Can I request Steve being jealous of loki charming his girl?
Title: “Know Who You Belong To”
Steve Rogers x Reader | Loki (teasing antagonist) | Possessive, jealous Steve | Darker, sensual tone | Public to private setting
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The gala was all sparkle and glass—stunning chandeliers, soft jazz, and far too many people pretending they weren’t watching the Avengers. You stood beside Steve, his hand warm on your lower back, when Loki appeared.
“Darling,” Loki purred, appearing from nowhere and bowing just a bit too low to kiss your hand. “How radiant you look tonight. Are you sure you’re with the right captain?”
Your laugh was polite, uncertain, but your eyes flicked to Steve, whose jaw clenched beneath a polite smile.
“Loki,” you said softly. “You’re being bold.”
“Only bold enough to speak what others are thinking,” Loki said smoothly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, the pad of his finger grazing your skin deliberately. “Beauty like yours shouldn’t be hidden behind a shield.”
Steve didn’t move, but you felt the grip on your waist tighten. His voice was like gravel when he finally spoke. “That’s enough.”
Loki smiled, feline and smug. “Oh, come now, Rogers. I’m merely appreciating what you clearly take for granted.”
You didn’t need super soldier senses to feel the tension radiating off your Captain. His arm slid fully around your waist, possessive, immovable. “She’s not on display,” he said, eyes hard. “And she’s not interested.”
Loki’s smirk didn’t falter. He leaned in just enough for only Steve to hear. “Then maybe show her who she belongs to, Captain.”
Then he was gone.
—
The ride home was silent.
Steve’s hand rested on your thigh, thumb stroking gently, but the air between you crackled like a storm. The second the door shut behind you both, he spun you to face him.
“You let him touch you.” His voice was low, barely controlled.
“I didn’t—”
“You laughed.” He took a step forward. “He touched what’s mine and you let him.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but your breath hitched as Steve backed you into the wall, his hands braced beside your head.
“You liked it when he called you darling?” he asked, voice dark and razor-sharp. “When he put his hands on you in front of me like he could take you?”
“No, Steve—”
“Captain.” His hand closed gently around your throat, not choking—just reminding. “You call me Captain.”
“Yes, Captain,” you breathed, pupils dilated, body reacting faster than your words.
He leaned in, lips ghosting over your jaw, your ear. “Let me remind you who you belong to. Right here. Right now.”
Hey Guys! It has been a while since I have posted on here but I got inspired. So here’s a romantic story Steve Rogers falling in love with you — Let me know what you think of our soft boy
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“A Soft Place to Land”
It started with coffee.
You hadn’t meant to serve Captain America a lukewarm latte, but your tiny café in Brooklyn had been slammed that morning, and you were on hour five with no break. You barely glanced up as you set the cup down.
“That’s on the house,” you muttered, wiping your hands on your apron.
“I didn’t order a free drink,” a warm voice said.
You looked up, and there he was. Steve Rogers. Clear blue eyes, golden hair, quiet strength etched into every inch of him. You froze, torn between awe and sheer embarrassment.
“I—sorry, I just—you’re not a regular,” you stammered.
“No,” he said, with a crooked smile. “But maybe I will be.”
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He came back the next day. And the day after that.
Steve wasn’t what you expected. He asked about your day, listened like it mattered. He smiled when you made bad puns, offered to carry crates in the back when the delivery truck came late. He never made a show of who he was—he just was. Steady. Kind. A little old-fashioned in a way that made your chest flutter.
You started keeping a seat open for him. He started sketching you when he thought you weren’t looking. You pretended not to notice.
⸻
One rainy Thursday, the power cut out. The shop emptied fast, but Steve stayed.
You were lighting candles when you heard him say, softly, “You always take care of everyone else. Who takes care of you?”
You froze with the match in your hand.
“I manage,” you said, laughing, too lightly.
But then he crossed the room, took the match from your fingers, and lit it for you. In the soft flicker of light, he looked at you like you were the most important mission he’d ever been given.
“I’d like to,” he said. “If you’d let me.”
You swallowed hard. “You already do.”
⸻
It wasn’t dramatic. There was no grand confession on a battlefield, no sweeping kiss in the rain. It was soft, steady, like him. Like Sunday mornings and shared silence. Like two people who had known too much of loss and decided, quietly, to hold onto something good.
One night, long after the café had closed, he kissed you behind the counter, hands gentle on your face like he was afraid you might vanish. You didn’t.
Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky looks good in a suit, and it isn't fair how easily he turns you on.
Word Count: Over 2k
Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), referenced oral sex (f. receiving), feels, sweet and spicy fic, established relationship, vulnerability, being in love, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: More Tower Shenanigans based on an anon ask. ❤️ Thank you to the lovely @buckybarnesfic, @soelstress, @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for looking it over and assuring me it wasn't garbage. Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky was still getting ready for the day while you made him breakfast. It was the most important meal of the day, and neither of you would let the other skip it. Thankfully the rest of the team had already eaten and were elsewhere, otherwise everyone would try to steal something; except for Bob because he wouldn't take food without asking. Not to mention the last time John tried to steal one of Yelena’s meals he almost lost a finger.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee cut through the last traces of sleep, warming you up as you loaded the plates with various foods and set them on the island. You rinsed the dishes and cleaned the counters while you waited for Bucky, doing a silly little dance in-between tasks. It wasn't your day to tidy up the kitchen, but you weren't going to be a jerk and leave it a mess.
“Someone’s happy this morning,” Ava said from behind you, and you somehow didn't jump at the sound. You were all getting used to her phasing in and out of the rooms. “Let me guess. Morning sex?”
Was it obvious since you were only in your robe and underwear? “Maybe,” you teased.
The wonderful ache between your legs was a nice reminder of how Bucky woke you earlier, making you shiver. You felt his fingers and tongue working you over before you opened your eyes, and you barely recovered from your first orgasm before he had his cock in you. It wasn't rushed either. He took his time, making you feel every delicious inch as he thrust slow and deep. Even when you came again he didn't stop.
“‘Attagirl,” he smiled against your lips while you trembled beneath him, his body effectively caging you in. “But you can give me one more. I know you can.”
“Bucky,” you whined, wanting nothing more than for him to fill you to the brim.
“Just one more, sweetheart.” A hand moved between your bodies so he could play you like a well tuned instrument. “One more and I’ll give it to you.”
You did, and so did he, your name tumbling from his lips as he spilled into you. Who wouldn't give Bucky another orgasm if he gently demanded it? Three orgasms wasn't a bad way to start the day. A girl could do much worse.
“Lucky,” she smirked, snapping you out of your thoughts when she snatched a bite of food from Bucky’s plate. “Mmm. Remind me to have you make me breakfast the next time you have morning sex.”
“Hey!” you yelled, but there was laughter in your eyes when she took another bite and phased away. “You’ll pay for that!”
“Who will pay for what?” Bucky asked when he walked into the room, making your breath catch in your throat.
Bucky's hair was tucked behind his ears today, bringing your attention to his steel eyes before you took in the rest of him. His suit was tailored impeccably to his large frame, and he wore it well. He carried himself with composed ease, his steps deliberate and head held high. His presence demanded attention without appearing arrogant, which was tough to balance. He was all man.
He was your man.
“Fuck me,” you breathed.
Bucky may not be a Congressman anymore, but he would have had your vote for anything and everything he ever wanted.
His eyes flashed with unmistakable lust and pride as he walked toward you, making your stomach flip. “Already did.”
“You did, and you can do that again later,” you said, reaching up to trace his mouth.
You smiled when he kissed your fingers. It was an honor to touch him and that wasn't at all an exaggeration. You noticed how tense he got when some got too close to him, but not you. Never you.
“So, I look handsome?” he asked casually, adjusting his tie. “Not that I’m trying to look handsome. I’m only wearing this since I have a meeting, and I might get a few dirty looks if I show up in tactical gear.”
You almost teased that he was fishing for a compliment, but you saw just a flicker of his confidence waver as he waited for your answer. “Suit or tactical gear, you’re the most handsome man I've ever seen.”
He breathed out, his confidence back in full force. “I’m glad to hear that.” Sliding a hand over the curve of your hip, his fingers dug in, a protective and possessive touch, when he brought his mouth to your ear. “And I may have to wear suits around you more often since it turns you on so much.”
You tried to play coy, as if your nipples hadn’t peaked and your clit didn't throb. “Who said I'm turned on?”
Bucky chuckled and lowered his head, his teeth nipping your neck and drawing a whimper from you. His lips moved up to find your ear again while you tried to keep your breathing steady. “Don't have to say it, sweetheart. I can smell you,” he whispered. You couldn't hide anything with those heightened senses of his, a blessing or a curse depending on how you looked at it. “Ruined your panties the second I walked in here.”
Your eyes closed. He was right, the smug bastard. Damn him. Damn him to Hell. No, not there. That was too cruel. Your bed would do nicely.
It was insane the more you thought about it. The man could breathe and it would send your libido into overdrive. Feminism? Where did it go? One murder strut or grumpy stare and it went out the window along with your panties. One smile and it melted your insides.
What had he done to you?
“You're unbelievable,” you sighed.
He pulled back, searching your face. “What do you mean?”
“I was a strong and capable woman before I came here,” you said, the words sounding ridiculous as soon as they left your mouth.
“And you still are,” he assured you. Bucky was one of your biggest supporters, always.
“It’s just… Do you have any idea what that’s like? To just look at someone and get turned on?” You stepped out of reach and gestured to him. You asked yourself some days how Bucky Barnes could possibly be real. How did someone like him exist? “You breathe and I get aroused. That isn't normal.”
No other man had that kind of power over you, body or heart, until him.
The warm chuckle from your boyfriend had you fighting not to smile. “One, we’re not normal. Two, your breathing turns me on, too. And three, I do know it’s like to just look at someone and get aroused because that happens when I look at you,” he said, taking your hand to bring you back to him. He placed it against his crotch and grew harder under your touch. “We’re a match made in heaven, Hell, whatever you want to call it.”
Blood rushed to your cheeks. You two were a good match. “It isn't just arousal when I look at you. It’s…” You took a breath and gripped his jacket with your other hand, trying to be careful not to wrinkle it. “You smile at me and…”
“And what?” he asked, catching your eye and softly smiling.
You swallowed, your eyes suddenly misting over before you dropped your hands. It was alarming how quickly your emotions took over in regard to Bucky. “I see a future with you there.”
Bucky cupped your cheeks when you tried to duck your head. He had stripped you bare more than once, but saying something like that made you feel more vulnerable than when you were naked. “Oh, sweetheart.”
“You have the power to break me,” you whispered, your eyes shutting. Not to hide, but to keep the tears at bay. “Which should be terrifying, but it’s very exhilarating.”
To give that much of yourself to another, to trust them to that extent, wasn't easy. But if life taught you anything, it was that it was too short and you had to seize every opportunity to live it to the fullest. Who better to do that with than Bucky Barnes?
You cleared your throat when he didn't say anything, his eyes a storm of emotions when you opened yours. “Your breakfast is getting cold. You should-”
He surged forward, his lips covering yours. The pad of his thumbs brushed your cheeks when he deepened the kiss, coaxing you to open your mouth to his. Emotions surged through you, your heart nearly overflowing as you held onto each other. You felt everything all at once and let yourself be swept away.
He slowly broke the kiss allowing you both to savor the lingering touch of each other's lips and take a much needed breath. “You could break me, too, but you won't,” he said, his forehead resting against yours as you attempted to calm your racing heart. “Just like I'd never break you.”
It was a vow that resonated in your core, a declaration of love, one that had you kissing him again and silently promising the same. “Match made in heaven or Hell, huh?”
“And where you go, I’ll follow,” he smiled.
You'd follow him, too. “Well, right now you need to eat breakfast and head out so you aren't late for your meeting.”
He groaned and refrained from rolling his eyes. “This suit is coming off as soon as I get back,” he said, much to your disappointment. Or maybe your delight.
“Right when you get back?” You bit your lip. “Will you use the tie on me?”
“I can,” he smirked, making your body heat up all over again. “Can have a little fun in the office, too. Pretend I’m your boss and-”
“Or I could be your boss since I'm strong and capable,” you teased.
He moaned, seemingly into that idea as he backed you against the island. “Boss or not, I’ll still bend you over the desk or have you sit on it while I eat your pretty pussy.”
You whined. There was no stopping Bucky when he was hungry. He’d spread your legs and stay between them until you cried, lap up every drop and still want more.
His hands roamed your body, forgetting all about breakfast. “Fuck you raw and fill you up just the way you-”
Bob cleared his throat, both of you turning toward the sound. How long had the poor guy been standing there? “Just getting a drink,” he said, quickly going to the fridge and avoiding looking at you. “I’m not even here.”
“Sorry, Bob,” you smiled sheepishly when he grabbed his drink and bolted. “We should probably rent a hotel room or something soon and give the team a break.”
You and Bucky could be extremely private some days and others there was no stopping you. How the team put up with it you had no idea. Maybe because you made each other happy. It still had to be slightly obnoxious for them.
Bucky scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile on his handsome face, too. “Or we could always do a campout on the roof so we aren't too far away,” he suggested.
You smiled as you imagined it. Looking out over the city and watching the stars before cuddling up in a tent. A cabin getaway was also something to keep in mind for the future when you two could take a break together. Peaceful, quiet. Something just for the two of you.
“A roof campout sounds nice,” you said.
“Good,” Bucky smirked before he picked you up and set you on the island. “Campout later. Right now I want breakfast.”
“Bucky, your meeting.”
“I won't be late.”
You didn't resist when he opened your legs. “Ava said no more fooling around in the kitchen since we eat here,” you reminded him. Alexei would probably encourage it. “And I just cleaned up, and you haven't eaten the food I made.”
“I’ll clean up the mess,” he winked as he crouched down. “And I’ll eat after I eat.”
And he did.
We deserve this. Bucky deserves this. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.
Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
Steve kneels between your legs. You quiver as he splays his hands over your thighs, kneading your tender flesh with a growl. He pushes himself back and bends over you, his weight sinking you into the mattress. His lips graze above his fingers, just beneath the trim of your panties, twisted still from his tending.
His nose tickles you as he traces along the outside of your thighs, planting kisses all along your dimpled skin. You twitch and he snarls deep, giving a gentle nip. You spread your hands over the blanket and tense as he creeps closer to his prize.
His breath dampens your skin and the thin lace, adding warmth to the slickness already there.
He nuzzles the panties and drags his finger along the seam. He hooks beneath and tugs them aside. He startles you with the swipe of his tongue. You squeak and dig your heels into the bed. Your stomach coils in on itself and your core thrums with a new heat. You look down at his blonde head, the silver streaks falling forward and tickling your pelvis. You moan as he spreads his tongue wide and tastes you completely. He pulls his tongue up and flicks your clit with the tip. You whine again.
You bend your legs as your muscles draw tight and you arch your back as he delves into you heedlessly. He groans and growls as he drinks you up shamelessly. Speckles of fire and ice spread over your thighs and up to your neck. You gasp as your breath shallows as the waves curl inside of you.
He rocks his head and you clutch at the blanket. Your eyes roll back and tendrils wind around your chest and throat. You spasm and cum, heaving as the tides crash upon you in sheer ecstasy, washing away the layers of fear.
He massages your thighs as he keeps going, pushing your legs wide. He devours you, smearing your delight all over his nose and chin. He fuels you to another climax, even more striking than the last, your legs twitching, your toes curling.
You reach down to tug on his hair as his tongue swirls and swirls.
"Please, please," you beg, "please-- Steve."
He chuckles into you, a rumble that rolls through your guts. He gives one last swipe of his tongue and lifts his head. He looks up at you as your lashes flick open. Your head bobbles as you lift it to meet his gaze. His lips are shiny with your cum.
He sits up on his knees, his boxers bulging as his chest flexes, his thick middle tautening. He moves closer and bends over you, holding himself above you on his elbows. You smell the sweetness on his breath as he sighs.
"Say it," he snarls.
You exhale and flutter your lashes.
"Say you want me, baby." Your walls clench and your stomach ripples. You moan. He brings a hand to your chin and frames your face with his large hand. "Baby."
"I--" you wisp. "I... want you."
"Yeah?" He purrs.
You nod into his hand. Maybe not, but you need him. In this state, you just need more.
He pushes off of you. He hooks his fingers in the elastic of his boxers and raises himself he shoves them down, untangling himself as the bed bounces with his effort. He settles back down and grips your hips. His thumbs poke into your flesh and he lifts you just slightly.
He shifts even closer as he drapes your thighs against his. You whimper as he grabs his dick, pumping his thick length as his throat locks up. He grits out a grunt. You can't look away from what's in his hand. He's... big.
He aims his tip along your cunt and spreads your wetness over him. He groans as he does. He inches down to your entrance and pauses. He keeps his other hand on your hip and looks you in the eye.
"You ready, baby?"
Your lips part and you blink. You swallow dryly, "y-yes."
His eyes fall down between your legs and he eases into you. Just his head before he stops. He bites his lip and dips in little by little, stopping with each inch as he feels you adjust to him.
You twitch around him and he slides back. You shiver and slap the bed with a moan. He thrusts back in, deeper than before, and retreats again. He rocks, deliberately, stretching you until you’re squirming, before rearing back. With each plunge, he pushes your limits.
He falls into a rhythm. He grips your hip tight as his other hand crawls up your stomach. He kneads the cushion there and grunt between shallow breaths. His jaw squares as his blue eyes turn smoky.
He drags his hand down your side and along your thigh. He caresses down to your knee then pulls your legs up straight. He leans your foot against his shoulder, his hand wrapped around your ankle, and he kisses it.
He keeps his motion as he purrs. Your brush your hand across the blanket and over your torso. You tremble as your fingertips graze your throat and over your chin. You bite into the heel of your hand and drone.
You puff out as your insides tangle. He trails over your pelvis and wiggles his thumb between your folds. He rolls over your clit and you gasp. You tense up and reach for him.
“Steve,” you squeal.
He chuckles and does it again. You shake and he watches you fall apart. He lets your leg fall away from him and bends over you once more. He smothers your lips with his as he pumps into you. He twists his hand around and plays with you with his middle finger.
You pout into his mouth as he hooks his arm beneath you. His tongue delves into your mouth. He pulls back with long strokes only to glide back in.
You curl your arm around his and latch onto his bicep. You whine as you cum again, the slickness spreading up his pelvis and along your thighs. You clasp the back of his head and keep him there, tilting your hips as you welcome him deeper.
He snarls and tightens his hold around you. He sits up with you against him. Your head spins.
He fucks you from below as you match his pace. You shouldn’t. You know it but there’s something else that drives you on. Something desperate. Something... broken. He makes you feel wanted in a way you never have. Who he is, what he is, doesn’t matter in that moment.
You hang your head back and moan. You cum again as you lean back, hanging onto his shoulders as your hips rock on their own. He growls and flicks his finger around your clit. Your thighs quake until you have no strength left.
Before you can fall, he lays you down. He groans and you bat your lashes dozily. His eyes graze up and down your body. He fixates on your cunt and slowly pulls out. You twitch as he leaves you empty.
He licks his lips and traces up your legs, to your pelvis, then hips, along your stomach, around the curves of your body, fondling your chest, then gently petting your throat. He cradles your head between his large hands as his thumb rubs your cheek.
“I told ya, I'll take care of you.”
He releases you and sits back. He grabs your hip and flips you over. You roll onto your stomach without resistance. His other hand latches around your side and he pulls your ass up. You whimper and rest your cheek against the blanket. Your sweat dampens it, your scent wafting into your lungs.
He pushes his tip between your cheeks and down to your entrance. He slips into you once more. You moan. He bends over your back and loops his arm around your middle. He nestles his chin against your shoulder and sits back with you.
He keeps your thighs splayed over his as he rocks beneath you. The pressure pulses in your core as he reaches to turn your head. He kisses you as he fucks you patiently. His tongue tangles with yours as his other hand flutters down your stomach. Again, he toys with your clit, plucking you to the edge.
He frames your chin as he keeps you locked in. His tempo builds, your flesh clapping noisily as his thrusts reverberate through every part of you. You clutch his wrist and he kisses along your cheek as you babble.
“Yeah, baby, this is what you needed, isn’t it?” He growls.
You moan. You can’t speak.
“I needed this too. Wanted it.” He huffs as his grip tightens. “Dreamt of it...”
He bows his head and pants against your shoulder. His hair falls forward and tickles you. He ruts into you, faster and faster. His deep breaths turn to rocky grunts. He snarls and pushes you forward.
He falls on you, crushing you to the mattress as he fucks you into it. He hammers into you until you’re whining. The bed frame shakes and knocks against the wall furiously.
You feel him spill inside of you. He slows, easing out just to his tip, and plunging back in. The noise it makes sends a chill through you.
He stills as he keeps you trapped against the bed. Your heartbeat calms and your breath comes easier. Your sweaty skin sticks to his. You’re exhausted.
He isn’t. He starts again. Slow at first. His hips moving little by little, building to full strokes. In, out, in, out. You shudder beneath him.
“Baby, I told ya, I’m not getting off you,” he pets your head as he finds his rhythm. “Mm, you’re perfect for me. Built for me.” He growls. “The way you’re clinging to me. I never felt anything like it.”
Your lashes feel heavy as you blink dopily. He kisses your cheek.
“Nah, you don’t do nothing. I got you. You let me do the work,” he purrs. “Nothing you gotta do.” He fucks you steadily but not enough to put himself over. “You’re beautiful, you know that? Goddamn gorgeous--”
You close your eyes as they tinge and your nose tingles. Beneath the pleasure and the adrenaline, is something else. Something you don’t think of. You bend your arm and squeeze his bicep.
“Baby...” he purrs.
“Steve,” you sniffle. “Steve, please--”
“That’s it. Let yourself feel good.”
“Steve,” you croak and the first tear trickles out. You slap his arm. “I-- get off! Please, I--”
You turn your face down to hide the sudden overflow. You fold your arm under your head as your back wracks. He stops and caresses your hair. He hushes you as you try to suck back the sobs.
“I’m sorry--”
He pulls out and forces you onto your back, right onto his arm. He holds you, one hand rubbing your thigh as he cooes.
“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” He asks.
There’s a lot he’s done that scares you, but this is something else. It’s ridiculous. Pathetic. Why are you even crying.
“Baby, please, did I hurt you?”
You shake your head and stare at his chest, hiding behind your webbed lashes. You wipe your face with the back of your hand.
“It’s nothing, really, I’m just...” you scoff at yourself. “It’s been a while.”
“Me too, baby. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
“Yeah, uh...” you flick away tears, frustrated as they keep flowing.
“I’d wait just as long again to be with a woman as beautiful as you--”
“Steve,” you turn your head away.
“What?”
“Stop that,” you hiss.
“Stop what?”
“Lying.”
“Lying? I told ya. I won’t do that.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Calling you... beautiful?”
You nod and stare at the wall. He laughs.
“I gotta tell the truth, baby-”
“It’s not true.” You catch his wrist as he trails up your stomach. “Alright.”
“That’s what making you cry?”
“No-- yes. N--” you sputter. You sniff. “No one ever... said it. It’s not true.”
He shakes you off of him. He brings his hand up to your chin and turns your head. “Look at me.”
You look down.
“Baby, listen to me. Look.”
The stone in his timbre makes you obey. You look into his blue eyes. They winkle as he gazes at you.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I ever seen. You’re the reason I got out. Without you, I woulda gotten ten years for bashing in the next pest who got under my feet.” His thumb rubs along your cheek. “I was good. For you.” He leans in, “cause I need you that bad.”
He presses his lips to yours, stemming all argument and any more tears. You’ll believe his lies. It’ll make this easier.
Summary: You have an old car that constantly gives you issues, but you refuse to get a new one. If you did, that meant you wouldn't be able to see your favorite mechanic as much.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
The tow truck lowers your car on the lot of Barnes Auto Shop. Bucky stands there with his hands on his hips looking disapprovingly.
You hop out of the tow truck and give him a sheepish grin, "Heeeey, Bucky."
He groans as he approaches you, "Sweetheart, you're killin' me here! Just get a new car, please!"
"No way! Angel still has some life in her!" you pat the top of the pale blue Ford Anglia. It was your grandpa's car. He loved that thing and left it to you in his will when he passed. You couldn't give up Angel. Giving her up would mean giving up the last piece you had for your grandpa.
Bucky sighs and looks at Angel, "Looks like Angel is on her last legs, if you ask me."
You narrow your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, "Hey, I'm giving you business, Barnes."
He chuckles and steps closer to you, "What you're giving me is a headache, sweetheart," he pecks you lips, "You're taking advantage of me and my business!"
You playfully roll your eyes, "Oh please. You and I both know this is mutually beneficial. I get my car fixed and you get amazing head from me," you give him a wink and he shakes his head.
He gives another deep chuckle and pats your butt, "Go take a seat while I look under the hood."
"Can you look under my hood after?" you ask with smirk.
"If you behave!" he says with a laugh.
___________________________
You watch Bucky with interest as he leans over the hood of your car. Turns out, you ran out of oil. So nothing too bad that needed to be fixed.
"Stop eye-fucking me. It's distracting," he says with a grin.
You grin back, "Can't help it. You know how I love my men all rugged and covered in grease. Every woman's fantasy."
After your car was topped off, Bucky turned on the engine. It took a few tries, but Angel roared back to life.
You hop off the stool you occupied with glee, "She liiiiives!" You wrap your arms around Bucky and peck his stubbled cheek, "Thank you, baby."
"Yeah. Yeah, but seriously, you need to get a new car. I'm not saying get rid of Angel. It's just...it'd ease my heart and mind knowing you're driving a well-trusted car."
You give him a sigh, "I know. My grandpa-"
"I know. If it makes you feel any better, we can keep Angel here. Put her on display and you can drive her around the lot just to keep her going."
"I'll think about it," you say, a part of you already coming to terms with parting from Angel.
"Thank you, sweetheart," he mumbles and kisses your lips, "Now...about that payment..." he alludes with a smirk and dark mischief in his eyes.
disclaimer: mentions of mental health, lots of talk of insecurities, bucky/hydra yk how it is. a lot of this is very close to home for me, so please read at your own discretion.
this came from this thought i posted about yesterday.
~~~
fuck, you could do this forever. if this was the only thing you could do for the rest of your life, you would die content.
you wanted to devour him.
you had him laid out on your bed, finally reciprocating the princess treatment he always gave you. that’s what you deserved, he would always tell you, only the best for you.
but now it’s your turn to do what you will with him. show him that he deserves princess treatment, even if it makes his face flush pink.
you slowly peel his clothes off, watching like you’ve never done this before, never seen him undressed for you before. it’s been how many hundreds of times, and yet, you feel like you never get the chance to just look. you decide to take that chance now, knowing you have all the time in the world to just be in this moment, with him.
a much needed moment of reprieve to just be together, just the two of you.
his pants come off first, then his shirt, and you trail your mouth from his neck down to your chest. “such pretty tits, baby,” you say to him, partially teasing him, but you mean it with your entire heart. you leave marks all over, not letting an inch of his chest go unkissed.
“shut up,” he responds, his face going pink, but he loves it. he loves when you call him pretty, loves knowing how much you want him, even when you embarrass him with little comments like those. he soaks up every moment of it, of you on top of him, just worshipping him.
you gently touch over his soft skin, letting him relax into the feeling; you slowly feel the tension in his body start to slip away. you know well enough by now to know that it means the anxieties in his head are calming, so you take it as a sign to keep going.
you trail your fingers up to the scarred tissue across his shoulder, a brutal reminder of the tortures he once suffered at the hands of the cruel scientists and power-hungry motherfuckers–
your rage can wait.
your touch is ever so delicate over his skin, cautious that you don’t hurt him in the process. all you want is to make him feel loved, cared for. teach him to associate this part of him not with what was done to him, but with the love and care you have for even the parts of himself he hates the most.
you bring your mouth to kiss his shoulder and, of course, he tenses. but this time, it’s not as bad, you realize. it’s more of a surprise than a scare.
joy always fills your heart when you realize that something you’re doing is working. that he’s learning to trust you, blindly. that he wants to trust you, no hesitations and no questions asked.
you card your other hand through his hair, pressing your lips to his temple before bringing them back to his scars.
he lets you. his hands come gently to your hips, to ground himself that you’re real, that you’re there with him, that he’s not crazy. to tell himself that he’s not still stuck in hydra’s grasp, and he is most certainly not dreaming of a life he’ll never have.
because you’re real. this is the life he gets to live now, with you.
you’re his. something real, something soft, something he wants more than anything. so he lets himself feel your skin. your lips on his scars. your hips under his hold.
once he’s well and relaxed, keening into your touch, you keep going, kissing down his stomach.
he doesn’t miss anything about hydra. he doesn’t miss anything about being the winter soldier.
but if he’s honest?
he mourns the loss of the chiseled figure he once had. he wonders if you would love him more like that, pure muscle, perfectly toned.
and then your words come to his head, reminding him that’s not real. that’s the product of the constant physical strain he was under, the lack of proper nourishment. it’s not real.
but sometimes, that’s not enough to ease his worries of needing to be better, to be perfect for you.
you don’t think you’ll ever convince him of how perfect he is, but you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to.
your hands come to his waist, still not letting an inch of his skin go untouched by your soft lips.
he sighs and his hands come to your hair. “baby, stop,” he whispers. he doesn’t mean it, but he can’t stop himself from the doubts taking over in his mind.
“what’s wrong?” you inquire. you know what’s wrong, and he gives you that look. you both know–it doesn’t need to be said out loud.
“I love you like this, baby,” you promise him with another kiss to his waist. he shifts uncomfortably.
it breaks your heart.
“don’t you like my tummy, baby?” you try, voice soft and sweet, voicing your own insecurities to just show him–
“yeah, but it’s sexy on you, baby,” he argues. you shake your head. fuck that.
“then why can’t I think the same about you, baby?” you try, roaming your hands over his soft skin.
he huffs.
“you know I’m right…” you say, punctuating it with another kiss. you keep going, and eventually his hands come to your hair, gently stroking your head and silently showing his acceptance of your affections. it makes your heart soar.
you wish you could express to this man how much you love him, how much you trust him. there’s not a single thing wrong with him.
for now, you’ll keep reminding him with your words and your lips, because he deserves it. all of it.
Summary: You're done with work, and Bucky is eager to have you.
Word Count: Over 2k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, porn with very little plot, oral sex (m. receiving, f. implied), implied unprotected v. sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dirty talk, bit of fluff, established relationship, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: @fckmebarnes gave me permission to run with this post. I appreciate you, my lovely! Also submitting this for @avengers-assemble-bingo Kinky Bingo (prompt - "kneel for me"). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You slumped in your desk chair and sighed. Work was finally done for the day. You could sign off, relax, and have that movie night with Bucky. It worried him that you'd work a little over since it had been busy, but you thankfully didn’t have to worry about getting trapped at the office or dealing with traffic. You ended your week at 40 hours and not a second more.
“I’m done! I’m free!” you called out, frowning when you took your earbuds out and left the office. The place was quiet. Bucky didn’t keep the television or music too loud anyway thanks to his sharp hearing, but you didn’t hear a sound. Maybe he decided to take a quick nap or read while he waited for you. He was also stealthy as hell and could’ve moved around the place without drawing attention.
As if Bucky read your thoughts, he let out a moan from the living room. The sound was so sexy that you stopped in your tracks. It didn’t matter if Bucky Barnes moaned, growled, whimpered, gasped, each sound was a blessing and erotic music to your ears. Not only that, it was your name that he moaned.
Suffice to say your panties were already damp when you found the strength to walk again.
“Bucky?” you asked, locking eyes with him once you made it to the living room.
Your beautiful god of man sat naked on the couch, his metal arm draped over the back as his eyes slid up and down your body. Shivering under his heated stare and watching as the blue of his eyes faded to a small ring around the blown pupils, you stood mesmerized as he spread his legs more. He was like a king, powerful, imposing, commanding. And everything about the man was big; thick thighs, broad torso, ripped arms, and a massive cock that he lazily stroked.
Doing your best not to drool, you couldn’t help the whimper you let out. He was so hard, so big, and it was all for you. Another pair of panties thoroughly ruined thanks to him, the way he always ruined you.
“Finally.” The husk in his voice made you shiver again. “Hope you don’t mind that I started without you.”
Knowing him, he likely counted down the seconds until you signed off. “You don’t plan to finish without me, do you?” you asked, starting to strip down. He licked his lips at the sight of you and groaned when your breasts spilled free. It didn’t matter how many times he saw you naked, it was always like he was seeing you for the first time. If anything you felt more confident in your body thanks to him.
“I plan to finish in or on you. Maybe both. Figured I’d start with your mouth,” he smirked, nodding to the floor. He already had a pillow waiting for you, not wanting your knees to feel sore. The thoughtful gesture spread more heat through you and made your heart race. He was also thoughtful enough to put a towel underneath himself to not get the couch dirty. “How badly do you wanna suck my cock? Dyin’ to get your pretty lips wrapped around me.”
You whimpered again. You loved this sexual side of your man, unafraid of being vocal. Intimacy and trust had taken time, and it was worth every second. He was worth every second.
“Before I even think about sucking your cock, are you even going to ask how the rest of work was?” you teased, tossing your ruined underwear at him once they were off.
He caught them easily and let out an obscene moan when he put them to his nose and mouth. Your exhale was shaky as he moaned again into them and stroked himself faster. “How was the rest of work?” he asked against the fabric. “Fucking Christ, these are soaked. You smell so good. This all for me?”
“It’s always for you,” you said, tempted to dip your hand between your legs and touch yourself like he was doing. “And work was fine.” He would've known if it was anything other than fine since he liked to check on you.
“You work so hard, sweetheart. You deserve a reward,” he smirked, setting the underwear aside. “So I’ll ask again- How badly do you want to suck my cock?”
Watching him smear the precum around the tip with his thumb, it was a feat you hadn’t dropped right to your knees. “Enough to beg for it,” you admitted. Who wouldn’t want to suck his cock? Who wouldn’t beg for him?
“I won’t make you beg. I’ll give it to you,” he promised, beckoning you forward with a metal finger. He’d get you off, too, since he was a giving partner like that.
You strode toward him naked, confident. Before you could drop to your knees, he lunged forward and gripped the back of your head. His mouth met yours when your lips parted, swallowing down your gasp. Pliant and eager, you allowed him to take control when his tongue plunged in and didn’t stop him when the metal hand slid from the back of your head to your front.
“You’re addicting,” he breathed, making you gasp again when he brushed his thumb across a hardened nipple. “I’ll never get enough of you.”
Your throat went dry at the raw desire in his eyes, wishing you could form a coherent response. After everything he experienced, he deserved to have whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was you. It still made your head spin.
“Oh, yeah? Then how badly do you want me to suck your cock?” you asked.
“Enough to beg for it,” he replied, repeating your words. He’d get on his knees if you asked, something he’d never do for anyone else.
“I won’t make you beg. I’ll give it to you,” you smiled, repeating his words back in turn.
He let out a sharp breath. “Kneel for me,” he ordered, something tender in his gaze when you obediently dropped to your knees. Bringing a hand to your cheek, your skin warmed under his touch. “You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart.”
Your heart thudded against your chest. “You’re beautiful.” Bucky was a work of art that some higher being deemed too perfect in creation and gave him scars to take that perfection away. It only made him more beautiful in your eyes. You wanted him to see how much you wanted him, wanted him to feel it in his heart.
“Show me with your mouth how beautiful you think I am,” he whispered.
You’d show him that, and how much you loved him and more.
Gently batting his hand away, you replaced it with yours and gripped the base. Your walls clenched, wanting to feel that thickness inside you, but you'd be patient. Breathing over the head of his cock and gazing up at him, you pressed a kiss to it and licked the drop of precum from your lips. The flavor exploded on your tongue, taking over the way he always took over.
He groaned and bucked his hips slightly, demanding more of your mouth when you sucked the head in and didn’t go further. You wanted to tease him a little, but relented and took a bit more in. “Feels so good. Your mouth is perfect. All of your holes are perfect,” he growled, putting a hand on your head again but not pushing you down. “And they’re just for me.”
You moaned, swallowing as much of him down as you could at his possessive tone. The first time you went down on him your eyes watered when he hit the back of your throat, but now your throat relaxed and made room for him. He carved out a home for himself in every part of you.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his thrusts shallow at first as he held you in place. “Should take a picture and show you how pretty you look with my cock shoved down your throat.”
You keened and let him glide along your tongue, your clit throbbing and hole clenching. He could take as many pictures as he wanted. And squeezing his thigh, you silently gave him permission to use you, to take what he wanted. As if he didn’t get that message loud and clear, you gave his heavy balls a gentle squeeze, too.
His control snapped.
You whined and looked up at him. You had to be a sight to behold, your lips stretched around his girth, saliva seeping from the corners of your mouth, a little shine in your eyes. And him? His cheeks rosier than usual, eyes half lidded, mouth parted as he panted. He was on the verge of ecstasy. That was what you did to each other.
“That’s it. That’s my girl. Take it,” he praised, pushing faster, deeper. You breathed through your nose and tried to bring a hand between your legs to relieve yourself, but you froze when he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare. That’s my pussy, and I’m getting you off after this.”
You whined again. Of course he would. But if your pussy was his, then his cock was yours and you were going to show him that.
You dragged your tongue along one of his veins, knowing how insane it drove him, before you bobbed your head at an almost punishing pace. “Gonna make me come,” he groaned to warn you, but you didn’t let up. You wanted to make him come just like this. Down your throat or on your face, it didn’t matter. You wanted him to claim you as much as you were claiming him.
His cock pulsed and he trembled before he grunted your name. His eyes nearly rolled back when his hips stuttered, lost in the heat of your mouth as he came. The taste of him hit your tongue before he pulled you off, hardly giving you a chance to suck in a breath or swallow as the rest of his release splashed on your lips and chin. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d finish in and on you.
You felt debauched, owned, and perfect.
“So fucking beautiful,” he panted, smearing his taste across your lip with his thumb before you sucked it into your mouth. “And so greedy,” he teased.
“It’s your fault,” you said, your voice raspy before he brought a bottle of water to your lips. Of course he had that beside him. You would’ve noticed if you hadn’t been so occupied by the sight of him jerking off.
“Glad I could get you addicted to me,” he smiled, leaning forward once you had enough to drink. It was true. Bucky Barnes was an addiction. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern suddenly etched on his handsome face.
You smiled when his fingertips skimmed your throat. As insatiable as he was, he never wanted you sore or uncomfortable. “More than okay,” you promised. You would’ve given him a sign if you weren’t, and he would’ve picked up on any discomfort.
“Wasn’t too much?” he pressed just to be sure.
“Never,” you promised, kissing his lips. He would never be too much for you.
He sighed into the kiss. “Then come here.”
“What are you…” Your eyes widened when he made you straddle him, keeping you hovered over his cock. He was still hard. Or was he hard again? Damn super soldier and his stamina.
“Told you I’d get my pussy off. Not about to leave any of your holes empty tonight,” he smirked, rubbing the head along your wet walls and licking the remainder of his release from your chin. “After I’m done fucking you, you can sit on my face.”
You shuddered and gripped his shoulders when he kissed the corner of your mouth, desperately wanting him to fill you up and have his stubble leave a delicious burn once he feasted. “We aren’t watching movies tonight, are we?”
“No, but this is much more fun.” You had to agree. “Now take a seat because we aren’t done by a long shot.”
Hope you lovelies enjoyed! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
PT!Cole and his Omega picking fruits on the farm (be it apples in an orchard or strawberries) - how long do we think this fun task-date becomes fucking against a tree/ between the berries? 🤭😏🍓🍎🍏
Heeeee! I love that Pound Town is getting so much love 😊 This scenario is so sweet! Here's how I'm thinking it would unfold...
You had been learning how to cook over the past month or so. Cole was such a good alpha, and he took such good care of you, the least you could do was become a decent enough cook to keep him well fed.
And you had genuinely taken to cooking, too. The farmhouse kitchen was so lovely and well equipped, you felt right at home flitting around it.
Not to mention, your cooking was just another channel to earn your alpha's admiration and praise. It always made you so fluttery inside when Cole enjoyed your food and raved over how good of a cook you were.
So when he mentioned that there was a small apple orchard on the property, you perked up instantly, remembering the old fashioned apple pie recipe you had bookmarked in the new cook book Cole had gotten you just last week.
"I could take you there?" he offered with a soft smile after seeing your reaction.
"I would like that very much, alpha."
Barely an hour later, you were standing in the little orchard, clasping your hands to your chest as you gazed between the half a dozen or so apple trees that filled the area.
The crisp, sweet scent of apples hung heavy in the air, and honestly, it kind of felt like you were in a dream.
You never thought you'd have a life like this.
"Why don't we start here?" Cole suggested, as he moved past you toward the closest apple tree.
You trailed him, stopping to pick up a few apples that had fallen to the ground. You smiled, because even they were in very good condition. You held one to your nose and inhaled deeply, happiness flooding through you at the sweet aroma.
These would make the perfect apple pie.
"Omega."
You startled at Cole's voice, and how deep and husky it was.
When you opened your eyes, which you had unknowingly closed in your appley bliss, he was watching you with that look he often got around you, his nostrils flaring slightly before he cleared his throat and you could actually see him rein himself in.
"You see any you really want?" he nodded upwards.
You scurried closer, pointing out a few, and then taking a step back to watch as Cole use a fruit picker basket tool to grab the apples you had pointed out, plus quite a few more.
Before long, you had to set the apple basket at your feet because it was getting too heavy to hold, and it was nearly halfway full.
The haul was impressive, but so was something else.
Cole.
He was very handsome, of course. His big body lean and strong from the work he did on the farm, but watching him reach up with the apple picking tool, his arm muscles flexing, his t-shirt riding up to bare his firm stomach and the happy trail that led down to...
Well, you just couldn't help it as you started to squirm.
Cole turned and dropped a final apple into the basket, and he paused over it, ever so slowly straightening.
When he did, you saw him take a slow, deep inhale, his gaze smoky and fixed on you, his nostrils flaring again as he tasted your sweet, musky scent of arousal on his tongue.
You could feel the jolt of his desire for you through the bond, and that was all the warning you got before he pounced on you.
Mere moments later, he had you sprawled at the base of the apple tree, your dress askew, your cries loud and keening as he rutted into you eagerly.
When Cole popped the buttons at the top of your dress, tugged down the cups of your bra, and got his mouth on your bare breast, you moaned, your pussy fluttering around his cock as he drove into you faster.
"Alpha," you whined, clinging to his hips with your knees and rocking up against him just as desperately as he writhed against you.
He groaned in response, his thrusts becoming erratic as his hand dug between your bodies to find your clit.
Your hand shot out over your head as he railed you harder, jerking your soft, curvy body beneath him as he chased his pleasure as you came hard around his cock.
You were distantly aware of the rough tree bark against your fingers, the rest of you ascending to the height of your pleasure as bliss sparkled all along your body and you felt your alpha cum inside you with a hot, sticky rush.
Cole sank on top of you with a pleased purr rumbling his chest, still kissing and mouthing along your sensitive nipples before resting his cheek against your shoulder.
His purr became louder when your hand lifted to touch his hair, fingers weaving through the wild, sweaty strands as the last dregs of your orgasm faded away with a few final flutters of your pussy around your alpha's knot.
"You are so distracting in the best way, omega," Cole murmured. His head popped up, his eyes so warm and his lips curling into an amused smile as he met your shy gaze. "I really wasn't planning on this when I brought you out here, by the way."
"I don't mind," you smiled. "You always make me feel so good, alpha."
Cole's handsome features softened as he dipped close and kissed you slowly. "You're perfect," he murmured before indulging in another kiss, and then another. He kissed you languidly until his knot went down before finally retreating from your swollen lips. "Let's get you back to the house and cleaned up, and then we can make that apple pie together, how's that sound?"
"That sounds perfect," you replied, stealing a final kiss from Cole’s tempting lips before he pulled away and carefully helped you to your feet.
Summary: You and Bucky are texting back and forth while he's on a mission and you decide to tease him a little...
Author's Note: The new Thunderbolts trailer has me so excited to see Bucky! I can't wait! And this idea is nothing new but I love getting him riled up! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! PS Italics are text messages :)
Warnings: fun flirty tension and mostly smut, fingering, oral (f rec), edging, orgasm denial, choking, p in v (wrap it up kids), Bucky is soft in between it all
‘It’s really unfair that you’re walking around like that and I’m not with you…how many women have approached you so far?’
You stare at your phone screen, watching the three dots until his text pops up.
‘The only woman paying any attention to me right now is Yelena and it’s only because she has to. Ha.’
‘Nice try. You look hot. I want to come to the party…’
‘Don’t you dare leave the apartment doll face. You know it’s not safe and besides, I can’t concentrate with you around…you’re very distracting.’
‘HEY!’
'❤️😘I love you.'
‘Love you too. Be careful and come home soon.’
‘Always doll. I can’t wait. Miss you.’
‘Miss you more.’
~picture~
Bucky stares at his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen as the muscles in his jaw tighten and shift. He let’s out a low growl, startling an older woman that happens to be walking by.
His hand grips the phone tighter and he licks his lips with a strained exhale.
“Barnes. We must go. It’s time,” Yelena says, surprising him.
He makes a slight jump and her lips curve into a knowing smirk.
“What?” he grunts.
“Nothing,” she responds her smile widening. “Let us get this over with so you can get home to your girl. Da?”
He nods and glances at his phone one more time before he slips it into his pocket.
You don’t bother waiting for an answer after sending the picture and place your phone down on the bed to reach for your book. It’s hard to concentrate when all you can think about is him, but you do your best, letting the words on the page whisk you away for now.
By the time Bucky arrives back home you’re half asleep, your eyes heavy and the words on the page blurring together.
He barely makes any sound as he unlocks the door, his footsteps the only indication he’s headed toward the bedroom.
The light from the hallway filters into the room but his broad frame blocks most of it, hiding him in shadow.
“Bucky,” you whisper and sit up, now fully awake.
He moves toward you with purposeful steps and stands at the edge of the bed, his eyes raking over every inch of you.
“Doll,” he murmurs, remaining motionless, taking in every hint of lace, every tiny bow, and every curve of your body.
You sit up and kneel on the bed in front of him, sliding your hands up and down his chest. His fingers twitch at his sides and you lean closer, brushing the hair from his face.
He grabs your hips and drags you into him, the hardness in his pants digging into your stomach. You let out a surprised gasp that turns into a moan he swallows with his kiss.
When he breaks away from your lips, it’s only so he can whisper in your ear. “Do you like teasing me doll?”
You nod with a shiver, clutching onto his shoulders.
“I..” You struggle to get the words out as his lips trail down your neck.
His long finger hooks under the strap of your lingerie and he traces the calloused pad along the curve of your shoulder.
“Mm,” he hums, sliding his hand down your stomach and between your thighs, pressing the thin fabric of your panties against your wetness. “So wet for me and I’ve barely touched you.”
Your hips jerk into his hand and he circles your clit with a featherlight touch.
“I’m gonna return the favor doll.”
“Bucky,” you whine, barely registering his threat.
His mouth curves up as his gaze darkens, satisfaction mingling with the heat of desire. You tug futilely on his bow tie, desperate for more of his skin but he stops you with a firm hand to your wrist.
“Keep your hands to yourself for now.”
Your mouth falls open with a defiant protest, but he interrupts you. “Or I’ll bind you and stuff my cock in your mouth to keep you quiet.”
A small gasp is all that escapes your parted lips before he covers them with his, carefully and deliberately unhooking your bra and pulling it off your body. Your stiff nipples brush against the soft material of his tux, building the tension about to snap in your body.
His finger continues to tease between your legs before he drags your panties down to your knees. They stop there, the bed preventing him from pulling them off any more so instead he gives them a sharp tug and rips the fabric from your legs.
“You could have just…”
His kiss silences you again and he bites your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth before soothing it with his tongue.
At the same time, his finger slides inside you, slowly pumping in and out before he adds another. You wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him as he pushes you down onto the bed and settles between your legs.
Like a man starved, his tongue moves against you, his fingers still buried deep, and a cry of his name tears from your throat.
Your legs try to close reflexively, but his grip keeps them wide open. He isn’t slow and easy and when you look down at him, still fully dressed, head buried between your thighs, you feel your release build.
His tongue finds your clit and you urge him on with a gasped, “more.”
“Who said you could make any demands doll face?” he murmurs into your skin.
“But…”
He dips his head again and you lose all train of thought, legs shaking, pressure building. You rock your hips toward his face and feel his smile. You’re so close, your stomach clenching and he pulls away.
“No! Bucky please! Let me come!”
“Doll,” he warns. “You’ll come when I tell you to.”
He slides up your body, his lips and chin wet with your arousal, brushing them across your mouth and letting you taste yourself. You kiss him back, raking your fingers through his hair and then down his back.
His fingers are back between your legs, two sliding inside you as he swallows your moans with this mouth. You buck into his hand and when he presses his thumb against your clit you pull away from his lips and arch your back.
“Bucky!” you cry out.
He pushes a third finger inside you and your legs tremble at the pleasure and sensation of being stretched. You can’t catch your breath, his thumb still working over your clit as his fingers fuck you.
Your body locks up and you clutch at anything you can, his back, the sheets, his ass and then his fingers are gone.
“No,” you beg with a whimper.
“I told you…I’m going to tease you back.”
“This isn’t teasing…it’s torture!”
His touch is gentle as he traces the line of your jaw, passing his fingertips over your swollen lips before kissing them.
“Should I stop then? I can go get changed and we can go to bed if you like.”
“Bucky…” you groan with impatience.
“That’s what I thought doll face.”
Your breath comes out unevenly as you watch him sit up, take off his jacket, and undo his pants. His cock springs free against his abs and he wraps his fist around it, pumping slowly as he lowers himself over you.
He teases your entrance, sliding himself through your wetness and bumping your clit with every roll of his hips. You squirm beneath him, trying to line yourself up so he can get inside you.
“So needy,” he whispers into your neck.
With an incoherent whine you wrap your legs around him, and he finally starts to push inside you. You struggle to breathe through the stretch but he pushes in more, making you take him deeper, and your eyes flutter closed.
“Open your eyes. Look at me doll.”
You obey and snap them open, his hips thrusting to bury the last of him deep inside you.
“You feel incredible. I can’t get enough,” he murmurs.
He keeps his pace steady, each languid movement setting your nerves ablaze with an unhurried and unrelenting build up.
His eyes focus on your face, and he smooths his metal hand up to your throat, circling it with little pressure. You clench around him with anticipation, and he groans, his grip tightening.
Everything fades around you as he squeezes harder, restricting your air flow. All your other senses dull, leaving you with just the heady sensation of his hand around your throat and the rapture of him driving into you.
Your mouth opens to get air, only letting the barest amounts in as your heart hammers against your chest. His blue eyes are fixed on yours, entranced with your every reaction. His thumb caresses your neck, the gesture so tender it makes your whole-body shiver.
He releases you just as his warm breath fans your skin and he shifts to kiss the spots on your neck where his fingers left a light print. You suck in a large gasp of air, your back arching.
He swears, his hips now snapping forward in rough, uncontrolled thrusts. His metal hand moves between your legs, working over the spot you need him most.
“Come for me doll.”
That’s all it takes for you to let go, spiraling into bliss, your entire body shaking beneath him with the force of your orgasm.
He doesn’t stop driving into you, his lips parted with his heavy breathing and needy moans rumbling out.
“Fuck doll,” he grunts, and you feel him pulse and spill inside you.
He drops forward, his hands on either side of your head as he kisses you softly.
“Should I make you come again?” he breathes, hips still rocking slowly.
You sigh out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and sinking into the mattress. After a moment, he shifts his weight, pulling out of you to lie down and curl you into his chest. Your head falls to the crook of his neck and silence settles as he skates his fingertips along the curve of your spine.
“Are you okay?” he asks, softly pressing his lips to your forehead.
“Mm hm,” you mumble out and nuzzle closer.
“Maybe you’ll think twice about teasing me when I’m on a mission.”
Your lips meet his neck. “I can’t wait to do it again.”
Summary : Bucky has a crush on you… and your knives. Who knew weapons turned him on? Inspired by this song.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her)
Warnings/tags : references to sex, cursing, reader is mentioned to be an ex villain
Warnings/tags : 1.6k
Notes : Hi all! I know I haven’t been active lately, but thankfully I have this drafted! I’ve been very very busy with work and I will try to be more active with replies and messages over the next few days. In the meantime, Enjoy!!
You had been a part of the team for six months now, and while most of them had warmed up to you, Bucky Barnes was still a tough nut to crack.
Maybe he was just introverted. But that didn’t quite explain why his eyes always followed you everywhere. That didn’t quite explain that every time you threw a knife in the training room or sharpened them in the armoury, he would look away shyly, as if you were being indecent.
Tonight, though, you weren’t thinking about Bucky’s quirks or the way his human arm flexed under his too-tight shirts. No, tonight you were focused on making an impression at the gala. Dressed in a sleek, high-slit black dress and stilettos that could kill (they had tiny blades hidden in the heels), you were ready to schmooze with diplomats and obtain important information for your new team.
When Sam told you that your next mission would be in a massive auction, you knew it was going to be a night to remember. Even if being an ex-villain turned hero hasn’t been the smoothest transition, even if fancy parties weren’t your forte, the idea of showing up with Captain America and the Winter Soldier on either side of your arm? That was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
When you walked into the gala wearing that sleek, black dress—one that hugged you in all the right places and had a slit that ran so high up your thigh it was borderline scandalous—Bucky swore under his breath.
He tried to keep his eyes on your face, to focus on anything above the shoulders, but it was borderline impossible.
It didn’t help that every time you brushed against him, he caught the faint scent of your sweet perfume, or that when you smiled at him over your shoulder, his mind drifted to places it definitely shouldn’t have.
And the knives?
God, the knives.
He didn’t even realize he had a thing for them until you came into his life, casually pulling blades from the most unexpected places. He’s been on missions with you before, and he had seen you sliding a knife out of your boot—or worse, a tiny needle-like knife out of your bra— and that sent his mind into very filthy territory very quickly.
Tonight, you were a walking temptation, and Bucky was barely holding himself together.
He knew he shouldn’t feel that way— having knives on you simply made you feel secure, it made you feel protected.
But damn if he didn’t find it hot.
—
Walking into the event flanked by Sam and Bucky felt like a power move,
—just as you expected. Sam had this easy confidence about himself, as always, and Bucky, while silent, kept his eyes on the crowd.
It was all going smoothly until you hit the metal detector.
The security guard gave you a bemused look as the scanner went off like a Fourth of July fireworks display. “Ma’am, you’ll need to remove any metal objects.”
“Oops,” you said, feigning innocence as you reached into your shoes, your belt, your sleeves, pulling out one knife after another.
"How many of those do you need?” Sam asked jokingly.
"I’m reformed, not stupid," you replied, pulling another knife from your hair.
Bucky, on the other hand, was dead silent. When you reached under the high slit of your dress and pulled out a knife strapped to your thigh—your fingers brushing the bare skin dangerously close to a place much more intimate—you heard him suck in a breath, gulping down an embarrassing amount of saliva.
You glanced over, catching the way his neck muscles rippled from the way he was grinding his teeth, his usually sky blue eyes darkening.
By the time you were done, you had a small pile of blades on the table, and the guard just waved you through.
Bucky’s voice was low when he leaned in. “You always carry this many?”
“Always.”
The rest of the gala passed in a blur, but Bucky seemed distracted all night. You thought nothing of it until later that week when you started catching him staring more often. During training, during briefings—even during team lunch.
—
It had been a week since the gala, but the sight of you pulling knives out of every conceivable place had replayed in his mind on an endless loop. The way you carried yourself that night had been enough to make him lose sleep. Add in the vivid dreams that followed? Bucky was barely holding it together.
Bucky wrapped his hands in preparation for a sparring session with a punching bag.
He tried to focus, tying the wraps tighter around his knuckles, but when the door opened and he heard the telltale sound of your boots against the mat, his entire body stood still.
“Hey, Barnes,” you called casually.
He turned, trying to keep his face neutral. As usual, you had a knife tucked into your hair, and he was too embarrassed to admit that that undid him.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“You tell me,” You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall. “You’ve been acting weird around me.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” He forced a laugh, but it sounded fake, even to his own ears.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” You accused, raising a brow and stepping closer to him. “You turn red every time I pull out a knife. And you barely said a word to me all week.”
He swallowed hard, backing up a step, but you followed. You didn’t mean to corner him, but maybe it was because old habits die hard. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a knife kink or something,” you teased, your lips curling into a joking smile.
He froze for a good five seconds, and oh.
Oh?
You blinked. “Oh my God,” you almost squeaked, “You do.”
His head shot up, his face going crimson. “I—no—I mean—” He ran a hand through his hair in a panic. “It’s not just that!”
You tilted your head, intrigued. “Come on, Barnes,” you teased, “what else could it possibly be?”
“It’s not–” he tried to deny, but his brain short circuited when your fingers ghosted along the edge of his vibranium arm.
“You’re really bad at lying, Barnes,” you murmured, subtly batting your eyelashes at him.
Wait. wait.
Were you flirting with him?
“I’m not lying,” he insisted, but you could tell he didn’t really mean it.
Your hand trailed up his arm even further, fingers tracing over the slight grooves in the vibranium. “So, you’re saying you don’t have a thing for girls who pull knives out of... interesting places?”
He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, as if he could block the effect you had on him out. “I’m not talking about this.”
“Why not?” you asked, tilting your head. “Because you’re embarrassed? Or because I’m right?”
“I—” he started, but the words got caught up in his throat. He opened his eyes, unable to take his eyes off you for too long.
“What else is it, Bucky?” you pressed. “It’s not just the knives, is it?”
He swallowed hard. “It’s you,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just... you.”
For a moment, you stared at him, stunned.
This just became very interesting. “Oh.”
He looked at you, panicked. “Don’t—”
“Don’t what?” you interrupted playfully, backing up just a tad bit to give him some space. “Don’t tease you? Or don’t mention the fact that I have a thing for you, too?”
His breath hitched. “What?” he croaked out, not quite believing what he’s hearing.
“You’re not bad to look at, Barnes,” you shrugged. “And that metal arm of yours? Oh, the filthy things I’d let you do to me.”
The noise that escaped him was somewhere between a groan and a growl, and you didn’t miss the way his hands twitched at his sides.
“We could do each other a favour,” you suggested casually, trailing your hand on his heaving chest, heart beating a million miles an hour and breathing laboured.
“You’re not serious.”
“Deadly,” you said, “Unless, of course, you’re not interested.”
His hand shot out before you could pull away, gripping your wrist— not hard. Only firm enough to keep you in place.
“Don’t do that,” he warned.
“Do what?” you asked innocently, stepping closer again, your chest brushing his.
“Tease me,” he growled, his grip tightening slightly.
You smiled, tilting your head. “But I’m enjoying this too much, James.”
That was it.
Before you could react, Bucky’s hands were on your waist, and without any warning, he threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.
“Bucky!” you gasped, laughing as you struggled half-heartedly. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you to my car,” he said. “We’re going to my place. Now.”
Your laughter turned into a hum of approval, but before you could say anything, the door opened and Sam walked in, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of you slung over Bucky’s shoulder.
“What the hell is this?” Sam asked, his brow furrowing.
Without missing a beat, Bucky looked over his shoulder and said bluntly, “We’re fucking.”
Sam blinked. “Oh. Okay,” you could tell he was still struggling to process all of this. “Have fun, I guess.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, waving a playful goodbye to Sam.
Summary: You agreed to one night, but Bucky has other plans, making it clear he’s going to keep you—and he wants you carrying his baby.
Pairings : Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Note : non-consensual behavior, forced pregnancy
The air in the room is heavy, thick with unspoken tension. Bucky stands in the doorway, his massive frame dominating the space, eyes dark and predatory. He’s watching you, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. It’s unsettling how calm he is, like he’s got all the time in the world. Like he knows exactly how this is going to play out.
“Why you standin’ over there like you got a choice, doll?” His voice is low, gravelly, and it hits you straight in the chest. “C’mere.”
You hesitate, trying to remember the rules you both set. One night. That’s it. But the look in his eyes says different. There’s no way you’re walking out of here without something much heavier hanging over you—without him making sure his mark on you is permanent.
“I said, come here,” Bucky’s tone darkens, a rough edge creeping in, and your body reacts before your brain does, your feet moving toward him. His metal arm reaches out, pulling you flush against his chest, and fuck, the heat coming off him makes your pulse race.
“I’m not letting you go, y’know that, right?” His breath is hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “This ain’t some casual thing. You’re mine. And I’m gonna make sure you know it.”
His hand slides down your back, rough fingertips brushing against the bare skin under your shirt, making you shiver. He smirks when he feels it, gripping your waist harder, like he owns every inch of you. In his mind, he does.
“Bucky,” you whisper, your voice trembling.
“Shh,” he growls, his lips brushing against your neck. “I’m gonna take my time with you. Make sure it sticks this time. You’re not walkin’ outta here without somethin’ of mine.”
You can feel the power in his body as he presses against you, the steel in his grip, and the raw desire pouring off him in waves. You try to push back, but his grip tightens, his metal hand circling around your throat—enough to hurt, enough to remind you who’s in charge.
“You agreed to one night,” he whispers, lips dragging over your skin, teasing. “But I’m not a man of half-measures, sweetheart. You’re not leaving here until I’ve put a baby in you. Until I know I’ve claimed you for good.”
Your heart pounds, his words sinking deep into your bones.
“You... you don’t have to—” you start, but he cuts you off with a dark chuckle.
“Don’t gotta do a damn thing. But I want to.” His lips curl into a smirk, and he lifts you off the ground like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the bed. The room spins for a second, and then you’re beneath him, pinned by his weight, his hands already working to pull your clothes off, rough and demanding.
His lips crash into yours, claiming, devouring, and you can’t help but moan into the kiss as his tongue pushes past your lips. His hands grip the waistband of your jeans, yanking them down without a care, shredding any barriers between you.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” he growls, running his hands over your now-bare thighs, squeezing, as if memorizing the shape of you. “Gonna ruin you, doll. Gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to.”
You’re panting, barely able to think straight as his mouth trails down your body, his breath hot against your skin. His metal arm holds you in place, cold against the burning heat coursing through you, while his other hand grips your thighs, spreading them apart like it’s his goddamn right.
“You like this, don’t you?” he teases, voice dripping with that rough, dominant tone. “You like the way I fuckin’ own you.”
His fingers tease you for only a second before he thrusts them inside, rough and unrelenting, stretching you out in a way that makes you arch your back, a cry ripping from your throat.
“Bucky!”
“That’s right, baby,” he smirks, his fingers working faster, deeper, curling inside you just to hear you scream again. “You’re fuckin’ mine.”
He pulls his fingers out and replaces them with himself, pushing into you with a rough, demanding thrust that has you seeing stars. Every muscle in his body is taut, coiled with tension, and you can feel how fucking hungry he is for you. The pace is slow at first, teasing, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he loses control.
“You think I’m gonna let you go after this?” he growls, his hips snapping against yours, hard and rough. “Nah, baby. You’re stuck with me. Gonna fill you up until you’re pregnant. You’re gonna carry my kid, and I’m gonna make sure of it.”
His words send a fresh wave of heat crashing through you, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips, the way your body responds to his every move. He’s relentless, his pace brutal, pounding into you like it’s the only thing that matters, and in this moment, it is.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice raw with desire. “So tight. You’re gonna take every fuckin’ inch of me, and you’re gonna thank me when I’m done.”
You can barely breathe, barely think as he keeps thrusting into you, harder, deeper, making sure you feel every inch of him. He leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear.
“I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna make you mine in every fuckin’ way. You’re gonna carry my kid, and you’re gonna love every second of it.”
You can feel yourself unraveling beneath him, your body tightening around him as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock. Let me feel you fall apart.”
You shatter beneath him, your body convulsing as pleasure crashes over you like a wave, and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. He just keeps fucking you, riding you through your orgasm, determined to make this last.
When he finally lets go, he slams into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you, and you can feel the hot rush of his release as he fills you.
“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice rough and breathless. “Now you’re mine. And you’re not going anywhere.”
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