navy, thank you so much for sending this!! all I'm saying is - I am obsessed with this man. so is reader in this fic..... but we all know reader is all of us 🥵
taste
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word count: 731 words
Tags/warnings: porn without plot; established relationship (bucky & reader are married); explicit sexual content; finger licking/sucking; oral sex (m!receiving), descriptions of bodily fluids (sweat/taste of sweat);
Notes: dividers by me
Everyone knows that there are several undeniable perfect matches when it comes to flavors. Dark chocolate and raspberries. Caramel and salt. Cinnamon and apples. Even if they don’t quite always match everyone’s taste (no combination ever really does), there is a universal agreement that they fit together.
Your tastes are always a little out of the ordinary, though. Delighting yourself in the taste of your boyfriend’s sweat after a workout, tongue lapping at the skin of his chest when he comes home from the gym. There’s no shame between the two of you, much less over something that brings you pleasure. Bucky would offer anything he could to you; all you had to do was ask.
And ask you did, the first time you saw him in a grey shirt, sticking to his abs and chest, small wet patches formed in the fabric. You thought you were insane for wanting him like this; he made you feel like it was normal to want that much. The musk and salt became a taste you’ve come to crave, a secret only you are privy to.
But your palate for Bucky Barnes is not so singular. It shifts with moments. Moods.
Like last week, on your wedding anniversary. He came home bearing a small box, inside of which nestled fresh strawberries, each one hand-dipped in chocolate. You didn’t need to ask for anything this time; he fed them to you, one by one, fingers lingering at your lips whenever the chocolate melted against his skin so you could wrap your mouth around them and lick them clean. Decadent. The dominant flavor was him, always him, the taste of his thoughtfulness, of him remembering the important things. It’s the taste of his love that always lasts on your taste buds, sweeter than any food.
Then there are days like today, when the wind outside has a vicious bite to it and the world feels sterile and cold—excepthere. Here, in your living room, with him sitting on your couch, his legs spread, pants halfway down to his feet, vibranium hand in your hair. He hadn’t asked. A part of him still doubts that he’s truly deserving of you, of the warmth you provide by simply existing near him, but the look you give him every hour of every day is enough to wipe those questions away.
Bucky is already hard under your gaze, and you take him into your mouth slowly, the taste overwhelming you immediately in the best way. And this is where you feel right at home, giving him pleasure with the same enthusiasm he always gives you. Like maybe you could live between his legs, with his cock in your mouth, if he just let you. He’s warm against your tongue, his cock twitching as you swallow him deep. Your tongue traced the vein across his length and then twirled around the sensitive ridge of his head.
His vibranium fingers tighten in your hair, not pressuring (never pushing), but rather finding a grounding point. You can feel the tension coiling in his thighs, hear the soft hitch in his breath as you take him deeper, your nose brushing against the coarse hair at his base. You hollow your cheeks, drawing a groan from his chest that vibrates through you, a sound more satisfying than any symphony. That sound has a taste, too. One you can’t help but to relish in.
You pull back slowly, your tongue tracing every vein and contour on your retreat, until just the tip rests against your lips. You look up at him, eyes locking with his. In this moment, you see all of him: the vulnerable boy from Brooklyn, the deadly soldier, the gentle man who buys you chocolate-dipped strawberries. And you know, with a certainty that settles deep in your bones, that this is where you’re meant to be.
When you dive back down, taking him with a renewed fervor, your hand comes up to cup his heavy balls, rolling them gently, and his hips buck up to meet your mouth. The taste of him floods your senses, a unique blend of salt and skin and—well, him. It’s the taste of home and safety, of a love etched into your very soul, and as you feel him begin to pulse against your tongue, you know you’ve found the most perfect flavor pairing of all.
warnings: Established relationship. Slight exhibitionistic kink. Oral (m receiving).
Sam grumbled in his sleep. You suppressed a giggle. Steve shot you a warning glare.
It was good Sam was the one with you on the short data retrieval mission. If it was Bucky, he’d be instantly alerted and awakened by the split of a second dip of the quinjet. Sam slept through that.
Steve’s reflexes were fast, hence immediate readjustment of the plane’s position. They wouldn’t be needed if his self-control was immune to your wandering hands.
“Put the quinjet on autopilot,” you whisper, squeezing his thigh a tad harder.
Finding and dismantling the zipper in Captain’s tactical suit was no hardship at this point - you had plenty of practice. Getting him out quickly, driven by your mutual need post adrenaline spiked missions.
“Bad girl.” Steve grits out, but flips the control panel.
“Yeah, yeah, you can punish me later,” you huff, slipping your hand into his pants and wrapping it around him.
Steve hisses, hips bucking up. He adjusts his position, spreading his thighs and tugging on the fabric of his suit to give you more room. With your other hand, you unbuckle your seatbelt and bend over.
You hum in contentment at the salty, creamy taste of him. Feeling Steve inside you - in any way possible - provided a sense of bliss. As if his cock became a source of comfort and safety. Perhaps, that’s why you liked cockwarming him so much.
With Steve’s hand resting on the back of your head and pushing you lower, your jaw relaxed around him, allowing him deeper to the back of your throat.
“Swallow around it,” Steve commands. “Then suck. We don’t have time right now, you can drool all over it for hours once we’re back home.”
Hey, Cait! If you could pick one fictional man to kidnap you here and now, who would it be and why? 😏
oh navy that is such a difficult question 😭 i’d be fine with anyone on my masterlist kidnapping me, but at this very moment? i’m gonna have to go with jack abbot.
one, because i just adore him as a person. two, because he’s beautiful. three, because he’s a veteran and a doctor and likely has decent health insurance and my health insurance sucks and i need him to add me to his plan cause ya girl is going through it right now 😩 and he definitely makes great money so health insurance aside he could just pay for anything i need.
also, he’s caring and empathetic and intelligent and hot.
Hi Navy! I'd love to! From the upcoming Rogers Academy Lloyd story:
He shrugged like none of this mattered as he came out from behind his desk. You slid a few feet down the wall in the opposite direction, trying to keep as much distance between you as you could. “It is while you’re here,” he said, calmly. “See, the whole point of this place is to make you a brand new version of yourself. Whoever we want you to be. And that starts with your name. Besides, I think Princess will suit you by the time I’m done.”
Hey, Rach! If you could pick one fictional man to kidnap you here and now, who would it be and why? 😏
I have one fictional character in mind that would absolutely kidnap me and I’d be okay with it, but they’re made up in my own head.
So, to answer the question……I’m thinking these guys.
Cause I just know they’d treat a girl right, ya know? Plus, they’re my first loves. I can’t really resist them. Put on any of their numerous charms and I’d be a goner. No complaints. Heck, I’d hop in the trunk and offer my hands for the restraints.
Hey, Chelsea! If you could pick one fictional man to kidnap you here and now, who would it be and why? 😏
Sigh
I wish I could say “wow this was so hard”
But I really don’t want to lie to you Navy! 🤣
It’s without a shadow of a doubt this guy
BUT I HAVE VERY GOOD REASONS!
Check it out below the cut 😏
1. Lloyd is loaded. Like uber rich, like he’s got people to deal with people rich. So I know if I want something this man is ready to just lay down the cash to get it for me. Listen, I may not be overly materialistic, but to know that I could get that new thing just because. Amazing. Sold. Sign me the fuck up.
2. Lloyd’s an asshole, yes, sure. But he’s gonna be soft, just for the woman he loves (could I be wrong about this, sure. But it’s my fantasy, and he is because I say he is)
3. This man is gonna be wild in bed. He’s gonna figure out every single thing that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head. But also, he knows what he likes! Which means no guessing game of oh no I hope he likes this.
4. If there’s one thing I love about Lloyd it’s the fact that he’s honest. Somewhat brutally, but he’s honest about his feelings, his anger, his pettiness. There’s no facade, you get what you get.
5. I know I’ll always be safe. If there’s one thing that Lloyd does not put up with it’s people taking/touching what’s his. He’ll walk into hell just to get you back without a second thought for himself.
6. He throws ridiculous tantrums. Now I know what you’re thinking. “Chelsea, you have a small child, why oh why do you want to put up with a man throwing tantrums.” And the answer is: I’m such a brat I love pushing a man’s buttons. And he would be the absolute most fun to play with.
7. I’m pretty sure he’s tatted up under all those prim and proper clothes, which just has me 🫦. Like, please sir let me trace those with my tongue 😏
I’m sure there’s more reasons but this is definitely what came to mind first!
Thanks for bringing Lloyd to me Navy, you know how much I love him 🥰
Hey, Angel! If you could pick one fictional man to kidnap you here and now, who would it be and why? 😏
is anyone here gonna be mad if i say Jack Abbot🫣🫣
LISTEN !! i have horrible knees and he's a doctor !! he can fix my problems and prescribe me pain medicine that's not just 800 mg of ibuprofen !! the fact that he's a silver fox and that he's competent and caring and i wanna bite his tits is just a bonus !!
warnings: domestic fluff, referenced smut (not really 18+ but i'd always rather minors do not interact!), kissing, little bit of dry humping, non-graphic sex, pet names (sunshine)
word count: 1,500ish
a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt Navy!!! i have no excuse for this except i just think starting a vegetable garden with ari would be neat 🤷🏼♀️ this is so so so so self-indulgent but i hope y'all enjoy ♡♡
You were surprised by how good it felt to get your hands dirty, your fingers sinking into the rich soil as you scooped some up and patted it down around the tomato seedling you’d just planted. Sitting back on your heels, you looked down the row of tomatoes you’d finished planting, a sense of accomplishment settling deep into your body and making you smile to yourself.
But it seemed you weren’t the only one to take pride in your efforts, as a warm, familiar voice called, “Lookin’ good, sunshine,” from the other side of the small vegetable garden you and your husband had set up in your backyard.
Lifting your eyes from the row of tomato seedlings you’d carefully planted, your gaze collided with that of your husband, Ari Levinson, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling in the bright spring sunshine. His grin was wide as he used a hand to push his golden brown hair back from his face, pride and affection shining in his gaze as he looked at you.
Your smile widened in return, and you raised a hand to shade your eyes so you could see his progress. “How’re the herbs coming?” you asked, your eyes skimming along the basil, rosemary and mint you’d decided to plant. They were in their own planter boxes to ensure they didn’t overrun the garden, and it looked like your husband was done with the task. “They look good.”
You’d never had a vegetable garden before—at least, not one of your own. Your grandmother had one when you were little, your father taking you into the impressively large garden to show you where they’d planted spinach and tomatoes and green beans and rhubarb.
But with that garden long since gone and both your grandmother and father having passed, you’d told Ari you wanted to try your hand at growing some veggies of your own. Your husband had been excited to try it, even though he had less experience than you.
But he’d jumped into it as eagerly as you, digging up a little plot in your backyard and setting up a fence so that the animals didn’t get to your herbs and veggies. The garden was bigger than the meager crop you’d decided to plant that first year—just the herbs, your tomatoes and some spinach—but Ari said the two of you would grow into it.
“Do they look as good as your husband?” Ari asked teasingly, drawing you out of your thoughts and back into the moment.
You couldn’t help but smile as you got to your feet, brushing your hands off on your shorts and picking your way across the garden to your husband. You bent down to look at the planter boxes, making a show of assessing his work in planting the herbs. When you’d drawn it out long enough, you stood back up and looked to your husband, having to stifle a laugh when you saw he’d somehow managed to get streaks of dirt across his forehead.
“They look better than you,” you said, barely contained laughter making your voice waver as you reached up and tried to brush the dirt from Ari’s forehead, asking, “How did you manage to get dirt here?” However, since your hands were also covered in dirt, you only managed to make things worse. Ari laughed at your wince of apology.
“I think you’ve got a little something, too,” he said playfully, brushing his dirty fingers over the tip of your nose. You were certain you didn’t have any dirt on your nose, which meant he’d just gotten you dirty for no good reason.
Gasping in mock outrage, you jumped back as he reached for your face again, knocking his hand away. “Don’t get me more dirty than I already am!” you cried, but you were laughing as you fended off your husband’s filthy, reaching hands.
You danced around the garden, trying to avoid Ari and your plants, but after a few moments, you decided to go on the offensive. “Let’s see how you like getting dirty!” you yelled, darting close to your husband and swiping your fingers across Ari’s cheek, leaving behind a new streak of dirt above the line of his beard.
However, Ari didn’t let you escape, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and hauling you up against his chest. “Do your worst, sunshine,” he challenged, laughing right along with you.
Since his hands were busy holding onto you and yours were free, you brushed even more dirt on his cheeks, giggling as you got him even dirtier. But it wasn’t long before your giggles died down and the two of you were left pressed against one another, your chests heaving as you caught your breath and stared into each other’s eyes.
You could feel your body warming, which seemed to be a natural reaction to your husband’s closeness, your nipples tightening and heat sinking low to settle in your core. Squirming in Ari’s arms, you could feel your expression change, your eyes turning pleading as an aching need built up in your body.
“Stop looking at me like that, sunshine,” Ari rumbled, a gruff warning in his tone. You could feel his body responding to you, his arousal digging into your belly and making your legs tremble beneath you. “Or I’m liable to take you right here—garden be damned.”
Ari’s words sent new tendrils of heat curling through your body, even as they knocked some sense into you and you managed a playful gasp, pressing a hand to your chest as you pretended to be scandalized. “Not in front of the plants, Ari,” you scolded, your tone more flirtatious than chastising.
Your husband grinned, squeezing you tighter, and ducked down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that had you melting against his chest. Your fingers dove into Ari’s beard, clinging to him and holding him close while you devoured each other. When you whimpered into the kiss and rocked your body against Ari’s bulge, he pulled away with a groan.
“Sunshine,” he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours and drawing in deep, heavy breaths that pushed his chest against yours in the most delicious way. “If you don’t want our little seedlings exposed to our dirty deeds so early in their lives, you’re gonna have to let me take you inside now,” he murmured in a serious tone, but you could see the corners of his mouth flickering with his need to grin. “Because the idea of seeing you blissed out and satisfied in the garden we made is sounding better by the second.”
“Then take me inside, husband,” you said huskily, a smirk tugging at the edges of your lips, “because you are not fucking me the dirt.”
Wrapping one of his hands around the back of your neck, Ari held you still while he kissed you again, his tongue plundering your mouth until your mind was fuzzy and you’d mostly forgotten where you were. You knew that had been Ari’s intention when his lips trailed along your jaw, nipping and kissing your skin until his mouth brushed the edge of your ear.
“What if I made love to you in the grass?” he rumbled teasingly, bending down to grab your leg and hitch it over his hip so he could press his bulge into the apex of your thighs. His grunt was loud in your ear, but it didn’t drown out the low, filthy moan that slipped from your lips.
Still, you weren’t so far gone that you’d let Ari have his way with you just anywhere. “What about the shower?” you countered, your voice high-pitched and breathy, making your husband chuckle as he kissed down your neck.
Then you were shrieking in surprise and delight as Ari hauled you off your feet and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you into the house to finish what you’d started. He took you in the shower, the two of you laughing as much as you kissed, taking turns washing the grime of dirt from each other’s skin before sinking into the familiar rhythm of your bodies coming together.
Later, when you were both sated and clean and the sun was sinking lower toward the horizon, you stood in the grass outside the fence of your humble little vegetable garden. Ari stood at your back, his arms circling your waist and holding you close as you both took pride in the work you’d accomplished that day.
“Do you think we’ll be good first-time plant parents?” you asked softly, your fingers trailing idly through the hair on Ari’s arms. Tilting your head to the side, you wondered if you’d watered the newly transplanted seedlings enough to make the transition easier for them.
“I think we’ll do our best,” Ari murmured, curling his body around yours and pressing a kiss to your temple while he squeezed you tighter in his arms. “I think we’ll give them all the love they need, and I think they’ll flourish because of it.”
A pleased smile curved your lips and you hummed in agreement, leaning back further against Ari, knowing your husband spoke the truth. After all, you’d done the same with each other—you’d given each other all the love in your hearts and both of you had flourished. Ari was your partner, your husband, the love of your life, and you wouldn’t want to be first-time plant parents with anyone but him.
