like a volcano exploding in where sould be your heart. You learned later that it was gratitude.

Marta was her name. She’s still alive. Living hers peaceful, joyful life still on that same island. With her grandchildren and dogs (she had a lot of them). She always calls, like your mother would do if she was still alive. You would like to visit her more often, which being an Avenger ended up proving this wish of yours was very hard to come true, but you will always be grateful to her from the bottom of your cryogenic heart. 

Anyway, back to you and Captain Golden Stars. 

You hated him. 

Him and his golden ethics and golden morals. And his golden hair as well. 

You hated how unbelievably annoying he could be when he reviewed the plan for the 17th time just to be sure everything got the exactly same path he wanted it to go. You hated even more how, even though you just wanted to throw him out through the window and get the mission done, your body couldn’t manage to not pay attention while he talked, his voice being away too calming; almost like a drug made just for you. 

You hated how he always wanted to be the smartest man in the room, never listening to anyone’s ideas - actually, just yours - his ego being away too fragile for anyone to come and disagree with him. It seemed like he held something against you since the beginning. You remembered the first mission you joined them. It was a simply get in - get info - get out; every day’s business. And he had that insane jump-inside-and-break-in-like-that-guy-from-Impossible-Mission kind of plan and you couldn’t help but disagree. Everyone supported your - clearly better - idea. Everyone but him, who decided it would be best to just scowl to you for the rest of the week. And you? Well you just wanted to help (you also hated that there was a huge tiny part of you that screamed that you wanted to impress him most of all). 

You hated his “know-it-all” attitude as well. How he always looked at you during an argument like you were some little kid that didn’t deserve to be heard. Even when you were right. You hated how his ego was bigger than his shield and how he could so easily piss you off. And the knowing look he would give you when he had pissed you off. Like he had done it on purpose. Like he liked to see you on the edge. That bitch. 

You hated how insanely obsessed he was with the US army, since you were one and went to Hell and back for a Government that - you realized - didn’t give a shit  about you or how you ended up in a fascist organization that destroyed your life. You hated that he seemed to adore something that hurt you so badly.

You hated the way he had his coffee. You always loved coffee. It was such a pure, heavenly creation you could not understand how he could drink such a sweet coffee. With half a cup of milk, a bit of cream, cinnamon and precisely one and a half teaspoon of chocolate in powder. Like a cappuccino, but in a Steve Rogers kind of way. 

You also could not associate with the fact that he prefered cake over pie because pie was obviously better. 

You hated how madly meticulous he was, the way he separated his clothes through colors degrees’ and how the kitchen’s cabinets were always millimeter organized ‘cause his controlling-freak persona couldn’t stand the Cheerios’ box standing after the Orio’s one since it would destroy his so precious alphabetic order. You still remember the day you accidentally put the sugar pot before the flour one and that brat almost kicked you out of the team for that. 

You hated how blue his eyes were and how they reminded you of summer skies and caribbean seas, everything you were privated from during those Hydra days. You hated the calm they bringed you and you despised the way you imagined how they would look like - bluer, brighter, sweeter - in the morning after a long, tiring night. You hated how those same blue eyes shined the brighter light when he got some XXI century’s reference or when some kid would excitedly greet him on the street, telling him he was their favorite superhero. There was a day, right after Ultron, right after you joined the team. The Avengers were being scoffed and you just knew that was getting Steve’s best side ‘cause the Avengers were his family, his only support even with all the flaws. And there were people trying to destroy it. So this boy showed up on a morning run and hugged his leg, looked at the man with smooth eyes and told him how much of a hero he was. You were running this day as well, so you could see from afar how he picked the kid up and told the boy the real hero was him, the little brunette. You hated how you replied this scene on your head time after time, never being able to forget how brightly his eyes shone that day. Like a supernova. And, now, everytime you looked at the night sky and admired the stars you would remember him. You hated that it felt like you were admiring him as well.

You hated how his musky, gorgeous scent would always tell you when he was getting close because of how unmissable it was, and you hated how - even sweat and dirty and bloody from missions - that damn essence would always remain untouched, beating the others smells. Like, seriously, every damn time you guys would practice together - not even touching each other, just staying on the same goddamn room - his scent would just stuck into your clothes, your skin, your soul. Like a fucking disease. It drove you mad to smell like him. ‘Cause it made you feel like you were his. It drove you mad ‘cause you liked the idea of belonging to him. 

You hated his brooklyn accent and how it remembered you from home, even though yours itself was long gone. You hated his 40s’ references and how you found them adorable. You hated his perfect taste in music and you hated even more that his room was besides yours so you would always listen to whatever he was playing in his room. You hated how - sometimes - he moved around in his room at night; walking, pacing, moving around even in the latest hours of the night, waking you up. You hated even more that you couldn’t stop wondering what got  him so anxious; if you could help him; or how it would be like to be in his room right now.

You hated his proud, good boy smile and how it shone brighter than the Sun. You hated the too-perfect-always-perfect energy state he was so known for. And you hated how you felt, knew it was just a shell. An effective one, but still just a shell.  You actually hated how much of a good guy he seemed to be and how anyone could see that dark little side of his that was hidden in the back of his good-morals gaze. Anyone but you. How only you could see it? The lost boy hiding on his gaze, calling for help, calling you in. And you hated, despised how badly you actually wanted to help him. 

But what you hated most about Steve Grant Rogers was that you didn’t hate him. Not really, not at all. 

...

Steve had given you strict orders on this mission. It was simple though: break in, clean the perimeter with him, take the info and then netflix with Sam and Bucky. For you, at least. Since Mr. Golden Shield would probably stuck his boring ass on some work out or mission reports as usual. He would complain about your behavior - as always - and everyone would go home. Happy ever after.

If there wasn't twice as agents as you guys had previously expected. If there wasn't still a bunch of info downloading when 15 of those same agents started to bring down the room's door you were in. If you hadn't disobeyed Steve's orders to stay down while he came to your rescue while the agents kept trying to break the fucking door. If you weren't such a stubborn little thing, refusing Steve's stupid idea to be your knight in the shining armor. If you hadn't been a little bit too slow and almost got shot. If it wasn't for Captain America himself saving your ass.

The moment you felt the cold presence of a gun near your back you knew you fucked up. But when you heard the metalic sound of his shield breaking the man's head in two you knew you were dead. And probably buried as well.

You guys looked at each other and you just wished you had got that fucking bullet in the middle of your fucking brain. Because his gaze was burning into your flesh more than a shotgun ever would. 

Then he left. Leaving you, a pile of bodies and blood through his way. You felt a pain on your chest that was almost unbearable to take. And the adrenaline started to slow down on your blood so you felt the fear of dying hitting you like a real bullet. 

But you had to rebuild yourself. Because the computer behind you beeped, proudly announcing the download was over, so you could also leave now and go straight home. Where Steve would probably eat you alive.

…

The journey to the Tower can be described as, at least, exhausting. The atmosphere between you two was heavier than steel. Perhaps it would have been less unbearable if Steve hadn't had the brilliant idea of ​​dismissing the other agents - who came with you to the mission - sending them away with the backup group. So it was just you and him. He and you. And the silence was almost suffocating.

What the Hell happened to “do not, under any circumstances, leave (Y/N) and Steve in the same room any longer than necessary” ? ‘Cause you weren’t seeing Tony’s cautious gaze or Natasha’s body warm separating the two of you right now.

And Steve simply refused to look at you. How could he, afterall? When he had saw you almost die just a few minutes ago.

He was furious. Steamy. Hateful even. 

How could you be so fucking stupid?

What if he wasn't there on time? 

Ok, you are a super soldier. A good, almost invincible one. But you are not a god, neither an immortal. You were human just as him was. And you bleeded just as him did. 

For God's sake! How in the fucking fuck could you let the situation come this far? Why were you so irresponsible? Why didn't you just wait for him? Why is your ego bigger than his own shield?

Fuck. 

Steve hated you.

He hated how stubborn you were, how your body seemed biologically incapable to follow any rules and how you always - always - had some sassy remark on the tip of your tongue, ready to come out.

He hated how fucking smart you were, how you could always outsmart him in every subject and how you seemed to always have a better plan than his ready to go. 

He hated that cocky smirk of yours, the one you always had proudly hanging out on your face while you both were arguing, as if it told him that you knew you were pissing him off. And you seemed to love it.

He hated that you were once on the army because they fucked up your life and now he couldn’t find the place in his heart to adore the US army like he used to. 

He hated coffee. He kind of always did. He thought it was too bitter, like a punch on the jaw, and he hated that, now that he had meet you, every time he sees or smells the strong scent of coffee his memory naturally travels to you. He hated that he started to drink coffee just after he met you.

He hated how obsessed with food you were. Like, cake, pie, whatever. Isn’t they the same? Ugh. 

He hated how much of a displicent little thing you were. I mean, you were a soldier. A super soldier. Yet, your mind seemed incapable to seize that red and white clothes should not be put together during the laundry on hot water. All your white t-shirts, tank tops and panties were pink now. And you seemed unable to keep a minimum organization while on a mission. You guys went on a stay-and-collect-info undercovered mission once. With Bucky, ofcourse. Steve had to organize your stuff himself since the amount of clothes ranging in the corner of the room had pissed him off since day one. God, he couldn’t even imagine how your bedroom must look like.

He hated the way you smiled and laughed. The way your happiness would always reach your eyes when you smiled carefree, or the way your laughter would outburst the other sounds in the room so easily ‘cause it was so happy and genuine it was impossible not to be taken away by it. He hated how, when you faked it, your smile wouldn’t be able to reach those beautiful eyes of yours, showing off a slight glint of pain in them, especially when someone talked about something that reminded you of your past. 

He hated how smooth your hair always seemed to be - even if you were all sweat and bloody and dirty. He remembered once both of you were scaled to a mission and you were knocked out by some stupid enough Hydra agent. Steve was deliriously mad. He killed the guy right at the instant he saw your body starting to go limp. He then held you in his arms and got back to the queen jet. He laid you down, your head on his lap and he could feel your hair. It was so soft, even through his gloves. Maybe it was like a superpower, how unbelievable perfect your locks would always fall around your face, framing it like a damn DaVinci’s paint. How it shone when you moved and that damn cocoa shampoo seemed to stick everywhere when you got out of the shower. Like, really, he could tell when you walked away from a bath because your damn shampoo would travel to his nose no matter where he was.

He hated the way you spoke: with sour words and bitter tone, something he supposed you acquired over time. He hated the superb load your speech usually carried, always implying that you knew better. He hated even more the fact that he sometimes found himself wondering how that bossy tone of yours would change to a pleading one as he fucked you roughly. 

He hated the dead look you always seemed to have in store for him, just waiting to be used. He hated how he hated it, actually. As if he craved for you to feel something for him. As if nothing coming from you killed him inside. He hated that he would rather for you to hate him than for him to be irrelevant for you. 

He hated your humming and how you would always do it when you were both too distracted or too concentrated. It was always the same song, a lullaby he presumed. One your mother used to sing to you, maybe. He hated how deeply he wanted to know more about that damn humming - or about you in general - and how it became a habit of his to go to sleep replaying your soft voice humming that lullaby to his ear.

He hated your mysterious look and tough girl facade. He hated how your remarks would always sound so acid through such a sweet, melodic voice and how your eyes would always hold so much pain on them. He hated that terrible habit of yours to shut yourself from people, staying away from their real reach. He hated that everyone thought of you as such a well resolved person. Everyone but him. He hated how he was the only one who could see the frightened little girl shining behind the shadow of the powerful, lonely wolf kind of woman you seemed to be. And he hated, despised that it dragged him in.

But what Steve Grant Rogers hated most about you was that he didn’t hated you. Not really, not at all. 

...

“I fucking told you to stick to the plan.” His angry voice cut through the air like a knife. Knocking you down in an almost catatonic state. For you really didn’t expect him to follow you. Not into your room. Not at 2 am when none but you two were awake.

The moment the queen jet landed you hurried yourself to get into your room - your safe place - as fast as possible. Successfully ignoring Steve’s heavy steps right behind you, naively imaging he didn’t want to see your dead-girl-walking face at the moment. Such an innocent assumption. 

So when his steamy persona showed up at your door, hatefully shutting the poor thing with so much force you actually thought it would get stuck into the wall, we could say you were at least surprised. 

“Language.” You mocked acidly, not being biologically able to back down from an argument with Mr. Golden Hair, even though you were tired as hell. 

You kept your night routine as if he wasn’t there. Like when you are a little kid and hear some strange noise through the window; even though you are scared as hell, you just keep saying to yourself that if you ignore it good enough it will go away. That was what you were doing. 

So you kept your back turned to him - since he got into your room right after you - and unzipped the front of your combat suit, the humming of the zipper and Steve’s heavy breath being the only sounds to be heard in the enormous room. You let the upper side of the suit fall around your waist, leaving you on nothing but a pair of pinkish sports bra (which used to be white before you put them to wash with red clothes). You sighed, enjoying the brief pleasure of freedom before you remembered the Devil himself was behind you, ready to pick up a fight. 

“Why are you always such a brat?!” His tone was stern and steamy; almost demanding. You could feel his rage boiling through his voice, which was tougher than usual, even though you guys argue a lot. It was different this time. 

You turned around to face his flaming face and pierce through his blue orbs. You thought you would see the used pissed off veil covering them. You thought you guys would argue, wake up the team and then go to sleep angry with each other. The same drill it have been for ages. 

But, just like the mission, things didn’t go as you expected them to.

‘Cause when your gaze met his, you swore you heard your heart cracking, the bitter taste of fear invading - uninvited- your mouth. Your expression was the same though, your training being just too good to let you fail now. So he couldn’t smell your fear from where he standed. Or so you hoped. 

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.” You shot back, smirking cockily at him, never tearing your mischievous gaze from his hateful one. You just couldn’t let yourself be intimidated by him. Not now; nor ever. 

He got closer, his scent blowing your mind now. Intoxicating your system. Like a venom which the antidote wasn’t at your reach.

You instinctively tensed up your body, inflating your chest and tensing your jaw, an dominant, defensive behavior you naturally got thanks to those beautiful, sunny days on Hydra. 

His gaze was penetrating, almost like a thousand needles piercing through your skin. You gulped suddenly feeling the room was too hot for your liking. You felt goosebumps at your belly and you couldn’t decide if you liked the sensation or not. Wait, were you getting wet?

“Fucking Hell! You are unbelievable! Damn Tony and his ridiculous idea to bring you into this shit!” His voice was loud now and you bite your tongue not to kick him through the room right now, considering he was as strong as you and it wouldn’t be the best of the ideas. 

“Are you done with your show? I’d really like some sleeping time right now. Five hours in a row with you were enough for a day.” You bitterly said, crossing your arms on your chest and arching an eyebrow, sending him the best “fuck you” look you could manage. 

Steve looked at you like he couldn’t believe you. And he actually couldn’t. He felt his blood boil and his hand closed into fists, him trying his best to contain his anger. But you were impossible. There was something about you… Something that always seemed to get the best of him. It was like the Devil himself had made you to tempt him. To send him into the darkness. ‘Cause no matter what he desired to do with you, it was either sin or sin. No good ways, no good choices. Just luxury and anger. Flesh and blood. Red and red. And he had no idea how he could possibly manage that. 

And then he was pressing you against the wall. It was just too fast. Neither of you could actually process his move right away, taking you two or three seconds to react. 

“What now? Are you going to try and choke me again, Stevie? ‘Cause I won’t be nice with you this time.” Like the Serpent itself you’re words slipped until his ears, taking an involuntary animalistic sound from him. The kind of sound you wouldn’t expect the Golden Boy to make even in his darkest moments. And it made you clench your thighs together to think which other delirious sounds you could take from him. 

Choke you? That didn’t sound like such a bad idea. 

Steve looked at you like a predator, a killer. His baby-blue, angelic iris opened space for darken ones. Full of the darkest emotions. Anger. Luxury. Hunger. 

He looked at you as if he was deciding to either kill you or eat you. And you didn’t know why it almost made you moan. 

His breath was getting heavier, both his hands and jaw clenched in rage. His red eyes moved away though your body, landing on your sweat cleavage. The sports bra smashed your breasts together, popping them out for him to see. And what a beautiful view it was. Your sweat, hot skin on display for him and just for him to see.

He wondered how it would feel to taste your skin. Travel around with his tongue and lips though your whole body, savoring all your different parts, all your different tastes. That would be wonderful. 

Your heartbeat quickened, he could tell. For your heart was beating so strongly he could see the flesh of your left breast pumping slightly. He wanted to bite it. Leave a mark. Feel your pulse through his teeth. 

Your heart. He craved it. 

His arms were around your face, his forearms glued on the wall, caging you to him. Your curious, yet cautious look traveled to his pinky lips. They were a bit swollen from his own biting and chewing through the whole mission - you supposed - and there was a reddish bruise on them. You wondered how they would feel on your pussy, sucking you, pleasing you. You bet he would be good. 

And then he backed up. You were disappointed, honestly, but not surprised. He had his polish good boy image to keep, after all. 

You laughed to his action, getting away from the wall. You wouldn’t admit but part of you wished he had gone further. Part of you wanted him to desire you back. 

And then he said it. 

He said what everyone thought it was true. 

He said what he repeated to himself

 over 

and over 

and over again,

just to get away with the constant thoughts of you.

He said what you repeated to yourself 

over 

and over 

and over again,

just to not get too lost in those thoughts off him you couldn’t stop yourself from having. 

He said what, deep down, he always knew that was a lie. 

But he said it anyway. Through gritted teeth, as anger swallowed his words he said:

“GOD, I FUCKING HATE YOU.”

Did him, though?

“I FUCKING HATE YOU MORE.”

Did you, though? 

“GOOD.”

He wasn’t so certain anymore.

“GOOD.”

Neither were you. 

And you kissed. 

It happened in a blur so you couldn’t exactly pinpoint who kissed who first, not that it mattered much right now. The kiss was bruising, possessive. It felt like fire caressing your lips and you could swore you felt electricity ran through your whole body. 

And you were pressed through the wall. Again. But he pressed you harder this time, his moves being almost violent on your soft skin. You didn’t mind though. It felt warmer everywhere he touched. 

When your back hit the wall you let out a soft hiss through the kiss. It hurt, the force he used being too much more than the necessary. But God did you like his roughness. 

‘Cause only the thought of him, Captain America, America’s Golden Boy, pressing you against the wall of your room, kissing you so desperately, so bruisely already had you moaning in pleasure. 

God, you hated him. 

Your hungry hands were wrapped around his neck, pulling his hair and scratching his nape with - maybe a little too much - force. Steve moaned on your mouth and you knew it was the most beautiful sound you had even heard. You knew you wouldn’t be able to live without it now that you had a taste. 

Hated him for having you wrapped around his finger so easily. 

Your hands travelled around his body now, just as much as his were doing as well. But you were just too eager now. His kiss was driving you insane. Both of you had an enormous ego, not giving up on the kiss’ dominance for any second; so that passion fight kept going on and on, none of you giving in. And your eager hand went to his suit pants, trying to palm his hard dick. 

Trying. Because Steve didn’t let you. He grasped your wrist with such a force you actually thought he was going to break it. 

“Not today, princess.” He said in a low, predatory tone right above your ear. It had made shivers ran around your spine like a lightning coming out of the sky: electric, terrifying and yet so fucking beautiful. 

With his grip still tight on your wrist, he went for your neck. Biting and licking and sucking all the flesh he could reach. It made you a moaning mess in less then a second. 

He put your hand aside, kneeling down in front of you. And while he did, his touches never leaves your body. He kept touching you, kissing you, licking every part of your skin. He left his marks everywhere, as if he was claiming you as his. And something - maybe that thought, maybe his wet lips hovering over your sensitive skin - made you moan. Loudly. And you closed your eyes in pleasure, caressing the back of his neck, gripping a hand full of his golden locks in despair. 

You needed him. 

Steve torned your suit apart. Your combat suit. That was supposed to resist a lot of things. But of course Tony hadn’t predicted to protect your poor vests from an super soldier’s arousal. He should have, thought. Maybe you would pinpoint that to him latter. 

“Fucking Hell, Steve!” You moaned/screamed when he bite your inner thigh roughly, and you knew would be lucky if this special bruise healed in less than a week (lets just remember here you do have exalted healing). 

He gave you an mischievous, cocky smile and his look pierced through yours when he licked your  sore skin, leaving little butterfly kisses thought the whole place right after. You moaned at this. God, he was so fucking irresistible. And such a tease. 

“Sorry, beautiful.” You knew he wasn’t. 

Then he started to play with the rem of your pinkish panties (they used to be white as well). The puddle on the middle of your thighs was simply undeniable. And Steve groaned to the sigh of you so wet for him. Just for him. 

He wished he could spread your legs on the mattress right now. Taste you while he had the most precious view of your sweet pussy. But something about eating you out through a wall made him harder than ever. He thought about your tremble legs and how you would have no choice but to support yourself on him while you came into his mouth. And he wondered if he could make you literally fall for him. 

His imagination enlightened something in him, so he took your pants from your body in a swift motion, turning them into nothing but a ripped piece of fabric. You gasped in ecstasy and Steve licked his lips, admiring your naked figure. Ok, almost naked figure. You still had that bra on. 

As if you could read this mind, you get yourself off the bra, probably trying to spare it from Steve’s impatient hands. He smiled proudly before teasing your skin once more. You naturally separated your legs, giving him room to fit between them. 

Steve kept delivering open mouthed kisses all around your lower region. I mean, everywhere but where you wanted him to. That prick. 

You bucked your hips to the front, trying to put his mouth where you wanted him to. But Steve was faster and pinned you back into the wall. You let out a frustrated sigh and pouted your swollen lips in protest. 

The blonde laughed, amused by your eager behave and licked a long, wet strip of your flesh, right on your v-line. You gasped and pulled his hair with more force than ever. He groaned in response, sucking your skin and using the hand that rested on your hip to grip your ass roughly. 

You moaned, closing your eyes between pain and pleasure. Steve took the opportunity to attack your lower lips. And you gasped between the moan, all the sair leaving your lungs as you ache in pleasure. 

And you were so wet Steve actually felt like he was drowning into you. Not that he minded though. And you were away sweeter than he could ever dream of. You were just delicious and he couldn’t possible imagine himself getting enough of you. 

God, he hated you. 

He licked a long strip of your sweet, sweet cunt and you moaned his name in such a gorgeous away it had him on his knees for you (not only like that, you perv). He couldn’t resist but look up, trying to capture you. 

And you were just so fucking beautiful. Moaning for him, all sweat and wet, bucking your hips into his mouth (even though he kept pinning them back into the wall), nipples hard and chest panting. You were a goddess.

He hated you for having him wrapped around your finger so easily. 

And Steve couldn’t help moan himself with his mouth still on your pussy, sending vibrations that had you pushed to the edge. You moaned his name once more, your voice sounding almost pleading this time, as if you were begging something for him but couldn’t quite formulate the right sentence. And he loved it. 

He then picked your left leg, tossing it up his shoulder and hurried himself to insert one two digits into your tight core. You breathed out a hitch sound, surprised at how good he felt inside you. Just his fingers. 

He took his time to kiss the inner side of your left leg, pecking the flesh with such a passion you almost felt like he really cared about you. You tossed the thoughts away, not wanting to get too self conscious, and focused on the feeling of his calloused fingers pressed into you, hitting just the right spots.

The moment his hot mouth came back to your core you lost it. And you came without a warning but with a scream of his name and some curses as well. Your whole body went limp, your legs trembled and you felt like if it wasn’t for Steve still pressing you to the wall you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself up. 

You shivered when he gave your pussy one last lick, taking his time on your sensitive clit. You were just there, enjoying your orgasm while he climbed back up, towering over you once more. His lips came to yours, softer this time. It was particularly different: slower, full of passion, full of needy; and it tasted like you. 

You hate him. You hate him. You hate him. 

You repeat to yourself helplessly during the kiss. You could not get soft because of him. 

Steve seemed to feel your low energy and managed to pick you up in one fast motion. When you realized you were already on his shoulder, your ass hanging up in the air right next to his head. You let your a swallowed breath as in a surprise sign. 

He made his way to your bed as if he was already familiar to the place. Steve bit one of your ass’ checks and slapped the other, both of his actions strongly enough to make you squirm on his arms. He tossed you to the bed then, playfully but far from gently. 

He hurried himself up to get of that damn suit, those damn zippers giving him a hard time. But there he was: no suit and no boxers anymore, all naked and free for you to take him. 

He lost his gaze through your body once more, from a different perspective now. He traveled through your curves, your details. He saw scars and marks that life itself had gave you, mesmerized by how they fitted into your skin just like a masterpiece; with rough and brownish edges, maybe, but still. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. 

He crawled up to you then. Or he tried at least, since you lifted one of your beautiful legs and rested one foot in the middle of his broad chest. He looked down to your feet and then to your eyes. And when he saw those beautiful, playful eyes looking at him so needy he knew you were up to something. 

You got up then, kneeling in front of him and pecking his curious, pinky lips. His gaze was locked into you as if you were the best movie he had ever seen and he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was hypnotized by you. 

He hates you. He hates you. He hates you. 

His brain screamed in an sadly attempt to keep him sane. But how could he when he had craved you for so long without even realizing it? And now that he did it was like all those years of bottled up feeling punched him right into his stomach. He had no choice but to give in. 

You pushed him to the bed, laying him down. And then you crawled over him, straddling his lap as if you knew his body better then him himself. 

He moaned at the sign of your hot core so near his dick and the thoughts of how it would feel like inside you kept popping up in his mind.

“Sorry Cap, but i’m done with you telling me what to do.” Your sweet voice made its way to his ears and he didn’t know how to escape your spell anymore. God, he didn’t even know if he wants to escape. 

You were going to be the death of him. 

Your soft hands grabbed his dick while your lips flew into his to swallow the groan he had just let out. You let him sink into you while your lips where still together and he just wanted so bad that it meant something. 

You both moaned to the sensation of his dick burying deep inside you. God, he was so big. You kind of already expected him to be. But, for fuck’s sake, he was tearing you apart. 

“Oh my God, Steve!” You moaned; although it sounded almost like a beg. He groaned in response.

You placed a soft hand on his chest, feeling his pleasant purrs vibrating through his flesh. 

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me.” He breathed out with his eyes closed when you started to move your hips, straddling him.

You moaned, enjoying the feelings his delicious cock bringed to you. 

You quickened the pace, rocking your hips faster and harder on his cock and you both couldn’t stop the festival of moan and curses and groans that escaped both your mouths.

What can I say? You were both made for each other. 

“Look at you.” He breathed out, his words coming out through gritted teeth. “So beautiful, fucking yourself on my cock.”

“Jesus Christ!” You moaned, breathless. He had such a dirty mouth. 

“Not the name I want to hear, gorgeous.” He joked while you kept riding him, driving you both into your respective orgasms.

His enormous hands were on your hips, helping you out with a bruising grip. You just knew you would be all purple and pink tomorrow. 

You let out a silent scream when his cock hit one certain point deep into your pussy. He took the chance to change the position, him being the one on top now. Such a control freak. 

Your back hit the mattress with a certain strength. You would have complained but Steve’s lips where on yours and you suddenly forgot your one name. God, he was such a good kisser. 

He turned you around then, your chest on the bed and ass on the air, beautifully exposed to him. Steve separated your legs slightly, having a golden view of your sore pussy. You groaned when the cold air hit your core, causing your whole body to shiver.

“Look at that. Such a beautiful view.” He said while caressing your ass’ cheeks. You couldn’t help but crave his cock inside you.

Steve managed to grab both your arms and lock them on your back with on of his hands. You moaned at this, loving the sensation of being held by him. 

And then, a slap. 

A hard one, that got your breath out of your lungs and you hissed instantly. 

“Gonna make that ass all pink.”

Two more slaps had your pussy even more wet. On the fourth he entered you without a warning and you couldn’t contain the scream that escaped your lips

“Steve!” 

And you were moaning over and over again. Steve kept pounding into you with fast, strong moves. And you didn’t know how but with thrust of his he seemed to bury his cock deeper and deeper inside you. 

Another slap and you could feel the shape of his hand burning into your flesh. Deliciously. 

“God, always knew you would make the prettiest sounds, princess.” He kept your arms trapped on your back so you couldn’t move. Or you could, but just didn’t want to. It doesn’t matter. 

“I wanna know how you will sound when you come on my cock.” Another slap and you reared your ass higher, giving him room to go deeper, rougher; to do whatever he wanted with you. Showing him that you were loving it.

“Fuck, Steve. You feel so good, babe.” You meowed to him, away too lost in your pleasure to take note of the “babe” you just let out.

But Steve did notice. And, for some odd reason, it turned him on even more. His cock twitched inside you and your pussy immediately aches to the feeling, clenching around him. You were about to come. 

Steve hurried you and got out of you. He wanted to look at your face while you came for him. 

So he turned you around before you could say anything and smashed himself inside on you once again.

He had already imagined it once or twice, but the real thing, oh, the real thing was so much better. He just knew it.

His hard cock slammed back into you and you arched your body, contorcing in pleasure. Steve layed up on you, stealing your lips with his, devouring all the little sound you made. 

Now, that kiss was something. It was breath taken, but not in a rough kind of way. To be quite honest, it wasn’t even in a sexual kind of away. It was sloppy, a bit hurried since you were both on the edge of your orgasms. But it was soft, almost sweet. You imagined that's how a first kiss with someone you are in love with must feel. You don’t remember yours, but you knew deep down it couldn’t possibly be better than this memory you were creating with Steve now.

“Steve… I-I’m close.” You meowed, digging your nail into his scalp and shoulder. “So close, babe. I’m gonna cum.” You tilted your head back, arching your body in ecstasy. Your pleasured face made Steve himself get closer to his orgasm.

And when he felt your pussy tighten around him, your face silently screaming his name while you came undone on his cock made him lost it. His orgasm came as well.

“Fuck! (Y/N)!”

His eyes were closed while he cumed into you. And you both couldn’t relate the last time you felt so connected to someone.

You two came back from your respective highs and Steve pressed his forehead into yours, throwing his proudly little ego through the window. Lying to himself, to others, to you… It was all just so hard. And meaningless. Since you would still be his first thought in the morning and the last one before he go to sleep. So what was the point in almost killing himself to stay so far away from you?

And thank God he made such a decision, because it gave you the affirmation you need to make yours as well. 

“Stay?” Your velvet voice said. No soreness, no sarcasm, no biter tone. Just you, all vulnerable and naked asking him to stay the night.

And if he thought he couldn’t fall harder for you, you just showed him he was very wrong.

‘Cause the warm sensation that took over his chest told him it was just the beginning.

He smiled brightly, that golden-boy smile, brighter than the Sun; and looked at you with those beautiful, shining baby-blue eyes, those eyes that remembered you of summer skies and caribbean seas. And if it wasn’t for the dimy light of the room, you would notice his eyes had never shine so bright.

“As you wish.” Was all he said. It was that he needed to say right now, for his gaze spoke more than he ever could.

And you? Well, you took everything he gave you. And gave him everything you had.

You cupped his face and pecked his lips sweetly. He always knew that - despite your tough figure - you were made to do such sweet gestures as that one. He loved that they were directed to him now.

Steve got out of you and you guys laid into the huge bed silently, just savoring each other’s presence. You rest your head on Steve’s chest, hearing his heartbeat while he caressed your back with the softest of the moves.

His warmth remembered you of that small, insignificant island on Central America. You remembered the bluest skies you had ever seen, and the endless bright seas. You remembered the hot, golden sand that sustained your feet. You remembered the calming sounds the island and its nature made, always helping you to relax and feel safe. You remembered the scent of that place: woody; soft yet imposing; a smell that followed you everywhere, always saying that small part of you was around. You remembered Marta and that warming sensation she used to bring to you. Gratitude. Love. 

You also remembered Steve and the first day you both met. You remembered his mesmerizing blue eyes; his golden skin and golden hair; his voice, which always seemed to relax you, making you feel safe; his imposing scent and how it followed you everywhere; but, most of all, you remembered the warm sensation he woken on you, exploding inside your chest like fireworks on 31th December.

You smiled, humming the little song you remember Marta singing to you on those hard recovering days. You smiled, and went closer to his body, trying to capture his scent and warmth as best as you could. You smiled, ‘cause now it all made sense.

Steve was drifting to a soft sleep when you started humming. Your humming. And he felt his heart smile with joy for being able to sleep with you by his side, singing the song he so unintentionally learned to adore. 

But then he  suddenly felt an overwhelming impulse waking him up him, leading him to ask where you had learned that song he learned to love over the time. But then he stopped himself and thought that he would have all the time in the world to ask you that. To ask you anything he wanted. To get to know you. All your flaws and beauties. All your secrets and dreams. 

He smiled from ear to ear, feeling his heart dance inside his chest. He kissed your forehead, your soft humming fading away while your sleep came closer. The super soldier bringed you closer to his body and sighed, relieved.

He had all the time in the world to get to know you. Starting by tomorrow. 

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curiosity! the first title i actually thought for this one was "sorry, cap" since t was just a regular smut. but it turned out being so lovely that i just knew it deserved another title. what do you think? did you prefer smutty title of my-whore-self-trying-to-make-fluff title?

#steve boi #steve rogers x reader #steve imagine #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers exhales big dick energy #captain america #captain rogers #i have such a kink for angry steve rogers #like #really #i should probably go see dra. mils after writing that #dra. mils is my therapist #a lovely woamn she is #im such a slut for men and women double my age #why am i such a whore for fictional characters #why am i such a whore in general? #do you guys even read these? #red bull and doritos are my study time snack today #shit #im going to die like that

[kinkylittlebastardsuniverse]

dental anxiety.

warnings! good old nsfw; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids); oral sex (female receiving); bit of swearing as always; doc kink!; kind of a cheating kink kind of cenario as well (?) sorry if it was too far away from the original proposal; roleplay; myself fangirling over loki is a warning?

so, yes, you need to be over 18 to be reading this so everybody can go home safe. consider yourself warned.

words! a lot. but let’s say a 5727 for whoever is interested.

this is a fem!reader x loki and it’s based on this lovely anon request. 

hope you all like it!

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It’s not that you hated dentists. You thought they were very important professionals, their work mattered and all. You just weren't very fond of the idea of being their working material.

Unfortunately for you,  it's been a week or so that  your wisdom tooth was hurting like a bullet hole. And, again, it's not like you were a crybaby or anything like that. But, let's be serious, toothache just sucks. Full stop. 

So, against all your will, your body's biology won and you ended up making an appointment with your long-time-no-seen dentist. For today. And you were hella nervous.

No. You were terrified. 

Ok, you were an Avenger. And ok, you fought monsters and aliens and bad guys etcetera, etcetera. But you we still afraid of dentists. An you didn't like being judged because of this. 

Was it dumb? Maybe. Would you stop being afraid because of that? No. 

So that's why you told none about your little... hesitation on going to the dentist. And that's also why you have been so nervous about something the whole Tower couldn't even guess about. The whole Tower, except for Loki.

Afterall, how could you have been so fool to think you could actually hide something from the God of mischief in his whole glory?

"You've been behaving strange lately, love." Your long term boyfriend, Loki, asked in a sober tone while you were getting ready to go and meet him. Dr. Finnegan, your worst nightmare and former dentist. 

Yeah, you should have seen that coming. 

You froze in your spot, pondering wich would be the less ridiculous way to tell your boyfriend, an actual God, that you were going to face your worst fear exactly 40 minutes from now. 

"Oh. Have I?" Was the best your poor brain could manage to voice out at the moment. And, yes, it wasn't as good as you wanted it to be.

Loki frowned his browns, just like a parent who got his child in the middle of a lie. A hesitant "yes" came out from his lips and you knew you weren't leaving this room without telling him the truth.

At that moment - while you wondered which would be your destiny in this cruel full-of-dentists world - your tooth made the favor of bringing you the sharpest pain you have ever felt in your whole life. Ok, that was hyperbole. But it was a very sharp pain that made you wrinkle your face in disgust. Why, God?

Your dominant hand naturally went up to your sore cheek, trying instinctively to dim the miserable pain that damn wisdom tooth was causing you. Hell, how it hurts. Loki looked puzzled by your expression, a trace of concern ran into his gaze, even though his frame hadn't moved a muscle to touch you.

"You are in pain." He said, his voice making it sound more like a question. He tilted his head a bit to the right and frown his big blue eyes, the action making he look more like a concerned puppy then an all powerful, norse God. 

But that action of his passed unnoticed through you, since you couldn't find the place on your soul to admire his beauty self right now, thanks to that damn tooth. And, between the almost unbearable pain in your mouth and the angry with yourself for letting the situation become this serious, you scoffed at his comment, even though you wouldn't mocke his worry about you on your normal state. 

"Yes, Loki. I am in pain. Thank you for noticing." Another hiss and you wondered if it would be that bad for you to just rip out that tooth right at that instant.

Loki lock his jawn, clearly not enjoying your behave. But he let it go, 'cause he knew you had an very thin pain limit, even though you didn't like to admit it, being an Avenger and stubborn as Hell. So he dressed an assuring smile instead and walk into your direction, ready to help whatever he could. 

You were still with your eyes closed, your main hand resting softly on your cheek. You were still locked up on the thought of taking of the tooth yourself or not; all not to go to the dentist. You didn't notice your boyfriend's approach until his own cold, enormous hand rested just above yours, the affection of the gesture making you open your eyes suddenly.

Icy-blue eyes meet yours and you felt a hint of shame kick on your stomach for being unnecessarily rasp with him. Afterall, he just wanted you to feel good. It wasn't his fault you were in pain - both from the tooth and for having to visit the dentist. Your features softened on his touch, making you instantly lean on his hand, crazy for some coolness on your wisdom tooth.

"Sorry." You shyly said, hoping he would get you were moody at the time you scoffed him. Loki obviously knew that already, since he made his personal job to know you like the palm of his hand, you yourself making his job very difficult as you always seemed to surprise him someway. It fascinated him, to be honest.

"It just hurts so much." You meowed, your soft, delicious lips forming an stubborn pout, inviting him in. But he focused on helping you, his love, to get over your pain. Other matters could wait a little bit. 

"Are you going to the see a doctor?" He simply asked, his gaze running away from your adorable pout to look into your eyes.

You froze. Your stomach got sick and you could feel the color running out of your face while the coldest of the goosebumps ran down your spine, like iron claws ripping your back's flesh. 'Cause being with Loki made you forget your appointment with the Devil was getting closer and closer. You gulped, knowing he noticed your change of behave and that he would demand an explanation from you. Ugh.

"What's wrong, love?" His tone was so soft you could almost feel it caressing your skin. You sighed, because with that loving tone of his there was no way you could possibly lie to him. And he knew that. That bastard.

One deep breath and

"Iamafraidofdentists."

Quick as a child taking off a bandage so it wouldn't hurt that much, you let go of your "secret" and could already feel the red on your cheeks. Because something inside you insisted that being afraid of dentists was ridiculous. But you still feared them. The icy office, the falsely comfortable chair, the drills and injections and utensils used inside your mouth, where you couldn't see what the dentist was doing ... All of this has always frightened you since childhood. But, now you were a grown woman. An Avenger, loved and hated by many. Being afraid of dentists bordered on the ridiculous comic, you thought. And you feared Loki would think the same.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, his hand still caressing your sore skin.

You took another deep breath, physically aching for having to say that outloud again.

"I. Am. Afraid. Of. Dentists."

And now it's done. 

"Oh." That was what leaved Loki's lips before he laughed softly, making you feel both ashamed and angry. Mix the toothache on that recipe and ta-dan: you wanted to both cry and punch him on the face.

"I know it's dumb but there's no need to mock me while I'm in pain." You voiced while you body retracted itself from his touch, denying his proximity. You felt more than embarrassed. You just told him something that, despite it's "childish" content, hurted you. It haunted you during your whole life. And you had expected him to at least respect that. 

His eyes widened at your acid comment, almost as if he had just realized that his reaction bothered you. And Loki couldn't stand the thought of hurting you.

"No no no." He hurried to say, the words coming out of his mouth like bullets from a 38. "I do not think it's dumb, alright love?" He hesitantly tried to put his cold hand back on your cheek. And you allowed him, your eyes narrowed in curiosity as to what he was going to say next.

"I would never think such a poor thing about you, my darling. Never." Despite his cold body, his words sounded warm and his smile hit you brighter than the Sun. 

"I just think it's odd that you kept that part of you from me, my love." His thumb began to wander over your skin, letting the electricity of his proximity invade your body.

"Because it's childish and dumb." You bluntly said, your eyes closing and your face leaning on his touch once more.

"I would say it's quite fascinating, actually." His voice was addicting to you, filling the room and bringing you to him. Always to him. "Afterall, it’s been a while now. But I still have so much to learn about you, you little puzzle." You could taste the sweetness on his voice and you started to wonder - something you have came to do along your relationship with the God - how could this men, the men that "almost destroyed New York city once" (fuck you, Thanos), could be this caressing and gentle once you have the chance to meet him for real?

"Besides," his voice cut through your thoughts and made you open your eyes, just to find his own already looking deep into you. "You're dating the God of mischief, dear. A master of the magic arts."

The smug smirk on his pinky lips made you inevitably roll your eyes. How could he go from something so lovely to something so cocky? You would never know.

"I could just" 

Pause.

"make the pain go away."

And you didn't know if it was because he said it through heavy lids, staring at your lips; or if it was the tone he used - low, pausadly, almost like torture; or if it was the very words he used, selected in such a way that you could say that his offer was genuine and perhaps innocent, but it aroused something in you that was far from innocent.

You swallowed hard, your anxious eyes roaming over your boyfriend's body as if they could devour him. The white, plain shirt he wore did nothing to calm your unclean thoughts, and inevitably the image of Loki in a lab coat fucking you from behind as your body leaned over his med-office table flowed into your mind almost as if it had already happened. And, God, how you wished it had.

You thought of him examining you as you sat on the stretcher, his icy hands running all over your eager body in a professional yet so sexual way you would be confused if he desired you or not. And then he would fuck you. Hard. In a way you had never been fucked before. And Dr. Loki would talk about your husband or boyfriend, telling you how they weren't paying you the attention you deserved and how good him - and only him - would make you feel. And you would cum on his cock again and again to a scream of his name and...

"Would you like that?"

Oh, you would.

"Sorry?" You replied almost instantly with a tremble tone, thanks to your away too fertile imagination. You were so lost on your unholy mind that you forgot he had actually talked to you and that he obvious expected an answer.

"The toothache. Would you like me to help with that?" Sure, the toothache. You almost forgot about it. And, now that he mentioned, it started to annoy you, again.

"Sure." The words slipped through your lips almost immediately, not giving you a chance to rethink your sentence. Your voice was weak, too weak, and you didn't need a mirror to know your cheeks were on fire not because of the cellular activity around your wisdom tooth.

Loki smirked cheaply before guiding your lazy body to the desk on his left. Your mind was still numb from your exciting brain activity from only seconds ago and you honestly weren't giving a shit about your pain anymore. There was only him. Him, Loki, and his slim figure and sinful lips and silver tongue. Him and his cold touches, slender fingers and that damn white shirt that you wanted so bad to rip from his torso.

The brunette effortless lifted you, making you sit on the desk as he slightly opened your legs, his cold skin never really touching yours. He positioned himself among them, keeping his distance from your core which made you swear under your breath. Because he was so fucking close; but not close enough. He kept one of his strong hands on your thigh and the other came slowly to your lower back, cheaply touching the place as a warn for you to stretch your back. You did, silently hoping for him to touch you more properly now.

You sigh, a tiny attempt to contain the arousal between your legs, and you couldn't decide if you wanted Loki to notice your present state or if you feared that he might find the reason behind your horny inappropriate. But let's face it, we're talking about Loki. He would be more than pleased to grant your wishes, whatever they were. You were his queen afterall.

But you seemed to ignore that fact as you tried desperately not to show how excited you were about his proposal to examine you.

Meanwhile, his hand was still firmly on her leg, close to the knee, making timid circles over the jeans that covered your hot skin. The other hand, the one on that was on your lower back, migrated sinuously to your face. Loki's eyes were serious, focused as he examined your jaw, touching where your sore wisdom should be with the most delicately of the touches, almost as if he could break you.

You swallowed again, his icy touch was away too soft in your opinion.

"So Ms. (y / l / n), tell me about your complaints." He said in a sober, clinical voice. Slowly and professional. And you couldn't tell if he was joking or being serious. You also didn't know which of the options sounded most disturbing to you. Or more exciting.

You felt a puddle form between your legs, because his eyes weren't meeting your confused ones while he was so damn focused on your jawn, as if it really was his damn job.

What was him up to?

He pressed some point a little too hard and you hissed, his hand getting away from your face instantly.

"Does it hurt here?" He asked; his tone still sober but a glint of concern shone on his beautiful face.

And you couldn't pinpoint the exact reason, but you decided to give it a shot.

"Yes, Doc. It hurts so bad."

It sounded more like a plead than anything else. And you knew it would kill him inside not to touch you after that.

"I see..." He managed to remain stern but you could spot the sweet glint of lux on his eyes. His voice was husk, even though the professional tone was still there. But you knew that look on his eyes. He was scheming. And you loved that.

"May you take your shirt off, Miss?" The "miss" sounded so divine coming out of his lips, humming to your ears as pure pleasure while his accent fitted into the word's corners just right.

"Yes, Doctor." You meowned for him, using your softest tone as your body automatically obeyed him, undressing yourself away too happily right in front of the man.

Soon enough you were shirtless, your breasts proudly hanging out on the cool air. You could feel your nipples harden dull to the cold and your pussy ache through the sensation.

Loki fixed his piercing gaze on your face, his eyes narrowed in pure concentration as he seemed to exam you, apparently not giving  a fucking fuck you were almost naked in front of him. You almost mop at this, craving his precisely cirurgical touch on your needy skin. Craving his lips, his hands, his cock. But, most of all, craving his attention.

Loki's hands traveled to the side of your breasts, lightly touching the sensitive skin in such a poor way that it almost forced you to beg for more. His fingers were cold as winter and sent a delicious shiver down your spine, making your whole body crawl with the sensation. You knew he had noticed.

Loki moved his shy touch to your neck, lightly touching the place. It seemed innocent indeed, but the presence of those huge hands of his on the delicate skin of your neck made you think of the most sinful things. Like the image of him, Dr. Loki, fucking you on the stretcher, your legs unbelievably open for him while he choked you, pounding on you until the only thing you could manage to say was his name.

Loki. Loki. Loki.

You shivered at your own ideas, closing your eyes quickly, gently, as his touch continued to roam around your neck and bust. The chills wouldn't stop and he applied the softest of pressures to your throat, making you almost moan. No, you moaned. It was low and soft, but it was still there. It was a moan. And, by his proximity, there was no way he had not heard that.

You swore silently, opening your eyes slowly to find his cold, malicious ones already staring at you, predicting your movements. His thumbs were still on your throat, pondering what to do with your vulnerable body, so merciful to him.

A puddle intensified between your eager legs, boldly showing how much your poor body wanted him. It was almost like it was showing off to him. So he could see (and feel) how much you craved him. Needed him. Deeply, madly.

“You know, Miss, I have a suspicion of what your problem may be, but I need to do a little more… complete examination. Just to be sure. ” His voice was sweet as honey, but you could feel the danger hovering behind his words. You couldn't help but associate him with a predator deceiving his prey, attracting it to its own perdition. And something about the way he said it pleasured all of your soul, making it hard to suppress the proud little moan that wanted to escape from your lips.

You were too caught up in the pleasure his voice alone caused you to realize when he began to remove his hands from your neck. Only when the cold of his absence hit you did you notice his touch moving. You almost protested. Almost. For Loki's divine touch began to walk down your body, down your bust and dancing softly at your waist, playing with the warm skin of your body as if it were the most interesting of toys. And, honestly, you kind of felt like a doll on his arms: completely at his mercy, doing as he pleased.

Loki played your body like a musician played a violin, always getting the right notes. And you had no choice but to melt in his arms. It wasn't the worst of dead ends though. You loved every moment of it.

‘Cause being his was a sensation you could never get enough from.

“If you will allow me” his voice sounded dominant in the environment, taking over not only your hearing but all your other senses. Overwhelming you like the addictive drug he was. That was his effect on you. Always. "I can help you."

Inevitably, you bit your lower lip, not being able to control the intensity of your own thoughts as your fertile mind wondered about the ways he could help you. There were so many.

You didn't notice, but you tilted your head back slightly, a gesture so subtle but so full of pleasure that it couldn't escape Loki's hawk gaze. Your eyes closed on a delirium of pleasure, just with the image on your head of Loki eating you out, his black curls lost in the middle of your legs. It was almost too divine to be so sinful.

"Your problem, Miss." Loki thought now was a good time to speak up, just to make sure you wouldn't come just with your imagination and without his permission. “Is quite particular, almost… singular.” He continued, his mischievous hands cutting across the skin of your belly, heading toward your eager core. And you didn't want - or couldn't - contain the sigh that escaped between your lips. A gesture that, unconscious or not, gave Loki the approval he wanted.

“They haven't been fucking right, have they, Miss?” He asked almost politely, what was an absurd contrast to the content of his words, so deliciously filthy. You understood that he meant someone, but the only person in your head now was Loki. No one else existed, no one else mattered.

You moaned in response, too caught up in his voice and the suggestiveness of his words to formulate a minimally coherent sentence.

It has been a long time since you moved to a more stripped down position. Your arms were behind your body, supporting the weight of your torso as your hips were more straight forward, your legs wider for him to fit.

“And you are craving to be fucked hard, aren't you? Such a nasty little thing. ”He spoke closer to your ear this time. You felt when his body leaned in, getting closer to yours. But you were too caught in the feeling of his proximity to predict his dirty talking. His warm breath danced on your earlobe and you inevitably threw your head back wildly, giving him room to act.

You felt it as his icy touch descended lower and lower, reaching the middle of your legs and you moaned at the shallow contact because you wanted more. And he pressed the region in response, because he could give you more.

“Tell me, Miss. Tell your Doc if it hurts here. ”He asked, his voice more embarrassed and clearly covered with lust. You could come right there with just that. But you wished beyond those poor touches.

“Yes, Doctor. Yes, it hurts so bad. Please make it go away. ” You half pleaded, half moaned loudly, letting yourself go. Losing yourself to his touches.

“I'm afraid my suspicions were right then, Miss. Such a needy little slut like you can't stand being fucked cheaply, huh? ” His tone was acid even though he kept it low. As if he was mocking you and your needy, vulnerable estate. Too bad you desired him too much to care about it. 

So you just nodded with your head. It was eager and fast, showing just how much you needed him to act. But Loki was a patient man and he knew it would be just so much better if you played along. Pluss, it's not like he didn't love to hear you beg. The soft little sounds he could (would) take from you were just heavenly. He would never get tired of them.

“Use you big girl voice, Miss.” He demanded as the grip on your clothed pussy tighten.

“Yes, Doc! Yes! Please help me! ” You almost screamed, your voice coming out so desperately you feared for a moment that the door might be open and that someone might come in. But as fast as it came, it went away and all you could think were Loki's fingers so close to your pussy while his husky voice drowned your ears.

“Oh, I will help you, sweet thing. I will fuck you so good you are not going to let anyone else fuck you. Ever.” He said through his teeth and you almost felt a twinge of anger there. As if the mere possibility of someone else bringing you pleasure made his blood boil. And his bossy, possessive attitude made you moan as you eagerly thought about how hard he was about to fuck you.

He walked away and you almost cried at his absence. Until you felt the jeans being torn from your skin and you chose to worry about the integrity of your clothes later. On the contrary, you let out an approval meow that sounded almost animalistic, to your surprise. Like a cat in heat and you've never been so wet.

Loki grunted in response, turned on by the sounds he was taking from your body. His hand went to your panties, breaking the material like it was nothing. Soon you were fully exposed to him who, on the oposity, remained clothed.

Loki knelt in front of you before you could find words to complain about the excess of clothes that covered the God's body. His icy-blue eyes remained glued to yours and no words were spoken as he slowly lowered himself in front of you, placing your legs over his broad shoulders as if you were - again - a doll.

Soon enough, his knees found the ground and you were wild open in front of his head, inevitably feeling his hot breath on your core as you anxiously predict the contact that was about to come. And there was your pussy covered in your arousal, glowing with pride through the room's light while the God's eyes did nothing but observe it, entranced.

Then he gave an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thighs, his eyes leaving you momentarily. You moaned, not allowing your gaze to deviate from the God lost in the middle of your thighs. His gaze returned to yours as he decided to give your pussy a long, firm lick and you swore your whole body screamed with pleasure.

A loud, pornographic moan left your lips as your face twisted with pleasure. Your eyes stayed open as Loki's closed, observing the pleasant expression he made as he tasted you. So sweet. It was when he groaned against your intimacy that you were forced to throw your head back, closing your eyes, delirious with pleasure.

Loki quickened his pace, eating you faster as loud moans and curses left your heavenly lips. It was such a sight.

One finger came inside you and you almost screamed. One more and his name left your mouth like a pray. 

His lips left your cunt to attack your mouth and you moaned as your taste came strong on your tongue while his slender fingers kept fucking you merciless. You felt your nipples burning through the rough material of his shirt and something about him being full clothed and you being all naked made you feel exposed; and vulnerable; and hot inside, as if you were about to cum. 

And you were. The knot on your lower belly was unmistakable and you suddenly felt like fireworks were exploding through your whole body.

You didn't have to warn him or ask him twice.

Loki fixed the pace, hitting all the right buttons for you to come. You felt your inner folds squeeze his fingers and the weight of his gaze on your face as you did so. Your vision became white and the all colorful and the pleasure was so much for you to handle.

God, you never came this hard.

His fingers left you and you couldn't contain the bitter feeling of emptiness that gesture brought. But Loki put a hand on your hip and you knew you would be full again soon. The other one, which was deep in your pussy just a few moments ago, he took to your lips and you sucked them, gladly obeying him. Your mischievous tongue roamed the length of his finger, sucking on every trace of you that might have been left there.

"Good girl." He proudly said, unzipping his pants and you couldn't be happier. "Obeying all Doctor's orders so well." And now he was taking his shirt off, exposing his beautiful chest for your hungry hands.

He tossed his clothes somewhere unknown to you and you both stand in front of each other fully naked. And there was something just... magical about him that made you sigh in anticipation for what was about to come (you, you hoped).

"As to help you with your little... struggle." His tone was cocky and full of himself, it should have pissed you off but it turns out you were only getting wetter. "I will recommend..." He stopped, wondering to himself what to do with you. "Three more orgasms." Your doe-eyes widened. You just came from the strongest orgasm from your whole life and he wanted three more? 

"Can you handle that, Miss?" But his voice was so demanding that you nodded eagerly, curiosity and luxury taking over your poor, needy body. 

He smiled proudly and left a sweet kiss on your lips, not taking too long in the almost innocent gesture. Without another word, he entered you like a person enters home: fast, anxious but enjoying every moment.

His cock was big and it tore your pussy apart, causing an animalistic moan - of pain and pleasure - to escape from your mouth before you even thought twice. Your legs instinctively climbed up, tying at his waist to receive him more properly. Your hands went to the God's broad shoulders, helping him pound on you more firmly.

His pace was unbelievable quick, making your breasts bounce at each thrust. And you were a moaning mess. 'Cause it didn't take him long to find the angle where he could hit your sweet spot. And he kept hitting it until it was unbearable for you to resist and you came without a warning, a crying of his name leaving your lips as an apology for not telling him you were about to come.

He grasped your chin firmly and forced his lips against yours. After the kiss, he stared at you with narrowed eyes and black irises, silently telling you that you would pay for it.

And he roughly laid you on the stretcher. You didn't resist and let him do it. Your legs were high at his waist, the new angle allowing new points to be reached in your pussy. And you moaned (screamed), because he wouldn't stop and you were just so sensitive.

Is this a good moment to say that you never understood the concept of multiple orgasms until you meet Loki?

'Cause he kept pounding on you with such an inhuman strength that you could feel the shape of the bruises that were forming on your skin. Bruises that held his sign, his mark all around your body.

"You may come now, sweet thing." He demanded after some more firm thrusts and you didn't knew if it was his magic or that your body was really that loyal to him to just cum at his command, but you did. Hard. Harder than the other two previous times and you couldn't process anything else but his cock deep in your pussy, fucking you into a total blackout.

How could you handle one more?

But you handled. 'Cause Loki turned you around, putting your beautiful ass on the air and fucked you from behind just like you imagined. His hungry hand came to meet your swollen clit and your screamed his name cause that was just too much.

"C'mon, sweet thing. One more, you can give me that, can't you?" He whispered on your ear, biting the soft flesh of your neck right after and you nodded. Because you wanted to give it to him.

Your pussy was sore and you could feel it. His cock kept pounding on you so hard your feet left the ground, his strength and the stretcher being your only real support right now. And there was his hand on your clit and his dirty words on your ears and his lips on your neck; and then there was the stretcher and that damn white shirt of his somewhere in the room and you couldn't remember how it had came to this point. And then

SMACK

He spanked you. Again. And again. It burned and you could feel the shape of his hand red and sore on your skin. And you came one last time to a scream of his beautiful name. 

Your vision became white, and all colorful right after, so you missed the way he also came moaning your name, spilling his white loads deep inside you.

Your body wavered and you lurched forward, falling into the stretcher, too busy enjoying your orgasm to care. Loki did nothing but admire the mess he had made of you. Your legs were slightly parted, your butt up in the air as his cum dripped from your pussy. 

There was a beauty in that which Loki could not decipher. Something raw and animalistic; but also loving and worshiping. Something deep and worth fighting for. That made sense, afterall. That's exactly how he felt about you. So he just just smiled, stroked your ass and placed a soft kiss on the skin of your shoulder blades, helping you to get up right then.

"Love? I think a bath would be good for you now." He spoke, his voice sweet and concerned that he may have gone too far with you this time.

And you, in all your glory, naked and fucked up, didn't want him to feel that way. Then you smiled. It was a weak, half-tired smile (from someone who had just come four times in a row). But that said something between "I love you" or "It was amazing," things like that, that you notice in a look or a way of speaking.

So you pecked his lips and joked

"Doctor's orders?"

He laughed, a happy - and somehow - relieved laugh. You were simply unbelievable.

"Yes. How is the tooth?"

You frowned.

"What tooth?" And then it hit you.

Shit. You missed the appointment with Dr. Finnegan.

But it wasn't like you felt you needed to go to the dentist anymore. The pain was gone.

Like magic.

Loki laughed at your half-desperate, half-angry state and let out a

"Lucky for you that your boyfriend can be an amazing doctor and solved your problem before you even knew it."

You couldn't argue with that. He really was an amazing doctor.

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you have no idea how happy I am to be posting this imagine rn! i just worked so hard on this! i sincerely hope you enjoyed it. i know i am very happy with the outcome.

oh, and to the lovely person who asked me to write this: i hope it was as you imagined. let me know.

thank you all for your lovely attention.

#loki odinson #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki smut #loki is away too precious for this world #must be protected at all costs #im drooling right now #really #dentist anxiety #odontophobia #we all hate toothache #but now all of us get good sex because of that