Trash And Sass

Avengers ~ Imagines 🔥You will mainly find Avenger stuff over here *96

[wkemeup]

Play Pretend

summary: When Bucky is injected with a substance that leaves him desperate for release, you offer your help. pairing: bucky x reader word count: 7.8k warnings: smut (18+), sex pollen (with as much consent as one can have in a dub/con trope)

“What in the—” you slammed an elbow to the nose of the assailant behind you, “holy,” a quick right jab to another coming up on your left, “godforsaken,” a knee plunged straight to your ribs and you kicked to the assailant who managed to get one up on you, “hell, Rogers!”

Another body fell to the ground and settled at the collection at your feet.

Dripping in sweat, heart pounding in your chest, and your body short of giving out completely, you slumped a shoulder against the cold frame of the wall. Down the hall, at least a dozen more Hydra agents were barreling towards you.

There was no response on the coms; not that you expected as much. The Hydra base in Munich you were tasked with rigging to blow was meant to be abandoned. Nothing left but a dozen empty cells and decades of barbaric research no one should ever lay eyes on again.

Seemed Captain Roger’s intel was just slightly off. Tell that to the series of bodies lying in your wake.

“You better send backup, Rogers, or I swear to God I’ll haunt your star-spangled ass for all eternity,” you grumbled to the broken transmission as you attempted to square up. Fists out ahead of you, swaying slightly on weakened legs, a dizziness in your vision making it hard to tell exactly how many men were charging straight at you.

“What? I’m not enough for you?” Bucky suddenly appeared on your right, chuckling to himself as he released the empty magazine from his weapon and quickly replaced it with a new one. Blood was soaked into his hair line, mixing with the sweat beaded on his forehead, and he brushed the back of his hand against his face to smear it back into his hair.

“About time you showed up. Making me do all the hard work myself,” you scoffed, shooting him a teasing smile as you eyed the hallway he came rushing in from.

He insisted you’d be out in time for movie night back home if the two of you split up, divided the C4 amongst you and met back at the quinjet in twenty. Not even his super soldier instincts could have predicted this place would be overrun with stray Hydra agents looking for a rematch.

One of the agents opposing you whipped out a handgun and Bucky jumped forward, using his left arm as a shield. The bullets ricocheted across the room, puncturing into another Hydra agent who collapsed to the ground clutching his knee.

You exhaled a heavy breath, the edges of your lips dipping down into a frown as you watched more agents stepping over the bodies of their colleagues and advancing down the hallway. You glanced up at Bucky, watching as he weighed the rifle in his hands, bouncing it lightly. It was running low on ammo.

“You get anyone on coms yet?”

“Nothing. We’re on our own.” Bucky gritted his teeth, firing a few rounds down at the mass of Hydra agents swarming their way towards you. It knocked a few of them down, at least.

You started to take a few steps in their direction, yanking a knife from the spine of an agent on the ground before you whipped it down at the ones ahead of you, knocking another to the ground. The echo of gunfire tore through the cramped hall again and it left a pile of men at the front lines.

Four left.

“That was my last round,” Bucky grunted, tossing the weapon to the floor as he tugged a small blade from the holster on his thigh. He smirked as he glanced over at you through the corner of his eye. “Who do you want?”

You shrugged, studying the four agents who came to a slow halt at the opposite end of the hallway. The two on the left looked about as you’d expected from Hydra agents; tall, dark haired, with shoulders twice as wide as their hips and a vicious kind of look in their eyes. Then, a blonde-haired woman who couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from Bucky, a hand resting impatiently on the knife against her hip. Last, a man who towered at least two feet above the others with a long, jagged scar covering most of his face.

“I’ll take the two on the right.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, glancing between you and your chosen assailants. The taller one cracked his neck to the side and bared his teeth.

“You’re sure?”

You feigned offense; a hand pressed your heart as you took a few steps forward, sliding the batons out from the holsters along your shoulder blades and twirling them between your fingers. “You underestimate me, Barnes. You think I’d let you have all the fun?”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head as he jogged to catch up with you, disregarding the battle cries of the Hydra agents as they advanced as if it was only ever the two of you in the room. “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart.”

The blonde woman stared to advance on Bucky, eyes trailing him up from his boots to the top of his head with a devilish kind of look in her stare. She licked at her lips hungrily, as if she was ready to take a bite into him, though he paid her no mind as he rushed at the two men to her right.

“Hey, Barbie!” you called, waving a baton in the air to grab her attention. “Looks like your stuck with me.”

She glared at you, pausing in her strut for only a minute, but it was all you needed. You sprinted towards her, using the wall as leverage as you jumped up against the frame to propel yourself into her. Baton at ready, you slammed down into her collarbone as she let out a yelp and fell down to the ground. It didn’t take her long to get back on her feet and when she did, her knife was nestled tight into her grip, a new kind of intrigue on her face as she stared you down.

“Need any help over here?” Bucky called out from the end of the hallway as he ducked under the right hook of one of his assailants. He clipped one in the knees, sending them spiraling to the floor with a pained shout, before he smirked over in your direction.

“Mind your business, Barnes!” You rolled your eyes as a smile crept up against your lips.

Barbie took a single glance back at Bucky before her eyes returned to you and there was something darker within her stare you didn’t quite notice, or perhaps you simply mistook it for enemy territory. Either way, when she raised her arm with knife in hand, you whipped around the baton in a backhanded strike, sending the knife flying down the hall. Unarmed, she stared at you with wide, fearful eyes, until you knocked her out with a final hit to the side of her. Nothing fatal, but it would keep her under until backup arrived to hull her in.

Bucky was still fighting off his second attacker as you approached the man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, patiently waiting. He pushed himself off the wall, cracked his knuckles between his palms with sharp snaps that echoed down into the hallway.

“Think you can take me, little girl?” he taunted, voice low and thick, like it had gone years in disuse. He made a show of the way he settled into his stance; fists held out in front of him, shadow boxing in an attempt to intimidate you. It seemed to catch him off guard when you rolled your eyes.

“It’s been a long day,” you shrugged, “and frankly, I’d like to go home. So, let’s make this quick.”

The arrogant smirk dropped from his face, replaced quickly with a wash of rage that a woman half his size would dare mock him in such a way. But he was clumsy in his stance and in his swings, so you saw each of his moves coming a mile ahead. With every right hook, you slid under his arm and stepped out behind him. In every jab, you side stepped out of reach. He exhausted himself while you made little effort in your defense. Without a single offensive throw, he was panting in a matter of minutes.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he bellowed, loud enough to make Bucky pause for a moment and you winced as his assailant took advantage of the moment to get in a punch to his jawline. He recovered quickly, giving you the security to face your own attacker head on. The Hydra giant was dripping in sweat, red in the face, teeth bared and near feral. “Fight me!”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

As he threw his next swing, you met it with the brunt of your baton, stilling him in his stance. He stared at you, wide eyes and jaw slacked, as you winked at him and dove under his legs. Before he could manage to turn around, you flicked at switch at the bottom of the batons which emitted an electrical pulse from the top edge and plunged it into the man's neck.

He convulsed, gargling out a few incoherent words, before he collapsed to the floor at your feet. You grinned, sliding the batons into the holsters at your shoulder blades.

“Alright, I take it all back,” Bucky’s voice chuckled from behind you. “You don’t need me at all.”

You laughed, shaking your head as several strands fell down into your face, lost to the bun at the top of your head in the struggle. As you turned to face Bucky, you found him standing with his hands planted on his hips and the brightest smile on his face, one that took him years to find again since you first met him and damn if it wasn’t one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen.

But then, there was a sudden rush of movement on the ground. One of the Hydra agents wrestled back up to his feet behind Bucky, a malice imbedded deep into his glare, a determination as he rushed forward.

There was little time to think as you lunged for the knife you broke free of the blonde agent’s hand and whipped it across the room. It plunged straight into the man’s jugular and he fell backwards, hands sliding out from around Bucky’s neck as blood coated the tile floors.

“Shit,” you panted, hands on your knees. “You okay?”

Bucky didn’t respond.

Slowly, heart pounding in your chest, you glanced up to find him pulling a syringe from his neck. He stared at it for a second, stunned as a few stray droplets dripped from the edge of the needle before he dropped it to the ground, letting it slip out from his fingers limply. The vile was empty as it rolled along the tile and settled against the dead body of its owner.

“Bucky?”

There was a sudden, paralyzing dread that swept over his features, one that seemed to worsen as his eyes fell upon yours. Then, his knees started to buckle, his stance falling unsteady and you rushed forward, darting under his arm to catch him before could lay amongst the bodies of Hydra agents. He was shaking, hands trembling, and you could feel the sharp rise and fall of his breath as you held him steady.

“We have to get you out of here,” you said, trying to push down the panic etching its way up your spine, but Bucky shook his head.

“No time.” It was all he could mutter out.

“Bucky, you've just been injected with God knows what and we need to get to you a medic or—”

“There,” he grunted, pointed to an open room at the end of the hallway. With a thick, metal door and dozen locks lining the outside, it was more of a cell than a room. You started to shake your head, but Bucky gripped tight to your arm. “Y/n, please.”

You watched him carefully, noticed how he couldn’t seem to meet your eye, how sweat was beading at his hairline more profusely than it was in the midst of a battle, how his breaths were broken and trembling on every exhale.

“Okay, okay. Hold on.” You slowly guided him to step over the bodies at your feet, most unconscious, others not as lucky, and swiftly led him into the cell. It seemed to put him at ease as you aided him to sit on one of the metal chairs at the center of the room. As you released your touch from his arm, a rush of what appeared to be pain twisted into his facial features though he tried to hide it.

“So, what do we do now?” you asked. “I could try to find the lab. They could have counteractants to whatever this is. Or I could try to fix the coms... but we all know Parker’s a lot better with that stuff than I am.”

You laughed, trying to ease the tension in the room, but it was so thick you could have cut through it with the blunt edge of your baton. Bucky’s eyes were glued to the floor, his hands curling around the undersides of the chair until the metal warped under his grip.

“You need to leave.”

Your smile dropped. “What? No, are you crazy? I’m not leaving you alone after—”

“Go!” His voice boomed against the walls and you tried not to let the shock startle you.

“Bucky, stop. That’s not happening.” You dug your fingers into your hips as you paced back over the door, stole a quick glance in both directions. It was still empty save for the bodies lying in your wake. It seemed you and Bucky were entirely alone. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “We’ll figure something out, okay? We always do. This can’t be worse than the time we were buried in that old chevy under twelve feet of snow in Alaska last year, can it?”

You shot him a grin, hoping to ease him, though it did little use. His face was red, jaw stoned. He looked like he was barely breathing.

“You’re not hearing me,” Bucky groaned, his voice molding into something darker. “You're not safe here. You need to leave. Now. Before I... Before I can’t control this. Before I hurt you.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes. “What are you talking about? Do you… Do you know what that stuff was?”

Bucky clenched his jaw, turning away from you the best he could. He let out a pained groan and kicked the chair out from under him. It slammed against the wall with a harsh clash and forced a skip in your heartbeat, a hand darting up to your chest. Bucky leaned over the table, trying to find support, but he ended up gripping onto the sides hard enough to dent imprints in the shape of his hands.

You rushed forward, desperate to help because you couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain, and placed a hand on his shoulder. It touched upon the thick straps of Kevlar for only a second, and still, it was enough to elicit a visceral reaction. He whined, something between a moan and cry, and he slumped down out of your reach.

“Don’t touch me,” Bucky warned, though his voice broke in the effort. His breaths were labored and heavy, and still it seemed as though he could barely get one in. “Please. You—You have to get away from me. I’m— I’m begging you.”

Bucky choked back a cry, biting down hard on his lower lip, and it was then you noticed his right hand palming at the hardened outline nestled tight against his thigh. He pressed the heel of his left into his eyes, shame burning hot against his ears and cheeks and trailing down in red patches along his neck. He tried to hide behind his hair, hide from you, but it was enough; you recognized what this was.

It was a serum created by Hydra in the seventies, meant to create inhumans of their own design when the clinical measures were proving unsuccessful. It was created to induce a euphoric state, a primal need beyond personal control, to put its host through hell until Hydra had what it wanted: a viable chance at an inhuman child.

“Bucky,” you called gently, though all you earned was a whimpered grunt in response. Slowly, you crossed the plane of the room to him and laid a hand against his collar. His eyes fluttered shut in response, his whole body keenly alert to every touch.

“You should leave,” he warned again, his gaze slowly drawing up to meet your own; a glossy shine shielded over a stunning ocean blue. “Let me... let me take care of this on my own. I’ll be f-fine.”

“It’ll be agonizing,” you told him, having remembered the speech Tony gave a few months back after the team first encountered the serum in Peru. “It won’t kill you, but it will feel pretty damn close. Nothing you do on your own will relieve it. It doesn't work like that. You need someone to help you through this.”

He shook his head. “No. I won’t-- I won’t ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to,” you replied gingerly, drawing your hand up along his arm, tracing over swells of muscle as watching the way a shiver followed so tenderly in your wave. You rested your hand along his cheek, brushing your thumb under his eyes. He was scorching hot. You smiled at him, something soft and gentle, something sad. “I’m offering, Bucky.”

“No,” he grunted out. “I—I can’t. I won’t.”

You nodded, letting your hand fall to the side. It was remarkable he was able to hold himself back this long, let alone decline an offer when presented to him. You’d heard the stories of men to devolved to a near primal state, who attempted to jump the first person they saw and fought their way to release. Bucky was determined to spare you, even as you offered, even knowing that turning you down would put him through a world of pain.

“Okay,” you conceded. “Tell me what you need. Tell me something I can do, Buck, because I can’t just watch you in pain like this.”

Bucky stared at you, pupils blown wide, almost as if he could see right through you.

“Need to get this off,” he finally admitted, eyes drifting down to his suit.

“Okay,” you replied steadily. “Do you want help?”

He shook his head, his stare glued to the floor, but you could see the way his hands were reaching out for you, how he had to keep himself in check and hold them firmly at his sides. He tried to unfasten the buckle at his chest himself, but within seconds he let out a hallowed cry, dropping his head in defeat.

“Hurts,” he exhaled, and slowly his eyes came back up to yours. He forced out a halfhearted smile the best he could. “Can you...?”

You returned the nervous smile, as you took a cautious step forward. He followed your every move as your hands extended towards his chest, fingers clipping the buckles easily as they unsnapped down his jacket. Each one left a new breath of relief in its wake, like he was just on the edge of the surface, under only a few inches of water.

Your hands slid under the seams, helping to slip the sleeve down his right arm, and Bucky choked back a moan. His eyes fluttered shut, lips parted just slightly, and you jumped back.

“Sorry,” he muttered. His cheeks were near on fire.

“It’s alright, Buck. It’s not your fault.” You reached out for him again. “Here, let me help with your belt.”

“No, no, I’ve got it.” His hands were shaking as he started to fidget with the buckle. He swayed on his feet, trying to find some relief. As he unfastened the latch and unbuttoned the hem of his pants, his eyes flashed up to you. He exhaled a heavy breath. “Can you... Christ... can you turn around?”

The look on his face, the shame radiating from every ounce of him, shattered you right to your core. You nodded quickly, turning your back to him and making your way to the door. He needed privacy – of course, he did. He didn’t need you around to bear witness to the consequences of Hydra’s newest attempt to leave him powerless and vulnerable.

But just as you approached the door, Bucky called out quietly, “don’t go.”

You stilled in an instant, though you didn’t dare to turn around.

“It, um,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I think it helps if you’re here. If that’s alright.”

“Need something to look at, huh?” you laughed, trying to make light of the impossible position he was in, and you were thankful for the short chuckle you heard behind you.

“Don’t flatter yourself, doll. You’re the only one here,” he replied, a teasing back in his tone, and no matter how tense it was or how forced it felt, it made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled, shaking your head. Leave it to the two of you to find the humor in a situation like this. Biting down on your lip, you tried to suppress the grin, though it did little use.

Then, you heard the soft fall of his shirt to the floor. Quickly followed by the pants of his suit, dropping to the ground in a heap. He exhaled a breath that sounded as though he hadn’t done so in years and you found yourself wondering what he looked like standing there behind you, naked and aching, harder than he’d ever been in his life.

“Swear you won’t tell Sam about this.”

You shook your head, chewing on the inside of your cheek to hold back another laugh. “No promises.”

“Y/n.”

“You’ve got to be in crippling pain, Buck. You don’t have time to be embarrassed right now,” you shot back teasingly. “Stop edging.”

“Fine, okay,” he grumbled back, though you could hear the light in his voice, even if it was a little tense. “Just… give me a second.”

The room became impossibly quiet, painfully so, and you waited under bated breath for something to happen. The smile slowly left your lips, fading into a restless frown as you listened intently to his labored breathing, the tight groans of pain, until finally, his hand circled around the base of his cock.

The whine that left his lips was near sinful, and you felt your own breath hitch in your chest as you listened to soft whimpers parting his lips as he stroked himself, covering his length in the precum dropping at his tip. Heavy breaths and wet pumps of his closed hand around his cock, and you clenched your thighs together, wondering how his eyes might travel over your frame.

But God – those sounds he made were beautiful. You could picture him tugging his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes fluttering shut, his shoulders slacking, knees falling a little weak the harder he gripped at himself. Little murmurs of ‘oh god,’ and ‘fuck yes,’ and ‘please’ as he fucked his fist.

You didn’t know how much time had passed by, but your lip was nearly chewed raw, nails indented into the palms of your hands. You could hear how close he was, how his movements picked up in pace, how his breaths labored, how his moans filled the room higher and higher until – it stopped.

Sudden and aching, he lost it before the fall and your heart broke as you heard him cry out in pain.

“Bucky?” you called softly, not daring to turn around to face him after he asked you not to. Your heart was pounding in your chest, hands clenched tight, and you swore your knees would buckle out from under you if you unlocked them for even a second.

“Fuck, I… I can’t...”

“Bucky, are you okay?” you tried again, worried. There was a panic in his voice that wasn’t there before, a desperate longing etched into every syllable, and it scared you.

“I can smell you,” he said simply, achingly.

Your breath hitched and you squeezed your legs together. There was a throbbing there, an emptiness you couldn’t quite shake. “Do you... Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” he replied quickly and you could tell he was contemplating his options. He was growing desperate and that lingering sense of control he maintained was slipping through his fingers. “No, I— You were right. I can’t do it on my own. I need—fuck. I need…”

“Just ask,” you offered again, head tilting just enough to the side that he could see your face but you kept your stare to the wall. “I’m here. I’m saying yes. Just tell me what you need.”

“You.”

It surprised you as he said it; a little lower, a little darker, but certain.

Slowly, you turned to face him.

Sculpted by Michelangelo himself, Bucky carried the most beautiful lines across his body; divots along muscles and carvings of delicate design. You could tell he expected your eyes to fall straight to his shoulder, to the mess of scars and metal he loathed, or to the vulnerability standing hard in his grasp, but instead, you kept your gaze focused on his eyes.

Bucky stood completely naked before you, his right hand still pumping slowly around his cock as you edged forward. He watched you, biting at his lip as he flicked his thumb over his tip. Eyes trailed down over your frame greedily, hungrily, as if the act of simply looking was enough to draw a twitch from his cock. He tugged his lip between his teeth, tightening his grip around himself.

As you came up beside him, you reached up and sat your hand against his right shoulder, watching how he closed his eyes in response, how his jaw slacked. His lazy thrusts evened out, slowing down, as you traced your hand down his arm, simply lost in your touch. Your hand slid down his bicep, over raised muscle, along his forearm to his wrist, and then, you gently nudged his hand from his cock and replaced it with your own.

His lips fell open, a slight tremble in his breath as you gripped him. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, leaning against you as he caged you to what appeared to be an interrogation table. You felt the warped metal against your thighs from where he’d clutched at it just moments earlier.

Steadily, you began to pump him in your hand, careful to spread the wet of his precum down his shaft. He was hard within your grasp, painfully so, enough that you could feel the crystal outline of a vein running up along the underside. You pressed your thumb against it as you slid your hand up to his tip and brushed it over his slit. The whine he released against your neck was the most beautiful sound you ever heard.

“This okay?”

“S’good.” He nodded meekly against your collar but you could feel the strain in his shoulders, the restraint that left his jaw wired shut and breaths tight.

“It’s not enough, though. Is it?” you asked gently, though you knew the answer. You knew what he needed and your hand, or even your mouth, would not be enough. The Hydra scientists knew what they were doing when they designed this. It had a very specific purpose and it would not yield for anything less.

“You don’t have to, Y/n,” he said, stronger than you’d heard his voice since he was injected. It took nearly all his strength.

You smiled, letting your free hand cup at the side of his face. He leaned into the touch, seeking more, almost instinctively. Bucky was a complicated man; capable of light-hearted jokes in the middle of a warzone and an immeasurable guilt and shame that had not left him in his years since he was freed from Hydra. He was your closest friend, your partner in the field, a man that you trusted above all others, a man you cared for in ways he would never quite understand.

“I’m here, Bucky. I’ve got you,” you whispered sweetly, but you could still feel his hesitance. “Listen to me, I’ll leave if you really want me to. I’ll stop if this isn’t what you want. But please, don’t send me away and leave you suffer through this alone because you think I don’t want you. I do, Buck. I want you. I want to make you feel good. I want to take away your pain. Let me.”

He stared at you for a moment, a strange mixture of disbelief and longing upon his features. Slowly his hands lifted from the table and felt for the clasp at the back of your suit. You nodded at him, and slid the zipper down your spine, exposing perfect, untouched skin. He pealed it down along your shoulders, over your chest and down your waist. You helped him remove it down to your feet and kicked it off to the floor beside his own.

His eyes drifted to your chest, hands itching to reach out, but he held them firm at his sides.

“It’s okay, Buck. You can touch me,” you told him, reaching behind your back and releasing the clasp of your bra. The straps fell down your shoulders and you let the fabric slip from you. Bucky swallowed, his eyes drifting to your exposed chest. A smile started to curve upon your lips the longer he stared at you, like you were something to revere.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured quietly, almost to himself, as if saying it purely for the state of fact.

Your heart skipped a beat, lips parting in a slight shock, and you wondered if this was what it was like for the women he brought home on cold, lonely nights from the bar. You’d seen the content smiles on their faces in the morning as they sauntered out of his room with messy hair and a blissful kind of look in their eyes.

Bucky wasn’t the cold, calculating man the papers made him out to be. He was kind, exceptionally sweet, and a selfless to a fault. You didn’t suspect he was any different in a bedroom.

He shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I never thought this would be how—"

But then— his face started to contort and suddenly Bucky was keening over. He clutched at his stomach, digging his nails deep into the muscle and he nearly collapsed to his knees.

“Bucky!”

You grabbed a firm hold of his right arm, just enough to keep him steady, and even the smallest of touches alone seemed to ignite something in him. Goosebumps littered his skin and a sweet kind of whine escaped past his lips as you ran a hand soothingly along his spine.

“Come on, we don’t have a lot of time,” you warned gently. It was a miracle within itself he was still on his feet. This serum had put ordinary men into shock within minutes if they didn’t find release. Never enough to kill them, but just enough to make them wish it would.

Bucky followed you back to the table at the center of the room, his hand clasped tightly in your own. It was the most physical affection you’d shown for one another, a tenderness outside of the rush of foreign chemicals in his veins, and you tried not to think about the fallout you were bound to find after.

He helped to guide you onto the table, resting your back against the cool, metal surface. Then, slowly, he crawled on top of you. His eyes drifted down to your panties and you lifted your hips for him, giving him the permission he needed to pull them down your legs.

His hand slid down along your curves, drawing goosebumps in his wake, until he swiftly slid his fingers between your thighs. Dipping into the wetness at your core, he spread his fingers around, lubricating himself until he slid two easily inside of you.

“Oh, Bucky,” you moaned, back arching as he pumped them against your walls. “God, that feels—so good.”

His left hand was curled tightly into a fist near you head as he propped his body weight up against the arm; gears whirring, the scars at the base of his shoulder red in the strain of it. One quick glance at the tension coating his muscles, the sharp breaths in his chest, the whine as his cock touched your thigh, and you were pulled swiftly from the clouds, a startling reminder why you were doing this in the first place.

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” you told him, a little breathless as he added the third finger. “I’m fine, Buck. You need to come. This isn’t about me.”

He shook his head, determined. “You’re not ready yet.”

You chuckled, a heat of embarrassment washing over you, even as he scissored his fingers, stretching your walls. You had to choke back a moan and the urge to clamp your thighs together around his wrist.

“I’m more than ready,” you said, voice a little higher, hands clenching at the sides of the table as you felt your walls tightening around his fingers. “Trust me, Buck. Just listening to you touch yourself was enough.”

You laughed again but the room was thick in tension, almost unbearably so. Bucky could hardly hear you. His hair had fallen down to shield his face, his gaze focused on where his fingers were lost to the most intimate parts of you; determined.

“It has to be good for you,” he muttered out slowly. You narrowed your eyes on him, growing worried as he seemed to retreat within himself. He was distant, his mind far away from his body. “It has to be good… it has to be good for you otherwise… otherwise I’m… I’m...”

He wouldn’t say it but you knew what he meant.

“Bucky, come back to me.” You reach up and grabbed a firm hold of his cheeks, thumbs at his jawline, and drew his attention to your eyes. It took him a moment to get there, but you found ocean blue again, even if it was clouded in dark, stormy skies. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about how I feel, alright? Just do what you need to, I’ll be fi—”

“I won’t use you like that!” Bucky snapped defiantly, startling you. “I don’t care that it feels like my skin is on fire and there’s knives carving through my body. I don’t care that I feel like I’m going to pass out and everything in me is fighting to force my way onto you and take what I want regardless of what it does to you! I don’t care! You’re my best friend and I… I…” He was panting, red in the face, and he couldn’t seem to find his words. He swallowed, though it looked as though it burned. “It has to be good for you, okay?”

You nodded, running your hands gently along his arms; his left, solid metal, unwavering, and his right trembled deep within the tissue – the gentle movements of his forearm pressed up against your stomach, his fingers searching out a pleasure he so desperately needed you to feel.

“I…” he started before he clenched his jaw. A heavy exhale followed, a drop of his gaze, and he muttered out weakly, “I need to pretend this is real.”

Your lips parted in shock; heart stammering so painful in your chest you wondered if he could hear it. Before you could say anything, before you could ask him what he meant by that, Bucky let his fingers slip out from between your legs, resting slicked against your thigh. The emptiness was startling.

“I think you’re ready for me now.”

Bucky nestled himself between your legs, lined his length your entrance with a gentle sweep of his top through your folds. He shivered, something near violent as it shook through his spine, and you were reminded again that Bucky was suffering, that he had a foreign chemical in his veins that ripped away his control and left him powerless to Hydra.

His skin was flushed red, sweat beading on his forehead and down his neck. There were sharp marks in the palm of his right hand where he dug his own nails into his skin. His breaths were coming in quickly and uneven.

“Look at me,” you ordered, stern enough to draw his attention. “Don’t hold back. You need to get this out, okay? I will tell you if it’s too much.”

It took him a moment, a breath of contemplation, before he nodded; slow and hesitant. You could see the strain in his jawline, the tension in his shoulders from how much he was restraining himself. It must have been agonizing, but Bucky had been through worse in his life. You supposed pain had become a familiar friend, one he learned to tame and control, even when it ripped him apart.

The moment he pressed his tip past your entrance, as he bottomed out in one thrust, as he felt your walls squeeze tightly around him for the first time, Bucky nearly came on the spot. He gasped into your shoulder, sucking marks against your skin as he rolled his hips against you. Slow and steady at first, reveling in the feel of being consumed whole, of being taken so well, of a rush of endorphins and pleasure he’d never felt even in the peak of sex. Everything was heightened, every touch was immaculate; he could feel your heartbeat through the walls squeezing at his cock.

“Oh, f-fuck,” he moaned against your ear, breath hot, voice dangerously low. “Fuck you feel so good, sweetheart. So fucking good. Goddamn perfect.”

You nodded, arms circling up around his shoulders as you rolled your hips to meet his own. You could still feel the stone carved tension in his muscle, how much he was holding back from what he needed. He was trying to be gentle with you, loving in a way the serum was not designed for, but it was testing him. He wouldn’t give into it, not in the way you asked him to, because Bucky had already lost so much to Hydra, already lost pieces of his mind and body, he would not let them take his soul, too.

“Just for you.” The words passed through your lips before you could quite catch onto their meaning. Your hands slipped down his chest as you brushed your thumbs against his nipples. He moaned, hips picking up in pace. He needed the encouragement, you realized. It was the only way he’d allow himself the release he needed to free his body of that serum.

He needed to pretend it was real.

He needed to pretend that you weren’t laying upon a cold, unforgiving table in an old Hydra base, that maybe this was something more than the consequences of a vile he didn’t ask for.

The line between the fantasy and reality was painfully thin.

“F-fuck, you’re so tight,” he mumbled breathily. The table began to squeak with every snap of his hips, with every drag of his cock at your core, the brush of his tip to the sweetest spot. It was easy to lose yourself in him, to forget that you were in an abandoned Hydra cell, that he had a foreign chemical in his veins determined to destroy him. He felt like heaven.

“S’all yours,” you whispered, drawing your hands down along his waist, slipping over his hips and gripping into the soft flesh of his ass. You pulled him deeper into you, daring him to go further. His pupils were blown so wide, you could barely see the blue in his eyes. He was slipping, barely holding into the restraint he so desperately clung to, and you rolled your hips at just the right angle, squeezed him enough to draw a mangled cry from his lips.

You kissed at the dip of his collar, sucking sweetly as he all but purred in response. Your lips mapped a path up his neck, along his jaw line, over cheekbones and at the tip of his nose, until you paused at his mouth. His heart was pounding, thunderous in his chest, and his hips seemed to pick up in pace with every kiss.

It wasn’t until you captured his lips against your own that Bucky lost the last ounce of control he had been clinging onto.

Something like a growl purred against your lips, a sound near feral, and the gentle push of his hips like ocean waves against you turned into quick, harsh snaps. He pulled his lips from you, trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck, until he found the place he was looking for and sunk his teeth to the crook of your shoulder.

“Ah, Bucky!”

All consuming. Feverish. A man untamed and he did not relent, not as your walls tightened around him like the twist of a coil, or as the sound of skin and wetness between your legs echoed high into the room, or when his fingers touched at your clit and rubbed harsh, quick and pressured circles until you were crying out so loudly, it must have carried through the whole base.

“Fuck! Ah, God, Bucky, don’t stop!”

Bucky groaned against you, sucking a mark where his teeth had met your flesh. You could feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, the pulse of his cock in your cunt, the thick vein that ran along his underside as it added so sweetly to the pressure at your entrance. It was wild and unhinged, but God – it was good.

“Y-yeah, baby, right there,” Bucky moaned, his thrusts falling uneven, haphazard, needy. “F-fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna—ah, ah, f-fuck—”

The heat of him, the way he filled you so perfectly, the rush, and it pushed you over the edge. White hot and intoxicating, the wash of it broke open in floodgates and swept through you. His fingers did not let up on your clit as you squirmed and withered below him, his thrusts falling lazy as he chased the end of his release.

Breathless and a little dizzy as you came down from your high, you felt his heartbeat inside of you; quick, but even. The serum had done its work. It released him from its hold.

Bucky was panting, the full of his weight having fallen onto you. His hair was wet with sweat, messy and untamed, and the room smelled distinctly of sex. But more than that, it was unbearably silent.

Slowly, Bucky began to pry himself off of you, allowing his softened cock to slip from between your legs, slick and satisfied. He swallowed, a blush creeping onto his cheek as he pushed his hair behind his ear.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You chuckled, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him quickly tug his pants back on before he bent down and picked up your suit for you, handing it gingerly to you upon the table with a shy sort of smile.

“Alright? I’m great.” You grinned over at him, glowing in the aftermath of your release. “You feel okay now?”

He nodded, a nervous smile tugging on his lips as he watched you jump down from the table and step into your suit. His eyes must have lingered on your thighs where his cum was still slick along the skin from his release because his smile began to fall, his jaw tightly clenched.

“SHEILD has me on birth control, Buck. Don’t worry about that,” you told him softly. You tugged the sleeves back up your arms, though it proved difficult with the lingering sweat on your skin. You flipped your hair over your shoulder and turned your back to him. “Do you mind?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffling forward to zip up the back of your suit. He brushed a few stray strands of hair over your shoulder, the gentle sweep of cool metal a relief against the hot flush of your skin; impossibly tender for a man capable of the things he was.

“So,” he started, a nervous chuckle in his voice as he grasped hold of the zipper, “should we talk about this or—”

“Bucky? Y/n? You guys read me?”

Steve.

“Seems the coms are back on,” you sighed, stepping to the side after Bucky finished zipping your suit. He was still holding his tactical vest in his hand, along with the one-armed jacket. His hair was untamed, cheeks flushed, and you imagined you looked of the same.

“We got you, Steve,” Bucky replied, though it seemed rather reluctant. “Where you been, man? You dropped us in a warzone.”

“Yeah, I figured that out,” Steve grumbled back. “Get to the jet. We’ll debrief on the way back. Don’t forget to rig the place to blow on your way out.”

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, grinning at Bucky as he slipped his jacket on. “Certainly, can’t forget the one thing you sent us here to do.”

“Unless you’ve got more Hydra agents hiding in the wings?” Bucky added on and you could practically see Steve deadpan from the cockpit.

“Just get out of there before I come get you myself.”

You laughed as you slid the batons back into the holsters at your shoulder blades.

It was strange, how quickly it felt as if nothing had changed at all. Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe it was a quick release and you were simply helping a friend. Maybe it was something neither of you would speak of again and you’d go right back to being partners, friends, as if it never happened.

But as you turned around at the edge of the room, a smile wide upon your face, you found Bucky watching you with a kind of look in his eye you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t one you recognized, wasn’t one you’d seen in him before. It was something new.

His eyes flickered to your collarbone where a mark upon your skin was growing discolored; bite marks and bruising where his mouth had been. A strange mixture of remorse and longing, affection and need, all rolled into one.

“You ready, Buck?”

He nodded quickly, snapping himself from his gaze with a pressed smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, though he tried. He met you at the edge of the room, trailing a few steps behind you, and you turned around to find him staring back into the cell, like he was trying to preserve a memory of some kind.

You realized as you watched Bucky clear his throat awkwardly, turning back to you with a gentle blush of pink in his cheeks, that there was no pretending you hadn’t crossed a line together. There was no going back.

---

part 2

[poeticandors]

I Want to Touch You

Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Part 4 of the TOUCH series

Summary: Steve’s POV. After leaving your house, Steve can’t help but be grateful for the offer you have given him. After spending so long caring about you, he can only be thankful at this opportunity to finally be given a chance to treat you the way you deserve, and to show you just how good you can feel. 

WARNINGS: 18+ Content (Minors DNI), sexual language, fingering, handjob, cursing

A/N: Thank you so much for being patient with me! I only hope that you enjoy this next part. Love you all!

GIF belongs to @dailystrangerthings

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Steve fumbles for his keys as he quickly walks to his car, dropping them in a frantic state as he curses to himself, and leans down to grab them. Although he left your house in a cool, collected demeanor, he was panicking on the inside. Did that really just happen? It had to have been a dream, right? The stain on his pants argued otherwise and that is when he realized…

He finally got to kiss you. Granted, he finally got to do other things with you over the course of a few days, things he has only ever dreamed of doing. The image of you losing yourself to pleasure will forever be etched in his mind. The sounds of your soft moans and cries continue to echo in his ears, and the feel of your lips against his was what he always imagined it would be like. 

Steve gets in his car and closes the door, breathing out before he sticks his keys in the ignition. He grips the wheel, and looks up to your window to see that the light is still on. He wonders what you are doing now after the mere seconds he walked out of your door. Were you thinking about him the way he was about you? Did you ever think about him in the way that he did about you?

Because he was always thinking about you– the way your eyes lit up whenever you would see him, the sound of your laugh after he made some type of joke about some random customer just so he could hear it, and not to mention your smile which has slowly become his favorite thing to see every single day. 

Weiterlesen

[poeticandors]

Touch Me

Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Part 3 of the TOUCH series

Summary: After the previous night, you make the decision to push yourself even further with your sexuality, or lack thereof. The only problem is, you want to ask Steve to help you. Would he be willing to help, or push you away?

WARNINGS: 18+ Content (Minors DNI), sexual language, outercourse/Dry humping, cursing

A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for all the wonderful, positive reactions to this series. You guys are all amazing, thank you for waiting patiently. ALSO. A lot of you guys requesting to be tagged arent showing up, so some people got removed from the taglist. Also, apparently there is a limit so the taglist is closed. I wish I could tag every single one of you guys bc you are all amazing! 🥺

GIF belongs to @harringtonswiftie​

Part 1 Part 2 

Even though it had only been a day or so since you last saw Steve, you were anxious to see him. Not in a ‘I miss you’ sort of way, but more of a ‘I have something important to ask you’ way. Okay, maybe you did miss him a little. He was your friend, after all. But you didn’t miss him in that way. 

You decided to call in for work, begging Robin to switch hours with you and throwing in a lunch date so that you would be able to have more time to properly think this over. You weren’t exactly sure what the right way to ask Steve if he would be the first person you had sex with. 

Should you give a presentation with pros and cons? No, he definitely would fall asleep in the middle of it. 

Should you try to… seduce him? That… could work. But, no. You couldn’t do that. 

In the end, you decided that just meeting with and asking him in person was probably the smartest way to do it. If he told you no, then that would still be okay. You could both move on, and maybe you could even find someone else who would be willing to have sex with you. 

But… there was also a part of you that was confident he would agree. He did help you feel good that first night– he literally encouraged you and held you close while reaching your first ever orgasm. Not only that, but he even told you it was okay to pleasure yourself while laying in bed next to him while he did the same for himself. After both of these events, he didn’t once make you feel ashamed or kick you out. He really acted as if what the two of you did was a common occurrence. 

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[poeticandors]

Morning Touches

Steve Harrington x F!Reader 

Part 2 of the TOUCH series 

Summary: After the events that occurred the previous night, you wonder just how things may have shifted between you and Steve. Turns out, things only go from there in a way you might not have expected. 

WARNINGS: 18+ Content (Minors DNI), sexual language, sexual content, mutual masturbation, fingering, curse words, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for all the wonderful, positive reactions to this series. You guys are amazing and I only hope that you enjoy the future parts to this story. Song is Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money.

GIF is not mine and belongs to @semisweetshadow

Part 1

Work was a drag. Nothing new. You were bored out of your mind all day, considering you weren’t scheduled to work with either Robin or Steve today, leaving you stuck with Keith the entire time. It also didn’t help that it was a slow morning, there were barely any customers until the late afternoon but you didn’t mind. Having all the time to shelve the videos, check on late returns, and rewind the tapes really should’ve kept your mind off of other things. 

It didn’t.

Rather than stay completely focused on your tasks, your mind strayed to the events from the previous night. No matter how many times you tried to push it out of your mind, you would go right back to thinking about it. 

You thought of the way you were pressed back against Steve’s broad chest while watching the lewd film. The sound of his voice echoed in your ears as he whispered those small encouragements to you, urging you to keep making yourself feel good. You could still feel the way his big hands felt as one covered your own while the other squeezed and pinched at your breast, and the brush of his lips against your cheek as he whispered against you or the way they glided against your neck as he kissed you there. The way he held you while doing all those things as you rode through your orgasm played on a constant loop in your mind.

A slight shiver travels down your back, and you shake your head as you walk to the back shelf with a stack of videos, ready to place them in their respective places. Just as you go to place one on the shelf, a hand grabs your shoulder, causing you to drop them all to the floor. 

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[poeticandors]

Soft Touches

Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Part 1 of the TOUCH series

Summary: You and Steve Harrington have been friends for so long, and he finds out that you have never once pleasured yourself. He takes it upon himself to help you learn just how to do so.

WARNINGS: 18+ Content (Minors DNI), sexual language, sexual content, masturbation (Female with male assistance), fingering, cursing

Not my GIF

The hand on the clock seemed to be moving slower and slower the longer you stare at it. There were only a few minutes left until your shift ended, but you had been counting down the seconds the moment you clocked in to work. Did you hate your job? Not necessarily, it gave you money you needed for school and rent, but it wasn’t the greatest. From a not so great manager, to asshole customers, it was hard to actually want to be at the video store.

“Enjoy your movie, have a nice night.” 

You glance over to the counter, seeing your coworker and friend, Steve, hand over some change and a video to a customer. It was actually Steve who helped you get this job. Not that you needed the help since everyone who comes in practically gets hired on the spot, but you still appreciated him doing so. 

The man quickly takes the video from Steve, and you happen to notice the slight flush on his cheeks as he tries keeping the cover of the box hidden against his chest while walking out of the store. Thinking nothing of it, you turn back to your task of reorganizing the shelves.

“Jesus, this is the fourth time that guy has rented that fuckin’ movie.” Steve shakes his head, stretching his arms up.

“What movie was it?” You ask, returning video cases back to their original spots on the shelves.

“A fuckin’ porno, that’s what. He’s come in four times in the last few weeks to renew his rental on that same one!” 

“Gross,” you scoff, finishing up with your task before walking over to the counter. “Remind me to disinfect that when he brings it back.”

Weiterlesen

[lunarbuck]

Easy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!avengers!reader (any race)

WC: 6.2k

Summary: When Stark Industries hires you to work with the Avengers, Bucky Barnes is assigned as your partner. The two of you don't see eye to eye, to say the least, but that all changes after one fateful night at a Tony Stark Party.

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of violence, description of injury, enemies to lovers, oral (f receiving), smut (p in v)

A/N: This is too long to be a one-shot,, it kinda very much got away from me but I figured I'd still add it to this series! I hope you all enjoy, please let me know what you think <3

main masterlist | one shot masterlist

IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS

“God damnit, Y/N, we don’t have time for this shit,” Bucky’s harsh whisper carries across the room to where you are working.

“It’s fine, Barnes. You did your sniper shit; now it’s time for me to do my shit.” You continued picking the hidden lock in the ornate wooden desk. You grumble under your breath about how much of a dick he’s being and work your lock picking keys into the mechanism.

After a bit of wiggling, you hear a click. You turn the keys, and the sound of a drawer popping open above you confirms your suspicions. You slide out from under the desk and open the newly discovered drawer. Inside is a laptop, and judging by how much they had tried to hide it, that is what you have been looking for. You grab the computer and shoot a glare at Bucky. He is always doubting your abilities. “Let’s go, old man,” you say shortly, putting the laptop in your backpack and shouldering it on. Bucky rolls his eyes and starts leading the way back to the window you both had climbed in through earlier. His strides are longer, so he quickly gets farther away from you. You don’t bother trying to catch up.

Shots ring out from behind you, and you duck, grabbing your gun. You fire back, keeping behind a wall for shelter while Bucky continues on, already around the corner and probably far enough to not think anything of the shots. You are still too preoccupied with the agent attacking you to call for his help.

You quickly run out of ammo. You make a show of dropping your weapon and beg the man with your eyes to let you live. He does exactly what you want. The man approaches you, a wicked grin growing on his face. Your hand creeps slowly to the hilt of your knife at your waist. You let him get closer, waiting for the perfect moment. Right as he presses the trigger, you dive and stab the man in the leg, right in his IT band. He howls in pain and tries to shoot you again, but you are quicker, and you push the knife into his side. The man falls with a loud thud just as Bucky comes running back down the hall for you.

“Y/N, I--”

“Oh look, my knight in shining armor,” you say sarcastically, forcing the bile that’s rising in your throat back down. You wipe off your blade and push past Bucky. The window is still open from when you’d done the climb into the building, so you maneuver yourself out onto the siding and climb down. You are seething. How could he have left you like that?

You’ve been partners with Bucky for a few months, and missions have always been touch and go. The two of you are constantly bickering, picking on each other, and fighting about how to do stuff.

You only tolerate the man because Tony had quite the vision for you and the Winter Soldier. The whole idea was that Bucky would do his sniper spy stuff, and you’d go in and sneak around looking for hard drives or whatever you needed from that mission. So far, all your missions have been successful, but you can’t get past the smug look on that asshole’s face.

You stalk off to the car; a black SUV parked a few blocks from the building. You sit in the passenger’s seat, waiting for Bucky. He finally gets in the car, and you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. It's palpable how pissed both of you are.

The drive back is unbearable, and the second you arrive at the Tower, you go your separate ways. You aren’t an Avenger, so you don’t live in the same wing as Bucky, and you are incredibly thankful for that.

Your neighbor, Lee, always makes sure to check on you after missions. You don’t know what you’d do without them. Lee knocks on your door 30 minutes after you get back, giving you enough time to change out of your tactical gear and into a pair of sweatpants with a comfy shirt. They don’t bother waiting for you to open the door; they know it’ll be unlocked.

“How’d it go today with the old guy?” They ask, placing a bottle and two shot glasses down on your counter. You huff out a laugh as you head over to them.

“It sucked.” Lee pours two heaping shots of tequila and offers you one. You take it and tap glasses with Lee before downing the shot. It’s a tradition. A few shots after a tough mission always make you feel better. “He left me alone while I was getting shot at. What kind of partner does that?” Lee shakes their head and pours another shot for the two of you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Why don’t you just ask to get reassigned? I get it was Tony’s idea and all, but if you two don’t work well together, it isn’t worth it.” You take the shot and wipe at your mouth, scanning the kitchen for a chaser.

“That’s the thing, we do well together on the missions. If you ignore the bickering, we actually are a great team. We just don’t get along very well the rest of the time.” Lee nods but doesn’t really believe you.

“He’s also not so not so bad to look at,” Lee says quickly before taking a shot. Your jaw drops, but you have to agree.

“I mean, you’re right but don’t tell anyone,” you laugh loudly and try to push the image of Bucky out of your head.

He frequents your thoughts, images of him working out, taking down an agent, or literally just standing there looking like a fucking greek god. “Jesus, Lee, please don’t tell anyone.” You take your last shot and shake your head at Lee. They laugh along with you; your secret’s safe with them.

It’s getting late, and you have to debrief with Steve and Bucky in the morning about the mission. You can’t afford to be late or hungover for that. Lee heads out, and you make your way to bed, still pissed with Bucky.

“You did what?” Steve shouts after hearing about Bucky leaving you to deal with an attacker alone. Bucky just stares at you, lips pressed into a thin line. He doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t need to. His eyes say it all.

“It’s fine,” you say, standing abruptly from your chair. You can’t sit still anymore. “I’m fine. Nothing happened. Just don’t do it again.” The first part of your statement, you say directly to Steve. The second part, you spit at Bucky. It just fuels the fire.

“It’s not like I’d do that on purpose,” Bucky says, his voice getting louder.

“But you also didn’t come back for me. You were going to leave me there!” Steve looks between the two of you like he is watching a tennis match.

“I came back, Y/N! What else was I supposed to do? Magically sense that he was there and kill him for you?” You roll your eyes and open your mouth to respond, but before you can, he is speaking over you. “You’re a big girl,” he says, voice dripping with vitriol. “You can handle yourself. If you can’t, maybe you should rethink your profession.” He storms out of the room, letting the sting of his words settle.

Two weeks later, you are put on another mission with Bucky. It’s simple-- well, it was supposed to be. Everything is going wrong. There are more agents in the building than you originally planned for, and there are too many people guarding the hard drive you are after. You and Bucky are outnumbered. You take down as many of them as you can, but they just keep coming. While both of you and Bucky had called for backup, no one was coming to save you. You are in it alone.

The brief for the mission had been tense; you hadn’t spoken to each other since that day he told you to get a new job. He had no idea how much it hurt to hear him say that, literally the day before you had been defending him to Lee, and he just tore you down in an instant.

Ever since Tony had recruited you, you’d felt like you weren’t meant to be there. You didn’t have super strength, you weren’t bitten by anything, and as far as you knew, you hadn’t been injected with any super cool hero goo. You were just really good at stealing shit. It isn’t a superpower. It isn’t even something people could appreciate. But Tony saw something in you, so you had to believe that you were there for a reason.

Searing pain in your leg brings your thoughts back to the present moment. You dive out of the way and press yourself as tightly as possible behind a shelving unit, seeking cover from the onslaught of gunfire you are taking. Bucky is firing back, but his eyes are searching for you. He finds you pushing back against the wall, pressing on your leg. Blood seeps from your fingers out onto the floor. The click of his gun alerts him to the fact that he is out of ammo. He crouches down next to you, checking for more but comes up empty.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks quietly, giving you a once over. He pulls a knife out of his pocket and flips it through his fingers. You nod and reach for your own knife, feeling it in your waistband.

“Help me up,” you say through gritted teeth, trying to push yourself up. Bucky shakes his head, but the men are approaching. You don’t have time to argue with him. “Right, I’m a big girl. I’ll just do it myself.” Bucky rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t have time for a snarky remark. The men are firing again. You force the pain in your leg out of your head and focus on the task at hand.

You pull the knife from your waistband and wait for the perfect moment to jump into the fight Bucky had started. The two of you make quick work of the agents, stabbing and slashing at them expertly. Once all the agents are down, pain floods your body. You have done a good job of pushing it away, but you don’t have the energy to keep it up. You fall back against the wall and press your hand to your gunshot wound.

“Are you gonna be able to get out?” Bucky asks, gesturing to the 8 flights of stairs you’ll have to descend to get out of the building.

“I’ll be fine,” you grunt, pushing off the wall and stumbling a bit. “Big girl, remember?” You walk past him, dragging your leg a bit. The thought of making the trek down the stairs makes you want to throw up, but you can’t let Bucky know that. He waits behind you, only walking down the stairs once you have gone.

“Let me carry you,” he mumbles, voice horse. You stop walking and face him, trying to keep your weight off your leg.

“Hell no,” you huff, laughing a bit at the proposition.

“Well, I doubt you could hate me more than you already do, so deal with it, I guess.” He passes you quickly on the stairs and goes to your side, sliding one arm behind your knees and the other on your back.

“Bucky, don’t--”

“You’re too slow on your own. I don’t want to be in this place longer than we need to be.” You can’t squirm out of his grip, and you can’t think of a witty response, so you just hold onto him as he carries you out.

You’ve never been this close to Bucky. You can smell his pine body wash mixed with his sweat; it is intoxicating. Finally, the two of you reach the bottom floor, but Bucky doesn’t set you down. He walks you all the way to the jet, putting you down in the co-pilot chair. A weird tension falls over the two of you, but it is different than the one that had been present earlier.

“Thanks,” you grumble, pushing through your bag, looking for your medkit.

“We’d still be up there if I hadn’t carried you,” he replies curtly as he readies the jet for takeoff. You find a large roll of gauze and wrap it around your leg to apply pressure. You don’t have the skills to do anything better, so that’ll have to do until you get back to the Tower. You try to get some sleep on the ride home. It’s about a two-hour flight, but every time you shut your eyes, you feel Bucky staring at you. After about 30 minutes, you get fed up with it.

“Can I help you?” You ask somewhat groggily. You turn your head and look at Bucky, raising your eyebrows to emphasize the question.

“I was just checking to see if you’re okay; I thought that’s what you wanted.” He huffs a little bit and focuses back on the flight.

“God, you’re infuriating,” you mumble, turning in your seat, so your back is to the man. The rest of the trip is spent in silence, and you can finally fall asleep.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky says gently, shaking your shoulder a bit to wake you. “We’re back.” You rub your eyes, trying to shake the sleep from your body.

“Okay.” You push yourself up from the chair but immediately fall, crumpling into Bucky’s body. He catches you and holds you up, but you try to push away.

“You can’t walk,” he says, pulling you back into his arms. Without asking, he picks you up and starts to carry you off the jet. Neither of you speaks, and the silence that falls over you is surprisingly comfortable. All you hear is the sounds of his heavy boots on the steel floor and the soft whirring of his metal arm in his jacket. You rest your head on his shoulder, and Bucky inhales sharply, holding his breath. He carries you into the elevator and down to the medical wing, dropping you off gently onto one of the open beds.

“Thanks,” you say to him somewhat awkwardly. One of the doctors walks over and quickly starts treating your wounds. You shoo Bucky away, not wanting him to be around for when you had to take off your pants. He makes himself scarce but can’t help but pace outside in the hallway until you are discharged. It is a quick fix, and you’ll be back on your feet soon, so you are able to hobble your way back to your room all on your own. A message from Tony on your phone alerts you to at least two weeks of desk work, but then you’ll be back in the field just in time for his next lavish party.

You have a love-hate relationship with Tony’s parties. You like getting drunk, but you don’t like the whole interacting with other people thing. Normally, most agents don’t go to the parties, it tends to just be the Avengers and the higher-ups, but since you are partners with an Avenger, you have to make an appearance. Tony insists that you and Bucky make your rounds and talk to all the important people. You will tolerate it, hooking your arm around Bucky’s, smiling and nodding along to what the man says to everyone. The second you are done with everything, you and Bucky will go your separate ways.

That’s the plan for tonight’s party as well. Get in, get drunk, get out.

Easy.

Lee helps you get dressed; they love doing your hair and makeup. You decide to wear a short lavender satin dress with a low back, the fabric pooling just at the base of your spine. It is a bit more skin than you are used to showing, but you don’t have many dress options. You’re somewhat wary of showing off your stitched-up wound, but it’s healing nicely, and you are set to get the stitches out in a few days. You slip on a pair of heels and take a shot with Lee for good luck before heading out. Perks of living in the Tower: no commute home.

You make your way to the 50th floor where the party is being held and are greeted by the loud sounds of dancing, mingling, and music. Stepping out of the elevator, you immediately look for the bar. You make a b-line for it and order yourself a vodka soda, taking it from the bartender, thankfully. A hand on your lower back makes you shiver, and you spin around to face the owner of the hand. Bucky.

“You look nice,” he says, leaning in close. You continue to sip at your drink and roll your eyes.

“Thanks, Grandpa,” you reply.

Suddenly, Tony’s voice pierces through the noise of the party, and you and Bucky visibly cringe. “Ah, my favorite broody pair. What’re you two doing hiding out over here? You know the rules, make your rounds and then get shit-faced.” He claps the two of you on the shoulders and you down the rest of your drink, earning a scoff from Tony.

You set down your glass and try to link arms with Bucky, but he has different plans. His hand slides into place on your lower back, gloved fingers reaching to your waist. You inhale sharply, but he’s already walking and pushing you lightly to stay next to him.

The two of you make your rounds, talking to investors and big-shot corporate people, but you can barely focus on anything other than Bucky’s hand pressing against your skin. Even through the leather gloves, you can feel the heat of his hand.

Finally, the two of you make your way back to the bar, but Bucky’s hand doesn’t leave your skin. He orders you another drink which you sip at, trying to ignore how close Bucky is standing to you.

“Why are you so grumpy tonight, doll,” he asks somewhat sarcastically. You lean against the bar and look up at him, glaring a bit.

“I’m not grumpy; I just don’t like parties. We’ve been to enough of ’em together. You should know that by now.” You down the rest of your drink and motion to the bartender for another.

“If you hate ’em so much, why do you dress up so nice?” You scoff; he keeps complimenting you. It’s weird.

“Because if I didn’t, Tony would have my head.” The bartender brings you a new glass, and you push the ice around with one of the little black straws.

“And here I thought you were doing it all for me.” He laughs and presses a little firmer on your waist with his fingers. You huff a little and shift your footing. “Aw, am I ruffling your feathers, pretty girl?”

“What’re you playing at, Barnes,” you ask, sipping your drink and trying to ignore how much you like it when he calls you that.

“Am I not allowed to compliment you?” He smirks, and you know you’ve been caught.

“It’s just that you’ve never been all that nice to me, so it’s just--” you take a sip as you try to find the word. “New, I guess.” Bucky laughs and sips his own drink, which you think is kind of weird considering the man can’t get drunk. The song changes to something more upbeat, and a woman makes her way to the bar.

“Hey, Buck,” she says, putting a well-manicured hand on his arm. “You wanna dance?” Bucky looks uncomfortable but forces a smile and walks out to the floor with her. You shiver in the absence of his hand on your back but push the feeling from your mind. So what? Bucky’s a dick, and you don’t care what he thinks or who he dances with.

You watch him dance with the scantily clad woman. She wraps herself around him, grinding against him, but his gaze isn’t on her but instead staring straight ahead. His jaw is tense, and his hands never touch her, only hover above her skin. You still hate the sight, but since when did you care?

“Y/N, right?” You tear your gaze away from Bucky and the woman, shifting it to the man who has approached you. It takes you a moment to remember his name, but after a few seconds, it comes to you.

“Yeah, Jon?” He nods and gives you a not-so-subtle once over, eyes lingering on your exposed skin.

“How about a dance?” You feel eyes on you, and over Jon’s shoulder, you can see Bucky staring daggers in your direction. It’s enough motivation for you to accept the invitation.

“I’d love to dance.” You grab Jon’s hand and pull him out onto the dance floor, still within Bucky’s line of sight.

You press yourself against Jon, who is happy to hold you close. You aren’t dancing as sexily as the woman with Bucky, but it’s enough to piss him off. Jon is pretty into it until Bucky approaches. He grabs your arm and pulls you away from Jon, much to your dance partner’s dismay. Jon makes no attempt to fight for you, though, and makes his way over to Bucky’s abandoned dance partner. You try to wiggle out of Bucky’s grip, but there is no escaping him. He pulls you into the elevator and jabs at one of the buttons.

“What the hell was that?” He asks, still holding onto your arm. His grip is tight. It’ll probably leave a bruise.

“The fuck, Bucky, I was just dancing,” you say, noticing that Bucky has pressed the button for the top floor. “Why are we going to the Avengers floor?” The doors open, and he drags you out and into the main room. It’s deserted since everyone is down at the party. It’s strange for it to be so quiet.

“I just wanted somewhere quiet to talk,” he replies, releasing your arm. You rub at the skin he had been holding onto. It’s sore from his grip.

“You could’ve just said that. I would’ve gone with you.” He scoffs a bit and rolls his eyes at you.

“You hate listening to me; we both know that.” He’s right; you do hate listening to him. But what you hate more is when he’s right.

“Oh come on, Buck, what’s wrong?” You ask, leaning your back against the wall. Bucky paces around in front of you, obviously thinking about something.

“What were you doing with that guy?” He takes his gloves off and tosses them onto a table a few feet away.

“We were just dancing; what were you doing with that girl?” You ask, voice a bit higher-pitched than you hoped it would be.

“She was dancing. I was too busy watching your display with that Jon guy.” He takes a few steps toward you, standing close again. You can smell his cologne; it makes your knees weak. “You don’t seriously like that guy, do you?” You don’t, but you kind of like how messed up Bucky is over this.

“So what if I do? It’s not like I’m with anyone right now.” Bucky shrugs off his suit jacket and drops it unceremoniously to the ground. You’ll never admit it, but he looks really good like that. The disheveled assassin look is very hot.

“You think that guy knows how to treat you, right? How to take care of you?” His voice drops toward the end of the statement, and he steps closer. He is inches from you, close enough to touch.

“Oh, and you think you do? That’s real funny, Buck.” He places his metal arm next to your head, leaning against the wall.

“Who says I don’t? It’s not like you’ve given me a chance to show you.” You suck in a breath; his face is so close to yours. It feels like his eyes are about to swallow you whole.

“What d’you mean? You’re always so mean to me. You hated me from the second I got here.” You feel yourself deflate a little at the thought of meeting Bucky, having him reject you instantly. He had even asked Tony for a new partner in front of you on that first day.

“I’ve never hated you, Y/N, it’s just--” He licks his lips as he thinks of what to say next. “I’ve never worked with someone other than Steve.” You don’t like his explanation. “I didn’t wanna hurt you or put you in a bad spot. Plus, you’re so cute when you’re all worked up.” You drop your eyes, unable to stare into his anymore. Bucky chuckles, stepping one of his feet in between yours.

“You should’ve told me you didn’t hate me,” you say, voice a bit raspy. “Maybe I would’ve been nicer.” You know that you probably still would’ve been snarky; it’s just the kind of person you are.

“I didn’t think I’d like you as much as I did,” he says, bringing his flesh hand up to brush a piece of hair out of your face. “So I kept it up, hoping that you’d distance yourself from me. I’m not much of a people person.” His hand comes to rest at the nape of your neck, thumb pressing gently at your jaw.

“So what, is this your big confession?” You say, trying to hide your nervous excitement. You’d never said it out loud, but you’ve always had a bit of a crush on the man. You like how he teases you, and sure sometimes he takes it a bit far, but so have you. It isn’t a one-sided thing, but the day he told you to get a new job had been a new level. You really thought he’d hated you.

“Sure,” he says, and before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours. You gasp a bit against the kiss, but he angles your head with his hand to fit against him better. The kiss is hot, passionate, and full of everything you’ve been feeling for the past few months as his partner.

Your hands wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His hands find their way to your back, arching it off the wall. You moan softly into the kiss, face heating. You didn't mean to make that noise.

“God, if you wanted me that bad, you just had to say so,” Bucky says against your lips. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He holds you close, supporting your hips and back with his strong hands. Bucky walks you to his room, kicking the door open. He tosses you down onto his bed, and you land with a little squeal.

He’s on you in an instant. Kissing you, hands tangling in your once-styled hair. Your hands roam all over him, feeling his build through his thin shirt. Eventually, your fingers find the buttons on the front of his shirt. You make quick work of them and pull the fabric from his body, and he happily discards it on the ground. Bucky stares down at you, eyes hungry and dark. He looks like a fucking god, and it makes you want him that much more. His hands run up your legs, pushing your dress up and up until your panties are exposed.

His hand grazes over your gunshot wound, and immediately the fire inside you is doused. Bucky sees it, and you can tell his focus is entirely on your stitched-up flesh. His fingers trace the bandage; it’s something Banner had come up with. The stitches and bandages are clear, so observing the wound’s healing is easier. At this moment, though, you wish Bucky couldn’t see the damage to your leg.

“Buck,” you whisper, placing a hand over his, covering your stitches. “Where’d you go?” You ask quietly. It’s something he asks you when he catches you spacing out on the jet. You say it in an attempt to make him smile, but all he does is shake his head.

“This is my fault,” he says quietly. You push yourself up to sit and reach a hand up to Bucky’s face. He leans his head into your hand, but his eyes stay on your leg.

“I don’t blame you, Buck. It’s part of the job; you did what you could.” His eyes flit back to yours, and you see the storm clouds rolling in his usually bright blue eyes. Before that moment, you hadn’t gotten around to mentioning that you don’t hold a grudge about that day you’d been ambushed.

Shit happens. It’s impossible to be everywhere all at once. You know that.

“I’m a shitty partner,” he says with a dry chuckle. You know he doesn’t mean for it to be funny, but you laugh a little anyways. He stares at you in surprise, but you ignore the look. Instead, you push yourself to sit up. You crawl on top of him and push his chest back, so he hits the mattress with a little oof .

Bucky watches as you lean over him and press gentle kisses to his forehead, nose, cheeks, jaw, and collar bones. His eyes are wide with disbelief, and honestly, if you weren’t right here kissing him, you’d have a hard time believing it too.

Without realizing it, you’ve begun to focus your affection on his left shoulder, where skin meets metal. You’ve heard Bucky talk about how much his arm affects him. It’s a constant reminder of his past, of the person he tries so hard not to be anymore.

You show him how beautiful you think it is.

“Don’t talk about my partner that way,” you mumble against his skin. Though the words are quiet, you know Bucky has heard them. You continue kissing down his abdomen, planting one on each rib, on that little trail of hair that leads below his belt. As you’re about to unbutton his pants, Bucky grabs you and pulls you back up, so you’re face to face with him. You can feel his cock pressed against your center, and you shiver at the pleasant pressure it provides.

Bucky grips your hips tightly, and the pressure makes you want him even more.

“Fuck,” he mutters, shifting your hips to grind against him ever so slightly. Something snaps in him, and you practically see the shift. Bucky’s fingers find the edge of your dress and tug it up off of you before discarding it on the floor.

His eyes take in every inch of your exposed skin. Your first instinct is to cover up, but under Bucky’s gaze, you feel confident. You give Bucky a smile, and he flashes one right back, though his is much more mischievous than yours.

Before you get a chance to ask him of his plans, Bucky flips the two of you over, so he’s got you caged between his arms. He kisses you briefly on your lips before trailing his mouth down your body, nipping at your skin as he moves. When he settles between your legs, he looks like a man starved. Bucky whispers something to himself that you can’t hear then spreads his tongue along your core. His breath is hot on your sensitive skin, and you can’t help but grip his hair in your fingers.

He works you expertly, bringing you to your peak after only a few moments. No one has ever made you feel this way. Your thoughts swim; you can only think of Bucky and his talented tongue.

“Please, Buck,” you groan, not even sure why you’re begging. You know he’s going to give it to you; he’s going to make you come. And he does, he picks up his pace, focusing on what makes you squirm, and with a final tug on his hair, you come undone. Pleasure washes over you, and you moan loudly, not caring who hears.

When Bucky kisses his way back up your body, you feel warmth spread through your body. He smiles at you again, and you tug him down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it spurs you on.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks through gritted teeth. His question takes you by surprise, but you nod a few times, put in a trance by his eyes. They shine so brightly. He kisses you again quickly before grabbing a condom out of the nightstand drawer. Bucky mutters to himself under his breath as he rolls the condom then lines himself up with you. He swears under his breath, and all you can do is stare up at him.

“Please,” you whisper, gripping his arm tightly.

You watch him roll the condom over himself and try not to groan at the sight. You can’t believe that less than an hour ago, you were convinced he hated your guts.

Bucky positions himself between your legs, and the sight takes your breath away. “Fuck,” you whisper as he pushes into you. Bucky huffs out a laugh at your reaction; he can’t seem to get enough. He leans in to kiss you, reassuring you as he pushes into you. The stretch is perfect, and he fills you better than anything you could’ve imagined.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers against your lips. You can’t formulate words, so your reply is a jumbled mess of whimpers and moans. Bucky grins into the kiss, threading his fingers into your hair. Bucky uses the grip to hold you still as he ravages your mouth. His teeth scrape your lips, and you moan at the action, not bothered by how loud you are. He rocks into you, not pulling out but just keeping himself seated deep inside of you.

Your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting as electricity courses through you. Bucky sets a deep, steady pace that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. No one has ever fucked you like Bucky is now; you didn’t know people could even be this good at it.

Somehow, Bucky can read you like a book. He kisses your lips sweetly and whispers that you don’t need to talk. Just let him do all the work. You’re not even sure you can move even if you want to.

Your hands wander over his back and shoulders, feeling his skin and scars. They explore his shoulder, the mechanism fusing skin and metal, and a shiver travels down Bucky’s spine. It spurs him to move faster, and waves of pleasure wash over you.

You get closer and closer to your release, the way Bucky is working your body, hitting all the right spots, is perfect. There’s just enough friction against your clit to make you see stars, and as you near your orgasm, Bucky kisses down your neck, sucking on the soft spot just below your jaw.

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you whimper, sucking in a breath. “I’m so close,” your voice is barely audible, but he can still hear you.

“I know, I know,” he comforts, pressing you further into the mattress. “I need you to come for me. You gonna do that?” You nod your head quickly, screwing your eyes shut. “Needta hear the magic word.” Frustration creeps into your thoughts, but it doesn’t stick around long. You want to come more than you want to pick a fight.

“Yes, Bucky,” you say through a groan. “Please.” The word flips a switch, and Bucky changes his approach, his pace speeds up, and his metal fingers find your clit. Your eyes flutter open for just long enough to see Bucky’s bright blues flash.

“Atta girl.” You can’t hold eye contact for long, your orgasm washes over you, and you lose any coherent thoughts in your mind. Bucky follows you a few moments later, collapsing on top of you once he’s spent.

When you finally come out of your post-orgasm haze, you find yourself combing your fingers through Bucky’s hair. He is tracing shapes on your abdomen and legs, tickling you but not in an uncomfortable way.

“Do we have to pretend to hate each other tomorrow?” You ask quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace that has easily fallen over the two of you.

Bucky shakes his head. “No, they probably already know.” You furrow your brow and stick your hand out, feeling around for your phone. You find it shoved under a pillow, but you’re not sure how it got there.

You unlock it and find a few texts, but the one that stands out is from Lee, “Can’t say I didn’t see it coming… I expect a full report ASAP ;)” You roll your eyes and toss your phone toward the edge of the bed. Explaining everything can come later. Figuring out your feelings can wait.

Right now, all that matters is the feeling of Bucky’s skin on yours, of his whispered words on your lips.

Easy.

If you would like to be tagged in future my works please lmk <3

@peaches1958 @scxrletrecsmarvel @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3 @buckysbirdie

[dilemmaontwolegs-deactivated202]

Breaking And Entering - Part 2

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: Fate has you and Bucky crossing paths and leads to a change of heart. Warnings: 18+ only, outercourse, slight knife kink Word Count:2372

Part One || Part Two || Part Three

RECAP: You laid there for 20 minutes, arguing with yourself about what you were going to do but there was never any choice, failure was not an option. So you carefully removed his arm from around you and looked down at the peaceful face of the man who had broken some part of you that you didn’t know you had. Tears began to prick at your eyes and blur your vision as you silently removed his dog tags and disappeared into the night.

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

The phone charging on your side table vibrated for the third time today. It wasn’t even 7am. You knew you were running out of time to deliver the dog tags to the buyer, and he was not a man to be messed around. But for one reason or another there was some deeply repressed emotion stopping you from handing it over. Guilt.

“Get your shit together.”

You stared at your blurred reflection in the condensated mirror and tried to hide the emotion in your eyes. After failing miserably you swiped your hand across the steamed surface as if to erase it completely and turned away with a huff. You had bigger things to worry about.

The first place Kingpin would send his henchmen would be to the club you owned, it was where all your clients went to request your services. Of course everyone you met there thought you were merely a middleman, the real criminal mastermind’s secretary, none of them knew it was all you. You knew you couldn’t go back to the club for the foreseeable future and it wouldn’t take them long to find your house when they started looking. If you weren’t going to give him the dog tags you needed to leave town.

You grabbed the go bag that was stuffed in the bottom of your wardrobe and checked your tools, cash and clothes were still exactly as you had packed them. After getting dressed in some comfortable clothes, that you could also run in if needed, you hung the tags over your head and tucked them under your shirt. You would find somewhere safe to store them once you were out of town.

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[dilemmaontwolegs-deactivated202]

Breaking And Entering

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You break into Bucky’s apartment only to get sidetracked when you come face to face with the soldier. Warnings: 18+ only, smut, illegal activities, aftercare Word count: 2067

A/N: This may come back as a part two/reunion. UPDATE: it did and it will be a trilogy! Part Two Click HERE || Part Three HERE

You held your breath as you pushed the tension wrench into the bottom half of the lock and slipped the half pick in after. You felt each pin in the tumbler give way until you reached the end and twisted the two picks to the right and heard the bolt slide with them. You exhaled the breath you had been holding in as you heard no sounds inside the apartment you had been hired to break into.

You stepped carefully along the wooden floorboards and stuck close to the joints where there was less chance of a wayward creak giving your presence away. You had made it through the entrance and into the living room when you noticed blankets and a pillow in the middle of the floor. Your eyebrows furrowed as you wondered why it looked like someone had been sleeping there before you wondered where they might be now.

Your target was a necklace and the buyer had been very specific on the details of it, describing the dog tags and the history behind them but you didn’t care, you were only interested in the big payday the buyer was offering. Halfway to the bedroom you stopped at the blankets and pressed your hand to the soft material, still warm. You shot up as a glint of something metal moved silently in your peripheral vision and you ducked just in time to dodge the hand that tried to grab you.

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[dilemmaontwolegs-deactivated202]

The Fire Within

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: no plot, just a good hard railing from someone who also happens to piss you off a lot.

Warnings: 18+ only, smutty smut smut, praising, choking, oral (f receiving), spanking, filthy talk, a bit of a dark/asshole Bucky sorry.

Word count: 2.3k

This moment had been coming to a head for months and you knew it was only a matter of time before something happened. Every snide side comment, every sarcastic remark, it was all just stoking a fire that was about to ignite and Bucky was going to get burned.

“It’s all the chemistry.” Wanda commented as she read your mind and topped up your drink. “The two of you are like magnets.”

“If that magnet is the repelling kind.”

You left her trilling laugh behind you as you took yourself outside and inhaled all the fresh air that Esopus had to offer. You loved living so far from the city that you could actually see the stars, they were beautiful. The night was unseasonably warm and there was not a cloud to interrupt your view so you tipped your head back and enjoyed the twinkling panorama.

The music from the party behind you increased as someone opened the door and you didn’t bother to see who it was, you had a sixth sense whenever Bucky was around. You wondered why he even came out, the door was glass so it wasn’t like he didn’t see you. You assumed he was bored and felt like pushing your buttons, an annoying trait of his.

“Too good for the party, princess?” He asked as he rested his elbow on the rail.

“Why is it every time you open your mouth I just want to punch it?” You asked yourself quietly.

“Don’t be like that, doll.” He chuckled. “We both know that’s not what you want to do with my mouth.”

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[dilemmaontwolegs-deactivated202]

Equal Opportunist

assassin!Bucky Barnes x assassin!fem!reader

Summary: When one of the best assassins, the Winter Soldier, moves in to your territory and takes your kills things get heated.  Warnings: 18+ Only, NSFW, filthy smut, oral (both receiving), squirting, sex murder, bad language, voyeurism. WC: 2564

|| Masterlist || Requests are OPEN ||

You were perched on the edge of an old brick building, waiting for your target to exit his apartment and into your line of sight. Two small flashes of light flickered in the man’s window but you recognised it instantly and growled as you realised someone had beat you to the assassination. Packing your rifle up, you shoved it into the casing and made an exit before the police arrived and confirmed the kill.

From Asshole: Gotta be quicker than that, doll. To Asshole: You forgot your shells again. From Asshole: I knew you loved me.

You scoffed to yourself as you pocketed the phone and raced down the fire escape to your limited edition blacked out Audi R8 parked in the alley. You shoved the car in gear and pulled out only to nearly clip a black motorcycle speeding past, Barnes slapping your front bonnet with a smirk before he slammed his visor down and sped off.

“Don’t tempt me, motherfucker.”

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[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Heels

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x You

Plot: You hate each other, but love competition.

Warnings: 18+. SMUT. Angst.

Words: 8,800

For someone as tormented as Bucky Barnes, he sure gets around.

When you step out of the gym and find yet another female agent leave Bucky’s room, you bite back a scoff. You have to give it to him, they do all look thoroughly satisfied and fucked out when they leave his room. Strange thing is, every time the elevator doors close, indicating his ‘date’ for the night is descending away, a very unsatisfied Bucky rounds the corner.

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[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Quiet Down

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to wear that.

Warnings: 18+. Smut.

Words: 2,OOO

Unable to lie to yourself and feign your excitement any longer, you blow up your cheeks and breathe out a large puff of air, sitting up straight on your chair after zipping your heels to your ankles. The energy you had when you started dating again has long faded, and you have gotten so magnificently bored that not even the nerves get to you anymore.

You are this close to wearing sweatpants to your next date.

But you are desperate for a man-induced orgasm, so you suck up the uncomfortableness of your current outfit and push to a stand. Grasping your lipstick, you walk over to your body length mirror and re-apply it to your lips.

Flinching slightly when you hear a thump on your bedroom door, you turn around to watch it open, only to see it’s Bucky sneaking in. As you turn back to your reflection, Bucky looks you up and down, closes the door behind him and takes a seat at the edge of your bed, the mattress sinking underneath the weight of his muscles.

“Wow. Those outfits of yours are getting sluttier.” He retorts, sounding slightly impressed and amused “Going naked next time?”

You repress a smile, roll your eyes and throw a pillow from the nearest chair in his direction, which he catches with ease as he lets out a chuckle. You are used to comments like these, but you won’t let it slide too easily.

“Actually debating on wearing sweatpants next time, since these outfits are not paying off.” You complain and roll your lipstick back in, closing the lid and slipping it into your purse. “What do you want?”

Bucky takes in your words and quickly processes them before leaning back on his hands as you turn back to him “We’re going to watch a movie, but we need the Netflix password. Sam and Carol said you had it.”

You nod and quickly scribble it on a note before handing it to him, before grabbing one of your favourite necklaces and stepping over to the mirror once more. Bucky shoves the paper into his back pocket and slowly walks over to you, looking at you through the mirror as you struggle with the clasp in your neck.

“This outfit is way too revealing, you know. You have to leave some for the imagination.” He murmurs and swats your hands away as he starts fumbling with the clasp himself.

A faint alarm is ringing in your head at the intimacy of his hands in your neck and his breath fanning over your skin, but you remain blissfully ignorant.

Your shoulders sink down in defeat and you watch him focus on the necklace through the mirror, his tongue darted out slightly to put all his attention towards the tiny lock.

“Bucky, the men I encounter on these dates barely have enough braincells to show up.” You retort and he snorts “I can’t rely on their ability to use their imagination.”

Bucky curses under his breath when the necklace won’t do his bidding and before you can ask him why it is taking so long, his curious eyes stare at your reflection and he cocks his head with mischief in his eyes.

Slowly, but too fast for you to stop it, his vibranium fingers wrap around your throat and you instinctively raise your chin and bump back into his chest as the digits add pressure to your skin.

“Buck-”

“My hand looks much better around your throat, don’t you think?”

Where the sudden shift comes from, you have no idea, but it makes the hairs on your body stand upright. Back pressed into his front as his fingers roll lightly into your flesh as if to taunt the pressure he enforces, your throat goes dry as you look at his eyes.

His other hand grabs your hip and that is also when you feel a light bulge press into your back. Some very faint part of you is screaming at you to ask him what the hell he is doing, but the majority of your body is so desperate for relief that you can’t argue your roommate being the wrong choice.

But Bucky had always been respectful, frustratingly so. Sure, both you and him were brutally honest to each other and threw around filthy compliments like you did disgusting insults, but this is …different. His demeanor has changed completely.

Whenever Bucky flirted with you before, it had always been shallow and playful and never gave you any insight as to what he would be like in bed. But this, this gives you all the insight you need and your heartbeat starts pounding between your legs demandingly.

As your hand covers the one on your hip and the other clasps around his metal lower arm, Bucky’s smirks widens. Your eyes are wide as you look at him and his are full of determination, making you apprehensive of this unexpected side of him.

“My poor, poor roommate.” He drawls lowly, his breath hitting your ear as your eyes flutter at the feeling and sound of his voice “So goddamn horny and no one there to make her come.”

You whine, actually whine at his words and where you expect him to laugh at you, he soothingly rubs his thumb into your skin.

“Hmm, I know baby. You need someone to take care of you.” He whispers and takes your earlobe between his teeth “Someone to praise you while they do it.”

You sigh softly and barely notice his hand, with yours still over it, trail from your hip to the hem of your dress, raising it up as he slips underneath it.

Tensing up instantly when you feel his fingers trace over the slit of your panties, your hands clasps around his wrist tightly. Not to remove his hand, but in anticipation of what it is capable of.

“Bucky…” You breathe out quietly.

“Shh…” He hushes, the pressure of his fingers against your panties increasing slightly as they massage into the warm flesh “Carol and Sam are waiting for me to return so you’ve got to be quiet.”

Head lulling back onto his shoulder, he chuckles darkly against you, his grip on the sides of your neck tightening slightly as his fingers start rubbing through your panties, dragging slow circles over your clit.

Warmth pools in your underbelly and tingles shoot up and down your legs at the feeling of him knowing how to touch you so well. Your breathing gets slightly more laboured and your muscles tense up and relax at the same time, mind relaxing as Bucky winds the tension into your body with every drag of his fingers.

When you feel a warm, calloused fingertip slip past your underwear and swirl around the rim of your dripping hole, you let out a soft moan.

It is the very best sound Bucky thinks he’s ever heard and he rewards you by gliding his middle finger into you until the base of his finger stretches you lightly, your instant reflex being to convulse around the digit.

“Shit, you’re wet…” He groans and his metal hand roughly grips your jaw, his index finger covering your painted, parted lips “Dreamt about this for so long. Having you pulse around my fingers and turn you into a blabbering mess.”

His middle finger pushes in and out of you steadily, his thumb rolling over your clit firmly as his metal fingers sloppily wipe your lipstick off your lips and make you look as dishevelled as you feel. Your skin feels like it is on fire as his ministrations quicken, another finger gliding into you with a little too much ease and urging another moan from you. His hand is quick to cover your mouth as he gives a warning bite to the skin of your neck.

He fucking loves this, having you squirming in his hold as he makes a mess out of you, all sloppy and wet in his arms, but he needs you to be quiet if he is planning on doing this way more often without your roommates figuring it out.

“Quiet down baby.” He warns, his voice warm and barely registering in your scrambled brain as your high approaches awfully quickly “I can tell it’s good by the way you’re squeezing my fingers, no need to be so needy…”

The degrading tone does nothing to distract you from the pleasure unfurling inside of you and you grind your hips into his hand desperately, making him hum in delight and encouragement at your desperation.

His fingers move faster and curl into your deliciously, your pussy swelling around him with need as his palm has settles to rub over your clit in rough, warm circles.

Your whimpers becomes louder, even your breaths could be heard outside of your door and Bucky’s entire hand clamps around your mouth tightly, making your eyes shoot open and lock with his through the mirror.

The boyish grin he gives you almost covers up the obvious lust rolling over his sharp features and your eyes flutter at the mere sight of him behind you like that. Bucky presses his temple to yours, the eye contact he has locked you in through the reflection, making your heart almost clatter out of your chest.

“Look at me…” He rumbles and you put all your energy into trying to keep your eyes open as his fingers are so close to bringing you over the edge, you feel your knees buckle “Go on then, baby. Drench me.”

You don’t need him to tell you twice and his words instantly make you sink your tensed form into his body, his fingers rubbing inside of you as his palm adds more pressure to your clit to let your orgasm last as long as possible. Convulsing around him and trembling against his chest, you whimper loudly against his metal hand, the state he has brought you in nearly embarrassing.

“There you go.” He encourages, his voice making you drip around his fingers as your high continues to course through you “Look at that. So pretty when you come in my hands.”

The state you’re in when his fingers slow down and he pulls away from you, can only be described as wrecked. Utterly wrecked. Chest heaving, makeup smushed over your face, wild hair, blood pulsing through the surface of your skin and limbs wobbly and weak.

But you almost collapse to the floor when Bucky’s fingers disappear between his lips and satisfaction shimmers in his eyes deviously. Turning around towards him, you briefly catch him walking out and closing the door behind him, leaving you by yourself.

So trying to come to terms with what the hell just happened, you weakly attempt to sort yourself out and make it look like nothing happened -which by the lack of Bucky in your room might as well have been the case.

And with the last stroke of your hands over the hem of your dress, Bucky barges into your room again and you turn around to him, exasperated.

“Bucky, what the-”

“Take that off. That dress is not appropriate for a date.” He orders, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say he looks conflicted and tense.

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.” He seethes, his eyes darker than before.

You scoff and put your hands on your hips, raising an unimpressed brow at him. He can’t seriously think he can just walk out after making you come and then barge in to tell you that you look inappropriate. Especially not fifteen minuten prior to you leaving for your actual date.

“I am not taking this off because you want me to wear something else." You tell him like it is the most obvious thing in the world. Who the hell does he think he is?!

Bucky steps over, his entire posture intimidating the shit out of you instantly. You have definitely seen this side of him, but you never thought it would be used against you.

"No.” He spits in your direction and you cower before him “You will be taking this off so I can have my way with you. Now take. It. Off."

[daxdrabbles-deactivated20220710]

Between Your Legs

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader (SMUT)

Summary: Making your very shy boyfriend admit his kinks turns into an unexpected series of events.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: smut, smut, smut! (minors dni) cursing, size difference, overstimulation, oral sex, dom/sub undertones

(fic is two parts but i stuffed it into one so that’s why it’s long!)

Weiterlesen

[pinkandblueblurbs]

“would you write one where the reader is friends with the twins and goes on holiday to the burrow where she meets charlie and they get together?”

thank you for your request, here’s my best attempt at it :) i don’t know much abt charlie obviously so i hope i did him justice in the fandom’s eyes

Charlie Weasley x Fem!Reader Dirty talk, light teasing, fingering, blowjobs. Kinda vanilla. 

 You cannot stop staring at him from across the table. Merlin, you hope he hasn’t noticed. Fred and George are prattling on about some new product they’ve been designing, and you should really be listening like everyone else is. But all you can focus on is the curly ginger hair, the chocolate brown eyes, the freckled skin, and the strong jaw of Charlie. His looks are unmistakably Weasley yet somehow unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

Weiterlesen

[sinner-as-saint]

Back For You (Mob! Seb AU)

The Completed Series.

Mob Boss! Sebastian Stan x Reader.

Run-through: You fell for the charms of a beautiful stranger, but then you fell down the rabbit hole.

Themes: mob boss! Seb, language, SMUT, slight fluff, Daddy kink

 A/N: I will forever be a hoe for this shoot!!

“See you tomorrow, y/n. And don’t forget the back door,” your co-worker yelled as she walked out of the door. Her shift ended early today, while you still had an hour left and it was your turn to close down today.

You worked at the local pub. It was a quiet, cozy space and given it was quite a small town – not that many people visited. And those who did, were all just overworked, tired people who just needed a pint of beer or Guinness before going home to their boring lives.

You quickly glanced at the clock and it read 10:05 p.m.

Weiterlesen

[derekhaleimagines]

Taming the Rogue

Request: by @random-fandom-fangirl2112​: I was wondering if you could do a smut were the reader is a rogue wolf and has been since she was 5 and everyone thinks she’s an alpha but she’s really a beta? And one day Scott and Stiles encounter her and they’re all nervous and Derek senses their distress and shows up? You can finish it how ever you want just make it smutty please? Sorry this was so long!!!

Word count: 3068

Author’s note: I tried to depict the wolf side of the werewolves authentically, including being instinctual and the such. I hope I managed! c: I also hope you will be satisfied with how your request turned out, @random-fandom-fangirl2112​! Thank you for the amazing request ❤️

Warnings: language, smut, soft description of wounding someone

I’m running in the woods.

I can feel as the fresh, cold morning air fills my lungs with each inhale, the dry leafs and thin twigs cracking and breaking under my bare, soft paws, claws sinking into the loose earth, Sun is just barely bargaining on the horizon, painting the inky sky a pale purple. The forest is quiet, save for the few morning birds that are chirping. The taste of blood of my latest prey is seeping into my mouth.

This day is going to be the same as the others; I hunt, travel from state to state, maybe shift back to being a human like I do a couple times a year, then change back to my wolf self as soon as possible. I will watch the sunset, then sleep and repeat – as always.

By twilight, I arrive to a town which, according to the city road sign, is called Beacon Hills. I pass through the trees of the preserve in a slow, lazy strut, allowing myself to give in to the predatory instincts within me. I feel my muscles starting to buzz with renewed energy gradually, in sync with the air getting darker and darker.

I find a quiet spot in the woods and sit to allow my body to regain control over itself. After the past few days that I spent in a hustle and bustle, I crave silence and calmness around me. An owl flies to a branch of a tree near me, it creaking a little as the bird settles itself. A moment later, it begins its low humming song.

It’s nearly a full moon. The pale celestial body casts everything in a silver shade, while repressing the lights of the smaller stars surrounding it. My eyes fall closed as I give in to the serenity that engulfs me, but it’s soon destroyed by two males in the distance.

Irresponsible fury takes over me, muzzle opening on a sinister snarl, the animal side of me demanding bloodlust and carnage.

Without a second thought, I take off towards the source of the voices, paws barely making a noise in the fallen leaves as I’m approaching. I come to a halt behind a bush, ducking down, fur on my hunches straining up, that snarl still on my lips, a growl rumbling in my chest, eyes glued to the two boys. One of them suddenly puts his hand up in front of the other’s chest in order to stop him. He looks attentive, wary.

I flex my claws against the moist earth. I get ready to attack.

“Did you hear that?” he asks.

“What was I supposed to hear?” replies his friend, glancing around carelessly. He moves his flashlight along with his gaze.

“Rustling,” comes the answer. “I could have sworn I heard something.”

“Well, Scotty,” says the guy in a chatty tone. “Seems like your same ol’ senses aren’t as good as they used to be. They are playing a trick on you.”

“Stiles, this isn’t funny,” Scott chides him. “My ears have never mislead me yet.”

“It’s probably just Derek lurking around somewhere. He promised to be here soon after all.”

He still doesn’t seem to be affected by his friend’s warning. I decide it was enough of inspecting them, and now it’s time to take action – my nose scrunches up in a loud snarl before launching at them.

They both yell loudly.

“Stiles, watch out!” Scott shouts, grabbing Stiles by the arm and hauling him away from me. He nudges Stiles behind himself so that he’s the one facing me now.

“Holy Hell!” he exclaims. “I thought besides you guys there were no wolves in California any more!”

“I did, too,” Scott assures, exchanging a threatening look with me. He extends his claws, ready to protect Stiles if necessary – and who am I to let him down when he’s expecting a fight? I scoff at him, still driven by that visceral rage that took over me not long ago, then attack him.

Due to the wolf in me, I instinctively go for the ankles to try and grab him by his joint, so that I can get to his neck then, but I have to realize he has fine reflexes and swift moves, making it so much harder for me to take him down.

My wrath wells up, extends and takes control over my actions, supplying me with enough power to manage to tear at Scott’s arms, leaving deep wounds in his skin, dark blood erupting. He yelps in pain and stumbles backwards by a few steps, his eyes flashing golden and fangs elongating.

I jump towards him again, but I’m tossed to the side mid-air. I immediately roll from my side to my feet, turning around to see who prevented me from continuing the combat we’ve started.

I snarl at him, to which his response is to howl right back at me.

The sound shakes my bones, my fibres, my cells, my mind – my entire being. I tremble with the urge to give in and to just obey, but I try to ground myself in my human side so that I could maybe overcome the stupor I’m in and keep up with what I’ve gotten myself into.

However, as soon as the man realizes my intentions, noticing how my muscles are flexing under my fur, ready to attack, his eyes glow an imperative ruby red and he howls at me authoritatively with all he’s worth.

My brain goes blank, and the only thing that registers is that a weak whine dies on my lips before I collapse to the ground helplessly, dry leaves enveloping my bare skin. My bare human skin.

I’m trembling. I’m human. I’m weak. I’m vulnerable. I’m exposed. I’m helpless against the hunters. I’m ruined.

I’m human.

The next thing I know is that something warm covers me.

“She’s a werewolf?” asks Stiles, shell-shocked. “I totally thought she was an actual wolf!”

“Technically, she was,” retorts a low voice above me, tone just this side of sarcastic. Hands touch my arms through the material that wraps around my body, attempting to guide me and help me up.

“Is she an Alpha?” asks Scott.

“No,” replies the newcomer. “She wouldn’t have changed back otherwise when I roared at her.”

I allow him to move me, his palms resting on my upper arms through the leather jacket he put on me, only for me to break out of his hold abruptly, fangs and claws extending immediately.

“Leave me alone,” I snarl. My vision goes black and red, letting me know that my eyes are now glowing in their vivid icy blue colour. The two teenagers take a tentative step back, whereas the man snorts.

“Sweetheart,” he starts mockingly kindly, infuriating me more. “I don’t think you grasp the concept of who has the upper hand here.”

“Usually cocky bastards like you can do nothing besides showing off their non-existing power,” I spit out, disdain seeping into my words. He angers me with his bare presence – he angers me because he forced me to change back. A smirk appears on his face.

“Wanna test it out?”

I don’t even spare time for a verbal response – instead, I go straight for the kill, attempting to sink my claws into his chest where his important bundle of muscles is relaxing and contracting, pumping blood to provide his system.

Just before I could lay a finger on him, he vanishes from my sight. Then apart from a sharp pain at the back of my head, there is nothing but black void pulling me down into a dark abyss.

. o O o .

I wake up several hours later. I can hear soft noises filtering through the ajar door that leads to the bedroom I’m laying in. I notice that I was dressed at some point while I was unconscious – now I’m wearing an oversized T-shirt and a thong. I’m not used to being dressed any more, having spent the majority of my years in wolf shape.

I creep out of the bed and start a mute beeline for the front door to leave. I sneak out through the door, finding myself on an aisle. It’s dark, but my vision is perfect during nighttime as well, so it isn’t an obstacle for me.

I sneak towards the stairs and descend them, but before I could land a bare foot on those that lead to the heavy-looking metal entrance, a voice startles me.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Fuck you,” I shoot back, not even turning around. I choose to ignore the guy – he’s not a freaking royalty offspring, dammit –, and walk up to the door to escape, but I’m yanked back down from the second step. He turns me around harshly, aggressively hauling my body as though I were a doll that he can play around with as he pleases.

“I was expecting at least an attempt to kill me by way of thanking me for dressing you up,” he grits out through his teeth, looking positively fuming.

“I didn’t ask for it,” I point out, trying to wriggle my wrist free with no success; his fingers are as good as metal vises curling firmly around me. “Let go.”

“I’m not letting you go,” he says sternly. “I’m not going to allow you to go on a killing spree on my territory.”

“Oh, how protective of you,” I roll my eyes mockingly.

“Clearly you have behavioural issues,” he assesses. “You Omega have no idea how to show respect to an Alpha.”

“I see someone isn’t used to being ignored,” I singsong with a wicked smirk.

To wipe it off of my face, he shoves me into the wall. I yelp as the harsh collision knocks my breath out of me, and I find myself face to face with his scarlet glowing eyes. I flash mine at him in return.

“Won’t you ever learn your manners?” he growls at me.

“Not for you,” I whisper, kicking his legs to toss him off-balance and then pushing him away from me with my free hand. I manage to drive my foot into his side before he could catch up to me. The next time, however, he catches my leg and shoves it to the side. Instead of falling to my back, I make a somersault backwards, pushing myself up with my arms to stand again.

He immediately makes an attempt to sink his claws into my sides, but I get away from him by twirling a couple times, getting behind him and granting myself a clear shot of his vulnerable neck. I grab him, making sure the tips of my claws are biting his skin, only to throw him to the ground. Without missing a beat, I step on his chest to keep him plastered to the floor.

I smirk down at him, arching a brow, hands on my hips.

“Are you giving up yet?” I ask, rubbing my toe to his shirt in a cocky tease.

“Never,” he replies, taking a hold of my ankle and pulling at it, making me fall down onto his body. Instantly, I position myself to be sure I’m still the one being in charge – which means I’m straddling his pelvis. When his palms find my hips, a fuzzy hotness starts coiling up in my belly, urging me to unconsciously bite at my lower lip.

That, and the sudden spike in my scent inevitably chases out a reaction from him; his hands start rubbing at my skin, massaging it tantalizingly slowly, inviting my pelvis to dance along with them – and it does as I set up a slow roll with it, bracing myself against strong shoulders under me.

Our breathing is elevating, sighs coming out gradually louder, hearts starting to beat faster. I can almost hear as his blood is rushing through his veins, flowing south rapidly. I can’t help the small noise that leaves my lips as I grind down against him, feeling his developing erection nudging me.

“Holy –” he mumbles, voice barely above a whisper. Partially out of being turned on, partially out of craving payback, I allow my claws to sink into his sculpted shoulders, earning myself a hiss of pain from him. Dark stains of blood spread crawling in his shirt in a deformed circle around my fingertips, but he doesn’t care about it, just growls at me before tearing the material over his head.

“As obnoxious as you are, I gotta admit you’re hot as fuck,” I compliment, making a slow drag with my middle against his. He groans at the feeling, claws elongating, too.

“You have a pretty nice body yourself,” he says in return, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

“And what if you don’t get to see it again, baby?” I breathe into his mouth, just barely touching his pink flesh with mine. As soon as he tries to catch my lips in a kiss, I draw my head back, smiling down at him wickedly. I arch a brow. “Did you honestly think I’m that easy to seduce?”

“Stop teasing me, or I’ll have to take the initiative,” he says.

“Oh? You sound like I’d actually let you do that,” I comment, dragging my index finger down in a slow tease in the valley in the middle of his upper body which is dividing his pectorals and abs, going dangerously low. His jeans are riding low, granting me a clear shot of his black boxer briefs he’s wearing underneath. The two veins leading into his underwear are prominent and impossible not to notice. He makes a needy noise in the back of his throat.

I reach under myself, cupping his rapidly hardening erection in my hand through his pants, to which his response is to buck against my hand.

“Holy freaking shit, just –” he rasps. I lean down to whisper into his ear seductively, fingers flexing on him, “What, baby? What do you want me to do?”

Out of the blue, his eyes seep into their illuminated scarlet colour, his fangs elongating as he flips us over in a sudden surge of renewed power. I make a surprised noise as my body is moved – but he’s still not satisfied with having me under him; he also twirls me around to lay me on my belly.

When I turn my head to make a comment or two at the change in position, he murmurs, “Shut up” into my skin, even before I could get one sound out, leaving biting kisses and stinging nips all over my jaw, neck, and cheek, chasing out a whine from me. My inner wolf is loving this treatment.

On raw instinct, to try and seduce the male on me, I push my ass up to rub it against his bulge, letting my claws out and dragging them down along the floor under me, leaving ten lines there.

The next moment, I can feel him fumbling with his jeans, quickly ridding himself of them, pulling me flush to him with a palm spread over my lower belly. His hand starts inching up on my stomach, taking the T-shirt with it, soon finding my breast and kneading the soft flesh, making me whine wantonly. His length is poking me, only the thong and his briefs dividing our skins from the desired contact.

He begins rutting against me, his groans, pants and faltering breaths all directed into my ear, hotness spreading my insides.

“Do it, dammit, or I swear to God I’m going to claw your eyes out,” I growl, need taking over me. He snickers against my shoulder, still covered by the tee he put on me, before shoving his briefs down and away, doing the same with my thong.

“See, you can submit, you just gotta be tamed accordingly,” he husks into my ear. I snarl at him, but it ends up morphing into a needy moan instead of a threat when he fills me in one swift, hard thrust.

He cages my body; my chest is squeezed to the ground, ass raised, claws digging into the floor as I can do nothing but fucking take it, meeting all his punishing pushes, back arching, his voice in my ear asking, “Will you submit to me now?” to which my response is to bare my neck involuntarily, signing submission.

His teeth sink into my flesh, sucking a massive lovebite into the surface, making me cry out in a high-pitched tone. His arms are bracketing me on both sides, his hot exhales lavishing over my back, burning me as though lava were licking over my nerves.

“Say my name,” he grunts in a low tone. “I want you to say my name as you cum.” My lips part to tease him, but he finishes with, “Derek. Say it when you come.”

Derek reaches down to rub tight circles around my clit, multiplying my pleasure. I shake violently as my orgasm hits me abruptly and intensely, crying out his name like he wished for, pulling him right in with me to white oblivion when I clamp around him, his fingers entwining with mine as both of our nails leave marks in the ground.

He drags his tongue up on the side of my neck, rolling his hips against mine a couple more times, making me bite my lip at the sensation, eyes fluttering closed. Derek then pulls out of me as soon as we’ve ridden out our highs, only to carry me over to his bed where he lays me down and scoots in next to me, covering us with the blanket. I don’t understand why he does this, but I let him – I merely want to wait until he’s asleep so that I can sneak away.

The fact that he has a strong arm wrapped around me is a factor that makes my plan a tad harder to implement, but I’m determined to carry it out anyway.

As soon as Derek’s breathing is slow and evened out, I squirm out of his hold. I take off the T-shirt he gave me, then I tiptoe my way over to the metal door, sliding it open carefully, trying to make the least amount of noises awhile.

I barely shut it behind me before my body morphs back into that of a wolf’s and I take off into the night.

[my-emotional-self]

Updated Mobile Masterlist

*=Mild Smut

**=Smut

Crowded

Press Tour Distraction **

Welcome Home **

Pancakes

The Talk

Addicted

I Need You

Happy

Poke Wars

I’m Sorry

Drinking

Say Something

The Party **

Boston

Kinky **

Tickles and Kisses

Study Break

The Adoption

Just Friends?

The Actor and The Photographer

     Part 2

     Part 3

Really Chris? **

Stop Lying

The Bodyguard

First Christmas

Give It Back **

Princess **

Yes Captain **

Not So Sneaky **

Movie Night Teasing **

Falling

The Storm

Truth or Dare Gone Right

     Part 2

     Part 3

     Part 4 **

Harbinger of Doom

     Part 2

     Part 3 *

     Part 4

     Part 5

     Part 6 **

     Part 7

Pretending **

Baking Party **

Pranks and Tickles **

Don’t Cry

Hurt **

Be Careful

Past and Future

Cold as Ice

Training Session **

Yes Daddy **

Over

Not Good Enough

Salty and Sweet

Feelings

The Truth

     Part 2 **

It Takes Three **

Derek Hale x Reader

I’ve Got You **

Stiles x Reader

I Like You **

Negan x Reader

Feelings

Daryl x Reader

First Fight

The Kiss

First Snowfall

Erudite to Dauntless **

     Part 2 **

Rescued

Save Me **

The Confession

Mr. Creepy

The Viking and The Star

     Part 2

     Part 3

     Part 4

     Part 5

     Part 6

     Part 7 *

     Part 8

     Part 9

A Perfect Gentleman **