firstly, tysm for 101 (actually 103, haha) followers! when i started this account i honestly had no intentions of having so many of you lovely people take interest in me, but i'm very grateful nonetheless! this is my gift to you all, and, again, thank you!
i've seen a few other posts like this, but i wanted to go ahead and make my own! this is going to be completely different from the others that i have seen as well, so there's a lesser chance of duplicates for those of you who really enjoy these!
"You don't have to do this alone."
"I won't let you do this alone."
"I'll always be by your side."
"I'll get that for you."
"Let me bandage you up."
"I want you to be a part of my future."
"Here. You look hungry."
"Come here, I'll carry you."
"I fed your pets while you were away."
"Is something wrong?"
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I have an extra ticket... Would you like to go with me?"
"I saw you looking at it last time we were in the store together, so I got it for you."
"Stay with me."
"Thank you for making me smile."
"Your smile is beautiful. I want to see it more often..."
"I want to kiss you."
"You have a beautiful soul."
"No... No! Come on, I can't lose you!"
"You make me feel safe."
"Don't let me go."
"Give me a brush. I'll fix your hair for you."
"I want you, and only you."
"Your hands are too cold, I'll warm them up."
"I know you don't feel great, so let's stay home today, okay?"
"You're so beautiful."
"Hold me. Please."
"I took care of the laundry already."
"Go back to sleep, (term of endearment)."
"I'll protect you."
"Take care of yourself."
"Let's take a break and relax."
"You're the first person I think about when I wake up."
"You smell so nice."
"Let's move in together."
"I wanna know everything about you."
"Don't leave yet."
"Let me see your scars..."
"I remember when we first met..."
"Here's your medication."
"I have a surprise for you."
"I bought this for you. It's in your favorite color..."
"Your skin is so soft."
"I would do anything for you."
"I'll help bring in the groceries."
"Last night your feet were really cold, so I found some of your socks and put them on you."
"I would go anywhere with you."
"You're cold, take my jacket."
"You're so golden."
"No one has ever made me feel like this."
"I missed you... a lot."
"Come back soon."
"I got us matching shirts!"
"I know you can do it."
"I'll never forget you."
"I've waited so long for this..."
"You look like something's bothering you... You can talk to me if you need to."
"We make the best team."
"I'll hurt whoever did this to you."
"You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better."
"I want you to meet my family."
"I want to start a family of our own..."
"Your back is so tense. Would you like a massage?"
"This is my favorite picture of us."
"Don't hurt yourself again..."
"You should be more careful."
"Hey, your favorite movie is on. I'll get the popcorn."
"You've never let me down."
"I saw that you were almost out of shampoo, so I went and got some for you."
"You're overworking yourself... Please take a break."
"I named my little plant after you."
"It's an honor just to know you like this."
"I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?"
"I never imagined that someone's heartbeat could sound so amazing."
"What was your childhood like?"
"You looked so cute when you were little."
"You look just like your mom/dad."
"What happened to you?!"
"Does it hurt?"
"I love waking up next to you."
"Don't be scared. I'm right here."
"Have you been drinking enough water?"
"We can look out for each other."
"I'd like to take you on vacation one day, just the two of us."
"Are you sure you're ready?"
"You're so funny."
"Do you want to help me fix dinner tonight?"
"You don't have to pay me back."
"No, you're sick. You're not doing chores until you're better."
"Your voice is so relaxing."
"Text me when you get home safely."
"I found this meme that I think you'll like. Wanna see it?"
Summary: When you and Bucky successfully infiltrate a HYDRA auction, you’re told to stay another day due to max capacity on the jet. But how are you going to survive a night alone with this insufferable Super Soldier? Especially considering the miniscule size of the room and the obvious dilemma presented; who gets the bed?
Warning: S M U T , the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, language, spit kink, daddy kink, ptsd symptoms, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, hate-s e x, rough, more like enemies-to-lovers kind of thing, gagging, m!receiving, f!receiving, lots of receiving lol, 18+, M
Word Count: 10.6K (Whhhyyyyy)
Your body burned with exhaustion and the sheer weight of your extremities felt enough to drag you to the floor and mirror a coma with the length of your hibernation. You no longer had the minimal strength required to pick up your feet properly which resulted in the sound of shuffling to fill the small, and by small you meant miniscule, room you’d been assigned to.
Well, you and Bucky had been assigned to.
You’d both played your parts well enough over the course of the last few hours. You’d sauntered into the ran-shacked looking bar with Bucky’s arm tossed lazily over your shoulder, his distaste for the assignment evident on his face, but he’d cleared it away the second his foot crossed the threshold. He pulled you in tighter to his body and raised his chin into the air, emitting the energy of a man not to be trifled with. You’d portrayed your role as a damsel just as, if not more, convincing as Barnes’ opposite. Your shoulders hunched over and your steps were small and quivering, the wig on your head a tool used to curtain the hair in your face.
You were the lamb to this White Wolf.
Word had traveled through the dark and twisted grapevine that a certain showing of sorts took place tonight and a high-ranking target was rumored to be amongst its audience. You and Barnes were on the first flight to Germany within minutes.
Bucky had pulled you through the crowd moving along to the thundering music in the background and halted at the edge of the bar. His grip on your shoulder tightened once he’d caught the man’s attention and you winced, his fingers digging a little too deep for your liking.
The bartender scanned you over and took in your frame, making you feel smaller than you had already displayed yourself to be. It took him a while to conclude but when he took in Bucky’s domineering gaze, a look as if to say Deny me, I dare you, he nodded once and wrote something down on a napkin, sliding it over to Bucky.
Scum. All of them.
You nearly blew your cover trying to throw Bucky a look but you refrained from the hellfire clawing its way out of you. You had to be perfectly in control, emotions and beliefs aside. You were a damsel and you had to make certain they believed that. You knew they were watching; they always were.
“Relax,” Bucky hissed, pulling you under his arm and bringing his lips to your ear.
“When you pretend you’re the one being put up for auction, then you can tell me to relax,” you muttered, never looking up from the ground.
“I have been.” When you paused your movement, he pulled away to scan the room, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I promise.” He led you backstage and turned the corner to a dimly lit hallway, barren of any decoration in sharp contrast to every other section of the building, “Besides, once they realize how insufferable you are, they’ll be begging me to take you back,”
He opened an iron door and pushed you into the room, sending you tumbling down onto the carpet. He tsked, stepping over you and not looking back after shutting the door behind himself. You counted thirteen pairs of feet and judging by the way some of them were turned towards you, they had to be watching. You observed your hands for a second, counting slowly until you figured you’d stalled long enough and sent your trembling gaze to the exit. Bucky let out a low chuckle and clasped his hand around your upper arm, launching you back onto your feet and twisting your body to face him.
Oh, darling, German fluently escaped his tongue and you nearly rolled your eyes at the condescending tone settled in his words, You know better than that, don’t you?
His hold tightened and you winced, holding back the whimper in your throat. If you saw any hint of a bruise forming on your arm, you would give him hell later . . . and possibly even if you didn’t.
You bit your tongue and let him lead you towards a leather chair before he pulled you swiftly down onto his lap where his hand remained on your thigh, brushing the inside softly. Had you not been so annoyed, you’d have been humiliated at all the stares devouring the scene unfolding before them.
Good girl, he drawled and pressed your back flat up against his chest where he could put you on display.
You knew you should’ve been annoyed, or at least settled so into your role as his temporary whore-for-sale that the sensation coming alive between your thighs shouldn’t have made an appearance. But sometimes, the way Bucky brought his voice down real low and cooed an insult or jest your way just had an affect that your body would not deny. It kept you awake a lot.
Instead, you swallowed hard and let yourself be splayed against him. You ignored the scent of sandalwood in his cologne.
Your body trembled from the cold breeze floating around in the room and you shifted in Bucky’s lap to block everyone’s sight from the way your chest reacted to the change in temperature.
Don’t be shy, he murmured and removed your arms from your breasts, letting the thin, practically see-through fabric show you to the world.
“Buc-” You started, your panic creeping through the cracks at the cheshire sneers sent your way, but at the first sign of your discomfort, he retracted his hands and twisted you around gently, throwing your legs over the side of the chair and spreading them but forcing your upper half to face him. Effectively, cutting your chest off from their line of sight.
You trembled out a sigh and he grabbed your face tightly, drawing your eyes to his. He examined you, his hardened gaze shouting words he couldn’t currently say. But you understood. He could be a jerk, but he wasn’t a bad man.
Your body instinctively leaned into him for warmth as another breeze engulfed you, resulting in a shiver that made its way up your spine. “Are they still looking?” you inquired and he gripped your neck with a ferocity that made you squirm in his lap. Fuck.
He pulled your ear to his lips and licked the helix. You whimpered. “No,” he whispered, running his thumb along your jawline, “But if you don’t quit fucking squirming you’re gonna have a problem, Doll,”
You opened your mouth in question when you felt a sudden twitch on your backside and you swallowed. Hard. He never broke eye contact with you, instead choosing to raise a brow in mocking. Your chest heaved up and down and how you could feel his breath grazing on your cheek almost had you rubbing your legs together for some form of desperate friction. No, you had to keep yourself composed, keep the act going. But he’d seen it. All of it.
You nod your head and slowed your breathing down until he released his grip around your throat and turned his attention towards the dim stage. You leaned back into him and followed suit, making sure to keep your attention downcast and appear disheveled.
“There,” Bucky whispered after a few minutes and you lifted your head only to find the man you had come all this way for walking straight towards you.
Like a moth to a flame.
“How much?” The older man inquired, his grotesque gaze settled on your spread legs.
Bucky looked up at the balding man as if this was the first time he’d noticed his presence, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”
The man lifted his brow, or what would’ve been, and smiled wickedly, “I’ll give you double your price if you give her to me now,” he offered, his eyes slithering up to the apex of your thighs and this time you didn’t have to fake the shiver running up your spine.
A small smirk formed on Bucky’s face and he waved his hand dismissively at him, “Get in line,”
The old man sneered but Bucky was right, most everyone had their attention fixated on what was happening currently and it was apparent there was, indeed, a line.
Bucky rested his gloved hand on your upper thigh and gripped tight, whether to refrain from hitting the guy or just to touch you, he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t keep you away when the man said, “I’ll give you four times the asking price but I want her now,”
Bucky’s grip on your thigh tightened and you squeaked at the pain, jumping slightly in his lap. “How about I give her to you for free for ten minutes and you tell me if you can handle her,”
You jerked your head towards Bucky and furrowed your brows. Free? Dick. You nearly scoffed.
The man gripped onto your calf and you shifted to kick his hand away when Bucky’s own shot out and and ripped his off of you, “Don’t touch my stuff,” he spit and the man let out a yell but that only spurred Bucky on and he tightened his fist, “Until terms are agreed upon, she remains mine to do with as I please. Understood?”
The man nodded hastily and Bucky threw you off his lap when he stood up. “Anyone else?” Bucky shouted to the room, daring others to test his limits when it came to you. After a few moments of silence Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t fucking think so,”
Bucky’s grip on the man remained and he stared down at the hunched figure, “Now, you,” he addressed and the room remained silent. This was allowed here.
Normally, merchandise couldn’t be touched until it was purchased. No buying before the auction, no discussing what you’re offering, no negotiating but most importantly don’t try to steal from anyone. These are criminals and that being said, they handle things amongst themselves. They know the rules and the risks they take breaking them.
So, when Bucky drags the poor bastard away, you follow right behind him. Not a protest to be heard. Bucky throws open the door we entered through and finds the nearest room before chucking the HYDRA agent inside and locking the door behind you.
The room was brightly lit, with all four walls a dull cream color and dark brown couches strewn casually about. There’s no real order to this place. All cement corners and LED bulbs. Pure business.
“Let ‘em know,” Bucky orders and you turn around to argue only to find the man pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.
You jerk suddenly and kick Bucky square in the stomach, launching him towards one of the couches just as a shot rings out. You blanch at the sound, the noise filling your head and drowning everything else out. You hear yelling but you can’t make out the words, only the panic intermingled within them. Your hand reaches out around you and you grip the small button lined into your thin clothing, pressing it four times how you’d been instructed.
Everything moved slowly and people began filing into the room. How did they get here so fast? No. It wasn’t possible, they were a quarter mile down the road, there was no way they were your backup.
Hands began flying in the air and you were picked up and dropped multiple times, each time landing harder than the last. You tried to blink back the spinning but the blows landing on your face and torso made it all the worse.
Instinctively, you threw your hands up to protect your face and fought to find some footing to help. Bucky was good but he wasn’t a God, he would need help. When the first blow met your forearms you reached out to grasp the hand and used your other to drive your fist right into the person’s nose. The bone crunched under your blow.
You took a hit, then another when you managed to analyze the enemy’s fight pattern and waited until he left himself open before driving your knee into his rib cage. He bent over in pain and you grabbed him by the hair, hearing another crack when you shoved your elbow upwards against his nose.
You heard a shout and whipped your head over to see Bucky on his back, a looming figure with a gun aimed straight towards him. You galvanized towards them and threw yourself in the air, using your weight to kick him off of Bucky when another shot rang out.
Bucky shot up and crushed the gun with his metal arm. You scoured the room for the familiar HYDRA agent but found him nowhere. You shot out of the room, knocking into an opposing wall as you turned the corner and ducked when the sound of a bullet whizzed past you.
This is not going good. You had lost your target and rummaged through room after room until you’d become lost. Fuck. Where the hell did he run off to? You winced after breaking out into a sprint but pressed on, not allowing yourself to slow down. There was no way you were going to fail this mission, especially after coming so close to success.
Sweat trailed down your face and your muscles screamed at you to halt, their exhaustion beginning to wear you down. Your breathing grew rapid and your vision blurred and just as you went to lean on a wall to rest, your shoulder exploded out in pain and you collapsed with a cry.
“Dirty whore,” the HYDRA man seethed, a cane raised over his head. He brought it down and you spun to the side, feeling the air breeze past your ear.
Your hand latched onto the cane and you shoved it into his gut, pushing him away. SHIELD wanted this guy alive, so alive they would receive him. That didn’t mean he had to come in one piece though.
You tore the walker out of his hand just as he tumbled onto his ass. You stood up, grunting along the way and hovered over his body, fear sprawled along his features.
“You can either stay still or get beat with your own cane, it’s your choice,” you offered, aching to bring the walker down onto his face. “Please test me. Please.” You begged.
His gaze shifted between you and the weapon and he brought his trembling hands up in defeat. He must’ve been an agent of some Intelligence branch because his fighting abilities were evidently subpar at best.
You sighed, sad to see the opportunity go but brought the cane down none the less. “That’s unfortunate,”
You turned your attention to the sound of running coming around the corner and moved to drag and hide your captive in a nearby closet only to roll your eyes when Bucky came ‘round. You tossed the cane back and forth between your hands and smiled proudly towards the agent on the floor.
“Look who I caught,” you toyed and were met with a grunt.
“Only because you let him get away,” he retorted, pulling the balding man up to his feet.
Everything began to slow and the hellfire you’d kept under mounds of ice had finally melted through its freezing cage. “What?”
He turned his back towards you and trudged the hesitant man behind him towards the exit.
“I said,” you hollered, not caring how the halls carried your echo, “What?”
“I heard what you said,” he called back to you, not bothering to turn around.
And there you were left, frozen and dumbfounded for five solid minutes before you could pull yourself together enough to stomp your way back towards the rendezvous point. You remained hazy for the most part while debriefing. You tried to recount everything but the way your anger engulfed you in its flame obscured your memory so you kept it short.
It was quickly brought up that SHIELD captured more HYDRA agents than expected and were gonna be at max capacity so you and Bucky had to stay at a base a few miles down the road. You grumbled in compliance but Bucky didn’t respond, not even a godforsaken grunt.
What SHIELD had failed to mention though, was that this bunker was clearly meant for one. It barely counted as a room. There was a small bathroom in the corner just big enough for a shower and toilet. No sink. And a small counter with just enough space for a stove, microwave and radio. If you were to lay down vertically or horizontally you’d nearly be touching wall each way. Not to mention the singular bed.
And that’s how you got to where you were now. Miniscule room. Exhausted body. Drained mind. Patience long gone.
You huffed and dropped your bag in front of the entrance before walking to the bathroom and turning to slam the door closed. You turned the faucet on and ripped the wig off, discarding your clothes in a pile before stepping into the shower. The warm water was nice and welcoming but your body already felt aflame so you twisted the knob and held your breath when the cold stream trickled down your body. It was difficult to breathe at first, but your body soon adjusted to the temperature and you began wiping the muck off your skin with the bar of soap supplied. But that’s all the was supplied. Clearly, this place was meant to be a quick pit stop.
You sat on the hard floor as the water streamed onto your body. You could nearly fall asleep to its rhythm; It was only when your head hit the wall that you realized you were so you begrudgingly stood up and shut off the water. You grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and pat yourself dry, noticing just then that you left your clothes outside.
You let out a long sigh and twisted open the doorknob to find Bucky toying with the radio on the counter; not even purposefully, just looking for something to do while he waited.
You opened your mouth to ask him to hand you your bag but after what he said to you earlier you’d sooner eat hot coals than ask him to do anything for you. You stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped neatly around your chest and you bent over to open your bag. The shuffling on the radio stopped.
“You could’ve at least left me some warm water,” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes.
You searched in your bag for the fresh clothes residing there only to turn around when you found them and have the bathroom door shut in your face.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You shouted, pounding your fist against the door.
You could hear the water running and you groaned, pounding harder. The door opened for a split second and you were hit in the face with the clothes you’d left inside only for it to instantly be slammed shut again.
You punched the door with all the frustration built up over the past few hours and felt the wood crack with your force. Why did this man have to be incredibly baffling? You were not nearly paid enough to deal with such an unbearable partner. He would have you bald from stress before you knew it.
You spent the next few minutes grumbling to yourself after you changed and scribbled your frustration onto a small notebook you took with you everywhere. It was only when you heard the water shut off did you remember something. You still had the only towel. A villainous smirk tugged at your lips and you placed the folded towel on the edge of the bed, away from the door.
Then you heard the creak. “I will walk out naked if you don’t give me the towel,” Bucky threatened.
You shrugged despite him not being able to see you from your position on the bed, “I’ll just laugh at your dick,”
“You weren’t laughing earlier,” he shot back.
Oh. So he did remember. Good. You thought he’d gotten amnesia within the past few hours, maybe he was just too ashamed to mention it.
“Too disgusted to insult. Plus, I was playing a character,”
“Fine,” he responded and quickly came into view, haughtily sauntering over to your side and you shouted.
“Dear God!” You held the towel up to block your sight of his barren body. It was disgusting. He was all wet, hair dripping onto his muscled torso, water gleaming off his taut skin, 5 o’clock shadow drenched and straight out of a wet dream. Jesus.
“Prude,” he commented, snatching the towel from your grasp and wrapping it around himself.
“Respectable,” you corrected, crossing your arms and shoving him away. “You get the floor,”
He lifted his duffle off the ground and rummaged through it. “Then I get the blanket,”
“You get fuck all,” you stated, flipping off the lamp beside you and snuggling into the warm cot.
When the shuffling stopped and the bathroom light was shut off, you shut your eyes and let the wear of the day grab at you, lulling you into the beginning of slumber. That is, until the blanket was hauled from around you, damn near throwing you onto the floor. You shouted out and caught yourself last minute.
“Barnes!” You yelled, steadying yourself and reaching over the edge to grab the blanket back. Your hand fisted at the faux fur and you pulled with all your might to no avail.
He swatted you away as though you were a pesky fly and reached over to turn the light of the lamp on. You glowered at him and stood, wrapping the blanket around your arm and pulling upwards. Your arm strained to its capacity but the man on the floor didn’t budge. Only turned his back to you and shut his eyes. You reached over yourself and flipped the switch of the lamp, once again immersing yourself in the comforting darkness.
Bucky stiffened and opened his eyes then turned and froze you in your spot with his stare. He reached around and lit the lamp, slowly retracting his arm and daring you to turn it off again. So you did.
He yanked the blanket from your grasp and threw you back onto the bed, bringing light into the room. “Light stays on,” he growled.
“No! You’ve had your goddamn way since you stepped foot into this room. Light goes off and I get the blanket!” You shouted, not concerned about anyone else hearing considering the room was soundproof.
“No. You get the bed so I get the blanket. Tell me how that doesn’t make sense,” he countered.
You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that it did, in fact, make sense. The floor here was wooden and clearly uncomfortable, plus he hadn’t even argued about the bed situation.
You retreated, “Fine, light still goes off,”
Silence fell between the two of you but you weren’t budging. Barnes had faced plenty of monsters, he could handle the dark.
“I need the noise to fall asleep,” he admitted and it was then you could hear the slight hum the bulb emitted.
You didn’t speak for a while but reared back and pulled out your phone, “What do you want to listen to?” You scrolled through a few sounds you had stored on your phone, “We’ve got: nature sounds, frequencies, guided meditations, etc. You name it, but I’m not sleeping with this forsaken light on,”
Bucky studied you, his expression changing a mile a minute but the one of indifference conquered, “Rain,”
You nodded once and selected the audio, placing the phone face up on the nightstand and turning the light off for the last time. Hopefully. You hunkered down into the thin mattress and reached down, grasping at the thick blanket. When you pulled, there was some give. He’d let you get just enough needed to cover your body if you laid at the very edge and your hand hovered in the air when you laid your arm over the side.
Minutes flew by with your eyes shut and the exhaustion slithered over your body but your mind ran wild with the events from earlier. You tried not to get angry or sad or . . . bothered. Your breathing deepened when you began to succumb to your body’s fatigue and you drifted inch by inch into the welcoming void lulling your name.
You didn’t hear when he shifted, only managed to register the faint tracing of his fingertips on your hand before finally giving out.
You weren’t sure what time it was when you opened your eyes for the first time that night. This regularly happened. You’d wake up multiple times during the night to shift positions or throw off the sheets, no matter how insignificant the desire, your body always found a way to wake you for it.
You opened your eyes slowly to a hazy vision and blinked at the sitting figure on the floor, “Bucky?” You croaked, bringing a hand up to wipe at your face, “What time is it?”
“It’s almost one, go back to sleep,”
“What are you doing?” You persisted, ignoring his demand and sitting up slowly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
A heartbeat. Then another. And another. He didn’t care to elaborate.
“Do you want the bed?” You offered, stretching yourself out and already placing yourself down on the floor, “It’s too hot up there, anyway,”
His attention turned to you for the first time but you’d already began closing your eyes, not really having the energy to argue with him. You could hear shuffling from his spot and the ground disappeared below you, strong hands grasping your body and lifting you up to place you gently back onto the cot.
“I prefer the floor,” he insisted, wrapping the blanket around you, “Besides, you’re a horrendous liar,”
You didn’t hold back the singular chuckle, your haze still enveloping you. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”
He sat at the foot of the bed, his hand hovering over your leg in hesitation, “It’s complicated.” He dropped his hand to his side.
“Isn’t the rain helping?” you mumbled, your sight now adjusting to the dark.
“I just . . . don’t want to wake you,”
“Well, I’m already awake if that makes you feel better,” you jeered, a small smile forming on your lips.
“Nothing does,” you retorted, the inevitable annoyance you always felt when conversing with him already made its way up into your tone.
He scoffed and stood from the bed, placing himself in the same spot on the floor with his head leaned up against the wall and his arm resting on his perched knee.
“Oh, so now you can’t handle a little attitude,” your tone came out incredulous, “You didn’t have any issues earlier when you blamed me for that guy’s escape. Which, he didn’t even get to do, might I add,”
“I was projecting,” he replied, gaze still focused on the door opposite to him.
You blinked, “Are you so tired that you’re actually admitting to being a dick?”
“I know I can be a dick, but you threw yourself straight into the line of fire twice today. So I don’t really give a shit if I was mean to you,”
“I only did that because you almost got shot twice today. Don’t take your anger out on me for your incompetence. Just say ‘thank you’ and move on already,”
“Incompetence?” His head jerked in your direction. “What was incompetent was that you couldn’t keep yourself composed,”
You sat up. “What in the hell are you talking about? My behavior is what got our target to basically give himself up to us! It was me that trapped him, not you!” His composure tensed and you crossed your arms over your chest, “You’re just mad your dick got hard so if anything you’re the one who couldn’t keep their compos-” His hand was wrapped around your throat and you were pinned to the mattress before you could finish your sentence.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed at you, his face mere inches from yours.
“Why?” You spoke hoarsely around his tightening grip, “Does the Big Bad Wolf not like that he was turned on? Who’s the prude now?”
“Turned on?” He spat, his free hand resting by your head to cage you in, “You think what you did earlier turned me on?”
You grasped at the hand around your throat and pried slightly to speak, “Fight me or fuck me, Barnes. But stop lying to yourself, it’s getting old,”
The room seemed to freeze over and Bucky paused. His hesitation was enough to elicit the fire from earlier and your legs squirmed a little underneath him. God, you hoped he chose the latter.
Then his lips crashed against yours.
You squeaked at the sudden onslaught but threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him in tighter against you. He dropped when you intertwined your legs, his full weight pressing against you deliciously. You ground up against him, your core aching from the previous hours and the small friction elicited a moan from the both of you.
“So impatient,” he scolded, bringing the hand from around your throat down to your hips and pressing you into the bed. “What a whore,”
His breath danced along your cheek and you mewled at his words. Gods, he was going to be the death of you. Or the beginning.
You breathed in deeply, his sandalwood scent intoxicating you in a manner that alcohol never could. When you drank, you were just drunk. But when you took a sip from the tall glass that was Bucky, it brought you to life. Your body sang melodies wherever you were plastered against each other and your skin burned with need.
Touch me, your body screamed, touch me.
“Fuck off,” you groaned and Bucky jerked your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to scavenge.
The goosebumps that danced across your skin when he ran his warm tongue up from the curve of your neck to the bottom of your ear brought an arrogant smirk onto Bucky’s face. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged when he reached a particularly sensitive spot that had your legs shaking when he kissed it sloppily.
Your mouth hung open in silent pleasure and your breaths were short and rapid, your body betraying all forms of control you previously had over yourself. The hand that wasn’t residing in his hair trailed down his muscled arm and you gripped at the brawn this man possessed. His skin reminisced lightly of silk despite the rough texture of his hands.
The same hands that now made its way into your hair and tugged at the strands at the base of your neck, jolting your chin higher into the air. Your grip tightened around his biceps and the strength they emitted sent a pool rushing to your core. You continued hunting until you found the hem of his black, cotton shirt and you made your way up his taut abdomen. You let out a sigh and he jumped lightly at the sensation of your cool fingertips across his scorching skin. It was a nice contrast for him.
You gripped at the shirt and hastily ripped the cotton upward. Bucky broke away from his descent down to your chest to let you remove the fabric and you’d suddenly wished you’d turned the lights on first. He mimicked your action and tossed your shirt in a deserted corner of the room to potentially be abandoned. You gasped when the cold air of the room grazed upon the perked mounds of your breasts.
His lips returned to their spot on the dip of your neck and his tongue slithered down in between your breasts. Your breath hitched when his wet muscle made its way up to the apex of your chest. His right hand mirrored his tongue and swirled around your nipple, his teeth pulling eagerly every so often and you hissed at the delectable pain. Your eyes devoured the scene unfolding on your chest and you reached over to flick the light on, desperate for a clearer image.
Bucky halted and his metal arm reached over to switch the light back off but you swatted his hand away and he backed up lightly, his irritation evident on his face.
“I want to watch,” you grumbled and shifted up to bring your lips back up to his. He let you. He pushed back lightly with his own lips and leaned in sync with your movements. He parted his mouth slightly and you followed suit, letting him lead his way into yours with the same muscle he’d just had flicking across your breasts.
The light went off.
You pushed him away and shot towards the switch but metal met your wrist firmly enough to keep you in place. “Bucky.” You wrestled against his hold and turned your full attention back to the figure hovering above, “I want to see you,”
Despite the darkness, you noticed his mouth twitch but his grip on your wrist remained solid. You sprawled back onto the bed and wrapped your free hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down onto you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips onto yours. You broke apart, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your own. “I want to see you,”
He didn’t move, only scanned your face over a few times and you brought him back down into a kiss. This one wasn’t like before. This one was warm, soft, patient. A ballet compared to its previous mosh pit. He danced along with you, an admission hidden somewhere in his tenderness.
You hadn’t realized you’d been freed of his hold until you were wrapping that arm over his shoulder and the sound of a light humming began.
“Fucker,” you jeered and the previous gentleness dissipated.
“Shut up,” he ordered, pinning you back onto the bed and resumed his ministration on your breasts.
The moan slipped past your lips at the sight and your chest heaved upwards, desperate for more stimulation. You licked your lips at how his mouth encased your nipple, his tongue flicking against the perked skin and you dropped your head back, shutting your eyes. You centered all of your attention anywhere that his bare skin touched your body and rubbed your aching clit against his v-line.
Your chest was pressed against the mattress before you could register what happened and the hard smack that met your ass evoked a yelp. Bucky pressed fully against your backside and he ground his dick down into your ass. He groaned at the sensation and you raised your ass onto him. You yelped again when Bucky ripped your leggings down and smacked the exposed skin on your ass.
“Try something like that again and I’ll gag you around my cock ‘til you’re crying,” he growled, “Understood?”
You nodded, wide-eyed and a mewling mess from the threatening promise of this God.
“Good girl,” he cooed, rubbing at the raw skin. “Now stay still for Daddy,”
Bucky’s hand lingered on your reddening ass and the mattress dipped when he shifted to your side. He traced gentle circles onto your backside and pressed his lips on your shoulder blade, the butterfly kisses making their way down towards your spine and then lower. Your breathing grew uneven from the sheer amount of restraint you displayed. Your grip on the edge of the bed tightened when his tongue dragged from the point where your thigh and ass met all the way up to the bottom of your spine.
“Fuck,” You shuddered, white-knuckling the blanket beneath you.
Your skin blazed when you were met with another harsh slap. You mewled at the sensation, loving the fire that spread across your flesh and relaxed when his metal hand cooled the area.
Then his teeth bit into the cooling flesh and you jerked away despite yourself. Bucky tsked lowly and you chuckled at the hint of fear sprouting in your chest; you did not want to see whatever sinister expression resided on his face.
A strong hand gripped the roots of your hair and hauled you up. You followed his direction and knelt onto the ground between Bucky’s sprawled out legs, settling in your new position.
“Oh, Doll,” he chastised, “you were so close,”
“That shouldn’t count,” you retorted while Bucky pulled the blanket off the bed and lifted you up with his metal arm, shoving the barrier between your knees and the hard ground.
“But it does.” His hands dove into his underwear and sprung his cock out onto your lips. “Now get to work,”
Your eyes widened at the sight before you and you had to physically hold back from gulping. You were ashamed to admit your mouth watered in anticipation. You lifted your hands from his sculpted thighs and wrapped them around his length, enveloping just the tip past your parted lips. Bucky sighed and twitched in your mouth.
You welcomed him in fully, or as much as you could anyway, and got straight to work, not bothering to act abashed at your desire. Your tongue swirled around his tip and you leaned into him until he hit the back of your mouth but you continued on, gagging around him when he’d gotten inside your throat. Bucky groaned when your throat tightened around him and he threw his head back, using his flesh hand to guide you up and down his shaft, showing you what he liked and didn’t.
“Fuck, Doll,” he groaned, “Just how I imagined your mouth would feel,”
You pulled off him to comment when he shoved you all the way down to the hilt and you threw your hands up onto his thighs to hold yourself back. He used his metal arm to hold himself up and thrusted up into your salivating mouth desperately. He continuously hit the back of your throat and thick saliva coated his cock. Just as he promised, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and he didn’t stop until your cheeks were drenched in the liquid.
You let your jaw hang open, your tongue no longer swiveling around meticulous spots that you knew would make his legs buckle. No, you let him have the reigns. Let him fuck your mouth ‘til your throat grew bruised and jaw ached with fatigue. You committed his cries of pleasure to memory, the sounds euphoric to your ears.
He lifted his head and stared down at you with half-closed eyes. He was in heaven and you knew it. He watched you, how the tears trailed down, how your hands gripped at his thighs, how you stuck out your tongue just as you’d made it to the base of his cock to lick his balls in the most intoxicating way. Fuck. You were the intoxicating one. You brought out this side of him. This carnal desire that became him until he’d had to step out of the room just to compose himself. And he didn’t like being out of control. That’s why he always kept you at an arm’s distance.
But now, watching as you sat between him with your mouth agape like the good girl that you were for him, he knew he’d never deny himself this pleasure again. Especially since you were so fucking good at it.
He groaned, pulling you off his cock and grabbed tightly at your cheeks, nearly pinching your mouth together. “Tongue out.” He growled, waiting for your compliance.
Your jaw ached with exhaustion but you managed to stick out the wet muscle as he pulled you closer into him and watched when he parted his lips above you, letting the saliva trail down from his mouth into yours.
“Swallow,” he ordered.
But it was already done, and you left your mouth hanging open for more.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky grumbled, putting his face right up against yours and feeding you once again; this time with a sloppy kiss that coated both your mouths in saliva.
He brought you up from the floor and tossed you onto the bed before settling between your legs. The excitement in your eyes grew and he indulged in every minute of it. Bucky’s hand trailed down from your lower abdomen right above your pubic bone and pressed his palm into your neglected clit. The cry you let out was the unholiest thing he’d ever heard.
He slid his finger under the waistband of your underwear and flitted his gaze back up to your eyes, “Can I?”
You nodded eagerly, dumbfounded that he would even ask and fought the temptation to grab your phone from the nightstand and record everything that was about to unfold.
At the first nod, Bucky slid your underwear down your legs and made a show of bringing the material up to his face. Your own went red hot and you hid behind your hands, poking through every millisecond to shamefully watch. He threw the panties into his open duffel and you squirmed in anticipation.
“Remember the rules?” Bucky asked, brow lifted and already descending to your inner thigh.
You nodded again.
“I need to hear it, Doll,” he mumbled, kissing the inner part of your thigh, each placement closer and closer to where you needed him most.
“Yes,” you whimpered out, “I remember the rules,”
Bucky wanted to dive right in, he really did, but the way you sprawled yourself out so vulnerable for him, it incited a new pace that he wanted to follow. So, he did. He looked at you for a few moments, watched how the anticipation danced in your eyes, how your legs shook in wait and how you were already so goddamn wet for him.
“This all for me?” he teased, mesmerized at your desire for him.
You dropped a hand down to your side, near where his hands were wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place - and against his face. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your answer.
You nodded sheepishly and when he lifted an eyebrow in mock confusion you said, “You. Just you,”
Like music to his ears. Just him. You weren’t for anyone else. He thought he felt his heart palpitate.
He lowered himself down to your core and kissed your lip, drawing a desperate plea from you. You couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t deal with the teasing. You were wet enough, needy enough, ready enough to take him, all of him. You’d been ready damn near the moment you first laid eyes on his arrogant smirk.
“Buck - please,” you cried, drawling out the final word.
The first kiss placed upon your soaked cunt erupted a sigh of relief and you laid back on the pillow, your eyes closed and mind gone with the sensation of those sloppy kisses blessing your needs. He flattened his tongue on your lips and licked upwards, stopping when your hips twitched into his mouth.
“Sorry!” You apologized, fighting the desire to grind into his wet muscle. He’d just gotten started and you certainly didn’t want it to end so soon.
He lifted his gaze up to you and you bit into your fist at the view, using the extremity to hold back your moans. He flicked his attention down again and repeated his motion, lapping at your fluids ‘til his beard was soaked in it. He shook his head into your cunt and his nose rubbed along your clit. The mewling that left your mouth urged him on and when you felt his muscle prodding at your entrance you threw your head back.
“Please, Bucky.” You begged, bringing a hand up to tease your nipple.
He prodded some more, his tongue gliding up from your clit and back down to your entrance, poking through enough to frustrate you. He wanted you to break for him. To lose all composure and control and just let him. He wanted you to submit to him but it wasn’t just that, it was more that he wanted to destroy you for any future experience you may have without him. He wanted you to come back to him, to need him, to beg for him and leave you with the understanding that nothing - no one - could compare to him. He wanted you. To himself.
So, when he could no longer refrain and had to use his metal arm to hold your hips down from squirming beneath him, he slipped two thick, rough fingers into your begging cunt. And the sound you emitted caused that carnal instinct to claw at the barriers caging it in.
Your hand shot down, tangling itself into his hair and pushing him harder against you. He allowed it. Your thighs held him in place, crushing him with your soft skin and he groaned at the warmth you gave off. You pulled your hand away from your mouth and grabbed at his metal one resting on your pubic bone, pulling it up to your chest and wrapping his fingers on the sensitive bud for him to tease. He slowly retracted from your chest and brought it back down onto your hips and you huffed in annoyance. You looked down at Bucky but his eyes were shut, completely engrossed in the feast before him. You bucked when his fingers glazed across that sensitive spot inside your velvety walls.
“There!” You cried, your fist tightening in his hair when the all-too-familiar wave of ecstasy began to pool together, waiting for its release.
Bucky complied, dragging the pads of his fingers up against that spot over and over again. Your legs caged him in tighter as his tongue swirled over the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves and you cried out at the way your body tensed.
“Fuck,” you cried, your hands desperately grasping onto Bucky’s metal wrist and tugging at the roots of his hair. Bucky’s groan of pleasure was what tipped you over the edge.
You gasped when the pool building released, your body shaking with euphoria and the flood crashed down onto you. And apparently, onto Bucky as well. He pulled his mouth away but continued rubbing at your clit when warm liquid squirted onto his face and his expression of surprise mirrored your own.
When Bucky looked up at you, your face burned with embarrassment and you threw your head back, using your hand to cover your countenance. Not to mention the sight of him with your juices all over his mouth was one of the hottest things you’d ever witnessed.
Bucky chuckled at your sheepish apology and removed your hand from your face, bringing his soaked mouth up to yours and having you taste yourself. You devoured each other, your arms wrapped tightly around the other, pulling so fiercely at the innate desire to become one in shared pleasure. He could feel his pride swell at your hidden confession. You’d never squirted before and he was lucky enough to be the one to give you that experience for the first time.
You clawed at him, divulging in the warmth his body radiated and intoxicating yourself in everything that was Bucky. You couldn’t get enough of it, of him. It was nearly too much.
His hand trailed up to your gaping mouth and he inserted his fingers, “Clean them,” he ordered.
Your hand gripped his wrist and pulled his fingers deeper into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, loving the way he ate up everything he was seeing. You noticed the way he swallowed.
He retracted his hand and wrapped it gently behind your head so you were resting on him. He brought his full weight down onto your body and a warmth emanated in your chest when he brought his lips up against your forehead, each kiss closer and closer to your lips until they met their destination. When you parted your mouth against his, it wasn’t merely an action of carnal desire, it was like you were exchanging life forces. Merging and meeting in a manner that had your body exploding and crying out for more of the faint familiarity. Like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.
Bucky looked down between your bodies at where you were about to connect before staring back up at you, taking you in as if he would never have this opportunity again. His thumb brushed your cheek and came to a rest on your bottom lip. “Ready?”
You chuckled, “Fuck me,”
He shoved inside in one clean motion and a breath of pleasure slid past both of your lips.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand tightening slightly around your neck and he pulled out slowly then shot back inside and you moaned.
You were still so sensitive from your previous climax that every brush against your clit sent you into a whirlwind of pleasure, the sensations shooting through every nerve in your body.
“Bucky,” you whined when his pace quickened and the sheer force of his thrusts drove you deeper into euphoria.
He filled you just right, his girth and length impressive and you wondered why you hadn’t tried to screw him earlier. He slid past your tight walls, each thrust causing the room to echo with the sounds of skin slapping and moans of ecstasy.
He kept his actions controlled, not wanting to build up to something so intense just for it to fall short and end fast. No. Despite how good you felt wrapped around his aching and swollen cock, despite how warm and welcoming you were, how you spread yourself out for him to consume, he had to leash himself. This was going to be just as good for you as it was for him.
He kissed you one last time before gripping the back of your knees and bringing your thighs up to your chest, a shout of praise falling off your lips. He was drunk on the sight of his cock going in and out of your cunt and he threw his head back with a groan.
“What a fucking pretty pussy,” he breathed out and you whimpered, biting your lip at the welcome profanities.
At this angle, he was fucking against your g-spot and using his pubic bone to rub against your clit and watching the thin layer of sweat sheen off his skin was all too much to keep yourself put together. His eyebrows scrunched together and you caught him taking in your form, watching how your pleasure displayed itself on your face for him to bear witness to. Only him.
He growled at the intrusion of thoughts that came to him. He pictured someone else in his position, someone else witnessing you so vulnerable and open to them, someone else fucking you and making you beg for them. It disgusted him. He brought his torso down and latched his teeth to your neck, biting down hard enough to have you tearing up.
“Mine,” he growled into your ear and lulled his head forward when you tightened around him.
A sinister smirk came to his face and he licked the shell of your ear, your breathy moans feeding him, “You like that?” He asked, pistoling further into your cunt and you shouted at the increase of pace, “You like when I tell you who you belong to?”
Your mouth hung agape and the one arm wrapped around his shoulder pulled him closer to you, your desperation for his warmth taking control. “Fuck . . . off,” you hissed between breaths.
He pulled out and yanked you up by your hair, twisting you around and pressing your torso into the wall but keeping your ass propped up for him to admire. You hissed at the pain when a sharp smack met your ass and your hands gripped at the wall for any way to ground yourself and prevent from becoming putty in his hands.
Another hard smack met your ass and you lurched forward to get away from the sting. Bucky kept your head pinned to the cement, his hand holding your cheek from scraping the wall but applying a pressure that had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.
You moaned at the intrusion in your pussy and he plummeted in and out, a mix of your grunts and groans bouncing around the room. His pace constantly changed. One second it was fast, the next it was slow but filling, going so far as to hit your cervix a few times and leave you a crying mess under his hold. Your shoulder scraped along the wall and you fought to push away only to have your chest slammed harder against the cement.
You brought a hand out, reaching behind yourself and grasping for Bucky’s hip, pushing him deeper into you when he slowed. Your nails dug into his flesh and the sound of his hiss shot straight to your core.
“What a goddamn whore,” he spat, bringing his teeth down onto your neck and you gripped at his hair.
You laughed at his statement, “You’re the one that can’t get enough of this pussy. Why so desperate to claim it? Afraid I'll fuck someone else?” Bucky pulled you back and slammed you against the wall with vigor, causing you to flinch
He stopped his thrusts altogether, “My patience only goes so far, Doll,” he threatened, tugging at your hair and you bit back a cry, “Choose your words wisely,”
You nodded hastily, the rough texture of the wall digging into your cheek and splitting skin. You wriggled up against him to continue moving but he retracted completely and flipped you over so he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him.
“Move,” he ordered, his hands digging bruises into your waist.
You leaned over, pressing your chest against his to lift your hips up and down on him but he pushed you back up and held your arms behind your back to keep you in place. You whimpered but the cry quieted when you rubbed your clit against him and your pussy clenched at the friction. You moaned out a breathy fuck and swiveled your hips around his, noting how much deeper he filled you in this position.
“Buck-” you huffed, eyes glued to the glistening abs beneath you. “I’m gonna cum,”
“Already?” He jeered, an eyebrow raised in amusement.
You’d lost all energy to sneer at him, your focus solely on how the sensation grew and began pooling in your cunt. “Cock . . . so good,” you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself from melting into him.
“What was that, Doll?” He stilled your movements and you groaned in annoyance.
You wriggled in his hold and you could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was fighting to keep control as well. You leaned over him, your lips hovering over his, “Mine,”
His grip flew to the back of your neck and he crashed your lips onto his, giving you full reign again. You bounced your hips on his dick, slamming down vigorously and rubbing your clit in effect. It didn’t take long for your climax to build again.
“’M gonna . . .” you whispered and Bucky placed you back up, gripping your hips and swiveling you around how you were earlier.
“Cum, Doll,” he allowed, “Cum all over this cock,”
You cried out, your toes curling as the dam in your core snapped and your climax washed over you. You hadn’t realized your fingers were intertwined with Bucky's until you came back down from your high, your chest heaving for breath.
He sat up slowly and pressed his lips against your neck. “You’re beautiful,”
Your body tensed at his words and you pulled away to give him a look of confusion. But he didn’t take his statement back, only slipped his hands around your back and gently placed you onto the bed, hovering over you.
He moved with caution, like his gentleness might scare you off if he touched you too tenderly or stared too long in admiration. But he couldn’t help it, he did admire you.
He spread your legs open and nestled between them, pushing into you slowly until your hips met and you both breathed out. His movements weren’t nearly as brutal as they were earlier, these thrusts were slow and deep and full of intention. He brought his torso down onto yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you.
He ran his hand, the only one he allowed himself to touch you affectionately with, through your hair and stared down at you, waiting. His gaze shifted between your lips to your eyes and he ran his thumb delicately along your mouth.
You looked at him then, really looked at him with fresh eyes and your heart leapt into your throat at the realization. “Kiss me,” you whispered and he lowered himself onto your lips, setting off an explosion in your chest.
“I’m yours,” he whispered, not able to bring himself to look at you, “I’ve been yours,”
You opened your mouth to respond but he silenced you with a deep thrust and a moan erupted instead. He quickened his pace, watching where you connected and pushed deeper and harder, your cries of pleasure driving him. He had to fuck you, he couldn’t love you, he couldn’t make love to you, just fuck. That’s it. He couldn’t allow himself to replay your look of shock at his confession, though the scene would surely be on loop for the next few days until he could get over it. Just fuck. Nothing more. Not with that look of disbelief on your face.
He held himself up with his forearms but you pressed him against you and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “Harder,” you whispered and he complied.
He groaned when your tits bounced and brought his mouth to a nipple, the faint taste of sweat lingering on your skin. You brought his metal hand up to your chest and made him grip the flesh there but he pulled it back and placed it beside your head instead.
“Bucky,” you whimpered and grabbed his hand again, bringing his open palm up to your lips and placing delicate kisses on the metal. “You can feel with it, right?”
He nodded, hesitance sprawled on his face.
“Then touch me,” you urged, bringing the hand down between your bodies and pressing the cold metal against your clit, “Feel me,”
His brows furrowed slightly but the look of your certainty forced him to dismiss his own perceptions of his body; or rather, that arm. And when he began rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves the expression on your face made him hate it a little less. Only a little.
You stared up at him, his pace growing erratic and sloppy and you knew he was close. “You wanna cum?”
He nodded, his hot breath coming out haggard and strained. You placed your hand on his cheek and brought him up to your kiss.
He shook his head, “You first,” he swirled his finger around your swollen clit and you gasped at the force of his thrust.
Your body tensed and you centered all your focus on his ministrations, “A little more pressure,” you directed and he quickly found a pressure that had you wobbling in the knees. “Close,” you murmured, gripping Bucky’s side and bringing your lips up to his neck to pepper the skin there.
He groaned and judging by the way his dick twitched inside you, you knew he wasn’t far behind.
“Bucky,” you whispered, pulling his attention towards you and his gaze brought you closer to the edge, “I’m yours,”
He blinked and his pace faltered for half a beat. He examined your facial expression, like he didn’t believe the words you’d spoken. Not like he couldn’t believe them, but like you’d said them just to appease him.
You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to center yourself in the haze of this fucking. “Yours,” you repeated, all the emotion residing in your chest poured into the singular word.
And then he was back to drilling you into the mattress, a new vigor fueling his thrusts. You cried out and Bucky pressed his sweaty torso flat against your own and it felt like the essence, the being, in your chest intermingled with his own and all the climaxes you’d previously experienced couldn’t hold a match to the flame, the intensity, the rawness of the one that washed over the both of you in that moment.
Bucky moaned out, his hips bucking into yours and you rode out both of your highs. The sensation consuming and overwhelming and welcome on both ends as it flooded through your bodies, meeting at your point of contact.
His arms flexed above you with the ferocity of his climax and the display had you writhing beneath him, already desperate for more.
“Buck,” you whispered when his breathing evened out after he collapsed onto you.
He didn’t respond, afraid it had all been a dream, a trick, despite still being inside you. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shatter the perfection of this moment. What if you’d only said that to get him to finish faster? What if you’d only fed him what he wanted to hear? What if-
“Buck,” you repeated, pulling him from his daze and he lifted his head only slightly. You gripped his chin lightly and forced him to look you in the eye. “You’re . . . mine?”
He wanted to shake his head, to tell you that he got caught up in the moment but instead he said, “Yours,” because he knew anything else would be a lie and he was tired of lying.
You studied him and nodded, “Yours,” you stated, already rolling your eyes from the smirk forming on his face, “Unfortunately,”
He brought your face to his and planted a tender kiss on your lips. He started shifting his position and grabbed the underwear he’d been wearing earlier before pulling out and using the cloth to clean the mess pooling out of you. But not before taking a mental picture, of course.
After a few minutes of laying together, his hand playing with a few strands of hair, you felt the warm welcome of sleep beginning to drag you into its embrace. You opened your eyes groggily and looked up at Bucky who was already looking down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I know about your night terrors,” you whispered and his actions halted momentarily before returning to brush through your hair, “I hear you sometimes. And I understand why you don’t want to go to sleep but,” you sat up slowly and placed the thick blanket down on the floor, dragging the pillow down with you and patting the open space beside you, “you should rest. I’ll be here to calm you or stay up with you. Whichever one you need,”
He didn’t move at first, his ears drowning out any thought he could have while processing what you’d said. He’d stayed silent so long you’d thought you’d crossed a line.
“I can always sleep on the bed if you’d prefer, though,”
Bucky shook himself from his thoughts and edged closer to the floor, slowly descending into the available space and wrapping the blanket around the both of you as much as he could. “No,” he said, “I want you here,”
You hummed in response and snuggled into his waiting arms, lightly wrapping your own around him, making sure to kiss the part of himself he hated the most before fatigue swept you up into its clutches. Bucky followed soon after.
Summary: Bucky has a birthday party, and for some reason you weren’t invited.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: A little bit of angst, overthinking.
Author’s Notes: Sometimes I get lost in my daydreams and this is the kind of stuff I think up. Requests are absolutely open, I’d appreciate the inspiration! Clearly I need some lol I left the ending open on purpose for a potential part two in the future. (What do you think? What reason do you think Bucky would have for not inviting you?)
You paused the movie playing on the TV and strained your ears to pinpoint where the loud music was playing from. No parties from Tony were scheduled for this week, and the avengers very rarely celebrated their birthdays, although you were aware it was Bucky’s birthday a few days ago which to your knowledge, was quiet and low-key, but you also knew he wasn’t the kind of guy who would want a party. The party music was just so strange.
You pulled your socks up and adjusted your pajama shirt that had become twisted from your lazy lounging and headed towards the source of the music. It was even louder in the hallway, the floor under your feet shaking from the bass. You saw an agent stagger out from one of the rooms, she was wearing a short, revealing party dress and your curiosity grew stronger.
“What’s going on?” You asked her as she passed you. She looked drunk, and looked like she was about to pass out at any second.
“Bucky… threw one... heck of a party.” She slurred, hiccuping every few seconds and swaying on her feet as she gripped the walls of the hallway for support.
Bucky threw a party? You knew him as this really quiet and reserved guy who liked to read books in the sunniest spot in the common room and be left alone. So to hear he threw a party, it was hard to believe.
The door down the hall slammed twice and Natasha walked out laughing.
“Nat? What is going on? What’s with the loud music?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest, feeling somewhat underdressed.
“Barnes threw a party. Why didn’t you come?” She asked, eyeing you up and down and taking in your sleepwear.
That was such a good question Nat. Maybe because you didn’t even know about the stupid party. Or maybe because Bucky didn’t like you enough to give you an invite? Who knew.
“Because I wasn’t invited.” You told her through gritted teeth.
Natasha frowned and bit her lip. “Maybe he sent the invite in the mail… and it got lost?” She offered, trying to make you feel better.
“How did he invite you?”
“Oh, he uh– he asked me... verbally, a few days ago.”
A few days ago?! What the hell?
“Oh.” You were speechless, and started to feel awkward. Soon enough the door that Natasha came through opened up again, the rest of the avengers pouring out, laughing and having a great time as they joked in the hallway befo disappearing down the hall and into the metal elevator.
It was quite clear to you that Bucky not inviting you was no mistake, it seemed he invited every single human being that lived in the compound, everyone except for you. That was no accident, so then came your next question in your mind: what did you do to him to make him feel like you didn’t deserve an invite? Going to a party wasn’t your style anyway, and you most likely wouldn’t have attended but still it would have been great and appreciated to have been acknowledged by your teammate and someone you thought was a friend.
“You’re overthinking.” Natasha whispered, paying close attention to the way your eyes shift around you. She could see the cog wheels in your head spinning, trying to find any reasonable explanation for Bucky’s reasoning.
“I’m not. I’m just- enjoy the party.” You told her and turned quickly on your heels to head back into the comfort of your room. You didn’t need to be told by a hot spy that you were overthinking, you’d prefer to do it alone.
Your mood to continue watching the movie quickly disappeared. You turned the TV off and crawled under the covers of your lukewarm bed, being embraced by your blanket was a comfort that you needed right now.
“Friday, can you lock my door, please?” Your voice came out shaky and you hated it. You hated how much this bothered you, it wasn’t right and you knew sleep wouldn’t come very easily tonight.
“Yes, Agent Y/L/N.” You sighed as the clicking of the locks echoed in your room. You turned on your side and stared out into the darkness that was peeping through your parted drapes.
Yeah, Agent Romanoff was absolutely right. You were overthinking this but you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when more laughs and hollers could be heard outside. You couldn’t help it when you heard his laugh.
anon: country boy wakatoshi drives a big ugly old truck that he is perpetually “fixing up” but he opens the door for you and holds your hand to help you get in and out. and he drives you guys out to a field in the middle of nowhere to fuck you in the backseat where no one can hear
— lots of characterization and dialogue attributed to my ushijima anon. <3
‘gentle, be gentle.’
its repeated over and over again in wakatoshis head, eyes pinned to the roads he's taken over and over within the last couple of summer nights- a spot that after hours of grueling work brings him the most comfort. he doesn't really know why those words are like a singular loop in his head. it's not like he expects anything to happen, but when wakatoshi sees the gleam of your thighs underneath the dress you're wearing, he can all but hope.
he needs that reminder while you sway only a couple inches next to him, hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles are white- you look beautiful, even more so than usual.
the singular thought seems to overtake any and all other feelings and wants for the night. he thinks it might be a mistake, dangerous to have you seated in the dusty and… cracked seats of his truck, but you only smile and look at him with a soft gaze. he can't help but think that there’s ways this night could progress and to have you like he wants- like he wants you.
the roads are bumpy and by the time you two get there and wakatoshi thinks that he needs to check the suspension in his truck, still thinking as he parks. he realizes how shabby the spot is when you're here with him and that has a hot blush crawl up his neck.
it’s a space overrun by tall grass- a creek somewhere in the distance- usually the superficial things don’t really bother him, but now with you sitting there and he thinks that compared to how pretty you are, it overshadows any and all places he could possibly think to bring you.
he’s scared to turn and look at you, leaning forward to turn off his truck, unaware of a lingering and wanting gaze pinned to the muscled stretching over his arms- biceps curling, veins running up and down, all the way to his hands.
thick hands scarred and calloused from the work he does. they've turned rough and heavy- everything about him looked proportional to his height, but his hands stood out just a bit more and you couldn't really get enough of the sight.
you stare, and keep staring, even when he finally turns to look at you, face unmoving except for a hint of blush painting his cheeks. from the heat or just the situation that seems to grow more and more heavy may be the cause of it, you're not too sure.
either way, there seems to be a weight to the already muggy air you breathe, it takes what feels like minutes before he even says anything- clearing his throat with a grumble.
he apologises, of course he does. he's always been the gentleman; words just a tiny bit quieter- voice rolling deep with bass and something a little rougher. you know he says something about the scenery being too ugly, but you can’t really focus on his words.
it's easy to respond to a man so kind, so big but gentle and respectful with an almost instinctual lean towards him. hand placed over his bicep to let him know it's okay-
you weren't playing coy, anything but that, but the touch makes him go rigid. wakatoshi wants to ask you to not be so casual, but he doesn't want to come off creepy and he wouldn’t know where to start.
wondering what you would think if he told you the singular touch of your arm against him had him sweating, swallowing back the slowly bubbling lust threatening to tip over with each passing second. all he can do is lay back, legs spreading out to make himself comfortable; in his mind, shifting to lessen the tension- limbs still achy from the day, hazel eyes tracing the dirty spots on the roof of his truck before finally peering back at you.
ushijima knows his strength and stature is daunting- built for hard labor, honed to do dirty work all day, so he tries to make himself as welcoming as his imposing personality can, nothing more than the painted picture of a gentleman while he looks at you.
you had the decency to act shy, flustered at the scene unfolding before you. the reality weighing in at having such a big man sitting next to you so casually, and you nearly felt ill for responding to him with a twisting heat between your legs. trying to speak up, wanting to start conversation but not finding any thoughts, not ones that you could say out loud anyways.
“it’s hot.” he mumbles, sighing heavily through his nose before passing a rough hand up to push hair from his forehead- undercut on complete display in this angle.
“it is, but it’s nice- at least there’s a breeze.” you respond, worrying at your lower lip, nibbling on it to keep you from embarrassing yourself.
“yeah, at least there’s a breeze.”
wakatoshi doesn’t mean to be so curt and short, it’s just that you make him nervous- warmth always settling right under his navel when you come around to his house, full of bright smiles and food for him, knowing he works all day long. using this act of kindness under the guise of being a friendly neighbor- but really…
you just loved seeing him when he was all sweaty, and on lucky days- you’d even caught him shirtless, shoving whatever food you’d made for him in his general direction and hightailing it out of the vicinity to go back home and touch yourself to the image.
he sighs heavily, and it makes you feel a little guilty. he should be at home and resting- farm work is extensive and always needed and now you’ve pulled him away from precious time that could be spent recuperating that fatigue, not that he minds- but you wouldn’t know that.
“are you tired?” you question sweetly, still looking over at him with a smile. he catches the way you bite down onto your lip, wondering just how improper it’d be of him to ask you straight up if him fucking you would be a bad idea, but he holds back- swallows down any complex about being too forward, because he needs to know if you want this just as bad as he does.
“no- not with you here, it’s the opposite… the opposite.” he finalizes his words by turning towards you. lumbering form slowly straightening up in the worn seat he’s sat on, leather crackling beneath thick thighs.
there’s something insinuated between his words. you can actually catch up on it, and it brings forth an almost nervous smile, cheeks warm and neck nearly on fire with the way he says it.
“it’s the opposite for me too…” you reply, soft and still so kind. in another world maybe you’d act just a bit more coy and shy, but it’s nearly too much and you ache beneath the pretty summer dress you’ve thrown on.
“mm, is it?” wakatoshi questions, eyes finally letting themselves look at you- eyebrows furrowed, wondering if this is a game you’re playing. that somehow you’ve read his mind and are hinting at all the naughty things he wants so desperately to do to you.
but there’s no way that’s the case, and instead he lets himself long for you openly.
“what does that mean?” his voice is just a tinge heavier- once more adjusting himself in his seat to let himself get comfortable, eyebrow quirked up as a smile plays on his lips.
he’s straightforward and calculating for the most part, now he just wants to hear it come straight from your pretty lips.
if what he saw from your swaying form was correct, you were also feeling the pulsating heat of pure lust curling between your legs, just like him.
the question sends you into a babbling mess, once more going shy, but pulling through for the need to know if he’s also as desperate as you.
“well, it-it's a little improper… i’m not sure if i should say what i'm thinking.”
you confess, hands wandering down to lay against your thighs, playing with the edges of your dress to keep yourself from looking at him.
he didn’t know how he could stop himself now that the singular thought of you being needy like he is has made a home in his mind.
wakatoshi is usually so calculating and perfected in everything that he does, but this once, with the prospect of having something so sweet like you all to himself so within reach- he grabs at you.
the first touch of his warm palm against the exposed skin you’ve presented him with thanks to your fidgeting hands makes you look at him, and you know that there’s nothing but heavy lust behind his eyes.
“tell me.” ushijima near growls, no room for questioning or self doubt.
“i want you.”
it’s all he needs.
finally. finally with the confirmation that his horniness isn’t alone in the beat up truck he’s brought you here in, he lets his other hand wander up to your neck, so small compared to him- slowly sliding up until he’s pressing an index finger and thumb to either side of your face, not knowing how to treat something so soft with gentleness.
“tell me more.” he whispers before giving you the chance, statement completely rhetorical because his mouth is on yours in mere seconds.
he’s all you’ve wanted and hoped for. rough hands moving you into his lap without a care for anything in his vicinity, fitting you like you belong against him like this with each pass of his tongue against yours- growling at the warmth pulsating right over his own heavy cock.
gentle hands find purchase against his shirt when things get too heavy, holding you around the waist and slowly starting to push and pull your mass to grind tightly over his jeans. only grounded back to reality because you’ve started to mewl so nice and high- airy and shaky with each pull.
this was never going to end in just kissing and heavy grinding, so once more- wakatoshi silently apologizes to your integrity, deadset on fucking you right here and now.
“pretty girl.” ushijima speaks, equally breathless when you pull away and he’s met with the textbook definition of desperate.
eyes wide and wet, lips swollen, a singular string of spit still connecting the two of you, watching when you respond with a shake at the compliment, thighs squeezing around him.
“i need you.”
words spoken with such ease have you dizzy once more and you simply nod, unable to do anything else but nod.
his hand reaches for the door handle of his truck- the other splayed over your back when he swings a leg out, keeping you pressed sweetly, protectively, to his towering form, cradling you while he moves the both of you to his back seat.
its criminal- he thinks very quickly, that he’s going to fuck such a pretty little thing in the back of his old, dirtied, beat up truck.
but there doesn’t seem to be any complaint coming from you, watching intently at the skin slowly being revealed to him when he sets you down and your dress starts rising up, bunching at your waist like a present slowly unraveling itself all for him.
he can't begin to describe the feeling that overcomes him the second your panties peek from between thighs that have not left his hands. you're glistening- his breathing catches immediately in his throat while looking down at the patch of wetness clinging onto your panties, hands gripping your thighs with enthusiasm and little self restraint at the sight.
he grunts, it's all he can do because his cock is now straining so hard against his jeans- and he knows that if he isn’t buried to the hilt inside of you within the next couple of minutes, he’d break you in a flurry of pent up energy to try and get to your undeniably pretty pussy.
ushijima can’t bring his eyes up farther than the swell of your cunt, fingers precise in their movements, come down to hook against the hem of your soaked underwear, pulling it to the side- temptation itself crawling up his neck to lean down and have a taste, but the incessant throbbing he feels is what drives him now.
with no words uttered, wakatoshi thumbs up your cunt, an intense glare pinning your body into the seats- it feels suffocating, thighs so tempted to just squeeze around his arm twitch at the first touch, but with the way he looks like an animal starved- you know that wouldn't go down well.
“are you going to give this to me?” he asks out of nowhere, still feeling your slit up, no pressure behind his ministrations, thumb caressing everything revealed to him. he waits for the simple nod- or whisper, or even slow and desperate swirl of hips- detonating you want this as much as he does, and the second you whine out a pretty little,
“yes- yes, please.”
he swears he can see stars.
there’s no time that comes between the two of you once those words tumble out of your pouting mouth- finally letting his hands move to grasp at your hips. crowding you, leaning his big body to loom over as he lets your thighs settle on either side of him.
grasping down between the two of you to quickly unclasp his belt. the sound of metal hitting metal only further accentuating your need- body squirming beneath him in the most tempting wiggle, fumbling with the buttons of his bottoms and finally, finally pushing his underwear down.
you can't see him, but you can feel the weight of his cock finally land onto your pussy and it's nearly criminal how dizzy feeling him like this makes you. hands coming up to grab at his arms- open mouth sobbing. patience waning with the need that strikes you right in the middle of your chest. now it's your turn to act frenzied.
you want him, wanted him from the second your eyes laid on him and now his dicks drooling over your cunt.
it's so easy to fit your arms up and over his shoulders, clinging and grasping at him with fervor- pulling him onto your mass even closer, almost like you want to drown in his everything.
it draws a chuckle from deep in his chest, short lived because he wants you like you want him, letting himself sink down to press his face to your heated cheek- breathing in your scent, occupying himself while he moves his hips in a fluid motion to find your hole- not leaving any space between the two of you, and sinking inside so tight every centimeter he breeches tugs on the skin of his dick.
teeth gnash against one another when he’s stretching you out, knuckles pressed on either side of your head sink down further, crackling leather seats protesting as he brings himself down to his forearms.
“fuck- pretty little pussy.” he groans, coughed out as he bottoms out- unable to compare this moment to anything he’s ever experienced.
your keens bring him down lower, sweet and whiny just like he knew they would be, taking every little second his cock slides out of you to leave a sloppy, near opened mouth kiss to your lips- seconds away from drooling down onto your open mouth, panting out syllables that vaguely sound like his name, too twisted in pure pleasure to be really sure that its whats uttered.
“u-ushijima.” you cry, plead with him to do something about the burn encompassing your cunt, stretched full, knowing this was the outcome for this whole ordeal- but you still blink away the tears and dig your nails into his shoulders.
there’s an overwhelming need to ruin you and he can't place the want or where it comes from, only follow it head first with the first brutalizing thrust- echoing out in the backseats of his truck, squelching from such a tight cunt sticky and wet as it receives him, and seconds too late he recalls the way his name sounds, another need to hear it properly takes place and once more wakatoshi follows it like a lead.
rising to ease the pressure of his form off your chest, a strong, tanned hand settles so easily on the delicate skin of your neck- finally finding rhythm to each heavy push inside.
“say my name- properly.” he grits out, fighting the very clench of you.
there’s little resistance when he says something with such conviction- push behind every consonant, growled lowly right to your face. hand squeezing just right, thighs jumping- clamping down on his hips in response.
a sharp thrill passes through him at how well you respond- he’s not well versed in all this, didn’t know that squeezing such a pretty little thing like you between his body and the cracked seats of his beat up truck would feel this good, and now he knows it’s not something he’s ever going to give up.
he watches your back come up and off the seats- chest pressing up against him, just barely able to move and squirm with the way his cock drags in and out of your walls, it’s nearly too much, suffocating and heavy inside, you know you’re going to cum too quick.
you clung to him so easy, hands gripping at the muscles in his shoulders and biceps- burying your face into his neck in a desperate attempt to quiet embarrassing mewls.
you just couldn’t help it with how good he fucked you, listening to every squelch his big cock brings out, panting helplessly against his thick neck- it’s too much, he’s too big- but you only want more and more.
the simple action of you whining like that has ushijima realize very quickly that he can’t take not seeing you.
it’s a harsh statement- grunted out, wanting to let you know that he wants to see you come undone.
hand searching for your neck once again to press you down, unceremoniously shoving two thick fingers into your mouth, pressing down to watch you drool and pant over them. eyes glazed over and so very pliant for him, pinning you right where he wants you.
the simple act is what brings you to a teary orgasm, wailing sharply against his digits- whole body shuddering, twisting under a man that’s kept you down so good, eyes rolling back while every ridge and vein passes past the tight clutch of the pussy he’s still fucking into the shape of his massive cock.
huffing breaths leave him while your thighs twist and squeeze, while you squirt and messy his thighs, cock already gleaming with arousal slickened now in the prettiest mess he’s ever seen-
there’s no time wasted before frantic thrusts reach their crescendo- swinging down onto you, balls heavy with so much cum, swollen and pained in need to find release inside your tight cunt only further accentuate the mess you’ve made with messy slaps down onto your ass, pretty dress thoroughly wet at the hem.
groans sound nearly pained, hips lose their tempo and ushijima stills inside with a final heavy thrust that sends you skirting up the seats, enunciated with sharp wails that come from you while pump after pump of cum floods your cunt- eyes wide and teary while you look up at him, lips wobbling around his fingers still knuckle deep inside your pretty mouth.
his body trembles, slow thrusts ensure that every inch his cock is stuffed inside rubs that heavy cum into your puffy walls, gaze still pinned with lidded eyes down onto your own watery ones.
it’s funny how backwards things have become- wakatoshi smiles in realization that he’s just dumped a heavy load into your tight pussy- not even tried to woo you, falling for him as easily as he did with you.
“it’s hot.” is all he mumbles, words still shaky, vision still blurry at the edges while he looks down at you, slowly retreating thick fingers from your lips to let you gasp and speak.
“yeah- it’s hot.” is all that tumbles past a swollen mouth, giggling and starstruck. humming- listening to the mid summer bugs chirping, sweat pooling against your back, dress sticking to you every which way, but you’re comfortable and so fucked out you couldn’t do anything to lessen the heat of his own body even if you wanted to.
he leans down, tongue licking up a stray string of drool from your chin before licking into your open mouth, not able to curve the need to have you all- wanting so badly to consume your whole body in his very being, but he knows you need to rest even a little.
“you’re mine now, yes?” ushijima questions- and all you can do is nod, clench around his softening cock and squirm once more.
“yeah- ‘m yours wakatoshi.” you respond back in earnest, clipped words coming from him feel comforting, knowing he only speaks with truth and honesty, silently smiling while he pushes kisses down against your jaw-
excited to finally have something soft and pretty and so so cute to love and protect.
five months pregnant and toji does his best to fulfill his baby’s needs. cooking, cleaning, buying whatever you want. since he’s been home more frequently, he’s taken notice how careless you've become with showing your body, your pregnancy making you hotter so the clothes are slim to none. one thing he cannot fucking take is how plump you’ve gotten everywhere. mainly your tits.
FUCK, there's no fucking way. It's only been five months into your pregnancy, there's no way you should be this fucking thick. It's after midnight now, one of the many repercussions of being pregnant was having a hard time falling asleep early. Toji fed you well, or he should say the two of you, craving vodka penne pasta with shrimp and Italian sausage—without the vodka, unfortunately. Currently, you're in the bathroom getting ready for bed, playing your music as you sing to yourself, applying lotion to your breasts as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Toji is witnessing this all, laying in bed originally watching tv while waiting for you to finish, but caught glimpse of you and immediately lost interest.
He's been trying to hide his erection ever since you walked out of the living room leaving the dishes to him. Ever since he took paternity leave, he's been noticing how careless you've become with clothing, slim to none at this point. Oversized shirt and shorts turned to shorts and tank tops with no bra, and finally thin slip-on nightgowns that were way too tight, hugging your curves. He doesn't know if you're teasing him or you were genuinely uncomfortable in clothing now. He never asked. Seeing you so plumped up now, face fat, hips wider, tits flourishing. He wants them in his mouth so badly his jaw aches. When's the last time he's touched you? Maybe two weeks ago? He can't even remember that. It was long ago.
He swears he doesn't want to disrupt your peace, humming to your favorite song and smiling endearingly at your stomach—but he couldn't take it any longer. The man was pulsating below, precum leaking from the tip and he'll be damned if he hid in a room and jerked off like some teenager when you were here, already naked, warm, and lathered in body cream he could smell from the bedroom. This carnal desire to have you was fucking him up.
He approaches you with just a robe on, enigmatic figure entering the dimly lit room, the only light gleaming from the candles. You don't see him, more like hear him and his heavy footsteps, bopping your head to the tune. You feel when his long fingers tangle through your scalp, clasping your hair in his hold. He doesn't mean to be feverish about it, pulling your head back causing a gasp to fall from your parted lips, connecting eyes inside the mirror. They're iniquitous, and that glare you familiarized yourself with is the reason why you're pregnant now.
It's best you stay silent until he spoke first. His sable hair falls over his eyes just a bit, lips pressed in a firm line before you see him stare directly at your chest within the mirror, a prominent moan coming out from the back of his throat, raspy and needy.
"When did they get that fucking swollen?"
The air from his heaving hits the side of your neck, face heating up when you feel his dick press against your back, hard as a rock, visibly twitching.
"For a few days, I think they're finally filling with milk," you say innocently.
"God, don't say that," Toji hisses, taking both of his rough palms and gliding them around your waist, trailing them up to grab at your tits, heavier than before. Toji makes a pained noise, swiftly turning you around and pressing you up against the sink, your eyes wide with curiosity the moment he bends his head to suck at your collarbone, kissing and leaving any sort of mark. Your puffy lips widen, clutching the nape of his neck as he attacks your chest, his thigh right between your legs with his cock resting on your stomach.
One jerk of your hips he has his hands over to pull you closer and your clit is brushing against his thigh, sinking your teeth into your lip as he latches his hot mouth around your nipples, giving you small kitten licks before sucking and rolling his tongue around, all the while observing as you writhe before him.
"Toji," you whine, gyrating your hips to ride his thigh, barely needing it with how much pleasure you were enduring just from his mouth in your chest. "They're too sensitive."
Still, he doesn't say anything. Upholding his brutal attack on your swollen tits. The way he licks them, teasingly slow with a hint of roughness has you clutching his hair now, moaning and tossing your head back. He's rolling his tongue, sucking them in his mouth, and rocking you forward to grind on his thigh.
"Fuck, wait—ah," this feeling is so dissimilar, the heat rushing to your skull and your clit throbbing with every lick he gave. Toji notices you're holding your breath, eyes filling with tears before you find yourself cumming, arousal coating your inner thighs and his knee. He groans as if thankful, never stopping as you twitch and cry out, using both hands to shove him closer. This is the first time you've ever came like this, your head spinning, admirable yet disoriented.
Toji lets you go with a lewd pop, saliva adorning your chest. He stands to his full height with lust in his eyes, finding that extremely fucking hot he nearly came right then and there. He licks his lips, grabbing your chin to tilt it upward before sucking on your lips, sticking his tongue in, and kissing you passionately, wet lips smacking.
"Be a good girl and let daddy fill you up," he pants, too hazy to respond to him. You're still in shock that that happened, and that fast. "Wanna cum so deep inside your pretty pussy. That's my fuckin' baby in there, right here. You're lucky, I'd give you another right now if I could."
Toji continues to kiss you, words becoming gibberish at this point, slurring his words and sloppily mouthing your entire body, mostly your neck since he knows that's your weak spot. He's so lost in having every part of you in his mouth that you're forced to grab his slim waist and push him away, seeing how puffy and red his lips were now.
"My feet hurt," you pout and whine.
"Sorry," he forgets, gathering his sanity for only a few seconds to lift you bridal style and carry you to the bedroom safely. By now his robe is off, and you pull off your own, skin feeling sticky and hot, definitely needing another shower after this. Biting at your nails, you follow Toji as he gathers two big pillows and sets them in front of you, pulling you to sit on your knees, the pillows a barrication for your belly. You beam sweetly at the gesture.
"Comfortable?" He asks with concern, stroking your cheek. You nod. "Good. I can't hold off."
Toji stands behind you, facing ahead and wrapping his forearm around your throat, putting you in a gentle chokehold, not too hard to make you nauseous. Both of you are at the edge of the bed, comfortably leaning forward into the pillows while Toji's free arm balances himself by flattening his hand on the mattress. It's not long after until he's sheathing his cock deep into you, his eyes scrolling to his skull when you claw at his arm and choke out his name, pressing your ass back to fully bring him in.
"Shit," he gasps, stilling his hips and grinding into you, your slickness encircling the area of the room. "Gonna fuck you now, okay?"
"Hurry," you croak, feeling another orgasm nearing, the pillows in front of you stimulating your soppy clit even more. You bite into his arm, screaming as he rotates his hips and fucks you hard, grunting by your ear and grumbling all sorts of expletives.
"Fuckk, fuck me, baby," he's dragging out his moans, grounding his cock feverishly, dropping forward with you and panting by your ear, your face pressed into the bed as you scream and cum harder than you've had in a while, drenched cunt gushing around his cock, eventually squirting, reaching behind you to tug at his hair and ride out your orgasm, twitching and babbling words he could barely hear.
If it were any other time, he'd be ashamed for reaching his high so quickly, but being as though he's had blue balls for hours, hell, even days—he didn't give a shit now for cumming as hard as he did, whimpering like a bitch as you wet the bed and soaked his thighs, still humping against you like a wolf in heat. Satisfying your needs and his own by filling you with his cum as he promised, cock jumping into you the more you tensed, Toji soothing your shaky body with gentle kisses and belly rubs.
"I'm way too sensitive now," the both of you laugh as you lift your head with teary eyes, catching your breath and humming to ease your heart, Toji not wanting to pull out, feeling too comfortable, ready to fall asleep just like this but he knows he needed to give you water asap.
"Don't move," he's wrong, your grip on his arm keeping him still.
"You'll vomit if you don't drink something. You know how you get."
"I'm okay, I promise," smiling weakly, you pull him along with you as you turn on your side, fully facing each other, truly spent. "Stay inside me."
Toji groans, pecking your lips. "Don't have to tell me twice."
Summary: The morning after Bucky threw a party, you confront him but it doesn’t go according to plan.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Warnings: more angst, arguing, Bucky is an asshole, language, not proof read, mistakes are my own!
Author’s Notes: Wow. I absolutely can not believe the support on part one! I’m so happy you guys liked it, and of course I’m always happy to give people what they want and since so many of you asked for part two, here it is! Really hope you won’t be disappointed, please let me know what you think. And don’t worry, there WILL be a part three. This isn’t the end!!
As you had predicted, you got no sleep. Your night consisted of you tossing and turning and occasionally groaning loudly into your pillow.
Your pillow was your closest friend, it captured your falling tears, and provided you with comfort when you couldn’t rest. The morning sun was pouring through your parted drapes, a new day was beginning and you knew you definitely wouldn’t be getting any sleep now.
Lazily, you threw the blankets off of you and sat on the edge of your bed, your palms on either side of you, digging into the mattress. Bucky not inviting you to his party shouldn’t have bothered you, but for some reason, it did. It was the reason you got no sleep, and you were annoyed by how Nat and your friends treated you last night. They were laughing and you couldn’t help but feel like they were laughing at you, even if they weren’t. Today would be the day you would confront Bucky, no matter what. But first, you needed a hot shower to try and wash away the tension that was rolling off your shoulders.
The shower itself would have taken a good ten minutes on a good day, but you spent almost an hour on the shower floor with your knees tucked under your chin and fresh tears disappearing under the shower head. Pathetic, you told yourself. Crying over something that wasn’t even your fault. How dare he treat you this way and make you feel broken. Speak of the devil, through the sounds of your cries and the water cascading down around you, your thoughts snapped back to reality when you heard his laugh from the hallway again.
Enough was enough with his games, you needed to know why you didn’t get an invite, it was just a simple little question.
Standing up off the shower floor with shaky legs, you turned off the shower and stepped out to grab the towel off the rail and pat yourself dry. In your haste to get dressed, your clothes were mismatched and your sweater was turned inside out. You didn’t care about that though, you needed to speak with Bucky. You needed answers.
You left your room and followed the sounds of the chatter coming from the common room. Your feet quickly carried you there, stopping in the doorway and noticing the room was completely trashed from last night’s shenanigans.
Broken glass was scattered over the marble floors, there were literally hundreds of solo cups all over the tables, there was even a broken window.
What the hell happened here? You wondered, stepping into the room, being careful not to tread on glass.
“Watch your feet!” Bucky warned, holding his hands up to halt your footsteps. “There’s glass everywhere.”
“No shit.” You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest and rolling your eyes. You heard him click his tongue as he worked on sweeping up the glass. “I heard you had a party?”
“Uh yeah, just some close friends and stuff.” He shrugged, and ouch if that didn’t fucking hurt.
“Really? I didn’t know you were– were close friends with people from…. statistics?” Anger was rushing through your veins, his nonchalant attitude wasn’t making this any easier and neither was the lack of sleep. You wondered what had happened to the sweet guy you knew. The shy Bucky who couldn’t even make himself a sandwich because he was afraid of being mocked by the other avengers. Or the Bucky that loved to sip herbal tea at 3 in the morning. Where did that Bucky go? Who is this Bucky? It was like a switch flipped and he changed overnight.
“What is this about, Y/N? You walk in here with some kind of an attitude problem and I’m tired, it’s early and I’m not in the mood.” He snapped and that was it for you. If he was tired, you were something else.
You stepped into the room regardless of the broken glass still all over the floor, not caring if any shards cut your feet as you stand toe to toe with Bucky. You shove him, but not surprised when he doesn’t budge.
“Where was my invite? What did I do to you to make you forget about me? It shouldn’t even be a big deal but–”
“Then stop making it a big deal! Is that what this is really about huh? It was my party and I invited the people I wanted to be there!”
“Wha– but you invited everyone but me!” You cried, your voice breaking at the end.
“Then maybe that tells you something.” He offers no sympathy to your state of distress. At least not to your face, it’s when you turn your back and he hears you cry harder does his own heart break. He didn’t mean for this to happen and the Black Widow’s footsteps behind him is about to remind him of his mistakes.
“You’ve really messed this up Barnes. I’m not sure Y/N will ever forgive you.” Bucky turns to look at Nat. Guilt and anger written all over his face.
“You don’t think I know that?! I did it to protect Y/N!”
“Well, what are you gonna do about it?”
“I don’t know.”
The day away from the compound was exactly what you needed. The air was refreshing and cold, biting against your skin. It helped to clear your thoughts that were running in circles since you talked to Bucky. You still didn’t have a clear answer as to why he chose not to invite you, and that bothered you more than anything, but what he did say replayed in your mind. You suppose he had a point, it was his party and up to him who he chose to invite but it confused you because you thought you were on good terms with Bucky. Did you get it wrong? Where did it all go wrong?
Your fingers wrapped around the mug as you sat in the corner of the quiet coffee shop with a friend as they watched you watch the world go by.
“Okay, what’s going on?” They asked, blowing into the hot liquid before taking a quick sip.
A deep sigh fell from between your lips. Your body and mind felt exhausted, it was hard to concentrate.
“I don’t even know. I feel like I’m overreacting.” You shrugged, licking your lips and looking into your coffee as if seeking the answers to your unanswered questions.
“Overreacting? Did something happen on the mission you just got back from?”
“No, no. Something that happened after that. You know Bucky, right?”
“Bucky Barnes?” They asked with a raised eyebrow. You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. “What about him?”
“I just– I– would you be honest with me and tell me if I’m overreacting?” You bit your lip nervously and your friend nodded.
“Of course! Tell me everything.”
True to their word, your friend sat and listened to every single word without interruptions or sassy remarks. They didn’t stop to ask you questions, and they didn’t make you feel pathetic like you felt. Talking about it out loud made you feel stupid, maybe it was stupid to get angry over something so small. That maybe deep down Bucky had a good reason not to invite you. Maybe you just weren’t close to him after all.
“I’m so stupid, aren’t I?” You shrugged, the wooden table becoming more of an interest.
“You’re not stupid. He’s stupid but I think he likes you.” Your head snapped up and so did your eyebrows.
“You’re insane! Didn’t you hear what I just said?”
“Of course I did!” They defended with a smirk, “and here’s what we’re gonna try.”
Your friend’s idea was so stupid and this dress was far too tight for your liking. You felt like your your body was spilling out at the seams, a complete opposite to what you were used to wearing: comfortable clothing or pajamas.
Walking in heels was another problem for you. Any second now, you were sure you were gonna have to call Dr Cho because you had somehow broken your neck. However, after a few laps around your room, you felt confident enough to walk a few blocks in them. Grabbing a purse and a jacket from your closet, you staggered out of your room and into Bucky’s chest.
“Whoa there, you alright?” He asked, pushing you away from him. He eyed you up and down, making you feel naked under his gaze.
“Why wouldn’t I be? And what are you doing here? Outside my door?” You folded your arms across your chest, big mistake as it pushed your cleavage together and with the height difference, Bucky had a pretty good view. He was a gentleman though and kept (or tried) to keep his eyes glued to your face.
“I came to apologize. Where are you going dressed like that?”
“It’s a bit late for an apology. I got your message loud and clear from this morning.” You scoffed. “And I’m going out with my real friends, not that it’s any of your damn business.”
“A party?” He wondered, his jaw clenching at the thought of you dancing with other people that weren’t him.
“Yes, and you’re not invited.” You smirked, turning on your heels and walking towards the waiting elevator, ignoring his calls of your name.
Bucky watched as the metal doors closed, his hands tugged his hair so hard he was afraid he would rip it out. He’s fucked up, Natasha was right. There was no way of fixing this.
“Fuck!” He yelled, kicking a hole in the wall next to your door.
Summary: Spencer is incredibly touch-starved and hard on himself since coming home from prison. Luckily, the medical examiner in this small town is really good at reading people, and exactly what he needs.
warnings: mentions of cases, insecurity issues, female reader, smut, blowjobs, riding, praise, emotional hurt/comfort. emotional sex, strangers to lovers, hook-ups,
word count: 5.8k
They had been in New Mexico for almost a week, solving a series of murders that seemed to have no end in sight. There was nothing they could do but go back to their hotels to sleep, hoping there’d be a connection in the morning.
Spencer and JJ were sharing a room as the small town hotel didn’t have accommodations for everyone that was visiting to help with the case. They didn’t mind, it was like a long sleep-over.
They did their own thing, kept their space and Spencer really did enjoy overhearing her on FaceTime with her kids. It was refreshing happiness in the middle of the madness murder sadness and despair they were swallowed by.
When his phone rang at 6 am, just shortly after he returned to his room for a quick rest, he sighed deeply, “Dr. Reid.”
“I’m so sorry to do this to you, but another body dropped and I need you to go to the ME,” Prentiss explained softly down the line. “It’s weirder than the other’s and you’re the only person who would be able to work it out with the examiner.”
“I’m on it,” he replied with a tightlipped smile. He hung up and looked over at JJ, already peacefully asleep on her bed. He closed the door softly on his way out, not wanting to disturb her any further.
At the other end of the hallway, Spencer stood and waited for the elevator. It seemed to be taking forever, everything he was doing lately dragged on and on with no end in sight. He was exhausted, still struggling with his PTSS, just all around not having the best time.
He was in the middle of rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when the elevator opened with an equally tired woman waiting inside. “Hi,” she said before covering her mouth to yawn, “sorry.”
“I get it,” he smiled as he stepped inside. “Lobby?”
“Yes please,” she smiled. “Are you here for the case too?”
“Uh, yes,” he answered softly, “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, with the FBI.”
“Oh, hi! I’m Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, the medical examiner,” her face lit right up. “Agent Prentiss said you’d be joining me I just didn’t think this quickly.”
She was adorable, bubbly and happy in a way he envied. He missed the feeling of random giddiness, smiling at her as he felt the butterflies swirl in his stomach. “Do you need a ride? I have an SUV from the bureau.”
“Yeah,” her smiled got bigger. “That would be really nice.”
They walked closely together through the lobby and towards the parking structure, he hit the unlock button a few times while trying to figure out which SUV his keys matched to. Finally getting in and watching her climb in the passenger seat.
“Do you know anything yet about the body?” Spencer asked as he turned on the ignition.
“Yeah hold on,” she pulled her iPad out of her bag and started sliding through emails.
“Your tech girl sent me the initial police reports, witness statements and overview,” she began to explain. “Like the others, she’s a 25-year-old female, blond, blue-eyed, athletic.”
“Prentiss said it was a weird one?” Spencer added.
“They think she was embalmed before the unsub staged her,” Y/N added with a tone of disgust on her voice. “Do you have your tech girl’s number?”
“Yeah, hold on,” Spencer dug his phone from his pocket and dialled the number.
“Penelope Garcia, the 8th wonder of the world at your service,” she answered after just one ring. “How are you doing on this fine morning, my fine furry friend?”
“Not so hot,” Spencer replied. “I’m with the ME right now on the way to the body, she has a question for you.”
“Oh hello, ask away.”
Y/N was smiling on the front seat, enjoying the show they put on for her. “Um, hi I was wondering if you could look into anyone in this town buying embalming equipment, or if any has been stolen from the funeral home? This town is so under-resourced already, I don’t know where this guy could get this stuff.”
“Absolutely, I’ll add that to my parameters,” Garcia’s voice was lovely and soft. “I’ll call you back if I find anything!”
“She’s lovely,” Y/N exclaimed as Spencer place his phone back in his pocket.
“Yeah, she is.”
Spencer pulled into the morgue’s parking lot, the lights were all on and the Coroners van was parked by the loading doors. Inside there was just 1 officer, waiting beside a body bag as Spencer and Y/N walked in.
The officer gave them both a quick rundown of the crime scene findings, as well as information about where all the equipment was before leaving them to their work.
“Have you ever examined a body?” Y/N asked Spencer.
He nodded, “I’ve been present during a few, held some organs, but I’ve never done one myself.”
“They’re pretty gnarly,” She scrunched her face and giggled. “Let’s get you all geared up.”
She handed him a hairnet, a white plastic suit, goggles and a mask. “Gloves are on the wall, pick your size.”
He felt like a lunch lady standing beside her, taller than her by almost a foot, dressed in all white with a hairnet. He could tell she was smiling at him under her mask, her eyes gleamed up at him in a way that made his heart melt.
He had to remind himself multiple times that this was nowhere close to the time appropriate to want to flirt with someone. They were about to examine a dead body, and potentially solve a case. There would be time to flirt later.
But he was just so amazed by how she worked, being able to tell everything that was going on by just looking at the body. Making notes on her own and only occasionally explaining things to Spencer. In her own little world, solving the puzzle with expertise.
“The other 4 vics were just strangled and staged, dressed up and left in different areas around town,” she ran the case down more for herself, needing to hear the words to make a connection.
“Yes,” Spencer followed her train of thought, tilting his head as he listened.
“She was murdered, embalmed, staged and sexually assaulted. His MO is completely different and it’s only been 2 days since the last body dropped. I think he’s found his signature,” She explained her thoughts. “His sexual aspect comes out only when they’re dead and cold, we’re dealing with a necrophile.”
“While most serial killers start with small animals before moving on to humans, he started with women and then eventually grew to what he really wanted. That’s what we were missing,” Spencer’s eyes lit up.
“He’s a lot younger than you hypothesized in the original profile,” She added.
“You read it?”
She nodded, “yeah I like to know what you’re looking at to see if I have answers.”
“This is really going to help us,” Spencer smiled, his eyes mimicking hers now.
“I can finish up here if you want to go back to your team? I can get a cab,” She offered. “Go catch this guy.”
“Okay,” Spencer said, backing up from the table and taking his equipment off. Placing them in the hazmat garbage. “Are you sure?”
“Yes Dr. Reid, I’ll be fine,” She laughed. “Can I call you if anything comes up?”
He smiled again, “call me even if something doesn’t.” He dug a contact card out of his pocket and placed it on top of her purse. Waving as he walked out of the room.
He thought about her smile for the rest of the afternoon, leaving his findings with Prentiss before heading back to his room to sleep for a few hours.
He finally found his way back into the police department 5 hours later, coffee in hand as he tried to absorb all the new information. They had a lead, stolen embalming equipment from a funeral home a few towns over was reported 4 days ago.
He stayed back during the apprehension of the suspect. Simmons, Lewis and Rossi were closer and they didn’t think the unsub would be dangerous. No one was missing and he wasn’t expecting them, should be easy to get him to come in for some questions.
Much like the rest of this case, it didn’t go to plan. They found another woman in his home, having to shoot him in the process. Ending the spree, ridding the world of a necrophile. It just didn’t feel like justice was served when another person had to die.
Spencer sat on his bed, calming down slightly from the end of the case. Saving a woman, killing a murderer, it was all a lot to process in such a short time.
JJ was in her bed on the other side of the room, scrolling through Facebook as she looked at photos of her kids. It was a much easier way for her to calm down, remembering that she could go home to pure, unadulterated happiness at the end of a case.
They heard a small knock on the door, Spencer volunteered to answer, opening it only a small amount as he looked out.
“Oh, hi,” surprised to see Y/N behind the door.
“Would you like to come and drink with me?” She asked, holding up a bottle in her hand. “In my room,” she added.
“Yeah, yes um, hold on,” he closed the door on her softly.
“Who’s that?” JJ smirked at him.
“My friend,” he replied quickly, running to the bathroom to look at his hair and fix his shirt. “I’ll be back later.”
He grabbed his wallet, making sure he had a condom first, before opening the door only a small amount to slip out into the hall. Hiding Y/N from JJ as she tried to look out the door.
“Sorry, my co-worker and I are sharing,” he explained.
“It’s okay,” she smiled, heading towards the stairs. “I’m just a floor up, and the elevator takes a million years.”
Spencer held the door for her, watching her head up the stairs as he noticed the bottle in one of her hands and her shoes in the other. She walked up the steps in her socks, exhausted from the day.
“Did you get any sleep?” She asked him softly as she kept climbing the steps.
“A few hours, did you?”
“Yeah,” she laughed, “I woke up just before they called about the body this morning.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to just go to bed? You’ve been working for 12 hours,” Spencer worried for her.
She reached the door for floor 3, pulling it open with the hand she held her shoes in, “Sleep is the for weak.”
He laughed lightly, “do you want me to hold anything?”
“Here,” she handed him the bottle, “thanks.”
She dug the keycard from her pocket as he followed her towards the right door. Excitement bubbled in his chest as she opened the door and welcomed him inside.
It was exactly like his room downstairs, only there was just 1 queen bed and a few couches by the window. She set her things down on the bed, sighing deeply as she sat on the edge.
“Do you have any cups or mugs?” Spencer asked, reminding her that he was holding the alcohol still.
“Yeah, on the bar table over there,” she pointed. “I’m just going to change in the bathroom quickly, you can pour yourself a drink.”
“Okay,” he smiled awkwardly as he crossed the room.
She dug through her suitcase quickly. Spencer saw from the corner of his eye as she took out some shorts and a shirt, not even slightly worried about being so casual in front of a complete stranger.
He inspected the bottle, it was just a cheap scotch, nothing too special. He poured about an inch of the golden liquid into two cups, not a big fan of drinking but tonight he felt a little risky.
She came back looking more refreshed, very cozy, and still breathtakingly beautiful. He hadn’t felt this way about someone in a long time, the tightening in his chest as he wondered where the night was going to go.
Not to mention the longing he felt.
Even before prison, he wasn’t one to spend a lot of nights alone with a beautiful stranger. The added isolation in his life changed him on a fundamental level, he realized just how much he craved contact, and just how much he’s deprived himself over the years from both men and women. He just wanted to be loved properly.
He silently handed her one of the cups, smiling at each other softly as they tapped cups. Taking the whole drink, “oh, yep that was exactly what I needed.” Y/N’s eyes watered as her face scrunched up, coughing a bit.
Spencer felt the same, only being able to hide it a bit better. The burn was nice on his throat, it made him feel alive. “Did you want to order some food or anything or?”
She laughed, “that would be the smart and responsible thing to do.”
“Are you okay?” He asked softly.
She looked up at him, her shoulders dropping as she released the tension in her body. Looking into his eyes with care, it was so different from the way his co-workers looked at him. She didn’t think he was broken, she had to reason to believe he was even damaged.
“Yeah,” she smiled, placing her hand on his chest as she stepped in closer to him. “Do you like mushrooms on pizza?” She giggled, even this close to him with every opportunity to kiss him, she chose to just make him smile. Something that didn’t happen too often lately.
“I do, it’s my favourite topping actually.”
She took his tie in her hands and dragged him to the couch, “I enjoy topping sometimes too.”
She sat down on the couch and looked up at him, waiting for him to sit beside her. Patting the cushion beside herself while he swallowed sharply, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, making her smirk.
“I won’t bite Spencer,” she laughed finally. “I’m sorry if that was too much?”
“No,” he said, sitting down beside her quickly. “No, it’s fine honestly, I’m just not used to it.”
“Too busy with the FBI to find anyone to hit on you?”
He shook his head softly, pushing his hair out of his face. “I uh, I was framed for murder and in prison for 3 months. I haven’t really had a conversation with anyone I don’t work with in a while.”
“Oh,” she didn’t look surprised or scared. “That makes sense.”
“You’re soft,” she leaned in to press her hand against his chest once more, eye level with him now. Seeing his eyes dart from her lips to her eyes every few seconds as he licked his lips. “You don’t look like you want to hurt anyone, but something about your aura is changing. You know how to protect yourself now, and you’re stuck thinking you’re still in danger.”
“How can you tell all that just from looking at me?” He asked softly.
“If I showed up at any other man’s door with a bottle of alcohol and the offer of a night alone, I would have been pushed against that door the second we got here,” she explained. “You respect me, almost a little too much.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” His face was soft and curious and proving her point.
“You see me as a person, but I can tell you’re touch starved. Every time I get close to you, it’s like you don’t want me to move away,” her voice was barely a whisper as she leaned in even closer to him.
She could feel his breath on her face, her nose was close enough to brush against his as she stared at his lips, “but you won’t make the first move. You want to protect me from you.”
He nodded his head lightly before rubbing the tip of his nose against hers and making her smile. He let out a sigh, relaxing his shoulders as she straddled his lap, leaning him back against the couch. He bit the bullet and let his hands rest on her hips, looking at her softly in the hopes it was okay.
“Tell me?” She begged, holding his tie in her hands, running it through her fingers as she waited. “What do you want? What you miss? Let me be that for you,” she begged.
“Anything,” he finally tells her. “Just touch me.”
She loosened his tie, freeing his neck finally. She slowly undoes every single button on his shirt, untucking the hem from his pants as she opens it up.
Her fingers are warm on his skin, but he still gasps at the touch. Her fingers were so soft, like angel kisses as the pads of her fingers traced the skin. Gliding over every freckle, raking through his chest hair, bumping along the barely-there abs.
His thumbs rubbed against her bare thighs, where he held her lightly. “You can touch me too,” she whispered.
His hands travelled up to her waist, he gently pulled her in closer. No longer resting on his legs, but pressed close to his chest. Her hands landed on his shoulders, looking down at him with nothing but pure lust as her breathing hitched.
She cupped his face, gliding her thumbs along his cheeks softly as she stared at his lips. He opened his mouth to breathe, his bottom lip was plump and beautiful and she couldn’t help herself from rubbing her thumb over it.
He kissed her thumbprint before taking it in his mouth, sucking on it softly making her hips buck into his lightly. The suction on her thumb was more erotic than she expected, the feel of his hot mouth, his wet tongue swirling around it before he let her go with a pop.
She accidentally let out a moan that excited him, “like that?”
She immediately felt her heartbeat in her clit, she nodded feverishly. Suddenly at a loss for words, wondering where this Spencer suddenly came from.
“How far are we taking this?” He asked softly. “We can stop and order that pizza at any time?”
There he was, the soft and sweet man that she brought here in the first place. “Pizza is even better after sex,” she couldn’t stop the giggle from erupting from her, even as she bit her lip.
He smiled at her like she was the world. A complete stranger making him feel more than anyone had in the last year. “I’m going to need longer than it takes to deliver a pizza,” he admitted.
“Luckily they’re open late,” she compromised, leaning in and finally kissing him.
It was soft at first, then he pulled her in even closer. She was chest to chest with him as he breathed her in deeply. She melted into his grasp as if he had just stolen her soul right out of her body.
She was his now.
She kept his face in her hands, holding him as he broke the kiss to explore her jaw. Kissing every inch of her neck and chest as she gripped his hair, making him moan as she used her nails to comb through the long locks.
“Does that feel nice?” She cooed, running her nails along his scalp as he tilted his head back.
“My favourite thing,” he explained as he closed his eyes, letting her repeat the same motion again and again.
He looked so peaceful, running his hands over her back and sides softly as she massaged him. She leaned in and kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose, both eyelids and his forehead.
He wanted her to touch him everywhere, her delicate touch made him feel worthy for once. Every self-hatred of his washed from his body as she explored him with care, care only one would receive if they were a most prized possession.
He felt loved.
It was overwhelming, he didn’t realize a tear had slipped down his cheek until she was wiping it from his skin. Shushing him softly before kissing him quickly on the lips.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, embarrassed.
“It’s okay, what’s on your mind beautiful?” She asked softly as she brushed through his hair once more.
“I just,” he looked in her eyes ever so innocently. “I’m not used to feeling cared for, no one pays attention to me this way.”
“That’s shameful,” she looked utterly perplexed. “Look at you? You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, you’re powerful. You’re kind and lovely and soft?”
“But I’m also weird and too much to handle,” he interjected.
“Not to me,” she corrected him. “this morning you could have said nothing in the elevator, you could have driven by yourself and awkwardly waited till I was finished my work. But you didn’t, you had a conversation with me, you helped me many times, you cared about me making it back here safely and you didn’t even know me. You’re a special kind of person Doctor Reid, and anyone who doesn’t see it is an idiot.”
He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile and furrowed his brow, “do you ever give out parts of yourself to everyone because you know how hard it is to feel appreciated?”
“All the time,” she laughed softly. “But not now.”
“Me either,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
“I’ll make you a deal, you tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done and I’ll tell you mine,” she offered. “Even the playing field.”
“Right now you think I’m super nice and kind right? And I just told you how I feel about you, but you hate yourself and outside of here I hate myself too. Share a secret, we can be fucked up together,” she smiled.
“In order to keep myself safe in prison, I poisoned a batch of heroin and almost killed a lot of people,” he responded without thinking.
“Okay,” she was a little shocked that he gave in so fast. “One time I stabbed a guy who tried to touch me after I pushed him off me twice already. He didn’t die, it barely even went in.”
“Both are technically self-defence,” he shrugged.
“See?” She smiled. “You’re not as bad and scary as you think you are. You’re smart and cunning.”
“Are you sure you’re not a therapist?” He teased her, “because this has been better for me than any therapy appointment I’ve ever gone to.”
She laughed again, kissing him softly. “I think it would be against the rules for your therapist to do this, I guess that’s why some men cheat.”
“How so?” He just liked listening to her speak.
“It’s easier to be open with someone you’ll never see again than it is with your therapist or wife because there are no consequences. They can’t judge you or hold anything against you, they do what you paid them for and they leave,” she explained herself.
“I’d like to see you again,” his voice barely a whisper. “If you’d like that?”
She nodded softly, “maybe I’ll move back to Virginia, finally.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“Born and raised. I moved to Albuquerque with my girlfriend 5 years ago, and she left me about 2 years ago now,” Y/N explained. “I liked my job too much to move all the way back there and start over.”
“I can put in a good word for you where ever you want,” he offered before he could stop himself from looking too desperate.
“I’ll look into it,” she smiled.
He kissed the centre of her chest again before pulling her into a hug. Hearing her heart beating in her chest softly as she pressed her cheek to the top of his head and rubbed her hand over his back. Soothing him so completely, he felt beyond amazing.
And then she was gone, pulling back from him and standing up. “Wh-?” Before he could even ask, she was lifting her shirt off.
He stared at her breasts, eyes wide and jaw dropped. She walked over to the bar, taking another shot before she pushed her shorts down and climbed onto the bed. Completely naked in under a minute.
He stood then, pushing the opened shirt off his shoulders and immediately undoing his belt. He took a condom from his wallet before kicking off his shoes, dropping his pants and underwear to the floor and stepping out of them.
She was laying back against the pillows when he crawled over her, resting his naked body against hers ever so slightly. She just smirked as she looked up at him, “hi.”
“Hello,” he whispered.
“What do you want?” She asked.
He kissed her softly on the lips, or at least he planned to. Y/N wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him down against her. Swiping her tongue across his bottom lip, begging to make out with him, finally.
Grabbing and tugging at each other as everything started to heat up, she could feel his erection against her leg as he ground down on her. Sucking on his tongue, lightly making him moan into her mouth.
His hair kept tickling her face, every time she’d push it away it would just fall right back against her skin. She pulled him off by his hair, gasping for air as they stared at each other again.
“Can I be on top?” She asked lightly.
He wrapped his arms under her, holding her close as he rolled over. Watching her settle more onto her knees as she sat on his hips. “Better?”
“Much,” she said as she sat up, taking a hairband off her wrist and putting her hair up. Raising her arms in a way that made her tits perk up. He reached up and cupped them, rubbing his thumb lightly across her nipples before giving them a squeeze.
She just laughed as she finished her ponytail, “having fun?”
“Absolutely,” he smiled up at her.
His hands followed the curve of her body, from her boobs to her waist and down over her hips. She was stunning, confident, everything he ever wanted and more.
She found the condom in the sheets, the bright purple packaging making it easy to see. She played with it in her hands, seeing how long it would take before he got desperate, but he never did.
“How long have you had this?” She asked, trying to tease him.
“Not long,” he was honest. “I just got out of prison, remember?”
“So you haven’t had sex since before you went in?” She looked excited.
She smiled, “so I’m taking your free man’s virginity.”
“I don’t think that’s a thing?”
“It is now,” she giggled before leaning down to kiss him once more.
Trailing kisses down his neck, stopping only to suck a mark near his Adam’s apple. Hearing the sweet little gasps he made every time her tongue came in contact with his skin. She kissed his clavicle, his shoulder and down his chest. Making her way across his abs and over his lower tummy.
He gripped the sheets, not knowing what she had planned or where she was going. Spreading his legs, she kissed his groin, his right hip bone and the inside of his thighs. He couldn’t believe it, the way she explored him so delicately.
She ignored his cock for a while, kissing and sucking at any and all the visible skin she could find. He felt her smile against his thigh then, getting closer and closer before she took his cock in her hand and kissed the base.
He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, settling into the bed like water filling a glass, he was liquid in her hands. Her mouth was a blessing and she chose him to worship.
“Fuck,” he moaned as she took all of him as far as she could. Dragging her tongue along the shaft as she pulled back up. Swirling her tongue around the tip before taking him all the way in once more.
She pulled off with a pop, sitting up now with his dick still in her hands. She tore the condom open with her teeth, taking the package off and rolling it over him.
His dick bounced back against his stomach when she let go of it, hard enough that it had a mind of its own now. She bit her lip as she lifted herself over him more, setting herself down softly where it laid against him.
The head of his cock brushed her clit as she ground down on him, his hands found her hips once more as he instinctively helped her find a rhythm.
He could feel how wet she was, the way she glided over him so easily. Her breath hitching every time her hips bucked, she was enjoying herself. It made him even more excited. She leaned back down then, kissing his neck once more as she continued to push down on him.
“I need you,” Spencer gasped.
She smiled against his skin, lifting her hips enough for him to line up with her before she started to sink down on it. He watched himself disappear inside of her, feeling the way she took him in like he was always meant to be there.
“Fuck,” she gasped as she sat down fully, her hands resting on Spencer’s stomach as she tried to get used to it all. Listing herself up and down little by little to get the rhythm going again.
Spencer pulled her back in again, arching her back so she could bounce easier. She held him close, tucking her face into the crook of his neck as she started to move faster and faster on him. Hearing his breathing pick up as his grip tightened on her asscheeks.
She kept one hand in his hair as her other hand reached for her clit, pleasuring herself slightly the way she knew she liked it. “Jesus Christ,” she whispered against his skin as she fucked him.
It had never felt like this before, it was so personal for the first time. They worked together perfectly, not having to communicate at all, following the other person’s rhythm like a well-oiled machine with a task.
He felt her everywhere. Her hands in his hair, her lips on his neck. The way her hot breath tickled right under his ear as she tried to catch her breath against him. The way she pulled off him and sucked him back in, again and again, her breasts against his chest and her ass in his hands.
He couldn’t believe it. That a real human being cared about and appreciated him, even after learning his worst secret. She was special and different and everything he needed.
He could feel himself getting closer, wanting to savour every moment with her that he could. His hands roamed her back, over her shoulders and arms. He wanted to touch every single inch of her while he had the chance.
“I’m so close,” she whispered in his ear, kissing his cheek and resting her open mouth against his.
They weren’t kissing, they were panting over each other with their foreheads resting together. Euphoria filling the empty spaces between them as she came, gasping and shaking violently over him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, bending his knees and driving into her a few more times before he finished.
She tugged on his hair then, biting his bottom lip as she felt him twitch inside of her. Letting out the smallest gasps and whimpers as she pulled her hand out from between them and pushed herself off him.
Dropping her body against his, resting her head on his chest as they caught their breath.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a hug as he repeatedly kissed the top of her head. “Thank you,” he was still out of breath as he said it.
She smiled, laughing against his skin again as she hugged him back.
He woke up to the sun in his eyes and the feeling of lips against his skin. He blinked as gained consciousness, finding Y/N laying against his chest again. Her face in his heck where she was placing lazy kisses, trying to wake him up nicely.
“Good morning?” His voice was groggy and deep, it made her smile against his skin. A feeling he didn’t realize he missed so much during the night.
“What time is your flight back?”
“10:30, why?” He asked softly, rubbing his hand over her back softly.
She held him tighter, breathing him in deeply as she did so. Not wanting to let him go any time soon, “it’s 9:45.”
“Is it bad I’m hoping there’s a secret serial killer in Albuquerque?”
She laughed again, sitting up this time so she could look at him again. “Maybe I’ll come to visit my parents soon a find a reason to stay in Virginia?”
“I’d like that,” he smiled, pulling her into a kiss. Never wanting it to be the last one.
He waited till the last possible moment to finally peel himself out of her grasp, trying to find all his clothes and belongings from the night before
He kissed her quickly at the door before taking off down the steps and back to the room he was supposed to be sharing with JJ. He knocked on their door lightly, hoping to every god on earth she hadn’t left yet.
She opened the door and just stared at him with her mouth open, “oh my god?” She laughed.
“What?” He asked, completely oblivious to how he looked.
JJ dragged him inside, pulling him towards a mirror and pointing at his reflection. “What happened to you?”
His hair was a mess, he had hickeys all over his neck. His shirt was barely buttoned, definitely not untucked and he didn’t even have his shoes on. “oh.”
“Oh?” JJ couldn’t believe it. “Who is she?”
“Um, the ME from this case,” he explained, scratching the back of his head as he squinted.
JJ just laughed then, “hurry up and look somewhat presentable, pretty boy, the team is going to eat you alive for this.”
Sure enough, when he finally sat in his little corner of the plane with his glasses on and a hickey still visible above his collar, all eyes were on him. No one wanted to ask, they all just made it abundantly clear that they were curious.
Alvez even took a photo to send to Penelope, who sent it to Derek, who texted Reid only 20 minutes into the flight asking who she was. He rolled his eyes and put his phone back in his pocket. About to get really pissed when a second text came in.
555-0623: if you’re still serious about that recommendation, there is a spot available at the DC medical examiner’s office… I’d probably be closer to you than your therapist’s office 💋
He smiled then, saving her number and starting his letter.
— puppyboy! bokuto + ‘guard dog’! bokuto + breeding dog! bokuto + messy sex + dubcon + heavy breeding + rough sex + overstimulation + dacryphilia + lots of cum + knotting + dumbification + obscene amount of cum + sloppy kisses + f! reader
— my piece for ♡ the love club puppyboy collab ♡ !
— synopsis; there’s something off about your newly adopted ‘guard dog’.
— word count; 2.5k
there wasn't anything on his adoption papers that would help explain his current behaviour.
you’d gotten him under the pretense that he was big and strong enough to be your guard dog, and the people at the adoption center certainly highlighted his possessive and protective nature as a good thing, but it’d taken a sharp turn over the course of the first week.
his hands were constantly on you, large body always circling around you at all times- crowding your space while his tail wagged wildly behind him. soft whines tumbling from somewhere deep in his chest the closer he got to you. bokuto was touchy and clingy which got some getting used to, and with a quick call to the adoption center- they reassured you that this was a part of the imprinting process, making sure he’d get your scent memorized to always keep you in his mind.
after that, you eased up on pushing his big head away, getting met with a large smile and heavy tail wagging so hard it nearly knocked him side to side when you let him press his nose to your neck for the first time.
after that, you’d failed to recognize this as anything problematic, and the sweet pup easily weaseled his way into your heart- letting him wrap those strong, muscled arms around you whenever he wanted.
by the second week it was too late to even try and correct his behavior, now- bokuto insisted on sleeping in your bed instead of in his room, and would not let you wander the house alone, laying with you while you took your naps- body draped over your own in a manner that was almost suffocating but refusing to move. any indication that you were about to say, ‘no’ or deny him of hugs and his puppy kisses (big slobbering tongue laving heavy strips up your neck was a near daily occurrence) would send him into a flurry of loud whining and pouty lips, it broke your heart to see him like this.
you'd simply chalked it up to him having some sort of abandonment issues, and once more- failed to recognize the biggest red flag that something wasn't quite right with your ‘guard dog’.
it was during heavier nap sessions where you didn't realize his cock swell, mouth salivating so heavy with the way your warm body felt pressed against him would send signals to his very being that you were his breeding bitch.
cuddles and touches that came so natural to him were because he wasn't bred to be a guard dog- he was bred to… breed, but you didn't know that. were not told that the way he hung off you wasnt to mark you- he’d already done that the first time he’d slobbered all over you, it was to measure you and how much prepping he’d have to do in order to fit his cock inside your tiny hole- tiny compared to him.
that the way he’d wrap arms around you and press your body to him was so he could rub his cock against your form. the twitching of it hidden with the vibration his heavy tail made with each wag- whines you’d thought that came from him just being a needy and touch starved pup really came from him thinking about fulfilling primal duties of giving you and him baby after baby- and it all finally came to a breaking point during the third week of him being home with you.
if you thought that the way he didn't let you leave his sight before was overly clingy- it was almost suffocating now.
bokuto tugged you to your shared room, insisted it was nap time, knew you'd simply overwork yourself and claimed he was being a good boy and taking care of you, but the second you laid down on your side- he was on you. wrapping you up in his body, back pressed to the front of his form- strong arms cradling you up, sighing heavily against your neck with the way his nose pressed to your pulse point.
you could hear him swallow over and over, licking his lips with every intake of air, wiggling against his hold to giggle and ask if he was thirsty, and he was- he really truly was.
“no- smell good. you smell good.”
gruff voice nearly growled with every syllable, and your eyes furrowed at the tone- maybe he was just tired or feeling unwell, but there was something there, he didn't sound the same.
and then his hands started to wander, grabbing at your tummy, wandering down to your thighs and your wiggling increased- while you laid there wondering what was wrong with him. he’d usually stop with a nudge, but now he was determined to seemingly pry your legs open.
“bo! quit it, i wanna nap.” you whispered back at him, harsh tone turned into a gasp when his large hand slotted between your thighs, side of his hand pressing against your heated cunt- your own hand coming down quick to grab at his wrist, hearing at the same time a loud whine and huff tumble out of bokouto’s mouth, tail thumping in excitement onto the bed behind the two of you.
“you smell good!” was the only thing he could respond with, shaking viscously at the smell your whole body emitted, hidden from you- but to him it was signaled you were more than ready to take a cunt full of cum, fertile and ready for him.
words failed bokuto, too dumb and focused on one thing at a time- the thought of even explaining it to you made his head hurt, and in the chase to give you what he knew you really needed, he simply hooked a large palm under one of your knees and flipped you onto your back, looking pretty and so soft underneath his shaking body.
“you need it.” was all that managed to slip out, grabbing at your clothes and pulling- the fabric unable to compete against his strength, and you felt yourself swimming in pure confusion, and lust.
it was so easy to give into his ministrations, felt like there was no reason to say no. a big puppy like him built to protect and serve was just fulfilling his duties in a different way.
letting yourself fall headfirst to his frantic grabbing- face heated when the last bit of clothes finally gave way, exposing your body to him- watching when his tongue lulled out, eyes wide while they roamed all over, committing everything he saw to memory.
nothing like the eager dog he was moments ago, now he was driven by pure hunger and instinct- sloppy movements hurried to shove frantic fingers inside your heat.
drool painting your chest while he watched himself sink into you over and over and with the way he was breathing you could only question and wonder where he knew how to do all of this.
head tossed back to the plushness of your pillows, whimpering over and over, now being reduced to the blubbering mess he usually was, already so close while he split you, stretched you to take his cock, knowing for a fact that that was coming soon.
and maybe he should have taken more time to soften your walls in preparation, but the thin line of logical thought snapped when you whined and grabbed at his wrist- telling him you were so close with a pretty cry, it had him close that panting mouth of his, swallowing and nodding once before hurriedly shoving his sweats down- revealing to you the thickest, nearly purpled, cock you've ever seen.
tossing your face to the side to breathe- eyes widened in something akin to delicious fear.
it was daunting, so thick and bobbing, already wet thanks to all the precum slowly seeping out of his dick, eyes catching his balls when you looked back at it- trying to wrestle both want and fear, wanting to have him and fearing the integrity of your cunt at the same time.
bokuto could sense the spike in adrenaline, and in an attempt to soothe you- your puppy leaned down and pressed wet kisses to your cheeks- teeth biting down lovingly on the plushness before whispering,
“you were made to take it- i was made to give it.”
and it was that small, chopped phrase- abnormally wordy for him, that had you keen once more, hands finding his arms and nodding.
it all clicked when bokuto reached a veiny hand down to his cock and leaned down to spit on his cock, pinched eyebrows highlighting eyes that bore the most intense looked he'd ever worn while he laid the heavy, thick cockhead to your hole- pushing in just enough so that his hand was allowed to move from himself to one of your thighs, immediately pushing it up to your chest with every inch sinking inside after the head popped inside, that he was never made to be a guard dog-
your puppy was made with the sole intent of bringing forth line after line of pups with his strength, his good genes meant to be passed down over and over.
virality came hand in hand with bokuto- and now it was your turn to lay there and take it.
loud squealing followed the first thrust given- squeezed out of you with how hard down he had the heaviness of your thigh pinned down to your chest, unable to register that the wetness trickling down your stretched cunt was from all the wetness he was fucking out of you.
cries mirrored by him letting fucked out pants and groans fall, watching your body jolt and squish and stretched to receive every crushing thrust, driven by the weight of his lower body. once more grabbing for the other thigh and doing the exact same thing as before- letting both thick hands lay right under your knee, knowing that this was the best position to breed you nice and full.
“b-bokuto! bokuto- please!” you wheezed, pretty little tears forming along your lashes when you couldn't take it anymore, going numb from the waist down while the weight of his body crushed you.
taking on a form you've never been put under, and he knew this- watched while you cried so pretty and nice for him, pussy rewarding the stretch with clenching, milking him more and more- plush balls only somewhat cushioning any impact, balls full of all the cum he was most definitely going to give you.
he gnashed down on his teeth, jaw flexing with the oncoming orgasm- falling prey to you, to the way you smelled, to the thought of you walking around so pretty and heavy and round with his pups, knowing he was made to do one thing and you were here to help fulfill those desires had him toss his head back and keen- nearly howling when it finally came.
there was no spurt- no delicate warmth that slowly entered your insides. it was heavy and swelling up inside of you, audible noises following the first /fountain/ of cum nearly spraying against your insides- visibly shaking with the intensity of coming undone in such a sweet little pussy.
your own back coming up and off the bed in reaction to him stretching you out with his cum, walls fighting the thickness of it all, going dizzy and nearly blacking out as his thumb reached down to ease you through the white heat, only really making you squirm and cry with the way your own orgasm followed so close.
he hadn’t moved one inch, dutifully waiting for the swell of his balls to come to a halt before even trying to move once more- and even then, even waiting for the last rivule to rest against your swollen walls, it was still too much, eyes wide and frantic while bokuto began working for another load.
he was lost, knew that the second he watched your pussy lips stretch to accommodate him like he knew it would, but he still caught wind of your crying.
blinking past the haze- he looked down at you, looked down at your beaten cunt and how strings of cum followed the rise of his hips up and off your mound, a thick ring of milky wetness painted him, right around where his knot would surely form.
it took everything in him to slow down even a little, ears prickling forward to listen to your sobs, from an overwhelming pleasure you'd never known before, reaching down to kiss the wet trails running down your cheeks away- happily whispering that it was almost over, tail once more wagging fiercely at the thought, knotting you so so close- within reach, knowing it would only take a couple more thrusts before he was coming loose.
“so close, one more- one more.”
bokuto breathily panted, figured that it was enough to sooth you- and continued on his dumb pistoning, excited himself with his own words and once more put you under the full receiving weight of his barelling hips and full, heavy, thick balls.
it was during this second wave of crushing paps of his lower body that you came undone over and over- one orgasm not enough for your body, and the way he took you only further increased the pleasure given, squirming against his hold, unable to keep your eyes open.
you came over and over again, unable to stop, unable to stop squeezing around his swelling cock- one last thrust sealing the seal when the knot of his already monstrous cock caught a sharp squeeze of your tightening cunt.
once more, bokuto held you down while you squealed, eyes widening at the way you felt every inch inside flood with cum, knot keeping it all inside- no where to go, it stayed where it was meant to go, and finally- bokuto let go of your shaking, writhing thighs- kicking around his body while you /still/ came despite the stretch.
hands no longer holding you down came up to your face to hold it, keeping it from tossing to the left and right and instead focusing your wandering eyes to nothing more than him, golden eyes shining while you laid in pure exhaustion- taking him just like he knew you would.
“puppy did good?” he questioned, not knowing your dumbed down state, trying to come back from the teetering edge of consciousness and unconsciousness- blinking through tears to look at the big creature folding itself down to look directly into your eyes.
“good- puppy did good.”
you warbled, not knowing if you can call being fucked within an inch of your life, really truly good- but you were too tired.
he knew it was time to rest now, tongue finding your wet neck and licking at it- something soothing despite his massive knot immobilizing you from the waist down.
letting yourself fall limp, a singular thought to call to the adoption center and ask them who bokuto really, truly was- was the last thing on your mind before falling prey to sleep and exchaustion, letting your big dumb dog take care of you- knwoing that no matter who he truly was, he was there to care for you.
Summary: “The mission was already a success!” you say and you can feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You will yourself to blink them back. “You had the files, the base was set to detonate, I don’t understand why you didn’t just stay on the fucking jet.”
“Because you were going to die.”
Characters: Bucky Barnes/(f)Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut (oral fem receiving, Bucky is a slut for consent), language, graphic depictions of violence, blood
Word Count: 9338
A/N: This is a tumblr request for @buckybarnes101 who requested an enemies to lovers with eventual smut and I got so so carried away with this request and ended up writing this 9k chonker! (5k of it is smut so, carry on) HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY! Enjoy!!
main masterlist | AO3
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” you snap, “maybe about saving all the innocent people that’ve been trapped in HYDRA’s basement for god knows how long?”
Bucky snarls at you, grabbing the front of your tac-suit and pulling you up until your nose is inches from his. A striking pain shoots through your side like a bullet, which is funny, considering the hole he stitched up for you what seemed like seconds ago.
But just like your relationship, numb one second and blazing the next, it’s like some switch has flipped in his brain in a matter of minutes.
You should really give him some more credit—the man describes his brain as spaghetti most days. And as funny as it sounds, it really isn’t. You’re keenly aware of the haunted look that fills his eyes when he struggles with his past.
Except when he acts like this, it’s hard to remember that.
Something smells of smoke and gunpowder. People are screaming. The men who just ran through the door are shouting in Russian, you know, because you’ve heard the same language from Bucky’s mouth when he’s having nightmares. Faintly, you realize there’s a pain just above your hip. You don’t have time to look. The gun is in your hands and you’re firing. Someone—innocent, crying—bumps into you as they flee the scene. Your shot goes wide.
Bucky’s voice crackles over the comms. “Where are you?” He sounds panicked.
“Got held up,” you respond. “I’m on my way. Civilians headed to you.”
He curses your name. “I told you to get back to the jet!”
The butt of an assault rifle is hurtling toward you and you duck, rolling across the dirty concrete. The pain in your side flares up, burning. You think you might’ve gotten shot. You return the favor, killing two more HYDRA agents.
“I took a detour.”
A moment to breathe. Your eyes roam over the cells that you uncovered in the base, checking for any signs of life you previously missed. It’s all dead bodies and blood. You’re starting to feel weak.
“Get back to the fucking jet, agent! The base is rigged to blow!”
Before you can reply, someone grabs you by the hair, the muzzle of a gun pressed into your neck. On reflex and instinct alone, you thrust your elbow into his side and disarm him just in time. The gun goes off, bullet lodging in the concrete. Fucking slug would’ve ripped right through you.
“Bit busy,” you reply to Bucky.
Your name is lost to the sound of you firing the last few rounds into your attacker. When you’re sure he’s dead, you slump to the wet floor, knees unable to hold you any longer. The pain in your side is killing you—probably literally. A gasp escapes you when you press your fingers to the wound, trying to staunch the blood from the bullet hole, but at this point, you guess it doesn’t matter. The base is going to go up in flames in a few more minutes and you don’t have the strength to get back to the quinjet.
And really, you don’t want to. Bucky’s gonna be pissed.
“Hey, Barnes,” you wheeze through the comms. He doesn’t reply. “You know how you got all pissy at Sam when he ate your last loaf of that banana bread, and you put all those laxatives in his brownies and he was shitting for like, days? Yeah, that was me. I ate your banana bread.”
He never replies, but you chuckle all the way until you fall asleep, cheek pressed into a pool of someone’s blood.
He says your name now, catching your attention again, and when you roll your eyes at him he shakes you again. With a hiss of pain, you try and shove him away from you, but his dumb super soldier ass is too heavy.
“Good!” Bucky finally lets you go and you slump against your seat, wincing. “Maybe the pain will make you stop being so fucking reckless! You defied a direct order from your captain. You could have died.”
“Maybe I should have,” you mutter back, not looking at him.
“I should be so lucky,” he seethes. “If I hadn’t gone back for your dumbass, your body wouldn’t have even been recovered. You would have rotted in that damn HYDRA base. Is that what you want?”
You snort. “Ain’t like I got a family who wants my ashes.”
Bucky throws up his hands, exasperated, and then decides to pace up and down the aisle of the jet. He doesn’t look at you, and you only sneak glances at the rage painting his face when you’re sure he isn’t going to see you staring. He looks just as worn as you, the sole sleeve of his tac-suit bloody and ripped up, charred remains and soot skimming his boots where he’s tied the laces tight. Sweat-matted and probably dried with blood, his hair is falling in chunks from the bun he usually keeps it in for missions now, and he has to brush it out of his face every few paces he takes.
In another phrase, Bucky is fucking hot right now.
Maybe death would have been tragic, you muse, since you wouldn’t get to see the absolute specimen of your partner anymore.
For as much as you two hate each other, you can’t deny how gorgeous he is. Ripped to match the gods, carefully trimmed beard only a little more bristled than the one Steve sports these days, and god, the man wears a sweater like it’s Armani.
When you blink, you realize he’s looking at you, and your face flushes. It isn’t the first time he’s caught you staring at him hungrily, you’re sure, but most of the time he gets this stupid smug look on his face, lips wide in a smirk, and sometimes he’ll even throw you a flirty little line that has you gnashing your teeth and snapping at him to fuck off.
But this time, he’s so angry that he just stares at you, eyes narrowed in a glare.
“When we get back,” he says, nostrils flaring, “I’m benching you.”
“What?” you cry out, eyes wide. “Why the fuck—who the—who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Your captain!” he roars, and you almost swear the whole jet shakes with his fury. “You disobeyed my direct order to retreat to the jet and instead you almost cost us both our lives. Why the fuck shouldn’t I bench you?”
“I didn’t ask you to come save me!” you shout back, trying to stand from your seat. Almost immediately, Bucky shoves you back down.
“Not only am I your captain for this mission, but I’m your partner. I’m responsible for you. What, you just expect me to leave you behind?”
“The mission was already a success!” you say and you can feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You will yourself to blink them back. “You had the files, the base was set to detonate, I don’t understand why you didn’t just stay on the fucking jet.”
“Because you were going to die.”
The way that Bucky is looking at you right now steals all your breath away, steals all the fight you feel in your bones. You watch the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way the vein in his neck jumps, the way he holds his jaw tight. His eyes, a blaze of blue, are looking at you like he’s afraid you’ll dissolve right in front of him, leaving behind a body bag of skin and bones and teeth. That’s all you are, maybe.
“Stay with me,” he says, voice so close to your ear. “Please, just stay with me, doll.”
It’s all hazy. The world is black. You can’t open your eyes, they’re so heavy. Your body hurts so bad, so fucking bad. Someone is jostling you and it hurts so bad and you just want to open your mouth and scream.
“You’re okay.” It’s Bucky, you realize in some vague fog of a dream. “You’re going to be okay, I’ve got you.”
Your leg feels like it’s on fire. The air smells like the fourth of July, all fire and gunpowder and barbeque. Burnt flesh. It’s hot and thick, the smoke you’re breathing in.
“I have so much to tell you,” he whispers, maybe. Or maybe that’s just how it sounds in your mind. “So much to say to you. So much to apologize for. I need to tell you something. You told me about that dumb fucking banana bread. I have something I gotta tell you, doll.”
What? What does he have to tell you? You want to ask but your throat is so dry and your lips are glued together.
You want to tell him you aren’t dying, and god, he’s being so dramatic. But you can’t, because you might actually be dying.
Instead, you try so so so hard to open your eyes, and a sliver of light invades your vision, and even with the way your eyelids shudder, you can see Bucky’s face. Just a little bit. He’s covered in blood, you think.
Oh, but his eyes. Fuck, you love his eyes. Thank god you opened yours so you could stare at his eyes before you go to sleep again. So blue. So deep. So icy and sad and hurt and beautiful.
“Please,” he says, and you swear it’s the only time he’s ever begged you for anything.
Of course, you tell yourself before your eyes close again. I’d do anything for you.
“Why do you care?” you whisper, and he blanches, because you swear his damned super soldier hearing can even hear your thoughts.
But fuck it, you’re young, wild, and free, and you’re alive now too, so fuck it.
“Why do you care?” you repeat, louder this time, very clearly addressing him. “Why do you care so much if I die? You’ve hated me since the day you met me,” you spit the words out like poison.
Bucky turns away, gaze trained on something other than you and your bloodied tac-suit.
“We’ve always fought about this,” you continue. “This isn’t anything new, Barnes. You knew I’d go down to save those people. You knew I’d risk my life to get them out. You know this and you still fucking went after me. So why?”
The silence eats at every edge you have until it consumes you, and Bucky never replies.
You watch him walk away, toward the cockpit, and you don’t have the energy to follow him and finish the fight.
“Get it through your pretty little head before you go on a mission and get yourself killed, doll.” Bucky’s smirk sends a shiver through you and you aren’t sure if it's anger or arousal. You bite down on your tongue to keep from lashing out. “You can’t save everyone.”
“Bullshit,” you say before you realize. Bucky’s eyes go wide. “I took this job because I have the ability to save people, so I’m going to save everyone.”
His mouth opens but you cut him off.
“I don’t care if you can’t save everyone, but me?” Your finger is braced against his hard chest and he doesn’t recoil. “I’ll save everyone or I’ll die trying.”
“Hey,” Steve says, trying to move between you two, but you barely notice his presence.
“You’re stupid,” Bucky hisses.
You smirk. “You’re not as skilled as you think you are.”
“Shut up,” he snarls.
“Make me,” you snap back.
“Guys,” Steve tries to interrupt.
“Meet me in the ring.” Bucky’s eyes are glaring down at you, heated. “Let’s see if you can handle me, doll.”
“Buck!” Steve’s hand falls on Bucky’s shoulder, working to hold him back from stalking off to the gym. But Bucky shrugs him off.
“Back off, Steve.” He looks over his shoulder at you as if daring you to follow.
And, fuck, you’ve never backed down from a challenge in your entire life, so you follow him all the way to the training room, watching the way his muscles strain through his tight t-shirt the whole way.
He’s kind enough to hold the ropes up so you can duck under easier, but you roll your eyes and leverage your foot against the spring and tuck your legs underneath you to jump the top rope easily. You throw him the same look that he did, a coy gaze over your shoulder, and then you beckon him forward.
His nostrils flare and you wonder what he’d look like on top of you in bed.
“Wrap your hands, for god’s sake,” Steve shouts, but you ignore him in favor of cracking your knuckles for good measure.
“I’m not planning on getting mine bloody,” you tell him, and Bucky laughs brusk.
“You should plan on losing,” he says, smirking.
With a twist of your jaw, you crack your neck. “Not planning on that, either.”
Like big cats, the two of you circle each other, toes so light the mat makes no noise. Bucky’s eyes are focused, narrowed, and beautiful like this, you think. He’s calculating every single movement you’re making and it sends a heat down to your core. This is all just foreplay to you.
Until he charges, and then it’s on. You’re a flurry of limbs, defensive stances and blocks. Bucky is unrelenting and the fucker is fast for his size. He never uses his metal arm to attack, but the manic whirr and click of it as he moves is alarming. There’s a window of opportunity when Bucky overshoots a right hook and you duck underneath his arm, and you’re able to get behind him and kick him the back of his knee. He falters for not even a second and then it’s back on.
It’s a dance, weaving between limbs and twirling kicks aimed at his head. You struggle to figure out how to take him down—he’s so big, like a fucking brick wall. There’s very little chance you can flip him. You’re going to have to try and get him in a hold, but there’s no way he’s going to allow you to do that.
But maybe you can bait him. You go on the attack now, whiffing a couple of good punches and sending a straight kick right at his jaw that he barely dodges. While you’re recovering, before your foot is even planted back on the mat, Bucky does exactly what you want him to do. He slides up with a fist and you feign a misstep, ducking right. His follow-through is too heavy and you grab his wrist, locking it in your grasp, and then your heel goes straight into his abdomen, right under his center of gravity.
He goes down and you relish in the moment his eyes blow wide with the shock of being caught off guard. You scramble on top of him but he rocks his hips up and starts to roll you both until you’re underneath him. In retaliation, you lock one foot around his calf and use your other knee to jab his stomach, and then you roll him underneath you instead. Your forearm presses against his neck, legs squeezing his middle.
God, he’s fucking pretty, his blue eyes all big and pants falling out of his pink lips. Sweat is dripping from his hairline and rolling off the bridge of his nose and it pleases you, the fact that you made Bucky Barnes bust his ass in a fight. You know you have to look like a drowned dog by now, so how the fuck is he still so pretty? For that, you press down on his throat harder until he taps the mat—a yield.
Immediately you’re off him, panting as you lean against the ropes, but a shit-eating grin is plastered on your face. Bucky looks anywhere but you, wiping his damp face on his shirt, which gives you the most perfect flash of his carved abs.
“So,” you say, breaking the silence, “we can agree to disagree, right?”
He stares at you for a hard moment, a longer moment than he has before, and you swallow as desire crawls up your spine. Then, Bucky ducks under the ropes, grabs his towel, and gets the hell out of dodge.
“Fuck you too, Barnes!” you shout, and you know he must’ve heard you.
He helps you walk off the quinjet and you hate literally every second of every moment that you have to have his arm wrapped around your waist. Mostly because you’re pissed at him and you hate being babied, but also because god, you can imagine Bucky holding you like this in a different context way better than you should be able to.
Those thoughts are the demons in your brain and you need someone to exorcise you. Probably Natasha. No, Natasha will make fun of you. Wanda, then.
As soon as you’re out of the hangar, Bucky asks FRIDAY if there’s anyone in the medbay, and your neck about snaps in half from how fast you turn.
“No,” you say. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to medical.”
He cuts you a glare. “As if you have a say in it.”
“I do have a say! It’s my body! This is the twenty-first century, Barnes. My body, my choice!”
“You’re injured,” he grits through his teeth. “We’re going to medbay.”
“I don’t need to go!” You start dragging your heels, trying to make yourself heavier, but Bucky is a super soldier and probably throws mack trucks for a living or something. “You stitched me up! The burns aren’t that bad, either. I’m fine, I’m not going to medical.”
“God, can you ever give me a break?” he groans. “Why are you always so fucking difficult?”
“I’m not being difficult!” you snarl, trying to push away from him, but his grip tightens. “Why the fuck do you care so much?”
“You’re so fucking stupid.”
“Yeah, maybe I am, since I don’t know why the fuck you give two shits about saving my quote-unquote dumbass who almost got us both killed, and I don’t know why the fuck you care about getting me to medical when you’re gonna bench me anyway! Right, thanks a lot Barnes, I’m so stupid for not fucking figuring it out!”
“You are!” he roars, and then your back is against the wall, his hand cushioning your head from hitting it. He corners you there, covering your body with his, ducking down so your mouths are so close you would only need to reach up a little to kiss him, and god, that’s tempting.
Not tempting enough when you’re this pissed off, though.
“So that’s what it is, huh? You just think I’m some stupid, incapable little girl who is so impractical because all she wants to do is save lives? You think I’m so stupid that I don’t know that people are going to die? And they’re going to die because I can’t save them? Maybe you should think about how I could never live with myself if I didn’t do everything possible to save them, so I risk my life to get them to safety. I would never ever risk yours, you stupid, arrogant, ignorant—”
His lips are hot when they crash against yours, pinning you between him and the wall. It’s desperate, the kind of kiss you’ve never had before. It’s so desperate and you want to pull away and ask him, Bucky, what are you so desperate for? He kisses you like he wants to keep you, his mouth swallowing yours like he can’t get enough of you. It’s hungry and begging and you don’t ever want it to stop, your teeth nipping blood from his bottom lip as if it’ll stop him from leaving, but he pulls away, leaving you breathless anyway.
“You’re stupid,” he repeats again and you watch his tongue dart out to taste the blood you’ve ripped from his skin. It sends a thrill of pleasure through you. “You’re so stupid.”
And he kisses you again and you decide that sure, maybe you’re stupid, you’ll be stupid all day long because he’s going to kiss you stupid.
It’s your hands that move first, you realize in some random corner of your mind. Your fingers twine in his brown locks, tugging the hair tie away and flinging it somewhere. Vaguely, you realize you’re still in the middle of the hallway, on the way to the elevator, but you don’t give a shit. The hand that isn’t twisting Bucky’s scalp finds the material of his tac-suit and starts pulling at all the straps and buckles, searching for a sliver of his hot skin in any capacity.
His own hand, the one not holding the back of your head, skims over your waist and flutters down your uninjured hip, grasping at the flesh underneath your suit. Suddenly, you’re overcome with the need to get these fucking clothes off, and immediately, and you break the kiss so you can suck down air and ask the man you’ve been hating, been pining after, to take you to bed.
As you do, Bucky trails a hot path of sloppy kisses down your chin, over your jaw, against your neck, until he finds the juncture of your shoulder and attaches his teeth there, nibbling on a patch of skin that is so distracting you forget about your question for a minute. And then your fingers run over a rough spot on his suit and you remember.
“Bucky,” you gasp out, and it sounds so heady that you nearly throw your head back. “Bucky,” you repeat, more urgently, when he doesn’t let up, your hand is tightening on his sleeve and tugging on it.
His head snaps up now, eyes piercing yours, concerned.
“Are you okay?” he asks, moving your hair away from your face to look closer at you.
“Bed,” you rasp out, but barely. “Now, please.”
He doesn’t move for a second, just staring at you like he’s scared, like he’s surprised you would ask. You see his eyes sort of glaze over, a reminder of the nightmares he’s seen, the nightmares he replays over and over in his head, but you’re selfish and your core is pulsing with a heat you’ve never felt this hot before and you need him here, not wherever his mind is taking him.
“Please, Bucky,” you say, and he blinks, and then he’s present again.
“Anything for you, doll,” he whispers, and your legs nearly collapse beneath you at the thought. Bucky scoops you into his arms carefully, trying not to jostle your wound too much, and then he sweeps you into the elevator and you’re speeding toward his room and hoping to god that Steve isn’t prowling around.
In a haze of kissing and excitement, you barely recognize that Bucky’s opening his door until it’s closed behind you and he’s walking you through his room and to his bed.
God, you’ve wanted to be in his bed for so fucking long.
He drops you among the sheets gently, so starkly different from the harsh tone of his voice only a few minutes earlier when he was yelling at you, and you’re not sure what you like better. You want Bucky to fuck you, to rip you in half and put you back together like he always does. But you want him, so badly, to make love to you just as much, but you’d never admit that to him.
Bucky’s kissing you so sweetly now, and then his kisses get more forceful, more needy, and you suck on his tongue until he’s panting above you. His hands are everywhere, sliding over your suit, unstrapping and unzipping and unbuckling all your gear, and your hands fumble in tune with his, trying to help him get you out of your clothes.
Just before he takes off your vest, he kisses you and asks, “Is this okay?”
You rip the vest off yourself, sitting up on your elbows to rip your undershirt off with it, leaving you in a black sports bra.
And you revel in the way Bucky stares at this new flesh. His lips find your sweaty skin, covering every inch that’s been revealed now as your fingers start taking his tac-suit apart the way he did yours. Soon, you’re frustrated, and you whine and pull at it until he huffs a laugh and takes it off himself. His vest gets thrown to the side and his tank top follows, leaving him bare-chested.
Your fingers are shaky as they touch his tanned skin and you almost laugh at how nervous you are. You’ve spent so long looking at him, hating him, wanting him, and now you have this stretch of his wide chest in front of you and all you can do is let your fingertips glide over him, mouth parted, eyes hazy.
His pupils are blown wide, too, and Bucky takes your hand in his and presses it against him harder, and suddenly you’re feral.
Your hands slide over every part of him, taking in the expanse of him. His biceps, his strong shoulders, the hard planes of his body. As gentle as possible, you trail your fingers closer and closer to the scar where metal meets flesh, and you glance up at him, a silent question, and when he gives you the smallest nod, you smooth over the gnarled rift of skin. You don’t ask if it hurts. He gives no indication that it does. And when you reach up to press a soft kiss to it, he shudders above you.
“Please,” he whispers, so quietly. “Let me touch you, doll.”
You lay back and start to unstrap your holsters, gesturing for Bucky to help you with your pants. He unlaces your boots for you as you throw your weapons to the ground, the clink of belts and buckles mingling in the silence, a song that ignites the excitement inside of you.
Your core is molten lava, the apex of your thighs dripping and Bucky hasn’t even touched the most intimate parts of you yet. Every single fiber of your being is trembling in anticipation, and in your hurry to strip your pants off, a twinge of pain shoots through you as you bend the wrong way, stitches pulling.
Bucky curses—like he’s the one who’s hurt you and you aren’t the idiot trying to rip her pants off—and just like he can flip the switch on his attitude, he flips the switch on this, too. He’s off of you before you realize, sitting back on his haunches, staring down at you in panic.
“I’m—Baby,” he breathes, voice shaking. “I'm sorry.”
His hands are outstretched, reaching for you, trembling as he swallows hard. You watch as his eyes shift in the space between your face and the white gauze wrapped around the bullet wound in your side.
“Bucky,” you hiss and grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him down. He doesn’t budge, not much at least, but you meet him the rest of the way and your lips collide with his in a thunderous crash, and like instinct, he kisses you until you can’t breathe.
“Doll,” he mumbles against your mouth and you drink the word from his tongue, distracting him. “We can’t.”
“We can,” you growl back, teeth reminding him of the pulsing ache between your thighs. In search of more, your hips roll up and meet his own, causing a groan to tumble out of his mouth into your own.
Fuck the pain—you’ll grit your teeth and bear it. This is the only moment you’ll ever have him, and by god, you need him.
Your hands return to your pants. “Help me,” you plead, breathless, unable to shimmy out of them. Bucky’s already pulled your boots off, socks coming with them, and his fingers find the heated flesh right beneath your waistband.
“Are you sure?”
All you can do is whine his name until he understands, and then Bucky is peeling your black pants from your legs, the rush of cool air rolling over your hot skin feeling almost as good as his hands are going to feel if he’ll just put them on you.
When his palms finally fall upon your thighs, rough and calloused and big and warm, you need much more, so much more. The way he trails his fingers down your knees, caressing your calves, brushing atop your ankle, and then coming back up to have his thumbs follow the ridge of muscles in your thighs, it all makes you shiver in pleasure. You’re so hot, sweat pooling in the small of your back against the bed, the dampness of your core becoming harder to ignore.
You squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the ache and Bucky notices—of course he notices—and his mouth finds your neck again, sucking until dark bruises begin to mar your skin, until you’re bowing off the bed, arching toward him, trying to get something, anything. Anything from him.
At some point, you realize he’s just torturing you on purpose, letting his hands roam the stretch of your stomach, smooth over the hills of your hips, and then draw down your legs until you’re shaking as he kisses you so softly, and then so roughly, like he can’t decide if he wants to grow old with you or if he wants to ruin you for whoever comes after him.
You sit up and reach around, fingers intent on unclasping your bra, but Bucky stops you with a nip at your bottom lip.
“Will you let me?” he asks, so sweetly. Bucky’s hand finds yours and bats them away, his fingers on the hooks as he waits for your answer.
“Yes,” you moan as his other hand tickles down the curve of your side. “God, please, yes.”
“Bucky,” he says, smirking against the side of your neck.
“Shut up and undress me, for fuck’s sake.”
“Well, when you ask so sweet like that, baby.”
With a quiet click, your bra comes undone and Bucky pulls it away from your body, and then your breasts are bare before his eyes. Now, it’s your turn to be doused in ice, to freeze, for the switch to flip.
You feel shy beneath his gaze, the way he looks at your nearly naked body with such reverence, as though this is the moment he’s been waiting for. Your knees close and your elbows draw in over your chest without your permission. It’s not like you want to hide from him, but he looks so perfect atop you, so beautiful in every single facet, better than any dream you’ve ever had of him, and you can’t stop yourself.
What have the other girls looked like underneath him? Better than you, surely. Prettier, skinnier, smaller, sexier. For fuck’s sake, you’ve got a nasty burn on the side of your leg and were shot through your left side only a few hours ago, your middle wrapped in medical tape. You can’t be that pretty a picture.
You’ve had your shot at him and you’re gonna lose it.
But when you look up, Bucky’s looking at you like you’re everything. His face is flushed, red creeping down his neck, and his eyes are soft, hazy, glassy. Gently, his fingers find your jaw and cup your cheek, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.
“Let me look at you, baby.” His voice is almost as rough as the worn skin of his hand, dry and gravelly and thick with lust. When Bucky moves to grasp your wrists, you let your eyes flutter closed and nod, allowing him to peel your arms away from where they hide you, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes.
“God,” his voice shudders. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, doll. I couldn’t have dreamed you up if I tried, and I promise you, I tried.”
Your eyes fly open at this. “What?”
If it bothers him, he doesn’t act like it. Bucky leans down to nuzzle his nose against your collarbone, kissing and licking your skin like he’s making constellations out of your body—bruises connected only by his tongue.
“I’ve thought about this since the day you kicked my ass in the ring.” He sounds like he’s reciting a prayer, all whispered desires. “Your perfect lips, what they’d feel like, how soft they are. If you’d touch my scars, and how your fingers would feel on them all if you did.”
His mouth closes over the mound of your breast, the clash of tongue and teeth upon your nipple forcing you to arch into him in pleasure. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream and you aren’t quite aware that you’re even whining until his free hand crawls up from your hip and cups your other breast, thumb strumming over your peaked nipple. The breathy moans that pour from your mouth fill the room and only seem to make Bucky work faster, work harder, as he drags every drop of pleasure out of you with every instrument he has. Your hips buck up and into his, your thinly-clothed core catching the tent in his pants—his tac-suit, you realize, is still on—and it makes you both groan in a symphony of need.
“Need you,” you somehow manage to get out between your heavy panting, hips still searching for something to relieve the ache in your center. “Bucky, please.”
He releases your nipple from his lips, the chill assaulting the wet bud making you bow from the bed once again. Bucky places a kiss on the other, letting his tongue lave over it until it's just as wet and hard.
“I imagined what you’d sound like,” he says against your stomach, punctuating his words with a smattering of kisses across your skin. “Thought about what you’d—fuck, baby—I thought so much about how you’d look beneath me all spread out, just for me.”
The sound you make in reply is almost embarrassing as how soaked your panties are.
“Wondered how you’d taste.” He lets his tongue drag across the hem of your underwear and you press up, trying to get his mouth closer, but his hands settle on your hips and gently hold you to the bed.
“Bucky!” you try and growl, but it comes out an octave too high. “Please!”
“What is it, babydoll?” His fingers curl underneath, thumbs riding the line of skin just beneath your panties.
“I need you!” You throw your head back against the pillow. “I’ve thought about it too,” you admit, breathing hard. “How you’d touch me like this, how you’d feel inside me, please, so please just—I need you, Bucky.”
“You got me, baby,” he says and it sounds so fucking beautiful. “I’m right here. I got you, doll. Gonna take care of you, okay? Will you let me give you what you need?”
You answer by trying to press your hips up again, and Bucky shifts until his hands are cupping your ass and he drags you down the bed, closer to him, closer to his own hips where you can feel the bulge of his cock begging to be released.
“Your pants,” you remind him, wrapping your uninjured leg around the back of his thigh. “I want to feel you, please, Bucky.”
“Okay, doll,” he says, laying a kiss just above your panty line again, and then he’s pulling away and you whine despite it.
You listen as Bucky fiddles with his gear, going through the same motions as you had to go through earlier. The clink of his knives, the buckles of his holsters, the heavy soles of his boots as he throws them off. When you sit up, Bucky is standing in his black boxers, the faint light streaming into his room highlighting the shine of the scars that cover his body.
He looks as breathless, as flustered, as aroused as you feel. His hair is mussed from your hands, falling over his shoulder in the thick waves that feel so soft between your fingers. The lust is evident in the way his eyes roam over your body, his pupils blown wide, and then he’s moving toward you and fitting himself between your legs on the bed.
Bucky slides his hands over your heated skin yet again, a reminder of how much he wants you, how much he loves the feel of you, before his fingers hook inside your panties and begin to pull them down. Before he gets too far, he stops again, gaze flicking up to meet yours.
“Is this alright?” he asks.
You nod, lifting your hips as carefully as possible in order to keep from jostling your wound, and Bucky slips the last piece of clothing from your body. You hope, fucking christ you hope, he doesn’t realize how soaked they are when he peels them off, but maybe that’s a lost cause.
Because as soon as you’re naked, your glistening core bare to his eyes alone, all bets are off. There are no more barriers, nothing for you to hide behind, no sharp words to keep your feelings at bay.
His fingers skim over your lips, collecting all the honey you’ve made for him as his knees widen to spread your thighs. The simple movement has your hips rolling already in search of more, whimpers falling from your mouth as Bucky stares at your naked form beneath him. Eyes lidded, you watch as he brings his fingers, wet with your juices, up to his mouth.
“Shit, doll,” he curses. Bucky’s tongue envelops his digits and he groans at the taste, sending shocks like a fucking earthquake through your body, through your bones, straight to your core.
He moves closer to you, sliding your thighs onto his shoulder and locking his metal arm around the top of your hips, far enough away from your wound that it doesn’t hurt. Bucky peppers kisses along your inner thighs, biting and sucking in intervals that has you pressing your mound to him, begging for more.
“You taste so good,” he mumbles, breath ghosting over your quivering pussy, pulling a wanton whine from your throat. “Will you let me taste you, baby?”
“God, yes, please Bucky, please, I need it so bad.” The words are frantic, strangled, a mess of moans of breathless gasping.
“I know, sweetheart,” he says. “I got you, baby. I got you.”
And then his mouth is on you, hot and slick upon hot and slick, his tongue parting the valley of your lips and delving into your dripping center like he’s a man starved and you’re the first meal he’s tasted in years. You keen in pleasure, thrashing your head against the pillows until your hair is a tangled mess as Bucky’s tongue flattens on your clit, licking a wide path until it’s well-traveled and your hips stutter, held back only by the cooled metal on your heated skin. Your hands find purchase in his hair, fingers tugging at his scalp, and the motion makes him groan into you.
You call his name like it’s the only word you know, chanting it over and over like it’s a spell similar to the one he’s weaving with his tongue upon your aching clit. He doesn’t let up, tracing words you can’t make out and drinking in all the wetness flooding his mouth. The gentle scratch of his wiry beard burns just right, contrasting with the curls of pleasure coming from your sensitive clit. Without realizing, you grind your core against Bucky’s mouth, the friction only serving to make you into a trembling mess, your insides throbbing with a need to be filled, pussy clenching around nothing.
As if he feels you, Bucky slides his free hand over your leg and to the apex of your thighs, the first thick finger entering you slowly, like he’s testing the waters. You cry out, begging for more, and Bucky relents. His second finger follows as his tongue continues to lap at your pussy, letting you gyrate against his face as you try to fuck yourself on his hand.
“Bucky,” you pant, each letter of his name a stutter with moans, “please!”
“Please what, babydoll?” His voice sends another wave of arousal through you, juices slicking his fingers up more than before. Your stomach is tightening, pleasure in tight curls between your legs, center so close to snapping that tears are beginning to leak from your eyes because Bucky won’t fucking let you move your hips in the way that you want. He chuckles against your pussy, breath teasing over you, vibrations making you quiver.
Bucky curls his fingers inside of you, stroking your spot, just as his mouth envelops your clit in its heat and he sucks, hard, and the thin thread coiling in your core snaps and you come apart, harder, and a scream tears itself from your throat as warm tears fall into your hairline.
He never stops. As his suckling turns into kitten licks upon your clit, his third finger breaches your opening and slips inside, pumping into you as you ride your orgasm out on his hand. Your hand is tight in his hair until it all becomes too much and it falls to cover your mouth, your teeth finding your knuckle to bite back the sound of your moans.
“Oh no, baby, no,” Bucky says, and when you look down, he’s between your legs, watching you in the aftershocks of your pleasure. His fingers leave your pussy and you clench around nothing, a whine leaving your lips at the emptiness, until Bucky’s metal fingers are pulling your hand away from your face.
“I gotta hear you,” he whispers, the hand covered in your nectar finding your mouth. “Need to hear all those pretty little noises you’re making, baby. I’ve dreamed about ‘em. Would get my cock all hard thinking about ‘em. You gotta keep making ‘em ‘cause now that I’ve heard ‘em, I can’t get enough, babydoll.”
When he moves to trace your bottom lip, red and swollen from his own, your tongue darts out to taste the salt and sin on the pad of his thumb. Bucky places his fingers at your parted lips and you suck them into your mouth, licking all the juice from his skin, tongue swirling around his digits. You wonder if his lips taste like this, too.
He groans as he watches you, his eyes lidded and hazy and lovely, and then his metal hand finds the waistband of his boxers and yanks them off his hips. In one perfect movement, his cock slaps against his stomach, hot and red and already leaking, which makes you flush at the fact that Bucky liked making you come.
Subconsciously, your tongue snakes out to lick your lips as you take in the length, the thickness of his cock, and Bucky gets that familiar look on his face—cocky, smirking, knowing that he’s pushing your limits. He presses you back down upon the bed, his arms bracketing your head as his nose brushes against yours, his heat pressing into the subtle dip where your hip and thigh meet.
The feeling of his cock, hard and heavy against your naked skin, sends you into a frenzy of arousal, of want, of need. You reach out and take him into your hand, your thumb brushing over the velvet head and smearing his precum along his length. Bucky’s jaw tightens, muscle twitching, as you pump your fist around him and drag your fingers along the blue vein riding up the underside. The groan that falls from his lips, the stutter and jerk of his hips, the way he shakes above you is addicting, and Bucky has to pull your wrist away from his cock in order to stop you from getting him off just like that.
“Baby,” he breathes, resting his sweaty forehead against yours.
“Bucky, please,” you beg again. “Please, I need you inside me.”
“You want me?” he asks, and even though his voice is scratchy and thick with desire, he says it like he’s surprised. As if you could never want him.
You’ve always wanted him.
“Yes, god, Bucky. I want you,” you moan, threading your fingers into his hair to smash your lips together in a sharp, bruising kiss. “I need you,” you say against his mouth. “I need you so, so bad.”
“I need you too, babydoll. Need to feel you,” he says, the sound strained, almost like he can’t stay away from you any longer. You feel it too, the ache without him, the way your pussy clenches in anticipation for him.
The head of Bucky’s cock nudges at your entrance and your slick coats him. The soft skin of him brushes your over-sensitive clit and you keen, and he does it again, and again, until you’re shaking, until you wrap your ankles around Bucky’s back and pull him into you, raising your hips to meet his.
“You want this?” His voice is heavy when he asks.
“Yes,” you moan out, rocking against him.
He says your name and it sounds pained on his tongue. “Are you sure?”
“James.” Your teeth snap and gnash on his name, and it awakens something within him that sets every place he touches you ablaze with a new sensation, and Bucky enters you with a slow thrust of his hips.
And it feels so fucking good.
Like straining a muscle you haven’t used in a while, it aches as he enters while you stretch to accommodate his size. The way his cock feels inside of you—touching you in places you never thought you’d be touched, filling you in a way you never thought you’d be filled.
He’s finally, finally yours. If just for this moment, Bucky Barnes is yours.
Your nails incise his back, making new marks among the sea of scarring he’s suffered, as you cling to his body in any way to feel him closer to you. Bucky leaves kisses on every surface of your face, your jawline, your neck. He kisses you everywhere and you wish you could tattoo the feeling into your skin.
“Are you alright?” he mumbles faintly into your neck and you can feel how hard he’s trying not to move, not to hurt you, to give you time to adjust to him. Your fingers trail up and down his spine, drifting into his hair, scratching against his scalp.
“Yes,” you hiss, undulating your hips and making a similar sound fall from his lips. “Bucky, please.”
You don’t know how many iterations of that same phrase you’ve said all night, but you’ll keep saying it, over and over, if he’ll take you like this. Just like this, with his arms trapping your body to the bed, his hips flush against yours, panting above you as he stares into your eyes all lustful and dark and wanting. He smells like the Bucky you’re so familiar with, your partner, Barnes, gunpowder and explosions and blood, with the clean scent of whatever deodorant he uses. If he’ll keep you like this, where you can pretend your his for this moment, you’ll say it over and over
When he finally moves, thrusting into your heat with a growl, it feels like time stops.
Bucky fucks you like he loves you, slow and steady, pumping into you fully and deeply until you lose your mind. He fucks you like he wants to ravage you, fast and quick and hard as he holds your hips to keep you steady, and you ignore the dull pain that flares up in your side because he’s fucking you like he needs you, like he can’t exist without you. He fucks you like he’ll never get another chance to touch you. When he fucks you like this, his thrusts falling out of rhythm, out of time, he rests his forehead against yours and you lean up to capture his mouth with yours, tongues sliding over one another sloppily.
The heat is building up inside of you again, and when Bucky lifts your hips and drapes you over his knees, pressing you up with his metal arm, his cock hits the spot inside you that makes you scream over and over. The waves are cresting. The crescendo is approaching. Every grunt and groan he makes mingles with your moans and shrieking pleasure, and it’s all going to culminate into one big moment, you can feel it.
Bucky pulls back to slip his hand between your bodies, sweaty and hot, and his thumb presses gently into your clit. With one sharp thrust, your body arches off the bed as you snap, screaming his name, and Bucky holds you through it.
Your vision goes black—you aren’t sure if it's because your eyes are screwed shut in pleasurable pain or if it's because you’ve passed out. Bucky’s hips jerk wildly into yours and you tighten the grip you have around his waist with your legs, digging your heels into the small of his strong back.
“So tight,” he hisses into your ear. “So fucking wet, baby. Feel so fucking right, made for me, aren’t you doll?”
“Yes, James,” you moan out as you ride the waves of your orgasm. “Made for you!”
Bucky works at your clit again as his rhythm starts to fail, and even with how sensitive you are, you feel the pleasure curling inside you again, hot inside your stomach. You clench and jolt whenever his cock hits the right angle, and all of a sudden, you’re on the edge yet again.
“I can’t,” you cry out, nearly a sob lost to the sound of his hips snapping against yours.
“You can,” he says, so gently. “You can, baby, just for me. You said so, right?”
How is he still talking? For fuck’s sake, your tongue feels like its detached from your mouth and all you can muster are the moans and whines that come from the back of your throat Bucky is forcing out of you.
“Come with me,” you beg, you plead. “Please James, please, come with me.”
You break apart silently, clinging to his body, holding him to you as every fiber of your being is torn into pieces, shattered. As your pussy clenches and spasms around him, Bucky stutters in his thrusts and you pull him into you, willing him to fall over the edge with you, and he follows dutifully.
He groans out your name as he comes inside of you, liquid heat searing the deepest part of you. Falling back against the pillows, you whisper his name and drag him with you, mouth meeting his for one last clumsy, haphazard kiss. Bucky stills inside of you, still throbbing, and then he whispers something against your lips.
“I love you.”
You freeze, eyes wide, and Bucky pulls away from your embrace to look at you.
“What?” you ask, swallowing thickly. “What did you say?”
“I—” He looks nervous now, but his blue eyes are so fucking sincere. “I’m—I’m so sorry, fuck.”
Bucky moves to pull out of you, to leave, but you tighten your legs around his hips and trap him against you. The cocky smirk he wears, the confident smile, even the look of desire he wore while fucking you—it’s all gone. Left in its wake is the ashamed look Bucky wears that makes him seem small, and you want to smooth it away until he looks at you like he wants you again. Like he wants you to be his.
Like he loves you.
“Why are you sorry?” you ask him, stroking a hand through his hair.
“Because—fuck—this wasn’t supposed to happen.” He glances away from you and glares at the floor and a heartbreaking pain shoots through you. Now, he pulls out of you, shifting to get off the bed and clean up, but you can’t stop the words before they tumble out.
“You didn’t want me?”
“What?” Bucky turns and cups your face in his hand, searching your eyes for something, and his thumb wipes away a stray tear you didn’t realize had fallen.
Oh fuck, here it comes. He told you he loved you in a fit of passion and now you’re the stupid, clingy girl that he needs to leave behind. You’re partners, first and foremost, and you shouldn’t have forgotten that.
But god, he made you feel like you were his, and you wanted that so bad. You want it so fucking bad.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, voice shaking and you wonder if you mean it. “I know I’m stupid, and I know you hate me, and I know it was just sex—”
“Baby, no, please.” Bucky brings your face to his and kisses you softly, sweetly, like he adores you. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry because someone like me shouldn’t love someone like you. God, I shouldn’t love someone as perfect as you. I can’t have you, doll. And I’m sorry.”
Oh. Bucky does love you.
Oh. Oh. Oh.
You surge up and slant your mouth over his, hand gripping the back of his neck to pull him down, fingers twining in the fine hairs where his scalp meets his skin. In this one kiss, you pour everything you think you can into it, everything you feel now, everything you’ve felt since you met him, everything you’ve ever felt at every moment you’ve shared with him.
“I love you,” you say when you pull away. “I love you so much, Bucky. I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”
His eyes are so wide, so afraid, so confused.
“I do,” you tell him. “God, I’ve wanted you for so long, Bucky Barnes, you stupid man.”
You expect him to kiss you now, but he doesn’t. Instead, Bucky cradles your head in his hand and pulls you to his chest, embracing you in his warm arms. He rolls onto the bed, carefully lifting you until you’re situated on top of him, where you wrap your limbs around him and lay upon his warm body. Bucky lays kisses on the crown of your hair, holding you so tightly against him you think you might suffocate.
“I’ve loved you since the day you kicked my ass, doll,” he admits. You laugh.
“Are you kidding me? I thought you hated me.”
“I could never hate you,” he says. “I hated that you would sacrifice yourself for others. I still hate it. It’s why you got hurt today and god, the threat of losing you, it scares me doll. I didn’t know what I would do if you died right there in my arms and I never got the chance to tell you all this.”
You glance up at him, at his beautiful face and his beautiful eyes, the man who you hated and who you wanted and who you love. God, you really do love him.
“I’m not going to leave you,” you whisper, pressing an awkward kiss to his bare chest. “Now that I have you, I could never leave you.”
He laughs at that. “Babydoll, you’ve always had me. I can’t believe you never knew.”
You think back to all the times he’s looked at you, dopey grins and cocky smiles and coy glances. You think about how long you’ve leaned on each other in the two years you’ve been partners, how he’s the only person you’ve ever trusted with your life, how you always work to come back to him. You think about the butterflies that stirred in your stomach the first time you met him, when he shook your hand and gave you the prettiest smile you’d ever seen, the same smile he has plastered on his face right now as looks down at you.
Sitting up, you look at Bucky Barnes, chin resting in your palm lazily.
Just thinking about being super Domestic with Aone! He starts thinking about what a great little wife you’d be and how sweet you are. One day you casually mention what a great father he’d be if you guys had children and it does something to him! 💓
you treat him so gentle- a big man like him coming home to you after a long day of work always brings out a near overwhelming need to take care of him, to be there at every beck and call, waiting for him so pretty, looking towards the door with every second coming closer to him coming how to you.
everything you do for him doesn’t go unnoticed, aone doesn’t say much, but he returns your sweet kisses with an equal amount of love and adoration for his sweet little wife.
you’re near ravenous when he finally comes home, shrugging off his coat, boots taken off at the door, handkerchief in hand to wipe any lingering dust and dirt from his hands- not wanting to dirty any surface you’d spent all day cleaning. he’s even apprehensive in giving you his coat- looking at you with pinched lips, grunting while gently placing it in your waiting hands.
he doesn’t touch you until he’s all showered, even when you insist that it’s okay, the dirt beneath his nails from working, from being outside all day makes him feel dirty, you’re his princess, his pretty baby- how could he ever think to lay a soiled finger onto your soft and well taken care of skin...
he usually relents to your whines, begrudgingly bending down to place a quick kiss to your pretty lips- puckered and waiting for his own to press onto yours. he makes a straight line to the bathroom, showering, rolling his shoulders back once he steps out- towel secured ‘round his hips, and once again walking in a practiced route to your shared room.
he doesn’t change, he can’t because as soon as he’s out, you’re sat on the bed. pillows, blankets- comforter fluffed daily in anticipation for him to fuck you.
eyes eagerly drinking in his every step, water running down rounded out muscle, not so defined- not anymore. the home cooked meals that you make for him has treated him well, form fluffed out with muscle that’s more fitted for his job, it’s dense and packed in, thick. it makes your pussy throb.
“how was work papa?” you question sweetly, legs spreading wide to receive his body, slick folds wetly (and loudly) parting for him while you pin your knees on either side of you, giggling at the way he sucks a breath in every time, eyes looking at the pussy he so adores, mouth salivating.
he loves coming home to you.
he loves how soft you are, warm- thinks there’s nothing better smelling and more comforting than sinking deep- so very deep into the tight and wet heat that is your pretty pussy.
letting the towel fall at the foot of the bed, his cock hangs in a thick curve over his heavy balls, pretty white pubes decorating his crotch, tummy clenching in anticipation, it’s a sight seeing him get hard, thick length bending with how big he is- even fully hard there’s a delicious curve, gravity not too kind to him.
“good... i missed you.” aone mumbles. huffing as his now cleaned, calloused- thick... such thick hands reach to finally touch, soothing up the expanse of your legs, wondering how someone so pretty- so beautiful is laid out beneath him, pussy drooling for a cock like his.
you purr, smiling, body twisting- pushing up as his hands press you down.
“missed you more... was thinking about you- ‘bout something in particular.” you mumble, lidded eyes wandering up to his neck. watching the pretty blooming blush roll down all the way to his chest- wanting to reach up and remark and fading hickies, fingertips ghosting along faded lines of your nails dug in the moment of overwhelming passion.
“hm.” he hums, giving you his whole attention as you speak- looking at your lips as you form every word, planting heavy hands to the apex of your legs, digging the pads of every finger into the giving flesh, encouraging you to continue with a nod, all while kneading and squishing your body.
“was just thinking what a good papa you are- was thinking if you’d give me a baby... to keep me company while you leave.” you breathe, pulse quickening at the thought- head spinning the second the last word tumbles free, all because you’re suddenly pulled down.
it’s near audible, a lowly groan spreading forth from the deepest parts of his chest while he huffs- pale chest rising and falling rapidly, cock visibly throbbing- balls clenching, there’s even a moment where he thinks he may cum.
“f-fuck- a baby?” he exhales, tipping his head back, the stutter making you look at him with a hint of curiosity.
blinking away the base need to shove his cock inside, blinking away the need to push your head into the bed and dump load after load of his cum inside you, all with the intent to make you round with his kid he pulls your legs up he comes down towards you.
all to make you fat and pretty and waddle around while he takes you hand in hand everywhere you need to go.
he doesn’t realizes his hips have instinctively rutted down into you- too caught up in the thought of holding you while fat with a baby the two of you made.
hands dimpling your soft skin- muscle memory carrying every action, already folding you down, knees nearly pressing against your chest, heavy cock slotted onto your cunt, squished between your bent legs.
“i’ll give you a baby. my princess wants a baby.” he grunts, gone dizzy. all of this taking place in mere seconds of you spilling the thought. he says it like it’s a command from you, tunnel vision suckering him in, barely able to see you in the absolute need to give his princess everything her pretty heart desires.
you don’t know where he’s gone, obviously lost in a heavy headspace- popping the head of his still throbbing cock into you, crying in suspense. this is all so exciting, he’s always so eager to bring you what you want, always willing to move the stars and moon for you and now he’s answering to the fantasy you built up all day.
“p-papa!” you squeal, sucking in a breath when he barrels into you with a near punishing thrust.
this is different, he’s different. he’s always cautious with every thrust, but there’s no regret or remorse while the second slam of his hips knock into you. kicking legs just barely able to squirm at all with the way they’re perched on his broad shoulders, you watch as they dangle, watch while he stares you down, his own body moving with intent- drilling into your sopping pussy.
“papa!” you yell this time, soft hands holding onto his arms, his large palms resting on either side of your face while he folds himself down, the creak, sway of the bed dangerously loud- sucking every breath from inside your lungs.
he’s never been this rough, never- and your lips curl with every open mouth yell.
he fucks into you like you’re not there, thick cock splitting you open- filling your cunt, bringing you so very early into a blinding orgasm.
it’s so wet- eyes wet, pussy wet while you squirt and gush, crying out tiny little whimpers of his name as every wave of orgasm takes you. it splatters all over his thighs, painting his tummy, dripping back down onto you hotly.
this is all he needs, needs you wet and messy, needs your pussy swollen and slicked with need and cum so you can take such a big cock easier- if you take it easier he can use every inch of strength he has to dig the swollen and still throbbing cockhead right up to your cervix. he can almost see the swollen ring so ready to take his cum, displacing your own weepy orgasm, making room to receive all of his own thick, milky orgasm.
“good girl- my good girl.” aone nearly chokes, unfocused eyes zoning down onto your bent form, pussy lips and folds sucked in and out in with each drag.
you’re melted, reduced to a babbling little baby under his large mass- doing so well, taking someone so strong and so big like him with nothing more than a few overstimulated tears. drool forming at the corner of your mouth, the only thing you can do is wait for his cum like the pretty princess you are.
“papa- ‘ts too much- too much.” you gasp, wandering eyes roaming up his neck, landing on hardened eyes.
“no- no it’s not. you want a baby. i’m giving you a baby.” he speaks- knowing this is hard on someone treated like a doll, soft hands digging into the veined arms of his, same hands that never work too hard for anything at all, all because he insists on treating you with any and everything.
and just like everything else, he knows he needs to cut this short- knows you’re tired and wanting to drift off onto a nap, so aone fucks you deeply.
he needs to bend further and kiss away the tears spilling down your soft and plush cheeks- heated with the exertion he’s putting your body under, gently apologizing. the high and heated coiled need to breed you slowly waning, now just needing to paint your pussy with his cum.
“it’s okay- it’s okay, papa loves you- you’re okay.”
the gentleness, lowly and grunted words truly bring you peace, trembling under him- hiccuping at the thrusts he gives you, exhaling heavy when he tips forward to an orgasm finally.
sealing hips down to your own, rutting with securely placed knees down onto the bed.
he pushes you up a good amount, crinkling the bedding around your limp body, pistoning shallow thrusts, each one stickier- messier, harder to deliver as he cums. thick cock pulsating in need, sinking into such silky gummy walls all shaped to the form of his large cock.
he huffs equally shallow breaths, tired- so tired from an intense fucking, balls squeezing up tight to his body, every contraction followed by a deep squish of him to you.
“fuck- fuck.” aone groans, his shaking form transferred down to you, slowly bringing your aching legs off the perch of his shoulders. he gathers the last bit of strength residing in his body to take care of you, once more- with a gentleness only found in someone who’s been cautious of their own strength their whole life, he places your legs onto the bed.
you’re still dizzy as he does so, unable to keep the seizing of your muscles down- body heated and sweaty with how he folded your form into his desired state, slowly blinking your eyes more and more open.
blurry gaze landing on him, watching with a slowly growing smile as he looks at you with a reserved guilt.
“it’s okay.” you whisper, only able to whisper for the time being- “i’m okay.”
but even with what you say, he brings a large palm to your tummy, holding it there- reminding himself that it was to give you what you wanted. you just look so broken now, limbs unmoving, all dead weight while he positions your body much more comfortably.
with a nod, he pushes down any worry to hold you tight- swollen muscle wrapping your precious body up. your giggles bringing forth a near exasperated smile from him- wondering how his sweet baby still can be so... sweet after being fucked like that.
sleepy face burying into the crook of his neck while he fights to keep his softened cock inside you, pulling his princess onto him, slotting the plushness of you against his body.
“pretty.” he mumbles once the two of you are relaxed, basking in the tiredness throbbing throughout two fucked out forms.
“pretty baby.” aone whispers, bringing down a large hand to your tummy.
you can’t lift your head off his chest to give him a sweet smile, instead giggling with how well your papa takes care of you, how well he loves and gives you everything your pretty pink heart wants.
description: in which he surprises her with a visit, and she surprises him with something else
pairing: corpse x female!reader
masterlist (one, two)
i was inspired by corpse hand delivering sykkuno’s hoodie so i had to write a hella fluffy imagine on it
“I swear to God Rae!” you exclaimed as Rae giggled at her actions.
The two of you were streaming GTA V together at Rae had taken an amusement to stealing cars and driving them towards you, narrowly avoiding killing you every time. For obvious reasons, this wasn’t exactly keeping you under the radar of the cops. Quite the opposite, actually. You were spending most of your time running from both Rae and the cops.
“We’re never gonna make any money at this rate,” you told her. “We’re gonna spend it all on bail fees.”
“Don’t be so dramatic!” Rae argued. “Just jump in, we’ll go to the next job.”
“I can’t jump in when you’re trying to run me over!”
Rae giggled again as your chat joked about what she was doing to you. You rolled your eyes at everyone, but you couldn’t stop the smile that was on your face.
Before you could jump into the car that Rae had recently stolen, you heard a knock at your door. You paused a moment, confused. You weren’t expecting anyone, and you hadn’t ordered any take out or anything. You decided to ignore it, figuring maybe it was a wrong place or something and if no one answered they’d leave. But the knock came again, this time a bit louder and faster.
“Hey, don’t get us killed, I gotta go AFK for a second,” you told Rae. You heard just a piece of her response as you set your headphone aside and made your way to your front door.
You were looking down when you opened the door, prepared to tell whoever was there that they were at the wrong house, but instead your gaze landed on a pair of familiar hands holding a black and red hoodie, folded in a way that all you could see was the familiar fanart of Corpse Husband.
Against your better judgement, you let your eyes trail up to the face of your visitor, the real life version of the face on the hoodie, smiling down at you. Your eyes widened. It was the first time you had ever seen Corpse’s face, and it felt illegal to be standing here looking at him. You quickly covered your eyes, willing yourself to forget what you had saw.
“(Y/N),” Corpse laughed. “You don’t have to cover your eyes.”
“I saw your face!” you said. “I-I saw your actual face! I have to gouge my eyes out or something!”
You felt his cold hands taking hold of your own, lowering them from your eyes so you could look up at him again. Although you tried to stop yourself, you let your eyes wander over his face, taking in every detail. It occurred to you in that moment that this was the first time you were seeing the face of a man you had been crushing on for the past six months.
“Come in,” you said, realizing that he was still just standing outside. “Come, get comfortable. I’m-I’m streaming, I’ll be right back.”
“You don’t have to end your stream early because of me.”
That voice! It comes from an actual person! A real, living person!
“You really think I’ll be able to return to my stream for another few hours while you’re here?” you questioned. “It’s fine, it’s just GTA with Rae. She’ll probably play with Sykkuno instead when I get off.”
You felt like you were in a daze as you returned to your room. You quickly told Rae you were hopping off stream and you’d explain to her - and to your viewers - why later on. Your chat started asking what was wrong, but you ended the stream before responding.
When you returned to your living room, you saw the back of Corpse’s curly, brown haired head sitting on your couch. Your heart was racing with so many different emotions. You couldn’t believe he was actually here, that the voice you had befriended nearly half a year ago was actually sat in your house.
“Wait a second,” you said, realizing something. “Don’t you live like...five hours away? Corpse, did you drive five hours to come visit me?”
He looked up at you and shrugged. “Yeah, so?”
“So?! Corpse, you have nerve issues! You can’t even sit straight for ten minutes!” You were suddenly starting to feel guilty, although obviously you hadn’t asked Corpse to come visit you.
“I’m fine!” he assured you. “Do I look like I’m in pain? I wanted to come give you your merch, and I figured this would be a nice surprise too!”
You went to sit next to him, your heart beating faster the closer you got to him. You were sure this was just a dream and you’d wake up in bed at any moment. To test your theory, you slowly inched your finger forward to softly poke Corpse’s cheek. He chuckled as you jumped back, shocked by the success of your touch.
“You’re real!” you blurted, causing more laughter.
“I am real. Are you surprised?”
“Just a little,” you admitted.
You both sat in silence, just looking at one another. You weren’t really sure what to say. It was like every possible topic you could bring up, or every joke you could make, was suddenly gone. It was obvious Corpse was feeling the same as he was usually the one who could keep a conversation going.
“Try on your hoodie,” he finally said, passing you the hoodie he was still holding to you. You took it excitedly and slipped it on over your head. The warm material engulfed you immediately. It was definitely a few sizes too big, but that was your favorite part - the bagginess of it.
“It’s perfect,” you told him. “Thank you so much for bringing it to me.”
“I told you I would. I really wanted you to have at least one article of my merch. You were so excited for it when I released it.”
You held the hoodie close to your nose, taking in the scent of Corpse that still lingered on it. There was so much happiness bubbling up inside of you that you felt like you were going to burst at any moment. You really did not think things could get any better.
“Can I hug you?” you asked.
Corpse smiled and opened his arms as a response. You immediately lunged into them, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly. It was the last confirmation you needed that this was all real, that Corpse was really there.
The hug was prolonged and eventually Corpse was pulling you into his lap, squeezing you back as if afraid that you would disappear too. You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling his curly locks brush against your face. You never wanted to let go, and you could tell that Corpse felt the same way.
When you finally pulled away from the hug, you looked down into Corpse’s eyes. His hands were still resting on your hips, and yours were on his shoulders. Before you could stop yourself, you were leaning forward to kiss him. The minute your lips collided, it was like someone had set off fireworks inside your small apartment.
You pulled away almost immediately, realizing what you had done. “I-I’m sorry. That-that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”
There was a small smile on Corpse’s face as his hands came up to cup your face and pulled you to him, attaching his lips to yours again.
Just when I thought today couldn’t get any better.
Forgetting the world around you, you became lost in one another. Your arms were back around Corpse’s neck, holding on to him as if you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go. One of his hands was still on your cheek as the other slipped behind your head, your hair tangling around his fingers. There was so much passion in the kiss that it made your head spin, and when the two of you finally pulled away it felt like your head was spinning.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Corpse told you. “I may have been hoping something like this would happen when I got here.”
“What?” you questioned. “Why did you never tell me how you were feeling?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Corpse teased. “I was always flirting with you, I had hoped you’d get the message.”
“Corpse, you flirt with everyone!”
The two of you laughed. You couldn’t help but dip your head to kiss him once more. His lips were intoxicating, and you just wanted to kiss them all the time.
“How long were you planning on staying?” you asked.
“I don’t know. I was going to see how well this visit went and go from there.”
You giggled and cuddled into Corpse’s arms. “Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. I think I’ll have a hard time letting you go now, though.”
in which steve is scared of losing you again after the blip took you away from him for 5 years
tags : flufffff w a little angst bc that’s the best kind of fluff, mentions of death (endgame can go suck my left tit) tom hardy cause i love him sm i sat thru mad max fury road for him and tat says alot anyways steve can’t lose u again he’s been thru a lot :((
fic : one shot
|| gif by @imaginedreamwrite ||
Steve knows he’s just being paranoid.
However that doesn’t stop him from racing around the house, your name on his lips.
The two storey house tucked away in the outskirts of a small town Steve set up for the both of you. The smile that crept to your face as you tried to adjust your eyes to the bright sunlight when he took off the blindfold, priceless.
He sprints past the framed photographs that you’d meticulously picked out to fit the “aesthetic” of the wall. Bowls of popcorn you two had been too lazy to wash last night were still sprawled on the coffee table facing the tv.
He can feel the panic rising in his chest cause he can’t go back. He can’t go back to feeling how he did for five years. How empty he felt without you. How he longed to hold your hand and tell you how much he loved you. How he hated walking up to an empty spot next to him.
Taking a deep breath, he tries to focus and calm down. Craning his ears, he can almost make out light footsteps trailing up to him. It’s faint but it’s all it takes for Steve to dart out of the house and follow the sound.
You walk up the steep hill leading to your house, carrying a basket of strawberries that a new friend had graciously gifted you with. A friend? Maybe a new acquaintance was the correct term.
You could imagine Nat teasing you with her lips curled up into a shit eating grin about how domestic you’ve gotten.
Picking strawberries? Maybe it’s time you went for the monthly community meetups.
You’d roll your eyes, pushing back the grin creeping up your face. Get in a punch or two.
If she’d let you.
Two months. That’s how long it’d been since everything became normal. Well, semi-normal.
But it still felt like yesterday when you were on your knees, crying for Nat. Vision. Tony. His 5 year old he left behind.
It’d been Steve who held you tight, rocking you back and forth. His own heart breaking at the sight of you.
It was always Steve. Who smelt like that one laundry softener he always used cause once you’d drunkenly spilled that you liked the scent. Steve who always ate the yolk cause it tasted like “slimey goo” to you.
Steve, who was running up to you in a daze.
You let out a oof as he crashes into you, your basket dropping from your hands.
“You do remember you’re 220 pounds of just pure muscle, right?” You chuckle, nesting your head right in the crook of his neck like always.
You can hear him smile, his lips ghosting around your head.
But something’s off.
“What’s wrong?” Pulling your head back, you look up to his cerulean blue eyes that had you swooning over him the day you met him.
“S’nothing.” He smiles, his hands still wrapped around your waist, gripped a little too tight.
“We both know I’m gonna get it out of you.”
A deep bellowed laugh rumbles from his chest as he leans in to kiss your forehead.
“It’s stupid, really. I woke up and you weren’t there. The next thing I know, I’m back there. Back there during those five years without you.” He mumbles, his voice trailing off.
You place your hands on his cheeks, tiptoeing slightly.
“Steven Grant Rogers, I’m not leaving you. Ever. Unless Tom Hardy comes in the picture.”
“I’d just take him out of the picture.”
“America’s spangled sweetheart murdering an innocent man? What will people say?”
“That he did it for love.” He gives a smug grin, patting his chest.
It’s a long time of you two just holding each other, before he notices the strawberries all over the ground.
Six of Crows - Kaz Brekker x Reader, slight fluff, slight angst
tw: gunshot wound, medical stitches, mention of gun violence, mentions of blood, slightly ooc kaz because have you tried to write him softly?
word count: 1.4k
prompt: “I don’t trust anyone… but you’re not just anyone.”
A/N: 1) this doesn’t seem to take place at any given point in canon but i want wylan and matthias to be there, sue me, and 2) do i know that there is no greek mythology is the grishaverse? yes. does that stop me from mentioning pandora’s box? no.
summary: Kaz Brekker is far from just being anyone. And maybe, so are you.
"You're quiet." Wylan bumped your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts.
There was a particular kind of calm that descended after a shootout. When pistols stopped smoking and adrenaline had left the bloodstream, the cool weight of evening fell back on your shoulders and managed to settle differently. For Jesper, it meant more jokes than usual. For Inej, more prayer. For Nina, it meant more grumbling, and for Matthias, more smiles. You weren't always sure what it meant for you, but tonight, it meant pensivity.
The walk back to the Slat was victorious. The streets of Ketterdam were empty and unusually quiet, thanks to Wylan's affinity toward bombs and blowing half of the cobblestones right off the street. The tranquility wasn't typical, but somehow, it was comforting. Perhaps even invigorating. How often did Ketterdam fall silent? Especially for canal rats like you?
Maybe if you still had a slow trickle of adrenaline, you would have commemorated the moment - maybe by getting waffles? But it was late, and after taking a bullet to the side after getting a little too close to the enemy, the only thing you wanted was to wash all of the grime off of your face and fall asleep. Maybe you'd celebrate after a good night's rest - Saints providing that such a thing existed in the Barrel.
"Am I quiet? Or are you slowly going deaf from all of your 'science experiments?'"
Wylan flushed a little. Even after all this time, he was so easy to tease. What made it even funnier was that he always managed some witty comeback or another, all while his cheeks were a shocking 'embarrassment pink.' Wylan opened his mouth to speak—
"Definitely quiet!" Jesper called from in front of you, one of his arms slung around Inej's shoulder, the other twirling a pistol.
Wylan let out a scoff of admiration, and you mumbled under your breath - something about Jesper being an irritating, smart mouthed idiot.
"What was that, (Y/n)?"
"You're annoying, Jesper!"
"Well, I'm glad something can make you lively again." Jesper turned his head to toss you a wink, and you rolled your eyes.
Wylan bumped your shoulders together, again, careful not to jostle you too much. "You're not quiet now. Just seething."
"Just tired," you corrected, passing the redhead a lazy smile.
"Admitting that is admitting weakness."
Kaz walked behind you and the rest of the group, but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. You turned around and walked backward so you could face him.
To anyone else walking the street, the Bastard of the Barrel was just more brooding than usual - his tone curter, his eyes sharper, the lines on his face deeper than they had the right to be. To you, though, Kaz was tired. His leg was stiff from the fight, giving him more trouble than usual, and his jaw was set in a rigid line as to not give away his weakness.
The Slat wasn't too far, now, but even after getting inside, there would be stairs to climb, and a hell of a lot of them were so worn down, they might buckle at any given weight.
It would be a rough night; it already had been.
You just sighed. "Admitting that is trust."
Kaz held your gaze. For a long moment, you couldn't figure what he was thinking. Kaz Brekker was always considering something, and after a while, you had gotten good at knowing just what he was thinking, when.
But not this time. Kaz was a sphinx to you during that baited moment - inexplicable, an enigma. What made it worse was that it was deliberate.
Kaz raised his eyebrows and looked down at his cane, hitting the ground with more force than before.
"We're all tired."
The night was filled with the quiet once more, but with every step you took toward the Slat, the low din of unruly jeers and shouts filled your brain like cotton on a wound.
You sat on the floor of your room, a bowl of water before you, a haphazard pile of medical supplies to your left. Nina had told you that she wasn't a Healer when she began to seal your wound earlier, and you had said you didn't want to waste time while still exposed on the streets - by all accounts, Nina did a decent job with the three or so minutes you allowed her. But Saints, someone should have told you to stuff your pride and let Nina work on you just a bit longer. Maybe then you wouldn't be sitting on the floor of your room, stitching up a wound with supplies you nicked from Muzzen.
You had just finished your stitches (you still needed to thank Inej for teaching you how) when you heard Kaz walking up the steps.
You wrapped up your wound as best you could. You were pushing down your shirt when you heard him speak.
"I wouldn't trust just anyone in the Dregs."
You washed your hands clean as best you could and sent Kaz a wayward glance, noting how he stood in your doorway - as though he wasn't quite sure if he belonged.
"I've been in Ketterdam too long—" You grabbed a towel and wiped your face, trying to rid yourself of the dirt and grime. You turned back to Kaz "—I don't trust anyone."
He nodded as though agreeing with your judgment. But it was too quick - too relenting. He turned to go.
"But you're not just anyone, Kaz."
The Bastard of the Barrel froze. It seemed to you that his grip on his cane tightened. Perhaps it was a side effect from the blood loss or maybe even a fast-acting infection from that suture needle, but it felt like something sucked all the air out of the room.
You turned to face him properly.
"C'mon, we've both known it for longer than we care to admit. I'm doing us a mercy - putting it to rest."
Silence, still. If the Slat were up in flames, you doubted you would have noticed. There was nothing else here - it was just you, Kaz, and the space that lay between.
You eased your legs out in front of you, putting your arms out behind you and leaning on your palms. The floor was cool - like the night had been, earlier, when you were talking away from a gunfight. The world was somehow smaller, then - like you had held it in your grasp.
Kaz was still half turned, but you could see his profile, and once again, his thoughts were under lock and key.
"You can either take it or leave it, Kaz. But whatever you decide to choose, know that you chose it."
He spoke sooner than you expected. "You're not just anyone, either."
Your mouth went dry. You weren't sure what you had been expecting or even hoping. Hope was still trapped inside Pandora's jar, and even the barest inkling of it could have destroyed your whole world. Hope belonged to the innocent and the pious, and you hadn't been either in a long time. You weren't sure what you had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't that.
And for some reason, you could fathom how Kaz Brekker could have ever said such a thing and meant it.
Maybe Kaz didn't think you heard him, because he affirmed it, turning to you. "You're not just anyone, (Y/n)."
"Not just another soldier in your ranks?"
You wanted to laugh, but it came out as more of a breath. You settled for a lopsided smile instead. "That's practically a proposal, coming from you."
"If I could offer you more, I would."
You looked at Kaz as he stood in the doorway. He was exhausted and beaten at his own game, but there was nothing but sincerity and truth swimming in his eyes, nothing but honestly dripping from every syllable. Had you ever seen Kaz the way he was, now? To take his own words, he was admitting a weakness. Earnestness was a defect in the Barrel. Vulnerability was a sin.
"It's not much," you conceded. You moved your outstretched leg so that you could tap his shoe - toe to toe. Kaz watched the slow movement carefully, but never pulled away. "But for now, it's good enough."
taglist: @musicallisto, @catsbooksandmusic // message me if you want to be added!
Summary: What they don’t tell you in bootcamp is that trying to fall asleep next to your co-worker, the one that you’re insanely attracted to and might have the tiniest crush on, who also hates your guts and kind of would rather turn himself over to HYDRA than hold a real conversation with you, while sharing the same bed, is impossible. There is no way in hell you’re going to be able to fall asleep next to Bucky.
Characters: Bucky Barnes/Plus-size (f)Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut (vaginal fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, bit of a Dom Bucky Barnes), language, insecurity (weight issues, a little perceived fatphobia which is wiped out really soon after)
Word Count: 6120
A/N: This is a tumblr request for @buckybarnes101 who requested a Bucky/Plus-sized reader enemies to lovers who have to share one bed with smut. I loved this request and really hot to make something hot and rough and fast! Thank you so much for the request - enjoy!!
main masterlist | AO3
It finally happened, the one thing you prayed would never ever happen, the thing you’ve been dreading since you started joining James Buchanan Barnes on his stealth missions, the event that will inevitably spark your downward spiral into doom, destroying the crumbs of the relationship you’ve managed to build with him.
“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he says, barreling through the motel room like a ping pong ball with a little too much pent up energy.
You shrug your bag off your tired shoulder, letting it fall to the ground, not caring about how dirty the carpeting must be.
“At least it’s a queen,” you say, toeing off your boots. “I’ve had worse with Steve.”
Bucky turns to glare at you over his shoulder. “You’ve shared a bed with Steve?” he says, accusation rising in his tone. You stare at him like he’s crazy.
“I’m sorry—are you saying you haven’t? ‘Cause I call bullshit on that.”
He doesn’t answer, choosing to sift through his duffel bag instead. You shrug despite the fact that he can’t see you.
“I mean, it’s pretty routine, isn’t it? I’ve shared with Natasha, too. Sometimes you just have to make do.”
“Yeah but it’s Natasha,” he says like it matters. “I can’t believe you’ve slept with Steve.”
“God, Bucky, it’s only weird if you make it weird, and you’re making it weird.”
He straightens now, body stiff, one of his hidden holsters hanging from his vibranium hand. He doesn’t look at you and you’re too tired to start a fight—much less finish it—so you hope he just goes ahead and fucks off to the shower which you know he’s getting ready to do. He’s always been selfish like that. But it’s also not so selfish, you think, for someone like Bucky to want to wash the missions away as soon as possible.
But the bastard could ask sometimes, couldn’t he?
“I’m going first,” he says, just like always, and you bite your tongue.
You turn and sigh, focusing your glare on the one bed filling the motel room. If there was one thing you always hoped for after a mission, it was not to end up in the same bed as James Barnes. The two of you notoriously don’t get along, for whatever reason that may be (although you’re pretty sure it has to do with the fact that he thinks you’re a useless addition to the team), but there is literally no denying the attraction you felt for him.
The man is hot, and he’s had a couple, or maybe most, of the screws in his head knocked loose.
You have it bad for him.
Oh, but James Barnes is not fond of you. Not that he would ever admit it, but the dude has some serious fatphobia going on. You’re ninety-nine-percent sure of that.
Alone in the bedroom, you start to strip out of your tac-suit, letting your gun belt and the rest of your holsters fall in a ring around your feet. As soon as the heaviness is off you, relieving some of the ache in your body, you think about just falling straight into the bed blood and dirt and grime and all. But you’re also sure Bucky would lose his mind if you did that.
Instead, you look to the floor length mirror just in front of the motel door, frowning.
Your skin-tight suit doesn’t do much to hide all the lumps and bumps and dips and hips all squished into it, and when you’re covered in tiny cuts and burns on every visible patch of skin, you can’t help but think about how Bucky sees you.
The useless fat Avenger! How fun.
You turn to the side a little, glancing at the fullness of your ass. Nice. A redeeming quality of the extra weight you carry atop the strong muscle you’ve built in your short time as part of the Superhero Menagerie. Not having a gimmick of any kind really forced you into working for the position—and now you’re not just the useless fat chick, you’re the super hacking, super gun toting, mega-badass fat Avenger instead.
The shower squeaks and the water stops, signaling the end of Bucky’s shower.
You look up to the ceiling, praying to some god to hear you that everything will work out just fine.
And then Bucky exits the bathroom, steam flooding from the room, wrapped only in a thinning motel towel secured by his metal hand at his waist. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen his chiseled figure, but there’s something that jumps up your throat at the thought that you have to shower in that same shower and then sleep in the same bed as the bed that body is sleeping in.
“All yours,” he murmurs, not even looking at you.
“Great.” You grab your change of clothes and head for the bathroom, trying to think about anything except him.
When you smell less like blood and asbestos and more like strawberries and peaches, hair damp and a clean t-shirt and sleep shorts sticking to your heat-splotched body, you enter the bedroom once again. Bucky is sitting against the headboard, going through his phone now that you’re both safe and secure in France, dressed only in a pair of sweatpants.
Okay, act cool. Just get into bed and pretend like it’s not weird.
You pad over to the bed, grimacing at the feel of the gross carpet beneath your clean feet, hopping beneath the sheets as quick as possible. If Bucky looks at you, then you don’t see it, because you are focused solely on not looking at him. Petty? Perhaps. Keeping your sanity intact? Absolutely.
“You tired?” he asks and you snort.
“Extremely. You don’t have to turn off the light if you aren’t ready to sleep, though.” You situate yourself as far on the edge of the bed as possible—something you’ve never done with any of the other people you’ve been forced to share a bed with. You and Natasha aren’t new to sleeping together, especially after some of the nights out you’ve shared, but you and Steve definitely cuddled, though you wouldn’t admit it to anyone. Steve’s just kinda lonely, you think. And to be honest, you’re a little touch-starved yourself.
But you know you take up a lot of space and you’re sure Bucky hates that, so you bury yourself under the motel sheets and snuggle up to your pillow, trying to make yourself as small as humanly possible.
After a moment, Bucky asks, “Are you comfortable like that?”
You crack an eye open and twist to look at him. “What?”
He shrugs. “Didn’t you tell me not to make it weird? You’re making it weird now.”
“You already made it weird.”
“I’m trying not to make it weird anymore.”
“A little late for that—”
“God, just, c’mere.”
Bucky grabs you around your waist, your shirt riding up, and pulls you closer. You shriek in surprise, eyes wide, as he manhandles you until you’re away from the edge and your back is pressed against his bare chest.
“There—that’s better,” he says, nearly whispering in your ear he’s so close to you now. He unwinds his arm from your middle and reaches up to hit the light, the room going completely dark save for the little sliver of artificially light pouring in from underneath the shitty curtains.
You don’t even know what to say. Bucky’s rendered you completely speechless.
First of all, the man has never touched you for no reason like that before. Second of all, how the hell did he just move you like you weighed the same as the pillow beneath his head? Third of all, he hates you, so why is he so bothered about you and your comfort? Fourth, he just moved you around like you weighed literally nothing.
And boy, did it send a flood of pleasure straight to your core, almost as if your body just gave the green light to your libido. The perfect time too, y’know, when you’re sharing a bed with your co-worker who hates your guts.
Play it cool. Just play it fucking cool.
“Uh, are you okay?” you ask him in return, and Bucky shifts so his back is pressed up to yours.
“Yeah,” he says. “Go to sleep.”
“‘Kay. Good night.”
What they don’t tell you in bootcamp is that trying to fall asleep next to your co-worker, the one that you’re insanely attracted to and might have the tiniest crush on, who also hates your guts and kind of would rather turn himself over to HYDRA than hold a real conversation with you, while sharing the same bed, is impossible. There is no way in hell you’re going to be able to fall asleep next to Bucky.
Your brain turns and turns and turns, body straining to stay as still as possible to not upset the super soldier sleeping right beside you. What does he have against you? Why does he hate you so much? You really thought once you started going on more missions—proving you were worthy to be a part of the team—that he’d start coming around and seeing your value. But you feel like all it’s served is to make him hate you more, especially now that you tag along on his stealth operations as his techie.
Maybe he knows you’re into him, and maybe that’s why he never wants to be around you. But, god, it’s not like you think you have a chance with him in any capacity, and you’d pass up tens of thousands of chances to be with him if he’d just be your friend!
Because Bucky deserves another friend, doesn’t he?
As if he can read your mind—or maybe it’s just god playing tricks on you—Bucky shifts around in the bed again, turning toward you. You don’t know if he’s sleeping yet or not, but you curl in on yourself a little to give him more space to stretch out.
Bucky’s vibranium arm slides over your waist, cool metal grazing by the sliver of skin peeking out from underneath your shirt, and when you flinch from it, he pulls you flush against him. Behind you, the bare skin of his chest is warm, almost too hot. Super soldiers run warmer than normal humans, and you think he’d be nice to have in bed more often.
In your ear, Bucky groans in his sleep and it makes you shiver despite the heat radiating through your back. He must be like Steve, wanting to cuddle in his sleep. No one ever wants to admit it out loud, but you’re the best thing to cuddle in the Tower. Being squishy and soft atop hard, strong muscle means you’re more comfortable than all the rigid bodies of the Avengers. Maybe Bucky needs this.
But you wish you could fall asleep so you’ll stop thinking about how much you’ve wanted this since the day you saw him, the new Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, hair tied up in a messy bun and stubble thick and dark, vibranium arm hidden within the sleeve of his leather jacket.
Suddenly, everything is too hot. The room, the motel sheets, the pillow beneath your head. Bucky Barnes behind you, arm slung over your body, holding you to him. He’s sleeping, you know, the quiet rumble of his breathing a song in your ear, chest rising and falling against your back. You shift a little, trying to get more comfortable as the warmth starts to become unbearable. When that doesn’t help, you shift again, trying to pull your back away from Bucky, but it sends your bottom half straight into his.
A growl brushes by your ear all breathy and low and Bucky’s arm tightens around you, bringing you back to him.
Damn, who knew Bucky was such a cuddler when he’s sleeping?
You wait a few minutes, keeping still, until you’re sure he’s slipped back into unconsciousness. His nose is nearly pressed into your hair, his breaths upsetting the small wisps of hairs that curl at your ear. Sweat is starting to collect underneath your shirt where your bodies are connected and you know you’ll never be able to fall asleep like this.
Again, you shift toward the edge of the bed, trying to pull yourself out of Bucky’s grasp, but he drags you back into his embrace. The swell of your ass meets his thigh and in a panic, you move around to try and put space between the two of you again, but Bucky lets out a strangled-sounding groan, hissing through his teeth.
“You gotta stop moving, doll, or you’re not gonna like what happens next.”
He is not asleep.
“Bucky?” you squeak, eyes wide, frozen in place.
“Hm?” His metal hand sneaks underneath the hem of your shirt, fingers finding your soft skin and thumb starting to rub little circles just above your hip, a point of pleasure on your body. No one ever touches you here, and it takes everything you have not to press back into him, asking for more. Your breathing is heavier now as you try to control yourself.
“You aren’t—Why aren’t you sleeping?” you ask, sounding winded from the simplest act of him touching you.
“Hard to sleep when you’re next to me,” he murmurs in your ear, nose brushing up against the patch of skin behind it. Your eyes flutter closed. Every small touch feels like heaven. You never allow others to touch you more than necessary, but now Bucky is handling you so gently.
“I can’t sleep either,” you whisper. “Do you want me to go? I can take a walk.”
He makes a noise of disapproval. “Just stay still,” he says, almost begging. “Go to sleep.”
“It’s hot,” you whine. “You’re too hot.”
You can feel him smirk into the back of your neck. “You don’t gotta tell me, doll.”
“Shut up,” you say with a huff of frustration, wiggling in the bed to get your point across. Immediately, Bucky’s vibranium hand falls to your hip, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough for the flash of pain to turn to pleasure, holding you still.
“I said stop moving,” he says, and it's so close to a command that your teeth tear into your bottom lip as his voice sends shocks through your core. Now, hyperaware of how close your bodies are underneath the sheets, you realize your ass is pressed against his pelvis, not his thigh, and you’ve definitely been—
Bucky grinds into you, seething, breath ghosting over your ear, his cock hard and heavy in his sweatpants.
Wetness pools between your thighs, dampening the thin cotton panties you wear beneath your sleep shorts.
“Bucky,” you breathe his name. “What are you doing?”
“So tired of you teasin’ me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “I’ve put up with it for so long—too long—and I just knew you were gonna do it tonight, too. Only one fucking bed. You’re gonna kill me, baby.”
Your voice sounds so small when you whisper, “What are you talking about?”
Then Bucky lays a kiss to the back of your neck, trailing upward until he reaches the lobe of your ear, and pulls it into his mouth and between his teeth. You shiver, violently, unable to stop the reaction. It must please him because he yanks your hips back into him again, forcing you to grind on his bulge.
Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, muffling whatever sounds threaten to fall from your lips.
“Doll, you’ve been teasin’ me from the beginning. From the moment I saw you in your gear on the Berlin mission, all your curves on display in that tight little cat-suit you’re always wearing, armed to the teeth, handling all those guns looking so fuckin’ gorgeous.”
You swallow hard. The Berlin mission, your first stealth mission with Bucky, had gone sour and the two of you found yourselves in a gun fight that was never meant to happen. You’re pretty sure you walked back onto the quinjet covered in blood, bruised, and a gash in your thigh that made you wobble when you stood up, and Bucky didn’t even look at you as per usual. Bucky never looks at you on missions unless he absolutely has to.
“Is that why you never look at me?” you ask him, and you wish you could see his face right now, but all you can feel is his lips as they pepper kisses along the column of your throat, coaxing shudders and little squeaks out of you.
“You expect me to look at you without wanting to jump your bones, doll?” His nose caresses the spot at the top of your spine, his fingers melting at your hip and soothing the bruises you’re sure he’s already left. “That’s just askin’ too much, baby. How am I supposed to look at you and stop myself from kissin’ you silly?”
Pleasure flutters through your stomach, surging through the apex of your thighs.
“Then do it,” you tell him. Bucky goes still, unmoving, and you wonder if you’ve pushed too hard.
But then his voice is low, dark, in your ear. “You don’t know what you’re saying, doll.”
The honey dripping from your center, pooling in your underwear, says very differently. Instead of answering, you press your ass back into him, gyrating your hips straight upon his pelvis, rubbing against his clothed cock. Bucky chokes.
And then he’s up and above you, rolling your body beneath him, caging you between his arms. You nearly gasp when you look up at him, his blue eyes intense in a way you’ve never seen them before, his lips pink and swollen from biting—you’re sure yours look the same and he hasn’t even kissed you yet.
Bucky leans closer, his mouth only inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours. Your eyes threaten to flutter shut in anticipation but you force yourself to look at him, to take all of him in.
“If you want this, I won’t be able to hold myself back, doll. Wanted you too long. Need you.”
Then, he pulls back, eyes searching yours.
“But if you don’t,” he swallows, “then we’ll forget this ever happened, and everything will go back to normal.”
“Kiss me, sergeant,” you command, hand shooting up to tangle in his thick hair.
Bucky curses and then he’s on you before you have a chance to reach up and meet him halfway. His lips are rough, chapped, but plush and perfect against yours. He wastes no time, tongue licking into your mouth and meeting yours, tasting you for the first time. You respond eagerly, hand fisting in his hair, pulling him into you until you can’t tell where his body ends and yours begins.
When he’s satisfied with how kiss-drunk you look, lips swollen and eyes hazy, he moves to the juncture of your neck and shoulder and sinks his teeth into your skin, causing you to cry out. The pain and the pleasure mingle, like lovers, like you and Bucky, as his fingers take hold of your shirt and in one tug, the fabric pulls apart at the seams.
You don’t care—you can buy a new shirt. You need him to touch you.
Until you realize you aren’t wearing a bra and that your top half is completely bare to Bucky, the man who, before a minute ago, you thought hated you because you were fat. Because it was the only explanation you had. Because you’re insecure.
Your hands fall upon his chest, bracing against him, stopping him in his tracks. He pulls away from your neck to look at you, brows drawn together in confusion, and all you can do is try and cover yourself with your arms before he gets a peek. It’s dark, but super soldiers can see in the dark. A blessing and a curse.
“I don’t want you to look at me,” you whisper so quietly you realize no normal person would have been able to hear it. “I’m—I shouldn’t have let you—I’m so fat, Bucky.”
Bucky’s eyes widen.
“Baby, baby,” he soothes you, his flesh hand coming up to cradle your cheek, fingers brushing delicately over your skin. “You don’t believe me when I say I want to see you? Doll, your body drives me insane, and god, every time you get an attitude with me and you put your hands on your hips and you look at me all mad…”
Bucky groans and he rocks his pelvis into yours, hard cock hitting your center and making your breath hitch.
“You’re beautiful, baby. Gorgeous. Do you know how hard it is for me to be around you sometimes ‘cause you’re just so pretty? More than pretty, I don’t even know the words to tell you, baby. Please, please don’t hide yourself from me, let me look at you, let me touch you, baby. S’all I want to do is look at you for the rest of my life.”
You don’t realize you’re crying until Bucky’s thumb swipes a tear away and you blink, and he’s smiling at you so warmly, really looking at you, maybe for the first time ever since you’ve known him.
“You think so?” you ask, breathless. “Even though you’re so—so good, Bucky, so beautiful and so good.”
He rests his forehead against yours, inhaling your scent, your essence, your soul. You nuzzle into his palm, kissing the center of his skin where his lifeline sits among other small scars. Then, you pull your arms away from your body, moving to wrap them around his neck, fingers digging into his scalp as you tip your chin up to slant your mouth over his. Bucky returns your enthusiasm, tongue meeting yours sweetly, and then metal fingers are trailing up your side.
Bucky pulls away, searching your eyes for consent.
“Say you’re mine,” he begs. “Say you’re mine, baby, but if you do, I won’t be gentle.”
You look up at him from underneath your lashes, already heady with the feeling of Bucky wanting you, desiring every part of you.
“I’m yours,” you whisper, and the mood in the room shifts violently.
In an instant, Bucky pulls your arms away from where they’re wound around his neck and pins them over your head, metal fingers locked around both your wrists. It makes you arch into him and then his nose is tracing your sternum, a line down your center, cutting you in half until his flesh hand attaches to your breast and his lips find your nipple.
Just like he said, he’s not gentle, and it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, lids fluttering, as his teeth nip and tug at the delicate bud. His tongue follows the performance, sucking and soothing the pain away with sweet licks until he’s bored and moves onto the other one.
He lifts his head up to say, “Don’t move your hands,” and then his vibranium fingers find the hardened, sensitive nub and begin to twist and pull at it as his lips play with the other. The pleasure is overwhelming, the pain is a shocking reminder of who is playing your body like a symphony. You arch your breasts toward him, you roll your hips up to meet his bulge, you do anything you can to relieve the pressure that’s building in your core, screaming at you that you need his touch.
“Bucky,” you call out, moaning, struggling to keep your hands near the headboard.
“Do you need more, sweet girl?”
“Please,” you beg and press your center up to rub his cock. “It aches,” you whine.
“You gonna be a good girl for me? Let me touch you? Let me make the pain go away, baby?”
His words send new waves of pleasure through you, every part of you flushing with heat, your thighs squeezing together as if you can hide your leaking core from him.
“Yes, yes, yes, Bucky.”
He lays kisses on the underside of your breasts, just below them, like he’s following the lines of your ribs as he moves down toward your stomach—the part of you that you hate the most. You struggle underneath him.
“Not there,” you say as he places open-mouthed kisses on your soft belly. It tickles and makes you tremble and writhe.
He chuckles darkly. “I thought you said you were gonna be a good girl?” Both hands fall upon your hips, trapping you, fingers digging into your soft, pliant flesh as he nuzzles and licks and nips and kisses your stomach. You throw your head back, dizzy at the thought of what your body will look like tomorrow, purpled bruises made of passion.
“I’m a good girl,” you pant, mouth falling open as you struggle to catch your breath.
“Then let me touch you, doll. All of you—I want all of you.”
You hear the sound of fabric ripping before you feel the cool air rush over where your sleep shorts are no longer, Bucky tosses the tatters of fabric over the edge of the bed. He inhales sharply at the sight of you, hands roaming over the wide breadth of your hips as if he can’t even draw himself away, smoothing over your stretch marks with loving strokes until he finds the thick expanse of your bare thighs.
Bucky’s thumb brushes over your clothed cunt, panties drenched, and a strangled moan flies from your mouth as you press toward him, begging for more.
“This all for me?” he asks, voice gravelly. “My pretty baby is all wet like this for me? Christ, doll, you’re dripping.”
“Yes!” you shout as metal fingers hook around your underwear to rip them off, parting your lips to watch your slick seep from your aching core. “It’s all for you, Bucky, all of it.”
He groans at this. “Good girl,” he praises you. “That’s my good girl.”
And then he sinks two fingers into you, your juices soaking his hand almost immediately, and pumps into you like his life depends on it. The pleasure is too much, and when his thumb finds your clit and begins to slide over it, your knees try to close out of instinct, hips canting away from the pleasure. Bucky growls and wraps an arm around your hips, keeping you close, baring your naked body to him and him alone.
“You like that?” His voice is low, teasing, so fucking hot you can’t do anything but gasp for breath. “You’re sucking my fingers in, baby. So tight. Gotta work you open or you’re never gonna be able to take my cock, honey.”
You whimper his name, hips twitching under his grasp, crying out as every stroke of his fingers brings you closer and closer to the edge. When he adds a third, you think you might die from the mix of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls.
“You’re such a good girl,” he coos. “You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you? Been teasin’ me too long, and now you’ve gotta take it all, baby.”
He drives his fingers inside and hits the soft, spongy spot inside of you and it breaks you apart, tears you asunder, you’re arching off the bed and Bucky holds his thumb on your clit as you undulate upon his fingers. You can feel the gush of come that trickles down his thick fingers, and then he pulls out and places them in his mouth, licking your honey from the digits as the aftershocks of your orgasm wrack through you.
And when you can finally open your eyes, vision hazy, Bucky is looking at you with a mix of adoration and lust, licking your juice from his lips, grinning.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises again and the fire of pleasure and want and need ignites.
“Need you,” you whine, “right now, please, please sergeant.”
“Fuck,” he curses. “You don’t know what you do to me when you say that, doll.”
You definitely know what you do to him, and you’re gonna keep saying it and saying it until he’s yours, forever, until the end, until he’s buried so deep inside of you that you could die happy.
Staring up at him, your face flushed, hair sticking to your sweaty forehead and spread among the motel pillows, you think you might be in love with Bucky Barnes.
“Need me to fuck you, baby? Fuck, you drive me so fuckin’ crazy. I’m crazy about you, baby. You’re so goddamn perfect, so soft, so beautiful.” Bucky’s hands touch every part of you, even the places you hate. He finds the soft rolls of fat you try to work off at the gym, finds the squishy parts of your upper arms you think look unsightly when you’re hacking into HYDRA’s systems, fingers flying over the keyboard. He passes over your stubbly legs, a little sharp from three days of not shaving while on the mission, he caresses the dimples of cellulite in the backs of your thighs you hate so much.
And then he pushes the waistband of his sweats down and kicks his pants off, his cock exposed and standing attention all red at the tip and thick and hard and hot, and his hands slide underneath your thighs and press you up until you’re angled to take him.
He hesitates though, you feel it. And god, you’d do anything for him.
“Fuck me, sergeant,” you beg so prettily, and Bucky growls.
His hips snap into yours, cock sliding through your walls, parting you for him, splaying you open, stretching you, burning you, he’s everything. Bucky gives you one second to adjust and then he’s moving within you, the pain blurring into pleasure, your head thrown back, keening, moaning, crying out, nails sinking into his shoulders.
“Yes,” he hisses, sweat dripping down his temple as he rams into you over and over and over. “Give it to me, baby. You feel so good.”
“Harder,” you manage in between your shrieks and moans and Bucky answers your call with a response. He drags you toward him until your hips are attached to his, connected, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you, the darkest parts of you, and you sob as the new angle makes you feel every single drag of his length. The head of his cock pierces you, smashing against the spot that makes you keen, and the pressure is building up within you again.
Bucky’s fingers find purchase in the plush flesh that sits on your hips, dragging down until he’s digging into your thick thighs, the sharp pain a beacon cutting through the haze of pleasure you’re locked in as he fucks you. It’s building, building, building, pressure, building.
“Come for me,” he snarls, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, like he can feel how close you are. And for the second time, your body is shattered and your orgasm breaks like a wave crashing against the shore, swallowing you whole until you’re lost in everything that is Bucky.
You scream his name, legs tightening around him like you’re trying to hold onto something, anything, and his words are lost on you.
“That’s it, good girl, that’s my good girl, coming so sweet around my cock, god you feel so good baby, so tight, such a good little girl.”
Bucky pulls out of you and you whine as your slick slips out of you, his cock coated in your essence, smearing it against your inner thighs. But it doesn’t last that long. With an immediacy that turns you on—he wants you, he wants you so bad—Bucky grabs you and flips you over, putting you on your hands and knees. His palm forces your head down, back bowing until you’re arched with your ass upturned, face smashed into the pillows.
“God,” he groans, “this fuckin’ ass of yours, baby. It gets me in so much trouble, d’ya know that? You don’t even know how many times I’ve caught myself watching the way your ass swings when you walk, like y’gotta purpose, like you don’t even know how fuckin’ sexy you are.”
Bucky’s hands round over your ass, caressing them gently, then grabbing fistfuls of your flesh until you’re crying out once again. It makes you lean back into him, trying to seek out the pleasure of him, wiggling as if you can entice him to stuff you with his cock again.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathes, and then he gives your right cheek a slap that makes you shriek, laying a kiss on it just after to soothe the pain.
“Please sergeant,” you gasp. “Please, please, I need you to fuck me again.”
“You want me to fuck you again?” he asks, smug. “I just fucked you ‘till you came around me, baby. You need me to do it again?”
It’s humiliating, but your words are jumbled as you cry and beg and cry and beg for him to take you again. You need him. You need him to fuck you. You need Bucky Barnes to do anything and everything to you.
He leans over you, breath hot on the back of your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you now, baby, again and again and again.”
And then he slams back into you, the angle so much deeper this time, cock hitting the back of your cunt like he was made for you—like you were made for him.
You can’t speak, can’t think, can’t do anything but drool into the pillow as he takes you from behind like a wild animal. The sounds that pour from your open lips are heady and strung together, making no sense, but Bucky knows what you need. He fucks you raw, fucks you hard, fucks you until you know you’ll be covered in bruises in the morning. His metal arm is wrapped around your waist, holding you to him because you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up.
When his thrusts become sloppy, Bucky takes his vibranium hand and searches for your clit, making you cry out. It’s too much—the overstimulation. You’re too sensitive, too exhausted, too fucked out to take the pleasure anymore. But you clench around him, the sloppy sounds of your wet heat taking Bucky as he pounds into you making you flush, and the coil in your stomach is tightening.
“Give it to me,” Bucky commands, ramming into you impossibly harder, fingers sliding over your slick clit. “Give it to me, baby.”
You whine his name and Bucky’s free hand smacks your ass again, the sound of flesh on flesh mingling with the sound of him fucking you.
“You said you’d be good,” he grits through his teeth. “Are you a good girl?”
“Yes,” you pant.
“You’re a good girl?”
“You’re my good girl?”
“Yes, sergeant, yes!”
“Then give it to me. Come, baby, come for me, one more time.”
And like that, you come apart, knees collapsing beneath you. Bucky catches you in his arms, thrusting once, twice more, and then buries himself so far inside of you that you barely feel his hot seed spurt inside of you, coating your insides.
You fall to the bed and Bucky follows, pulling out of you and wrapping his arms around you, pressing your back to his chest in the very position that started this all. He peppers kisses over the expanse of your shoulders, behind your ear, and then turns you until he can connect his lips to yours. Bucky kisses you like he means it, like he wants it to last forever.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispers against your mouth, then he’s off the bed and headed for the bathroom. You lay there in bliss, staring up at the ceiling with lidded eyes, unable to think of anything but the pleasure and exhaustion that make up your body right now. When Bucky returns, he has a ratty washcloth in hand and he uses it to clean between your legs. It’s warm and he’s gentle, leaving you shivering when he’s finished.
When he climbs back in bed, he tucks a piece of your matted hair behind your ear, smiling at you.
“Such a good girl,” he says, one last time, and it makes you smile. “My good girl,” he murmurs as he kisses you again.
“Yours?” You look up at him, blinking innocently.
“Mine.” Bucky lays your head upon his bare chest. “All mine.”
You fall asleep before him to the sound of his breathing, sharing the same bed with your co-worker Bucky Barnes, who you really think you might be in love with, especially as he strokes your hair so softly until your eyes fall, heavy.
Summary: You get pruned and think you’ve died, but when you wake up you find President Loki staring down at you. You beg him to help you. So he makes a bargain with you. In return for safety, he wants your body.
Your eyes fluttered open, expecting to see some kind of bright light or angels, perhaps. Or maybe you’d gone to the depths of hell, so would see demons and fire everywhere. But you were surprised, and confused, when you opened them to see dark clouds above and a man with black hair and a weird horned crown popped into view, looming over you, with some others surrounding him.
‘Oh dear, is she dead?’ President Loki asked.
One of the others he was with nudged your shoulder with his foot. Making you groan as you blinked hard to focus.
‘Apparently not.’ Loki chuckled.
You rolled round and got up onto your hands and knees, looking up at the men surrounding you. There was then an almighty roar from not too far away. You looked over and saw the most terrifying monster in the clouds.
‘You’re not a Loki, are you?’ Loki asked you.
‘A what? Loki? What do you mean?’ You frowned.
Loki sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘Clearly not. Waste of our time.’
‘Do we kill her, sire?’ One of the men asked, making your eyes widen.
‘No, Alioth will get her soon enough.’ Loki sneered and turned around to leave with the others.
You quickly put two and two together that Alioth was the name of the terrifying cloud monster that was getting closer and closer.
‘WAIT!’ You scrambled towards Loki. ‘Please… Please, don’t leave me here.’ You begged.
He turned back to face you, raising an eyebrow. ‘Why should I help you? You’re not one of us, no one but Loki’s survive here.’
‘Please… I’ll do whatever you want, anything, just please don’t leave me here. I beg you.’ You cried and was literally begging at his feet. You looked up at him through teary eyes. ‘I’m scared, please.’
Loki tilted his head as he stared down at you. Then he tapped his lower lip in thought for a moment, before a wicked smirk spread across his lips. You noticed he was then actually looking at you rather thoroughly for the first time.
‘I suppose, having a woman around could be rather useful.’ He hummed. ‘It has been so long since I’ve felt the soft lips of another…’ He reached down and brushed his thumb against your lower lip, making your lip quiver at his meaning.
Though the thought of doing sexual favours in return for safety didn’t exactly sound like a bad idea in this situation. Besides, he was rather good looking. And considering you’d thought you had died, the chance at survival was too great to pass up.
‘Please.’ You whispered again, pleading him with your eyes.
You knew he was dangerous, it was obvious. The fact that he and the others with him were even alive in this place. Even at first glance you knew it wasn’t a safe place to be.
He stood up straight and slid his hands into his pockets again. Then he nodded once. ‘Come with me.’
You scrambled up to your feet and followed as he started heading off quickly, it was hard keeping up with his large strides, but you managed. The others were staring at you weirdly, not sure whether to trust you or not. Since they didn’t trust anyone, really.
The monster was getting closer, making you shake more and more in fear. But Loki was completely calm as he led the way. Then eventually, after what felt like hours but was actually just a few minutes, you came to a large circular hatch in the ground.
Some of the others opened it up and started climbing down. Loki looked at you and motioned to the ladder. But you were frozen, the thought of going down there and being trapped god knows where…
‘Suit yourself. You can come down and take your chance with me, or you can stay out here all alone with the monster. But no one apart from Loki’s ever survive here alone.’ He said darkly, smirking a little.
He went towards the ladder, but you quickly moved forward after hearing another roar from the monster. ‘I’ll come down.’ You blurted out quickly.
Loki grinned and motioned for you to go first as he took a small step back. You hesitantly began to climb down the ladder and Loki followed. When you reached the bottom, you turned around and were faced with even more people that you assumed were other Loki’s. They all had various weapons aimed at you, making your eyes widen.
‘Hey, hey, hey! Back off, she’s no threat. She’s mine.’ Loki growled at them all roughly when he got down the ladder behind you.
They instantly backed down, obeying their King.
Loki gripped your upper arm firmly and led you through the other Loki’s, he started spouting some green energy from his hand when one of them tried to get over to you. You gulped hard, just what exactly had you gotten yourself into?
He took you through to what you assumed was his private bedroom. It was just as weird and dark as the other room. But this one at least had a bed.
Using some magic, Loki locked the door without a key.
‘Well now.’ He said as he shrugged off his black jacket, leaving the rest of his clothes on. But he started rolling his sleeves up his forearms. You weren’t sure why, but you felt the green waistcoat and tie really suited him, like it was his colour.
‘Are you going to hold up your end of the bargain?’ He growled low, licking his lips.
You felt your own mouth go dry as you looked down and saw a bulge in his trousers. Not knowing for sure what he might be capable of, and holding up your end of the bargain, you walked over to him and sank down to your knees.
A smirk tugged on his lips as he gazed down at you. You were so nervous as you reached up and slowly started palming at him through his trousers. God, he felt so big. You were kind of scared to see for sure.
‘Come on, pet. Don’t keep me waiting, it’s not too late for me to chuck you back outside to the monster.’ He said in warning as he narrowed his eyes at you.
With a gulp, you began to free his cock. And when you did, it didn’t ease your nerves at all. You felt his piercing gaze upon you as you tentatively started stroking him, slowly becoming bolder and bolder as you got used to his rather intimidating size.
‘Don’t be scared. This beast doesn’t bite much, unlike the one outside.’ He chuckled.
You licked your lips and then looking up at him, you leaned forward and took him into your mouth. His eyes fluttered and his mouth parted in a throaty groan when he felt your warm mouth engulf him.
‘That’s it, good girl.’ He growled and reached down to slide his long fingers through your hair.
You felt a delightful shiver run down your spine at his praise for some reason. You hollowed your cheeks and tried to suck him down as far as you could, pleasing him that you were trying. But what you couldn’t take down your throat you made up for with your tongue work.
His hand in your hair suddenly tightened, and to your shock he started fucking your mouth roughly. Giving you no option but to take him down your throat, making you choke on him. You put your hands on his lean thighs for support and was pleasantly surprised with how muscular they felt beneath the fabric. But you didn’t get long to think on it as your throat started to hurt.
‘Your mouth is simply wonderful. Oh, yes. I think this was a very good bargain indeed.’ He snarled.
When he was close to cumming, he eased up and just rested on your tongue. You didn’t want to disappoint him, to have him toss you out. So you moaned around him, causing vibrations to dance all over his cock. And you moved your tongue along the underside of him, doing everything just right. So when he came, he came hard, shooting down your throat. You did your best to swallow all of his cum, some dribbled down your chin but that only made him lust after you even more.
After his loud moaning and grunting, he took a few deep breaths to compose himself. But his eyes were still full of dark lust as he pulled out of your mouth.
‘Get on your hands and knees.’ He demanded gruffly, his cock bobbing, still aroused.
You were slightly startled when he waved his hand and suddenly you were completely naked. But you didn’t get time to dwell on it, because he moved behind you as you did as you were told and got into position, you gasped when you felt his fingers sliding against your cunt. ‘Ohhh, pet.’ He cooed and rubbed over your clit, making your body jump. ‘It seems this bargain is not only satisfying for me, but it seems it is for you too.’
You hung your head down in shame at how wet you were just from sucking him off. But Loki’s firm grip in your hair suddenly tugged your head right back, making you gasp.
‘No, no. Do not hang your head in shame. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying sucking your King off.’ He growled seductively into your ear, then licked up the side of your neck, making you whimper.
He let go of your hair and instead wrapped his hand around the front of your neck as he lined up with your sopping wet cunt. In one smooth thrust, he was inside of you, filling you up completely. His hand around your neck controlled your breathing, only letting you do so when he deemed fit.
You had never been so aroused in your life. It was evident with the obscene noises coming from between you both as Loki pounded into you.
Your own orgasm hit you like a train crash, you’d never felt anything so animalistic and purely chaotic in your life. It felt so rushed and needy, but it was the most mind-blowing orgasm you’d ever had. Not long ago you thought you had died, and now you felt like you were dying all over again but this time in over pleasure. With Loki laughing wickedly over you from behind as he spilled into you from his own orgasm.
He collapsed on top of you, knocking you down to the cold hard ground on your stomach. But you didn’t care much, feeling his heavy weight on top of you didn’t bother you either.
‘Mmm… This is a good deal indeed.’ He murmured as he nuzzled his nose into your hair. ‘I give you my word, that I will keep you alive and safe, pet. If you keep your body available to me, always. Can you do that?’
Your mind was so fuzzy, you could barely even think straight. But you nodded and managed to squeak out your answer. ‘Yes… My King.’
alpha! aone + mentions of heats / ruts + creampie + a.b.o dynamics + knotting + mild dubcon + mentions of guilt + excessive licking + manhandling + overstimulation + lots of cum + squirting + f! reader
— word count; approx 2.5k
with coming spring, he knows to be careful, more so than he already is- aone feels like he’s walking over thin ice.
he cant recall the last time he’s had to be mindful of ruts and cycling heats- but its different now, now he has you and he knows that things like this can go wrong so very fast. nonetheless, he’s come to you with a bag of fresh fruit and vegetables, hand already raised to knock at your door-
its not instant, the smell of something so mouthwatering that his knees feel weak slowly filling every space inside his mind. he can’t help but to bring an already clammy hand to cover his nose, but it’s already imprinted deep in his very being.
aone cant see you, but he can taste you.
theres a swirling heated battle rattling around in his mind. he knows you’re in your room, knows you’re bundled up in the safety of what he hopes is a comfortable nest, knows you’re in agony- begging for an alpha- begging for him to go and breed you.
its that singular thought that has him open your door, and it feels like it happens all over again, the searing heat and mouth watering with saliva, already panting with each heavy step taken towards your room.
his ears picking up the sounds of ruffling, can hear you turn around in bed, unable to get up thanks to the hurt your body is going through.
he can help you, he can… he’s going to help you.
the thumping sounds of his feet padding towards your room is enough to send you into a frenzy, nose buried into a fuzzy blanket- peaking up, you can only whine the second he’s standing outside the door.
“a-aone?” you cry, knowing you’d sent him a message denoting the early heat you’ve been forced to undergo- its what happens when you’re in the presence of such strong, fertile alphas... like him, like your new, sweet, giant, gentle boyfriend.
theres guilt settling deep, unable to really comprehend anything outside of small flashes of coherency, trying to make sense as to why hes outside your bedroom door, as to why hes slowly turning the doorknob, and as to why hes dropped a bag of groceries at his feet.
deep voice sending full body shivers straight from your neck, down the length of your back.
its not his fault and you know it- just how you cant stop the searing, harsh throbbing of your pussy, already wetting down the middle of your shorts, now feeling like your clothes prickle at overly heated skin.
hands immediately tear the soft blanket from you, bunching it to a ring of pillows and other clothing, his clothing.
he nearly collapses, heart thrumming hard in his chest at the sight, you two are so new to this relationship that he hasn’t even seen the skin you’ve suddenly presented him with.
“i’m sorry.” He says it with a broken lilt, stepping past the soft pillows you’ve kicked around.
it has you nearly thrashing around, legs already glistening with sweat- mouth hung open to hurriedly take in mouthfuls of his own scent. its mouthwatering, sharp and something that resembles mint and oak- it belongs to him, and only him and you cant and help but to whine.
a knee breaches past the safety of your nest and youre suddenly up- heated hands grabbing at the clothes hes wearing, a frenzy of soft and clammy touches along the cotton.
aone thinks he might die- just barely able to suppress any instinctual snapping, tampering down the need to shove your head into the soft bedding, wanting to shove his cock into your surely leaking cunt. he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing, all guided by instinct and the nagging voice telling him to split you apart.
he wants you to lay back and let him take care of you, but there’s that gnawing guilt- and in a moment of clarity aone does something that shouldn’t have been possible in his headspace.
he steps back.
prying your hands off his body to put distance, any type of distance in between two heated bodies.
“its wrong.” Its all he says, still trying to simmer down the near overwhelming need to have you.
theres no words to truly describe the feeling at seeing you nearly cry at the rejection- his eyes closing, blunt nails digging into the fat of his palm before trying to step back.
“n-no!” its whiney- pitchy and warbled, shaky hands thumping against the bed- thighs squishing together, seeping arousal already started to coat the inside of them, it’s horrible and you want the pain settled deep in your belly to leave.
“want you- nobu, I want you.” you heave, bottom lip starting to shake, your eyes glance down to his crotch- and you can see the bump of arousal heavy in his pants.
its a desperate plan to get him to mount you like you need, but deep down you know how sweet he is- you know that hes wanted to make this special for the both of you, but once again the searing and pangs of heat don’t let you think straight.
a single glance to his now opened eyes is all you give him before turning around onto your knees, promptly shoving the slickened, sticky material of it down your legs- slumping forward to rest your cheek onto the mattress.
its loud- loud and rattling around in his head, watching as you bend yourself over for him, a position he knows is ideal for taking you how he knows you need.
the drooling heat of your pussy finally presented is what eats away at the last bit of humanity he clutched in wide palms.
once more, aone brings himself to the edge of your bed- gripping at the skin of your hips, pressing that clutch of heat to his cock.
the word completely encompasses every feeling, every thought coursing through his dizzying head.
legs tremble under the feeling of his hands, of his cock pressing near perfectly against your pussy, grabbing at the sheets to distract from the throbbing.
“i know- i know.”
sharp sobs finally tumble forth, and he cant take it anymore.
you’re not too sure how he gets his cock out- maybe it has something to do with the tear and pop of the button from his jeans, but what you do know is that his swollen and throbbing cockhead is swiping up and down your messy folds.
all the sad, pitiful crying and noises sucked back into your chest immediately, tasting the heady scent of his own precum mixing in with your arousal.
aone brings a shaky palm to hold you down, long and thick fingers wrapping around the back of your neck, meat of his hand settled at the nape- instinctually pinning you with strength hes never used against anyone.
he needs to, because in one swift shove- aone sinks the reddened tip inside, splitting you open, momentum carrying his hips closer and closer to your ass.
gurgling out a mixture of his name and a shy thank you, while the burn from taking him in knocks any wind from your chest, legs nearly already giving way-
there’s a palpable restrain he’s undergoing, crushing, already crushing while he’s pushed your chest down flat- it feels like a sunburn painting every inch of skin, and aone cant take the burn anymore.
tilting his head back, hard eyes staring at the ceiling while your cunt pulses around his cock he speaks, grumbles out an, “i’m sorry.”
all before snapping muscled thighs to the fat of your ass- swollen balls pressed so close to you, it hits your throbbing clit- sending an involuntary twitch up your back, cunt fluttering hard, not helping the heat he feels.
aone wants to spit out every apology he knows while he drills into your cunt, but its too much. turned head letting him see your sweat lined hairline, lips parted while pretty screams leave them, drool already forming under a slowly curved up smile.
this is what you need. barely holding onto consciousness while hammering hips smash you down.
knees fully giving away, nothing in your body could have ever kept up with his large body swinging into you- all with an intent to breed, all with an intent to fulfill a screeching need imbedded deep within.
hands burn with the way you’ve clutched the bed, hips, along with every part of your body submitting easily, slumped near lifelessly, a violent display of power you’ve never seen aone use.
you’re slipping, every thrust bringing your body up and up and in the state of mind he’s undergone, it’s the worst thing imaginable.
letting up, thick, long cock still buried deep within gummy walls- he grabs your hips, picks you up off the bed, sensitive to the cry of pure displeasure that leaves your mouth, all with the way hes stopped moving.
“its okay- be still.” aone grumbles, and you do just that.
once more the sheer need to be good for him, to make yourself perfect and receptive for his cum forces your body to lay there, knees no longer pressed onto the bed, no longer pressed to anything while his palms keep you up.
muscles tensed- biceps curling with each drag of you back onto him, finally fulfilling that deep seated need that you’ve brought to him.
a blooming red heat curls up from his neck, dusted across his cheeks and nose- he thinks you look pretty, so perfect for him. the sudden urge to bite you- to tie you down to him is near overwhelming.
just barely blinking back that base need, all aone knows now is that he needs to fill you up.
focusing instead on your scent, the sweat rolling down every curve of your body, using you to slide down over his cock, creamy and wet with all the arousal your fluttering cunt produces in order to take him, absolutely no resistance in the tight heat of yours.
resounding, wet smacks of meeting hips have him dizzy, he’s ignorant to the fluttering, squeezing tight vice of your cunt every time you cum.
all aone knows is that it feels like your pussy is trying to keep his cock out- screams and warbling chants of his name increased the longer this goes on.
this yell of his name comes out clearer than the others, full of much more desperation- white lashes flutter down to look at his cock stuffed inside when he feels a wet splatter hit his tummy, dripping down his balls and thighs. it takes him a second to think very dumbly that it’s all to help you take it- but the trembling, kicking limbs under him quickly disprove that.
with a loud groan, loudest you’ve heard him- he folds himself down, teeth throbbing with the overwhelming want to stake claim, but he just drools. the shirt still draped over him quickly dampening with the sweat slicked on your body, finally close enough to really taste everything that makes you- you.
he doesnt know why he does what he does, only that the need to have you closer- wanting to lessen the throbbing in his mouth, still rutting into your fucked out cunt, creamed around the base of his slowly thickening length, he laves his tongue up your neck.
stiffening under his hold, it’s the only thing you can do, unable to bring any part of your body to shy away, heavy chills wracking through sore muscles, involuntary clenches from your cunt nearly bring aone down.
his cock feels heavy and full, only animalistic drive brings him to press his dick inside- feeling the swell even more now, near suffocating while you squeeze in protest, chest heaving at the thickening.
your soft cries- warbling lilt of near mind searing pain has him try to comfort you in the best way he knows. still leaving trails of warm spit up your neck, grunting out harshly, nose dipping lower down your back, hand grabbing at your already limp arm and pulling it up, nose seeking parts of you that are dripping with sweat, he licks and licks.
does it to distract you to from the pain, to soothe you with heavy tonguing while his body near spasms, cock fully swollen at the base to keep you locked against him.
it hurts, but the feeling of his cum filling every swollen ridge inside finally has every burning thought settle down.
still fuzzy around the edges you simply blink- inhaling while he keeps dragging his thick tongue up your underarm, head nestled beneath it, sending waves of ticklish shivers down you.
it comes out in a near breathless whine, no more is it muddled by any lingering want- tired from cumming so much, pussy stuffed full. it’s exactly what was needed, and by the sound of his soft grunting, still twitching cock dumping spurt after spurt, you knew he needed it too.
“mm.” he’s still tending to you, not satisfied until his cock begins to finally soften, any give of your battered walls brings forth a gush of cum.
its seeping from in between your overly stretched lips, a wiggle of hips finally snaps him out- prying himself from your body, proud of himself for keeping calm and not claiming you, not yet anyways.
“are you okay? feels good?”
he doesn’t know exactly what to say, settling on keeping any worry and anxiety down, you don’t need that right now- you need someone strong and he can do that, be that- but only for you.
finally stretching himself, he lets your body settle back down onto your bed, nest ruined from your thrashing arms- whining with the obscene amount of globs dropping down onto the bed as his cock slips out.
“its good, so good.”
still dizzy from it all, you can only wait while he slots his heavy body within your limp arms- whole body burning up, matching the temperature of your own.
hands so small against him paint soothing pictures, hearts and the initials of your name, goosebumps can only follow in their wake, this is the bliss that can only be described as easy. its easy to hold him, easy to touch and ease the worry, tummy warmed and full of his heavy cum, thanking in a small voice by his ear.
his heart pounds, still roaring, cumming like this- tending to your body was what he was made to do, no matter what shifted in the dynamics of your relationship, he just hopes he’s the one to hold you in the end.
Relationship: Yelena Belova x Reader
Warnings: angst, attitude, possible vague Black Widow spoilers
Summary: Your and Yelena's date night takes an unexpected turn when a surprise guest shows up at your shared apartment.
A/N: So. I saw Black Widow on thursday....i loved SO much.......maybe even found a new comfort character..........and now here we are :) please enjoy
You were just finishing up dinner when two arms snaked around your waist. You giggled, staring down at the sautéed vegetables, as you leaned into your girlfriend’s touch.
"Smells good," she mumbled against your neck. Light kisses were beginning to litter your skin.
You sighed. "Thank you, love," you said, giving everything a final stir before turning off the burners. You went to start carrying items to the table, thinking your girlfriend would let up on her hold on you, but that ended up not being the case.
With a joyous laugh, you playfully scolded her, "Yelena, please," you smiled. "Do you want to eat or not?"
She hummed. Her hands drifted now to your sides and began creeping their way to your hips and thighs. "Depends on what you had in mind."
You let out a faux surprised gasp. "You’re shameless." You shook your head and peeled her hands away from you. She let out a little defeated sigh but you just shot her a playful look and continued with your initial mission of setting the dining table.
Thankfully, this time, Yelena lent a helping hand as opposed to lending her hands…elsewhere. The latter was a common occurrence, especially before date night dinners, such as ones like these. There had been one too many meals you were forced to reheat everything after you let Yelena get carried away.
After the food was placed — a nice spread of local meats, fresh produce, and bakery bread — you began working on getting plates and cutlery. Yelena had taken it upon herself to start breaking out the wine. She brought out two bottles you had just bought that morning based on the recommendation from the butcher. You maybe took cooking and dinners a bit too seriously, hoping everything was right especially when it was for your love.
You set out the cutlery just as Yelena finished pouring two (hefty) glasses of wine. You shot her a smile in thanks and began filling each of your plates. You did have to pat yourself on the back a bit, everything smelled wonderful.
Once you two had full plates and eager stomachs, you sat down and dug in. Yelena immediately let out an exaggerated moan as she practically devoured the meat. You blushed at her enthusiasm.
"This is wonderful, dear," Yelena praised and took a sip of her wine. "Very reminiscent of my momma’s cooking."
Your ears perked up at your girlfriend’s mention of her family. She did that every now and then, slip in random comments about them. You liked trying to explore it but knew the topic was a delicate one. You trod carefully.
"Yeah?" You asked, moving some vegetables around on your plate. "Did she cook a lot?"
Yelena shrugged. "We’d have dinners together, all of us, pretty much every night."
All of us. You had heard so far of a mother and a father but could there be more? Or were you reading too much into it?
Eventually, you settled on, "Family dinners sound very nice." That was enough, you thought. Just safe but still engaged. You eyed Yelena as she continued to eat. She hadn’t noticed you stalled or, well, she probably did, but wasn’t saying anything. You took large gulps of your wine, impulsively.
Just as your liquid courage was getting to you to maybe inquire further about your lover’s family, a hard knock at the front door disrupted the entire dinner. Both of your movements stopped abruptly. You looked between the door and your girlfriend.
"Were you expecting someone?" You asked.
Yelena shook her head. Her fork dropped with a loud clang as she pushed away from the table. In quick, determined strides she collected the gun kept in the side table in the living room. You watched her, quite stunned by her response. You don’t think you ever actually saw any of her guns come into action. When you first moved in, she just explained they were a precaution. You never asked what kind of precaution. You feared you were getting your answer now as Yelena walked to the entryway.
Gun drawn, pointed dead on with the wooden door, she called out, "Who is it?"
"You can put the gun down." Surprisingly, that was a female voice answering your girlfriend’s demand. Your brows furrowed in curiosity. You watched for Yelena’s reaction but she was still so stoic and intense.
Yelena scoffed. "Are you sure?"
Probably a bit foolishly, you decided to chime in. "Love," you said, "is everything okay?"
The female on the other side of the door spoke again, this time with an element of shock in her voice. "Love?"
Yelena let out a dramatic sigh as she relaxed her stance and surrendered her gun, placing it on the little table in the foyer. What seemed to be a bit reluctantly, Yelena opened the door forcefully.
Despite the mystery woman finally being revealed, it answered approximately zero of your questions. There, in the doorway, stood a redhead whose unamusing expression mixed with a slight smugness matched your girlfriend’s. The two just stared at one another, neither dared to move, as if they were challenging one another to try it.
Curiosity finally getting the best of you, you stood from the dining table and slowly made your way to the front door. Your fingers fumbled in nervousness as you stepped with caution.
"Hi, there," you said with a weak smile and gentle wave. The redhead’s eyes flicked over to you only briefly. Still, you continued, "Are you alright? Do you need something?"
"Oh, do I."
Yelena shook her head. "The only thing she needs is to leave."
You turned to your girlfriend, "Who is she?"
"Natasha," the redhead explained. "Me and your love here," she nodded towards Yelena, "we go way back."
You didn’t know how she had the air in her but Yelena let out another ridiculous sigh and stomped away. Like some defeated child, she took her seat once more at the dining table. You had never seen her like this before, so unattached and dismissive. You wracked your brain on how to mend this.
You turned back to Natasha. "Please, come in." Natasha took the offer quite well and gave you a nod of thanks before entering the apartment. You followed her into the dining room.
"We were just starting dinner," you explained as you raced for the kitchen, grabbing Natasha her own set. "Sit, have some food."
Natasha mumbled a "thanks" as you began filling her plate now with food. You even offered up some wine despite Yelena’s weird look she shot you when you reached for it. You ignored her odd behavior and took your seat once more. Somehow, the tension from the situation just got worse. Neither woman was eating now.
You cleared your throat as you prepared to dig into your meal once more. "I hope it’s still warm. If not, I can pop everything in the oven to warm."
No one said anything.
"Alright then…" You shrugged. "If I may, how exactly do you two know each other?"
That was the question that opened the flood gates. Yelena turned to you abruptly. "She’s my sister."
"Sort of," the redhead quickly retorted.
Your jaw went slack. Your appetite completely abandoned you now as your interest was greatly piqued. "Your sister?" You asked and looked between the two women. Well, they didn’t really look alike…
"Not biologically," Yelena explained. "We just kind of…lived together for a while."
"I see," you nodded. You scraped your fork against your plate, awkwardly. "If I may again, what brings you here, Natasha?"
The question certainly made Yelena perk up as she stared down her sister — or, whatever they considered each other. You resisted the urge to grab her hand under the table, unsure of what level of affection she was comfortable showing in front of this woman.
"Some business to attend to." Short and sweet. You felt these two were definitely related on some level.
"This couldn’t have waited until the morning?" Yelena gritted.
Natasha shrugged. "I guess it could’ve but then, apparently, I would’ve missed out on this lovely dinner with you and your… your, what? Girlfriend?" She took a bite of food. "Hmm, tastes close to someone else’s cooking." A shrug. "Anyways, I didn’t know you dated."
"You don’t know a lot of things."
"Okay!" You explained, trying to salvage whatever was left of this civilized conversation. Natasha and Yelena shared a look before turning to your flustered state. "We’re very happy you dropped in, right, love?" You glanced at Yelena. "And you’re more than welcome to stay, Natasha. I’m afraid all we have to offer is the couch if that would be okay."
Natasha glanced behind you at the living room before nodding. "That would be great," she smiled.
It wasn’t until you were standing at the kitchen sink cleaning the dishes from dinner that Yelena approached you to talk. Natasha was off getting ready for bed and your girlfriend hopped on this opportunity.
"I’m so sorry," she said as she stood beside you, taking on the role of the dryer in your little dishwasher assembly line. "I-I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sorry she dropped by, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her—,"
"Love," you shook your head, giving her a sympathetic look, "it’s okay. I’m not really mad you didn’t tell me or that she’s here. From what I gather, it’s a complicated relationship."
Yelena let out an annoyed huff. "You have no idea." A beat. "But, still. I shouldn’t hide these things from you. She was a big part of my life and now you… you’re a big part of my life. It’s only fair."
Your heart warmed at her admission. She could be quite the affectionate one when she wanted to be. Quickly, you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She tried hiding her blush but failed beautifully.
"For what it’s worth, she seems very interesting," you shrugged. "I think she could be fun to get to know. Probably has a few embarrassing stories about you as a child."
Yelena gasped. "Don’t even think about it."
"Too late," you giggled, mentally marking that down as a subject for conversation. A brief silence passed over you two as you finished up with the dishes. Reaching the end of the chore, you said, "So, should I be on the lookout for any other siblings?"
Your girlfriend chuckled. "No," she admitted. "Natasha is it."
You let out a content hum in understanding. "One day we should have them all over."
"Yeah," you nodded, "your whole family. A nice, big family dinner. That could be exciting, right?"
Yelena rolled her eyes. Whether it was playful or not, you couldn’t quite tell. "That’s certainly one way to describe it."