#of Stark Tower top floors
Text
Push him
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Avenger! Bucky Barnes x PR manager! Reader
Summary: When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you.
Word count: 6.8K
Warnings: smut, bucky is obsessed with your short skirts, bucky is recovering, grumpy x sunshine, good friend natasha romanoff, office sex, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names
Author's note: ‼️so if you haven't seen my previous post, this is my new account. you may have seen this work on my old one (@inmyicyworld) but it was terminated and @support doesn't respond to me. please, follow and share this work. I'm going to reupload all of my old fanfics and hope to get your support ❤️
The work at the Avengers Tower wasn’t what you expected it to be. Tony Stark found you while you were working for another company a little bit more than a month ago. He was amazed by the way you were dealing with problems, by your charisma, and by your ability to find a common language with everyone. That’s how he knew that he had to have you as his partner and a part of the team.
The next day, you got a call directly from Tony, asking you to quit your job and accept his offer to work as Avenger’s PR manager. It would be an understatement to say that your jaw dropped to the floor when you heard your salary.
He said that you were totally worth it and that working with a group of such different people was not easy, but he was sure that you would be perfect at this. So on that exact day, you decided to take a risk and accept the challenge.
One thing that you hated about your previous job was the strict dress code. It was simply far from your style because you hated wearing the same basic and boring clothes every day. Tony said that it was the last thing that he cared about, and in that building, no one was obligated to wear certain clothes.
You knew that it was your lucky ticket.
He was actually really friendly and funny in person. You talked a lot during your first day while he was showing you all the necessary places in the tower: your office, his lab, common rooms and kitchens, avenger’s rooms, and even a beautiful garden on the roof. By the way, Tony allowed you to decorate your office however you wanted and gave you the number of the person who was responsible for this.
In short, it was perfect.
You were giddy with excitement on your first actual day of work. According to the plan, you had to meet with the Avengers and then arrange a few meetings for Tony.
It felt like you spent hours before your mirror deciding what to wear. Your whole room was a mess, and when you finally completed your look, which consisted of a short black skirt, beige long sleeve and a brown leather jacket on top, it was already time to go.
Everyone in the room heard you before they saw you because of the sound of your heels clicking on the wood floor.
“Don’t tell me that this is our PR manager, Stark.” Black Widow looked you up and down with a smirk on her face. “You look good, hun. Finally, someone with a taste in this boring group of losers, besides me and Wanda, of course.”
“Hi.” You nicely smiled, not ready to get a compliment as soon as you stepped into the room.
“Ohh, she’s also the sweet one.” Another red-headed woman, Wanda, said with a smile.
“You both, shut up.” Tony stood up from the armchair with a pack of chips in one hand and threw the other one over your shoulder. “Want some?” He asked you, showing the food, but you slightly shook your head. “Whatever… Now, you all listen here, this is Y/N; she’s our new PR manager. I stole her from someone because she’s incredibly smart and good at her job. Starting from this moment, she’s going to cover up your asses and organize all this stupid media stuff.” You blushed at his words but were still silent. “So, this is Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Bucky, and Th—wait, you already know them, right?”
“Yeah, of course I do.” You chuckled. “By the way, it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope we can work together, and I will have a chance to be helpful.” You took a look at all the Avengers in the room, and everyone looked at you with a smile except one person, whose eyes sent shivers down your spine.
When you looked at Bucky, you saw that his eyes were scanning your body with an unreadable expression, and you suddenly felt really weird in your short skirt. Your eyes met, and his famous death stare was really quite scary. He didn’t like you? You two were staring at each other for a few seconds, and you believe that the rest of the team noticed it because Steve loudly cleared his throat to get your attention.
He asked you a few questions about you, and Clint and Sam made a few jokes. Everything was fine as you all chatted for a little bit until Tony said that everyone should get ready for tomorrow’s mission, and you too have a lot to do.
You went back to your office only with the thought that, during this whole time, Bucky was staring at you like he wanted to burn a hole in your head.
Later that day, Bucky was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of already-cold coffee while Steve was making himself dinner. It was quiet besides the sound of the cooking food, or at least Bucky didn’t listen to Steve’s words because he was too deep in his thoughts.
Well, he was mostly thinking about you and his mixed feelings about this interaction. As soon as you walked into the room, you had his whole attention. He couldn’t help but stare at your body, at your open legs, and at your smiley face. He knew that he sounded like a total creep and that it was inappropriate to look at other people this way, but he had never seen women dress this way. Was it normal right now? Was it new fashion trends or something? The only women that he had been interacting with for the past few years were women from Wakanda, and in the tower it was mostly Nat and Wanda, and he had never seen them dress like that. Or, at least, he just didn’t care enough to notice it.
When he saw you today, he felt something in him, and he didn’t like that feeling. It was something new, something that he had never experienced before, but his body became tense and his stomach tightened. It was weird.
“What, you're still trying to process her?” He was distracted from his thoughts by Sam, who came to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge. Bucky looked at him and furrowed his brows when he saw a shitty smirk.
“What the fuck are you talking about? And why are you smiling like an idiot?” Bucky growled.
“Because you’re thinking about Y/N.” His words caught Steve’s attention, and he came closer.
“That’s why you two were staring at each other like that?” Steve said this while drying his hands with a towel. “Do you like her? I think she seems cute.”
“No, I don’t. She just looks... different.”
“Oh, the old man got excited by the beautiful woman and her short skirt.” Sam’s smile got even wider as he started teasing Bucky. “You know, I wanted to ask her out, but I can take a step back if you like her.” He leaned on the table so he could get under Bucky’s skin even more.
“I do not like her.”
“So you’re okay if I ask her out? Maybe I should go to her office right now.” Sam pretended like he was really thinking about this.
“Sam...” Steve said.
“You both are just getting on my fucking nerves.” Bucky’s chair almost fell to the floor when he angrily stood up. “Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care about you or her.” With these words, he stormed out of the room, and Sam started to laugh out loud.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” Steve shook his head like a disappointed mother whose kids always fight.
“That was fun, and maybe it’ll push him to ask her out. She’s hot, but not my type; I’m just trying to help this idiot.”
You have been working with the Avengers for over a month now. This work was literally a dream from any angle. You were making a lot of money, doing the job that you really liked, and found a lot of close friends.
Almost everyone on the team was very close to you. Natasha and Wanda were particularly your best friends. Sam was the funniest person you’ve ever met, and he always found time to tease you or to make a compliment. Bruce and Clint were like your uncles—a little bit old and annoying, but always with a piece of advice for you. A few times, you and Steve met at the gym when you came to work too early, so he was happy to train with you. Who would’ve thought that Captain America himself would teach you how to throw a punch?
The only pain in your ass was Bucky Barnes. Well, to be fair, he didn’t do anything. You’re not even sure that you heard his voice. He was always just staring. Any time that you came to the room and he was there, you either saw him from the corner of your eyes or felt his burning gaze on your back.
To this day, you had no problems with your job. You organized a few interviews for Tony and Steve, talked to the newspapers and magazines, and held some meetings, but right now, sitting on your white chair, you felt weirdly nervous.
Bucky had to come here any minute to talk about a recent accident. Apparently, he almost knocked out someone on the street. All the press and news sources were taking advantage of the situation and using loud headlines to cast a shadow on Bucky and get more views. “The Winter Soldier is back?”. “The Winter Soldier almost killed an innocent man on the street.”
It has been the biggest topic on the internet for the past few hours. Most of the people were furious and wrote too many inappropriate and rude things. So you asked FRIDAY to call Bucky so you could know the whole situation and give comments to the press as soon as possible.
You started thinking about what you should do, or, to be more honest, how to behave around Bucky, because a few days ago two red-headed women that you now considered your best friends assured you that he is in love with you and just doesn't know what to do with it.
You told them everything about his weird actions—that he always looked at you, checked your clothes, and stayed silent. Natasha and Wanda just looked at each other with smirks on their faces.
“Why are you looking at each other like that?” You arched an eyebrow and crossed your hands across your chest.
“Please, don't tell me that you don't understand his behavior.” Natasha looked at you and sipped her coffee.
Well, I wouldn’t have asked you if I knew the reason.”
“Honey, he lust likes you and thinks that you’re hot. You remember that he’s actually an old man, right? Women from his time didn’t dress like that, and you look really sexy.” Wanda’s words made Nat nod her head as you looked weirdly at both of them.
“That’s bullshit, Wanda. This can’t be true. I'm sure that he just doesn’t like me and thinks that I look too revealing. Or he just hadn’t had a girlfriend in a long time.”
“Some time ago, I came to the kitchen at like 2 a.m. just in my lingerie because I thought everyone was asleep. Barnes was sitting there with a book, and you know what? He just said “Hi” and didn’t even look at me again while I was making a sandwich. And when he sees you, he just can’t take his eyes away and stares like an idiot.”
You stayed silent, thinking about the girls' words, because everything seemed pretty reasonable.
“And what should I do?”
“I don’t know, seduce him or something.” Natasha just casually said it, and your eyebrows flew to your hairline.
“Wait, do you like him?” Wanda asked you, and Natasha huffed like it was obvious.
“I mean… he’s beautiful. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him, but Steve and Sam love him, and I trust their opinion.” You stopped trying to put together your thoughts. “To be honest, sometimes I think about the fact that he’s probably one of the hottest people I’ve ever seen. When we studied history at school, all the girls fell in love with America's Boy, and I with his best friend.”
“Then don’t wait. Just give him some hints, because I swear, for the ladies’ man, he’s too slow.” Natasha’s words made you smile. “Try to get closer to him; I don’t know, flash him with your boobs and look at the reaction. Push him a little bit. He’ll break.”
The loud knock on the door almost made you jump out of your chair.
“Come in.” You said this as you stood up and fixed your white dress and cardigan.
Bucky came probably to the lightest and most cozy room in the whole tower. A lot of white and pastel colors, comfy sofa and armchairs, and paintings on the wall. And in the middle of this was you—always perfectly looking, in heels, in a too-short dress, and with a smile on your face. He couldn't stop himself from looking at the smooth skin of your legs. It’s probably so soft...
“Em– Hi.” You awkwardly stood while his eyes were scanning your body. He didn’t answer; he just nodded. “So I think that we can sit there, it’s more comfortable.” You wave your hand at the sofa with a fluffy cover on it. “Do you want anything? Tea, coffee, water, soda?” Bucky just shook his head while he was trying to comfortably sit with a frown on his face.
You deeply inhaled while trying to be a professional. You didn’t know what was wrong with this man, but his behavior started to get on your nerves.
“Bucky, we can’t work together if you keep ignoring me. You can say if you don’t like something, because I don’t want to be on bad terms with anyone.” You sat across from him and crossed your legs.
“I don’t know what I should say.” His deep voice filled the room. Bucky took a pillow that was lying near him and started playing with the fringe. “I feel weird when I’m around you, and I don’t like it. I have thoughts that I shouldn’t have.” His eyes scanned your body once again, and you wondered if he was talking about what you thought.
“Can I do something to change it?”
“No.” He deeply inhaled. “It’s my own problem, and it’s not your job to try to fix it. Anyway, why am I here?”
“I think you know why. I need to ask you about the recent incident because I have a meeting with the press in less than an hour, and I have to give them a good reason why you did that. People didn’t take all that information too well.” You saw that Bucky sadly smiled and looked you directly in the eyes, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “So, tell me what’s happened.”
“You know that whatever you say won’t change people’s opinions about me, right? No one forgave me, and they’re still looking for a chance to call me a murderer.” He tried to hide behind a smile, but you saw everything written in his eyes. Bucky hurt himself with his own words.
“I understand how you feel about this whole situation, but we should address all those rumors because things might get worse.” You leaned on your knees with your hands, and Bucky’s eyes immediately fell on your boobs.
Push him a little bit. He’ll break.
You tried to hold back a smirk.
“Fuck.” He mumbled. “ I– um– I was walking from the coffee shop to the tower. It was another busy street with hundreds of people, but I still didn’t expect someone to touch me. That man jumped on my back or something, and my instincts just worked. I threw him over myself on the ground and put a hand on his throat. Turned out he wanted to take a picture. But I panicked because there are many people who want to take revenge and who might want to do it literally any second. I’m always ready for this.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but you could hear the pain in his voice.
You felt deeply sorry for the man before you. Even if he was cold and acted weird around you, you knew that it was his way to protect himself. After everything he came through, you couldn’t blame him.
“Do you still go to the therapist?” You gently asked.
“Yes, two times a week.” Bucky nervously ran his right hand through his hair while still holding your pillow in the metal one.
“Okay, that’s good; I can work with this information.” You nodded and reached for your journal on the coffee table. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Bucky. I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to convince people that it was not your fault, okay?”
“Thank you, Y/N.” Bucky stood up, carefully putting your pillow in its place, and left your office without another word, while you were sitting there with a smile.
Maybe the girls were right.
After that day, everything between you and Bucky became even weirder. Yes, he wasn’t totally silent now, and you’ve got a few “Hi”, but his stares felt different.
It was like you two were playing some kind of game. Since you knew that he didn’t actually hate you, you tried to do as Natasha and Wanda said—get his attention and push more. And God, you loved that game.
Almost every day you found an opportunity or excuse to see him in common rooms or in the corridors of the Tower, and you made sure that Bucky noticed you. You wore tighter clothes, walked right past him, and looked at him with a smile. You knew that it was working because a few times Bucky just suddenly left the room while he was mumbling something.
It was almost 8 p.m., but you were still working on schedule for the next week. There was some kind of charity event, and Tony required you to convince everyone to go there because more Avengers can attract more sponsors and money. As always, Bucky was the one who refused to go there. He simply sees no reason for him to be there, and he doesn’t want to be there alone because he knows that Captain America will be the biggest star, and such a social butterfly as Sam will leave him in a second.
You decided that it would be better to talk to Bucky in person, but you didn’t want to lose a chance to get his attention, so you went by yourself instead of asking FRIDAY.
You looked in the small mirror to check your makeup and hair and went straight to where you knew Bucky was spending his evening. As you walked in a dark room filled with only light from the TV, you saw Sam and Steve sitting on the couch and Bucky on the armchair near them. You quietly walk to him and just casually sit on the armrest. His eyebrows flew to his hairline, and you heard that the chewing from the boys stopped. Bucky had no choice but to put his metal arm on your lower back.
“I need you in my office. You have to talk about the next charity event. Could you please give me some of your time?” You quietly asked and lowered yourself closer to him. Bucky was just staring at you for a few seconds, but then slightly nodded.
Bucky followed you to your office, not without getting smirks from the boys,and then stood near your table with his hands in his pockets.
“Don’t you want to sit?” You said and stepped closer to him.
“No.”
“Um– okay.” You took the papers from your table and stood in front of Bucky. “So, you know that there is going to be a charity event, and I’m responsible for getting all the Avengers there, and you are one of them.”
“I’m not going, I already told Tony.” He just shrugged.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not needed there. I’m not an actual hero, people have no interest in me, especially when there will be Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor, you know? Plus, I have no interest in sitting alone the whole night.” You saw that Bucky tried to be casual about it, but he just put salt on his own wound.
“Don’t say that, Bucky. There are people who want to see you there, you have a lot of fans. You know, I’m going there too, so if you don't mind, we can–”
“What game are you playing with me?” He interrupted you. Bucky straightened his shoulders, which made him look even bigger, and started moving closer to you, putting you in a trap between him and your desk.
“W– what do you mean?” You couldn't control your body as you started to tremble a little bit from the power that this man had. As soon as you bumped into the table, his hands landed on both sides of you, and his face was right in front of yours.
“Don’t act clueless, Y/N. I see what you’re doing.” He stopped for a second, studying your face. “You know, I tried to convince myself that you do all of this by accident, but now I’m sure that you’re just playing your little game. Am I right, doll?” You two were staring at each other, and you felt almost nauseous from different emotions.
He was so fucking beautiful up close. Piercing blue eyes, pink lips, and light stubble You know why many women thought that James Barnes was charming. If he had more confidence, he would’ve been unstoppable.
Your eyes slowly shifted lower to his arms and chest as you remained silent. He was big, with well-trained muscles that were seen through the tight black t-shirt. Both arms were stretched near you, so you had a really good opportunity to look at the smooth tanned skin and beautiful dark vibranium. You felt how your lower stomach tightened just from the thought of getting those pretty hands on your body…
You were pulled out of your head by a sudden movement of Bucky’s hand, which gripped your face and pushed your lips together. He was obviously dominating in the kiss, as if he were desperate to taste you. The tip of his tongue brushed over your lips, asking for entrance, which you happily gave him. The moan came out of you when Bucky moved away and looked you in the eyes, still holding your face.
“This whole fucking time I thought that I was a creep for looking at you, but now I know that you did everything on purpose, doll.” His eyes moved between your eyes and mouth. “All these short skirts and dresses that almost showed me everything underneath it, all these innocent smiles and looks... You did it to tease me?”
“Not at first...” You mumbled. “But you were acting so weird, and girls said that you liked me and just didn’t know what to do. I wanted to find out whether it was true or not.”
“Fuck, if I knew earlier that this was your plan, I would’ve bent you over the nearest surface, baby.” Bucky moved a little closer, brushing his lips over yours. “Do you know how fucking hot and gorgeous you are? I haven’t felt that way in many, many years. Just wanna kiss you and make you mine.”
“And what’s stopping you from this, Sargent?” You asked with a smile and moved your hand to the back of his neck to gently play with the baby hairs.
“You’re gonna be my death, doll face.” He mumbled before leaning closer and kissing you again.
This time, you started to touch each other's bodies. Bucky’s warm and cold hands landed on your thighs, playing with the hem of the skirt and rubbing your soft skin after he lifted you up a little bit and helped you sit on the table, staying in between your legs. Your own hands were moving up and down his broad chest, discovering all of his muscles.
“Bucky…” You whined into the kiss when his finger brushed against the edge of your already wet panties.
“Tell me.” Bucky moved away from your swollen lips and left a path of kisses down your neck. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” He sucked a sensitive spot under your ear, which made you moan.
“I don’t know. Just do anything, please.” You both breathed heavily. You felt like you were too hot; your lower stomach ached, and your underwear was soaking wet. Bucky was looking at you with such lust in his eyes that you wanted him to destroy you.
“Lay back.” He ordered you as one of his hands went higher under your skirt and slid your black lace panties down your legs. You didn’t miss how Bucky shoved him into the back pocket of his jeans with a smirk on his face.
You quickly followed his instructions and just threw all the papers from our table on the floor. You’ll regret it later, but now you don't care. The sudden move of Bucky's metal arm grabbed and pulled your shirt, and all the buttons scattered on the floor, making you gasp in disbelief.
“Bucky! It was expensive.”
“Sorry, I’ll buy you whatever you want, I promise. But now I need to see you all.” He growled and fell to his knees before you. “Fuck, doll, such a pretty pussy. I’m gonna make a mess with her.”
Bucky’s hands grabbed both of your legs and threw them over his shoulders. He dragged your skirt higher, not wanting to take it off of you. His head fell on your right legs as he left a few kisses on your sensitive skin.
“Bucky please! Don’t tease me!” You desperately whined.
“I need a moment to appreciate both of you. I haven’t done it since the 40's, you know that?”
You wanted to say something, but his mouth on your most delicate part of your body left you speechless and made you grab his hair. Bucky’s tongue was gentle at first, just to get a taste of you and tease you a little bit. His tongue started to play with your clit, circling it and applying different pressures to find out what made your body twitch. It looked like he was enjoying it too; you felt deep grunts escaping his mouth as he was trying to catch every drop that came out of you.
Your loud moans filled the room as Bucky found the perfect place and made motions that made you see stars. A hand in his hair tightened even more when you felt one of his fingers at your entrance.
“M-hm, so wet and tight for me.” He pulled away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers came in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were firmly glued to your pussy, which was trying to get more, and his mouth opened a little bit at the sight. “Taking my fingers like a good girl.” Bucky attacked you with his mouth again. This time he was licking your folds, mixing his saliva with your juices. When the feeling of his nose touching your bundle of nerves came through your whole body, you gripped Bucky’s dark locks even harder, particularly trying to ride his face, and he had to put his metal hand on your hips so you wouldn’t move.
Your body tensed when he curled his fingers right on your g-spot, sucking your clit like a hungry man.
“Bucky—fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop!” You whined with tears running down your face.
A few more movements of his magical mouth, and you fell over the edge. Your legs tightened around his head, tingles went all over your body, and the loudest moan mixed with Bucky’s name came out of you as you were riding on the wave of your orgasm.
Bucky didn’t stop, though.
He made sure to lick every drop that came out of you, to the point that you had to beg him to stop because you were too sensitive.
“That was—“ You were trying to catch a breath. “That was the best orgasm I've ever had, oh my god. If you did it for the first time in like seventy years, I can’t imagine what you can do with practice.”
Bucky dragged you up by your neck, so you would be at the same level with him. His hand moved your hips closer to the edge of the table, and you felt how hard he was through those jeans.
“I can practice whenever you’ll allow me, doll.” He put his warm hand on your face to kiss you. The taste of your own release on his tongue made you moan.
“Need you inside of me, please.” Your hands automatically started to pull up his shirt, but he stopped you.
“We don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.”
You were silent for a few seconds. “Why wouldn’t I want to take your shirt off?”
“You know, my arm and scars...”
“Do you really think that I care about it?” You left a few kisses on his cheek. “I think that your arm is hot, by the way, and I want to feel your skin on mine, Sarge.” It was enough for Bucky to pull off his shirt and stay before you half-naked.
Your hands moved to trace every muscle, every birthmark, and every scar on his chest, and you felt that this moment was so intimate, especially because of Bucky’s stare. He looked at you with such adoration and softness that you wanted to melt.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” He mumbled and kissed you with even more passion.
Bucky ripped off the rest of your shirt and quickly took off your matching black bra, gripping your breasts with both hands and taking your left nipple in his hot mouth.
You dug nails into Bucky’s back as he was sucking and licking your nipples, leaving them wet in the cold air. It felt good. So fucking good—his mouth was truly amazing. But the emptiness inside of you was almost painful, and you were clenching around nothing.
“Bucky! Sarge, please, I need you.” You almost cried and dragged his head by the hair back to your mouth.
“Baby, baby, wait– “ His hot breath was touching your lips, but he stopped your hands, which were unbuckling his belt. “Baby, I don’t have a condom. Fuck, do you have one?”
“We don’t have to use it... I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” Your legs wrapped tighter around Bucky’s waist and put him closer to your naked core. He swore that he could feel your heat through his jeans and boxers.
“Fuck, I love twenty-first century... I’m clean too, can’t even catch a disease with this serum shit.”
His words were like a green light to you. You didn’t want to wait even a second more. So you just took off his pants with such speed and impatience that it made Bucky chuckle. With the last movement, all of his clothes were on the floor, and you sat on your table, frozen because of the sight before you.
Bucky’s thick and perfectly long dick was the best fucking thing that you’ve ever seen. Pink and a little bit curled to his abdomen. Your mouth watered just thinking about tasting it. Or how well he’ll stretch you out. You didn’t even notice how your mouth opened a little bit, and you unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.
“You’re gonna destroy me, Bucky.” You mumbled, to which you heard only a deep chuckle. Your eyes moved back to Bucky’s smiley face.
“I hope so.”
Two different hands landed on your thighs again, spreading and lifting them up. You both looked down at where his cock almost touched your bare folds, and the first contact made you moan loudly. Bucky took the base of his cock, giving himself a few pumps, and moved the tip up and down your pussy, moving easily because of the mixture of your juices.
You grabbed his forearm and whined at the action.
“Ready, doll?” He was trying to be tough and strong, but you saw how he nervously licked his lips, the tremble of his flesh hand, and the tension in his abdomen. But you still vigorously nodded.
It was different from everything you’ve ever experienced. He was big but tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt you. He only pushed a few inches, but you already wanted to cry from all the feelings inside of you. Pain mixed with extreme pleasure.
Bucky was trying so hard to control his motions and go slow, but God, it wasn’t easy. From the first touch of his cock, it felt like he had gone to heaven. He knew that sex was good, he remembers it, but the feeling of you and your warm body that so gracefully greeted him inside made him feral. Bucky felt such a need to kiss you that it was almost painful, especially when your swollen lips were a few inches away from his.
He leaned in closer to your lips, but it made him slip deeper into you, which made you both loudly moan into each other's mouths.
“Fuck– doll, you’re so warm and tight, oh my god.” Bucky mumbled as the grip on your hips became harder. It’ll probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care.
The feeling of him inside of you was overwhelming. He was so deep and stretched you just the way that you wanted, and you almost cried from pleasure.
“Please, Bucky, please move!”
His hips slightly moved once, and it felt like his mood instantly changed. You were suddenly pushed back on your table, and your legs, still in heels, were thrown on Bucky’s shoulders. His metal hand stayed on your thigh, and the other one fell on your stomach to push your skirt higher on your waist.
“All dressed up for me, baby.” He started slowly moving, burying his cock deep inside, and then leaving only the tip to tease you. “You know how long I wanted to do that, huh? Bend you over and just fuck the shit out of you until you can’t say anything except for my name.”
“Bucky– Sarge, please go faster. Just fuck me, do whatever you want.” You were desperate, yes. But you couldn't help but beg, because you really needed him to keep his promise and fuck the shit out of you.
You reached for his hand on your stomach and interlaced your fingers together.
“If you keep calling me that, I won’t last too long, doll.” His thrusts became harder and faster as your body moved up and down on your table.
Bucky was looking at your drunk-looking face with a slightly open mouth because you couldn’t keep your moans quiet. Your hair was deshiveled, your skin glimmered with sweat, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.
“So beautiful, baby.” Bucky murmured, fucking you harder. The room was filled with loud noises from slapping skin and moans. “You love it when I talk to you like that, huh? Want me to tell you what a good girl you are?” His words definitely did something to you, and you unconsciously tightened around him. “Almost choking my cock, baby, fu-u-ck.”
“Mhm, Sargent, I’m so full of you.” You couldn’t see straight as the tip of his head pressed at the perfect spot with every thrust, it was too much and not enough at the same time.
The wet kisses on the inner side of your thigh sent shivers down your whole body when Bucky started to suck tender skin. His rough movement didn’t stop for a moment, and you knew that your orgasm was getting closer. The warm feeling in your belly slowly became bigger. It was hard for you to cum from sex, but Bucky did it so fast and without even touching your clit.
“C’mon, doll face. I feel ‘ya. Feel how your perfect little pussy is squeezing me. Cum with me, baby, cum on my cock.” His movements were still rough and confident, but you felt the slightest change in the way he was looking at you, how his body trembled a little bit, and the prettiest quiet noises escaped his mouth as Bucky was coming to his own end.
You were completely lost in your pleasure, with strong arms on your body and Bucky’s hard cock that was completely destroying you, so when fingers on your clit started to move in circles, your body slightly jolted up from your table.
“Bucky, Bucky, please—ohmygod, I’m coming!” You cried out loud and grabbed the hard wood under your arms.
“O-oh, fuck, doll, cum with me, please. Yes, squeeze my cock harder, make a mess. ‘M gonna cum.” With the last few pushes of his dick inside of you and movements of the fingers, you both fell from your heights, and the room filled with loud moans of pleasure. The feeling of his hot seed on your walls almost made you faint.
Bucky fell down on your body as your leg slipped from his shoulder. Two strong arms wrapped around you, and Bucky’s face nuzzled into your neck. You don’t know how long you two stayed silent, trying to catch a breath, while your hands gently rubbed Bucky’s back.
When he finally lifted himself up with a metal arm near your face on the table, the look in his eyes sent millions of butterflies to your stomach.
“I don’t even know what to say…” He chuckled and cupped your face with his right hand. “You look so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”
“Even when my makeup, my hair, and my clothes are completely destroyed?” You playfully arched an eyebrow and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers on your hot skin.
“Well, I did it, and I’m satisfied with it. You still look so hot, especially with my dick still inside of you.”
“Bucky!”
“Sorry, sorry. But I’m serious, though. Will you let me take you on a date? Maybe yesterday for lunch or for dinner after work?” His eyes had this little bit of doubt, and you couldn’t stop your wide smile because he was really thinking that you would say “no” after that.
“I will be glad to go out with you, Buck.” You dragged his face closer and gave him the sweetest kiss you could.
Bucky moved away, gently slipping out of you, and you hissed at the empty feeling. He helped you stand up on your shaking legs and handed you your clothes.
“Fuck, you completely destroyed my clothes.” You said as you were standing in front of the mirror. “How will I go home?”
“You can stay in my room.” Bucky came closer to you and helped you make your blouse look more presentable, even without buttons.
“Really?”
“Of course, doll. Just hold your shirt in case we bump into someone in the corridor, but I think everyone is already in their rooms.” Bucky finished dressing up, and you saw your underwear sticking out of his pocket.
“Don’t you want to give me my panties?”
“Na-ah, you’ll have to walk with me dripping out of you.” He gave you a cocky smile and turned all the lights off before wrapping his arm around you and leading you into the hall.
It was completely empty, but the second that you stepped out of the elevator, you saw Bucky’s best friends looking at you. All of you were looking at each other for a few seconds before Sam started hysterically laughing.
“You owe me fifty bucks, idiot!” He said to Steve, who was as red as a tomato. “Good job, Buckaroo, but I really thought that we were gonna ask her on a date first.”
“Fuck off, Willson.” Bucky growled, protectively stepping forward to protect you from their looks.
“Okay, okay, relax, no one’s touching your girl.” He said with a cocky smile on his face. “Let’s go, Steve. You’re too innocent to look at things like this.” Sam took his friend and led him in another direction.
“Asshole.” Bucky growled.
“Everything is okay, Buck, let’s go.” You stepped closer to his room, but he was still standing in his place. “I have to take a shower. Will you come with me, or will you stand here the whole night?” You smirked.
It was everything he needed to finally get closer to you, scoop you into his arms, and carry you into his room to the sound of laughter, which soon turned into moans.
#bucky barnes smut#the winter soldier#bucky barnes#marvel#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky x you#james bucky buchanan barnes#winter soldier#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#marvel smut#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#marvel fanfiction#mcu x reader#marvel fanfic#bucky smut#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader
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Half-Tongue Rule: 12 Days of Smut #1
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: A little Asgardian liquor and a whole lot of tension leads to a teeny tiny bit of smut between you and a certain jealous super soldier.
Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, teasing, public teasing, jealous!Bucky, slight DUBCON if you consider it so, alcohol consumption, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 9k (I'm very sorry)
A/N: Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for both catching my mistakes in writing and helping with warnings. She's the reason I don't give in to my daily urge to delete my whole blog lmao. Also, I apologize for this being an hour later than planned. It has been a day. This is just a lil baby smut but I think each day of this event will get filthier and filthier as I get closer to my favorite storylines.
You hate parties. You hate the amount of alcohol that people seem to need to consume just to enjoy each other’s company. You hate the way you feel obligated to stay for a certain length of time just to appease the host. You especially hate the way parties make it hard to even hear your own thoughts. Or maybe you just hate Tony Stark’s parties, specifically. His parties are classy, yet overly loud and hard to break away from when you’re ready to leave. However, you still accepted the Christmas party invitation that Pepper so kindly emailed you three weeks ago. It would’ve been too difficult to come up with a fake excuse for missing it when half of you live in the same building.
So, that’s what led you here, taking the elevator up to the top floor of Stark Tower, standing with your back pressed against the cold metal wall as you listen to the chatter of the various SHIELD employees who piled into the elevator with you. The only familiar faces on the ride up are Sharon and Wanda. The three of you arrived together, but you know as soon as the elevator lets you out into the party, they’ll both disappear into the crowd to be social butterflies. Your dress is so thin that the cool temperature of the elevator wall sends a chill down your spine, making you regret having left your winter coat downstairs like everyone else.
The sound of music playing through the speakers just a little way higher in the elevator shaft reaches your ears and you take a deep breath. You remind yourself that parties are supposed to be fun and that you put all of this effort into looking hot as fuck, you need to find a way to enjoy the night. You tell yourself to be free and have a little fun, not to hide away in a corner refusing to have even one drink, and not to rush out of here before it’s been at least an hour.
When the elevator slows to a halt and starts filing out to join the lively, festive gathering ahead, your legs refuse to carry you forward. The lower half of your body hasn’t quite gotten the whole be free and have a little fun memo yet. Wanda shoots you a disapproving look paired with a small frown and shakes her head before reaching out and wrapping an arm around your waist. She pulls you along with her and suddenly, you’re immersed in Christmas music and Christmas cheer.
“Don’t be a buzzkill. Have a few drinks for once and loosen up, you’re can be the life of the party when you’re a little drunk.” Wanda commands, ushering you a few steps further away from the elevator. You’re about to remind her that she’s only ever seen you drunk once, and that it’s been over a year since then, but as soon as her eyes land on Vision across the room, she’s gone. You find yourself standing alone in your little burgundy dress. You take a moment to let your eyes roam over the crowd, noticing how almost everyone is in black or navy. You see a couple of women in forest green dresses, and even one in a dress that’s as white as snow, but no one else is wearing the same color as you. Damn. That’ll make it a little harder to blend in in the corner.
You let out a soft sigh before pushing your loosely curled hair back over your shoulder and turning to the left to head to the small bar. One drink. You can have one drink and pretend like you’re enjoying this before you make your great escape. Though the expansive room is quite crowded with people, the bar itself isn’t so bad. The bartender is quick to pass you your glass of whiskey neat as he shoots you a kind smile. You’re only one sip in when you notice the bartender’s eyes look past you, over your shoulder, at someone else. You await the inevitable approach of whoever it is that’s behind you as you savor the slight burn of the whiskey trickling down your throat.
“You showed.” Sam’s voice rings out from behind you. He steps up to the bar and rests his elbows on it, standing a little to your left. You turn to face him and find him grinning from ear to ear. His infectious smile has always made you feel a little more at ease, and so you find yourself relaxing the tiniest bit in his presence. You lift the glass to your lips and take a second sip. Sam studies you while he waits for a beer, taking in your deep burgundy dress and your quiet demeanor. He knows parties aren’t your thing, but he also knows you can be more fun than just about anyone he’s ever met when you have a little bit of alcohol coursing through your veins. It’s not that you need to drink to be a fun person, but you keep yourself so reined in, so on task most of the time, that you forget to live. When you drink, you let yourself relax a little and your guard goes down just enough for you to have a good time without overthinking it. “Whiskey neat?” Sam asks, eyeing your drink of choice. You nod your head and drag your fingertip around the rim of your glass, glancing down at the amber-colored liquid.
“I wanted to look mysterious and brooding. Holding a glass of whiskey makes a girl look mysterious and brooding, right?” You ask jokingly, giving Sam a small smile. He chuckles and stands up straight as the bartender presses a bottle of beer into his hand. He turns to fully face you now but his gaze continues to span across the room until it lands on a certain super soldier. Bucky stands tall beside one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, dressed in a well-fitted pair of black dress pants with an even better-fitted black button up adorning his torso. You take in the unusual sight of his vibranium arm on display. You’ve never seen him with his sleeves rolled up like this before. He looks a bit like a successful CEO of some company that earns him a few million dollars a year, especially with those gold accents in the crevices of his arm. You can’t seem to tear your gaze away from the man who you’ve been strategically avoiding at all costs.
“If you want to look mysterious and brooding, you should talk to the cyborg over there. He has that look down pat.” Sam says with a laugh. He won’t say it to either of you out loud, but Sam thinks you and Bucky are so similar that you could’ve been cut from the same cloth. He knows people say that opposites attract, but he has to wonder if that’s always the case. To anyone else, it would seem like you and Bucky hate each other, even though you work together so seamlessly in the field. Sam has witnessed an odd sort of vibe between the two of you multiple times before, something that walks a very thin line between hatred and sexual tension. Neither of you have ever given Sam enough solid evidence that it’s anything besides a mutual dislike, but he can tell. He may not know just how right he is about the two of you, but he knows something is there.
As if Bucky could feel your eyes on him, he turns his head ever-so-slightly and meets your gaze. His blue eyes are always so piercing, seeing right through you and making you feel on edge for absolutely no reason. The moment he looked at you was the moment you should’ve put your drink down and switched to water for the rest of the evening. But when Thor arrived a few moments later, bearing the gift of Asgardian liquor, you decided to drink your demons away for one night.
---
“What’s going on over there?” Sam’s question catches the attention of the small crowd of Avengers that are gathered around one end of the bar, as he points across the bar where you and Thor seem to be engaged in a more-than-friendly conversation. Sharon smiles deviously and Bucky’s jaw clenches, already hating where this is going.
“Thor’s trying to close the deal with her. He gave her a little Asgardian liquor, and I think it’s going to pay off for him.” She explains, lifting her colorful drink to her lips and taking a long sip. Bucky watches you closely for a moment, picking up on the fact that you’re definitely past tipsy. Thor is seated on a barstool and you stand in front of him, laughing at something he’s just said as he smiles down at you. Bucky’s jaw clenches again when he sees you playfully rest a hand on Thor’s knee. Bucky would like to think that your hand is there for balance, but he knows that’s not what this is. Not at all. He scoffs and finishes off his own glass of whiskey.
“It’s not going to pay off for him.” Bucky mumbles, trying to ignore the unfamiliar feeling that’s rising up in his chest. Jealousy. You wouldn’t go for a guy who’s shamelessly flirting with you after liquoring you up, just to get you into bed. You thrive off of banter, off of arguing with someone to the point of wanting to shut them up with your body. Bucky isn’t positive, but he’s fairly sure that he knows this about you. He picks up on the way you come alive when the two of you end up in a heated argument after a mission goes awry, he picks up on the way your frustration in the field brings about a different kind of tension between the two of you on the trips back to the compound. You aren’t the type to fall head over heels for a few compliments and a pretty face, even if the guy is a god. Thor would be too easy for you. And if Bucky has learned anything about you after butting heads with you for the past two months, it’s that you like a challenge more than anything.
“It looks like it is.” Sam claims, pointing a finger in your direction now. Bucky looks again and sees Thor leaning in close to you, whispering something in your ear that makes your cheeks a little more pink. He catches himself squeezing his whiskey glass so hard that it might’ve shattered if he hadn’t released it onto the bar. Thor rises from the barstool, towering over you by at least a foot, shoots you a suggestive look, and then walks past you. Everyone watches as he heads straight for the elevator, making a quick exit from the party, everyone except Bucky. He’s focused on you as you turn your whole body to see Thor walk away. It’s clear that he’s daring you to follow him out, to run off somewhere for a late-night rendezvous, anyone can see that. Sam and Sharon have seemingly lost interest in the situation at hand and they quickly dive into their own conversation. Bucky continues watching you closely, his eyes narrowed and zoned in on you, as you finish off your drink and set your glass down on the bar. When you finally look back up, you look straight at him. As soon as your eyes meet his, he notices the way every muscle in your body tenses. Fuck it.
His walk is confident, nearly cocky, and you can tell he’s seething. You watch him so carefully as he makes his way through the crowded room, noticing how everyone parts as soon as they see him coming. He’s clearly sporting a bit of a mood and no one here would dare be on the receiving end of that. As Bucky approaches you, his eyes bore into yours, with no trace of a smile or kind greeting to be found behind his blue eyes. You swallow hard, getting ready for one of his signature scoffs or briefly worded insults.
“Bucky—” You start, ready to diffuse whatever argument your sometimes-field partner is about to begin with you. He doesn’t even slow down as he nearly barrels into you, his vibranium hand wrapping around your wrist, forcing you away from the bar. He turns you around roughly and pushes you in front of him, straight through a corner door that he’s throwing open with his right hand. Suddenly, you’re immersed in even dimmer lights as he closes the door behind him, effectively shutting the two of you off from the rest of the party. His grip on your wrist loosens and you can smell the soft tinge of the same whiskey you’ve been drinking tonight on his lips. The music is muffled in here and it helps you get ahold of your thoughts before you turn to face the little shit that dragged you in here against your will. When you turn around, Bucky stands still in front of the door, his vibranium hand uncharacteristically unobscured by any sort of glove. It gleams in the low light and distracts you for a brief second, before you look up at him.
“What the hell, Bucky?” Your voice is raspy from the burn of the whiskey and Asgardian liquor. It feels a bit like you swallowed rocks, but the buzz it all gave you is worth it. As annoyed as you should be with Bucky right now for manhandling you like he’s anything but your occasional partner in the field, you can’t help but think about how fucking hot he looks tonight. His dark pants show off just how muscular his legs are, specifically his thighs. They also show off just how well-endowed he is in a different department, but you try hard not to think about that. Bucky catches you looking him up and down, unfortunately, as you’re not the slyest when you’ve been drinking liquor that works against even a super soldier’s metabolism.
“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” His tone is patronizing, but his words send an all-too-familiar heat rushing between your legs. You instinctively listen to him, shifting your eyes up to meet his. His command felt almost lustful to you but his gaze is harsh. Maybe you just felt like it was lustful because you wanted it to be. You do tend to get a little horny when you’ve been drinking, and with the Asgardian buzz, everything starts to seem a little porny. You swallow, closing your mouth and waiting for the man to say anything else. He takes his time choosing his words, as he lets his eyes rake over your body just like your eyes raked over his a moment ago. He didn’t get a good enough look at your dress when you were all the way across the bar, but now he’s decided that he fucking hates it.
“Bucky?” You prompt, tilting your head to the side, trying to get him to look in your eyes again. When he finally does, his gaze remains cold and harsh.
“You showed up at a party just to get drunk and go home with Thor?” He questions, his tone both accusing and condescending. You scoff, taking a step backward and crossing your arms over your chest. This small action lifts your breasts and you notice Bucky’s eyes briefly lower to steal a glance. God. He wishes he’d found a darker closet to force you into.
“Fuck you for that.” You spit back at him, narrowing your eyes and shooting daggers in his direction. He laughs lowly and watches as you wobble a bit on your heels, the buzz from the liquor developing into more of a state of drunkenness as your body struggles to metabolize it.
“You would fuck me. You’d fuck anyone after drinking what he gave you.” Bucky tosses out the insult with ease, a cocky smirk painted on his face. You run your hands through your hair, wondering when the room started tilting to one side.
“I wouldn’t fuck you, but anyone else maybe. What are we doing in here, James?” You ask, looking around the small, empty supply closet that you seem to be in. You take one step back and lean against the wall behind you for a little support. Bucky chuckles at the sight of you, making such an effort to fight off his insults and maintain your balance at the same time. He’s never really been around you when you’ve been drinking, and he finds it unbelievably amusing.
“Are you lying to yourself or just to me?” His voice is lower now, a little quieter and a lot more charged with something. You want to say it’s charged with lust, but again, the porny haze might just be from your own point of view. However, Bucky is feeling that porny haze in the air as well. Hell, Bucky’s the one creating it. You push his question to the back of your mind, focusing on what you want to know. If he would just hurry up and tell you why he forced you into a damn supply closet, you could walk out of here and head downstairs to find Thor and start having some real fun.
“Let’s try this one last time, what are we doing in here?” You repeat, pushing yourself away from the wall and stepping closer to him? You’re only a foot apart from each other now, and you can see him much better from this distance in the low lighting.
“I’m keeping you from making a stupid decision.”
“No, you’re kind of cockblocking, if you even know what that is.” You retort, rolling your eyes and turning to the left as you reach for the door handle. Bucky quickly reaches out with his flesh hand, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and forcing your arm away from the door. He doesn’t let go of your wrist this time.
“You’re not sleeping with him.” He says firmly. You look down at where he’s gripping your wrist before looking back up at him, narrowing your eyes once more.
“Why the hell do you think you get a vote?”
“I’m not voting, I’m vetoing it. You’re drunk.”
“I don’t need you to protect me, Barnes. Contrary to popular belief, I can take care of my damn self.” You snatch your hand away from him, thinking he’ll release his grip when you do, but he only tightens it and uses the leverage to pull you against him. Your chest crashes against his and you can feel his breath fan across your face. He smells like whiskey and light cologne, and his body heat emanates through his thin button-up shirt. A few less-than-holy thoughts speed through your mind. For a second, you worry he might be able to read your partially drunken thoughts with his intense stare. Bucky’s jaw clenches and he fights the urge to shove you against the wall and fuck you right here.
“Then go home and take care of yourself instead of letting that jackass do it for you.”
Did Bucky really just tell you to go home and get yourself off? You’re ninety-percent sure that that’s what he just alluded to. Okay, eighty-five percent sure since you’re not quite all there due to the obscene amount of alcohol you’ve consumed over the past hour. You feel a wave of heat spreading through your entire body, lighting your skin on fire. The point where Bucky’s hand is clasped around your wrist is especially on fire. You inhale a shaky breath, calming yourself down and trying to command your body to cooperate with you and cool down. Bucky smirks as he watches your attempt to gather yourself.
“I got all dressed up and drunk for sex, Barnes. I’m not letting my effort go to waste.” Bucky’s eyes are saying so many things at once, but you can’t figure out a damn word of it in your current state. All you can think about is him pressing you up against the wall right now. Maybe he’d be a little pliant since he’s also downed a good amount of whiskey tonight, and since he clearly suddenly thinks that he has a say in your sex life. You feel your drunken confidence, your alter ego, coming out to play. You smile now, pressing your lips together and softening your gaze as you drink in the sight of his steely gaze and unreadable expression. “If I can’t have sex with Thor, are you going to tell me who I can have sex with tonight?” Your words take him by surprise and he recoils, dropping your wrist and stepping back. You feel powerful now, making him step away with only your words.
“You really should just go home, sleep it off.” He says, trying once again to steer you in a safe direction. It’s not so much that he’s trying to steer you in a safe direction, but more that he’s trying to keep himself from having a reason to pick a fight with Thor. He doesn’t want his hands on you. He’s not letting it happen.
“I am so fucking tired of you always trying to protect me. What happened to the introverted ass who lived across the hall and skulked around the tower? He was way more bearable.”
“You like me way more now.” He states, narrowing his eyes at you. You shake your head quickly.
“You’re still an ass, but now you’re all confident and you know you’re hot and it’s unbearable.” You feel the regret as soon as the words leave your lips. You didn’t mean to say the part about him being hot.
“You think I’m hot?” He asks. He’s intrigued now, that cocky smirk once again gracing his face. You shrug your shoulders, reaching for the door again. He lets you grab the handle this time but he places a strong, firm hand against the door, at the height of your face, stopping you from opening it. He steps in close, his chest nearly brushing against your right arm and side as he leans down to your ear. “Answer the question.” A chill races down your spine, forcing you to close your eyes and draw in a deep, calming breath. Why is he being so damn authoritative all of a sudden?
“I’m drunk.”
“Which just means that you have no filter. So, answer the question.” He keeps his hand firmly planted against the door and you know he won’t let you out of here until he gets his answer.
“Yes.” You answer as nonchalantly as possible, turning your head to him. You’re a mere inch apart now, his lips hovering so teasingly in front of yours and his eyes staring into your soul.
“You’re not leaving with him.” He states. His tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip and narrowly missing yours. You can’t stop yourself from looking at his lips, especially his bottom lip that’s now moistened right in front of you.
“You can’t tell me what to do.” You slur your words, pushing your hands against his chest and forcing him back a couple of small steps. You march yourself out of the closet now, leaving him behind, but your mind still seems to be stuck on the image of his lips. You should’ve just kissed him. Who could have blamed you if you did kiss him? Asgardian liquor gives everything such a sexual energy for some reason.
Bucky can’t stop himself from keeping a watchful eye on you for the rest of the party. After you got away from him, you headed off to dance and drink even more with Sharon. As long as you don’t sneak off to wherever Thor went, he really doesn’t give a shit what you do. Or maybe he does. He isn’t quite sure why he suddenly gives a shit. Why were you so set on having sex with someone tonight? And why did it seem like you didn’t even care who it was going to be? That doesn’t seem like you at all, having a meaningless one-night stand with whoever happens to be up for one.
Bucky’s mind keeps mulling over the fact that you practically called him hot. Well, you said yes when he asked if you thought he was hot. Maybe you’re more bold and honest when you’re drunk. Or maybe you’re just a liar when you’re drunk. Either way, Bucky can’t get it out of his head.
“Yo, cyborg, you in there?” Sam waves his arm in the air, drawing Bucky’s attention out of his thoughts and back to the present conversation.
“What?”
“Which one of us is going to offer the girls a ride home? They’re both way too drunk to drive.” Sam asks. Bucky scoffs. Like you’ll accept a ride from either one of them with how independent you try to be and how especially stubborn you’re already being tonight. Sam distracted Bucky just for a moment, so he didn’t notice you and Sharon heading over to join the group in the sitting area of the lavish room.
As they round the side of the couch, Sharon takes the only space on the couch between Sam and Clint, leaving you to stand beside the couch, steadying yourself on the arm of it.
“We were just talking about you two.” Sam says to you both with a grin, glancing at Sharon first and then up at you. Bucky notices you trying a little too hard to remain in a steady and upright position, but he knows if he stands up and offers you his chair, you’ll absolutely refuse to take it.
“Are you going back to the tower tonight, Y/n?” Clint wonders aloud, focusing his eyes on you. Bucky can tell that Clint also notices your unusual difficulty with balance, but he doesn’t seem very concerned. Clint’s seen her drunk before, so he’s actually used to this side of you. You laugh and shake your head, your curls softer and looser than when Bucky first saw you a little while ago.
“No way, I’m staying with Sharon tonight.” You answer. You looks down at her feet for a brief second and Bucky can tell it’s because your heels are hurting your feet, but you’re not the kind of girl to take your shoes off and walk around barefoot in public.
“Come on, you can’t both be on your own this drunk.” Clint argues, looking to Bucky and Sam for support. Sam catches his drift and takes on a slightly more serious expression before looking up at you. You shake your head once again, rolling your eyes before turning your head and narrowing them at Bucky.
“I wouldn’t even be going home with Sharon if Sergeant Barnes over here hadn’t made me miss my chance with someone.” You say coldly, your eyes once again shooting daggers at Bucky. Sam and Clint turn their attention to Bucky now, and Sharon lets out a hearty laugh.
“Yeah, I heard you vetoed her potential one-night stand.” Sharon’s voice is full of amusement.
“I did you a favor.” Bucky scoffs, returning your hard stare with one of his own. You saunter over to him now, maintaining your balance well enough to seat your pretty little ass on the arm of the chair he’s in. You cross your legs at the knee, causing your already short dress to ride even further up your thighs. Bucky’s vibranium hand that rests on the arm of the chair is only inches behind your ass. He forces himself to look past you, at Sam, who is clearly very entertained by this whole situation.
“Sam, is cockblocking ever a favor?” You ask, seeking validation for your little tantrum over Bucky stopping you from leaving with Thor. Sam shakes his head, looking up at you with a joking frown.
“Never. Friends don’t stop friends from getting theirs.” Sam answers, shooting Bucky another look. He’s implying to Bucky that you and him must not simply be friends if he stopped you from sleeping with Thor tonight. You clap your hands together once before pushing yourself off of his chair and taking two steps toward the couch, you turn yourself effortlessly and take a seat on Sam’s right knee, which doesn’t even seem to faze him. Bucky watches as Sam places a hand on your back to keep you steadied there. His jaw clenches and his vibranium hand coils into a fist.
“See, Bucky, you’ll have to make it up to me.” Your tone can only be described as flirty and suggestive, but only Sam and Bucky seem to pick up on it. Sam raises an eyebrow at the seething super soldier, awaiting his response. He cocks his head to the side, thinking of a way to play this smart.
“Next time Fury pits us against each other in training…” Bucky starts, leaning forward in the chair and resting his elbows on his knees before continuing. “I’ll let you win.”
“No thanks, I kicked your ass last time. I don’t need you to let me win.” You narrow your eyes at him once again, before turning to Sam, Sharon, and Clint. “Sam remembers that, right Sam?” Sam nods vigorously, a smile creeping across his face as the memory plays through his head.
“I would’ve loved to have seen it.” Sharon pipes up, leaning against Sam’s shoulder now. Damn, he’s looking like he’s such a ladies’ man tonight. Bucky considers taking a picture for him so the memory lasts. Wanda and Vision join the group, Wanda perching herself on the armrest next to Clint’s side of the couch and Vision standing beside her, keeping a hand on her back. “Oh, I have the best idea.” Sharon suddenly sounds like a child, and she’s clearly about to say something ridiculously stupid. “We should play truth or dare.”
---
“If we’re doing this, we’re doing this the fair way.” Sam asserts. Clint quickly took his leave before the game was agreed upon, claiming that it was already way past his bedtime and he had to check in with his wife and kids over the phone before they all fall asleep. Wanda and Vision filled his vacant spot on the couch.
You feel the effects of the alcohol that you consumed earlier slowly making its way through your system and losing its potency as it’s metabolized. You still feel a good bit of drunkenness from the Asgardian liquor, and you really wonder how long that will take to clear your system. “We alternate between truth and dare, spinning the bottle to pick who takes the turn.” Sam places an empty beer bottle on the coffee table before us all, his hand briefly leaving your back when he leans forward to do so. As he rests back against the couch again, his hand finds its way to your middle back again. Sitting on his knee like this is starting to make it feel like your ass is falling asleep, and if your ass is falling asleep then your legs won’t be far behind.
“Truth.” Sharon calls out for the first turn, reaching out to spin the bottle and get the game going. You stand up from Sam’s knee and switch to sitting on the floor on your knees. Your dress is sitting dangerously high on your thighs now. You glance around the circle at everyone. Sam, Sharon, Wanda, Vision, and Torres, who joined when Clint left, all keep their eyes trained on the spinning bottle. Bucky, however, is looking right at you. He probably wishes you would’ve gone home and taken care of yourself like he told you to earlier. What a jackass. The bottle slows to a stop, the lip of it pointing at Wanda. “Wanda!” Sharon yells out, excited by her first victim. “Does Vision have a dick?” The question sends the group into an uproar, but Wanda only laughs.
“Yes.” She answers, keeping it short and simple.
“Are follow-up questions allowed?” Sharon quickly asks, turning to look at Sam.
“Only if the bottle lands on that person again and it’s a turn for truth.” He clarifies. Sharon scoffs, rolling her eyes.
“That’s no fun at all.” She complains. You watch as Wanda leans into Vision’s ear and whispers something, something that makes him smile and nuzzle against her cheek ever so slightly. God, they’re sickeningly adorable. Wanda breaks away from him for a moment to spin the bottle, calling out dare as it begins to spin. Of course, it lands on you.
“Wanda, we’re friends.” You remind her. You doubt she would make you do anything too crazy, knowing her, but if she’s been drinking and isn’t her normal self tonight, she might be a little adventurous. Mischief gleams behind her eyes and you know you’re in trouble. This game is starting to feel a bit sobering.
“I dare you to sit on Bucky’s lap for the rest of the game.”
“Wanda!” You yell out, an annoyed tone to your voice and a glare painted across your face. “That has to be against the rules. What if he doesn’t want to participate?” You try to talk your way out of it, looking to Sam now since he seems to be in charge of the rules here. He thinks for a second, looking at you and then up at Bucky. Bucky’s expression is stoic, as unreadable as ever as he stares back at Sam.
“I’ll allow it.” Sam decides, smirking at Bucky. You groan, pushing yourself up from the floor but refusing to make eye contact with Bucky. You move a few steps toward him and sit on his knee, just like you sat on Sam’s earlier.
“Oh, no. That’s not his lap.” Wanda points out, waving her hand at you, gesturing for you to move in closer to his body.
“Fuck you, Wanda.” You say evenly, before fully sitting on Bucky’s lap as he straightens up in the chair a bit. You’re basically sitting right on his crotch, and slightly to his left so his vibranium arm is sitting on the armrest behind your back. You feel him take a deep breath and his exhale fans across your right arm. You avoid turning to look at him. The more you think about it, you’re still really annoyed that he felt like he could tell you not to sleep with someone tonight. You’re even more annoyed with yourself for listening. You should have just kept your original plan and left with Thor. You offer Wanda one last glare, making her laugh and lean closer into Vision. She mouths the words get over it before drawing a heart in the air with her fingers, her way of apologizing to you and saying it isn’t that serious. You know it’s not that serious but you also know what she’s doing. She thinks if you’d just hook up with him once, Bucky and you would get rid of whatever tension is between you and you could be regular partners in the field, as casual and unproblematic as when you work with Clint or Sam. But this isn’t some movie where the two main characters fuck their feelings away and stay friends in the end, hell, there aren’t even any feelings to fuck away here. You’re still barely even friends. You just work together.
You lean forward in Bucky’s lap, away from his body, and spin the bottle, calling out truth before leaning back again. You lean a little too far back, your balance still not perfect due to the alcohol coursing through your veins. The exposed skin of your back in your low-cut dress brushes against his left chest and vibranium arm and his cold metal hand quickly slips behind you, resting on the skin of your back and steadying you. He clearly doesn’t want you sitting any closer than you have to for this dare. Once you’re steady, you expect him to put his hand back on the armrest of the chair, but he doesn’t. He keeps it firmly planted on your back, his vibranium fingers reflecting your body heat and warming up ever-so-slightly. You find the touch comforting and you feel yourself relaxing a little bit. This definitely beats sitting on the floor.
“Sharon!” Sam hollers, tapping her knee that’s closest to him on the couch and then clapping his hands excitedly. “This is going to be good. What do you want to know about her, Y/n?” The bottle points straight at her, and she seems more than ready for whatever you might ask. You think for a moment, with everyone’s attention focused on you, expecting you to come up with something good.
“Was Steve a good kisser?” Bucky lets out a quiet, low chuckle at your question. You can tell he’s trying to seem like he’s not overly enjoying this game, but you know he’s getting at least a little kick out of it. His hand is still on your back and you don’t think he plans to move it anytime soon. You focus on it a little too much, noticing the way his pinky finger rests lightly just an inch above your ass.
“Yeah, he knew what he was doing, that’s for sure. You never would’ve known he hadn’t had any real practice in the last few decades.” She admits. She’s not even trying to hide her smile as the memory of Steve comes to the forefront of her mind. “You know how sometimes guys either do too much with their tongue, or not enough?” You and Wanda both nod, while the four men in the group look on at you, obviously intrigued by the topic. “He did exactly enough.”
“Wow, who taught him the half-tongue rule?” Wanda questions jokingly.
“The half-tongue rule?” Torres sounds genuinely curious. He can be so adorable sometimes, so clueless for someone so unbelievably smart.
“For a good makeout session, you should never put more than half of your tongue in the other person’s mouth.” Sharon explains. Torres nods as she explains, as if he’s absorbing the information and storing it for later use. “Okay, this one is going to be good.” Sharon announces, her eyes darting around the group for her next victim as she sends the bottle into a rotation. You get distracted for a moment when Bucky’s vibranium thumb rubs a small circle against your lower back, so softly that you question if it’s even happening.
“White Wolf…” Sharon tsks. A look that you can only describe as evil takes over her features and she grins as she stares Bucky down. You didn’t notice that the bottle landed on him at first. He continues rubbing those small circles with his thumb and you’re really wondering what the hell he’s doing, but you don’t want to draw attention to it. “I dare you to demonstrate the half-tongue rule with your partner there.” Sharon points right at me. You swallow hard and shake your head, but you can feel Bucky’s lack of any reaction behind you. He doesn’t so much as take a deep breath or shift in his seat at the threat of the dare.
“Wait, what are the stakes if they don’t?” Vision asks, looking around the group for an answer.
“You have to answer three truths in a row, hard ones.” Sharon decides, looking to Sam for approval and he nods quickly. You see him shoot Bucky a look, you can’t tell what it is but it’s insinuating something. He knows Bucky would refuse to answer three hard questions about himself, so it’s way less likely that he’ll refuse a dare.
“And what if the person the dare involves refuses to participate?” Wanda asks, smiling at you with fake sweetness. You see what she’s doing and you’re mentally kicking her for it. She wants to know what punishment you’ll face if you refuse to let Bucky complete this dare with you.
“Same thing, I guess.” Sam answers quickly. You don’t have a problem with answering truths, but with the direction Sharon and Wanda have been taking this game, it might be a dangerous thing to get yourself into. Who knows what they would ask at this point?
“So? Are you guys going to demonstrate the half-tongue rule or can we ask you both three questions?” Sharon prompts, her eyes flitting between you both. You finally turn and look at Bucky, but as your ass moves against his lap slightly, he presses his vibranium hand flat against your lower back, attempting to still you. He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours to see what your answer will be.
“Come on, we’ve all seen you kiss on undercover ops before, it’s just like that.” Wanda chimes in, trying to get the group what they want. You tune her out, waiting for Bucky to speak up and say he won’t do it, that this is childish and silly and you’re all adults. You know you’re in trouble when he cocks his head to the right and his lips curl into that smirk that you’ve grown so used to seeing on him.
“Why aren’t you backing down from this?” You ask quietly so only he can hear you. Everyone is staring at you, anticipating either a kiss or a white flag of surrender.
“Why aren’t you?” He licks his bottom lip and for the second time tonight, you think about how much you want that lip pressed between your own. Fuck Thor for giving you that drink.
You honestly couldn’t say who started it. You couldn’t say how long it lasted. But when you leaned into him and his left hand found it’s place on your hip while his right snaked up to your hair and pulled your face against his, you were lost in the moment. His lips moved against yours like it was a dance, something spontaneous and straight out of a movie, your heads tilting in opposite directions to give each other exactly enough leverage and access. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, waiting for you to part your lips and grant access. You hesitated, just for a second, but he noticed it and tugged on your hair, making you open your mouth just slightly, just enough for him to slip his tongue in and caress your own. Fuck, he tasted so good, like whiskey and lust and everything you wore this dress for tonight. Your entire body feels like it’s sparking with electricity everywhere that he’s touching you, where your ass is against his lap, where his hand is on your hip, where his hand is tangled in your hair. You sit now, still in the position you just kissed in, but with only your foreheads pressed together, your mouths inhaling and exhaling within an inch each other. He's probably breathing heavy from the effort and lack of air but you’re breathing heavy from the fucking horny tailspin he’s just sent your body into. It’s taking everything in you not to ask him for more.
“Holy shit, that was porn.” Torres says, sounding both impressed and surprised.
“How do two people who barely get along kiss each other like that?” Sam demands to know, and you can feel his stare boring into the back of your head.
“You remember what we all do for a living, right Sam?” You ask, pulling away from Bucky’s embrace and turning back around to face the rest of the group. You get more comfortable now, leaning against Bucky as he stretches his arms out on both of the armrests and sinks into the chair a bit. You’re both more at ease now, as if the kiss melted away some of the tension. The group raves over the kiss, and what they think was chemistry, rather than simply two experienced operatives who happen to be good kissers being forced into a situation together. Bucky, ready for the moment to be over with, grabs your left hip with his vibranium hand to hold you steady as he leans forward and spins the bottle. The shift in position reveals something, or more makes you feel something. His hard cock pressing against your right thigh. You turn your head to look down at him as he’s leaning back in the chair again and he makes eye contact with you, his smirk from earlier gone and his expression once again one of indifference. God, he’s really fucking good at acting like nothing fazes him.
“Sam, tell us about your last date.” Bucky says, his eyes still locked on yours. He must’ve seen the bottle spin to a stop in his peripheral vision. As Sam reluctantly begins to tell his tale, capturing everyone’s attention but yours and Bucky’s, you turn to the group once more and lean against Bucky again.
“Something in your pocket?” You question jokingly under your breath, still feeling his boner present underneath you.
“Stop talking.” He responds just as quietly, his tone sending a chill through your body. Why is it so fucking hot when he talks to you like that? It should infuriate you, the way he warns you and acts so demanding and in charge. Instead, all you can think about is him talking to you like that in bed. You swear, after tonight, you’ll never touch Asgardian liquor again.
The game continued on for another half an hour before the party began dwindling down until only about twenty or so guests were left. You still sit comfortably on Bucky’s lap, his dick as hard as it was when you kissed earlier, and yourself no less inebriated than you were then.
You shift on his lap, a little worried that you might be putting his left leg to sleep. Suddenly, you feel his hands on both of your hips, gripping you tightly and stilling you instantly. The room is still fairly dark and noisy with the music and drunken conversations that are being held all around, so you doubt anyone will notice his sudden shift in position.
“Don’t move.” He groans lowly in your ear, leaning forward so his chest presses firmly against your back. You stiffen against him, your eyes closing for a second as his voice and touch once again send your senses into overdrive. The game ended five minutes ago, so you should really get off of his lap now. Your phone, which currently sits on the coffee table in front of you vibrates and as Bucky sits back in the chair again, you let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You know he heard your phone vibrate, so hopefully he doesn’t mind you leaning forward to grab it.
Sharon: Are you staying with me tonight or going back to the tower?
“You’re staying in the tower.” Bucky says, clearly reading the message over your shoulder. You push yourself out of his lap now, turning around to face him as he adjusts his suit pants and sits up a little straighter to hide the situation going on in his pants.
“That’s the second time tonight that you’ve tried to make decisions for me.” You point out, staring down at him. Really, who does he think he is? He’s always seemed overly confident to you, but trying to tell you who you can’t sleep with and now where you’re spending your night? He’s crossing lines left and right. You watch him carefully from a short distance as his gaze follows Sam and Sharon, who are saying goodbye to a few friends near the elevator. Sam offered to drive Sharon home, since she definitely can’t be trusted to get herself there safely.
“You listened to me the first time.” Bucky says confidently, shifting his gaze back to you now, but keeping a serious expression on his face rather than the playful, cocky one that you know so well on him.
“Did I? Because I remember you telling me to go home and take care of myself, and I haven’t done that.” You glance down at your phone to text Sharon back while you wait for whatever smart ass reply Bucky is going to spew out next. You’re just about to text her and say that you’d love to have a sleepover when you hear Bucky’s low, sure-of-himself laugh. You look at him once more, your thumbs hovering over your phone screen. The way he looks in that chair, with that fucking smirk slowly taking over his features, makes you rethink what you were about to say to Sharon.
“Yet.”
---
Everything smells like him. And why wouldn’t it? You’re in his room, lying on his bed, with him standing just a few feet from the foot of the bed, his eyes roaming over every inch of your body. You still have your dress on but you feel naked in front of him like this.
“Are you getting shy on me now?” Bucky taunts, mischief gleaming behind his eyes as he takes in your timid expression and flushed cheeks. Sam chose to drive Sharon all the way back to her apartment across town, while Bucky quickly stepped up to give you a ride back to the tower. Somehow, along the way, the truth or dare game continued until you ended up accepting a dare to do exactly what Bucky said, to go home and take care of yourself. However, the dare came with a new stipulation: you had to take care of yourself while he watched.
“Yeah, I’m shy.” You respond sarcastically, pushing yourself off of his bed and trekking across the room to stand immediately in front of him. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he hopes the stance hides the racing of his heart from you. The stance most definitely doesn’t hide the raging boner straining against the front of his dress pants though. There probably isn’t a pair of pants in the world that could hide something so prominent. You stand close to Bucky, breathing in his intoxicating scent for a moment before closing your eyes and letting a serene smile cross your lips.
Bucky stands frozen when you begin slipping the straps of your dress down your shoulders. The muscle along the side of his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth together when you reach back and easily unzip your dress. And when you finally let the small piece of burgundy fabric fall the the floor? Hell, he’s done for.
You open your eyes once you’re fully exposed to him, peering up at him with the most innocent look you can muster.
“Fuck this.” Bucky grumbles, losing every ounce of self-control he was harnessing as his hands grasp the sides of your face and he kisses you with so much desperation that you feel something awaken inside you. He uses the same move from earlier, tugging on the hair at the nape of your neck to get you to part your lips enough for him to taste your mouth. Fuck, you taste like his favorite whiskey. Your body moves on auto-pilot as Bucky walks you backward until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. With a less-than-gentle shove, Bucky sends you falling onto his bed. His hungry eyes travel all over your skin, over the perfect peaks of your breasts, the smooth skin along your abdomen that leads him straight down to what he needs most right now. Your cunt.
The way he’s looking at you can only be described in one way: animalistic. You’re sure he’s going to be back on top of you within seconds, but no, this fucking man sinks to his knees on the floor at the foot of the bed. He effortlessly lifts your legs over his shoulders, and then leans into you, kissing your clit so softly that you whimper. With all of the tension between the two of you tonight, you wouldn’t have expected him to be so gentle.
“You taste so fucking good.” Bucky groans against your folds, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all the way down until he reaches your entrance. That’s when he stops being so gentle. That’s when he steals a glance at you, taking in the way your chest heaves with arousal and the way your hands are already gripping his bedsheets. That’s when he can’t stop himself from plunging two thick fingers into you and curling them, letting his fingertips drag against the walls of your pussy.
“Bucky!” You cry out, your back arching off the bed and thighs shaking over his shoulders.
“You could’ve taken care of yourself.” He reminds you, setting a relentless pace with his hand. He fucks those two fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. Every move he makes ignites your nerve endings more and more, until your nervous system is nearing a damn firework show. “You could’ve laid here and gotten yourself off for me.”
The moans and curses falling from your lips are nothing short of sinful, and every sound sends another rush of blood straight to Bucky’s already-hard cock.
“You’re so fucking stubborn. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted to end up in my bed tonight.” His voice is dripping with lust and you can almost hear the smirk that’s surely painted across his face as you come undone at his hands.
“Bucky…” You can’t say a damn thing except for his name. Even as he finger fucks you straight through your orgasm, and starts slowing down his movements, you can’t form a single word in your mind.
“Look at you.” Bucky coos, sliding his fingers out of your pussy one last time. You’re lying there so still with your eyes still scrunched closed. You completely miss the way Bucky closes his own eyes as his sucks the taste of you off of his fingers. He knows he should’ve held you to the dare and made you get yourself off. He never should’ve tasted you. He never should’ve felt how tight and wet your pussy is for him.
Now that he knows how sweet you taste, how nicely your pussy would fit around his cock, how fucking perfect you sound when you’re cumming for him, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to let you leave his room.
TAG LIST:
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#mcu#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#12 days of smut
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“What the fuck is this?”
Potter, in a fit of rage, is quite the sight to behold. Magic sizzles around him, errant curls escape his lazy bun, spectacles sit a touch too crooked on his nose.
Draco sips his tea. “A transfer request.”
“For Merlin’s sake—“ Potter rubs the bridge of his nose, a tell Draco’s learnt to mean he’s confused and scattered, and entirely unwilling to admit it. “I can read, Malfoy. Why?”
“Article 9, Section 3 of the Auror Code of Conduct—“
“No,” Potter cuts him off. “Absolutely not.”
Draco puts his tea down.
“I wouldn’t have thought,” he begins, slow and careful, “that you’d have already forgotten— what we did. Right in this office, in fact.”
“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Potter says. The transfer request is crumpling in his fist.
“Then you also remember it’s against the rules for us to remain partners—“
Potter stalks closer, until he’s towering over Draco’s desk. Draco’s mouth is desert-dry.
“Fuck the rules,” he says. This close, his scar always takes Draco by surprise, stark and ridged and white, cutting across his forehead and the top of his cheekbone. This close, now and every other time, he’s a riot of messy intensity. Draco can’t look away. “Merlin, Draco, when have I given a fuck about the rules? You leave me, I leave the MLE, there’s no point—”
“Potter,” Draco says. He’s weak and has never resisted temptation well. It’s no surprise this is all it takes for him to reach and cup Harry’s jaw, jittery thumb catching on the stubble shadowing his cheek. “Harry, I’m not that special.”
“Tell me you’re doing this because you think you have to,” Harry says, quiet and low. “Tell me you felt like you must, and not because you— because you want to get away from me. If it’s that, then I won’t stand in—“
“Don’t be silly.” It comes out sharp and affectionate, and Harry’s shoulders relax a little. “Nobody—“ he swallows, “—nobody else I’d trust to get my coffee order right, is there?” A flicker of a smile. Draco’s spirit sings. “Or—“ he says, huge and irrevocable and far too honest, “have my back in a fight. Only. It’s only you, isn’t it?”
Harry’s hand comes up, covers Draco’s where it still rests, trembling and uncertain on his cheek. He pulls it away, and for a split second Draco almost panics, until he realises Harry is lacing their fingers together, grip tight.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” Harry says. “The— us.” His mouth ghosts over Draco’s knuckles, warm and soft and plaintive. “I wanted it so long, Draco.”
“It wasn’t a mistake,” Draco acquiesces.
They stare at each other, long, silent moments, breaths heavy.
“I’ll stay,” Draco nods eventually. “Of course I’ll stay, all you had to do was ask, just, say something Potter. Don’t you know that?”
Harry lights up with a grin so broad Draco wants to taste it, dip his tongue into it, merge his mouth with—
But Harry’s stepping back, towards the dustbin in the corner. Draco has a moment of confusion before Harry straightens out the transfer request still bunched in his grip and rips it to pieces. The parchment flutters, confetti-like, to the floor.
“You’re stuck with me,” Harry says, serious and determined, even though the smile hasn’t quite left his mouth. “Right here.”
“Where else—“ Draco clears his throat when the words come out raspy and tangled, “Harry. Where else would I possibly want to be?”
for the @drarrymicrofic prompt “pieces”. dipping my toes back in here after years and i could not stop thinking about messy auror partners!
#drarry#drarrymicrofic#draco malfoy#harry potter#hpdm#hpdm fanfic#drarry fic rec#drarry fic#auror partners#workplace shenanigans#geets tries to get back into writing
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MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE OF SECRET LIFE!!!!!
so i sped-wrote this as soon as i learned who the winner was this morning, tried to post it twice, tumblr mobile deleted it BOTH TIMES... but i will not be silenced ive finally gone to desktop /silly
this will go up on my rough draft pseud soon, but until then please enjoy the results of me being EXTREMELY unwell about the secret life finale. WOOOOOO WE ARE POPPING THE BIGGEST OF BOTTLES TODAY FR!!!!!!!!!!!
Grian barricades himself at the top of the highest tower of Tango's citadel the moment he wakes up.
It's a calculated move, admittedly. There are a precious few places one might still find him if he truly wants to hide, but the Deep Frost Citadel isn't one of them— and with the second Decked Out coming to a ceremonious close, foot traffic here is perilously low. Dawn is a swift-approaching knife on the horizon, and Grian soars above it all, face numb with chill wind, wings brazen and feathers strewn across an empty sky.
He doesn't want to be near when Scar wakes.
And he doesn't want to be found just yet, either. Oh, Scar will track him down. Of that, he has no doubt— but for now, Grian takes solace in the snow crunching underfoot as he locks himself inside this barren tower.
It's dark here, which suits Grian just fine. He doesn't bother lighting a lantern; instead, he huddles right on the floor, letting the ice seep through him. From here, he can just make out the sky as it lightens, bringing with it the dawn of a new victor.
Nausea boils in his throat. With that victory comes a price, and Scar—
And Grian—
Well. Grian hasn't treated him very well throughout the games, now, has he?
He curls in on himself even further, feathers brushing along the length of his chilled arms. Each hair stands at attention, in some vain effort to pull warmth from the surrounding freeze— when he scrubs a hand along his arm, his fingers shake, and the gooseflesh remains stark and raised against his skin.
There was a sand-drenched point when the concept of warmth was all he could register— scorching wind scraping the cut on his cheek, the scarlet splatter of blood across split knuckles. And like the steady drain of life from a corpse, that warmth has drawn away, poison from a putrid wound— it leaves him compacting this cold, this loneliness, to mold it into four high walls around his heart; a fitting tribute to every grain of trust he's rightfully lost. Grian huffs the barest traces of a bitter laugh as his breath mists in the air. A better man would meet Scar at his base, extend his support, no matter how icily it might be met.
But Grian is selfish, and a coward, and will always be a coward— and so instead he sits, marrow freezing, with only the thin garrotte of paltry sunlight wrapping itself around his tender throat to keep him company.
And there he stays, motionless, for long enough that the chill makes a home in him— the glistening, pale yolk of the sun warns him of the passing time, a watery heat that counts down the seconds to minutes to hours until Scar finds him. Grian curls his wings around himself, a pitiful embrace, and waits.
Two hours later, the whistle of rocket-propelled elytra warn him of incoming company. Grian doesn't bother fleeing; he knows Scar, and Scar knows him, and with this last, missing puzzle piece finally slotting into place between them, he's under no illusions that staying hidden for long is feasible. Grian's eyes skitter to a crack on the far wall as clumsy footsteps scatter the snow outside, scrabbling for balance before the muted click of a cane joins them. Footsteps; another, louder click— the door's latch gives way, and a brief, blinding wave of light crashes over Grian's face, obscuring everything but the outline of a painfully familiar silhouette.
Grian has to look away. The door shuts, and for a small moment, neither of them so much as breathe.
Then Scar's sighs— one great, resigned gust. "Grian...."
He says nothing else. He doesn't have to. Grian draws his legs up to his chest in response anyway, heart a frozen pump bleeding ice into his very veins. What can he say? An apology? They're past apologies, now— if Scar wanted to disavow him forever, take the crumpled remains of their friendship and throw it at his feet, he'd be right to do so.
But Scar doesn't shout; neither does he leave. Instead, his cane taps forward, boots sliding into Grian's line of vision— and, with a grunt of effort, Scar eases himself down, until he's sitting at a safe diagonal from Grian's hunched form.
Neither of them say anything for a while.
Eventually, Grian licks his lips. They're chapped from cold, thin and ready to split. "Hi, Scar," he says softly. It comes out weak, thready— a barely-there declaration. Whatever Scar wants here... he can take it. It's the very least Grian can do at this point.
From the corner of his eye, he watches Scar settle, shifting his weight before he lands on something approximating comfort. He takes his time with it, blind— or uncaring— to the erratic snarl of Grian's pulse. His voice is just as quiet when he responds. "So... that's it, then, huh."
Grian glances over properly before he can stop himself, stomach churning; Scar's gaze has slipped to the cutout acting as a window, middle-distant and lost. Locked on something only he can see. Then Scar shakes himself, an abrupt jerk of his head and shoulders, and that glassy look turns to pin Grian directly to the wall behind him instead. "Just like that?"
Grian's fingers tighten around his knees. "Just like that," he agrees, hollow.
Scar mulls that over for a moment. His sigh is a wisp of white in front of them, crystallizing in the glacial atmosphere. "Jeez," he says finally, scrubbing one hand through the tangled bird's nest of his hair. He must have flown across half the server as soon as he... remembered, Grian realizes with a visceral pang. "I didn't... that's a lot of memories to just, um, gain back on a dime, huh?"
Grian darts a sidelong glance at him. Shifts his wings until their primaries lower, sweeping the ground around his feet like a feathered cat's cradle. "I wouldn't know," he says, a quirk of black humor dancing around the edges of his mouth. He swallows. "Since. Well...."
He trails off. Imagines, briefly, that he is a black hole— a quasar. A neutron star. Something so tight and compact it can string him out, erase him; a ball of grief and misery dense enough that it contains its own event horizon.
Scar hums a little shakily into the blooming silence. "Yeah. I guess that would complicate things, wouldn't it." A pause. "Does it always feel—?"
Grian shrugs. "Don’t know that either, Scar."
"Oh." Scar's still looking at him, the searchlight of his gaze burning pockmarks into Grian's skin. "Cool, okay... so...." He hesitates, teeth worrying his lower lip, before finally forging on: "So what now?"
Grian sucks in his own shuddery breath. "Whatever you want, Scar," he says, blank and dull. Every inch of him frozen stiff, awaiting the tipped scales of Scar’s judgement. "There's no going back, after this." The quicksilver flash of a grimace tugs his lips back to reveal sharp, white teeth. "Welcome to the club, I guess."
"It sure is a warm welcome," Scar says weakly. "Got— uh, got your complimentary balloons, and— and um, a whole gift basket of... of...."
He trails off too, the fragile ley lines of his humor peeling off, cracking at the seams. Impossibly, Grian curls around himself tighter.
An apology is nothing but wasted air now, but it dredges from his throat anyway. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Scar. I—" He breaks off, jaw tight. "I'm... I'm not sure what else to say, honestly. I never thought...."
I never thought you'd win. It's a cruel phrase that haunts the air between them, hanging like a smoky pall across their shoulders.
Scar says nothing against it; he only watches.
An uneasy prickle crawls up Grian's spine. "You don't—" He stops himself before he can finish that thought. "Are you— Scar, why are you here?"
"'Cause Pearl's not talking to me yet," Scar says quietly, prompt. "And— and because I remembered. Us."
Grian's throat closes around the word. "Us," he echoes, a rough rasp that ricochets against the deepslate walls surrounding them. The word tears through his ears, distorting with each pass. "Look, alright— I-I don't know if you got the memo, exactly, but— I'm not—"
He breaks off again, lungs jarring, hitching in his chest. Hot prickles sear behind his eyes, but nothing drops— he’s too tired for crying. "I've hurt you a lot, Scar," Grian says at last, lips numb around the words. "I'm not sure if there's much of an 'us' left, at this point."
"I know," Scar says. His eyes reflect the snow-glitter outside.
"And— I wouldn't blame you, if you left right now."
"I know," Scar says again, softer.
"I—” Grian stares at him, helpless. "Okay, then why are you here, Scar?" He gestures between them, an aimless motion that somehow encompasses the breadth of everything that's rotted at their foundations. "If you know all that, then what—?"
Scar regards him with enviable poise. His throat bobs as he speaks. "Maybe, I just— now that I remember— maybe I just want your company, Grian. Is that really so bad?"
Grian stares at him, at a loss. "I don't understand," he says finally, and it comes out plaintive even to his own ears. "I thought you'd be— angry. After everything I've done, after all that's happened.... What's your play here, Scar? If you want to yell at me, be my guest. I think by now I've more than earned it."
But Scar doesn't take the bait. Instead, he shuffles closer— just by an inch. A careful, cautious inch. "Y'know," he says, apropos of nothing, "and correct me if I'm wrong, here— but I seem to remember something about you wanting an alliance before all of... that crazy stuff happened. Is that right?"
Something in Grian's chest spasms. Whatever expression it spreads across his face must spur Scar on, because he scoots closer again, just enough to bring their calves together. The brief shock of warmth explodes through Grian's skin, worming its way underneath the subcutaneous tissue to flood his veins and gnaw at the lingering ice.
After a moment, Scar's lips tilt up— a subtle, fragile smile. "Is it too late to cash in on that?" he asks.
Grian's mind goes blank, white and buzzing, the thin hiss of a creeper drifting through it like smoke. Unfiltered shock threads through his voice. "You want t— what?"
Scar's smile tempers further around its edges, stretching into something softer, knowing. Rounded out. With solemn motions, he reaches into the pocket of his utterly ridiculous safety vest, and delicately pulls something out.
It's a sunflower.
In the frigid gloom of Tango's citadel, Grian gapes, the brilliant yellow petals incongruous with this grim, grit, darkened room. When he looks up, Scar's eyes are overbright, painfully earnest— brimming with a desperate urgency that tucks itself away in the depths of his pupils.
"Can we try again?" Scar says, soft as the new-fallen snow beyond this isolated cell of misery. "Start over? I— I kind of hurt you too, you know. And— for the record, being without you sucks. I don't—" He falters. "I know it's gonna be all weird, y’know, between us… but I don't want to do that anymore. I just... want you here, Grian. That's all. I just want you to stick around."
Grian sucks in a sharp, daggered breath. "You're joking," he breathes, but his heart leaps, tumbling from his throat and onto the floor for Scar to stomp at his leisure. "You're actually— this isn't funny."
"Hey, do you see me laughing?” Scar presses forward once more, a calculated attack, but still slow enough for Grian to track each move, to stop him if he cared enough to. Gently, Scar unwinds one of Grian's hands from his knees, cupping it between his own and brushing the lightest of kisses against his knuckles before turning over Grian’s palm and pressing the flower into it. Grian's fingers curl around it of their own accord, silky petals burning against his fingers.
"So." Scar smiles, tremulous, eyes suspiciously red-rimmed. "Can we still be friends?"
And Grian has always been a raw creature, a tangled wreck of his own selfish greed— he’s craved the honeyed umber of Scar's love since he first cradled it, tentatively, in his palms all that time ago. In the depths of his heart, there will always be that sandstone cliff, the crack of his bones against hard-packed sand, and wings too clipped to fly freely. There will always be that calloused fist around his heart, and beyond his own scrabbling fear, there will always, always be that fervent need to bring Scar close even as he pushes him away.
And where before, Scar had been playing blind, a game with no true rules… now, his eyes trap Grian against the wall, clear as glass— diamond sharp and just as steady. From a winning game, there is no turning back. There’s nothing left to lose here, except this porcelain trust, this shred of hope Scar offers him once more in the form of a flower.
Even after everything, all the memories flooding back— Scar is still here, holding Grian’s heart, and offering up his own in return.
Grian slowly presses it to his chest with trembling, vulnerable motions. "You're sure you want this."
"I'm sure I want you," Scar says, unwavering.
Grian breathes in. Breathes out. Inhale and exhale, both a heavy drag in his lungs. Already, the sun is beginning to strengthen, casting thick rays through the window and splaying them across Grian’s lap. The advent of gilded noon weaves around them, perfuming the air with light and heat.
"Okay," Grian says at last, and it drops from his lips with the weight of a confession; a relinquishment; a solemn vow. "Okay."
This time, when Scar reaches for his hand again, Grian meets him halfway, and the tangle of their fingers nets the sunflower in a promise neatly between them.
#scarian#desert duo#desertduo#goodtimeswithscar#grian#secret life#secret life spoilers#trafficshipping#trafficblr#traffic series#mcyt#hermitcraft#hermitshipping#mcyt fic#shouting speaks#my fics#THREE TIMES THE CHARM PLEASE POST PLEASE POST PLEASE POST I'LL CRY#i had to take an hour in between attempting this again RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH I WILL NOT BE SILENCED LET ME LIIIIIIVE#anyway im so unwell. imm so unwell#gods. scargirls we are WINNINGGGGGGGG LFGGGGG#HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS I CANT WAIT TO POST IT TO AO3#txt
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Push him
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you.
Words count: 6.8k (opps)
Warnings: reader is wearing short clothes, Wanda and Nat are the best, Sam is a little ass, Bucky stares at you A LOT, he’s grumpy, SMUT, p in v, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampie, Bucky has a dirty mouth, pet names.
Author’s note: I finally finished my work, which I had been writing for way too long. But I’m kinda proud of it, lol. Hope you’ll enjoy it too🩷
masterlist my ao3 ko-fi
The work at the Avengers Tower wasn’t what you expected it to be. Tony Stark found you while you were working for another company a little bit more than a month ago. He was amazed by the way you were dealing with problems, by your charisma, and by your ability to find a common language with everyone. That’s how he knew that he had to have you as his partner and a part of the team.
The next day, you got a call directly from Tony, asking you to quit your job and accept his offer to work as Avenger’s PR manager. It would be an understatement to say that your jaw dropped to the floor when you heard your salary.
He said that you were totally worth it and that working with a group of such different people was not easy, but he was sure that you would be perfect at this. So on that exact day, you decided to take a risk and accept the challenge.
One thing that you hated about your previous job was the strict dress code. It was simply far from your style because you hated wearing the same basic and boring clothes every day. Tony said that it was the last thing that he cared about, and in that building, no one was obligated to wear certain clothes.
You knew that it was your lucky ticket.
He was actually really friendly and funny in person. You talked a lot during your first day while he was showing you all the necessary places in the tower: your office, his lab, common rooms and kitchens, avenger’s rooms, and even a beautiful garden on the roof. By the way, Tony allowed you to decorate your office however you wanted and gave you the number of the person who was responsible for this.
In short, it was perfect.
You were giddy with excitement on your first actual day of work. According to the plan, you had to meet with the Avengers and then arrange a few meetings for Tony.
It felt like you spent hours before your mirror deciding what to wear. Your whole room was a mess, and when you finally completed your look, which consisted of a short black skirt, beige long sleeve and a brown leather jacket on top, it was already time to go.
Everyone in the room heard you before they saw you because of the sound of your heels clicking on the wood floor.
“Don’t tell me that this is our PR manager, Stark.” Black Widow looked you up and down with a smirk on her face. “You look good, hun. Finally, someone with a taste in this boring group of losers, besides me and Wanda, of course.”
“Hi.” You nicely smiled, not ready to get a compliment as soon as you stepped into the room.
“Ohh, she’s also the sweet one.” Another red-headed woman, Wanda, said with a smile.
“You both, shut up.” Tony stood up from the armchair with a pack of chips in one hand and threw the other one over your shoulder. “Want some?” He asked you, showing the food, but you slightly shook your head. “Whatever… Now, you all listen here, this is Y/N; she’s our new PR manager. I stole her from someone because she’s incredibly smart and good at her job. Starting from this moment, she’s going to cover up your asses and organize all this stupid media stuff.” You blushed at his words but were still silent. “So, this is Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Bucky, and Th—wait, you already know them, right?”
“Yeah, of course I do.” You chuckled. “By the way, it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope we can work together, and I will have a chance to be helpful.” You took a look at all the Avengers in the room, and everyone looked at you with a smile except one person, whose eyes sent shivers down your spine.
When you looked at Bucky, you saw that his eyes were scanning your body with an unreadable expression, and you suddenly felt really weird in your short skirt. Your eyes met, and his famous death stare was really quite scary. He didn’t like you? You two were staring at each other for a few seconds, and you believe that the rest of the team noticed it because Steve loudly cleared his throat to get your attention.
He asked you a few questions about you, and Clint and Sam made a few jokes. Everything was fine as you all chatted for a little bit until Tony said that everyone should get ready for tomorrow’s mission, and you too have a lot to do.
You went back to your office only with the thought that, during this whole time, Bucky was staring at you like he wanted to burn a hole in your head.
Later that day, Bucky was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of already-cold coffee while Steve was making himself dinner. It was quiet besides the sound of the cooking food, or at least Bucky didn’t listen to Steve’s words because he was too deep in his thoughts.
Well, he was mostly thinking about you and his mixed feelings about this interaction. As soon as you walked into the room, you had his whole attention. He couldn’t help but stare at your body, at your open legs, and at your smiley face. He knew that he sounded like a total creep and that it was inappropriate to look at other people this way, but he had never seen women dress this way. Was it normal right now? Was it new fashion trends or something? The only women that he had been interacting with for the past few years were women from Wakanda, and in the tower it was mostly Nat and Wanda, and he had never seen them dress like that. Or, at least, he just didn’t care enough to notice it.
When he saw you today, he felt something in him, and he didn’t like that feeling. It was something new, something that he had never experienced before, but his body became tense and his stomach tightened. It was weird.
“What, you're still trying to process her?” He was distracted from his thoughts by Sam, who came to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge. Bucky looked at him and furrowed his brows when he saw a shitty smirk.
“What the fuck are you talking about? And why are you smiling like an idiot?” Bucky growled.
“Because you’re thinking about Y/N.” His words caught Steve’s attention, and he came closer.
“That’s why you two were staring at each other like that?” Steve said this while drying his hands with a towel. “Do you like her? I think she seems cute.”
“No, I don’t. She just looks... different.”
“Oh, the old man got excited by the beautiful woman and her short skirt.” Sam’s smile got even wider as he started teasing Bucky. “You know, I wanted to ask her out, but I can take a step back if you like her.” He leaned on the table so he could get under Bucky’s skin even more.
“I do not like her.”
“So you’re okay if I ask her out? Maybe I should go to her office right now.” Sam pretended like he was really thinking about this.
“Sam...” Steve said.
“You both are just getting on my fucking nerves.” Bucky’s chair almost fell to the floor when he angrily stood up. “Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care about you or her.” With these words, he stormed out of the room, and Sam started to laugh out loud.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” Steve shook his head like a disappointed mother whose kids always fight.
“That was fun, and maybe it’ll push him to ask her out. She’s hot, but not my type; I’m just trying to help this idiot.”
You have been working with the Avengers for over a month now. This work was literally a dream from any angle. You were making a lot of money, doing the job that you really liked, and found a lot of close friends.
Almost everyone on the team was very close to you. Natasha and Wanda were particularly your best friends. Sam was the funniest person you’ve ever met, and he always found time to tease you or to make a compliment. Bruce and Clint were like your uncles—a little bit old and annoying, but always with a piece of advice for you. A few times, you and Steve met at the gym when you came to work too early, so he was happy to train with you. Who would’ve thought that Captain America himself would teach you how to throw a punch?
The only pain in your ass was Bucky Barnes. Well, to be fair, he didn’t do anything. You’re not even sure that you heard his voice. He was always just staring. Any time that you came to the room and he was there, you either saw him from the corner of your eyes or felt his burning gaze on your back.
To this day, you had no problems with your job. You organized a few interviews for Tony and Steve, talked to the newspapers and magazines, and held some meetings, but right now, sitting on your white chair, you felt weirdly nervous.
Bucky had to come here any minute to talk about a recent accident. Apparently, he almost knocked out someone on the street. All the press and news sources were taking advantage of the situation and using loud headlines to cast a shadow on Bucky and get more views. “The Winter Soldier is back?”. “The Winter Soldier almost killed an innocent man on the street.”
It has been the biggest topic on the internet for the past few hours. Most of the people were furious and wrote too many inappropriate and rude things. So you asked FRIDAY to call Bucky so you could know the whole situation and give comments to the press as soon as possible.
You started thinking about what you should do, or, to be more honest, how to behave around Bucky, because a few days ago two red-headed women that you now considered your best friends assured you that he is in love with you and just doesn't know what to do with it.
You told them everything about his weird actions—that he always looked at you, checked your clothes, and stayed silent. Natasha and Wanda just looked at each other with smirks on their faces.
“Why are you looking at each other like that?” You arched an eyebrow and crossed your hands across your chest.
“Please, don't tell me that you don't understand his behavior.” Natasha looked at you and sipped her coffee.
Well, I wouldn’t have asked you if I knew the reason.”
“Honey, he lust likes you and thinks that you’re hot. You remember that he’s actually an old man, right? Women from his time didn’t dress like that, and you look really sexy.” Wanda’s words made Nat nod her head as you looked weirdly at both of them.
“That’s bullshit, Wanda. This can’t be true. I'm sure that he just doesn’t like me and thinks that I look too revealing. Or he just hadn’t had a girlfriend in a long time.”
“Some time ago, I came to the kitchen at like 2 a.m. just in my lingerie because I thought everyone was asleep. Barnes was sitting there with a book, and you know what? He just said “Hi” and didn’t even look at me again while I was making a sandwich. And when he sees you, he just can’t take his eyes away and stares like an idiot.”
You stayed silent, thinking about the girls' words, because everything seemed pretty reasonable.
“And what should I do?”
“I don’t know, seduce him or something.” Natasha just casually said it, and your eyebrows flew to your hairline.
“Wait, do you like him?” Wanda asked you, and Natasha huffed like it was obvious.
“I mean… he’s beautiful. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him, but Steve and Sam love him, and I trust their opinion.” You stopped trying to put together your thoughts. “To be honest, sometimes I think about the fact that he’s probably one of the hottest people I’ve ever seen. When we studied history at school, all the girls fell in love with America's Boy, and I with his best friend.”
“Then don’t wait. Just give him some hints, because I swear, for the ladies’ man, he’s too slow.” Natasha’s words made you smile. “Try to get closer to him; I don’t know, flash him with your boobs and look at the reaction. Push him a little bit. He’ll break.”
The loud knock on the door almost made you jump out of your chair.
“Come in.” You said this as you stood up and fixed your white dress and cardigan.
Bucky came probably to the lightest and most cozy room in the whole tower. A lot of white and pastel colors, comfy sofa and armchairs, and paintings on the wall. And in the middle of this was you—always perfectly looking, in heels, in a too-short dress, and with a smile on your face. He couldn't stop himself from looking at the smooth skin of your legs. It’s probably so soft...
“Em– Hi.” You awkwardly stood while his eyes were scanning your body. He didn’t answer; he just nodded. “So I think that we can sit there, it’s more comfortable.” You wave your hand at the sofa with a fluffy cover on it. “Do you want anything? Tea, coffee, water, soda?” Bucky just shook his head while he was trying to comfortably sit with a frown on his face.
You deeply inhaled while trying to be a professional. You didn’t know what was wrong with this man, but his behavior started to get on your nerves.
“Bucky, we can’t work together if you keep ignoring me. You can say if you don’t like something, because I don’t want to be on bad terms with anyone.” You sat across from him and crossed your legs.
“I don’t know what I should say.” His deep voice filled the room. Bucky took a pillow that was lying near him and started playing with the fringe. “I feel weird when I’m around you, and I don’t like it. I have thoughts that I shouldn’t have.” His eyes scanned your body once again, and you wondered if he was talking about what you thought.
“Can I do something to change it?”
“No.” He deeply inhaled. “It’s my own problem, and it’s not your job to try to fix it. Anyway, why am I here?”
“I think you know why. I need to ask you about the recent incident because I have a meeting with the press in less than an hour, and I have to give them a good reason why you did that. People didn’t take all that information too well.” You saw that Bucky sadly smiled and looked you directly in the eyes, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “So, tell me what’s happened.”
“You know that whatever you say won’t change people’s opinions about me, right? No one forgave me, and they’re still looking for a chance to call me a murderer.” He tried to hide behind a smile, but you saw everything written in his eyes. Bucky hurt himself with his own words.
“I understand how you feel about this whole situation, but we should address all those rumors because things might get worse.” You leaned on your knees with your hands, and Bucky’s eyes immediately fell on your boobs.
Push him a little bit. He’ll break.
You tried to hold back a smirk.
“Fuck.” He mumbled. “ I– um– I was walking from the coffee shop to the tower. It was another busy street with hundreds of people, but I still didn’t expect someone to touch me. That man jumped on my back or something, and my instincts just worked. I threw him over myself on the ground and put a hand on his throat. Turned out he wanted to take a picture. But I panicked because there are many people who want to take revenge and who might want to do it literally any second. I’m always ready for this.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but you could hear the pain in his voice.
You felt deeply sorry for the man before you. Even if he was cold and acted weird around you, you knew that it was his way to protect himself. After everything he came through, you couldn’t blame him.
“Do you still go to the therapist?” You gently asked.
“Yes, two times a week.” Bucky nervously ran his right hand through his hair while still holding your pillow in the metal one.
“Okay, that’s good; I can work with this information.” You nodded and reached for your journal on the coffee table. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Bucky. I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to convince people that it was not your fault, okay?”
“Thank you, Y/N.” Bucky stood up, carefully putting your pillow in its place, and left your office without another word, while you were sitting there with a smile.
Maybe the girls were right.
After that day, everything between you and Bucky became even weirder. Yes, he wasn’t totally silent now, and you’ve got a few “Hi”, but his stares felt different.
It was like you two were playing some kind of game. Since you knew that he didn’t actually hate you, you tried to do as Natasha and Wanda said—get his attention and push more. And God, you loved that game.
Almost every day you found an opportunity or excuse to see him in common rooms or in the corridors of the Tower, and you made sure that Bucky noticed you. You wore tighter clothes, walked right past him, and looked at him with a smile. You knew that it was working because a few times Bucky just suddenly left the room while he was mumbling something.
It was almost 8 p.m., but you were still working on schedule for the next week. There was some kind of charity event, and Tony required you to convince everyone to go there because more Avengers can attract more sponsors and money. As always, Bucky was the one who refused to go there. He simply sees no reason for him to be there, and he doesn’t want to be there alone because he knows that Captain America will be the biggest star, and such a social butterfly as Sam will leave him in a second.
You decided that it would be better to talk to Bucky in person, but you didn’t want to lose a chance to get his attention, so you went by yourself instead of asking FRIDAY.
You looked in the small mirror to check your makeup and hair and went straight to where you knew Bucky was spending his evening. As you walked in a dark room filled with only light from the TV, you saw Sam and Steve sitting on the couch and Bucky on the armchair near them. You quietly walk to him and just casually sit on the armrest. His eyebrows flew to his hairline, and you heard that the chewing from the boys stopped. Bucky had no choice but to put his metal arm on your lower back.
“I need you in my office. You have to talk about the next charity event. Could you please give me some of your time?” You quietly asked and lowered yourself closer to him. Bucky was just staring at you for a few seconds, but then slightly nodded.
Bucky followed you to your office, not without getting smirks from the boys,and then stood near your table with his hands in his pockets.
“Don’t you want to sit?” You said and stepped closer to him.
“No.”
“Um– okay.” You took the papers from your table and stood in front of Bucky. “So, you know that there is going to be a charity event, and I’m responsible for getting all the Avengers there, and you are one of them.”
“I’m not going, I already told Tony.” He just shrugged.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not needed there. I’m not an actual hero, people have no interest in me, especially when there will be Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor, you know? Plus, I have no interest in sitting alone the whole night.” You saw that Bucky tried to be casual about it, but he just put salt on his own wound.
“Don’t say that, Bucky. There are people who want to see you there, you have a lot of fans. You know, I’m going there too, so if you don't mind, we can–”
“What game are you playing with me?” He interrupted you. Bucky straightened his shoulders, which made him look even bigger, and started moving closer to you, putting you in a trap between him and your desk.
“W– what do you mean?” You couldn't control your body as you started to tremble a little bit from the power that this man had. As soon as you bumped into the table, his hands landed on both sides of you, and his face was right in front of yours.
“Don’t act clueless, Y/N. I see what you’re doing.” He stopped for a second, studying your face. “You know, I tried to convince myself that you do all of this by accident, but now I’m sure that you’re just playing your little game. Am I right, doll?” You two were staring at each other, and you felt almost nauseous from different emotions.
He was so fucking beautiful up close. Piercing blue eyes, pink lips, and light stubble You know why many women thought that James Barnes was charming. If he had more confidence, he would’ve been unstoppable.
Your eyes slowly shifted lower to his arms and chest as you remained silent. He was big, with well-trained muscles that were seen through the tight black t-shirt. Both arms were stretched near you, so you had a really good opportunity to look at the smooth tanned skin and beautiful dark vibranium. You felt how your lower stomach tightened just from the thought of getting those pretty hands on your body…
You were pulled out of your head by a sudden movement of Bucky’s hand, which gripped your face and pushed your lips together. He was obviously dominating in the kiss, as if he were desperate to taste you. The tip of his tongue brushed over your lips, asking for entrance, which you happily gave him. The moan came out of you when Bucky moved away and looked you in the eyes, still holding your face.
“This whole fucking time I thought that I was a creep for looking at you, but now I know that you did everything on purpose, doll.” His eyes moved between your eyes and mouth. “All these short skirts and dresses that almost showed me everything underneath it, all these innocent smiles and looks... You did it to tease me?”
“Not at first...” You mumbled. “But you were acting so weird, and girls said that you liked me and just didn’t know what to do. I wanted to find out whether it was true or not.”
“Fuck, if I knew earlier that this was your plan, I would’ve bent you over the nearest surface, baby.” Bucky moved a little closer, brushing his lips over yours. “Do you know how fucking hot and gorgeous you are? I haven’t felt that way in many, many years. Just wanna kiss you and make you mine.”
“And what’s stopping you from this, Sargent?” You asked with a smile and moved your hand to the back of his neck to gently play with the baby hairs.
“You’re gonna be my death, doll face.” He mumbled before leaning closer and kissing you again.
This time, you started to touch each other's bodies. Bucky’s warm and cold hands landed on your thighs, playing with the hem of the skirt and rubbing your soft skin after he lifted you up a little bit and helped you sit on the table, staying in between your legs. Your own hands were moving up and down his broad chest, discovering all of his muscles.
“Bucky…” You whined into the kiss when his finger brushed against the edge of your already wet panties.
“Tell me.” Bucky moved away from your swollen lips and left a path of kisses down your neck. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” He sucked a sensitive spot under your ear, which made you moan.
“I don’t know. Just do anything, please.” You both breathed heavily. You felt like you were too hot; your lower stomach ached, and your underwear was soaking wet. Bucky was looking at you with such lust in his eyes that you wanted him to destroy you.
“Lay back.” He ordered you as one of his hands went higher under your skirt and slid your black lace panties down your legs. You didn’t miss how Bucky shoved him into the back pocket of his jeans with a smirk on his face.
You quickly followed his instructions and just threw all the papers from our table on the floor. You’ll regret it later, but now you don't care. The sudden move of Bucky's metal arm grabbed and pulled your shirt, and all the buttons scattered on the floor, making you gasp in disbelief.
“Bucky! It was expensive.”
“Sorry, I’ll buy you whatever you want, I promise. But now I need to see you all.” He growled and fell to his knees before you. “Fuck, doll, such a pretty pussy. I’m gonna make a mess with her.”
Bucky’s hands grabbed both of your legs and threw them over his shoulders. He dragged your skirt higher, not wanting to take it off of you. His head fell on your right legs as he left a few kisses on your sensitive skin.
“Bucky please! Don’t tease me!” You desperately whined.
“I need a moment to appreciate both of you. I haven’t done it since the 40's, you know that?”
You wanted to say something, but his mouth on your most delicate part of your body left you speechless and made you grab his hair. Bucky’s tongue was gentle at first, just to get a taste of you and tease you a little bit. His tongue started to play with your clit, circling it and applying different pressures to find out what made your body twitch. It looked like he was enjoying it too; you felt deep grunts escaping his mouth as he was trying to catch every drop that came out of you.
Your loud moans filled the room as Bucky found the perfect place and made motions that made you see stars. A hand in his hair tightened even more when you felt one of his fingers at your entrance.
“M-hm, so wet and tight for me.” He pulled away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers came in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were firmly glued to your pussy, which was trying to get more, and his mouth opened a little bit at the sight. “Taking my fingers like a good girl.” Bucky attacked you with his mouth again. This time he was licking your folds, mixing his saliva with your juices. When the feeling of his nose touching your bundle of nerves came through your whole body, you gripped Bucky’s dark locks even harder, particularly trying to ride his face, and he had to put his metal hand on your hips so you wouldn’t move.
Your body tensed when he curled his fingers right on your g-spot, sucking your clit like a hungry man.
“Bucky—fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop!” You whined with tears running down your face.
A few more movements of his magical mouth, and you fell over the edge. Your legs tightened around his head, tingles went all over your body, and the loudest moan mixed with Bucky’s name came out of you as you were riding on the wave of your orgasm.
Bucky didn’t stop, though.
He made sure to lick every drop that came out of you, to the point that you had to beg him to stop because you were too sensitive.
“That was—“ You were trying to catch a breath. “That was the best orgasm I've ever had, oh my god. If you did it for the first time in like seventy years, I can’t imagine what you can do with practice.”
Bucky dragged you up by your neck, so you would be at the same level with him. His hand moved your hips closer to the edge of the table, and you felt how hard he was through those jeans.
“I can practice whenever you’ll allow me, doll.” He put his warm hand on your face to kiss you. The taste of your own release on his tongue made you moan.
“Need you inside of me, please.” Your hands automatically started to pull up his shirt, but he stopped you.
“We don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.”
You were silent for a few seconds. “Why wouldn’t I want to take your shirt off?”
“You know, my arm and scars...”
“Do you really think that I care about it?” You left a few kisses on his cheek. “I think that your arm is hot, by the way, and I want to feel your skin on mine, Sarge.” It was enough for Bucky to pull off his shirt and stay before you half-naked.
Your hands moved to trace every muscle, every birthmark, and every scar on his chest, and you felt that this moment was so intimate, especially because of Bucky’s stare. He looked at you with such adoration and softness that you wanted to melt.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” He mumbled and kissed you with even more passion.
Bucky ripped off the rest of your shirt and quickly took off your matching black bra, gripping your breasts with both hands and taking your left nipple in his hot mouth.
You dug nails into Bucky’s back as he was sucking and licking your nipples, leaving them wet in the cold air. It felt good. So fucking good—his mouth was truly amazing. But the emptiness inside of you was almost painful, and you were clenching around nothing.
“Bucky! Sarge, please, I need you.” You almost cried and dragged his head by the hair back to your mouth.
“Baby, baby, wait– “ His hot breath was touching your lips, but he stopped your hands, which were unbuckling his belt. “Baby, I don’t have a condom. Fuck, do you have one?”
“We don’t have to use it... I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” Your legs wrapped tighter around Bucky’s waist and put him closer to your naked core. He swore that he could feel your heat through his jeans and boxers.
“Fuck, I love twenty-first century... I’m clean too, can’t even catch a disease with this serum shit.”
His words were like a green light to you. You didn’t want to wait even a second more. So you just took off his pants with such speed and impatience that it made Bucky chuckle. With the last movement, all of his clothes were on the floor, and you sat on your table, frozen because of the sight before you.
Bucky’s thick and perfectly long dick was the best fucking thing that you’ve ever seen. Pink and a little bit curled to his abdomen. Your mouth watered just thinking about tasting it. Or how well he’ll stretch you out. You didn’t even notice how your mouth opened a little bit, and you unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.
“You’re gonna destroy me, Bucky.” You mumbled, to which you heard only a deep chuckle. Your eyes moved back to Bucky’s smiley face.
“I hope so.”
Two different hands landed on your thighs again, spreading and lifting them up. You both looked down at where his cock almost touched your bare folds, and the first contact made you moan loudly. Bucky took the base of his cock, giving himself a few pumps, and moved the tip up and down your pussy, moving easily because of the mixture of your juices.
You grabbed his forearm and whined at the action.
“Ready, doll?” He was trying to be tough and strong, but you saw how he nervously licked his lips, the tremble of his flesh hand, and the tension in his abdomen. But you still vigorously nodded.
It was different from everything you’ve ever experienced. He was big but tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt you. He only pushed a few inches, but you already wanted to cry from all the feelings inside of you. Pain mixed with extreme pleasure.
Bucky was trying so hard to control his motions and go slow, but God, it wasn’t easy. From the first touch of his cock, it felt like he had gone to heaven. He knew that sex was good, he remembers it, but the feeling of you and your warm body that so gracefully greeted him inside made him feral. Bucky felt such a need to kiss you that it was almost painful, especially when your swollen lips were a few inches away from his.
He leaned in closer to your lips, but it made him slip deeper into you, which made you both loudly moan into each other's mouths.
“Fuck– doll, you’re so warm and tight, oh my god.” Bucky mumbled as the grip on your hips became harder. It’ll probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care.
The feeling of him inside of you was overwhelming. He was so deep and stretched you just the way that you wanted, and you almost cried from pleasure.
“Please, Bucky, please move!”
His hips slightly moved once, and it felt like his mood instantly changed. You were suddenly pushed back on your table, and your legs, still in heels, were thrown on Bucky’s shoulders. His metal hand stayed on your thigh, and the other one fell on your stomach to push your skirt higher on your waist.
“All dressed up for me, baby.” He started slowly moving, burying his cock deep inside, and then leaving only the tip to tease you. “You know how long I wanted to do that, huh? Bend you over and just fuck the shit out of you until you can’t say anything except for my name.”
“Bucky– Sarge, please go faster. Just fuck me, do whatever you want.” You were desperate, yes. But you couldn't help but beg, because you really needed him to keep his promise and fuck the shit out of you.
You reached for his hand on your stomach and interlaced your fingers together.
“If you keep calling me that, I won’t last too long, doll.” His thrusts became harder and faster as your body moved up and down on your table.
Bucky was looking at your drunk-looking face with a slightly open mouth because you couldn’t keep your moans quiet. Your hair was deshiveled, your skin glimmered with sweat, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.
“So beautiful, baby.” Bucky murmured, fucking you harder. The room was filled with loud noises from slapping skin and moans. “You love it when I talk to you like that, huh? Want me to tell you what a good girl you are?” His words definitely did something to you, and you unconsciously tightened around him. “Almost choking my cock, baby, fu-u-ck.”
“Mhm, Sargent, I’m so full of you.” You couldn’t see straight as the tip of his head pressed at the perfect spot with every thrust, it was too much and not enough at the same time.
The wet kisses on the inner side of your thigh sent shivers down your whole body when Bucky started to suck tender skin. His rough movement didn’t stop for a moment, and you knew that your orgasm was getting closer. The warm feeling in your belly slowly became bigger. It was hard for you to cum from sex, but Bucky did it so fast and without even touching your clit.
“C’mon, doll face. I feel ‘ya. Feel how your perfect little pussy is squeezing me. Cum with me, baby, cum on my cock.” His movements were still rough and confident, but you felt the slightest change in the way he was looking at you, how his body trembled a little bit, and the prettiest quiet noises escaped his mouth as Bucky was coming to his own end.
You were completely lost in your pleasure, with strong arms on your body and Bucky’s hard cock that was completely destroying you, so when fingers on your clit started to move in circles, your body slightly jolted up from your table.
“Bucky, Bucky, please—ohmygod, I’m coming!” You cried out loud and grabbed the hard wood under your arms.
“O-oh, fuck, doll, cum with me, please. Yes, squeeze my cock harder, make a mess. ‘M gonna cum.” With the last few pushes of his dick inside of you and movements of the fingers, you both fell from your heights, and the room filled with loud moans of pleasure. The feeling of his hot seed on your walls almost made you faint.
Bucky fell down on your body as your leg slipped from his shoulder. Two strong arms wrapped around you, and Bucky’s face nuzzled into your neck. You don’t know how long you two stayed silent, trying to catch a breath, while your hands gently rubbed Bucky’s back.
When he finally lifted himself up with a metal arm near your face on the table, the look in his eyes sent millions of butterflies to your stomach.
“I don’t even know what to say…” He chuckled and cupped your face with his right hand. “You look so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”
“Even when my makeup, my hair, and my clothes are completely destroyed?” You playfully arched an eyebrow and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers on your hot skin.
“Well, I did it, and I’m satisfied with it. You still look so hot, especially with my dick still inside of you.”
“Bucky!”
“Sorry, sorry. But I’m serious, though. Will you let me take you on a date? Maybe yesterday for lunch or for dinner after work?” His eyes had this little bit of doubt, and you couldn’t stop your wide smile because he was really thinking that you would say “no” after that.
“I will be glad to go out with you, Buck.” You dragged his face closer and gave him the sweetest kiss you could.
Bucky moved away, gently slipping out of you, and you hissed at the empty feeling. He helped you stand up on your shaking legs and handed you your clothes.
“Fuck, you completely destroyed my clothes.” You said as you were standing in front of the mirror. “How will I go home?”
“You can stay in my room.” Bucky came closer to you and helped you make your blouse look more presentable, even without buttons.
“Really?”
“Of course, doll. Just hold your shirt in case we bump into someone in the corridor, but I think everyone is already in their rooms.” Bucky finished dressing up, and you saw your underwear sticking out of his pocket.
“Don’t you want to give me my panties?”
“Na-ah, you’ll have to walk with me dripping out of you.” He gave you a cocky smile and turned all the lights off before wrapping his arm around you and leading you into the hall.
It was completely empty, but the second that you stepped out of the elevator, you saw Bucky’s best friends looking at you. All of you were looking at each other for a few seconds before Sam started hysterically laughing.
“You owe me fifty bucks, idiot!” He said to Steve, who was as red as a tomato. “Good job, Buckaroo, but I really thought that we were gonna ask her on a date first.”
“Fuck off, Willson.” Bucky growled, protectively stepping forward to protect you from their looks.
“Okay, okay, relax, no one’s touching your girl.” He said with a cocky smile on his face. “Let’s go, Steve. You’re too innocent to look at things like this.” Sam took his friend and led him in another direction.
“Asshole.” Bucky growled.
“Everything is okay, Buck, let’s go.” You stepped closer to his room, but he was still standing in his place. “I have to take a shower. Will you come with me, or will you stand here the whole night?” You smirked.
It was everything he needed to finally get closer to you, scoop you into his arms, and carry you into his room to the sound of laughter, which soon turned into moans.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky fic#bucky x female reader#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#marvel fanfiction#sebastian stan#bucky barnes smut#bucky smut#bucky x reader#marvel smut
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Sunday Morning
Relationship: Dom!Loki x Sub!Reader
Word Count: 2700
Summary: You and Loki finally have some time to yourselves
Warnings: 18+! Smut! Domestic quickie, lots of praise kink, biting, bruising, possessive Loki, affectionate yet intense fucking
A sliver of warm sun peers between the curtains as you stir awake. You blink your eyes, coming out of your sleep, and take in the comfort of Loki’s expensive bed sheets, letting out a sigh.
Your eyes fall on your lover sleeping peacefully next to you. Normally he was awake before you, but last night was especially tiring for him. You smile as you think about how ravenous he was for you last night, and what an insatiable lover he is. You feel warmth of affection in your chest, and pride that he chooses to be with you.
The two of you don’t get many moments together alone. A lot of his time he is off world doing God knows what, or you were on missions all over the world with the Avengers. You never knew how long you’d have together before one of you was called away for duty. But miraculously, you were both in New York on a weekend, not having to save anyone. The two of you had a moment of peace to just be together. So naturally, you fucked like rabbits all night long.
You roll out of bed, the soreness in between your legs becoming more apparent as you make your way to the luxurious bathroom. A low grumble rolls through your stomach, and you realize you’re very hungry. You step into the large shower, turning on the water with a contented sigh.
You think about how nice it is to be at Loki’s apartment as the hot water with perfect pressure pours down your back. Just to exist in his rich world compared to your small apartment at Stark Tower is like a vacation. It feels almost domestic. You don’t know how long you have before you are called back to duty, but you know you want to enjoy every moment you have with Loki.
The smells of the exotic Asgardian soaps fill the air as you shower. You love using Loki's shampoo, then you smell like him all day- warm spices, hints of pine, and that one scent that you can never quite identify.
Another, angrier stomach growl reminds you your body needs food ASAP.
You remember the great bakery a block away, and get excited as you increase your speed lathering your body. They have these incredible red pepper bagels that are a favorite in the neighborhood, and you resign yourself to leave immediately after your shower, and share this breakfast experience with Loki when he wakes up.
As you dry yourself, you notice your reflection in the mirror. Small bruises are beginning to form on your hips and arms from where Loki was holding you down last night. You feel a wave of warmth to your core, remembering the night before, and a proud smile spreads across your lips. He did not hold back last night, and you both loved it.
You make your way out of his bathroom quietly, so as not to wake him. Your eyes peer over to see him still serenely passed out. What was he doing last week while he was gone? You’ll have to ask him when you get back.
You quickly dress and scurry out of the room, in search of your purse. His apartment is ridiculously large- he has the entire top floor of the beautiful pre-war building. Large floor to ceiling windows give you a gorgeous view from out of the living space. The building is old, and Loki has changed his surroundings to his liking. It feels like a mix between a palace in Asgard (you assume), and an old mansion in New York.
You chuckle to yourself as you enter the kitchen, remembering you dropped your purse there when Loki picked you up and carried you to his bedroom bridal style. The kitchen was the one room that remained the most untouched. Maybe because Loki wasn’t a cook, and he was used to others making his food. And he could just magically create his meals, which must be nice.
As your hands grab your purse carelessly thrown onto the counter, a voice calls from behind you, making you yelp in surprise.
“And where do you think you’re going?,” Loki asks while his arms cage you against the counter from behind. He nuzzles his nose in your hair, letting out a low hum.
“Well, I was going to sneak out and get us breakfast. There’s this little bakery and they have the most amazing…”, Loki pushes his body flat against yours, and you feel his hardness against your ass through his silk pajama bottoms.
Loki begins to place gentle kisses on your neck, making you moan quietly as a shiver runs down your spine. You can never resist him, and he knows it.
“Nooo Loki, I’ve gotta leave early or the good bagels will sell out..” you cooed as your hips thrust backwards against his hard length. His hands are now wandering up your sides, and gently cupping your breasts. A wave of arousal washes over your body, and your knees are beginning to feel weak.
"Well I’ve got to sink my cock into that beautiful cunt. And then you can procure all the baked goods you desire", he huskily murmurs in your ear. You let out a breathy whine as you feel yourself getting wetter with need, despite the tenderness in your core.
“I’m still a bit sore from last night….”. You would definitely let him have his way, but your body is not cooperating.
“Oh? Was my cock too much for your tiny mortal body? Let me help with that,” He slowly reaches his large hand to your cunt, and you feel a warmth spread over it. The discomfort is gone, and all that’s left is your aching need for him again. Are you even wetter than before? Maybe it was just the pain preventing you from realizing how turned on you already are. You feel the slick soaking your panties and you feel your pulse quicken through your body.
“That’s convenient,” you giggle, tossing your purse to the side of the smooth quartz countertop.
“I want to make sure my lover is comfortable….most of the time,” he nips at your neck, making you gasp. His hands are beginning to gently pull your shorts off, and you try in vain to resist him again. But you know you don’t have the strength to not bend to his will at a moment’s notice.
“Seriously, Loki, I have to go, the bakery opened already and the line is probably around the corner,” you attempt to push yourself away from the counter, but Loki grabs your hips and spins you to look at him.
Your body is flush with his, and you try to give Loki a serious look while ignoring his naked chest and throbbing cock pressed up against your stomach. You know you’re not fooling him, with the way your body moves against his, your hips betraying you by gently bucking into his thigh.
He looks beautiful in the morning light, his hair gently tossed from the wild night the two of you had. His eyes look so bright blue, and you find yourself mesmerized because there’s something more this morning. Adoration, affection. It’s not just the pent up lust from two lovers last night. You feel your cheeks burn under his intense stare and you try to look away. He gently reaches his hand towards your chin, holding it in place so his piercing gaze meets yours.
“I will let you go, but first I need to come inside of that delectable cunt”, Loki purrs with a sinful grin, showing his perfect teeth.
His head moves downward, and he takes a sharp inhale of your chest while digging his hands into your hips. You feel the hard countertop press into your backside as he presses against you harder, pinning you with his strength.
“Right here will suffice,” a wave of cool rushes around your hips and legs, revealing yourself to be totally naked from the waist down.
Before you can protest, he lifts you onto the countertop. It’s over, and you know it- you give in and wrap your arms around his neck and bury your fingers into his soft black hair while he skims his nose on the soft curve of your neck.
“You’re insatiable,” you let out a deep groan as Loki runs his fingers through your hair, pulling your head back gently so he can continue to nibble and suck your neck.
“Only for you Darling”, Loki purrs as he nips at your ear. He takes a sharp inhale of your hair, groaning as he pulls his swollen cock out of its confinement and lines himself up at your entrance.
“I love when you smell like me,” a guttural moan escapes his lips as his cock pushes into you slowly, easily. He pushes into the hilt, as deep as he can bury himself inside of you, and you both let out a loud gasp. Loki’s head falls backwards, exposing his strong neck, showing the veins under his porcelain skin. He looks so beautiful when he’s fucking you.
Your hips shift, and your legs wrap around his strong hips, sinking his cock in deep, the angle making you feel completely full. You whine at how good it makes you feel, you never want this to end. He fits you perfectly, like the two of you were made for each other.
"I fucked you for hours last night and yet I still need you. Your body calls to me like a siren song. I’m so proud of you, you took me so well,” he commends you with a strained voice as he tries to maintain a slow pace.
Loki thrusts slowly and deliberately as he looks back down at you with eyes filled with possessive desire, his hair falling around his face. He leans down and kisses you deeply, his tongue gently, slowly, exploring your mouth. You return his kiss with intensity, tasting as much of him as you can.
Your hands claw at his back, feeling the strong muscles move as he holds your legs up and pistons inside of you. You can feel the sweat building between the two of you as your chests touch, the slick building from the heat of your bodies.
“Oh Darling, I could stay in this beautiful cunt forever,” Loki groans as he tightly grips your hips while his hips snap into you, increasingly harder. He’s trying to savor the moment, but you know he's desperate to cum inside you.
His compliments intensify your desire for him, to please him, and you can’t get enough of it as you whine under his powerful thrusts.His cock hits that perfect spot deep inside, as he always does. Pressure is building in your core, and you feel your thighs getting sore from the position. He’s been fucking you nonstop since you got here last night, and your body is weak but you just can’t stop- he’s perfectly intoxicating, like a drug you can’t get enough of. You moan loudly at a particularly hard pound of his hips, a lusty haze settling in around you in the atmosphere.
Loki leans his head to your shoulder and begins to bite more, tasting the area afterwards. You hiss as Loki bites down harder on your shoulder, nearly breaking the skin. Your pussy clenches around him and he gives a dark chuckle.
“You love that, don’t you pet? When I’m rough with you. And you’re so good for me, always pliable and ready. Keep being good for me,” Loki’s pace increases as his possessiveness stirs him on, driving you both wild with desire.
You feel yourself getting closer to climax as Loki continues to talk, telling you how much he wants you and reminding you who you belong to. He holds your body tight to his, as he begins to pound harder into you.
“Mmmm you need my marks so that every person whose eyes cast over this perfect body knows that you belong to me,” he bites harder onto your neck and you let out a squeal. He is deliberately trying to bruise you now, while he ruts into you harder and faster at a frenzied pace.
The sounds of your passion echo off of the hard surfaces around you, his kitchen filled with your whines, slapping of wet skin, and Loki's moans and grunts and lurid words sending you over the edge.
“Loki..oh God..”, you cry, feeling the heat wave all over your body. You can feel the coil tightening in your belly as his throbbing cock massages you deep inside, the angle making it overwhelming, you can’t hold back anymore.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.”, Loki enunciates each word with a rough thrust, making your toes curl.
“Look at me, I want to watch you while you come on my cock,” he growls, grabbing your chin to force you to look into his commanding eyes.
As if your body is at his command, you come, watching him watch you with his pupils blown wide. You grasp at his shoulders and close your eyes tightly as you tumble over the precipice, moaning in a guttural tone you hadn’t heard before. You whine and writhe on him, and Loki bucks erratically into you, losing his rhythm as his firm grip on your hip and back tighten and he desperately seeks his climax.
"You look so beautiful when you come undone on my cock. All mine,” he spits out in a strangled voice, his face contorted in intense pleasure. Loki plunges his aching length into you as deep as he can, his last powerful thrust sending him over the edge. He shouts as he comes deep inside you, his whole body shuddering as the electricity courses through his veins, his hips still as he empties his seed inside you.
You both pant and he gasps for air, as he begins to gently pump himself inside of you again, sliding over your overstimulated g spot. You feel yourself tighten around his cock as it massages you, the pressure building again. The sight of Loki coming, and the heightened arousal between the two of you is too much to bear.
“Oh my….Loki…,” you choke out, your nerves on fire as your cunt aches for him, for more release.
Loki flashes you a charming grin and continues to slowly roll his hips and sighing, relishing in your cunt still tightened around him.
“That’s it, my good girl. Give me one more,” he leans forward and whispers huskily in your ear. Your body heats up as you cry out, shockwaves spreading throughout your body while you come again.
You choke and gasp for air, every cell of your body on fire for Loki. Your dripping cunt aches from overstimulation, your thighs sore from the tension. Loki removes his cock from you, tucking it back into his silk pajama bottoms.
Loki caresses your nose with his while you both pant quietly, while he rubs your back gently. It feels amazing, his large hands taking such good care of you as always.
"I love you Loki," you huff quietly and look into his beautiful eyes, which are softened by angled brows and sparkling with affection in the afterglow.
"I love you, too," he kisses you sweetly on your cheek. He helps you off of the countertop, and holds onto you as you hobble and stretch your legs.
"Now, hurry up! I want to try these "bagels" you've been speaking of” he raises his eyebrows and grins at you while he waves his hand, your clothes appearing back on your body.
“I think I’m ready for a nap,” you tease him back as you glance over your outfit.
“Oh, but you were a woman on a mission, and now I’m hungry as well. You can’t deny me the pleasure of one of your favorite breakfast delights!,” he shakes his head as he looks over your body, waving his hand again over your clothing. You look down and see that your shirt is now ripped, revealing the red marks and bruises that are blossoming on the top of your skin.
"Mmmm. That's better," Loki smiles proudly to himself as he turns and walks towards his favorite chair by the window, conjuring a book in his hand.
You roll your eyes and grab your purse, feeling sore but thoroughly sated and loved as you head out the door.
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Peachyjinx Masterlist
#loki smut#loki x reader#dom!loki x sub!reader#dom!loki smut#loki fanfiction#loki#loki fanfic#loki smutfic#loki series
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Jealous
Warnings 18+: Smut. Thigh Riding (R Receiving), Fingering (R Receiving), Oral (R Receiving), Top Wanda, Bottom Reader.
You can feel them all turn to look at you as you walk down the entrance steps to the Stark party that is being held in the tower. Yet you know they aren't looking at you, they are looking at the goddess of a woman who is standing on your left; her arm linked with yours. Her thigh length black dress, that leaves nothing to the imagination, and you know for sure her perfectly sculpted body is what people's eyes are feasting on. Her back is completely open for the world to see since the dress is a halterneck with the deepest v neck you've ever seen, it practically reaches the top of her belly button.
You were in a simple grey suit that had been tailored to fit you perfectly. Of course Wanda loves the fact she could see your muscles outlined perfectly in the suit. Your eyes wander over her figure, as the rest of the party removes theirs, your eyes so focused on what you see you don't see Wanda turn her head to look at you.
"My eyes are up here my love." Wanda uses the edge of her finger to lift your chin, your eyes meeting instantly as you smile softly at her. You are both a similar height, you being a couple inches taller so when Wanda lifts your chin you know you most definitely got caught staring.
"I know darling, I am simply admiring what is mine. You look so very sexy and ravishing and I believe everyone else in the room can see that too." You embrace the fact she caught you staring, and it makes a shy blush grow on her face and up to her ears; you love the way you still have that effect on her even after the 2 years you've been together.
Wanda turns her head to look around the room as you bring your right cheek to rest on her right one as you turn your body facing away from everybody else in the room. As you see her eyes nervously flicking to all the different people and start fiddling with her rings.
"We don't have to stay long, just 30 minutes and if you say the word we can leave." You move to stand in front of Wanda, your hands rubbing up and down her arms and you see her relax.
"Do you think it is too much?" She gestures to the dress, looking down as her hands run down the skirt. Copying Wanda's actions you lift her chin with your finger and thumb.
"If it is making you uncomfortable darling then don't be afraid to change, but it's not too much in my eyes. Well maybe it is too much cloth to be on you and the way you are wearing it. It would look so much better on the floor, while I have your hands tied to the bed." You smile when you see Wanda flush red her hand coming into contact with your chest as you chuckle.
"Don't start. We are here for our friend. It's Nat and Maria's engagement party so no funny business." You raise a brow and Wanda hits your chest giving you a pointed look. "We are celebrating with them, clothes on, on the dance floor with drinks in our hands."
"Of course M'lady." You turn back around to face the room full of people holding your arm out so Wanda can hook hers around yours.
"I love you. And you look very sexy as well my love. Handsome even, the suit just makes you look very dapper."
"Shall we." You gesture to the room who are finally back to concentrating on the party.
"We shall."
♤♡◇♧
"Who's that grinding up on your wife?" Wanda, turns to see who Yelena is pointing to.
“Firstly, she hasn’t put a ring on it yet. Secondly, I think her name is Daisy. She knows Phil and Phil is a good friend of Maria’s. I've only seen her once or twice before.” Wanda’s eyes trained on the two of you as Daisy pushes her back against your front, you keeping your hands to yourself showing no interest but also not pushing her away and wanting to seem rude.
“Well she is all up on your girl there Wanda. Aren’t you going to do something about it.” Wanda takes a quick glance at Yelena before looking back to see Daisy has now turned around and is whispering in your ear.
“What am I meant to do, go over there and act like the crazy girlfriend that drags her away. No. I am not doing that. Anyway, I can see from here Y/n isn’t interested but Daisy just isn’t reading the signals.” Wanda tries to shrug it off but can’t help the pang of jealousy that courses through her when she sees you laughing at something Daisy says.
“You know, I always thought you would be the controlling one in the relationship but now I see it for what it is.” Wanda’s head turns on a swivel to see Yelena smirking at her.
“Oh yeah, what’s that then.” Wanda raises a brow in question.
“I reckon you're just a big ole pillow princess and Y/n treats you like royalty.” Wanda chokes on her drink a little, causing Yelena to laugh. “I take that as a yes then.”
“No, not at all.” Yelena gives her a look and Wanda sighs. “Okay so it’s mostly true but I have my moments.”
“Oh yeah?” Yelena knew what she was doing, spurring Wanda on, she was in on your plan. You wanted to see how far you could push Wanda and how she would react. When you told Yelena she only wanted to add to the plan knowing that if she said the right things Wanda would react.
Wanda stays silent for a minute, turning back to look at you, her eyes trained on your hand that is now holding Daisy’s as you spin her under her arm. Wanda misses the smirk Yelena sends your way when you look over to the two of them, and you definitely don’t miss the way Wanda clenches her jaw. Wanda watches as you lean down to whisper into Daisy’s ear, the latter’s eyes move to look directly at Wanda as she laughs at whatever you have told her. Daisy’s hands snake around your neck, you doing nothing to stop it, pulling your body closer as your hands hover over her waist; not quite touching it. Yelena’s eyes flick between you and Wanda, as she watches Wanda re-position herself to get a complete view of your antics.
You take a risk by placing your hands on Daisy’s waist, spinning her around so her back is against your front and her hands hold onto the back of your neck. You bend down, placing your cheek against Daisy’s as her head tilts back to rest on your shoulder. Wanda sees you throw your head back as you laugh, but her eyes are trained on the way yours and Daisy’s hips move together with the music. Wanda turns around placing her drink on the table, standing up as she straightens out her dress. Yelena’s hand on hers stops her from storming over, her brows scrunching when she sees Yelena’s smirk.
“So is this one of those moments?” Wanda takes a few seconds to register what Yelena was asking, but as soon as she remembers the conversation they were just having she does a quick nod.
“It is.” Yelena simply smirks more as she lets go of her hand and watches as Wanda heads towards the dance floor.
“Good luck Y/n.” Yelena whispers to herself as she downs the rest of Wanda’s drink, not wanting the alcohol to go to waste.
Wanda catches Daisy's eye as the latter spins around to face you, smiling at you with a small curtsey as she leaves you alone. Before you even get a chance to turn around to meet the eyes of your girlfriend, her front is pressed to your back and her hands land on your hips. She pulls your hips left to right in time with hers, as she gets a rhythm going with the music, one of her hands moving to untuck your shirt. Her hand snakes under your shirt moving up to your abs where she starts gently scratching at them, her other hand keeping your hips against hers. Wanda moves her head so her lips are pressed against your right ear, your head tilting to the side slightly, as she drags her hand from your waist to gently hold your throat putting no pressure on it but you can feel her skin on yours.
"You're being naughty darling." She squeezes your neck slightly, your head tilting back to rest on her shoulder as a gasp passes your lips; a shiver going down your spine. You move a hand to hold the back of Wanda’s neck, the other holding onto the back of her thigh.
“I don’t know what you're talking about.” You act coy and in response Wanda pulls your ear between her teeth as her nails scratch at your abs.
“You’re mine and only mine.”
Before you can even reply Wanda uses her power to teleport the two of you to your room where she pushes your back against the door, her lips ghosting the skin of your neck, her hot breath causing goosebumps to form and you feel her smirk at the sight. You gasp as Wanda suddenly sinks her teeth into your pulse point, sucking on the spot before soothing it with her tongue the whine that leaves your lips surprises the both of you.
“Oh, do you like that darling? Do you like it when I mark you, to show everyone you belong to me?” She flicks her wrist and both of your clothes are suddenly on the floor behind her, Wanda chuckling into your neck as she feels your hands grip tightly onto her hips.
Your right hand moves up to grip her hair as you pull on it to tilt her head back, a small moan leaving her lips at the roughness. You bring your lips down to her ear, her hands moving to hold onto your waist as she pushes her thigh between yours and you start rolling your hips against it. You moan Wanda’s name directly into her ear, earning a moan of yours in return as you lean your head back against the door, your hips picking up speed as the pressure on your core from her thigh is working wonders in building up your arousal.
“What do you want from me detka? Tell me what you want.” Wanda uses her hands on your waist to stop you from moving against her thigh, a whimper leaving your lips at the loss as you look into her lust filled eyes wanting to wipe that playful smirk off her face.
“I want you to claim me.”
“Fuck yourself on my thigh and I will decide if you deserve to cum with the strap.” Wanda keeps her hands on your hips, pressing her body against you more to trap you between her and the door as you start to roll your hips as she pushes her thigh back up to your core.
“Fuck.” Your hands move up her body to snake around Wanda’s neck pulling her face into your neck where she starts to nip and bite at the skin leaving a small trail of blue and purple bruises as you grind your core against her thigh.
“You’re doing so well for me baby.” Wanda breathes into your ear as a pool of wetness starts building up, as your core continues to roll against her thigh.
“I need…” Your words are interrupted by a moan as Wanda’s hands pull your hips down, tensing her thigh as she takes control of your movements for a few seconds moving your hips roughly as you moan her name again.
“What do you need, detka?” Wanda smirks into your neck as you move one of your hands down her body, grabbing ahold of hers and bringing it down to your core. She moves her thigh away from your core, but before you can complain she immediately replaces it with her hand but she doesn’t move; the teasing smirk on her face tells you all you need to know.
“I need you to fuck me.” You gasp as Wanda uses two fingers to press against your clit, starting to roll the sensitive bundle of nerves softly. “More….please….Wanda I need more.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. What did I say?” She moves her lips back up to your ear as her fingers run through your folds, her thumb now on your clit as she starts rolling her thumb against it. “Answer me detka what did I say?”
“Get myself off.” You bite your lips harshly, swallowing a moan, as her two fingers push into your entrance slowly and without warning. Wanda raises her eyebrow, waiting for you to finish your answer to her question. “Get myself off…on…your thigh.”
“And yet here I am with my fingers inside you.” She starts by pulling her fingers most of the way out and then harshly thrusting them back inside a loud moan leaving your lips. “I’m the one doing all of the work, now I think I'm going to have to punish you just a little for not listening. Maybe a little denial…Is that okay?”
You smile softly at the question knowing Wanda will never do anything without your consent, you move your hands up to cup her face as she continues to slowly pump her fingers in and out of you. You bring her lips to yours, brushing them against each other before gasping against them as she curls her fingers suddenly pressing against the spot she knows gets you going easily.
“It’s more than okay.” You press your lips against hers in a heated kiss, Wanda swallowing your moans as she continues to curl her fingers inside you. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”
She pulls her fingers completely out of you, a loud whine being pulled from you making Wanda chuckle once again as she drags her tongue from your ear all the way back down to your pulse point, the spot already sensitive from her nibbling at it earlier but when she once against nibs and sucks at it you can’t help the guttural moan that passes your lips. Your eyes roll to the back of your head a loud moan, almost a scream, leaving you mouth agape as Wanda slams three fingers into your core, her thrusts quick and rough; your back arching away from the door at the intrusion.
Your hands move up to hold onto her shoulders to support yourself as your body rocks against the door at her harsh thrusts, you gasps and moans getting louder as you get closer and closer to toppling over the edge. Just as your walls start to clench around Wanda’s fingers she pulls them out and removes her thumb from your clit, a desperate whine passes your lips as your head tilts forward and you rest your forehead against Wanda’s.
“Please baby. I was so close. I want to cum. Please make me cum.” You never really begged but you know how much it will get Wanda riled up and get you what you want, and you smirk to yourself when you hear the moan leave her lips telling you your plan has worked.
Wanda doesn’t say anything but instead trails her lips trail down your neck all the way to your left breast, nipping and sucking at every inch of skin as she goes, not caring about how many marks she leaves on you. It’s not like you are against it either, your hand moving back into Wanda’s hair as her lips wrap around your left nipple, her teeth grazing gently over the already hardened bud. Using your grip in her hair, you pull her against you more and she sucks gently one the nipple as her left hand moves up to massage your neglected breast, her thumb and finger rolling over your other nipple. A moan leaves your mouth at the stimulation as Wanda pulls away with your nipple in her mouth releasing it with a pop before trailing kisses to the valley of your breasts sucking on the side of the right one leaving yet another mark.
“Mine.” She moans against your skin as she takes your right nipple into her mouth, her left hand moving to your hip as her right one takes the other breast and starts to massage it making sure they both get attention.
Once she is satisfied with the attention she has given to your breasts she moves down to sit on her knees, her chin resting on your right hip as she looks up at you from below; your hand still in her hair as the other one rests against the door. Her hands trail up and down the back of your thighs, moving up to your butt and giving it a small squeeze causing your back to arch away from the door for only a second. Her right hand snakes up and around to your stomach pushing you back against the door as her left hand lifts your right thigh over her shoulder then her arm wraps around the top of it to keep it in place.
Her lips trail up the inside of your thigh before pressing a feather light kiss to your lips, your head hitting the door as the pit in your stomach only grows, the pleasure turning towards the point of pain. It’s as if Wanda sense the shift in your breathing the way you let out a small whimper causes her to smirk against your thigh, but she knows your body just as well as you do maybe even more because the moment her tongue licks through your folds a guttural moan leaves your lips and you pull her closer to you using the grip you have on her hair.
She moans into your core at the rough hair pull, her fingers digging into your thigh as her other hand scratches down your toned stomach. She rolls your clit with her tongue, tilting her head back slightly so she can look up at you seeing your chest move rapidly with your heavy breaths, small moans leaving your lips mixed with her name once in a while. She lets her teeth graze against your sensitive clit, your grip in her hair tightening causing her to groan in pain but you know that it only turns her on more so you do it again this time tilting your head to look down at her.
In retaliation she pulls her mouth away from your core breathing cool air onto your sensitive clit and you gasp as your hips roll, your core touching nothing but thin air. Wanda chuckles to herself before bringing her mouth back up to your core, her tongue dancing around your entrance before deciding that she has teased you enough pushing the strong muscle into your entrance. Her hand that is on your thigh moves up towards your core, her thumb stroking the inside of your leg as she does so.
Your moans and sighs of pleasure echo around the room as she continues to push her tongue inside you, your back defiantly arching away from the door, her hand on your abdomen doing nothing to stop the movement. When she feels your walls start to flutter and your moans turn silent, your mouth falling open in a pleasurable grimace she presses her thumb against your clit. You crash head first into a blistering orgasm, your body completely coming away from the door as your free hand holds onto the door frame as you see stars and you lose all feeling for a few seconds.
With your eyes closed and no control over your rapidly beating heart and sore lungs you feel the lightest of touches slowly creeping up your body, then to your neck, along your jaw and finally to your lips. It takes you a few seconds to return the kiss, your mind still recovering from the orgasm Wanda had just given you, removing your hand from her hair you use it to brush the baby hairs off your own forehead. Your eyes flutter open as Wanda’s lips travel around your face, leaving small pecks along your cheeks, eyes, nose and forehead as you slowly recover. When you finally manage to open your eyes you smile at the sight of Wanda holding you steadily against the door with a soft smile on her face.
“Are you okay?” All you can do is nod, but it is confirmation enough for her. “Let's get you cleaned up and in bed, you must be worn out.”
You don’t say anything but allow Wanda to pull you into the ensuite, sitting you down on the toilet seat as she grabs some towels and places them on the sink. She makes her way back over to you, bending down in front of you with her hands on your knees. You smiley goofily, the last of the fuzziness in your brain still slowly fading.
“Do you want a bath or shower?” You hold up two fingers, still not trusting your voice and Wanda giggles as she stands up hoisting you up with her and making sure that your legs stop wobbling before pulling you towards the shower.
Using her magic she opens the shower door and turns it on so both of her hands can stay on your waist keeping you up. Once the steam starts filling the shower she gently pulls you under the warm stream of water. You let out a relaxed sigh as your head tilts backwards letting the water run down the front of your neck and body. Wanda’s hands leave your body for a second, her magic replacing them as she grabs the bottle of moisturising body wash. Her magic pushes you out of the water slightly, but the steam is doing enough to keep you warm. Your eyes close at the feeling of wanda’s hands back on your skin as she gently massages at your thighs, helping to release some of the tension that has built up in them. Your head flops forward onto her shoulder as she stands in front of you, her hands now moving up the side of your body and around to your back.
“Nearly done baby, and then we can head to bed.”
“Mkay, I love you.” Wanda smiles softly, not that you could see it as you bury your head into the crook of her neck as she drags you both back under the water, the soap running off your body as her hands weave through your hair. She chooses to leave the hair washing, knowing you washed it before the party, but continues the act of weaving her hands through your hair knowing how it relaxes you and practically turns you docile.
Once she has deemed you cleaned and cared for she pulls you out of the shower, once again using her magic to turn the shower off and wrap your towels around you. As she pulls you into the bedroom the magic dances around your bodies and towels drying you off, and braiding your hair so it doesn’t annoy you in your sleep. Your body practically falls into bed when you feel the edge of it touch your knees, Wanda giggling as she pulls the covers from under your body and turning you on your back so she can gently lay on top of you.
“Is this okay?” She asks quietly knowing you might still be sore and sensitive that her being on top of you may be uncomfortable.
“Perfectly so.” Her head finds home in the crook of your neck as your arms wrap around her torso pulling her closer, her legs either side of your waist as you both get comfortable.
“Thank you for playing along.” You move a hand up and down her bare back, gently scratching at her skin as she whispers between the two of you.
“Well you said you wanted to be top for once and I wanted to see what a jealous you could be like.” You tilt your head to peck her forehead as she sighs in content.
“How was a jealous me?”
“Definitely want to see more of her.” Wanda leans up slightly to look down at you, her eyes flicking left to right as she looks into yours.
“Does this mean I might get to take control more often?”
“We will just have to see how things play out won't we babygirl?” A smirk plays on your lips as Wanda’s pupils dilate at the pet name. “I think I should reward you for making me feel so good. What do you say?”
“I would say you're tired.” She tries to sound authoritative but her voice is breathy and it only makes you smirk more. “And I just did the whole aftercare thing.”
“Well I'm wide awake and who said that i have to move a muscle.”
Wanda raises a questioning eyebrow, your hand slowly snakes up her back to her neck and you pull her face down towards yours. You take her bottom lip between her teeth watching her eyes darken as they look into yours. You release her lip with a pop, your hand moving to the front of her neck where you apply a small amount of pressure.
“Why don’t you grab your favourite strap for me so I can watch you fuck yourself on it.”
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Little Dove
Quinn Hughes x Reader
masterlist link
a:n This is part 1 and officially my first ever Quinn Hughes fic, this series will be pretty long since I want to get into the details and emotions. There will be no skimping on details. Not round here partner.
also he looks so good in this gif good god!
summary: Sometimes Y/N's effort just isn't enough; every attempt seems to be futile and disregarded. The people she calls mom and dad do nothing but disappoint her, brushing her off as an ungrateful child. It seems the only person who can truly see her is Quinn.
Word Count - 4140
...
The sun had barely begun to peek through the towering skyscrapers of the bustling city as Y/N stepped out of her sleek, black car. Her red bottom heels clicked against the pavement with each confident stride, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air. She adjusted her perfectly tailored skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles that may have formed during her commute.
As she approached the imposing glass doors of her parents' company headquarters, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease.
Despite the success and prestige that came with working for her family's business, Y/N knew deep down that this wasn't her true calling. Nevertheless, she put on a brave face and pushed through the doors, ready to tackle another day.
The security guard, a friendly older gentleman named Frank, greeted her with a warm smile. "Good morning, Miss Y/N," he said, tipping his hat in her direction.
Y/N returned the smile, her red lipstick a striking contrast against her porcelain skin. "Good morning, Frank. I hope you had a lovely weekend," she replied, her voice smooth and polished, befitting her corporate persona.
As she made her way through the spacious lobby, her heels clicked against the polished marble floor, announcing her presence to the few early risers already at their desks. She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, where her office was located.
Stepping out into the hallway, Y/N was greeted by the sight of her office, its glass walls doing little to provide privacy. The modern, minimalist design was a reflection of her parents' tastes rather than her own. She sighed.
With a deep breath, Y/N pushed open the glass door and entered her office, ready to start another day in a job that left her feeling unfulfilled, yearning for something more.
Y/N settled into her plush, ergonomic chair, the leather cool against her skin. She reached forward and pressed the power button on her sleek, silver computer, watching as the screen flickered to life. The familiar logo of her parents' company appeared, a constant reminder of her obligations and the path she felt pressured to follow.
The computer hummed quietly, Y/N began to sort through the stack of paperwork on her desk. She picked up a folder, her perfectly manicured nails a stark contrast against the crisp, white paper. Just as she was about to open the file, a buzzing sound emanated from her designer purse.
Curiosity piqued, Y/N reached into her bag and retrieved her phone. The screen displayed a new text message, and her heart skipped a beat as she read the name: Quinn. she opened the message.
"Hey princess," the text read, the words both endearing and frustrating.
Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair as she contemplated her response. Quinn had a way of blurring the lines between playful banter and genuine affection, leaving her constantly questioning the nature of their relationship. His messages were often short and casual, but the term of endearment he used never failed to send a flutter through her chest.
Despite his repeated claims that he wasn't looking for anything serious, Quinn seemed to take pleasure in pushing the boundaries, leaving Y/N in a state of confusion and longing.
She knew she shouldn't let herself get too attached, but there was something about him that drew her in, making it difficult to maintain the emotional distance she knew was necessary.
With another sigh, Y/N set her phone back down on the desk, trying to focus on the task at hand. She knew she needed to establish clearer boundaries with Quinn, but the thought of pushing him away completely left an ache in her heart.
Y/n shook her head, attempting to clear her mind and concentrate on the paperwork before her, even as thoughts of Quinn lingered in the back of her mind.
…
Y/N's attention was drawn away from her mother's presentation as her phone buzzed once more. She discreetly glanced at the screen under the table, her heart racing as she saw Quinn's name appear again. Her cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and guilt as she read his messages.
"I miss you," the first text read, causing a warmth to spread through her chest. Before she could fully process the implications of his words, another message followed: "Are we still good for tmrw?"
Y/N's mind raced as she contemplated her response. She had agreed to go out with Quinn for dinner tomorrow, a decision she had made in a moment of weakness, longing for the thrill of his company.
Now, sitting in the business room with her parents, the reality of her situation came crashing down upon her.
She glanced up, her eyes meeting her father's stern gaze from across the table. He sat in his imposing grey chair, his posture straight and attentive as he listened to Dedra's presentation.
Y/N knew that her parents had high expectations for her, and the thought of disappointing them weighed heavily on her conscience.
As Dedra continued to explain the new company policy, Y/N found it increasingly difficult to focus. Her mind wandered to thoughts of Quinn, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the effortless charm he exuded. She yearned to respond to his messages, to confirm their plans and lose herself in the excitement of their secret rendezvous.
Y/N's heart raced as she quickly typed out her response to Quinn, her fingers flying across the screen. She glanced up every few seconds, ensuring that her parents were still engaged in the presentation. With a final look of determination, she pressed send, a small thrill running through her body.
Almost instantly, her phone buzzed with Quinn's reply. "Wear that red dress I bought you."
Y/N's eyebrows raised in surprise, a smirk playing on her lips as she typed back, "The v neck dress?"
"Yeah, that one."
"I will ;), I have to go back to work, I'll text you later." Y/N sent the message, a giddy feeling bubbling up inside her chest. However, her momentary happiness was short-lived as she felt a sharp kick under the table. Her eyes snapped up to meet her father's disapproving gaze, his brow furrowed in irritation.
the meeting concluded around her, Y/N's coworkers filed out of the room, muttering their polite goodbyes. Soon, only Y/N and her parents remained, the tension in the air palpable. Her mother fixed her with a stern look, her voice laced with disappointment.
"Y/N, you're not taking this as seriously as you need to be. This will be you one day." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "Who were you talking to?"
Y/N's heart sank, knowing that lying to her parents would only make matters worse. She opened her mouth to respond, but her father cut her off.
"Was it that hockey guy?" He scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. "He sucks, he'll never be good enough. I should've paid him off four months ago if I knew he'd be such a distraction."
Y/N's cheeks burned with a mixture of shame and anger. She hated the way her parents spoke about Quinn, as if he were nothing more than a nuisance to be dealt with. She knew they would never approve of their relationship but hearing them talk about him so callously only strengthened her resolve.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N met her parents' gazes, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "Quinn, and he's not a distraction.” Her mother's lips pressed into a thin line, disapproval etched into every line of her face.
Y/N's parents exchanged a knowing glance, their eyes filled with a mixture of disappointment and condescension. Her mother, Dedra, was a striking woman in her mid-50s, with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and a designer suit that hugged her slender frame.
Her father, Derek, was a tall, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair and a perpetual scowl that seemed etched into his chiseled features.
Dedra leaned forward, her elbows resting on the polished mahogany table. "Y/N, darling," she began, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "you know we only want what's best for you. This... Quinn," she said his name as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth, "he's not good for you. He's a distraction, a phase. You'll see that soon enough."
Y/N felt her stomach twist, the all-too-familiar sensation of her parents' manipulation taking hold. She opened her mouth to protest, but Derek cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Enough, Y/N," he growled, his deep voice reverberating through the empty conference room. "You're not a child anymore. It's time you started acting like the adult you claim to be. This company, this life we've built for you - it's all we've ever wanted for you. And you're throwing it away for some lowlife hockey player who barely even made it to the big leagues."
Y/N's cheeks burned with anger and humiliation. She hated the way her parents made her feel, as if her thoughts and feelings were invalid, as if she were nothing more than a pawn in their grand scheme.
Dedra reached across the table, her perfectly manicured hand grasping Y/N's wrist. "Sweetheart," she said, her tone softening, "we love you. We just don't want to see you get hurt. Men like Quinn... they're not in it for the long haul. They'll use you, break your heart, and move on to the next pretty face. You deserve so much more than that."
Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let her parents see her weakness. She knew they were wrong about Quinn, but their words still cut deep, playing on her insecurities and fears.
Derek stood up, his tall frame looming over her. "This discussion is over, Y/N. You'll end things with this Quinn character, and you'll focus on your work. Your future. Do I make myself clear?"
Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. She wanted to scream, to tell her parents that they had no right to control her life, but she knew it would be futile. With a curt nod, she pushed back from the table and stood up, her legs shaking beneath her.
"I have work to do," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you'll excuse me."
Without waiting for a response, Y/N turned on her heel and strode out of the conference room, her heart hammering in her chest.
…
The clock on the wall seemed to move at an agonizingly slow pace, each tick echoing through the cramped office space. Y/N leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking beneath her weight as she stared blankly at the computer screen.
The fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glow on her features, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes and the tension in her jaw.
Around her, the office hummed with activity, the sound of ringing phones and the gentle whir of computers filling the air. Y/N felt suffocated by the monotony of it all, the endless hours spent hunched over her desk, pouring over spreadsheets and reports.
As the clock finally struck three, Y/N let out a sigh of relief, the thought of going home filling her with a sense of euphoria. She could almost feel the soft embrace of her couch, the warmth of a glass of wine in her hand as she left the stresses of the day behind.
Just as she was about to log off her computer, a sharp knock at the door startled her from her thoughts. Alexandra, the secretary, peeked her head in, her perfectly styled hair and immaculate makeup a stark contrast to Y/N's tired appearance.
"I sent some of the paperwork to your email," Alexandra said, her voice saccharine sweet. "If you could just finish those up before you leave, that'd help a lot."
Y/N felt a surge of anger course through her veins, her patience wearing thin. She fixed Alexandra with a cold stare, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's three. I get to go home now, you know, like a normal person."
Alexandra's eyes narrowed, her lips pursing in disapproval. Y/N knew that the secretary had always treated her like nothing more than a privileged nepo baby, completely disregarding the fact that Y/N had never used her family's influence to step on any toes or make people do her bidding.
Y/N stood up from her chair, grabbing her purse and jacket from the back of her seat. She could feel Alexandra's eyes boring into her back as she made her way towards the door, but she refused to give the woman the satisfaction of seeing her frustration.
"I'll take care of it in the morning," Y/N said, her hand on the doorknob. "Have a good night, Alexandra."
Without waiting for a response, Y/N stepped out of her office, the sound of her heels clicking against the tiled floor as she made her way towards the elevators.
She could feel the weight of the day lifting from her shoulders with each step, the promise of freedom and the warmth of her bath calling to her like a siren song.
As the elevator doors closed behind her, Y/N let out a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned back against the cool metal wall. She knew that the road ahead would be filled with obstacles, but for now, all she wanted was to lose herself in the comfort of Quinn's arms and forget about the expectations and pressures that threatened to suffocate her.
…
The faucet let out a high-pitched squeak as Y/N twisted the gleaming chrome knob, the sound echoing off the tiled walls of the dimly lit bathroom. The flow of water slowed to a trickle before stopping completely, leaving behind a tub filled with steaming, inviting water.
Tendrils of steam rose from the water, carrying with them the intoxicating aroma.
With a fluid motion, Y/N untied the sash of her plush, white bathrobe, the soft fabric slipping off her shoulders and pooling at her feet. The cool air kissed her bare skin, sending a slight shiver down her spine as she stepped closer to the tub.
Tentatively, she dipped a toe into the water, testing the temperature. The heat was intense, but not unbearable, and Y/N slowly lowered herself into the bath, letting out a contented sigh as the warm water enveloped her body.
The water lapped at her shoulders, the heat penetrating her tired muscles and easing away the knots and tension that had accumulated throughout the day.
Y/N sank deeper into the rose petal-filled bathwater, the sweet, floral aroma wafting through the steamy air. The soft, delicate petals brushed against her skin, their velvety touch a gentle caress. She inhaled deeply, the scent of roses mingling with the subtle vanilla notes of her favorite candle, creating a soothing, intimate atmosphere.
As she leaned back, her hair cascaded over the edge of the tub, the ends dipping into the water and creating gentle ripples on the surface. Her eyes fluttered closed, lashes casting shadows on her flushed cheeks, a result of the bath's intense heat.
The tranquil moment was interrupted by the buzzing of her phone, its vibration echoing through the bathroom. Y/N's eyes snapped open, a curious expression on her face as she reached for the device.
Quinn's name flashed across the screen, his photo – a candid shot of him grinning widely, his dark hair tousled by the wind – accompanying the incoming call.
A smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's lips as she lifted herself from the bath, water droplets cascading down her smooth, sun-kissed skin. She grabbed the phone, tapping the screen to answer the call and putting it on speaker.
"Hi, hottie," Y/N greeted, her voice playful and warm.
Quinn's nerdy, endearing voice filled the bathroom, a chuckle evident in his tone. "Hey there, beautiful. How's my favorite girl doing tonight?"
Y/N reached for her glass of wine, the deep, rich red liquid swirling in the crystal glass. She took a sip, savoring the bold, fruity flavors on her tongue before responding. "Oh, you know, just unwinding after a long day at the office. How about you, handsome?"
"Counting down the minutes until I get to see you tomorrow," Quinn replied, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I can't stop thinking about how stunning you'll look in that red dress."
Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. She set the wine glass down, running her fingers through her damp hair, pushing it away from her face. "Mmm, you sure know how to make a girl feel special," she purred, her tone flirtatious.
"That's because you are special, Y/N," Quinn said, his voice softening. "I can't wait to have you all to myself tomorrow. No work, no distractions, just you and me."
Y/N's heart fluttered at his words, a giddy feeling spreading through her chest. She bit her lower lip, a coy smile playing on her features. "I like the sound of that," she murmured, her voice low and sultry. "You better be prepared to sweep me off my feet, mister."
Quinn's laughter filled the bathroom, warm and infectious. "Oh, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, don't you worry."
As they continued their playful banter, Y/N sank back into the bath, the warm water enveloping her once more. She closed her eyes, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she listened to Quinn's voice, the sound soothing her soul and filling her with anticipation for the day to come.
…
As the morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the bedroom, Y/N's phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand. The vibrations seemed to echo through the tranquil space, a jarring contrast to the peaceful atmosphere.
Beyond the window, the vibrant green of the trees and grass was visible, a testament to the beauty of the early morning.
The bedroom was a serene oasis, with its pristine white decor creating a sense of calm and comfort. The plush, white comforter enveloped Y/N, its softness lulling her into a state of drowsy contentment.
Y/N stirred, mumbling incoherently as she slowly turned over, her eyelids fluttering open. She squinted, her eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight that flooded the room. As she reached for her phone, the alarm blared to life, the glowing digits on the nightstand displaying a crisp 7:00 AM.
With a groan, Y/N sat up, her hand instinctively reaching for her phone. As she unlocked the device, she was greeted by a string of texts from her mother, Dedra. The messages, even in their digital form, seemed to drip with condescension.
"Y/N, don't forget about the family brunch today. Your father and I expect you to be there, and please, try to look presentable. We have important guests attending, and we can't have you embarrassing us like last time. And do try to be on time, darling. Punctuality is a virtue, after all."
Rolling her eyes, Y/N tossed her phone aside and begrudgingly dragged herself out of bed. She went about her morning routine, selecting a chic and appropriate outfit for the brunch and work before making her way to the kitchen.
As she entered the heart of her home, Y/N couldn't help but smile. The space was everything she had ever dreamed of – a perfect blend of modern elegance and cozy charm. She moved towards the kitchen island, her bare feet padding softly against the cool, hardwood floors.
While her coffee brewed, filling the air with its rich, invigorating aroma, Y/N leaned back against the island, her eyes drifting to the television mounted on the wall. The familiar characters of The 100, flashed across the screen.
She sipped her coffee, savoring the warmth and comfort it provided, as she lost herself in the post-apocalyptic world unfolding before her.
Y/N glanced at her watch, the sleek hands pointing to 8:30, a frustrated huff escaped her lips. She quickly shut off the television and grabbed her essentials, making her way out of the apartment and towards her car.
The drive to the office was usually a time for Y/N to unwind and mentally prepare for the day ahead, with her favorite podcast playing through the speakers.
However, today's episode left her feeling unsettled. The young creator, barely 18 years old, was excitedly announcing her pregnancy. The way she spoke about it, as if it were some sort of miraculous blessing, made Y/N's stomach churn. With a quick tap, she muted the podcast, silence filling the car as she navigated the familiar streets.
As she pulled into the parking lot of the imposing office building, Y/N's eyes immediately landed on Alexandra, who was just a few spots down from her. A wave of dread washed over her, and she quickly locked her car, determined to beat her colleague to the elevator.
Y/N's heels clicked against the pavement as she hurried towards the entrance, her breath coming in short, anxious bursts. She could hear Alexandra's footsteps echoing behind her.
Just as Y/N stepped into the elevator, her manicured finger jabbing the button for the 4th floor, she caught a glimpse of Alexandra rushing towards her. With a sly grin, Y/N pressed the close button, feigning interest in her perfectly polished nails as the doors began to slide shut.
Alexandra stumbled, her hand reaching out in a desperate attempt to stop the elevator, but it was too late. As the doors closed, Y/N looked up, meeting her colleague's gaze with a sad, insincere smile. The look of frustration and annoyance on Alexandra's face was a small victory for Y/N, a momentary triumph in the never-ending battle of office politics.
The elevator began its ascent, Y/N leaned back against the cool metal wall, her eyes closing for a brief moment. She inhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing heart and push away the lingering unease from the podcast. The day had barely begun, and already she felt drained.
It dinged, signaling her arrival on the 4th floor, Y/N straightened her shoulders and put on a brave face. She stepped out into the hallway.
…
The constant cacophony of rings and beeps filled Y/N's ears for the next three hours, the incessant noise drilling into her skull. The cramped office space felt more like a chicken coop than a professional workspace, and Y/N could feel her sanity slowly slipping away with each passing minute.
Just as she thought she couldn't take it anymore, Dedra peeked her head into the office, her critical gaze sweeping over the room before she entered. With a sense of entitlement, she perched herself on the edge of Y/N's desk, her perfectly manicured fingers toying with a strand of Y/N's hair.
"You know, you look stressed, Y/N," Dedra remarked, her tone laced with false concern. Her eyes then traveled down to Y/N's attire, and her face contorted into a look of disgust. "Is that what you're wearing to brunch?" she asked, her voice dripping with disapproval. "I guess it will do."
Before Y/N could respond, Dedra abruptly stood up and headed towards the door, gesturing for her daughter to follow. Y/N huffed in frustration, the weight of her mother's judgment pressing down on her. She quickly logged off her computer and gathered her belongings, trailing behind Dedra as they made their way through the office.
As they walked, Y/N could feel the eyes of her coworkers following them, their gazes a mix of curiosity and envy. She held her head high, refusing to let their attention faze her. Dedra, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the attention, her stride confident and purposeful as she led the way.
When they reached the front of the building, a sleek black limo slowly approached, its polished exterior gleaming in the sunlight. Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at the ostentatious display.
"Why do we need a limo for brunch?" she asked, exasperation evident in her voice. "Could you guys be any more extra?"
Dedra shot her a sharp look, her lips pursed in disapproval. "Appearances matter, Y/N," she said, her tone clipped. "We have a reputation to uphold, and arriving in style is part of that."
Y/N bit back a retort, knowing that arguing with her mother was a futile endeavor. As the limo pulled up to the curb, the driver promptly exited the vehicle, opening the door for them with a practiced bow.
Dedra climbed in first, her movements graceful and refined. Y/N followed suit, sinking into the plush leather seats with a sigh.
The vehicle pulled away from the curb, and Y/N watched as the office building grew smaller in the distance. She knew that the brunch would be just another performance, a carefully orchestrated display of wealth and status that she was expected to participate in.
…
message me to be added to the tag list. hope you enjoyed it. please lmk how you liked it.
(also I just made this idea today and I can't believe I already wrote chapter 1)
#fluff#angst#masterlist#x reader#quinn hughes#hughes brothers#qh43#vancouver canucks#canucks hockey#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x oc#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes masterlist#quinn hughes series#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes x sister!reader#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes angst#nhl blurb
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‘ PRETTY IN PINK ‘
harvard professor! toji x black! elle woods! reader
getting into harvard law was a piece of cake, but somehow getting into your professors pants was harder!
cw: black! reader, age gap by like 15 years, set in 2001
ENJOY !
you pull your pink satin eye mask over your bonnet and stretch. today was the day, the day you’d finally get professor fushiguro to give in. you’ve had your eye on him since you were a freshman, his brood and sarcastic demeanor making him even more attractive. you hop out of your bed and start to get ready. after half an hour of doing what you need to do, you grab your bella louis vuitton tote and slide into your heels, walking out the door. arriving to your first class you’re already out of breath, not from the route there, of course not, but the fact your english teacher, is sitting on toji’s desk. laughing. you purse your lips together and stare, holding your designer purse in front of you. it didn’t take long for toji to notice the girl wearing all pink in his doorway.
“need something?” toji said in his oh so deep and gravely voice. “oh no! i was just about to ask a question but i see you’re already talking to someone. i’ll be on my way.” and with that you speed walk down the hall, the familiar clacking of your heels against the schools polished marble floor getting further and further. tears well in your eyes, but why? it’s not like you and toji are dating, and if you two were, you’d be sure you still wouldn’t let these fat tears roll down your face. you race to the bathroom and push your bottom eyelids up on the way, forcing them to close. once you arrive you take the biggest stall there is and sit on the toilet, hiding your face in your hands. after about six minutes of sulking by yourself, you hear another pair of heels clacking against the floor.
“y/n?” spoke your english teacher. “yes?” you respond, trying to make it seem as if you weren’t just crying. “toji doesn’t like crybabies. i know you’ve been trying to get in his pants and all, but don’t bring the whole class down because you can’t handle your urges.” and with that, she leaves, leaving you a dumbstruck mess. the day just started. it’s only 7:30 in the morning. you take a moment to regather yourself, and walk out. this has been terrible already. you walk into your first class and sigh, ten minutes late. you’ve never been late a day in your life! you plop down in an open seat and grab your notebook, jotting down notes when it’s needed. everyone has had their eyes on you since you’d came here, your bold style and personality attracting attention wherever you went. now was not a good day to have eyes all on you. your usual behavior being a stark contrast to your now sad and mopey one.
“y/n stay after class please.” you teacher slips in during a lecture, you were lucky you caught it unless you’d be in for a treat. class was over and you stood by your teachers desk. “yes?” you ask, fiddling with the straps of your purse. “you’re never late. is something wrong?” she asks. your calculus teacher was a nice old white lady who wore a huge pair of wired glasses. “nope. just tired from exams and stuff.” you chuckle, fidgeting with your hair. “okay okay. well, make sure you get your eight hours to stay beautiful.” she grins. you leave with a “thank you.” and go to your next class.
lunch rolled around and you decided to make your way into toji’s classroom, standing in the doorway as seductively as you could. “hey, toji.” you say, rocking back and forth on your heel. “y/n.” toji says without even looking up from the paper he was grading. “could i speak to you?” you ask, walking towards toji and stopping in front of his desk. toji looks up at you through his glasses a smirk adorning his face. “speak.” toji tells you, looking up at you fully. “is there anyway i could get extra credit?” you ask, putting your louis vuitton bag on his desk, starting to unbutton the top of your blazer. toji starts laughing, standing up and towering over you. you look up at him, swallowing hard.
“you think seducing me will get me to want you more?” he asks, pulling you into his body into the small of your back. he leans down into your ear, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “because it’s working…” he says, trailing his hand down your skirt. you let out a sigh, bringing your arms around his neck. “lunch ends in 10 minutes…” you whine out, propping yourself against toji’s desk. toji looks up at you with a hungry stare. “better cum in 10 minutes then…” toji chuckled, pulling your panties to the side and slipping two fingers into your cunt with a groan. “look at you.” he grins. “what’s your grade?” toji asks, making casual conversation.
“a…b minus..” you whine, arching your back. “mmm…you’re a smart girl. i don’t have any idea how you have a b minus in my class. it’s as if you’ve been planning this for a while.” toji smiles, pumping his fingers faster. he was catching onto you. it was as if he knew your every move. when you only responded with breathy moans and a whine of “five minutes left…” toji grinned at you, curving his fingers — hitting that spongey spot in you. you arch your back and cum on toji’s finger with a high pitched moan. toji slaps his hand over your mouth and takes his fingers out of you, sucking on his fingers.
“go to class.” he says, popping his fingers from his plush lips.
#myatalks🫡#black reader#blkshoyo#im black#i love being black#ilovemyfollowers#ilysm <3#anime#being black#writing is my therapy#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x black reader#fushiguro toji x you#jjk x you#jjk x black!reader#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x black reader#jjk x plus size reader#jjk x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fushiguro#toji smut#toji x y/n#fushiguro toji smut#fushiguro toji
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CLEAN THIS UP - oneshot
Dark Steve Rogers x employee
Warnings; dark Steve rogers, slightly non-con, smut, pls read w discretion. MINORS DNI
AN; My first one shot! I hope you enjoy and all feedback is appreciated :)
You were aware of how people looked down on your job. The pitying looks they sent your way, the quick glances they’d send to others upon your admittance. Yes, you were a cleaner. Despite these interactions, you still took pride in your job. It paid the bills and put food on the table.
You’d worked at the Stark Tower for a few weeks, settling in easily enough. The work itself was doable, and it paid considerably well compared to other similar positions.
The only thing that really bothered you was the dress code. Yes, the job might not be the poshest gig ever, but you still liked to look good. People expected you to wear joggers, hoodies, rags. That wasn’t you. You took pride in your appearance. Every morning you pulled on a combination of a short skirt and a loose fitting sweater.
Even if your job wasn’t the most respectable, you would look the part. This was how you began to butt heads with Steve Rogers.
You made him sick. Really.
You’d see eachother every now and again, accidentally stumbling into a meeting room you had believed to be empty, rounding the corner to see him exiting the gym.
You were convinced he despised you. The way his jaw clenched as he strolled past you. The annoyed sigh he’d let out while you profusely apologised for interrupting his work.
It wasn’t until this morning, when you threw on a patterned mini skirt, and a skin tight shirt that Steve finally blew his temper.
You were mopping his vacant office, bending over to move a plant pot, when he pushed the door open. Shock gripped him. You were on your knees, leaning over, your skirt riding up slightly. It was perverted, the way he started salivating. He knew he should’ve left. But this… was too good to leave.
He slowly closed the door, the lock clicking. You, still peacefully oblivious to the man above you and his hardening cock.
“Do you dress like a whore to get my attention, or do you genuinely think it’s a good look on you?”
You jumped up, your hand landing on your chest as your breathing heaved.
“Oh my-. You scared me Stev-”
“Captain. You will address me as captain.” He cut you off, glowering in the way he had frightened you. He towered over you. Drinking in your shocked face, body still arranged on the floor.
You scrambled. Hands reaching for your mop bucket as you rose to your feet. You were opening your mouth, to spit out an apology, and explain how you’ll get out from under his feet right away.
You attempted to step around him, his huge body acting as a brick wall. But he grabbed your arm. His big hand wrapping around your bicep. He loved the way your breathing shallowed, and the way his fingers wrapped around your entire arm. You were so small. No match for him.
“I asked you a question. Or have you only got enough room in that dumb little brain of yours to plan these slutty outfits?”
Your eyebrows furrowed. Captain America. The country’s golden boy, talking to you like this?
“W-what?” You whispered. The grip on your arm got tighter. Painfully so. “They’re just clothes, Steve”
His hand released your arm and snatched your jaw. It was demeaning, humiliating. His face neared yours, you took in his blacked out pupils as you fruitlessly tried to pull away.
“Call me Steve again, I’ll shove my cock so far down your throat you’ll never speak again”
He released your cheeks enough for you to reply, drinking in the red marks his fingers had left.
“Y-yes, Captain”, your voice came out in a whisper.
He released you, pushing you into the middle of the room. What was he doing?
Steve started circling you. His eyes raking over your body. The way your breasts were pressing against your top, constricted with your panicked breathing. The swell of your ass against your skirt. The flush growing in your cheeks.
Was a slut like you really innocent? He thought.
Like a vulture and its prey. He reached out and touched you lightly, fingers tracing the swell of your breasts, trailing down to your waist. It was dizzying. You never knew where he was going to grab next.
His touches oddly soft for the scenario.
He positioned himself behind you. One hand fisting your hair at the base, and the other one rising to wrap around your throat. He yanked you back into him. Your body plush against his.
“Feel what you do to me”, he growled into your ear, his grip on your throat getting tighter. He was referencing the boner that was pressing into your back. You could practically feel it throbbing. His grip tightened.
“C-captain”, you gasped out, your fingernails scratching at the hand wrapped around your neck.
“What is it, baby?” He cooed sarcastically, his hand releasing from your scalp to brush a few stray pieces of hair from your face.
Your eyes rolling into the back of your head from the lack of oxygen. Just as you were about to pass out, he finally loosened his grip. “Are you ready to apologise for dressing like such a fucking slut?”
With both hands of your waist he whipped you around, so you were facing him. Your head dizzy from both the spinning and the choking. You had to crane your head to look at him.
“I-sorry Captain”, your eyes like saucers, an attempt to plead with him. The humiliation causing tears to prickle your eyes.
He let out a guttural laugh, a snarl taking over his face. “It’s just not good enough, honey. Is it?”
You opened your mouth to reply, to defend your case, but he spoke over you, “if you’re really sorry, you’ll walk your ass over to my desk and bend yourself over it”.
Your mouth went dry. Opening and closing in a comic manner. His hand dropped to your ass, giving it a light tap, directing you to his desk. He was so authoritarian.
Ashamedly, you tip-toed to his desk, constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for Steve to tell you he was joking, but the punchline was never coming. You leaned over his desk, your breath hitching when you realised he was no longer in sight,
A carnal groan sounded from your superiors throat. He was kneeling between your legs, gently pushing your skirt up, above your hips. Sighing in contemptment when his eyes landed on your little, white, cotton panties. You mentally cursed yourself.
With no warning, he pressed his thumb on your panties, hovering over your hole. You gasped, your body rising up the table, desperate to get away from him. His hands instantly landed on your hips, dragging you back down.
“You’re fucking dripping. Aren’t you embarrassed, honey?” His free hand came down on your ass cheek with an open palm. Hard. You yelped. The sound went straight to his cock.
He hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties, yanking them down your spread legs.
“Oh fuck”, he murmured to himself. A string of slick was connecting your cunt to your panties.
Why am I so fucking wet?
He kneaded your ass cheeks, his hands closing in on your inner thighs. He spread your legs further, eyeing up the way your folds spread. “Most perfect fucking pussy I’ve ever seen”.
He began his vicious attack. His forefinger pushing into your weeping pussy speedily. Your back arched off the table, as his free hand anchored down your lower body.
“How are you so fucking tight?” He spoke to himself. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve assumed he was agitated, but looking at his face, and the way his eyes couldn’t leave your pussy, you knew he was enamored.
You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan, but when his tongue hit your clit, you couldn’t help the breathy noise that left your mouth. It only spurred him on more. Sucking your clit harshly, letting his teeth graze over the bud.
It was too much, too rough. You were teetering on the edge, desperate for release.
“C-cap…please, ple-”, you were incredulously repeating his name as your back arched from the desk, your hands gripping the edge. You knew you weren’t making sense. It was almost embarrassing, the way you melted under his touch.
Steve groaned as he felt you clench around his fingers. So fucking tight, he thought. You creamed around his fingers, Steve lapping it all up. Your mind in a haze as you come down from your orgasm.
In an instant, you were dragged from your relaxed state, a hand planted on the back of your head, pulling you to your feet by your hair once again. You winced at the pain, feeling a few strands snap.
“Was that too much for you, poor baby?” He soothed you disingenuously, whispering the question in your ear. You didn’t know whether to nod or shake your head, simply whimpering in response, barely able to stand with your weak knees. You could feel a grin grow on his face, “of course not, you’ll take everything I fucking give you.”
He toyed with the hem of your shirt before ripping it over your head. He spun you around again, his eyes instantly falling to your bare tits. He palmed them, toying with the hardening nipples.
“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” Steve asked, his fingers twisting your nipples almost painfully, “your captain throwing you around, doing whatever he wants to you. What if your captain wanted to fuck you, hm? The captain fucking the needy, little cleaner”
Your mouth fell open, unable to form words when he slapped your breast. “Captain, I-”
He took your face within his hands, gently, almost lovingly. His face neared yours, his nose nuzzling yours.
He spoke softly, “a little slut like you couldn’t say no to that”. Fuck. His words are so brazen but his actions are so soft. Your fingers gripped the edge of your desk in an attempt to ground yourself, aware of how bare you were in front of the fully clothed man.
He pushed you back onto the desk before unbuckling his belt. The clanking sound grabbing your attention. He let his trousers fall to his ankles, you could feel yourself salivating. He pulled his briefs down, his cock slapping against his abs.
Releasing a gritty exhale, he lined himself up against you, sliding in with no warning.
“F-fuck”, you cried out. Placing a hand on your captain's chest, attempting to get him to slow down. He could feel the tension, the way your walls were reluctant to let him in. He didn’t care.
Steve's hand landed on your throat, pushing you flat onto the desk. “Don’t fucking swear”, he gritted deeply. He hated how he already felt close to cumming, your cunt gripping him like a vice. You could feel bruises starting to form on your hips.
Your head lolled back as he started thrusting with rhythm. Steve watched as your mouth fell agape, breasts bouncing with each thrust.
I’ve barely started and I’ve fucked this slut stupid, he thought.
His hand gripped your left thigh, lifting you up from the desk slightly, hitting your g-spot from a different angle. Fuck. Your hands flailing as your back arches from the desk. You’d never been fucked so good in all your life.
You opened your eyes to look at him. His hair falling in front of his face. But when you made eye contact, something shifted. He looked into your fucked out eyes, tear-stained cheeks. He leaned down and kissed you. Gently, sensually. His tongue sliding over your swollen lips. He’d never done this before. He’d never kissed one of his conquests.
Not only that, he’d never kissed one with such care. His hand rose to the side of your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheekbone. You sighed into his open mouth, feeling a small smile grow on your mouth.
His hand fell to the nape of your neck, tugging your head back. “C-captain”, you sighed, sickeningly sweet.
“Shut the fuck up”, Steve grunted, “just…keep kissing me”. His hand raising your head up, forcing your lips against his.
His kissing was such a stark contrast to the way he was fucking you. Your head was spinning, but not as much as his. He couldn’t get enough of your lips, your tongue. You were addictive. He couldn’t stop, barely parting to breathe.
When you started clenching down on his cock, struggling to kiss him back when you felt yourself climax, he felt his balls tighten.
He murmured a string of curse words against your lips. “So fucking good. Fuc-”.
You felt his warm release cover your walls.
He pulled away from you immediately, you felt cold without his contact. You sat up on the desk silently, watching him put his trousers back on.
Steve was conflicted. He couldn’t look at you. He was afraid he’d kiss you again. This wasn't him. He couldn't do this. Fuck.
“Captain-“, bravely you reached out, your fingers brushing his shoulder.
His mouth fell agape, similarly to how yours did earlier. “Don’t wear one of those slutty outfits again, okay?”
He wasn’t as assertive as before. His eyes darting over your face, trying not to land on your lips.
His hand touched the door knob as he looked over his shoulder, “and clean this up”, referring to the cum dripping from your legs. He exited the office, slamming the door, leaving you bare on the desk.
Little did he know, you were planning to find your shortest skirt, tightest top, and highest heels to wear tomorrow. You’d be waiting in his office for him. This wasn’t over. You grinned to yourself.
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tangle me in all your broken pieces (and watch me stay) | ch 3
Loki x Reader
Series Summary: An Asgardian god has just threatened your planet and you were called in to provide a little help. What you didn't expect was to develop a strange soft spot for said god, who hid more pain behind his cold facade than you thought possible.
A/N: This story is already occupying a very special place in my heart.
Word count: 4,2k
Masterlist | Read ch 2 here
You arrived at Stark Tower a little before noon. The quinjet landed on top of the building and you were once again relieved to be stepping out of it. The ride back had somehow been even worse than the one before, as there was a heavy shadow looming in the air.
Loki had been quiet since he'd stepped back in the jet after the meeting with Odin, his eyes always downcast, fixed on his cuffed hands. You couldn't blame him—even though it felt foreign to see him so… broken, compared to the confident god you first saw being escorted to his cage a couple of days ago—you could only imagine how bare he must be feeling without his powers.
You walked out of the jet and followed Tony inside the top floor of his tower, trying to ignore the weight of a certain stare on your back. Sometimes you forgot just how much money Tony had, being here was a good reminder. Floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked all of New York allowed the sunlight to shine on the plush, velvety burgundy couches, the marble walls, the exaggerated chandelier, and the fancy built-in bar. You certainly won't mind living here, it was quite a step up from your humble apartment.
"I'll arrange for someone to go pick up your stuff from your apartment," Tony spoke, glancing at you over his shoulder, "do you want to go with or wait here?"
"I can wait here," you shrugged, "As long as they bring all my clothes, my laptop, and my cat."
Tony stopped in his tracks and waited for you to reach his side. He narrowed his eyes, "So we're having an actual cat too?"
You opened and closed your mouth, "Uh- I can't leave her alone in my apartment for so long, Tony."
The billionaire hummed halfheartedly, resuming his path toward the elevator at the far end of the room. "No scratch marks on my furniture, please."
"Me and Thor will have to hang back for now," Fury called, walking up to the built-in bar and pouring himself a drink, "I assume you have it handled from here?" He raised an eyebrow at both you and Tony.
"Yes, darling," Tony answered with a smile and pressed the button for the elevator. He whistled and gestured with a hand for Loki, "Come on, reindeer games, you're with us."
Thor let go of where he had been holding Loki by the arm, "I'll see you later, brother." Not waiting for an answer, he threw a smile your way and joined Fury, already asking about the drink in the director's hand.
Loki approached you with staggered steps, huffing out a sigh when he stopped beside you. He still had those same traces of anger lingering on his features; lips drawn into a line, eyes just a tad narrowed, shoulders tense.
The elevator arrived with a ding and you, Tony, and Loki stepped in; with Loki in the middle.
Your hands were clammy, you brushed them on your black jeans to try and chase the feeling away. You didn't know why you were so nervous, this had been your idea, after all. Maybe it was because you could feel all that tension flowing off of Loki—with him standing so close to you, his shoulder mere inches away from touching yours.
The ride down a few floors was agonizingly slow, with only the low humming of the elevator as it moved.
You cleared your throat and broke the uncomfortable silence. "Tony," you called, leaning just a tad forward so you could see him past Loki. You showed him your wrist and wiggled it, raising your eyebrows pointedly.
A deep frown etched itself into Tony's features until his eyes lit up when he understood what you meant. "Oh, right." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a thin, black bracelet with an even thinner strip of soft green light around it. "Because we are civilized," he began, turning to Loki. "I took the liberty of making you this." He raised the bracelet in front of the god, who looked wholly unimpressed.
Unceremoniously, Tony reached for one of Loki's wrists and clasped the bracelet on him. It closed comfortably yet forcefully, it wasn't coming off anytime soon. Once it was secured, he finally removed the uncomfortable handcuffs Loki was still wearing.
A grimace appeared on Loki's face, he rubbed his wrists as soon as they were free. You winced as you caught sight of the reddish skin from where the cuffs had been pressuring. He then turned the single wrist that now styled the new device, observing it closely with a small frown.
Loki chuckled; "You can't expect this little thing to keep me here."
"I can, actually," Tony explained, gesturing to Loki's bracelet, "This little thing has a tracker and if you try to leave this tower when you're not supposed to, or try to take it off, we will know pretty much immediately." His smile was proud and just a tad mocking.
A scoff went past Loki's lips. "Lovely," he mumbled.
"I would really like it if you did try to escape, by the way," Tony suggested, rather animatedly, "Gives me an excuse to test my new security system." There was a sly smirk on his lips, he shrugged, "You'd probably survive."
"Tony! Come on," you groaned, shooting him a glare.
The billionaire rolled his eyes; "I'm kidding, relax."
The elevator finally arrived at what would be your new home. A whole floor exclusively for you and Loki—it had been your request, you figured it would be more peaceful this way and you knew Tony had the means and space to make it happen. As the doors slid open the first thing you noticed was the living room, it was big, spacious, and had a massive burgundy couch with a huge TV in front of it; on one side of the living room was your own set of floor-to-ceiling windows along with the double doors that led to the balcony, on the other side was the kitchen, an open concept adjacent to the living room; further into the room were two doors, one beside the other, which you assumed were the bedrooms. Everything had a beautiful modern look and exuded luxury, the least you'd expect from something Tony built.
"Right, I'm dropping you two off here and heading down to the lab," Tony clasped his hands together, then turned to you; "Your room is the one on the right, I'll ask them to drop your things there."
You opened your mouth to speak, but Tony beat you to it; "And the cat, yes."
You stepped out of the elevator and a moment later Loki begrudgingly followed. The god didn't wait for you or spared Tony another glance before walking into the living room, taking in the place, his fingers tracing the velvet of the couch as he looked around.
"Thank you, Tony." You watched Loki for a beat longer before turning back to your friend. "Truly." You smiled softly.
A sigh escaped Tony's lips, his eyes darting to Loki, "Hope he's worth all this drama." Settling his attention back on you, he raised a finger, taking on a serious tone, "If you need anything, if he does anything, you call me, understand?"
"Yes," you reassured him, burying your hands in the pockets of your cardigan. "I will, don't worry."
With that, Tony bid you goodbye for now, and you were left alone with Loki. A soft breeze came in through the open windows, sending a shiver down your spine. Everything had happened so fast, one moment Fury was dragging you out of your apartment to help stop a god who wanted to rule over your planet, and now here you were, being roommates with said god. A quiet chuckle fell past your lips. What are the odds?
"You have a strange kind of courage."
Loki's voice rang through the quiet room, capturing your attention and urging you to turn around and face him. Once you locked eyes, you raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking that he elaborate.
"Or should I say… stupidity," A devilish smirk came to Loki's features, and he took slow and calculated steps toward you. "Locking yourself here, alone, with me." His voice grew huskier, lower. His bright eyes roamed up and down your body, until he was close enough that you could nearly feel his breath on your lips. "Oh, the things I could do to you," he whispered, the daunting tilt of his lips ever-present.
You held the silence for a moment longer, doing your best not to avoid his gaze. You knew what he was trying to do; he wanted to intimidate you, make you feel vulnerable and small. Just as he was feeling right now.
"Aren't we past the bluffing already?" You mimicked his smirk. You could tell he was caught by surprise when his eyebrows knitted together in a confused frown. A quiet laugh escaped you and you rolled your eyes. "Come on, let's go see your room." You didn't wait for an answer before walking around him and towards the two doors at the back.
You turned the door handle that led to what would be Loki's bedroom. It was pretty simple and bare, still. There was a double bed against the wall, a dresser, a desk in front of huge double windows, two bedside tables on each side of the bed with a lamp on one of them, a bookcase without any books, and another door that you assumed led to a bathroom.
"It's cozy," you mused, "Give it a little personal touch it'll soon feel like home, right?" You turned to look at Loki, who had made his way to you and was analyzing the room with narrowed eyes.
Instead of entertaining your attempt at banter, he said instead; "you don't want to challenge me, mortal."
You threw your hands in the air, "Oh my god, when did I ever challenge you?" You asked exasperatedly, losing the remains of patience you had. "Is this all you know how to do? Threaten the people who want to help you?"
"Help me?" Loki all but growled, "Because of you I'm stranded on this pathetic planet, and my magic has been taken from me." He spat the words with clenched fists, towering over you, "Don't think for one minute that I've forgotten how you've messed with my mind, just wait until I've-"
"Because of me you are not rotting in a dungeon forever," you raised your voice to match his tone, shoving a finger at his chest, "Because of me you're free from the people who fucking tortured you."
Loki blinked multiple times as soon as the words left your mouth, almost as if you'd slapped him. His lips hovered open yet he didn't speak.
You softened when you caught the flash of hurt in his eyes as the memories undoubtedly came back to the surface. You closed your eyes, breathed in, and opened them again. "Believe it or not, I actually meant it when I said I only wanted to help you."
A half-hearted scoff went past his lips and he shook his head. "And why would you ever do that? Surely not from the goodness of your heart." For the first time, his voice held something other than anger, you just couldn't pinpoint what it was. "What is it that you're after?"
You shrugged as a melancholic smile graced your lips. It was rather sad that Loki couldn't fathom the thought of help coming without a price. "I don't know, maybe I'm just that stupid, right?" You stepped out of his bedroom, holding the door handle, "I'll be outside if you need me." With that you closed the door, leaving Loki alone in his room.
For several moments he simply stood there, eyes fixed on the plain wood of the door. Then a shaky breath went past his lips, and his shoulders sagged; all anger washed away, leaving room only for sorrow. Slowly, reality finally started to down on him. Loki turned around in the spot, gaze roaming over his new chambers. From out the window, he could see the never-sleeping city of New York, the world he once wished to take over; it felt like so long ago already, a far-fetched attempt at filling the gaping hole left in his chest from empty promises.
A sharp sting of pain suddenly pierced his back, going down his spine as he stretched. He winced, rubbing the sore spot. Telltales of his captor, the one you'd freed his mind from.
You. Why would you do what you did? What could you possibly gain by trying to help him?
You confused him, a mystery ever since Loki first laid eyes on you, one he was yet to uncover. The fact that you had been able to pry into his mind so easily, see glimpses of his misfortunes, made him feel uneasy. And from all the things he assumes you could've done, you chose to cut The Other's hold of him, and nothing more.
Loki would never admit to the relief it had been, almost as if plucking out an arrow that had been piercing his skin and making him bleed. He refrained from dwelling on the matter for now, especially if you'd insist that you wanted nothing from him—unlikely.
He took one step forward, and then another, and one more. And his vision grew blurry. He opened his mouth only for a choked sob to stumble out. He'd never felt this bare, this defenseless, this vulnerable.
Loki raised his hands, fingers trembling. He tried to bring all his energy to his fingertips, gritting his teeth as his tears fell past the bottom lid of his eyes and dropped to the floor beneath his feet. Nothing. Not even a single spark of green.
Loki's knees hit the floor. He brought his arms around himself. His whole life, living amongst kings and warriors, his seiðr was all he had. And now, he doesn't know who he is without it.
He wanted to blame you. He so desperately wanted to lay the blame on you for losing his powers, for his exile on earth. Alas, it was a weak attempt. A lie that would do him no good in the end.
Several minutes went by with Loki kneeling on the floor of his bedroom, fading into the background like many times before. And like many times before, he eventually picked himself back up, drying his own tears with the back of his sleeve, and taking deep breaths to calm his bruised heart.
Loki made a beeline for the bathroom, maybe a warm shower would do him some good.
─── ·❆· ───
You were sitting on the kitchen counter when Loki finally left his bedroom again. Tony had already gotten Happy to bring most of your things from your apartment, your cat included. The fluffy ball of grey fur lay beside you as your fingers mindlessly scratched behind her ears, making her purr contently.
The sound of a door closing made you look up from your cell phone. Loki approached you as if he were a stray cat seeing a human for the first time—you briefly wondered just how long it would take him to feel comfortable here. His hair was damp, falling just a little past his shoulders in shiny raven curls; he still wore the same clothes from before and you made a mental note to ask that Tony arrange more clothes for him.
"Hey," you greeted gently with a small smile, "Did you calm down?"
Loki gave you an unamused glare before averting his gaze to the windows on the other side. "No," he mumbled just for the sake of it.
"I'm ordering a bit of a late lunch," you wiggled your phone even though he wasn't looking at you, "Would you like something?"
Slowly, Loki's eyes trailed back to you. He said nothing as he momentarily held your gaze, before focusing on the cat laying beside you. A rather adorable frown came to his features then.
You noticed. "Loki, this is Rain," you introduced, gesturing to the cat. "Rain, that's Loki," then gestured to the god, "He's gonna be our new roomie."
"That's a strange name for a cat," Loki commented, taking half a step closer to you.
You simply shrugged, "It was raining pretty hard the day I found her on the street, it seemed fitting." A beat of silence passed. "You… can pet her if you want, she's friendly," you suggested timidly, pursing your lips as you looked at him.
Loki's eyes shot back to your face, his stern gaze returning. "No."
You sighed and pushed yourself off the counter, much to Rain's dismay, "Okay, listen, whether you like it or not, this is gonna be your life for the foreseeable future, yeah?" You kept your voice as gentle as you could, "So can we try not to make each day feel more miserable than the last? I mean, you have to admit that this is better than whatever dungeon they were going to throw you in." With a tentative smile, you gestured widely to the whole floor that now belonged to both of you.
Loki kept silent, his jaw set tightly in place.
At last, you admitted defeat and accepted the fact that chit-chat would not be a thing. You groaned; "Just- do you want lunch or not?"
"Of course I want lunch," Loki snapped, "I haven't eaten in nearly two days."
Immediately, your eyes went wide with shock, "You haven't-" You hesitated, "What do you mean you haven't eaten in two days? Didn't they feed you back at the Helicarrier?"
It was a fraction of a second, but you thought you saw Loki's gaze softening at your concern. "Why would they bother?" He simply asked.
You gulped, trying to conceal how this made you feel. "No wonder you're so grumpy," you mumbled in an attempt to lighten the mood. "What would you like, then?"
You quickly discovered that Loki was worse at deciding what to eat than you were. For today you settled for pizza, not exactly healthy, but simple and tasty enough. When it arrived, Loki took his slices and promptly locked himself back in his room. Living with him certainly would be an experience; taking him out to connect with your world, that would be a challenge.
─── ·❆· ───
It almost felt like floating. For a moment, he was almost at peace as he fell, and fell, and fell. And then he was alone, wandering through uncharted, hostile lands. Each day was a battle just to keep breathing, to keep walking. His body was weak and giving up on him when he was found, and then, his voice started fading with each of the screams that no one cared to listen to. His skin burned, ripped open, and healed. Only to go through it again, and again. Until all fight was snuffed out of him.
"You will long for something as sweet as pain."
Loki woke up with a start, sitting up on his bed so quickly that a thousand stars danced in his vision. His breathing came out in desperate huffs of air, making his lungs sting and not nearly enough to calm his thundering heart.
He looked around frantically, feeling his lower lip wobble and his cheeks dampening when he didn't recognize his surroundings immediately. Clutching the sheets to ground himself, Loki closed his eyes and did the breathing exercise he taught himself. Slowly, the fog cleared, yet only a little. And when he opened his eyes again, he remembered why he was in this bedroom.
With a long sigh going past his lips, Loki buried his head in his hands, nails clawing at the root of his hair. He could feel his clothes clinging to his body because of the cold sweat.
He couldn't stay here. He needed to get out.
The floor felt cold against his bare feet, it grounded him to reality. Gulping down a lump in his throat, Loki took staggered steps to his door, reaching the handle with an unsteady hand.
They couldn't keep him here forever, they couldn't expect a damn fancy bracelet to keep him from leaving. He'd break it, cut it off if he had to.
The walls around him were suffocating, closing in on him as he stumbled into the living room. It was so dark, nothing but a void of pitch black with even darker shadows shaping the outlines of the furniture around him. Who was to say no harm would reach him here?
A pathetic whimper fell past his lips, tears clouded his vision. He had to get out. He had to escape. He had to-
"Are you okay?"
Loki halted in his steps. His hand gripping tightly onto the back of the couch.
Quiet. The night suddenly became so quiet. The walls were far away now, he realized. There was a cold breeze coming in through the open doors of the balcony, and a single dim orange light coming from the kitchen beside him, chasing away the darkness. Loki could breathe again.
He took several deep breaths and felt the relief in his lungs. Slowly, he turned his gaze to the right, to where the soft light and the sweet voice came from.
You were standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding a steamy mug between both your hands and looking at him with eyes just a tad too wide. You were dressed in a purple hoodie with black sweatpants. This was the first time Loki had seen you wearing anything that wasn't black, he noted.
A small frown came to your features and you took a single step closer, "Is everything okay?" You repeated when he didn't answer you.
"Yes," Loki mumbled, pointedly avoiding your eyes. "Just needed a bit of air."
You nodded in understanding, taking a small sip of your tea. If you felt the troubles inside his mind, you didn't show it.
It was… strange, how your voice was able to pull him from the depths of his own mind. Loki forced himself not to dwell too much on it. You had successfully distracted him, that's all.
He straightened his posture, feeling a little self-conscious for being witnessed in such a state. "Don't you sleep?" He raised a brow at you, praying you wouldn't notice the rawness of his voice.
You tapped your mug. Your gaze on him was unwavering, almost as if you could see into his very soul. Loki shifted his stance; not for the first time, he felt way too bare before you.
"I could ask the same of you." You walked closer, and then past him, heading towards the balcony.
Loki followed. Thoughts of escaping long forgotten. You intrigued him.
The air outside was colder than the floor beneath his feet. From this high up in the tower, the wind was almost howling. New York looked like nothing but a sea of blinking lights.
You leaned on the railing, mug in hand as you looked down at the city. Loki approached slowly, warily, until he stood beside you.
"Sometimes, even if I don't want to, I can feel… whispers of people's feelings," you continued, voice quiet amidst the wind. "The nights are calmer," You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply, "Quieter. Sometimes I like to enjoy the silence."
For a long moment, Loki said nothing. He blinked lazily as he mulled over your words. He'd be lying if he said your abilities didn't fascinate him. And then, he remembered, and his breathing stumbled again.
He had to know.
"How-" Loki hesitated. He focused down on his hand, on the faint scars on the back of it. "How did you know?" It was nothing but a breath, as if he didn't have the guts to speak louder tonight.
You turned to him, cocking your head to the side.
Loki pursed his lips. "How did you know… My mind was…" He cursed under his breath when the words got stuck and tangled in his tongue.
"I felt it." You told him simply, your voice as soft as satin. "When they first brought you in, I- I felt this… heaviness, like something wasn't quite right…"
Loki chanced a single glance towards you, only to find your eyes already focused on him. They were shining under the moonlight, "Like it was hurting you."
You spoke as if it was a secret, one you weren't sure was yours to keep.
Loki sneered. He avoided your gaze promptly, knuckles turning white with the force he gripped onto the railings.
"You're ridiculous," the words fell past Loki's lips before he could stop them. They were all he had to protect himself. "Why would you ever go against your peers to help someone like me? When I've threatened your life and killed your kind?" Yet now, he didn't know if he was saying them to mock you, or to punish himself.
"I don't believe you're truly bad," You confessed without an ounce of doubt or anger, voice steady and gentle as the cold wind.
Loki's gaze found yours again, and he couldn't recall if anyone had ever looked at him the way that you do.
Your smile didn't hold happiness; "You have sad eyes."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Ch 4 coming soon.
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
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#loki x reader#loki laufeyson#loki imagine#loki#marvel#loki series#loki x you#marvel x reader#loki x female reader#imagine#fanfic#angst#fluff#loki fanfic#my story#loki laufeyson x reader#tangle me in all your broken pieces
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mommy wanda dominating a reader taller than her please 😭🙏🙏
Oh, reader would be a menace because of that.
Wanda had faced many challenges in her life, especially as an avenger, but tossing orders at someone who she’d have to look up to give, was not in her plans. Your presence seemed to envelop her. Yet, she felt a sense of dominance course through her. With all that, you would still take advantage of your hight.
Kissing you would only be possible if you bent down, fucking you? Not so much. It all started when you heard Wanda huff from a distance, carefully, you made you way towards her. Wanda huffed in frustration as she stared up at the tantalizing item perched on the top shelf of her kitchen cabinet. Despite her best efforts, her stature proved no match for the unreachable height.
“Having troubles?” The smirk was undeniable on your face. “Stop tormenting me and help”. Wanda hated your constant teasing, it was something she saw as a bratty misbehave.
“Yes, lord farquaad” you reached for the ladle and handed to her, but she made no motion to grab the utensil from you. Reaching for her eyes, you were only met with fury. “I was kidding, wanda. I’m sorry” 
In one quick motion the ladle swung from your hand, cladding against the floor, emitting a sharp, metallic clang that reverberated through the room, punctuating the silence with an abrupt disruption. The witch’s eyes glowed red at you while red strings disappeared from her fingers. “Your lucky I won’t be using that ladle to spank you ass raw” she preached coming closer and closer but your form still towered over hers, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t all the power over you. The room fell silent, the only sounds coming from you gulping and ragged breathing.
“Kneel” Wanda’s eyes blazed with intensity as she stood before you, her voice carrying a commanding tone. “What? B- but… why?”. The witch’s patient was running thin, your questioning and stuttering wasn’t helpful either. Wanda, grabbed you by the shoulders forcing you to your knees, painfully hitting your kneecaps against the hardwood. Quickly she unbuttoned her pants making sure her gaze never left your pliable one. “See, baby? I can tower over you anytime I want, but since you wanna be so mouthy about it how about we put that bratty mouth to good use, huh?” Her red strap sprung free from its confines almost hitting your blushed cheek. Your eyes went wide at the size, your resolve quickly dissipating as you looked up at her in a silent plea for mercy, a stark contrast to Wanda’s unwavering presence, not granting you one.
“What? I thought inches wasn’t a problem for you.”
Stained black fingers running through your head in a soothing manner, enticing a faux sense of security that was swiftly replaced as she yanked you head back by your hair
“Now open wide”
#wanda maximoff x reader#mommy wanda#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff imagines#wanda x reader#wanda x you#drabble#ineedherusingmymouth
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Before The Party
⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*
Summary: Just before the party, you question your outfit choice; Steve shows you how beautiful you are.
Rating: 18+ (minors, do not interact)
Warnings: lighting grinding, kissing, horny Steve lol, insecure reader, Steve being the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.
Word Count: 1k
a/n: I love Steve so much, the sweetest of man I swear, also I wrote the sexier parts to After Last Night by Bruno Mars, let me tell ya, perfect song for the occasion hahah
⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*
Today was the annual Christmas party at Stark Tower. You usually dreaded going to these, but you have someone to go with this year. This year, you decided to go a little sexier; you're wearing a floor-length burgundy dress, off the shoulders, with an A-line silhouette with a high slit stopping just below the hip bone, accompanied with a silver heel with rhinestone embellished straps. For jewelry, you went with a simple 18K white gold pendant, and of course, the hair, Hollywood waves with a crystal hairpin tucking your hair behind your ear.
"I hope I'm not overdressed," you said to yourself, suddenly insecure in your outfit choice; you shook your head as if shaking the negative thoughts out of your head, "No, I look good, right?" you ask aloud, raking your eyes over the ensemble, questioning every choice you've made up to this point.
"Baby, have you seen my shoes?" Steve called, walking into the room, too concerned with his outfit to notice yours, but only for a moment.
"Hey, do I look okay?" Steve finally lifts his head, laying eyes on you for the first time. He had been with you throughout the whole process of picking out everything, but this was his first time seeing it all together. He was rendered speechless; all the words in the world couldn't describe how elegant and stunning you looked, the dress hugging all your curves perfectly, accentuating every mound and hill that was you, and don't get him started on the slit, highlighting your long legs, making your legs never-ending, Steve, staring like a starved man, eager to kiss up your legs, worshipping and memorizing every beauty mark and scar on your body.
"Steve, do I look okay?" you whimpered, a hint of sadness lingering in your voice; you turned to Steve, with tears welling up in your eyes, having convinced yourself that you looked horrible.
"Okay?" he asked, walking around your shared bed, slowly sweeping his eyes over your entire body.
"I look bad, don't I? Ugh, I knew the dress was a bad idea; maybe I shouldn't go tonight," you admit sadly, moving to sit on the bed; you slip your shoes off; you want to curl up and hide.
"No baby, not at all," Steve says wholeheartedly; he grabs one heel and gently slips your foot back into it; he buckles the strap by your ankle and brings your leg up to his mouth, slowly kissing up your leg.
"You look amazing," one kiss, "beautiful," another kiss, "ethereal," another kiss. You blush deeply and giggle with every kiss Steve lays on your leg.
"Steve," you whine, wiping your eyes away and pull him up for a passionate kiss filled with every ounce of love you felt for this man. Steve climbs on top of you, trapping you under his broad body, sliding his body in between your legs, fitting perfectly like puzzle pieces; you let out a breathy moan, grinding your hips up into Steve, desperate for friction. Steve swallows every moan he earns from you.
"Steve," you whimpered, gripping his arms tightly. "Steve, we're gonna be late," you say, grinding into him despite your protests.
"Let's skip it," he groans, moving his lips to your neck and sucking gently, meeting every buck of your hips perfectly, drawing a whine from you.
"We can't, Tony. Will never let us live it down," you sigh. Steve groans loudly and climbs off you, extending his hand out to help you sit up.
"Whatever you say, Y/N," he laughs, smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit; he kneels in front of you and helps you put on your other heel, kissing up your legs like before.
"How do I look?" Steve asked; he was dressed in a light grey suit that complimented his blue eyes, accentuating his broad shoulders wonderfully; you ran your hands up his arm and past his shoulders, tip-toeing up to kiss him sweetly.
"Ravishing, my love," you utter in between kisses. Steve smiles into the kiss and rests his hand on the small of your back, pulling you into a deeper kiss; you break the kiss slowly, fluttering your eyes open.
"Ready to go?" you asked, scanning him over, laughing at his feet; he still doesn't have his shoes on.
"On the bed," you say confidently, Steve laughs.
"Yes, ma'am," he jokes playfully, watching you as you slowly kneel in front of him. "Now that's what I'm talking about," he says, smiling coyly; you smack his leg light-heartedly, grinning from ear to ear.
"The shoes," you say plainly, holding out your hand. Steve places the shoes in your hand, and you slowly slide his foot into each shoe; you gently pat his feet when you're finished.
"Let's go," you say happily, hooking your arm with Steve. The car ride to the tower was smooth and uneventful; Steve rested his hand on your thigh, drawing random patterns the whole way.
"We're here," Steve says and quickly hops out of the car, lightly jogging over to your side, opening the door for you, and offering his hand to assist you; you smile shyly and the gentlemanly gesture; Steve was always so chivalrous, never missing an opportunity to make you feel like a princess. Steve hands the keys over to the chauffeur and holds his arm out for you to rest your arm; you smile at Steve and stride forward, heels satisfyingly clapping against the tile. You smile up at Steve for the umpteenth time tonight while waiting for your elevator. The elevator arrives with a ding, and you step in, checking yourself one last time in the reflection; the doors open, and you meet with an array of fellow Avengers dressed to the nines, everyone smiling and drinking carelessly, soft Christmas music played by the live band filled your ears, you gently squeeze Steve's arm nervously, Steve returns a reassuring squeeze of your hand.
"We got this," Steve says with a nod; when you step through the threshold, your eyes meet with Wanda and Natasha; smiling brightly at them, they look at you with their mouths hanging open. "You look hot," Wanda mouths from across the room; you laugh, throwing your head back. Steve laughs and lets go of your arm to let you go to the girls; you give Steve one last look before excitedly walking over to them, and you're met with excited squeals and hugs.
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers imagine#steve x you#steve x reader#steve rogers one shot#steve rogers fanfiction#captain america#captain america x reader#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel fluff#marvel fanfiction#marvel one shot#chris evans#fluffcember 2023#steve rogers fic#steve rogers oneshot#captain america fic#steve rogers fanfic#jennys.work
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So, you got Detention
@berrys-hide-out Hey Berry, I hope reading this cheers you up a little, hope you like it <3. @cantsaythetword I didn't forget to tag you, here you go :)
Summary: Getting detention sucks. Getting detention for something you haven't done sucks even more. Getting detention and getting scolded through a Captain America PSA for something you haven't done and going home to have said man looking at you disappointedly is the bad-tasting cheery on top that Peter didn't need on this absolute disaster of a Monday. At least he gets the satisfaction of telling the rest of the team about Cap's PSAs. That's going to be fun.
Read on Ao3
"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you," sings Peter softly before his face turns into a grimace. "I'm never getting this song out of my head now. Thanks for that, Ned," mutters the teen without any bite, stepping out of the subway station. Despite Rick Astley uninvitedly declaring his love inside Peter's head, his lip twitched upwards for the first time today. He was glad to be finally heading to the Avengers Tower. Peter was ready to lock himself into the lab with Mr. Stark and ask the man what they would work on today. Him needing to bring distance between himself and the rest of the world doesn't come off as much of a surprise, taking into account that today had sucked until now. Immensely. At least in Mr. Stark's lab, nothing could get on his nerves, breaking the continuation of a bleak day.
It began with oversleeping.
The shrill sound of the alarm had cruelly torn Peter out of a dreamless slumber, and with a soft moan, the still sleep-drunk teen had aimlessly patted for the clock to end the obnoxious sound. As soon as silence had fallen over the bedroom, Peter's eyelids dropped, and although telling himself that it would just be five more minutes of lying down, he promptly fell asleep again. If Spiderman had stuck to his curfew and not exploited his aunt working overtime, there might be a chance getting to school late could have been avoided. When Peter woke the second time, tiredly checking his mobile phone, he sprung up in shock as he caught the time. Twenty minutes before the bell would ring. With no time for breakfast, he had washed up as quickly as he could, shoved the next best sweater and jeans he could find into his backpack, and sprinted out of the apartment. Peter usually avoided swinging to school, but drastic times called for drastic measures. He just hoped there wouldn't be any posts or articles of people wondering what Spiderman was doing, swinging this early in the morning cause that always prompted a rather unwelcome interview with Mr. Stark, or worse, Aunt May.
In his hurry to get to school on time, the boy had packed the wrong folder, thus having to scribble the history homework onto a paper two minutes before classes started. MJ had caught him sitting on the floor before the classroom, rushing to copy Ned's answers as if his life depended on it. She had pulled up an eyebrow before rolling her eyes. The girl didn't have to say anything for Peter's ears to grow red, embarrassed to look this unprepared in front of their decathlon team captain. Classes were relatively uneventful. Well, apart from the Spanish vocabulary test that Peter might have forgotten. Luckily, he could answer everything, although the boy was sure he spelled at least two words wrong. At lunch, Peter had felt the aftereffect of not eating breakfast as his stomach was rebelling, threatening to start eating itself from the sounds of it. The teen swore he could eat at least three portions until he had seen what they served today. To clarify, Peter isn't a picky eater. At all. Living years with Aunt Mays cocking trained him into trying everything deemed edible, and the hunger did the rest. But today, out of all days, the cafeteria ladies decided to let their presumable hate for the students show in the manifestation of the most disgusting-looking meatballs the boy had ever seen.
"Are those capers?"
Ned had glanced from his fork, where a with sauce dripping green ball of something pierced on, over to Peter, who, in return, squinted down onto his plate. He pushed the greens covered in watered-down sauce with his fork around before looking at his best friend with a frown.
"Could be. But to be honest, I don't really wanna find out."
The food had tasted just as it looked, and Peter was glad he was enhanced because he was sure if that weren't the case, he would have gotten food poisoning. How Ned got the funny-tasting excuses for a meal down was still a mystery to him. Having no money to buy something else to eat and knowing that his metabolism wouldn't let him go on without eating, Peter hadn't had much of a choice other than to force the stuff down his throat.
"If I don't show up to school tomorrow, you know what has happened to me," Ned had said with a slightly pained expression as he pushed his empty plate away to put a safety distance between himself and his lunch.
"Same," agreed Peter as he stood up. He had thrown a look at the leftovers, suppressing a shudder as he collected the food tray. They quickly left the cafeteria and the traumatic lunch experience the place brought with it behind. On their way to biology class, Peter had hope that this was the point where his day would finally turn, where it would start getting better. But of course, no day at school could end without Flash strutting up to them, holding onto the need to be insufferable. Flash had been making a beeline for Peter. The intent to bump his shoulder into Peter had been painfully obvious. Flash's nearing presence had sent Peter's spider-sense off, and it took the vigilante some willpower to let the impact happen.
"What, not apologizing for blocking the hall with your stupid face, Parker?"
Not wanting the situation to escalate, Peter tried to overlook the provocation. He wasn't looking forward to a confrontation, minding his business and continuing walking away when Ned whispered. "Don't mind him. Flash probably ate one too many of those meatballs and now feels like crap." Peter was aware that his friend only meant to lighten up the mood. He couldn't help heaving a sigh when their classmate turned around with an icy glare. "What did you say about me, Fatty?"
Apparently, Neds whispering had not been as quiet as intended. Flash had snarled, hand reaching out to grab Ned's collar but grasped at nothing as Peter anticipated the action and pulled his friend out of reach. He had shoved himself between the two and tried to calm Flash down when the teen grabbed his arm roughly, pulling him closer.
"Listen, Parker, one more word from your friend and I-" The rest of his threat had gotten cut off by the booming voice of Mrs. Warren echoing through the hallway, causing the students standing near her to jump at the sound.
"Parker, Thompson! Detention!"
"Fuck you, Parker."
With a glare, Flash had let go of him and stomped away under the watchful eye of Mrs. Warren. Ned had turned wide-eyed to his friend, carefully laying his hand on Peter's arm where Flash had grabbed him.
"Are you hurt? Peter, I'm so sorry, you shouldn't get detention because of me. I'll talk to Mrs. Warren."
Peter had pulled Ned back with a tired sigh. "Don't bother, Ned. You know Mrs. Warren won't change her mind. She's not exactly my biggest fan. I'll message Mr. Stark that I'm going to be late."
Ned was quick to protest. " But you did nothing wrong! Dude, that's just not fair!"
"It's alright, Ned. It's only detention. It won't be too bad."
By the time Peter finally got to step out of the building, he felt the urge to shake his head at his naivety. Detention had been downright awful. The second the supervising teacher had rolled in the antic tube television, Peter had an odd foreboding of what would come. The old device had flickered to life, and the speaker began playing with a static noise that made Peter wince inwardly. Peter swears he could see Mr. Stark before his inner getting an aneurysm at the sight and sound of their school equipment. Peter had ignored the burning pair of eyes trying to bore into the back of his head, courtesy of Flash, the latter trying to get his attention by calling him names but got told off by their teacher quickly. Peter had also noticed the lack of MJ, who chose today out of all days, not bothering to sketch someone's questioning of their life choices, and maybe detention would have been a tiny bit less terrible with her in the classroom. His eyes had flipped back to the TV, where a star-spangled, all too familiar-looking man sat down on a chair and began talking.
"So, your body is changing. Believe me. I know how that feels."
Peter had sunk deeper into his chair with a groan, the need to bid his lunch goodbye stronger than ever. Sixty painful minutes of unwanted advice from America's most popular and still living icon later, Peter is on his way to the Tower when his mobile phone vibrates inside his jeans pocket, Ned's name greeting him on the display.
"Hey, Peter. I'm still really sorry for earlier. But look what I found! This article is about Spiderman!"
Peter was glad his headphones were on as he clicked on the link Ned had sent him, as Never Gonna Give You Up blasts into his ears. It took him a few seconds as he stared down at his mobile phone, where the singer cheerfully danced behind his microphone, only for him to realize what happened. A surprised chuckle makes it out of his mouth as Peter holds his mobile phone up and whispers, "Dude, did you just rickroll me?". The grin was evident in his voice before he sent the audio message. It doesn't take Ned a minute to answer with a series of laugh emojis. Peter continuously chats with Ned on his way, his Spidey sense keeping him from bumping into anyone during the bustle on Manhattan's sidewalks.
Despite being late, there is the hint of a smile tugging Peter's lips upwards as he steps out of the elevator, amused about something Ned had written. Someone clears their throat, and Peter startles at the sound, quickly using his stickiness to catch his phone. The device dangles from the tip of his ring finger while Peter wonders why he has not felt their presence when a pair of familiar black dress shoes comes into view. Realization washes over Peter at their sight, the owner the only other person apart from his aunt, that his spidey sense doesn't go off to.
"Hey, Mr. Stark," greets Peter and puts on a polite smile as he takes in the frown displayed on his mentor's face. Maybe he should have written more than, "Hi, Mr. Stark. I'm going to be late. Happy doesn't have to drive me."
Peter's smile must have looked as forced as it felt by the look Mr. Stark gave him in return. The man stays quiet as Peter walks past him towards the guest room to put his backpack away. Walking into the living room, the teen gets greeted by the rest of the Avengers lingering around. Peter makes a beeline towards the couch where Clint is sitting, hoping to avoid the confrontation with his mentor just a little longer.
"Hey, Pete. How was school?"
"Please don't ask," mumbles Peter, taking a pillow to hug it while he sinks further into the cushions, trying to be one with the furniture. He leans his head back and stares at the ceiling while Clint chuckles next to him. "That bad, huh?" asks the man, and Peter hums. He closes his eyes, relishing that he finally gets to rest when the sound of footsteps grows closer before halting in front of the couch. Peter suppresses a sigh.
"Care to explain why you happen to be late?" Mr. Stark doesn't sound too bothered, which Peter takes as a good sign. He ponders if he liked Mr. Stark better when the man had been more indifferent but quickly pushes that thought into the back of his mind. Mr. Stark is just worried. But still, Peter didn't like the curiosity and concern in the older man's voice, the tone making him feel like a little kid getting scolded. The boy hugs the pillow closer, successfully muffling his voice by pressing it against his face. He really wasn't in the mood for this kind of conversation. Pushing his face deeper into the pillow, he grumbles, "I had detention."
"What was that? I didn't quite catch that, Spiderling."
Peter is pretty sure Mr. Stark did catch that. Something cold presses against his forehead, the only part of his face not hidden behind the pillow. Peter peeks from under it up to Natasha, who holds a can of Coca-Cola above him, a tiny smile on her lips. She nodded toward Stark with a reassuring smile, and Peter felt a bit better, knowing someone was there to step in if Mr. Stark became too overbearing. Taking the drink from her, the teen sat up properly and put the pillow down, facing his mentor.
"I hung out with Deadpool after school," he deadpanned, his last attempt to stir away from the topic. Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow, sending a side eye at Clint, who dared to snicker at the kid's comment.
"Funny kid, but just to let you know, I have a pretty little monitor in the lab telling me that you haven't left the school building until twenty-five minutes ago. Oh, and I hope for my and your aunt's sanity that you haven't been around Deadpool without at least a ten-mile distance between you two. That man is a nutcase, Peter."
Ignoring the jab at the merc with a mouth and Peter's secret "Thursday is taco-day" partner, he raises an eyebrow. "Should I file a police report for stalking, Mr. Stark?"
"Kid, I don't need two spies and Snowflake around knowing you are deflecting. Now, out with it. Why were you late?"
Peter picked up on the silence around, aware that, by now, everyone in the room and the kitchen were probably listening in. A little embarrassed by the attention, the teen's eyes wander toward his lap, where he absentmindedly fiddles with his web shooters, a sense of shyness overcoming him.
"I had detention," he repeats, a little timid.
The silence only lasts a few seconds.
"Ouch, detention. I knew there had to be something about you, man. No one can be such a goody-two-shoes all the time," teases Sam with a smile, patting Peter's shoulder as he walks past to sit next to Bucky. Peter's lip twitched at the comment, relief flooding him when he looked around and saw no one looking disappointed. Catching Mr. Stark studying him, Peter fumbles with his web shooters again. Although the man didn't seem mad, the way he was looking at him made Peter nervous. Before the teen knew what was happening, he was already throwing a lengthy explanation the man's way, a sudden flood of words hastily chained together to form a somewhat coherent report of what had happened.
"Those meatballs were seriously bad, Mr. Stark. It reminded me of the time you made me try oysters. I'm not sure if I should ever forgive you for that, by the way. That had been kinda traumatic." Peter was painfully aware he was full-on rambling at this point, but Mr. Stark silently listening was unnerving him greatly, so he pushed on, eyes everywhere except Mr. Stark.
"Flash walked up to us and tried picking a fight. I just wanted to go and ignore him, seriously Mr. Stark, I didn't even look at him, but then Ned said something about Flash feeling crappy cause of those meatballs, and it was a joke, but Flash heard it, and he was going to grab Ned by the collar."
Peter goes on, and by the looks Bruce and Rhodey are throwing him, he should probably take a second to breathe before freaking out the adults in the room. But Peter couldn't waste time caring about who he was freaking out because he was going to freak if not managing to make Mr. Stark understand that he didn't get detention on purpose.
"I put myself between them when Flash grabbed me instead when Mrs. Warren came by. She saw us in the hallway and gave us detention."
"Hold on," says Sam, sitting up as he looks at Peter, wearing an incredulous expression. "You've got detention 'cause you avoided your friend getting roughed up by that Flash kid? Is that what I'm getting?"
Before Peter could answer him, Mr. Stark had already his Stark phone out. "I knew that Flash kid meant trouble. That's it. I'm going to get that gremlin expelled."
"Wait, you can't do that, Mr. Stark!"
The man raises an eyebrow, and Peter backpedals quickly. "Okay, you could, but please, you don't have to. He didn't hurt anyone, and it's only detention!"
"He was about to hit your friend, Peter," comments Clint, and Peter did not doubt if Mr. Stark wasn't about to call his school, then the archer would be the one to do it. Clint could get weirdly protective at the most random times.
"He does dumb stuff, yes, but if you expel him, it could get him in serious trouble. I know he has problems at home, and getting expelled isn't the solution." By the pointed look he's receiving from several of the Avengers, Peter had a hunch that his arguments weren't cutting it. He needs to pull out the big guns. The teen leaned forward and looked up to Mr. Stark with the saddest puppy dog eyes he could muster. "Please, Mr. Stark. Don't call the school."
If he hadn't been panicking about Mr. Stark trying to expel his classmate, Peter would have found it funny how quickly the hero calling himself Iron Man crumbled. Tony rolls his eyes with an excessive sigh passing his lips as he pockets his Stark Phone. "Next time that hooligan starts something, I will have him expelled faster than you can say, Mr. Stark, got it?"
Peter grins at his mentor. "Got it, Mr. Stark," he chirps back, leaning back into the couch and feeling content for the first time that day. He catches onto the amused glances the others send him and Mr. Starks way.
"So, how many pizzas should I order?" asks Rhodey, the man successfully breaking the silence. With the promise of Pizza and the knowledge that no one minded him getting detention, Peter takes out his phone to text Ned, the smile from before back on his lips. He looks up, feeling someone looking at him, and meets Bucky's eyes.
"Still can't believe they give you detention without clearing up the situation," says the man, crossing his arms over his chest, a sour expression on his face. Peter was about to tell Bucky that it was alright, honestly touched that the man got bothered on his behalf when Captain America chose that moment to walk in. A groan builds up in his throat as the man settles next to Bucky. Steve's brows are furrowed in concern as he glances around the room, lines on his forehead deepening before his eyes turn to the teen. It takes only a second for Peter to guess that Steve had only picked up the detention part of the conversation.
"You've got detention?"
Steve says it so seriously it makes Peter want to throw the pillow at something. Or someone. Too tired to retell the event, Peter merely shrugs his shoulders. "It wasn't that bad."
He had hoped they would leave it at that, but who was he kidding? He's talking about Steve Rogers, after all. Peter's good mood starts deflating when Steve puts on his disappointed Captain America face.
"You're a good kid, Peter. You shouldn't get in trouble."
The teen's expression turns sour at Steve's comment.
"Steve, leave him alone," begins Bucky, frowning at his friend and leaning forward to intervene when the teen sinks into his seat with a low groan. Tony shoots him a worried glance. "What's wrong, Pete?"
Peter ignores the question in favor of sending Steve a glare. Steve dared to look baffled by the look sent his way. If today hadn't been so bad, Peter wouldn't even consider rolling his eyes at Steve, but now he couldn't be bothered to be polite to Captain Popsicle. "I had to listen to your lectures for sixty minutes today, Steve. Sixty. Minutes. I think I had my fill, so please don't bother starting another lecture about what is right and wrong if you don't even know what happened!"
Mr. Stark looks highly amused, not bothering to stop Peter from throwing his sass at Steve, which the teen usually kept for being alone with him in the lab, not often showing it in front of the rest of the team. Bruce raises an eyebrow, head slightly tilted in question. "Peter, Steve had been here all day while you were in school. When should he have lectured you?"
"He wasn't, but I had to listen to his PSA during detention, and I don't feel like hearing more now," answers the teen with something that might, under some circumstances, resemble a pout. Not that Peter would be pouting in front of the Avengers.
"PSA?" asks Clint while Bucky carries a thoughtful look before glancing at the blond sitting next to him.
"You shot PSAs? They still do these?"
Taking in all the puzzled faces around them, Peter quickly realized something that filled his inside with nothing but delight. It was like someone turned a switch, the not-pout on the teen's face morphing into a grin bright enough to lighten the room while Steve's face darkened with every new question asked, their expression the complete opposite of each other.
"They don't know," whispered Peter under his breath, eyes locked on Steve. He lets out a surprised laugh, a grin wider than ever.
"Oh my god, Steve, they don't know!"
He sits upright, the tiredness completely wiped off him as he beams at the blond, eyes gleaming with mischief rivaling Loki.
"Peter," says Steve slowly, the warning heavy in the undertone of his voice. Said warning meets deaf ears, Peter not even thinking about stopping any time soon. He had felt like crap the whole day. Nothing went his way, and Peter knows that that's not on Steve. But having to listen to Captain America's lecture when he did nothing wrong only for the man himself to assume that he did something the second someone uses the word detention in context with Peter without giving him a chance to explain rubbed him the wrong way. The teen isn't a fan of revenge and retaliation and holding grudges, but today, Peter felt petty. If Steve thought he could spoil the rest of the day after school had been that bad already, then he could buckle up. Peter knows his behavior is childish and petty, traits no one would connect with Spiderman, but the teen isn't Spiderman right now. He is Peter Parker, a feeling wronged fifteen-year-old who holds the perfect blackmail material of the person who wronged him in his young, inhumanly sticky hands.
"So," begins Peter in the most serious voice he could muster, giving it his best Captain America impersonation. The way Steve's expression contorted into a grimace was worth it. "you got detention."
"I give you one chance to stop, Peter," warned Steve, eyes narrowed dangerously. Peter only grins wider at that, having way too much fun rilling the blond up while the others could only share confused glances.
"Something tells me this goes over my head," stage whispers Clint.
"Doesn't everything?" shoots Sam at him simultaneously as Tony throws a, "Nothing new, then."
"Harsh," says Clint, rubbing his chest in mock hurt, causing the others to chuckle. "But back to Spider-kid and Cap, does anyone know what those two are on about?"
Choruses of no clue and a beat from Rhodey are all he gets before all eyes are on the pair, who are now challenging in a silent stare-off. Peter leaned forward, openly enjoying teasing the older man. Steve is ready to jump at him by the looks of it, but Peter isn't intimidated in the slightest, knowing he could outrun the older man. "You screwed up. You know what you did was wrong. The question is, how are you gonna make things right?"
Peter's grin widens at the same time Steve narrows his eyes.
"Last warning, Pete."
The blond raises his eyebrows, caught off guard when the teen leans back into his seat. He watches with surprise how Peter fishes his phone out of his pocket, taking a short glance at it before calmly placing it on the coffee table.
"Okay, I'll stop here," says Peter mercifully, stretching as he stands up and walks towards the kitchen. The blond's eyes follow the teen's movement, and Sam snickers how his friend's body deflates at the tension vacating his shoulders, amused by the power a teenager holds over Steve's head.
"Oh, by the way, Steve," Steve's heads shoot up at the tone in Peter's voice. He locks eyes with the teen, who wears the cheekiest grin any of the Avengers ever had seen him carry as he beams at the man.
"Maybe you were trying to be cool. But take it from a guy who's been frozen for 65 years... The only way to be cool is to follow the rules."
Peter's grin was about to reach his eyes. He couldn't help himself.
"Are you following the rules, Steve?"
In hindsight, Peter should have anticipated that the super soldier wouldn't let go of it without some retaliation. It had been too much fun to watch the man's patience thinning than to think what the outcome of that scenario would mean for Peter. He ducks at the same time his Spidey sense peaks, blocking the pillow flung at him just in time. The low buzz had begun to surr in his ear since he started teasing Steve and was growing into a shrill ringing when the man got up from his seat incredibly fast. Peter turns around while stepping out of reach, avoiding the hands reaching for him by vaulting over the couch, including Clint.
"Hey, no jumping over my furniture!" scolds Mr. Stark, but the crinkling of skin around his eyes betrays the stern act as he watches his mentee chased by Cap, wearing a grin on his face.
"Sorry, Mr. Stark!"
The sincerity of the apology suffers under the smile lying in his voice.
Peter stands still, eyes not leaving Steve, who hovers on the other side of the couch, waiting for him to move. Despite focusing on the blond, Peter catches onto the excitement in the room, their little chase entertaining the others immensely, followed by the cheering they receive from the rest. The whole situation was so silly. Peter couldn't help but laugh when he feinted a step to the side, causing Steve to flinch as the man was ready to pounce but narrowing his eyes as he caught on Peter trying to fool him. He couldn't wait to tell Ned that he had teased Captain America, the thought alone bringing a grin about to split his face.
The excitement in the room only increases, so much that Peter doesn't notice the new presence of a person before nearly bumping into them. Thanks to his sixth sense, he barely keeps from barreling into Mrs. Potts. He comes to an abrupt halt despite wearing socks, only possible thanks to his stickiness. Pepper holds a hand over her heart, the surprise written all over her face when Steve takes the chance of Peter not paying attention. The last thing Peter catches is Pepper's green eyes widening, her mouth forming a silent o before something slams into him at full speed, turning the world upside down.
"Whoa, careful Steve. I don't want squished spiders on my clothes."
Clint scowls playfully at the blond, who ignores him in favor of wrestling with a laughing teen on the couch. The archer rolls his eyes at being ignored and points his thumb at the pair.
"Children. It's like herding cats." He snorts at the sight of Peter with his back pressed into the couch, one foot pressed against the super soldier's chest, and pushing the 240-pound weight off of him without much difficulty. "So, your body is changing," begins Peter, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face despite Steve looming above him, looking ready to throw him out of the next window. The blond reaches out to cover Peter's mouth to block more parts of his most embarrassing PSA coming out of the teen, the panic in his eyes causing Peter to break out into laughter. Steve narrows his eyes at the laughing teen, who half-heartedly shoves him off of him.
"Can someone please tell me what is going on here?"
Peter perks up at Mrs. Pott's question, glancing at Steve with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh, I was just about to tell the rest about Mr. Roger's PSAs, Mrs. Potts," he chirps, ever so helpful. He was about to elaborate when Steve finally managed to clap his hand over Peter's mouth, successfully shutting him up.
"Noo, why did you turn him off?" complains Sam with faked disappointment. "It was just about to get interesting."
"Since when do you believe anything Peter tells you?" counters Steve, struggling to hold the teen down and keep him from spilling another word. Despite Peter's small size, the teen was powerful. Steve needed to trap him in a hold, somewhat resembling an uncomfortable back hug, to keep a hand over his mouth, but the teen with his freaky flexibility didn't even seem too bothered.
"Well, the kid can be very persuasive. And he did sound like he had something important to tell us. Isn't that right, Peter?"
Peter nods vigorously despite the hand still covering his mouth. They watch the teen worming an arm out of Steve's bear hug, tugging on the hand that kept him from talking. Sam grinned as he observed Steve's face fall at the ease Peter pulled his hand away. The older man tried reclaiming the position, but the teen had it in a tight hold, successfully keeping him from putting his hand back on his mouth. Peter grabs Steve's other wrist and pushes the man's arms away, wriggling out of the hold. A bright grin adorns the teen's face as he pushes Steve away, who is back on his heels in a second. Peter jumped off the couch as a hand seized his leg, causing him to fall over. Several surprised gasps could be heard, along with a rather colorful curse directed at Steve from Tony as Peter catches himself, keeping from faceplanting into Mr. Stark's pristine white living room floor. In contrast to the glares Steve receives at the rash action, Peter openly cackles as Steve tries pulling him back by his leg.
"There is a perfectly equipped gym two floors down, and they decide to do this here?"
"Don't be harsh on them, Tony. They seem to be having fun," appeases Pepper, surprisingly one of the few people along with Bucky and Natasha who weren't shocked by seeing Peter fall.
"Where does that look like having fun?" He asks, but one look at his mentee's face tells him his fiance was right. The kid is enjoying himself.
Meanwhile, Peter plants his palms on the floor, his upper body hanging off the couch. He sticks onto the tiles, sticking one hand down at a time, and crawls away while Steve still holds onto one of his legs. He keeps moving forward, laughing at the strained huff Steve lets out as he avoids Peter's free foot from kicking him in the stomach. The super soldier bats the flailing limp away, shortly loosening his hold on the teen's leg, which the latter quickly uses as a chance to create some leeway.
He doesn't get very far.
"No!" shouts Peter as a hand wraps around his ankle and pulls him back half a meter. "Sam! Bucky! Help!" pleads the teen half-heartedly, reaching out for the two men sitting on the opposite couch.
"What do you say, Buck? Do we help the munchkin?"
"I know Steve long enough not to interfere when he gets like that. Punk is a mad dog when he throws a fit. Sorry, kid, you're on your own."
Peter is about to give the men a piece of his mind when he gets pulled another good amount of inches back before he gets back to stick on the floor. He crawls away again, but Steve has none of it and reaches for the teen's other ankle. Thanks to his spidey sense, Peter avoids the grip by turning on his side, but it causes him to roll further towards the couch than away from it. Steve quickly takes the opportunity to reach down and hook his hand under the teen's side, attempting to heave Peter off the ground. The teen twists in his hold, and Steve curls his fingers into Peter to keep a hold of him when an honest-to-good squeal escapes the teen.
An eerie silence hangs over the room, no one daring to speak as Steve stares at the frozen teen in his hold who avoids meeting his face as best as he can, but he catches onto the reddened tips of his ears. Steve's lip twitched knowingly. He knows that kind of reaction. He squeezes his hand abruptly, lips forming into a grin as the body on the floor jumps like a fish on land at the action.
"Oho," says Clint, sounding way too gleeful, the first to break the silence, having watched the silent realization come over Steve with amusement.
"What a way to reveal your secret, kid. At least I won't have to keep this to myself anymore," comments Tony with a grin.
Now was Steve's turn, carrying a mischievous grin.
"A secret? What kind of secret could that be, Peter? You like sharing information. How about you enlighten us about this, huh?"
Peter feels his heart jump at the tone in Steve's voice. He kind of regrets having made fun of the man. Peter begins crawling again, but this time with more vigor than before. He doesn't get very far as Steve instantly pulls him back but meets resistance as the teen sticks to the ground. The problem resolves itself quickly as Steve releases one of Peter's legs to reach forward and claw at the teen's ribs. With a shriek, Peter's left hand unsticks, arm shooting down to protect his side. Steve's hand darts to the teen's other side, repeating the procedure and efficiently getting the teen off the ground. From there on, it was easy to throw the already laughing boy back onto the couch.
Never one to back down quickly, Peter instantly tries climbing over the couch, but an arm sneaks around his middle and prevents him from escaping. He tries reaching for the backrest, but a hand worms its way into his underarm, and every attempt to reach his arm out to grasp something becomes futile. He quickly gets pushed down, back pressed into the couch cushion as Steve looms over him for a second time that day, but this time, Peter could crawl out of his skin at the grin on the older man's face.
"Dohon't do this," says Peter, voice void of any conviction as nervous giggles accompany his words. Not knowing what to do with his hands, the teen awkwardly holds them in front of him, half shielding his upper body and half waiting to catch any hands that were about to attack. Steve watches with growing amusement how the boy's eyes jump from his face to his hands and back as if he were unsure what was more important to keep track of. He had never seen such an amount of nervous energy radiating from the teen. It was adorable to see him this unnerved about something harmless as this.
"This? What do you mean, Peter? Is this about the secret Tony mentioned?"
"I don't know what you are talking about. I don't have any secrets. Apart from being Spiderman, I mean," Peter stumbles over his words, lips twitching upwards when Steve raises an eyebrow at him. "No secrets to share, no information to keep. I have nothing to hide, so you can let me go. Please?"
Steve turns towards Clint, who hasn't moved an inch, even with the literal wrestling match happening on the seats next to him. "What do you say, Clint? Does he tell the truth?"
Peter throws a pleading look towards the archer. Clint grins at the pair.
"You see that face," he asks, pointing at the teen. "As a spy and a father, I can tell you that's the face of a liar."
"That's not true!" protests Peter as Steve turns back to him. Catching onto the look the man bestows on him, Peter snatches the next best thing he can get his hands on, a decorative pillow, and uses it to shield himself, a giant grin about to split his face. Steve cracks his knuckles.
"Seems like I have to get the truth out of you."
"Noho!" shouts Peter with a laugh as Steve pulls at the pillow. Nervous giggles are pouring out of him as he tries to make himself as small as possible, and it is faint, but Steve's enhanced hearing could pick up on the wild pace of the kid's heart beating.
"Let go of the shield, Spiderman," commands Steve, eyes gleaming playfully at the boy.
"In your dreams," says Peter, only fastening his hold onto the pillow, the only thing keeping him safe from the fingers getting closer. Steve catches a movement out of the corner of his eyes, lips twitching ever so slightly. He focuses back on Peter, the boy watching him with his whole attention, unaware of the hands reaching for his feet. A shriek escapes the vigilante, eyes widening at the feel of blunt nails running over his socked soles, causing him to flinch and pull his legs up at the ticklish feeling. Steve uses the moment of surprise to tear the pillow out of Peter's hand, depriving him of the last thing to shield himself from his attack.
"Thanks, Clint."
"No problem, Cap."
Peter sends a glare Clint's way, but the archer only needs to reach for his feet for the teen to let the glare turn into a panicked grin, quickly tucking his legs close. "That's what I thought," says Clint with a smug grin. Steve uses the moment of inattention, poking the teen's stomach in quick succession. The reaction didn't disappoint.
"Hey! Stohop it!"
Peter tries glaring at the blond while his hand fails to catch the poking fingers, jumping when one poke lands dangerously close to his lower rip. The motion doesn't go unnoticed by the soldiers' trained eyes, a sly smirk forming on the man's face. "Why? Does it bother you?"
"Yehehehes! Stahahap pokehihing me!" complains Peter, but it was hard to take the teen seriously with the constant giggling. Steve does stop at that.
"Alright, I'll stop. Would you prefer this instead?"
He skitters his fingers over the teen's stomach, grinning at the squeal escaping Peter before he tries curling on himself, hysterical giggles pouring out of him, unaware that the sound causes amused smiles to appear on every face in the room.
"Nahaha, gehehet your hahahands of mehehe," Peter manages to bring out between his laughter as he twists on his side, addressing the others.
"Sohohomebody hehelp!"
"Anyone here knows who that somebody is he's talking about?" asks Sam, feigning ignorance.
"I hahahete you, Bihihirdman 2!"
"Yeah, I can't take anything you say seriously giggle-bug."
Peter is about to counter, but a set of fingers dug into the part where his ribs and upper back meet, sending a ticklish shock throughout his body. He jumps at the touch, and Steve latches onto the reaction, taking both hands to claw at his ribcage and digging his fingers in on the search for that spot. Peter's giggles had long ago turned into bright laughter, now accompanied by an occasional shriek and a whole-body jump as Steve found what he'd been searching for.
"Oh, what's this?" he asks, voice full of glee.
"NOHOHOTHING, IT'S NOTHINIHIN!"
"Something tells me you're onto something, Cap," comments Rhodey with a grin, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, amusement written all over his face.
Peter shakes his head at the words, chanting "Stopstopstopstohohooop," while trying to catch the hands that are way too skillful in sending ticklish sparks under his skin, leaving him in stitches. "Why? Is this the spot I have to go to to get you to tell me about your secret? Although I think I can already guess what it is."
Steve grins down at Peter who tries so hard to scowl at him but fails miserably. It leaves the man wondering where all the strength has gone, and while the idea of tickling being Spiderman's big-bad weakness sounds fun, Steve knows for the better that this couldn't be the reason for the teen's failure to escape.
"OH MY GOHOHOHOD, NOHOHO!" Peter kicks his legs, wriggling from side to side and throwing his head back when Steve finds a way to slip his hands into his underarms. He presses his arms down, quickly rendering Steve's fingers immobile, but the feeling of them simply touching his armpits tickled like mad.
"Peter, I kinda need my hands back, or we're stuck here until tomorrow," teases Steve, amused when the boy shakes his head with a giant grin.
"Buck, a little help here?"
The other man huffs a small laugh. "You're seriously stuck?"
Steve grins at him. "I can't move a single finger."
With a shake of his head, Bucky makes his way over to the couch. He assesses the situation before glancing at Peter, the latter trying to catch his breath. Without a word, Bucky clasps both hands on Peter's thighs just over the kneecap, squeezing and massaging his thumb into the muscle. Peter kicked like mad at the action, breaking into loud belly laughter, and Steve could pull his hands away as the teen was busy twisting and wriggling, trying anything to get Bucky's hands off his knees.
"How did you know that would work?" asks Sam, impressed, as Bucky walks back to sit on the couch as if nothing had happened. Bucky shrugs. "It works on Steve," he answers cooly, but with a smirk playing on his face. Steve glares at him but quickly focuses on Peter, who uses the moment to try crawling in the other direction of the couch. Clint only watches with amusement as he has a lap full of enhanced teen trying to crawl over him as if that was your normal Monday afternoon thing, only to get caught by the shoulder and get dragged back.
"We're not done yet, Queens."
"Steheheheve, pleaahahse. I cahanah't tahahake anymhohore!" whines Peter, but Steve catches onto the playful spark glinting in his eyes.
"Okay, I'll stop here," says Steve, mimicking Peter. "But there's one thing I'll have to tell you." The teen narrows his eyes at the blond, not trusting one word coming from Steve.
"What I tell you now is about one of the most valuable traits a student or soldier can have."
Peter's eyes widen comically. As soon as his brain registers the words, he gracelessly flails in his place. The teen tries to throw himself off the couch as he knows where this is going, but Steve, having anticipated the action, jumps forward and catches the teen around the waist. He keeps his arm wrapped around Peter's middle, hugging the teen against his chest and kneading his free hand into Peter's side without further ado.
"Nohohohot anohohother one! Steve pleahahahase! Dohohohon't do thihihhis! I-I'll goho insahahane!"
Steve keeps a stoic face despite the madly giggling and protesting fifteen-year-old half-sitting squirming in his lap, batting and pulling on the arm holding him in place. He continues his speech with his Captain America voice, causing several eyebrows to raise in amusement.
"Patience." he begins, while his hand slips under the teen's shirt, skittering his fingers over bare skin, "Sometimes, patience is the key to victory."
Peter doesn't know if it's the teasing or the fact that Steve keeps dragging his fingers over the bare skin of his sides, but he can't help kicking his legs into the air and throwing his head back into Steve's shoulder as his whole body shakes under the force of him laughing. Steve takes advantage of Peter's head being this close as he speaks the following words right into his ear, earning him the cutest giggle he had ever heard as the teen desperately tries to scrunch his shoulder up and shield his ear from the tickly air. "Sometimes, it leads to very little, and it seems like it's not worth it, and you wonder why you waited so long for something so disappointing."
At his last word, Steve changes his tactics and uses his free hand to poke every place he can find that Peter isn't poorly trying to protect. The boy can't do anything in his hold but giggle his head off, and Steve wonders once again why Peter doesn't escape since he certainly could until he realizes that, maybe, Peter doesn't want to escape. The thought sparks his interest, and he might as well test that theory while the opportunity's still there.
"STEHEHEHEHEHEVE! NO! Anywhere but there! Please please please, please not thihihis it's so bad. Seriously, dohon't do it! STEHEVE NOHOHO, WHY AREN'T YOHUHU LISTENIHIHIHN! AHAHAHAH NO STAHAHAHAP!"
Peter trashes in his hold as the super solider gets another chance to dig into that sweet spot between his back and rips, sending the kid into a laughing fit, face reddening as he squeezes his eyes shut, the corner wettening with tears of joy before his laughter turns silent.
"Steve, I'll think he got the message," interrupts Tony, having caught onto the change from silent laughter to coming out a tad bit breathless. Not wanting to overdo it, the blond stops the tickling but keeps his arm around the teen, afraid Peter will fall if he lets go of him. The boy hangs slack in his hold, trying to catch his breath.
"You good, Queens?" asks Steve, a little worried he might have overdone it as he carefully loosens his hold on Peter. The latter let himself slip to the side, landing with a groan on the couch. Feeling Steve's eyes on him, Peter turns his head but keeps lying on his side. He sends the man a tired grin.
"I think now I know the true meaning of patience. And ruthlessness."
With a smile, Steve reaches over and ruffles Peter's already messed-up hair.
"You need another lecture, and you know where to find me," he jokes, smirking at the dramatic groans it earns him.
"Yeah, no, I think I pass. You know what I would rather listen to?"
Steve raises an eyebrow in question.
Peter grins at him.
"Some Captain America PSAs."
#ticklish! peter parker#ticklish spiderman#lee peter parker#ler steve rogers#marvel tickle fic#peter parker#spiderman#captain america#steve rogers
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Hello :D
How are you doing?
Your writings are just amazing!
May I please request a part two on how to win the girl? (If it's okay with you)
Thank you and have a great day/noon/night <3
A/N: omg i've had an unfinished part two sitting in my drafts for soooo long, thank you for giving me a lil reminder to actually finish it loool. it's rly short but i hope you enjoy!! <3
How to Win the Girl Pt. 2
Ominis x f!MC - NSFW/Fluff - 1.8k words - ao3
Part 1
Tags: Pining, First Date, Fluff, MC is Bad at Feelings, Ominis is a Romantic Little Shit, Pureblood Courting Rituals, Period Inaccurate Flirting
Summary: Following their tryst in an empty classroom, Ominis decides to make crystal clear his true intentions with MC.
“Ominis, you cheeky bastard — flaunting around your spoils of battle, huh?”
Ominis didn’t pause to indulge any of Sebastian’s teasing, though he couldn’t deny the immense satisfaction he felt deep down in being able to show her off as he carried her through the castle.
“Don’t be so chauvinist, Sebastian,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a smirk.
Sebastian called out another sly retort that fell on deaf ears as Ominis continued down the hall, veering off towards one of the adjacent hallways that provided a shortcut for where he was taking her.
“Dragging me off to another abandoned classroom?” she asked, cheek pillowed on his shoulder. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Ominis.”
“Shush,” he chastised. “We’re almost there."
“You can put me down now, you know,” she said as he turned the corner on another empty corridor. “I think you’ve long accomplished your goal of publicly staking a claim on me.”
He grinned, the arm he had braced under her thigh only tightening. “Who said that’s my only goal? Maybe I just like you in my arms.”
Stubborn as ever, Ominis only set her down when they finally reached their destination, pausing at the bottom of the Astronomy tower’s winding staircase.
They laced their fingers together as they began their ascent up towards the uppermost platform, and though they’d held hands countless times before, it felt so terribly different this time. Intimate, yet strangely unfamiliar. There was a novelty to it, and it was almost like she was a fifth-year again, still fighting the nerves she got in her stomach everytime they interacted.
When they reached the top platform, she stilled completely at the sight before her.
Pillows and blankets were arranged around the middle of the room in such an inviting display she wouldn’t have minded spending the night there. There were little glowing candles charmed to float around the room, complimenting the dim orange light cast over the space from dusk bleeding into evening outside.
Her voice was uncharacteristically dazed when she finally spoke. “This is…this is really nice, Ominis.”
“Oh thank Merlin,” he sighed, letting out the breath he’d been holding in. “I was nervous it wouldn’t be the way I’d left it.”
She swallowed to clear the strange tightness that found itself in her throat, hoping her voice wouldn’t reveal just how moved she actually was by such a stark show of effort that he had put in for her. Somehow, the fact was just as thrilling as it was terrifying.
“Been planning this for a while, have you?” she laughed in a show of feigned nonchalance, following him further into the room. “Were you that confident you would beat me?”
“A lot longer than I’d care to admit,” he muttered, sheepish. “And like I said, I was confident my motivations were certainly stronger.”
She paused for a moment, her head tilting as she observed him. “You really do like me, don’t you?”
He shook his head, huffing out an amused laugh. “Did you only just now piece that together? And here I thought I was being rather forward.”
She couldn’t help but smile so hard her cheeks hurt, Ominis barely repressing his own grin when she laced her fingers with his and pulled him down to sit on the pillows he had arranged on the floor.
She kissed him then, slow and tender, as if in gratitude, as if she could pour every bit of emotion he made her feel into the kiss without being forced to say the words. It was almost too much, evidently even for him, and he inhaled sharply when she braced her hand on his thigh to lean closer.
He broke away then and she grinned, quirking a brow. “Don’t tell me you’re going coy on me now.”
“Never,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “But it’s not what I brought you up here for. I’ve already lost control of myself once, I’m not going to get ahead of myself a second time. I…want to do things right with you.”
“The world’s last standing romantic,” she teased, earning an eye roll from Ominis. “I have to admit, I’m disappointed you’ve become so righteous. I wouldn’t have minded getting shagged within an inch of my life again.”
Ominis’ features darkened at her words for a brief moment, but he shook his head, as if willing any imprudent thoughts away.
“Don’t tempt me, witch. I’m trying to be sweet for you,” he heaved a groan, running a hand down his face. “Also, I think Professor Onai would notice if I did what I really wanted to do to you on top of her pillows.”
“Good point,” she snorted. “Maybe she’s having a premonition about it now.”
“Well, I guess I can’t really be blamed then, can I?” he murmured as he suddenly leaned over her, pushing her down on the pillows so he could crowd her against the floor. “The threads of fate have willed it.”
She laughed, her giggles morphing into contented sighs as he peppered kisses along her jaw. She keened from the contact, squirming underneath him as she tilted her head back to give him better access, his lips dragging down the column of her throat. He gave a lingering open-mouthed kiss to her collarbone before he pulled away, smiling at the soft whine she gave his absence.
“I have something for you."
“If it’s anything other than what’s currently poking my stomach,” she said, squirming against him in demonstration of the stiffness she felt hidden behind his trousers. “I don’t want it.”
“Circe, you’re more insatiable than me,” he sighed, voice having grown strained. He reluctantly detached himself from her, sitting up. “You’re going to be the end of me.”
“Revenge for beating me so cruelly,” she smiled. “I’m a sore loser.”
“Keep provoking me and you’ll be sore, alright,” he murmured, pulling away to rummage through the shoulder bag he had brought with them.
She sat up on her elbows to watch him, tempted to instigate him even more. He granted her no chance to, however, as she was suddenly too preoccupied with the way her heart stuttered a few beats in her chest when he finally turned towards her again.
There was a small, dark velvet box in his hand. She stiffened immediately. As if sensing her unease, he cleared his throat, making some attempt at lightness.
“Don’t tell me you’re going coy on me now.”
She swallowed, sitting up. “Whatever it is, I won’t accept it.”
“Stop that,” he sighed. “You haven’t even seen it.”
“But I know what it means.”
“So what? You’re not a pureblood, it won’t matter to you.”
“But you are,” she murmured, voice suddenly tense. “I know what you’re doing, Ominis. This is the equivalent of a—”
“I know what it is,” he said, decidedly firm, as if this was something he’d spent a great deal of time considering. As if he couldn’t be talked out of it, especially not now.
She stared at the box in his hands for a long moment as if it was a grenade, and then at him, like he’d just bitten free the pin and was holding it between his teeth.
“I don’t understand.”
He quirked a brow. “Have I been vague about my intentions with you? I could’ve sworn I’d been very clear.”
“There might’ve been some blurred lines here and there,” she murmured, sheepish.
He deadpanned. “Then let me make this excruciatingly explicit—”
“Ominis…” she began, but he quieted her with a raised hand, as if already expecting her refusal.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything to you, I’m alright with that. Just accept it as a gift—”
“A courtship gift, you mean.”
“A gift,” he insisted, inching closer to present her with the box.
Despite his level-headed tone, his fingers trembled slightly when he opened it, revealing a delicately-wrought ouroboros in the form of a ring. A snake swallowing its own tail. An emblem of wholeness, of infinity, of…forever.
She swallowed hard and stared at the glittering silver for a long moment.
“Please,” he added in a whisper, almost inaudible.
She tore her eyes away from the ring to glance up at him, taken aback by the stark vulnerability she found so open-faced. She realized then just what he was doing for her. Flaying himself open, letting himself be exposed.
“People will think we’re engaged,” she murmured, taking the box in his hands despite herself. His shoulders immediately sunk, the tension stringing them up dissipating from his muscles.
“Would that really be so bad?”
She raised her brows at him and he smirked. “Only teasing you.”
She looked unconvinced. “Are you?”
“Yes,” he insisted, rolling his eyes. “I just…want you to know I’m serious about you. We’ll take this at your pace.”
“A heartfelt letter would have sufficed,” she said, holding her hand up to the dim light of the surrounding candles to examine the ring on her finger. “Christ, how old is this thing?”
She felt an array of mixed emotions about how nicely it looked on her, like its place was always meant to be there. Her nerves manifested in her fidgeting, twisting the ring around her finger until Ominis finally stilled her with his own.
“I’m not very good with words,” he said, bringing her hand towards his lips to place a lingering kiss to her knuckles. He ran his thumb over the ring, almost in awe at it being there, surreality shining in his eyes. “And it’s a couple centuries, give or take.”
She whistled, staring at the heirloom with widened eyes. “You realize a couple dozen of your ancestors are rolling in their graves at the moment, right?”
He shrugged, starkly unbothered. “Salazar Slytherin himself could manifest and bid against it and the ring would still only ever be yours.”
She stared at him for a long moment, narrowing her eyes. “God, fuck you.”
He sputtered, choking out a laugh. “What?”
“You really are the world’s last standing romantic,” she muttered, swatting at him when his lips pulled into a prideful grin. “I hope this is the full extent of any pureblood courting rituals you plan to enact with me.”
“You wound me,” he frowned. “And here I thought you would be positively thrilled about all the chaperoned strolls around the Manor I had planned for us.”
She laughed. “Only if the chaperoned strolls involve an unchaperoned detour towards some lonely corner where you can fuck my brains out.”
“You are incorrigible,” he tsked, feigning great offense, even as he pushed her down and towered over her again. “What am I ever going to do with you?”
“I have a few ideas,” she smirked and he shook his head, brushing his lips against hers.
“Trust me, I’ve endured enough years of pining to conjure up plenty of my own.”
#hogwarts legacy#ominis gaunt#sebastian sallow#ominis gaunt x reader#ominis x mc#hogwarts legacy imagine#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#ominis gaunt fanfiction#ominis gaunt x mc#hogwarts legacy ominis#ominis x you#ominis x reader#ominis x oc#fanfiction#ao3 writer#ao3 fanfic#fluff
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most people
Tony Stark x F!Reader
Prompt: “i can't believe you don't like hugs."
Summary: you come home to the tower to hear that your teammate tony has been awake for days. you take it upon yourself to get to complete some much-needed self-care.
Warnings: fluff.
Word Count: 1,741
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The door sounded with a quiet, welcoming ding as the elevator arrived on your floor, the lights of your suite already on and pleasantly dimmed to accommodate to the tenderness of your eyes this late at night. It was a little before three in the morning, and while your flight had had no major issues and the traffic between the airport and Avengers Tower had been blessedly in your favor, it was still agonizing to be getting home so late.
Home.
It still surprised you how quickly you’d come to think of this place as more than just a place to sleep, more than what had originally felt like a ridiculously over-sized hotel room. It had been only six months since Loki’s attack on New York, and while the renovations to the Tower were not yet finished, your suite had been one of the first floors to be completed. And now it somehow felt far more familiar to you than any of the countless beds you had claimed over the last twenty-seven years.
“Welcome back, Ms. Y/L/N,” the cool, friendly voice of Tony’s personal assistant sounded from the invisible speakers above you. “I trust your journey was pleasant.”
“It was, for a nine-hour flight in a broken seat,” you replied with a sigh, stretching out the lingering kink in your lower back. You set your suitcase down by the elevator doors. “And how many times do I have to tell you; it’s just Y/N.”
“I’m sure only once more,” he replied. “As always.”
You chuckled, a small, tired smile lingering on your lips. “Are the others here?”
“Only Mr. Stark is in residence at the moment,” the A.I. informed you as you made your way further into your suite. You toed off your shoes, shedding your jacket and tossing it onto the nearby sofa. “Shall I inform him of your arrival?”
“Oh, no, I don’t want to wake him.”
There was a slight pause. “Mr. Stark is not asleep, Ms. Y/L/N.”
How an A.I. could have a variation in tone, you weren’t sure, but you stopped halfway to unbuttoning your jeans. “And how long exactly has Tony been awake?”
“…Almost eighty-three hours, ma’am.”
“I think I hate ‘ma’am’ even more than my last name.” you sighed, casting a glance towards the room to your left. The door was ajar, and you swore your bed was calling to you. “Where is he?”
“In the lab.”
“…Okay.”
***
A wall of sound greeted you as you stepped into the lab, and you flinched. It lowered immediately to a more bearable level, and you silently praised whatever part of JARVIS’ programming it was that could pick up on your discomfort like that.
“JARVIS,” Tony said without looking up from his work. “Don’t mess with my music.”
He was at the far end of the lab, moving between a couple of workbenches and the hologram of his latest designs with the disorganized, staccato rhythm you had begun to recognize as being a sign of sleep deprivation. There was a half-empty coffee pot on the bench closest to you, the scent of it gone stale. Tony’s clothes were rumpled, as was his hair, and you frowned when you noticed the shadows under his eyes. They were made darker by the blue light of the hologram between the two of you.
“I think we can do better on these reflector panels, J.,” he continued as though he hadn’t noticed you enter. “If this suit is going to work for stealth, I’m going to need the change to be instantaneous.” He waved a hand, and parts of the suit projected in front of him dropped away. “Scrap ‘em. Take it from the top.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hello to you, too, Stark.” you said snidely despite your concern. “Or am I expected to call you ‘sir’ in here, too?”
“Only if you want me to get all tingly over it,” he retorted teasingly, finally pausing long enough to meet your eye. He gave you a genuine, if distracted and exhausted, smile.
“Most people just say ‘welcome home’.”
Tony returned to one of the benches, eyes fixating on a tablet screen. “Are you implying that I could possibly be ‘most people’?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, sidestepping an abandoned helmet prototype. There was an empty coffee mug sitting inside it. The crockery was stained with dark brown rings. You made you way around to his workbench, pushing yourself up to sit on the edge of it beside him. “Tony, when was the last time you got some sleep?”
“You know the answer to that,” he said, pointedly avoiding your eye and focusing his gaze on the work in front of him. “Or did you come all the way down here just for a hug?”
“A hug? Hardly,” you said with a scoff.
Tony met your eye, raising a brow. There was a teasing tilt to his lips, a challenge in his expression. “I don’t accept that.”
“Accept what?”
“I can’t believe that you don’t like hugs.” he said, straightening. He moved to stand in front of you, his hands claiming your knees. You felt a warmth spread up from where he touched you to heat your belly, and you straightened slightly, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue. “I refuse to accept it. I mean, for a woman completely capable of breaking every bone in my body with her bare hands, you’re downright cuddly.”
As he said the last words he reached up and touched the tip of his finger to your nose tauntingly, and you wrinkled it in response. He chuckled, and you rolled your eyes at him. Something about sleep deprivation always made him lighter, more teasing. While his usual jokes were witty and occasionally flirty, when you found him like this, he was… softer. “Has anyone ever told you that you are a massive dork?”
Tony’s grin widened, and he stepped back, holding up his hands as though you’d just proved his point. “See, anyone else would call me an asshole, but you – sweet, innocent thing that you are – go with ‘dork’.”
“Oh, Stark. Trust me,” you snickered, pushing yourself up off the edge of the table. It closed much of the distance between the two of you, your chest almost meeting his. You made a show of casting your eyes down over him before meeting his eye with a smirk. “If you actually knew me, the last word you’d be using to describe me is ‘innocent’.”
Intrigue flashed in his eyes, a curve to his parted lips sending an unexpected thrill up your spine. He made move to speak, but you pressed a finger to his lips. His smile widened against your skin.
“I’m sure whatever you were about to say would have been rife with innuendo, Tony,” you said. “But honestly, you kind of stink. How long’s it been since you had a shower?”
***
“Y’know, I’m not really sure why I had to stick around for this.” you called out over the sound of rushing water, folding your arms over your chest. You were standing outside the penthouse bathroom, your back against the wall beside the door. Steam billowed out of the open doorway, clinging to your bare arms.
The water shut off, and Tony’s reply came a few moments later, his voice echoing off the tile. “And here I thought you were worried about my wellbeing, sweetheart.”
“You’re not exactly at risk of drowning in the shower, Tony,” you pointed out. You heard his answering chuckle and the sounds of cabinet doors opening and closing. There was a long silence, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of shaving cream being sprayed and a razor against skin. “And you survived it. So, can I go to bed now?”
“And miss out on this quality team-bonding time?” he called out. “Shudder to think.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes with a smile. “‘Team-bonding’? We’re missing a couple of key members here. Unless you’ve got Rogers stashed in your shower caddy.”
“Not exactly the member I’d pick for that,” he replied as he stepped through the doorway, wiping at his jaw with a towel. Another was slung securely around his hips. Rivulets of water marked his bare torso, droplets clinging to his chest. There was a teasing smirk on his lips, and you swallowed. “Now, Romanoff on the other hand—”
“I’m going to stop you there before this conversation devolves into casual misogyny,” you eye-rolled, holding up a hand.
“I’ll have you know I’m an equal opportunity lech.” Tony shot back, amused. “I just didn’t think Thor would fit in the caddy.”
You snorted a laugh.
“Right…” you said. He’d missed a tiny patch of shaving cream on the corner of his jaw, and you reached up to wipe it away with two fingers. Tony’s smile widened as you wiped it on his bare chest. You cleared your throat as you realized the intimacy of your actions. “Well, you’ve managed to navigate the perils of a penthouse bathroom, Iron Man. Congrats.”
“So, what’s your excuse now?”
Confusion creased the skin between your brows. “For what?”
Tony’s smirk twitched, and you recognized the challenge in his eyes. Something in the pit of your stomach fluttered. “For turning down a hug.”
You laughed, shaking your head disbelieving. “God, Stark, you are such a—”
Tony took hold of your arm, surprising you by pulling you toward him and bringing his lips to yours. They were soft and warm, teasing with the taste of spearmint. The clean scent of his body wash enveloped you, his fingers gentle but firm on your arm. The warmth of his body – still bolstered by the heat of the shower – leached into your skin, wrapping you in a ghost of an embrace that made you lean into him. The kiss lasted only a moment before he pulled back again, that expression of taunting flirtation still in place.
You pressed your lips together, your skin tingling. “What was that for?”
He shrugged a shoulder, tightening the towel around his waist. There was an annoying note of nonchalance in his expression, and self-assuredness that told you he knew exactly what kind of effect he’d just had on you. “Call it a thank you.”
“I—” you swallowed, forcing your breath to steady. “Most people just say ‘thank you’.”
He grinned, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. “Didn’t we agree that I’m not ‘most people’?”
.
.
.
tags: @trekkingaroundasgard @ccbsrms @lina-mar@lovely-dreamer19@wittyforachange@wefracturedmotivation@january-echoes@glossyloner@capitalnineteen@youclickedthislink@s0ftness@castieltrash1@drakelover78@queenoftheunderdark@fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13@lol-you-thought@sebbystanlover-vk@mikariell95@csigeoblue@abrunettefangirlnerd@babyblues915@aar-journey@moistpotatobear @capsironunderoos @bellamyblakemorley@diesinspanishbcimhispanic@sentimentalalien@agustdowney@akumune@xxboesefrauxx@patheticallysentimental@loki-is-loved
#tony stark#tony stark x reader#tony stark x you#tony stark reader insert#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark fanfic#tony stark imagine#iron man#iron man x you#iron man x reader#tony stark x oc#tony stark x ofc#iron man x oc#iron man x ofc#iron man reader insert#iron man fanfic#iron man fanfiction#iron man imagine#mine: fanfic#marvel#mcu#marvel fanfiction#marvel reader insert#marvel imagine#marvel fanfic#mcu fanfiction#mcu fanfic#mcu reader insert#mcu imagine
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