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[navybrat817-sideblog]

Papercut

Pairing: Clark Kent x Female Reader

Summary: You get a papercut, and Clark wants to kiss it better.

Word Count: 300

Warnings: Established relationship, oral sex (f. receiving), mention of blood, Clark Kent (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Another for day 4 of the Sexy September Scribbles Challenge. Prompt: Let me kiss it better. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Ow! Shit!” 

You dropped the paper with a hiss. Before you could blink, Clark was in front of you, his eyes frantic as he searched for the source of your pain. A tiny drop of blood appeared on your finger and your boyfriend looked at it as if it offended him. He gripped your hand with such tenderness that your throat closed up.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Papercut,” you replied. You could deal with cramps and all sorts of other pain, but papercuts were a special kind of evil and pain. Still, it was nothing. Just a tiny annoyance in the grand scheme of things. “It isn’t a big deal.”

He peered at you over his glasses, not accepting that you were trying to brush it off. “Let me kiss it better,” he whispered, his lips warm against your skin. 

You smiled when he kissed it again. “All better.”

He tilted his head amusingly. “Oh, I’m not done yet.”

You had forgotten all about the pain in your finger once he had you spread out on the bed. He didn’t care that he was on his knees in his suit pants since he was too busy making love to you with his tongue. It was the only way you could describe it when he ate you out. 

“Still not done?” you moaned, lifting your head to look down at him. His lips and chin were wet, his glasses lopsided, and his eyes full of love. 

“I’m kissing every part of you better,” he said, nudging your clit with his nose. “My girl deserves to only feel pleasure. Never pain.”

You arched your back when he spread your legs wider and really opened you up to him. Papercuts were the worst. But the treatment Clark gave you because of them? Otherworldly.

Clark is the best! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

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Kisses

Pairing: Boxer!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You help Bucky relax after training.

Word Count: 300

Warnings: Established relationship, oral sex (m. receiving), implied sex, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Day 4 of the Sexy September Scribbles Challenge. Prompt: Let me kiss it better. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky bit back a groan, his head resting against the cushion. The grueling training took a lot out of him today, and he had been looking forward to doing nothing for the rest of the day. The second you saw him sitting in nothing but a towel after his long shower, you also had some ideas on how to help him relax.

“My poor Bucky. You look worn out. Sore,” you said, dropping to your knees and making his heart race. “Let me kiss it better.”

He chuckled warm and deep, moving the towel to give you access. “Didn’t hurt my cock.”

“Shh.” You leaned up and kissed his lips, smiling when he kissed you back. “Let me kiss it better anyway.”

Who was he to resist?

It didn’t take long for you to stretch your lips around his cock, looking up at him with that sinful stare. The shade of lipstick you wore today was one of his favorites, and he loved when you left little kisses for everyone to see. On his cheek, his neck, his collar. No one would ever see it smeared all over his cock. That was just for you two.

You pulled off with a pop, saliva dripping down your chin. “Starting to feel better?” you asked, your voice hoarse, licking him from base to tip.

“Almost there,” he whispered, guiding you to take him back into your mouth. “I’ll feel much better once I fill each of your holes.”

You moaned and bobbed your head, the vibrations shooting tingles along his spine. He’d fill your throat, then your pussy, then your ass. For someone who didn’t want to do anything for the rest of the day, your kisses sure as hell gave him other ideas.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

I'd worship this man. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

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Partnership

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You need Bucky's help and, well, he needs you.

Word Count: 300

Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving), dirty talk, possessive behavior, power imbalance of sorts, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Day 3 of the Sexy September Scribbles Challenge. Prompt: Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Going to Bucky Barnes for help was difficult and frustrating for you to accept, but you swallowed your pride since you desperately needed public funding for your project. The former Winter Soldier was the key vote, the man who could make your dream a reality or tear it down. It was inevitable that you’d end up in his office.

What you didn’t expect was for Bucky to bend you over his desk and eat you out from behind.

“You always this wet, or is this just for me?” he asked, licking at soft folds and flicking your clit. You were embarassingly wet, practically dripping down your thighs. “Better just be for me.”

His possessiveness surprised you. He hardly knew you, though you always felt his piercing eyes on you the few times you had seen him at events. And what did that say about you, that you let a man you hardly knew spread you out like a feast for him to devour?

“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” he praised, your cheeks hot.

Your hands gripped the desk, your mouth falling open when he pushed his tongue inside. It wasn’t long before he added two fingers, making you moan like a bitch in heat. He was taking you to dizzying heights, and all you could do was go along for the overwhelming ride. 

He took his tongue out long enough to say, “This is my pussy now.”

“It’s yours, Bucky,” you moaned. 

“Congressman,” he corrected you, curling his fingers. 

Your eyes rolled back. “Congressman.”

“You’re going to work for me,” he said, chuckling when you tried to push yourself up. Work for him? “Oh, no. I haven’t finished my meal.”

With his tongue back inside you and his name on yours, this was just the beginning of a new partnership.

Would love to explore more of these two. What do we think? Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

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Beautiful

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky knows you're beautiful. He wants you to know it, too.

Word Count: 300

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), sex in front of a mirror, insecurities, praise, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Day 2 of the Sexy September Scribbles Challenge. Prompt: Don't hide your face. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You were on your stomach, your hips raised as Bucky pushed into you over and over. His mouth and hands moved along your skin like a song, one he knew by heart. Every movement was deliberate, each thrust and touch drawing out your pleasure. Surrendering to him was a beautiful thing, and you wanted to give him all of you. 

But your face went into the sheets before you could stop yourself, your sounds muffled. 

“Don’t hide your face.”

He lifted your chin, his eyes locked with yours in the mirror. He slowed enough to make you push back against him. “Bucky, please,” you begged. 

“You’re beautiful. Every part of you,” he said against your ear, his other hand reaching over to cover yours. “Say it.”

A broken moan escaped. Bucky was beautiful. He had the face of an Adonis and the body like a god of war, his scars telling his story. He made you feel like you were beautiful, but your face when it was twisting in ecstasy? Surely you looked ridiculous. But not to him.

Never to him.

“I’m beautiful,” you said, your voice too soft, too unsure.

“Again,” he ordered, thrusting with purpose, your fingers twisting in the sheets. 

“I’m beautiful,” you said again, a little louder.

His hand went from your chin to your throat, not squeezing. His hold grounded you. “Again, sweetheart. Say it again while I take you apart.”

You whimpered. Only Bucky could break your walls down and help you rebuild. “I’m beautiful… I’m beautiful!” He released your hand and reached beneath you, finding your bundle of nerves with ease. “Yeah, you fucking are.”

You were beautiful when you shattered and cried out his name. You were beautiful when he filled you up. And you were beautiful when you begged for more.

We all deserve this! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

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Sexy September Scribbles Masterlist

Happy September, lovelies! ❤️ Welcome to my Sexy September Scribbles Masterlist, and thanks to @societyfolklore and @soelstress for creating this event. I plan to share various ficlets featuring some of our favorite fictional men throughout the month here and on my sideblog, @navybrat817-sideblog. Please heed the warnings, and enjoy the nonsense! ❤️

Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics.

❤️ - 9/1 - “Slower.”

Inspirational - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Breed - Steve Rogers x Reader

Undress - Clark Kent x Reader

❤️ - 9/2 - “Don’t hide your face.”

Beautiful - Bucky Barnes x Reader

❤️ - 9/3 - “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

Partnership - Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Reader

❤️ - 9/4 - “Let me kiss it better.”

Kisses - Boxer!Bucky Barnes x Reader

❤️ - 9/5 - “Breathe for me, baby.”

Breath - Lee Bodecker x Reader

❤️ - 9/6 - “Can you be good for me?”

Healer - Warlord!Bucky Barnes x Reader

❤️ - 9/7 - “Don’t you dare come until I say so.”

Relief - Mob!Ari Levinson x Reader

Love and thanks for reading! ❤️ And if a particular new story strikes your fancy, come (s)cream and me in my inbox as I'd love to expand on some. 🥰

[navybrat817-sideblog]

Undress

Pairing: Clark Kent x Female Reader

Summary: You put on a little show for Clark.

Word Count: 300

Warnings: Stripping, confident reader, dirty talk, masturbation, mention of oral sex, Clark Kent (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Last one for Day 1 of the Sexy September Scribbles Challenge. Prompt: Slower. Listened to Flesh while writing this.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Confidence was something you never had an issue with. You were comfortable in your skin, accepting your flaws, and embracing the beauty that was your body. You were a goddess in your own right and deserved worship. And Clark, well, no one worshipped you the way the Kryptonian did.

He deserved a show.

Push up to my body, sink your teeth into my fleshGet undressed, t-taste the flesh

“Driving me crazy,” he breathed, his large hand stroking his thick cock as you moved to the music. Your top and pants were on the floor, and that’s where they’d stay. You had no intention of getting dressed again once you let him get his hands on you. “Can smell how wet you are.”

“Oh, you can?” You dipped your hand between your legs, teasing yourself through the fabric. His eyes changed from blue to red in a flash. “Bet you wish I was sitting on your face, fucking myself on your tongue.”

He groaned, swiping his thumb over the tip. Your country boy didn’t swear, but you did. He loved your dirty mouth. 

“I do,” he agreed, his hand moving faster. He had licked his hand before touching himself, but even the hand of a god couldn’t compare to the feel of your tight, wet pussy.

“Slower,” you told him, sliding a hand to your breast. “Don’t want you blowing your load before I bounce on it.”

“I’ll get hard again,” he groaned, but he slowed down because he always listened to you.

“I want you hard all night,” you said, slowly removing your ruined underwear. Picking up the flimsy fabric, you sauntered over and smiled sweetly before you shoved them in his mouth. “And I want your mouth as dirty as mine.”

Yeah, tonight would be lots of fun.

I would ruin him and let him ruin me! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

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Breed

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: You wish you met Steve under different circumstances.

Word Count: 300

Warnings: Dark AU, dubcon/noncon elements, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), forced breeding, angst, captive, mention of Bucky and his own reader, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Still on Day 1 of the Sexy September Scribbles Challenge. Prompt: Slower. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You wished Steve was fucking you because he loved you. Closing your eyes, you imagined meeting him outside of these walls. Maybe he would've bumped into you at an art festival, the tips of his ears turning pink when you smiled at him. Or maybe you would've met at the library, reaching for the same book. 

But fate had other plans. 

“Look at me,” Steve demanded, the sharp drive of his hips making you gasp despite yourself. 

Opening your eyes, you stared up at him and tried not to give anything away. Beneath the ecstasy in his eyes, there was sorrow… an apology. He looked like he wanted to kiss you, to whisper that everything was going to be okay. But he didn't. 

“Slower.”

Your teeth snapped together at the sound of the doctor. Turning your head a fraction, you glared at the double-sided mirror. You and Steve were the stars of this freak show and the cruel doctor was on the other side taking notes. Down the hall, Bucky and his assigned partner had their own viewer. 

If only you could get your hands on your tormentors…

“Why?” Steve gritted, sounding just as angry as you felt.

“Your pace is making her look… detached,” the doctor’s voice rang out. “Go slower. Please her. Bringing her to orgasm should increase the chances of pregnancy.”

It was your turn to look apologetic. You didn't ask to be a breeder for super soldiers, but Steve hadn't wanted to participate either. He was a good man. You were all trapped. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, cupping your cheek. 

I’ll get us out of here. 

It was an unspoken promise between you, and you tentatively brushed your lips together. “So am I,” you whispered back.

You. Steve. Bucky. His girl. You had to escape. 

Somehow. 

Could be interesting to explore more of. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

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Lovelies, I was just chatting a bit with @buck-star about the Sexy September Scribbles. I've finished day 2, 3, and 4, and they are all Bucky. 😂

Anyone else we want to see? 👀❤️

[navybrat817-sideblog]

Inspirational

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are inspirational.

Word Count: 300

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk, surprise guest, voyeurism, exhibitionism, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Happy September! Day 1 of the Sexy September Scribbles Challenge. Prompt: Slower. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You and Bucky having an extended weekend meant taking advantage of the extra time together. What began with tenderness and care shifted to a frenzied kind of fucking. The brutal sound of skin on skin echoed in the room along with your cries. Every inch of his thick cock stretched and filled you, and you knew you’d feel him for days to come. 

“So fucking pretty when you take my cock,” Bucky grunted, lifting your hips so he could drive in deeper. “Gonna make you scream my name. Let everyone know who owns you.”

The obscene squelch from your pussy told him how much you loved that idea. “Bucky!”

“Slower.”

You both paused and snapped your heads toward Steve, his sketchbook in his hand. He looked completely composed as he sat in the chair, the tent in his pants being the only giveaway that he liked what he saw. Neither of you minded when he watched since he thought you two were inspirational. 

“Giving me orders, punk?” Bucky rasped. 

The blonde smirked. “Just think she’ll make more of a mess on your cock if you slow down, jerk. That’s all,” he replied, resuming his sketching. “And I want to make sure I get her breasts right.”

You gasped when Bucky began to thrust again, his movements languid and torturously slow. “He has a point. You do gush when I draw it out,” he said, gripping your jaw when you whined impatiently and tried to buck beneath him. “Be good, or I’ll tie you up.”

“Don't threaten me with a good-”

“And I’ll edge you all night,” he threatened, your eyes wide. 

“Ouch,” Steve muttered sympathetically. 

“Fine,” you sighed, brushing your thumb over his lips. “But I’m riding your face next.”

Bucky and Steve would enjoy it. 

And you’d go slow. 

Yes, this may have been inspired by this. Might have to do a small series. I don't know if I'll be able to do the entire month, but this was fun! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

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Fortunate for Fall

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is fortunate for fall, and for you.

Word Count: Over 1.4k

Warnings: Established relationship, light bondage, fingering, fade to black unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), feels and a bit cheesy (but we love it), fall vibes, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), Bucky's POV.

A/N: Bought some candles today, and the temperature is starting to feel a bit cooler, so I thought of this. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky feels very fortunate when it comes to fall weather, and it’s not just because it’s a time of the year that you enjoy. Don’t get him wrong. He loves how much you love it. It’s beautiful to watch your face light up when the leaves change color. He smiles when you go a little crazy with the decorations, which he encourages. He doesn't mind going on hayrides or through corn mazes with you since it’s so much fun. And he craves the way your lips taste after you have a drink, whether it’s pumpkin spice or sweet cider. 

But one of the things he really feels fortunate about?

Tying you up with the scarf you so lovingly made him last fall.

Bucky smirks while you squirm and lights one the many candles you recently bought after carefully selecting the scent he wanted to hone in on. Some nights it’s pumpkin, rich and flavorful. Other nights it’s apple, a blend of sweet and tart. He even enjoys leaves, making it seem as if you’re under a tree when you’re in your bedroom. Tonight, he picks something with marshmallow and fire, a mix of sweet and smoky that you adore. And it isn’t a secret that he adores you.

“You did a great job with the scarf, sweetheart,” he says proudly. “Has so many uses.”

The flickering flame creates shadows along your face as you watch him, a soft gasp escaping your lips when he secures the scarf just a bit more. His fingers linger on the soft wool, and he smiles to himself, glad that he tied your hands above your head, so he won't miss a single look of pleasure. The binding is more of an embrace than a restraint. You put so much time and care into it, just like you poured yourself into your relationship with him. 

His fingers brush your cheek, his touch gentle when he thought for the longest time that his touch would break you. They slide to your throat and feel your pulse, the frantic rhythm matching the beat of his own heart. “This really might be one of my favorite things about fall since I bring this out when the weather cools down,” he says, replacing his thumb with his lips. Your delicious surrender when you moan is music to his ears. He almost wonders if he should’ve left the window open so you can feel the cool breeze, but feeling you shiver beneath him will be more than enough to satisfy him. “I feel fortunate for fall and you.”

“Bucky,” you moan, slightly impatient. 

“Aww,” he whispers, brushing his hair from his eyes once he lifts his head. “Am I driving you crazy?”

It is a little unfair that he’s still dressed when you’re naked, but he couldn’t resist stripping you down after spending almost all day outside.

“You know you are.”

He watches your chest move, your nipples hard and begging for attention, your eyes filled with anticipation and a hint of annoyance that he’s taking his sweet time. He chuckles soft and low when you narrow those pretty eyes. He feels a deep sense of pride whenever you’re vulnerable and pliant for him. You trust that he’ll take care of you, and he always will.

“Poor thing,” he says almost innocently, his blue eyes in the darkness of the room. “I was just admiring how much you’re like fall.”

You stop squirming. “How am I like fall?” 

“Well, you’re vibrant like the changing leaves. Something beautiful, photogenic, hopeful,” he tells you, his hand moving up your inner thigh with purpose. “You make me feel comfortable and cozy after dealing with the summer heat.”

You whimper when his hand moves higher. “What else?” you whisper.

“You’re open and inviting, like coming home on a chilly night,” he continues, his fingers moving up further until he meets your wet folds. Fuck, you were always ready for him. “Always letting me in, always keeping me warm.” He was home whenever he was with you.

“Always,” you sigh, parting your legs more. You’ll always let him in. 

His breath ghosts over your lips when he leans in. “And just like a fall harvest, you’re full of the sweetest delights, waiting for me to… gather.”

Cheesy, but true.

A needy whine pierces the air, your hips instinctively rising when his thumb brushes your clit. “Bucky, I’m bound. You don’t need to ‘gather’ me.”

“Shh, let me finish.” He smiles when you do. “The sweetest delights,” he repeats, his voice dark and lustful. He leans in a fraction more, his lips hovering above yours. “And I’m going to enjoy every single one, just like you enjoy everything about fall.”

Your eyes darken with desire, and he feels lucky to witness such a gorgeous look. “Then stop talking and start gathering,” you beg before you giggle. He loves that sound so much. “Or whatever it is you intend to do.”

His gaze moves from your eyes to your kissable lips, making him smile, something slow and predatory. His gaze continues to move lower, watching his hand between your legs slowly stoke the fire within you. It builds the ecstasy within him, too. “As you wish, sweetheart,” he says, finally closing the gap. 

A deep groan is ripped from his chest when your lips meet. He breathes in through his nose, the scent of the candle blending with your natural scent and making his need grow. The anticipation, the tension, the love between you, it continues to build like a slow storm. It’s everything.

He deepens the kiss, his thumb circling your clit faster. He knows your body better than you do, having taken the time to learn how to take you apart. He swallows down your moan as his other hand finds your hip and pulls you against his clothed body, letting you feel how hard he is through his jeans. His plan is to ruin you before the night’s over, more than once. 

“Desperate for me?” he teases against your lips when you both know he’s just as desperate, if not more. His blue eyes, dark with lust, lock with yours as his fingers caress you. He senses the delicious ache building in your core, each movement sending shivers through you. His mouth finds your neck when your head falls back, peppering kisses wherever he can reach. “Love it when you’re desperate.”

“More,” you gasp, your hips rolling, desperate for more of his touch and more of him. “I need more.”

“Patience, sweetheart. Didn’t I say I’d savor every delight?” His teeth drag along the sensitive skin beneath your ear and he feels you tremble beneath him, your hips bucking again. “But since you’re so impatient…”

You bite your lip hard when he sits back and begins to remove his close, the sound of him unzipping his pants loud in the quiet room. You watch like you’re mesmerized with every move he makes, the same way he’s mesmerized with you and has been from the start. Where he thinks you’re beautiful, his body is mapped with scars. They’re a testament to harsh moments in his life that he survived, a path that led him to you. And he’s unashamedly aroused because of you and completely yours.

He kneels between your legs once more, his hands resting on your thighs to spread them wider. “You’re so beautiful,” he says huskily, his gaze raking over your exposed body, licking his lips when he stares at your dripping hole. “More beautiful than the brightest foliage.”

For a second, he thinks you’re going to laugh again. “I am not-”

His fingers delve deep into your wetness, your words fading into a sharp cry. He sees pleasure blossom on your face and possessive satisfaction crosses his. “You are beautiful,” he huffs, leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you breathe.

His heart swells. “Now let me show you how much I love you.”

You can only nod when the tip of his cock replaces his fingers, which he greedily licks clean, the scarf keeping you right where you’re meant to be. With the warm glow and scent of the candle surrounding you, your cry mixing with his groan when he sheaths you, he swears to himself that he’ll give you the most wonderful night. And he’ll treat you like this every single night if you let him.

Fall or any other season.

I can't believe September is on the horizon! ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! More to come soon. ❤️

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Intro to our soft!dark brother's best friend? ✅

Next part to Not Just Friends? ✅

And maybe another trick up my sleeve. ❤️

[navybrat817-sideblog]

So, soft!dark Bucky who happens to be one of your brother's best friends. 😏

[navybrat817-sideblog]

Hold You Tight: Part 31

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 30 | Series Masterlist | Part 32

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.5k

Chapter Summary: You continue to bond with Bucky, and you pay Lois a visit.

Chapter Warnings: Kissing, mention of oral sex (f. receiving), tension, inner turmoil, discussion and aftermath of physical assault and being held hostage, world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight, and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 and @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You were up before Bucky, the events from the previous night playing in your mind. Opening up, though not fully, to Addison was needed. Fun with the girls, which should’ve been what the winery entailed, felt normal. But Bucky going down on you…

You pressed your legs together when Bucky held you closer, pushing that thought away. It wasn't just taking back power by letting desire sweep you away. It was giving him a piece of you and praying he wouldn't break it. He held the cards, but at least you were playing the same game now and you didn't have a losing hand. 

You turned your head, studying him. He looked soft, serene. He didn’t look anything like the man who broke into your place or ran his world with an iron fist. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was smiling in his sleep. He looked like someone who could rest easily because he had the entire world in his hands. And he did, didn’t he? 

“Okay, you need to let me go so I can get up,” you whispered, trying to get out from under his arm. 

“No,” he mumbled, nuzzling your neck. Maybe he hadn’t been asleep after all. “Wanna hold you.”

You sighed and stared at the ceiling. “You’ve been holding me all night,” you reminded him.

Bucky held you in his chair after you recovered from your orgasm. He held you when he led you to the car and didn’t let you go once he buckled you in. And he continued to hold you once you went to the guest room to sleep. Yes, you were still sleeping there.

You felt him smile. “And I’ll keep holding you until I’m satisfied.”

“I’m going to the hospital to see Lois,” you said. You weren’t planning on staying long, just enough to see for yourself that she was going to be just fine. “You can hold me later.”

“Can I go down on you before you go? Or after? Can’t get your taste out of my mind.” His lips touched your skin, not aggressive. Slowly, tenderly. “I’m addicted.”

You tilted your head, which only gave him more access to your neck. You bit back a moan when his hand slid to your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple through your top. “Quit distracting me,” you demanded, gripping his wrist.

“But I’m so good at it,” he smiled, lifting his head to look down at you. “Sounded so pretty when you said my name. I’ll bet you scream even louder when I fuck you.”

“My god, you’re just like Dana. A dog with a bone,” you muttered, but you found yourself smiling at the eagerness in his eyes. It was better than feeling fear or repulsion. Safer.

His eyes had a dreamy gloss to them. “I’m keeping that desk forever.”

“I’m sure you are.” You managed to push his hand away so you could sit up. “I have a question before I see Lois.” You needed to get his mind off of sex, which wasn’t going to be easy since he seemed to want you constantly. 

“What is it?”

“What should I tell her if she asks about Cl…” You trailed off when the playfulness left his eyes. You had almost forgotten for a moment that he didn’t want you to say Clark’s name. “Her ex.”

The room suddenly felt colder when he smiled since there was no warmth behind it. “She has already been assured that he’s gone, but you can tell her the same if she asks.”

But you didn’t know what exactly had happened to him. You were in the dark. “I’m still not used to this,” you whispered. 

There was no guide on how to fit in his world. Looking back you wondered if you could’ve gone about some things differently. Maybe you could’ve fought more, but you had to give yourself credit and grace for fighting back the only way you knew how. You tried to establish boundaries and did what you thought was right to protect your friends. You were still doing that. Even if you broke again, you didn’t let any of this defeat you.

“You’re doing your best, and your best is more than enough,” he whispered back.

The scary thing about his pretty poisoned words was that they didn’t kill you. They simply lingered and slowly grew within you like a parasite you couldn’t carve out. He was in your veins. “Thanks.”

With a kiss to your forehead, he finally let you leave the bed. “Science.”

“Science?” you repeated.

“That was my favorite subject in school,” he told you, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “I just… want you to know more about me.”

He was offering your facts about himself unprompted, the kinds of things couples would know or ask each other about. His mom likely supported his love of science, and that thought warmed your heart. “It’s a fascinating subject. With your love of books, I would’ve guessed English was your favorite.”

“That was my second favorite subject,” he said. “I always envisioned a future with flying cars, and I’m disappointed that we don’t have them.”

“Like The Jetsons cartoon?” you smiled.

“Exactly like that,” he smiled back, his eyes lighting up. 

You found yourself sitting back down on the bed. “Flying cars would be nice, but I’d rather have one of those beams that can teleport you anywhere you want to go.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You’d choose that over a flying car?”

You giggled at his expression and the almost normalcy of the conversation. “I mean, a flying car sounds cool, but it’s basically a mini helicopter or plane, right? The beam wouldn't take up much space and it's a much faster mode of transportation.”

“But with the car you can see exactly where you're going. You can't do that with the beam,” he argued and smirked when you nodded. He thought he won the “argument”, but his opinion didn't sway you. 

“Sometimes you have to embrace the fear and the unknown and trust that you’ll end up exactly where you need to be,” you said, giving him your own smirk. 

He stared at you with intense focus. “Kind of like what you're doing with me.”

Your heart thudded. Was he right? You had embraced parts of your new life, but trust was something a little more fragile. Last night was a big step, and it showed he could keep his word and loosen the hold on you. 

“You know what? You’ve convinced me. Teleportation beams beat flying cars,” he declared, taking your hand and kissing it. “But since we don't have either of those yet, I’ll just take somewhere on a private jet after Addison's wedding.”

“Wait, what?” you asked. How did you go from discussing futuristic transportation to a real trip?

“Private jet. You. Me. Romantic trip. Anywhere you want to go.” He kissed your hand again. “No thinking about work, the club, future endeavors. We’ll just focus on each other.”

A romantic trip just the two of you after Addison's wedding. It almost sounded like he wanted a honeymoon even though it wasn't your wedding. “You’re distracting me again,” you teased, getting up, but he didn't release your hand. 

“Your existence distracts me,” he teased back. “Just think it over and don't worry about the cost of the trip because I know you will.”

You couldn't argue with that. “If I say ‘yes’ to this possible trip, will you let me go so I can see Lois? If so, yes.”

He smiled triumphantly and let you go. “Our first romantic trip. It'll be a dream come true.”

“I’m sure it will be,” you said. Whatever you asked for, Bucky would move heaven and earth to give it to you. “Now, please, go have breakfast so I can get ready.”

He pouted when you went toward the bathroom. “Not having breakfast with me?” 

“How about lunch or dinner?” you offered. It was a fair compromise. 

“Lunch and dinner,” he countered. 

“Go,” you giggled, watching him fall back on the bed before you shut the door. 

You leaned against it and sighed. The morning felt so ordinary. The conversation was so easy. Was that what it meant to really be with Bucky?

There was a knock on the door. “Kotyonok?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I said I was thankful for letting me worship you last night, but I didn't thank you for the thing that really mattered.”

You turned to face the door and cracked it open, his eyes bright and crystal clear. “For what exactly?”

“For letting me in,” he replied, reaching in and touching your cheek. “I know we still have some bumps to repair on our path, and it means a lot that you're giving me a chance to prove my worth.”

He had certainly gotten under your skin. “You look like you want to kiss me,” you whispered. 

“I do,” he breathed, pushing the door open enough so his lips could meet yours. He took advantage of the gasp you let out and slipped his tongue inside. The kiss didn’t last long, only mere seconds, but it felt like he had kissed you for hours when he pulled away. How did he go from looking in control one moment and ready to lose it the next? “Sorry... I’ll let you get ready.”

You caught your breath once he shut the door, leaving you alone once again. You pressed your fingers to your still tingling lips. It was never just a kiss with Bucky. It was a promise of more, something both vulnerable and full of feral desire. The man pivoted from soft confessions to raw hunger like the turn of a page, unsettling and captivating. 

 I didn't thank you for the thing that really mattered… For letting me in. 

Did you let him in, or did you stop fighting so hard against the tide? The hold he had on you seemed softer, but you were still tethered to him. He was subtly weaving himself into the fabric of your thoughts and fiber of your being. And was the trip a step in being a good boyfriend or was he firmly solidifying his place in your life?

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. The fear in your mind and heart were morphing into something much more complex. There was an undeniable physical pull between you and Bucky, a strange sense of affection. It was dangerous to give in more, but the alternative of the constant resistance was exhausting and almost impossible. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, you were adapting.

You splashed some cold water on your face to clear the lingering fog of Bucky’s presence. You needed to focus on things outside of his immediate orbit, like Lois. Focusing on yourself was important, too. 

But as you got ready, you kept picturing how his eyes lit up when you talked about The Jetsons. You smiled, too, before reminding yourself that beneath his easy smiles and playful banter that he held power and wasn’t afraid to use it. He wasn’t afraid to play dirty. There was lingering darkness even if he tried to distract you with romantic trips and more. 

But in the darkness was your light, and you were allowing it to shine on him little by little. 

Curtis accompanied you to the hospital, but didn’t say anything before you left the penthouse. That may have been because Bucky had snuck in another kiss or two right in front of him before you both left. Your bodyguard didn’t say anything on the ride over either. His posture didn’t seem as relaxed today when he helped you out of the car, his eyes a bit more narrowed as he took in his surroundings. Had Bucky said something to him, or was there something else going on?

“Is everything okay?” you asked, carefully carrying the flowers you put together. You checked beforehand to make sure she wasn’t allergic, and you hoped they brightened her day even just a little.

“Just some things on my mind.” The corner of his lip quirked. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

You wouldn’t push, but you did hope he was okay. “You know, I half expected to see you on the dance floor last night when that random guy started bothering me.”

Bucky had ushered you home so quickly after you recovered in his office that you don’t remember seeing Curtis follow you out. 

He nodded. “I was ready to step in, but Jax beat me to it,” he said, giving you the gentlest of nudges. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for defending me, but you know you didn’t have to do that, right?”

You nudged him back. “I know, but I wanted to because Bucky had no reason to treat you like that,” you countered. Whatever Curtis had done, blood on his hands or not, it wasn’t Bucky’s place to say anything. “And if I said or did something to make him jealous-”

“Don’t blame yourself because you didn’t do a thing,” he gently stopped you. “He’s just insanely jealous when it comes to you.”

“But he doesn’t treat Ray like that,” you said. He had complete faith in his right-hand man. Why trust Curtis with your life while treating him the way he did?

“He thinks I partially understand you in ways the others don’t and that bothers him.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you understand? Besides being trapped with nowhere else to go?”

Curtis met your gaze with a sad smile. “Focus on Lois. You and I can talk later.”

You nodded and headed to the desk. She was the reason you were there. “Hi. We’re here to visit Lois Lane,” you said, giving your name.

Once you had the room number and okay to go, your steps felt a bit heavy. You remembered visiting Bucky’s mom and how thankful she was for your visits. For a moment you felt like you were wrapped in a hug, comforting you and lifting your spirits. 

“I’ll be right out here,” Curtis whispered when you stopped at the door. 

With a deep breath, you stepped inside. In the bed lay a beautiful woman with long dark hair. Her fair skin was marred with fading bruises and she had a cast on her right leg. You wouldn’t say she looked tired, but maybe bored, like she had better things to do than lay in bed. 

You bit the inside of your cheek. Clark put his hands on her, hurt her. Bucky was many things, but he wouldn’t put you in a hospital bed like this.

“Lois?” you asked quietly, not wanting to startle her. 

She looked your way and surprised you with a welcoming smile. “So, you’re the florist. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, her gaze flickering to the arrangement in your hand. “Those are beautiful.”

“Oh. Thanks,” you smiled, setting them beside her bed. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

You twisted your fingers, unsure of what to say. What could you say? Clark had attacked you, but he hurt her before that. Guilt ate away at you even though none of it was your fault.

“Don’t apologize to me,” she said, startling you. “You just have this look on your face like you want to say you’re sorry when there’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”

“I just… I really don’t know what to say other than I’m glad you’re okay.” You took a breath and looked her over. How could Clark do that to her? “Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer right away, her attention drawn to the flowers. “Clark was great at first. A little awkward, but still great in his own way even with the hero complex,” she said wistfully. “I’ve always been a little independent and he liked that at first, but he was a little too protective. Always asking questions, stepping in when I didn't need the help. Over time he got a little tired of the fact that I didn’t want to rely on him. I was just… used to taking care of myself.” 

You took a seat in the nearby chair. The hero complex made sense since he felt the need to rescue you. “Am I allowed to ask what happened?”

“I tried to leave, that’s what happened,” she answered. You expected bitterness and there was a little anger, but there was mostly sadness. “We were fighting more than we got along and I was tired of it, and tired of this city. After a big fight, I said I wanted to go back to Metropolis without him. I just wanted him to leave me alone.”

Clark told you something similar, how stubborn and headstrong she was. “And he stopped you from leaving,” you whispered.

“In all of our fights, he never raised a hand to me. Not once.” Lois tried to look impassive, but there was underlying fear in her eyes. “One second I had a bag in my hand and the next I was on the floor in pain. It felt like a dream, but it was a living nightmare.”

You ached, remembering how Clark had thrown you to the floor. You quickly shifted your focus back to her. This wasn’t about your pain. 

“I don’t even think he realized what he did at first, but he freaked out and wouldn’t let me leave. Said he knew I’d go to the cops and he couldn’t have that. So, he dragged me to the guest room and made sure I had no access to my phone or computer. I tried screaming, but either no one heard me or they didn’t care.” She blinked a few times, her fingers gripping the sheets hard. But she didn't cry. “He brought me food and water and tried to play nice, until I broke free. That’s when he broke my leg, which he blamed me for.”

You gasped and fought the urge to be sick. You knew Clark was strong, but to break a bone? That was horrible. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” you said. She didn’t deserve that.  

“I told you you have nothing to be sorry for,” she said, smoothing out her sheets. “Truth be told, I was more worried about you than me.”

“Me?” you asked. Why was she worried about you when Clark held her captive?

“He came home one day and mentioned this beautiful florist who needed rescuing from Bucky Barnes, the one who always put together the roses he brought me. Said you couldn't fight for yourself, so he had to do it for you." You went stiff at the mention of Bucky and Clark’s words. “He said once he got you to Gotham he’d find a way to let me go free, but I knew he’d never let me leave that apartment.”

You shivered. Did she think she was going to die there? “Clark did go after me, and Bucky saved me,” you explained. She had a look of understanding, but also curiosity. “And Clark. Well, he’s…”

“Gone,” she filled in the blank, the implication lingering in the air. She didn’t sound at all surprised or upset. “So, Bucky saved you and you saved me.”

You brushed that off. “I didn’t save you.”

“You did. The men who rescued me said you asked Bucky to make sure I was okay. So, yeah, you saved me.”

“I… All I did was ask Bucky to check on you,” you said. It was the right thing to do. 

A faint smile touched Lois’s lips. “Asking is more than enough sometimes. Knowing someone cares means everything, especially when you’re trapped and alone.” Her gaze drifted to the nearby window. “He tried to make me believe that no one would care, and that I deserved to be there because I didn’t ‘appreciate’ him enough. You, a complete stranger, questioning my safety was a crack in his lie.”

A lump formed in your throat. The sheer terror Lois must’ve experienced and that psychological torment on top of her physical abuse was chilling. “I’m just glad you’re safe now.”

“Me, too.” She met your gaze, a fierce determination taking over the sadness. “I don’t know what’s next for me, but I won’t be trapped like that ever again, and I’ll be okay. I’m heading back to Metropolis as soon as I’m cleared, and I’m going to start over.”

You admired her strength, and you’d be sure Zemo kept his word to cover her medical expenses and give her extra to help her out. “That sounds like a great plan.”

A spark of curiosity filled her eyes again. “And what about you and Bucky Barnes? Clark was really jealous of him. Beyond jealousy, actually. He hated him.”

You shifted in your chair. What did she know about him? “Bucky and I are together, and I moved in with him after… everything.” You didn’t want to share too many details of Bucky’s world or your complicated feelings to someone who was getting over her own nightmare. “He’s very protective of me.”

Lois laughed, a dry sound. “Is he protective or possessive? Because Clark was protective at first, too,” she said with a sharp stare. Not judging, but concerned. 

You hesitated. Bucky was protective and possessive. The way he kissed you, how he treated Curtis, went off on your parents, handled any potential threat to you, it was a fine line. “He isn't like Clark,” you said, not just to convince her. Bucky was intense and manipulative, but you didn't believe he would be that cruel to you. 

“I hope not,” Lois said softly, not pushing even though she looked like she wanted to. “You seem like a good person. You deserve someone who supports your independence and doesn't try to control it.” She rested back more with a yawn. You wanted Bucky to support you, too. “Thank you for the flowers. And for caring. For… well, everything. I owe you my life.”

You stood up slowly. “Nothing to thank me for, and you don't owe me a thing,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you and the guilt you’d carried lightened. You were just glad she was okay. “I’d offer to hug you, but-”

“Actually, I'd really like a hug from someone I know won’t hurt me,” she said. 

You held back tears when you leaned down, careful not to hug her too hard. She sniffled and held you for a few seconds before she let you go. It was a shame to meet such a great woman under terrible circumstances, but she was one of the reasons why you wanted to help others. You wanted them to rebuild, to have hope for tomorrow. She deserved a good life. 

“I’ll let you get some rest, and I’ll try to come back and visit again before you leave for Metropolis, if that’s okay?”

“I’d like that,” she said, her smile kind. “I could use a friendly face that isn’t a nurse or a doctor. Or someone with a hero complex.”

You laughed a little. “No hero complex here.”

“Wait. Before you take off. One of the men was nice enough to grab my bag for me when they got me out.” She urged you to hand it to her. “In case you need anything.”

She dug out two business cards and handed them to you. One had her phone and email address. The other, you read the name once. Twice. 

Bruce Wayne

“I heard he wouldn't like someone like Bucky in his city.”

“Bucky? Probably not.” She shrugged. “You? I think he’ll make an exception.”

When Bruce’s name came up at the club you hoped you’d never meet him, and now Lois was offering you his card. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” Zemo already owed you a favor, and now you had Bruce Wayne's number. 

As you turned to leave, Lois called out to you. “Sorry. One more thing.” You stopped and looked back at her. “The men who rescued me… they weren’t the cops, and the cops haven't been by to question me. Not once.” You swallowed when she tilted her head. “They were Bucky’s men, and they're keeping the cops away, aren't they?”

You nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Good. Clark deserves to face some brand of justice, whatever that may be.” Lois’s smile widened slightly, a hint of danger in it. 

You weren't sure what to say to that, but you agreed that he deserved justice. He had hurt her in so many ways. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you asked. You weren’t an expert, but you had faced your share of life altering events recently and the aftermath of what Clark had done might hit her when she least expected it. You didn’t want her to face that alone.

“I’ll be okay,” she whispered, sounding so much like you that it was like looking in a cracked mirror. “Tell Bucky I appreciate everything. And you.”

“Take care,” you managed to say before you slipped out of the room.

Why was your stomach still in knots after seeing for yourself that Lois was safe?

Curtis was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, scanning the hallway with a glare. He straightened up when you approached, his expression softening slightly. “How’s she doing?”

“He really hurt her, but she’s resilient,” you said, tucking the card away before he could question it. You admired the hell out of her. “I think she'll be okay.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, walking close beside you. “What did she give you?”

You glanced at him. You should've tucked the card away before you left the room. “She gave me her number.” You waited a beat. “And Bruce Wayne's number.”

Curtis hummed and held out his hand. “Mind letting me see Bruce’s card?”

Your stomach sank before you took it out and gave it to him. “I didn't ask for it,” you said right away. Why did you feel guilty when you didn't do anything?

“I know.” He snapped a photo of the card before he handed it back to you. “But just in case he tries to get rid of it.”

“You think he’d do that?” you asked, knowing he probably would. 

“Bruce is an interesting man, and Bucky wouldn't want you mixed up with him,” he answered, giving you a wry smile. “And I don't think I have to mention the jealousy factor.”

You sighed. “No, you don't,” you agreed. You were well aware of it. 

Like he knew you two were discussing him, your phone went off. 

“I miss you, Kotyonok. Have Curtis bring you home.”

You frowned. Bucky was home already and wanted you back? “Speak of the devil…”

“And he shall appear,” Curtis finished for you, his voice low. “C’mon. I’ll get you home.”

Home where Bucky was waiting, and what would he do when you told him Lois gave you Bruce’s number?

Poor Lois. I think the aftermath of the visit is going to hit Kotyonok back at the penthouse. And a bit of Curtis's backstory to come in the next part. How's Bucky going to react to you having Bruce's number? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[navybrat817-sideblog]

Clark likes to eat the kitty. Right?

He sure does, nonnie.

So, So Pretty

Pairing: Clark Kent x Female Reader

Summary: You sit on Clark's face. WC: Over 600 Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving), mention of sex, Clark Kent (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Happy Sinday! Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Clark isn't doing anything particularly interesting. He's just sitting there. Breathing. Existing. It's still enough to want him. And he knows you want him, the thick scent of your arousal hitting his nostrils before you breathe his name. 

So, one minute you're beside him on the couch, the next you're in his lap, your top and bra long gone. He has his mouth on one breast, his hand teasing the nipple on the other, and his other hand down the front of your pants. “You feel so good,” he whispers, gently suckling as his fingers spread and move along your slick folds. 

You moan his name when he circles your clit, gripping his hair hard enough that he moans, too. You would never be strong enough to hurt him, but he swears he feels every bit of pleasure you give him and everything else. He could break you, but he won't. You’d welcome it if he did. You’ll happily shatter if it means he’ll make you whole again.

“Need to taste you.”

Your pants and underwear are ripped off before you can blink and he has you hovering over his face, both of you panting, wanting, needing. Your hands grip the back of the couch, but he'd never let you fall. So, you move your hands to his shoulders instead. “Gosh, it's so pretty. It’s so, so pretty,” he says in wonder, staring at your glistening cunt before he makes you take a seat. 

You try to protest, but all you do is whine. Any other man would suffocate like this, but Clark isn't just any man. Even if he was, he'd die happily smothered by your wet pussy. You might die, too, since the beautiful Kryptonian still had his glasses on and there was something really hot about that. You hope the heat from your pussy fogs them up.

His tongue lazily swirls inside you, your walls clenching around him and making him chuckle. The vibrations have you grinding on his face, desperate for more friction, more of his tongue. You think you're begging for him to fuck you, but it's tough to make out your own words over the sound of the blood rushing in your ears. 

He lifts you off his tongue only for a moment to say with a smile, “Ride it like you mean it and then you can ride me.”

And you do. You ride his face hard and fast, arching your back and toying with your breasts while he rests his hands on your hips, feasting on you like he hadn't eaten in days. "You're so wet," he mumbles at one point, your thighs shaking and your head falling back. You practically hear that the dam is about to break and your release is going to be all over his face.

And he doesn't stop fucking you with his tongue until you let beautifully break for him..

He pushes a thick finger inside, too, before your orgasm crashes over you. Your world explodes, the sensations making your head spin. He brings you back to him when you float away, moaning as you continue to clamp around him. His face is soaked and he has a smile on his face when he positions you in his lap, your body trembling in the aftermath. And you can feel how hard he is when you shift. 

He kisses you like you're the most precious thing, making you taste yourself as he gives you one more smile. "You're so pretty," he whispers, his glasses falling down his nose. “Now let's see how pretty you look when you ride me.”

And, well, aren't you just the prettiest thing he has ever seen?

Sitting on his face would cure me. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[navybrat817-sideblog]

Miss Navy! What about brother's best friend Bucky?

Would be hot as hell, nonnie.

Question is, regular or soft!dark?

Love and thanks. ❤️

[navybrat817-sideblog]

Tell Me a Story

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You're tired after a long week. Instead of watching a movie like you planned, Bucky tells you a story.

Word Count: Over 2.6k

Warnings: Established relationship, bits of canon and Bucky's backstory, mention of torture, feels, being in love, talk of having a family, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Just wanted something sweet after a long work week. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was finally the start to the weekend. It should’ve been a thrill for some time off after such a long work week, but you were too exhausted to celebrate or even move. You found yourself staring at the ceiling as the clock ticked on the wall, your body sinking more into the cushion. You wished you could magically make the television remote appear in your hand just so you didn't have to get up.  

Why weren’t you blessed with telekinetic powers?

“Thought you would’ve started the movie by now.”

A soft smile touched your lips when the couch dipped beside you, warmth settling into your weary bones at the smell of Bucky’s cologne. “The remote’s all the way over there,” you said, pointing across the room. “Couldn’t get up.”

“My poor baby,” he teased, chuckling and easily catching the pillow when you attempted to hit him. “Hey. I'm not the enemy.”

“No, you're not,” you agreed, stifling a yawn. “You're my Bucky.”

“All yours,” he promised, his smile gentle and easy. 

Another flicker of warmth passed through you. It was almost scary how much you cared for him, but you embraced the fear since giving yourself to someone was one of the bravest things you could do. Some days you looked at him and it was like there was a shift in gravity. You floated without ever leaving the ground. 

His finger brushed along your cheek in a tender touch. “Be honest. Do you think you’ll make it through a movie?”

You sighed and turned more on the couch to fully gaze at his handsome face. You had been looking forward to curling up with him and watching a movie, but you had a feeling you wouldn’t last more than a few minutes. “I can try,” you said, reaching over to brush some of the hair out of his eyes. “Will you?”

Bucky was tired, too. You saw it in the way his shoulders slumped and the small circles under his cerulean eyes. You heard it in how his sigh matched yours, like even breathing took effort. At least he had an excuse for being tired. He was a hero. And an old man. Super soldier or not, old men needed rest. 

But you didn’t say that. If you uttered even a syllable suggesting that his work was more important than yours, or that he was old, he’d rant and rave that what you did was just as important and more. Or he’d silence you with a kiss or put you over his knee.

Maybe you should open your mouth…

He wordlessly held his arms open. It took you a second to lean against him since you were too busy staring at his broad chest and massive arms. Exhausted or not, your eyes would always appreciate his magnificent face and body. 

“Hold on,” he whispered, scooping an arm under your legs and lifting you with ease. You sighed happily as he carried you and rewarded him with a kiss. You could never make the excuse you were too heavy since he had the serum in his veins. “Better to go to bed now and avoid falling asleep on the couch.”

“As if you'd ever leave me there,” you teased, snuggling against him once he stretched out on the mattress. 

“I wouldn't,” he promised. “And since we likely won't make it through a movie, how about I tell you a story until we both fall asleep? Stories are just as good as movies.”

“Sure. I like your stories,” you murmured, resting your head against him. 

It wasn't just his stories. It was his voice. You loved picking up on his little tells, like the slight growl that crept in whenever he got upset or the hint of passion that took over when he talked about something he enjoyed. Most of all, you loved hearing him say he loved you. It was as if he breathed the words into your lungs and you breathed the words back into him when you said you loved him, too. 

“Okay.” He dipped his head down, his lips brushing the top of yours. “This is the story about a broken prince and the princess who helped save him.”

You closed your eyes. Bucky wasn't broken in your eyes, but he was your prince, your future, your love. “This has a happy ending, right?”

“Their story isn't over yet,” he answered, his hand rubbing lightly along your back and making you melt into him. “But yeah… They're happy.”

“Good,” you whispered. 

“Once upon a time, there was a prince who lived in the kingdom of Brooklyn. His parents, the king and queen, were loving, and the prince did his best to look out for his sisters, the princesses.”

“I'll bet they adored him,” you commented, an ache settling in your heart. You would never get the chance to meet Bucky's parents or sisters, but he did manage to get an old family photo. It reminded him of his past and how far he had come. He just wished he could’ve shared you with them.

“And he adored them. He also had a scrawny punk of a best friend always getting beat up for defending others, his heart way too large for his body. Girls wouldn’t give him a chance, no matter how hard the prince tried to find him a dame,” he said, chuckling quietly. There was something bittersweet in the air, like he was longing for the old days and knew he could never go back. “But his body caught up with his heart and he’s still a good man today, fighting for people who can’t fight for themselves.”

You smiled softly. You liked to think you were Bucky’s biggest cheerleader, but Steve took the cake. He had been through hell and back for his best friend. You hoped if you two had a kid one day that they would have a friend like that.

“So, the prince had a loving family and a best friend,” you said, running a finger along his sharp jaw. “Girls chased after him, didn’t they?”

You knew Bucky was a charmer and carried himself with confidence and swagger that many envied. Women had loved him, men had wanted to be like him. You saw glimpses of it from time to time, pieces of the man he used to be with the man he was today.

“They did. There were quite a few and he didn’t settle down, but he wasn’t cruel to them. He was raised better than that,” he replied. 

“A prince with some morals,” you teased, drawing another chuckle from him. No matter what, he was a gentleman at heart. “Sounds like he had a good life.”

“He did have a good life,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “And then he had to serve his country, and everything changed.”

Any trace of happiness in his tone vanished, something cold seeping in. “What happened?” you whispered, knowing the answer. 

Bucky didn’t look at you. You weren’t sure if he was seeing anything at all. “The kingdom of HYDRA captured him. Tortured him. Erased who he was,” he said above a whisper, the slight growl warning you of the anger beneath the surface as he tightened his grip on you. But he wouldn't hurt you. Holding you was grounding him. “He went from an honorable prince to a mindless soldier, a puppet on their strings forced to hurt people he had always wanted to protect.”

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. Hate wasn’t something you liked to carry in your heart, but you despised the people who hurt Bucky and everyone else they managed to get their hands on. HYDRA was poison that lingered even when there were remedies. Nightmares, blood that didn’t seem to wash away. It wasn’t fair.

But they were paying the price in hell. 

“He didn’t deserve that,” you breathed, trying to discreetly wipe away the tear that fell from your eye.

He caught it before you could, his eyes soft and sad. “No, he didn’t,” he agreed, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “But that scrawny best friend, the one who had a heart too big for his body, helped save him, even when people said he couldn’t be saved. He helped him remember the man he was.” He paused, the corner of his lip twitching. “He didn’t stop believing in him.”

Steve wasn’t just a hero to the world, but a hero to his best friend. “Because he knew he was worth saving,” you whispered. “And he knew it wasn’t his fault.”

Blame and guilt was something Bucky carried for a long time, that it was his fault because he carried out the deeds. He was made to be a weapon when his real self was trapped in his own mind. He had no choice. His freedom, his agency, everything had been taken away. You prayed no one would ever have to experience what he did. 

“It took time for him to believe he was worth saving. And it took him time to adjust, with himself and the kingdom he no longer recognized. He had to find his way, and he even found a group of people who had lost their way, too,” he continued, his lips forming a warm smile.

The Thunderbolts. The New Avengers. Whatever you wanted to call them. They drove Bucky crazy sometimes, but they were a team and dare you say family. 

“But he was still missing a part of himself…” He sighed before he breathed you in. “And that’s when he met his princess.”

You brought your hand to his heart, not just for you to feel it beat but for him to feel that he wasn’t alone. “Is that right?” you smiled.

He chuckled, the rumble vibrating through your chest. “The most beautiful princess he had ever seen. She didn’t live in a castle or have a grand title. She was just… herself,” he said, his voice so full of warmth and pride that your cheeks warmed from the praise. “She was full of life and light and she saw the prince, not the soldier he’d been forced to be. She saw the good, kind man who just wanted to protect people, even when he couldn't see it himself.”

You bit your lip. You always believed that you saw him for who he was and not the weapon he was turned into, but hearing him say it made you feel seen, too. The two of you saw each other and it was a wonderful feeling. 

His voice grew softer, more affectionate as he said, “The prince was a little wary at first, thinking he was a little too broken for someone so bright. He didn’t want to taint her light with his shadows.” He booped your nose, making him smile when you scrunched. “But this princess, she was stubborn. Just as stubborn as his best friend. Instead of running from his past, she stayed. She held his hand through the darkest parts of it and helped him move forward.”

“So, they forged a path together.” You felt another tear slide down your cheek, but the ache inside you was from the overwhelming love you had for him. “And what happened after that?”

“Well, the prince used to think home was a place and she taught him that it wasn't the case at all. It’s a feeling and what you make of it. And they made a home together,” he said. Home is where the heart is, that’s what you once told him. “She taught him how to laugh again, how to trust, and how to hope for a future he thought he wouldn’t get the chance to have.”

Your chest tightened and you were afraid you’d start sobbing if he continued like this. 

“She was there through his nightmares and helped chase them away with gentle touches and tender words. Her strength gave him strength that he forgot he had. She made him feel safe for the first time in a long time.” His breath was warm against your forehead. “She loved him, even the parts of himself that he hated.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, but it didn’t stop the whimper from building in your throat. You loved every part of him. “And the prince loved her, too, didn’t he?”

“More than anything in the world,” he murmured, moving a hand to cup the back of your head. “He loved her so much that she became his whole world. She was his anchor when he began to drift away, his peace when the wars waged inside him, and his light in the shadows and lingering darkness.”

You opened your eyes, your heart full and beating fast. He spoke of you like you were a gift. It was more than you believed you deserved because you weren't anything special, but he would disagree if you said that. 

He smiled at you, the kind of smile that had your breath catching in your throat. “She reminded him that he wasn’t just a soldier, but a man capable of giving and receiving love. She found every broken piece of himself and helped put him back together into something new and whole.”

His words lingered between you, and you felt the rhythm of his heart match your own. You were still exhausted, down to your bones, but there was warmth and safety as you gazed at each other. He was the comforting blanket when the weight of the world threatened to crush you. 

“Like I said, their story isn’t over yet. It’s still being written,” he whispered, his lips grazing yours. “Every day is a new page, a new chapter. And every chapter is happy for him because she’s in it.”

It was a feat that you didn't bawl like a baby. If anyone ever tried to tell you that Bucky wasn't a romantic man you’d remember this story. “They’re lucky to have each other.”

“Yes, they are,” he smiled. “And maybe one day, they’ll have their own children to tell their story to.”

Your heart fluttered. “The prince and princess would become a king and queen if that happened.”

Maybe a little boy with his laugh and love for science, or a little girl with his eyes who would carry books around. Having a family with him would be a dream come true, and he would be the best father. And if it didn't happen that was okay, too. The two of you were a family no matter what. 

“They would. But the truth is, the prince feels like a king every day because he has her.” You searched his eyes and didn't see fear or doubt. Only love. “He feels complete.”

Your pulse thundered and you held his gaze. “She feels the same way,” you promised, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. 

You relaxed more in his hold and you felt his body relax, too while he still held you securely. Sleep was threatening to pull you under and you wanted to tell him how much his words meant to you, how much he meant to you. Your story wouldn't be complete without him. 

“My prince. My future king,” you mumbled in a sleepy declaration. “I love you so much, and I always will.”

With a soft kiss against your forehead, he whispered, “I love you, too, princess… my future queen. Always.”

Your breathing grew slower and even, and so did his. The movie was long forgotten as his hold guided you into a peaceful slumber, the outside world fading away. You deserved the rest. So did he.

And you deserved a long and happy life together.

Maybe we can have more stories. Maybe to Alpine? They're future kids? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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[navybrat817-sideblog]

Leftover Frosting

Pairing: Clark Kent x Female Reader

Summary: Clark bakes you a cake and has a plan for the leftover frosting

Word Count: Over 1.3k

Warnings: Established relationship, foreplay, talk of oral sex (f. receiving), light bondage, slight feels, a bit of humor, Clark Kent (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I meant to post this yesterday for my birthday. Oops! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Clark tried to give you a beautiful cake for your birthday. He really did. It wasn’t that he was bad at baking. He was a great baker who followed recipes to the letter. And the cake was going to be delicious. You just knew it. 

But the presentation… Well, Clark looked so sheepish when set it in front of you, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. Thanks to the uneven frosting and the crooked letters spelling out your name and ‘happy birthday’, it wasn't exactly beautiful, but it was something. So, was it the prettiest cake? No. But did he put love and care into it? Yes. Absolutely.

“Sorry. One day I’ll be good at frosting cakes,” he mumbled, your heart cracking when he finally gave you a sad smile. 

He had steady hands, so that wasn't the issue. Cake decorating, like many things in life, took patience and practice. He’d nail it one day. Until then, you'd appreciate the effort he put into it and enjoy every treat he baked along the way. 

“Why are you apologizing?” You didn’t hesitate to snap a photo of the cake before you blew out the candle. “It’s perfect,” you said with a smile. 

“It’s not perfect. I messed it up,” he muttered, pushing his glasses up. “I just wanted to give you a good birthday.”

If your heart could've turned inside out it would have. You beckoned him with your finger so he’d bend down. Once he was close enough, you pressed your lips to his and sighed when he immediately deepened the kiss. You weren't going to let him talk down about himself. Not on your birthday. 

“It’s perfect to me because you took the time to make it, and you have given me the best birthday.” You didn't ask for much anyway since having Clark was the best kind of present, but he still went out of his way to get you gifts and bake your favorite cake. Most guys would've bought one instead of trying to bake one. It meant a lot. “So, thank you.”

His gestures of love whether they were big or small made all the difference to you, like when he once wrote your name in sky or when he just held you when you cried and always gave you a kiss before he left for the day. To so many people he was Superman. To you, he was Clark Kent, a good man and an even better boyfriend. A hero to the world, and a hero in your heart. 

“Still not perfect, but I appreciate the thanks.” The sheepish look faded into something slightly more confident once he cut you a slice and fed you a bite. The happy sigh you let out told him no matter what it looked like that it tasted delicious. It was one of the best you ever had. “I, uh, have some leftover frosting, too.”

“And what do you plan to do with the leftover frosting?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

His smirk sent a shiver down your spine. “You’ll see.”

He had the same smirk on his face when he stripped you down almost an hour later, like he was the one unwrapping a gift even though it was your birthday. His hands mapped your body with such care, like they had so many times before, his kisses lingering and full of longing. You tasted the cake and frosting on his lips and tongue, the flavor spreading a craving through you that grew stronger by the minute.

“It’s your birthday, but I want dessert,” he whispered.

He tied you down with a ribbon that matched the wrapping from one of your gifts, careful to be sure you were safe and comfortable. His strength alone would’ve been enough to immobilize you, but he liked the ribbon against your skin and so did you. He covered your torso in frosting, slowly and meticulously, like he was painting a masterpiece. You trembled and writhed, but he cooed and didn’t rush. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the slow torture, taking his time since you were the reason for celebrating today.

He leaned down once he finished, his breath warm against your skin, shivers trailing in the wake of his lips. “I may not be good at frosting cakes just yet, but you look good enough to eat,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that had you clenching around nothing.

He tasted the sweet frosting along your collarbone first, the slow drag of his tongue drawing a gasp from your lips. He licked slowly, tracing your throat with a groan. You bit your lip as he continued his deliberate exploration, your heart racing faster when he reached your chest. He didn't trace your nipple or the swell of your breast yet, and you found yourself arching to meet the heat of his mouth.

“Clark,” you whined, the ribbons keeping you from moving any further. Waves of sensations crashed over you, his hands holding your hips steady when he finally licked and sucked your hard nipple. He made you feel like the most delicious treat, one he wanted to both devour and savor. 

“Maybe I should spell 'happy birthday' when I eat you out,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “Spell it with my tongue and fingers,” he added, his blue eyes sparkling with delight followed by a devastating smile before he moved to your other breast. He showered it with the same care and attention, his hold on you still firm yet gentle. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” you whimpered once he made his way down to your navel, his chuckle soft and deep. “Is that what I’m doing? Because the smell of you is driving me crazy,” he said, your thighs shaking as he opened them. He licked his lips and delicately ran a finger along your soaked folds. “Though I have to say it pairs well with the frosting.”

You couldn’t even cover your face since he had your hands tied, but you knew he heard the blood rush to your cheeks. “Frosting and pussy? That’s an erotic candle in the making,” you teased. 

He laughed again, but his eyes flashed red for a brief moment when he brushed his finger along your clit. “No one gets to smell you but me,” he declared with just a hint of possessiveness. “Or taste or touch or be inside you.”

You moaned and tried to buck your hips, anything to have more of his touch. “Only you, Clark,” you promised. Some guys didn’t understand why you dated a “geek” like Clark, but you always said that he was a god in the body of a man with the most loving heart. There was no other creature in the universe you wanted more than him.

He exhaled, putting your legs over his broad shoulders. Hearing that you were his alone put his worries at ease. Yes, even the Kryptonian had insecurities because he was human in heart. “That’s what I like to hear,” he whispered, pushing his tongue into your twitching hole and moaning at the taste of you. “But I also want to hear you say my name when I write ‘happy birthday’. Think you can scream my name for me?”

“You know I will,” you moaned, smiling down at him and feeling thankful that you had him. “Now get to it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled back before he got to work, his name echoing off the walls within seconds. 

If Clark wanted you to spend your birthday on your back getting worshipped, devoured, and fucked, you weren’t going to complain. You’d lay back and enjoy as he drew every ounce of pleasure from you the way you deserved. When he finished, he could feed you some more of that delicious cake.

And if there was any leftover frosting after that, he could worship you all over again.

How can we not love this man? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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