#MCU Avengers fanfiction

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

The Birds They Put in Cages: A One-Shot

To escape certain execution on Asgard, Loki is forced to marry a beloved Midgardian socialite in order to bring peace to the vengeful hearts of Earth on the three-year anniversary of the Battle of New York. Meanwhile, you watch miserably on the sidelines as he saves his life by forever removing himself from yours.

Pairing: Loki x Reader angst Content: angst, arranged marriage, suicidal ideation, weed use, no happy ending Word Count: 4.4k

“It seems your wedding day has arrived, brother!” Thor boomed jovially from the far end of the library in Avengers Tower. “It’s an odd place for a groom to be spending his final hours as a bachelor, though, doesn’t it?”

Thor sauntered over to where Loki sat at a small desk by the window, consumed in the second act of Jane Eyre until he was so rudely reminded of the last thing he wanted to think about. He looked up with pouted lips and a tired glaze in his eye.

“Can’t you at least wait to mock me until after midday?” he replied sullenly, his eyes quickly retreating back to his book.

Thor sighed. “I thought you said you were going to pretend this was a good thing. It is, really, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.”

Loki snapped the book shut and looked up at his adoptive brother angrily. “How can you say that? How could I say that?”

“I take it she’s still in your thoughts.”

“Y/N understands,” said Loki, “But reasonably, I’ve considered ritual suicide in an ancient Italian crypt as a solution, among other things.”

“Oh, I get it, that’s from that Shookstick guy you like, right?” Thor asked.

“I suppose that’s close enough,” Loki replied. He looked out the window, forlorn and depressed. Well, Loki, here’s one you can’t trick your way out of, for once.

“Brother, I am sorry, but she’s gone from your life,” Thor said sadly. “You were good together, but things pointed in a different direction for you.”

“I love her still,” Loki mused quietly. “I would die for her.”

“And if you called off the wedding tonight, you would,” Thor reminded him. “But no one would benefit from that, would they? So, maybe we can sit together and have one last stein to drown your sorrows!” Thor pulled two large class beer steins from behind him, seemingly from out of nowhere, and both instantly filled to the brim with amber liquid and foam. Loki smiled in spite of himself and took one, throwing back a big gulp before setting it down on the desk in front of him.

“What’s this book?” Thor asked, picking up the tome Loki was occupying himself with.

“Jane Eyre. Its about someone who chooses their own fate, and for Norn’s sake, don’t get beer on it, Thor!” Loki snapped, grabbing the book back.

Thor shrugged and took a fifteen-second swig of beer that almost emptied his glass. “What I don’t understand is how you haven’t even tried to plan some escape with her,” he said. “It’s not like you to accept this lying down.”

Loki nodded. “Indeed, but you saw how with one sentence, Dany’s father can ruin a life. Mine. Y/N’s. Midgardians may not have seidr, but they have other ways of manipulating the mind and enslaving the soul.”

“At least, um, at least Dany is beautiful?” Thor suggested. “You’ll have the most attractive bride in the galaxy!”

Loki shook his head. “Beauty isn’t in a shape or size, Thor. I may be many things, but a shallow fop who only concerns himself with the external form? What do you take me for?”

“Sorry, brother.”

The pair sat and drank in silence a moment, Thor refilling each of their glasses.

“So, you really will never see Y/N again?” Thor asked.

“It’s part of the terms,” Loki answered sadly. “Besides, it will be enough of a pain for her to see the tabloid covers of Dany and I. The less she encounters me in earnest, the better for her to move on and recover.”

The blonde god knitted his brows in thought. “Well, that may be true, but it’s not exactly easy to ‘recover’ from true love.”

Loki looked up at Thor, a look of hope in his eyes for the first time in weeks. “You think that’s what we had?”

“My brother, you two were practically naming your children,” he replied. “I really am just trying to lighten your spirits here, but maybe it’s futile.”

“It is. It’s the most deplorable prison I’ve ever locked myself within. Please go away and leave me to absorb that in six hours, I will be permanently tethered to some show pony who blackmailed me into a Happily Ever After with her, while my twin soul weeps elsewhere and watches.”

Thor cocked his head as an idea came to him. “How far can you send projections?”

Loki gave Thor an inquisitory look. “I can call them back from anywhere, why?”

Thor shrugged. “I’m just saying, maybe you can see Y/N one more time before making yourself do this, but you have to be sneaky one last time.”

In spite of himself, Loki smiled at Thor’s hint. “Brother, did you forget who I am?”

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Loki was stuck between a vibranium asteroid and a hard place. Three years ago, under the influence of Thanos, Loki had failed to bring down the conquest of Earth, and as a result, was handed one of two sentences after facing a tribunal made of Midgard and Asgard: either accept Asgardian justice, which Loki’s oh-so-beloved father Odin had declared would mean a death sentence, or undergo indefinite probation on Midgard under the watchful eye of Nick Fury and the Avengers. Loki was no fool, so he of course chose life in exile. However, the terms of the parole were ironclad: a single violation and extradition was imminent.

Loki knew how to behave, and it wasn’t like he was in any hurry to return to Asgard and the shame (as well as the headsman’s block) that would have greeted him. In fact, Loki quickly found exile to be a pleasant experience when you arrived in his life seven months after the tribunal, when a friend of a friend had gotten you a job as a research assistant under Stark. While you’d kept your fling on the down-low to start, it wasn’t too difficult for the others on the team to see Loki’s heart was slowly being stolen, as was yours.

At first, it was little snide comments while passing one another in the corridor. Then, you’d invited Loki to see what ‘Midgardian magic looked like,’ and allowed him to watch you as you worked with your experiments, a little flattered to see how engrossed he became in your talents. Before you knew it, Loki was sharing his heart with you late into the nights, and in spite of yourself, you fell in love, hard and fast. As much as the pair of you had initially insisted on keeping things ‘casual,’ you quickly discovered that what you had between you was much more than that.

You loved how he laughed when recalling his tricks and successes in adventures past. He fell at your feet whenever you whispered gently in his ear that you ‘needed him.’ You gave him a reason to settle into life on Midgard with contentment in spite of his nature. He was absolutely besotted with your voice every time you grabbed your favorite book off the shelf (Jane Eyre) and read a chapter out loud to him. You didn’t even mind when he stopped you to ask questions half way through a paragraph.

Once, you swore you heard Tony Stark call you “Mrs. Reindeer Games.”

Then came Danielle Ashton-Banks, the heiress to the Ashton-Banks Hotels and Suites fortune, and the world’s most eligible bachelorette. Known for being charismatic, charitable, and a big partier, it was as if Pygmalion had carved the woman out of marble. Tall, thin in all the right places and curved in all the right places, with jet black hair that shimmered in the light, and a smile that said “I have the best orthodontist in Beverly Hills,” Danielle was a catch, and she was among the world’s most popular celebrities.

You’d been with the God of Mischief for nearly a year when she walked into an investors’ party and stole the attention from everyone in the room. She, like any woman with eyes and a sex drive, fell at Loki’s feet. They did share some personality traits and got on like friends, to your slight jealousy. At the end of the evening, you didn’t think twice about ever seeing her again, as you and Loki had left the soiree hand-in-hand.

Danielle, whether she was being encouraged by unseen meddlers or doing so of her own volition, began showing up more often and attempting to cozy up to Loki. She began encouraging him to go out in public with her, and while there was never any obvious physical contact or chemistry between the pair, the public ate it up. Approval ratings for the Avengers skyrocketed, and the general populace even seemed to be willing to forgive Loki’s transgressions for the most part, if someone as perfect and wonderful as Danielle Ashton-Banks was clearly macking on him.

The only reason Loki had been polite and remained on friendly terms with her is because he knew he had you waiting for him just behind the cameras. He had no idea what was coming when Danielle came up with the ‘brilliant’ idea of marrying Loki in a grand spectacle meant to rival even the Royal Wedding of 2011.

“It will be like William and Kate, but for the whole world to cheer for!” Danielle’s father, Marcus, had said. “And if it doesn’t happen, perhaps Asgard can have the final say. I know that when it comes to a royal wedding, those guys don’t chop corners, do they, Loki? Asgardians sure know how to keep their heads about them when planning such grand events, yes?”

The God of Mischief suddenly found himself powerless as the idea was approved by the probationary board. “It will bring that last bit of approval that the Initiative needs to regain momentum,” the Head of the Probationary Board had said.

“An arranged marriage? How utterly archaic!” Loki had defended himself. “You would bind me to someone I don’t love, when you all know well that my soul belongs to another?”

“You’re having a fling with Stark’s research assistant,” Marcus had replied. “Easily fixed. She’s fired.”

Danielle always got her way, and the official engagement announcement that followed broke the internet, as well as your heart.

Nothing plucked at your heartstrings more than listening to Loki, alternating between fury and sorrow, explaining everything to you that night. You graciously accepted and understood that Loki had no say in this. In fact, it made you weep for him to see him so vulnerable. The God was caged. Gods didn’t do well under lock and key. It was all you could do for him to quietly relieve him from your relationship, kiss him once on the brow, and to look away when the entire world collectively squealed with glee at the announcement of the Loki/Danielle Ashton-Banks wedding.

You were made to pack up your desk while CNN played in the background covering the betrothal and the preparations for the ceremony, to be publicly televised. Danielle and her father had arranged it so that you were unceremoniously shoved out the door without even being able to say goodbye to most of the others.

You did manage to catch a glimpse of him as you left, his head turned away from you, his forehead against the door, as if he were hiding his face on purpose from anyone who could catch on that the great God of Mischief was finally beaten inside.

It was the worst image to be the last of your love, but it remained burned into your retinas as the days passed and the wedding day neared…

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Thor stood as Loki’s best man, and was a little too reserved as the sanctuary of St. Patrick’s was filled to the brim with everyone connected to the Avenger Initiative and the Ashton-Banks fortune. Paparazzi lined the back of the chapel, cameras and mics at the ready to record the blessed event. Thousands of fans lined the roads outside the church, and some of the Avengers themselves acted as crowd control as the wedding party arrived at the cathedral.

Loki stood at the altar, dressed in a black suit, his dark waves tied back at his neck. He looked oddly blank-faced, staring right ahead as the organ player finished warming up, ready to play the march (or, as far as Loki was concerned, the dirge).

The crowd in the pews got to their feet as the music swelled. Camera flashes started twinkling so furiously, Thor couldn’t help but try to blink them away, to no avail. Ohs and Ahs rang out as Dany stepped into the aisle to meet her husband, her satin white dress made with more material than most stories had in stock. She was a vision in cream colors, not a hair out of place or a crumb of makeup smeared. Seeing Loki, she beamed her pure-white smile, fluttering her eyes, signaling to her beloved.

Loki hardly reacted, nodding curtly at her, no sweat on his brow, no tremble in his lip, no regret in his face.

Thor had to fight back a giggle at the humorously-unbalanced scene. Oh, I hope no one figures it out. He needs a little respite today, if just for a minute.

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Jersey smells, you thought. And now I’m contributing to the stink.

There was no way you were staying in the City today, even sequestered in your loft in Brooklyn. The promo images for the wedding were everywhere, Dany’s interviews playing on every station. Hell, people had even made t-shirts commemorating the blessed event of your soul mate marrying another woman. It was all you could do to muster the energy to rise that day before dawn in order to enter self-imposed exile on your cousin’s apartment building rooftop in Newark, which had a decent view of the City skyline as early evening rolled in.

You sat on the edge of the roof, a comically large glass pipe in your hand (shaped like a green dragon winding itself around a pile of gold—a gift from Loki for your last birthday). You crammed as much cannabis shake as you could into the bowl, spilling some onto your lap.

If I get absolutely shitfaced and fall off this roof…eh, who’d care?

You knew at any moment that fireworks would be set off over Midtown, and that would indicate the wedding was signed, sealed, and delivered, and that your beloved Loki was a married god. To cope, you did what you did best: taking an eighth of Maui Wowee outside and blazing yourself into stupidity while watching the night rise and singing off-key.

Singing was your favorite way of showing off for Loki. One would think it was your research, as that was what had brought you and Loki together in the first place, but it was when you were alone, him begging you to sing a verse from a Broadway show, that you truly felt like a princess. His princess.

YOU were supposed to be his princess. Sadly, you were as powerless as he.

The air was stilled that night, so you had no trouble lighting an ember in the bowl and sucking back long and deep, the massive quantity of skunky smoke filling your chest to the point of bursting. You held it there for nearly ten seconds before slowly releasing your breath, watching your emission gather into a dusty cloud and slowly hover off into the dusk.

You sang to yourself from the darkest show you could think of, inspired by the greenish-brown cloud that hovered over New York like an unnatural mist. “Smoke? Smoke! Sign of the Devil! City on fire…”

“Well, if the city is on fire, it certainly isn’t my fault, is it?”

You nearly dropped your pipe at the soothing, incredible sound of Loki’s quipping voice. The last thing you’d expected to hear, but the most desired.

You resisted the urge to believe what you were seeing, and instead you felt yourself laughing in a wave that quickly grew out of control.

“Oh, that just isn’t fucking fair,” you muttered, taking another quick drag off of your dragon. “Tanya’s stuff doesn’t usually have this effect. I’ll kill her for lacing this.”

“Effect? Darling, you aren’t hallucinating. I’m here, well, maybe not entirely,” he answered you, smiling, dressed to the nines in what you could only assume was his wedding attire (fucking hell, he was so sexy and imposing!). “I had to see you.”

Though your brain was quickly fogging over, you chose to accept that Loki’s specter was here before you, interacting with you as if he were flesh and bone before you. “My love, you’re getting married right now,” you said woefully, placing your weed beside you on the ledge before getting up and running to meet him in the middle of the rooftop.

He nodded. “I am. We’re at the altar right now, actually, although my heart is here.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just waiting on the fireworks.”

“Those are merely ostentatious bombs that you are about to see. Fireworks are here with you,” he answered. “Oh, were I able to hold you now! It should be you at my side.”

You immediately felt the insides of your eyes go hot and wet, listening to Loki’s longing for you. “Hearing you say so is almost enough.”

“Yet it can’t ever be enough,” he moaned.

You shrugged. “As long as it saves you from death—”

“—it IS death!” Loki shouted, his voice sharp and loud, barking frustration into the darkness. “Had I only realized it sooner: you can’t cage a god and expect him to thrive!”

“I know that technically, I was invited, but I hope you understand why I can’t exactly watch as you declare your eternal vows for someone so beneath you,” you answered.

Loki scoffed. “’Beneath me’ is an understatement, my love. She only wants to go out and dance at clubs, or be seen on red carpets. She thought Mr. Rochester was a brand of cleaning fluid! She’s made it very clear that I am an ornament for her arm and a doll for her bed.”

You both looked at your feet, him in despair, and you in despair mixed with intoxication.

“Do you think there is ever a way we could see each other after this?” you asked.

Loki shook his head. “I think we would’ve figured it out by now, dearest heart.”

You nodded, recalling how as soon as the plans were being put in motion for the marriage, you and Loki had plotted in desperation to stop them, only to find that Dany’s loud charm (and her father’s even louder bank account) had sealed off all escape routes for Loki. Loki pleaded with Fury and Stark, which had disturbed both men to see the normally arrogant being brought so low as to beg before a superior.

It made you fall to pieces to see it for yourself.

The noose had tightened around Loki’s neck before either of you knew it, and nether of you had any cards to play in the end (especially seeing as you weren’t even allowed in Avengers Tower on Dany’s request after you were terminated). You both were forced to accept that this was it: this was how the light would leave your life. Tomorrow and the future would perhaps be bearable but hollow, and every kiss Loki shared with Dany echoed off the walls of his prison and shook his will apart at the seams.

“Arranged marriage,” you scoffed. “I thought this was 2015, not 1015.”

Loki sighed in agreement, wishing he could touch your face to wipe away your tears, and feel your warm skin against his palm. “This would happen to me. It’s almost a more fitting punishment than the death sentence.”

“I can’t bear to see you go off into this lonely life, especially without me!” you broke down, taking off in a sprint to fall into Loki’s arms, only to fall right through his projection and land up against the brick wall behind him.

“Norns, Y/N! Be careful, okay?” Loki called, turning and watching helplessly as you showed him that there was only a tiny, painless scrape on your elbow. “I could heal that, if only—”

“—no, no, it’s not the only scar I’ll keep from tonight, believe me.”

You looked into Loki’s eyes and saw where the real pain was. His blue irises stood in front of whites that were tinted with the red of sleeplessness, his eyes cradled in large, dark bags. Dressed in his best, he looked like an awkward teenager unsure of himself and just wanting to run and hide. Yet, he was such a beautiful creature, even in the depths of sorrow. “I wish…I wish we’d never met. You can’t lose what you never had,” you hissed angrily, looking over his shoulder towards the NYC skyline, now completely aglow against the black sky.

Loki shook his head and thoughtlessly reached out a hand for you. “Please, of all the pain that we are facing today, those are by far the most agonizing I’ve heard yet. Don’t make me hear those words again!”

“But why not? We’d both be so much better off!” you sighed in defeat.

“My darling, my life, if I never knew you, how could I know what love is at all? At least I can take your final words to me and let them play over in my mind’s eye like a pleasant, haunting memory.”

You bit your lip, looking against over the horizon anxiously. “Loki, my love, may I ask one last thing of you?”

“Please ask me to plunge a dagger into my throat...or more to the point, hers.”

You shook your head and smiled sadly, looking back up at Loki, hoping he would catch on for what you had in mind. “I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will, which I now exert to leave you."

You just knew that Loki immediately realized what you were asking for. He straightened his position and looked tenderly at you, reciting: "And your will shall decide your destiny, I offer you my hand, my heart, and a share of all my possessions."

By far, the most intimate moments you’d ever shared with your otherworldly paramour were when you shared your favorite scene of your favorite book with him, and he’d proposed that you read it to one another, acting out the roles of Miss Eyre and Edward Rochester, using the passionate recitations to ignite your own flames of affection. Tony Stark once referred to it as “foreplay for dorks,” but nothing stoked your dreams faster than when Loki pulled out the book and asked to ‘go over something’ with you in private.

Now, here you were, declaring your love for Loki from the rooftops for one last time.

“You play a farce!”

Loki’s look grew more intense as he began to lose himself in his character’s thoughts. “I ask you to pass through this life at my side, as my second self—”

“—and for that fate you have already made your choice, and I must abide by it! I am torn away now, and cannot return, for your bride stands between us.”

Loki began shaking, realizing how much he wished he could be speaking his lines in sincerity. He raised his voice, and with the most conviction he’d felt in months, Loki’s declaration boomed into the night:

“My bride is here!”

You couldn’t continue. The tears flowed freely now, and your voice quivered and faltered, bringing you back to Earth, the last place you wanted to be.

You closed the gap between you and the projection, and were Loki corporeal in your presence, your chests would’ve been pressed against one another. Looking up into his eyes again, you just wanted everything to erase. All of it.

“You really don’t…you have regrets about us?” you asked between your sobs.

“Never. Not a single one. I love you, Y/N. No matter what becomes of our separate lives, I will always imagine it’s you in bed next to me. I will pretend my children have your eyes, that you carried them inside you, and that I was at your side when you brought them forth,” Loki vowed to you. “No matter what the gossip says about us, my love, please know in your soul that she will never own my heart, and I’m longing for the day she grows bored of me and files for a divorce, so that I may run home to you.”

You felt a hopeful pang in your chest at the mention of divorce. “Do you think that could happen one day?”

“I’m afraid I’m still not clairvoyant, my pet,” he replied with sorrow. “It could, it could not, and I’m afraid if I forced it onto her myself, it would backfire and make things worse.”

You nodded. “You’re probably right.”

Loki chuckled. “Darling, we’ve been a pair of doves flying together for two years, and you only just admitted for the first time that I can be right.”

The smile Loki’s joke induced spread across your face, breaking through the pain. “Well, if not now, when?” you giggled.

That was when the first firecrackers boomed in the distance, back towards the NYC skyline. You heart fell into your abdomen. Reality sank back in.

Loki choked back a tear, trying to maintain at least a little sliver of positivity to return to the festivities with. “It appears I’ve just kissed my new wife.”

You nodded silently as the explosions increased and technicolor sparks grazed the skyline. “Mazel tov,” you whispered. “Please try to find some happiness, wherever you go from here.”

“Don’t envy my gilded cage, my love,” Loki replied. “I would rather be chasing the horizon with you.”

“I love you!” you pushed through the tears. “Forever!”

“And I love you, for always, my soul,” Loki whispered.

Before another word could be uttered, the specter of your true love faded into non-existence as he returned to where he was expected to be, leaving you standing on the rooftop, alone, listening helplessly to the matrimonial celebrations reach a crescendo behind you.

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I know the plot has ‘been done’ quite a bit. Just wanted to try it out for myself. 😊

@mochie85​

MY MASTERLIST MY AO3

[huggingkoalas]

ride me it

pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader

synopsis riding a motorcycle should be similar to riding her face, right?

word count 1.8k

warnings smut, use of vibrators (using a literal motorcycle), mentions of ‘exhibitionist’ kink, mentions/use of ‘mommy’ kink, pet names, teasing, cursing, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha

author’s note am i going absolutely feral over nat's motorcycle scenes in age of ultron and black widow? yessir :P + this fic is inspired by this tiktok edit of nat too <3

navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me

“Will you teach me how to ride, Nat?” You asked, stopping your gentle scratches on her scalp.

Natasha, lying on the bed with her head on your lap, turned her attention from the movie playing on the television to you. Amused, she raised her eyebrows, her infamous smirk on her lips. “Are you talking about my face?”

You slapped her hard on the arm and shook your head in amusement. “I meant the motorcycle, you weirdo.” 

“Ouch, that hurts.” Natasha hissed with a pout on her face. 

Both you and Natasha knew she could handle physical pain since she was literally the Black Widow. Even if she didn’t have superpowers like Thor and the Hulk, she was still one of the most powerful women in the world. Fighting the desire to roll your eyes, you played along with her antics. You rubbed her arm, eyes twinkling in faux pity while mouthing ‘sorry’. 

“I read the mission reports everyone sent from the Ultron Offensive mission. I had no idea you knew how to ride a motorcycle.” You remarked, continuing your featherlight strokes along her hair. You wish you were there that day. If you witnessed Natasha riding a motorcycle, skillfully navigating through traffic and avoiding danger, you’d be drooling right away.

“I guess it just never came up. I wouldn’t mind teaching you, though. It would be hot if you rode something other than my face.” Natasha teased.

“Nat!” Your cheeks turned bright red from her comment. “I-I mean, you’ll have to teach me the basics first, though. I don’t think I’m ready to drive one yet.”

The thought of driving a fast vehicle sent shivers down your spine. Despite feeling scared, you wanted to impress your girlfriend. Maybe if you tried something dangerous, like learning how to ride a motorcycle, she wouldn’t keep calling you a scaredy cat.

“I can teach you the basics now.” She replied, removing her head from your lap and sitting up.

“N-Now? You sure?” You hesitated. “I mean, sure, yeah, okay.”

You didn’t think she’d teach you how to ride a motorcycle now, but you weren’t complaining. Natasha intertwined your fingers with yours, dragging you to the garage quickly. 

You could see the excitement in her eyes as she led you to the garage. The green in her eyes was brighter than usual, and you couldn’t help an endearing smile appearing on your face. Seeing this side of her made your heart melt. Sometimes, she reminded you of a puppy.

Your eyes adjusted to the amount of sunlight flittering through the ceiling-to-floor windows once you reached the garage. It was your first time here, and the spaciousness of the area amazed you. Numerous cars, including SUVs and Humvees, were lined neatly side-by-side. Your gaze immediately spotted the familiar black and red motorcycle you had read in her mission report.

“What’s its model again?” You asked, walking to the motorcycle and running your fingertips along the tank cover before resting your palm on the leather seat.

“It’s a Harley-Davidson LiveWire.” Natasha walked up behind you, resting her hands on your hips. “It’s brand new. The motorcycle from the mission got totalled, so Fury and Stark had to buy me another one.”

“Yeah, I know. I had to deal with financial reports afterwards. It’s... really expensive.” You turned your head to look up at her, leaning up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Only the best motorcycle for the best woman in the world.”

“Enough compliments or I’m bringing you to my room and showing you how much you’re the best woman all night.” Natasha husked, her teeth tugging at your earlobe. Her hot breath whispered in your ear, making you weak to your knees.

She released herself from behind you, her famous smirk on her face as she noticed your flustered state. “Alright, get on the motorcycle.” She said, her voice an octave lower than usual. You looked at Natasha, and she was looking at you with darkened eyes. 

You both knew what that tone meant. It was the tone she would use on you when you were writhing on her sheets, moaning her name over and over again as she brought you to multiple orgasms. Both of you knew what the tone did to you. You’d willingly get on your knees and do anything she asked if she used that sultry voice again.

Clearing your throat to brush your mind off the filthy thoughts your brain had come up with, you inquired. “Won’t it tip over if I get on it?”

Natasha lets out a short laugh as you shoot her a nervous look. There’s a mixture of amusement and something else entirely in her green eyes. You're not sure. She’s making you even more nervous than you already are.

“See that little stick on the side propping up the bike?” With a nod of your head, she points to the black pedal holding the vehicle up. “That’s a kickstand. The bike doesn’t magically defy gravity, and it certainly doesn’t fly.”

You wanted to wipe the smug grin off Natasha’s face. Normally you’d make a snarky remark now, but instead, you let her off with a shrug.

“I promise to catch you if, for some reason, the kickstand doesn’t do its job, detka (baby).” The use of the pet name relaxes you a bit, and you nod your head.

“Fine, I trust you. Is there... A specific way to get on it?” You asked.

“Just mount it, lyubov’ (love). It’s the same as riding on my face.” Natasha replied in a teasing tone. Your head snaps towards her, and your cheeks warm. Her arms are crossed, and her biceps are clearly visible as she wears a black sleeveless sweater. You know you won’t survive the rest of the lesson if she acts (and looks) like this.

You grab the handles and slowly swing one leg over the seat. Your feet barely touch the ground, and you’re tiptoeing while sitting on the vehicle. 

“I think the motorcycle is too tall for me.” You looked at her with a frown.

Natasha expertly climbs onto the bike behind you. “Shortie.” She taunts.

“Careful!” You exclaimed, holding onto the handlebars as the bike tilted left and right due to her movement.

You shift in your seat, getting used to the weird position. The motorcycle seemed larger between your thighs. Furthermore, there were a bunch of pedals, levers, and buttons. You were familiar with what the side mirrors do, but you were not sure what everything else does.

Your heart pounded in your ears. The seat slope caused Natasha's body to press up against you. You shudder slightly as you feel her breasts press up against your back. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but her breath against the back of your neck sent a small shiver down to your core. 

“You’re so tense, detka (baby). Do I make you nervous?” She rests her chin on your shoulder, her hands running down your arms to take your hand in hers while you hold the handlebar.

“You’re sleeping on the couch if you don’t shut up right now, Nat.” You replied, gritting your teeth. As much as you liked her relentless teasing, the heightened adrenaline and fear in your body spiked your anxiousness.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry, lyubov’ (love). Let’s start the lesson then.” Natasha said, turning her attention back to the task at hand. 

She turned the key in the ignition on. The rumbling of the motor startled you as the engine started to thrum softly beneath you.

“I’ll put it on neutral since you’re not driving.” She added.

You nodded your head. You had a license to drive a car, so you knew some driving language. But even though you had experience driving a car, you knew that riding a motorcycle was something completely different. You could feel your heart racing and your grip on the handlebars trembling slightly.

“The lever above the left handle is the clutch lever. The one on the right is the lever for the front brake.” Natasha continued, showing and explaining the parts and their functions.

You couldn't concentrate. The vibration of the engine below you and the slight vibration of the seat had your attention instead. You pursed your lips and nodded as you pretended to understand what she was teaching you.

Closing your eyes for a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Natasha’s lips touch the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Are you listening to me?” She murmured against your skin.

You pursed your lips and speak shakily. “Y-Yes.”

Natasha smirked as she watched your face, she could clearly see that your mind was somewhere else entirely, exactly where she wanted it to be. “I can make you feel even better...”

“This is the throttle handle that gasses the motor.“ She taps a finger on the right handle. She slowly turns the handle towards you, her wrist applying pressure, and the engine revs louder.

“Shit, Nat-” You gasp out loud, the vibrations beneath you getting stronger the more she turns the handle. You feel even more wetness gathering in your panties.

“Nat,” You whimpered with desperation. “Please, I..I-”

You arch your body against her and throw your head back against her shoulder, enjoying the vibrations from the seat. Natasha almost moans at the sight of you aching for her. She gently pulls your shirt off, throwing it behind her. The cold air sends goosebumps down your arm and her left hand rests on your thigh, squeezing and kneading your clothed thigh.

“Shh... Quiet. You don’t want someone to walk on us like this, do you?” She warns you.

Your lungs are struggling for air as you gasp. Shame and desire course through your veins at the thought of someone catching the both of you in this position. You bite your bottom lip, biting it hard you think it might bleed. 

“Want me to go faster?” She asks in a sultry voice. Without waiting for your response, she twists the handle down quickly, the seat pulsating quickly and louder.

Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat. Your panties and pants are sticking to you uncomfortably as the leather seat vibrates harshly against your folds. You’re rutting down onto the seat desperately, aching for release. 

“I-I’m close, Nat, don’t stop, please-” You somehow manage to plead through the haze.

You moan loudly as she revs the engine loudly once more, and you scream ‘mommy’ as you orgasm, stars blinding your eyes as your body shakes with bliss. Your arousal sticks to your thighs and pools onto the leather seat below you as you come down from your high.

Natasha switches off the ignition once you finish tumbling over the edge. The vibration and the sounds from the motorcycle quiet down, and all you can hear is your increased heartbeat and the silence of the garage. You feel your legs and body twitch slightly from the orgasm. 

You turned your head towards her, seeing a shit-eating grin on her face. “Wow, ‘Mommy’, huh? That’s a first.” She teased, licking her lips. “I’ll have so much fun cleaning the bike later.”

You groaned, hiding your face in her neck. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” 

navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me

[lucid-anarchy]

another era, same diva

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Texture

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Masterlist

Word Count: 1,635

Summary: You being obsessed with Bucky and watching him every day during meetings, lingering around too long when you see him, all because of a dumb tiktok you saw late one night.

Warnings: 18+, f!masturbation, oral m!receiving, worshipping the man that is Bucky Barnes.

A/N: i saw this on tiktok and couldn’t help myself, imagine what’s your fantasy by Ludacris, ‘I wanna lick you from your head to your toes’

It was late and you had work in the morning. You shouldn’t be mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, your eyes were starting to burn from the leds that lit up your face. You told yourself five more minutes, that ended up turning into forty five. With one last swipe of your thumb your eyes read the words on the screen.

“You can look at any object and your tongue already knows what it would feel like to lick it”

Your brain starts rapid firing. You look around the objects in your dark room. For the most part it was true. You could feel the cool clay surface of the lamp on your bedside table, the rubber nubs on your tv remote.

You shut your phone off, laying it facedown underneath your pillow. You move to lay on your back and when your eyes close you see black vibranium. The words dance in the back of your mind. You weren’t shy on the fact you had a crush on the super soldier, but you never thought about him this way.

The thought of running your tongue down his neck, you could feel his stubble tickling you. You felt a chill run over you and your nipples hardened. You could almost taste the sweat if you thought about it hard enough.

You run your hand across your stomach, slipping your fingers in your underwear. You fantasized about every part of Bucky you could lick. But you could only picture one, his bionic arm.

Sure you’d thought about him pressing you up against a wall with it, holding you down, squeezing you tight enough to leave bruises. But you’d never touched yourself at the thought of cold metal running over your tongue.

You use your left hand to finger fuck yourself, giving it a taste test. When your fingers entered your mouth you imagined Bucky, spreading your pussy open then shoving his fingers down your throat. You push your fingers harder on your tongue, holding your jaw tightly, it helped when you closed your eyes and imagined it was metal. You came fast, not being able to stop your right hand from stimulating yourself.

You run to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and cleaning yourself up. You don’t know what came over you, you got desperate, doing anything to make it feel real. You look at yourself in the mirror, you can’t meet your own eye, instead you focus on the tiny bruise forming under your chin, in the shape of your thumb.

You wake up early the next morning, needing to apply more makeup than usual to hide your late night activity. You found yourself staring at Bucky during the morning debrief, taking in every detail of his face, neck and hair. The man dressed like a swat team member at all times, revealing nothing. He gloved his hands, even here, where everyone knows and accepts him.

You found him in the kitchen later that day, glove free. He was setting a mug down in the sink, when you walked in. “Hey.” You say, not wanting to make things awkward. “Hi.” He says, in a customer service kind of way. Like he’s only saying it to be cordial. You open the fridge and fish out your lunch that you brought, a chicken salad, it was your go to for an effortless lunch.

You make yourself comfortable at the counter, chomping away at the lettuce that filled the plastic container. You watched him as he washed the dishes remaining in the sink. You smile to yourself, he’s such a gentleman.

You tentatively watch as his vibranium hand holds on to the dishes. It’s fluid, no robotic tics in his fingers. You know your eyes were locked on him for too long when he clears his throat. “You taking notes on how to wash dishes?” He says, meticulously drying off the gleaming metal.

“Sorry.” You say, averting your gaze from him. You stare at the slices of grilled chicken, not feeling hungry anymore. You got caught red handed.

“That wasn’t an answer.” He says, laying the hand towel on the counter, putting his hands on his hips. “I saw you this morning too.”.

Your breath hitches, he doesn’t know about last night, he couldn’t, you needed to relax yourself and try to lie your way out of this. “I wasn’t staring at you, I’ve just been zoned out a lot lately.” You hope that works.

Bucky nods his head, “That makes sense, or at least it would, if I couldn’t sense how tense you are. That’s the opposite of zoned out. I heard your heart beating faster when I turned around. You’re in the moment, not your head.” He reads you like a book.

You don’t know what to say, do you spill every detail or do you just admit to your school girl crush. You meet his eyes “I just think you’re cute Bucky. Is that a crime?” You laugh, you couldn’t feel your face since all of the blood rushed to it. You close your salad, placing it back into the fridge. “You caught me.” You raise up your hands defensively.

Bucky doesn’t react, almost as if he doesn’t believe you. Even though you didn’t lie, you get nervous, like he was about to catch you up.

“Is that so?” He says leaning against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest. You watch as the metal plates slide into place.

“Mhm.” You can’t even form a sentence as you watch the veins in his other hand strain. Your tongue moves against the roof of your mouth as you imagine the metal shoved in there. You’re close enough to see the details, micro bolts, chips and scratches in the black finish. You can feel it all with the tip of your tongue.

Bucky breaks you from your trance. “I can smell you, y’a know?” Your eyebrows furrow, you thought you used the right amount of perfume this morning.

He steps closer to you, using his body to press you against the steel refrigerator. “Why would your pussy be so wet, if it’s just an innocent little crush?”. You can’t get out of this, so why not go for it.

“I was looking at your hands, since they’re the only part of you’re not covered in black polyester.” You give him a smug look. “Watching my hands made you this wet?” He slips his flesh hand into your panties, curling them at your entrance. You nod, building up the courage to grab his hand, sucking on the metal fingertips. It’s different than what you imagined, warmer.

Bucky closes his eyes as he pictures his cock in your mouth instead of his fingers. “I was imagining what you taste like,” you lean forward and lick a strip up his neck, it’s exactly how you imagined. “, what it felt like to run my tongue all over your body.” You say, surprised by your own confidence.

He pushed his fingers inside of you, liking the dirty words spilling from you. You moan, reaching out to grasp his black vest. “Let me touch you.” You say, pulling his hand from your pants. He grabs your arm and drags you out of the kitchen.

You’re thrown on his bed before you know it, he climbs on top of you, going in for a kiss. You turn your head, not letting his lips meet yours. “Let me.” You wiggle out from under him, standing up.

He sits in the middle of the bed, his feet dangling off the side. You drop to your knees and begin to untie his boots. He gives you a confused look when your remove them and move up his legs to his belt, unhooking it and removing the button on his black cargo pants.

You look him in the eyes as you pull down the zipper. You remove his pants swiftly, moving to push his vest off, you have to get up on the bed, straddling his bare legs. He looks up at you, amazed by you taking the lead. You peel off his black t shirt and he’s left in his socks and boxers.

You move back off the bed, admiring him splayed out. “You’re so perfect.” You say, running your hands up his thighs. You lean down to kiss each of his knees.

You keep your eyes locked on his face as you kiss up his thighs, ghosting over the large bulge in his boxers. He takes a shallow breath when you kiss his hips. Like he’d never experienced it before. “So beautiful.” You say, licking the happy trail growing up his stomach.

Bucky’s been getting a vantage point of view from resting on his elbows. You put an end to that by pushing him down, making him face the ceiling. You press your lips to both of his biceps, hovering over him when you finish.

“Can I kiss you now?” You say, satisfied with making your way up his body. He nods, keeping his hands to his sides while you devour his mouth, biting his lip and sucking on his tongue.

“I’m gonna take real good care of you, okay?” You ask before you get back on your knees. Bucky gets back on his elbows, not wanting to miss the show.

You free him from his tight boxers, letting him spring up towards your face. You take a moment to take a mental image of him, laid out so vulnerable. “Thank you, tiktok.” You whisper to yourself, grateful that a video effected you like it did, or else you wouldn’t be here right now, trying not to choke as you force every inch of him into your mouth. You wanted him to be proud and satisfied, even if it meant a sore throat.

[dianacandmm]

[babyjakes]

help me hold onto you.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | sex pollen

pairing | steve rogers x avenger!reader

warnings | sex pollen (reader was exposed to some sort of chemical agent that induced a persistent state of hyperarousal.) medical elements (reader is staying in the medbay.) crying (not related to the sexual interactions.) stevie is soooo soft :')). dialogue is soft and sweet, gentle praise and encouragement included. fingering. tummy rubs bc they make me soft. she comes quick! intense, prolonged orgasm. the beginnings of aftercare.

word count | 1,356

"Hey, hey- okay. I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here. Just tell me what you need."

Steve's brow was raised in gentle concern as he stood over your hospital bed. Dr. Banner had set you up in a secluded room at the end of the medbay, wanting to give you as much privacy as possible given the nature of your condition. It was still all a bit baffling to Steve; Bruce had shared any information he had available on the mysterious chemical you'd been exposed to out on your mission to a foreign bioweaponry facility, but most of it had gone in one of the supersoldier's ears and out the other. "Persistent heightened state of arousal" was the only phrase he was able to cling to, which still didn't feel like much to go off of.

As he stood there at your bedside, though, those words were all of a sudden making a lot more sense. You were a pitiful sight, really- curled up on your side with your knees hugged up to your chest. Your whole body was shaking, something that tore at your teammate's heart as he came to better terms with the severity of the state you were in. Overcome with obvious discomfort, all you could do was lie there and rub your sore knees together uselessly. Your hands reached out for him needily; in an instant, he was lowering himself down to sit beside you, leaning over you attentively as his face filled with concern.

"Oh doll," he hummed, reaching out to brush back your hair with a steady hand. Your forehead was drenched in sweat, your big eyes looking up at him pleadingly. As another wave of unbearable heat rolled over you, tears were building in your eyes. "How can I help, sweet girl?" Steve was pressing, "Is there anything I can do?"

In a moment of total weakness, you reached out for him again. This was completely abnormal behavior for you. Being the youngest and newest to the team, you were always intentional about maintaining an image of responsibility and restraint. But as Steve sat there at your side, his steel blue eyes looking over you so thoughtfully as he gently offered you his hands, your hijacked mind was fixating on him faster than you could realize what was happening.

"P-please," the weakness of your small voice broke Steve's heart. He nodded encouragingly, wanting to do anything he could to ease your suffering.

"What is it, honey? Hmm? What do you need?" he asked soothingly.

More tears built in your eyes as you failed to generate a verbal response. Instead, all you could do was continue to writhe pathetically. Steve's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of your movements. "Does something hurt?" You whimpered feebly at his question, shaking your head. "No, then what is it, sweetheart? Can you tell me, or- or show me?"

Desperation drove your every move as you shifted slightly onto your back, your knees falling apart as you brought a shaking hand down to motion over your hospital gown toward where the sensations were accumulating. If Steve was surprised or offended by your admission, he didn't let it show. Instead, he simply nodded, speaking with an understanding tone, "It's bothering you there, darlin'? Do you want me to take a look?"

Your wide, pleading eyes were enough to answer his question. Pausing, he took a moment to consider the best way to proceed. After a quick glance back at the door to the hallway, seeing that the coast was seemingly clear, he gently brought his hands over to lift up the thin fabric of the gown, pulling it back to expose the area you had pointed to. Steve couldn't help but gasp softly as he saw the ramifications for the first time; any doubts he could've had about the compound's strength or effects were immediately shot down as he faced the living, breathing evidence.

"Oh honey," he crooned worriedly, leaning his head down a bit to get a better look. Your pussy was so puffy it almost looked painful. Your clit was swollen to about three times its normal size, pulsating visibly in unison with your heavy heartbeat. Bruce had placed a wide gauze pad beneath you, and it wasn't hard to see why; with the constant state of arousal your body was trapped in, you were amassing an impressive amount of self-lubricant. Face drawn in disbelief and honest fascination, Steve struggled to find words to console you. "Sweetie, what can I do? Let me help you," his voice was swelling with concern. Swallowing hard, his gaze returned up to your face. "Can I-... would it help if I-... you know...?" The sweetest hint of pink rose up in his cheeks.

You were unsure of what would happen if he tried, but with the way your stomach was lurching and spasming in excitement at the mere thought, both you and Steve knew it would be senseless to not at least give it a try. Sensing your mild confliction, the supersoldier took a moment to brush back your hair again as his soothing voice filled the air, "It's alright, doll. Let me take care of you. S'just me, just Stevie. I'll be gentle, I promise."

As he spoke, he gently drew his hand down to begin rubbing at your inner thigh. Letting out a squeak of surprise, your heart jumped at the way his touch immediately sent sparks shooting up through your tangled nerves. "Easy," he hummed lowly, pushing on you carefully to encourage you to open up your legs a little further. Once you were nice and spread out for him, he took another deep breath. "Okay darlin'. Just keep breathing for me," he seemed to be trying to calm his own nerves as much as he was yours.

With the lightest amount of pressure he could manage, Steve carefully brought his pointer and middle middle fingers to sink slightly into your pool of arousal. They didn't linger long, as they then slowly dragged up your wetness to smear over your enlarged clit. The moment he came in contact with your poor button, your world was set ablaze. You had never felt such unbearable heat in your life; it was as if every atom within your core was being blasted into smithereens, an incredible amount of energy and pressure building up inside of you as a result.

"Easy, easy- shhhh," Steve was doing his best to talk you through it, watching as your hands scrambled to grip the sheets below you, your hips rocking in shameless desperation.

"Mm.... mmhh... hhh..." you struggled through incoherent whines. The man brought his free hand over to rub your tummy gently, trying to give you any sense of comfort and safety he could as he continued working the pads of his fingers in careful, steady circles.

It only took a few more moments of the simple stimulation to send an orgasm ripping through you with unimaginable force; as Steve saw your climax hit, his eyes widened, but he was intent on carrying you through it. Needy cunt spasming around nothing, your clit jerked and jolted beneath his tender traces. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, your whole body at the mercy of the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

And you kept coming, and coming, and coming- trapped in the grips of your orgasm for what must have been minutes compared to the fleeting moments you were usually granted. "Good, let it out," Steve was murmuring softly, watching as all your pent-up frustration was slowly pulled from your seizing body.

When you were finally winding down, breathless and slumped against the flimsy mattress beneath you, he was careful to pull his hands away with the utmost care to avoid causing you any further discomfort or unwanted stimulation. As he stood momentarily to find something to wipe his hands with, you let out a shaky whimper. "No, no, I'm here," he quickly returned to your side, retaking his place next to you on the cot. "I'm right here, doll. You're okay. Here, let me clean you up a bit, honey."

[sagechanoafterdark]

Shoot Your Shot, Cupid

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Word Count: 3,770 Warnings: mature language, unbeata'd, soft Bucky, lets assume Sam set him up for this one, female coded reader, happy ending because we all deserve it, TIME SKIIIIIP, best friend with good intentions that shows up for one job and then disappears, speed dating, one obnoxious man, all the soft feelings.

Hello Kittens, and Happy Valentine's Day. It's been a while since I wrote... well anything and I was working on this for a couple of months but I think it's come all together now. Hope you enjoy it!

This couldn’t get much worse.

Tricked by your best friend.

Nay, betrayed.  

By someone you implicitly trusted.

There would be no forgiving this.

Never, not ever.

The dinner and drinks invitation a few days before the start of February was met with trepidation on your part. All Christmas season you’d feigned interest as Mellony, your best friend, thrust every single co-worker, neighbor, and wait staff at you to find you someone to share the holiday with.

You couldn’t blame her. After all, Mellony was blissfully happy with her fiancée and only wanted the same for you.

All that you could forgive.

But this?

This was a complete and utter betrayal.

A deep and unimpressed frown marred your face as Mellony took the sticky name tag off the table with her perfectly manicured nails. Peeling the back with an ear-to-ear grin and pressed it against your chest. “There,” she exclaimed with joy, lacing her fingers together. “Now you’re all set.”

Looking down at the beautifully scrawled letters framed by little hearts you couldn’t help but curl your lip and whine, “Mel, you promised.”

The blond snorted and rolled her enormous puppy dog eyes, “I never promised anything.” Looping her arm through yours she practically began to drag you through the convention center doors and past the sign that sealed your fate.

Cupids Bow Speed Dating Event.

“Yes, you did,” you reaffirmed. Glancing around the room packed full of men and women in a combination of sweaters, suits, and cocktail dresses. “You promised not to try and set me up with anyone again.”

“This is my speed dating event. It doesn’t count.”

“I can assure you it does.”

“Nooooo,” she practically sang, turning around on her heel with that adorable mischievous smile of hers. “I promised that I wouldn’t set you up with anyone I knew. Everyone here was vetted by my team. I don't know any of these people.”

Grumbling she began tugging you towards the stage as intro music began to play softly from the DJ booth. Mellony paused, gripping your hand tight and looking down at you as the DJ introduced her, “Please, stay? I just want you to find someone.”

“Mel,” you hissed with disapproval. “I don’t need to find someone.”

Whether or not she heard you was unclear as the music swelled and Mellony put on her famous razzle dazzle smile and waved at everyone as she took the microphone and the presentation began. Your eyes swung to the crowd of people, more than three dozen people silhouetted against the stage lights and it made you shiver.

This was going to be a disaster.

Twenty minutes later your mind was glazed over with the audacity of men.

With every new ding of the bell, you found yourself becoming more annoyed. The match-making event progressed easily. People were divided into groups based on results from a questionnaire, something you distinctly remember Mel presenting to you as a fun Cosmo quiz, while one group remained seated the others rotated around the room.

By some stroke of luck, you were one of the people destined to sit. But that also meant that total strangers would be coming to your table to chat with you.

In all your years of singledom,  you’d thought you’d heard it all. Too fat. Too loud. Too smart. Too opinionated. Those were old hat by now, and you weren’t immune to the bitter words from unimportant people.

“I suppose you’re an attractive woman,” the suit across from you said thoughtfully. His eyes never met yours, instead looking around the room likely for the next victim of his charm. “But I’m not really into your hair color. How would you feel about dying it?”

The question hung in the air as you waited for the man to look back at you. When his beady eyes returned to your face you couldn’t hide the disbelief, waving your hand in the air with an icy finality, “Absolutely not. You can go.”

He didn’t wait. Standing so quickly the chair scraped against the floor as he haughtily walked towards the bar. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you pulled out your phone and began to scroll social media waiting for the next bell in fifteen minutes.

Not the wildest thing you’d ever heard, but the gall of some people astounded even you sometimes. This also wasn’t the first event you’d been to that Mel had put on, you’d come to one or two as she’d begun her match-making service so you knew the ins and outs pretty well. But getting the same questions over and over was getting old fast.

What do you do for a living?

Where are you from?

What’s your family like?

What’s your perfect date idea?

BOR-ING!

Just once you’d like someone to ask you a real question, something thoughtful instead of the surface questions you’d find on social media.

You couldn’t believe you wore your favorite dress for this nonsense.

The bell dinged once again and the shadow of a new man sat in front of you.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you said not looking up from the device in your hand.

“Come here often?”

“To a dating event? No,” the words were flowing out of your mouth easily. Canned responses for canned questions.

There was a heavy pause, “You seem bored.”

“That’s because I am.”

A muted scoff came from the other side of the table, “What would make it more interesting then?”

A long sigh escaped you as you continued scrolling on your phone, “If someone would ask me a question of substance, maybe I would give them a chance for conversation.”

Again a long stretching silence from the other side and you had to resist rolling your eyes.

“Alright,” he rumbled, leaning back against his chair. “Then what’s one gift you always wish you’d gotten, but never did?”

That had your thumb pausing on the endless scrolling you were doing. Finally, your gaze flicked up and your brain stopped working for a brief moment as you took in the disgustingly attractive man sitting your opposite.

Coffee color hair, and a chiseled jaw dotted with a five o’clock shadow would be enough to make even the most choosy of a woman’s breath catch. He was wearing a bulky leather jacket in a building that was pushing 80 degrees, which was odd but not overly strange.

But oddly enough you felt yourself getting drawn in. Not by his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the dimple in his chin, or even the semi-scowl he wore.

No, it was his eyes. Bright blue soulful eyes, that sparkled a little as he sat across the table from you. Eyes that told a story all their own and drew you out of your scrolling for the first time that night.

Pursing your lips slightly you thought, “Hmm, I’d have to say it’s a puppy.”

His eyebrow arched slightly, clearly surprised by your answer, “A puppy?”

“Sure,” you said with a slight shrug. “A puppy is something I’ve always wanted but never gotten as a gift from anyone other than myself.”

“What kind of puppy?”

“Oh I don’t have a preferred breed,” you informed, tilting your head a little at the odd conversation. “But as a child, it was what I asked for every year as a present. But I never got one.”

His lips turned up in a half smile and you thought you were going to melt in your seat, “Asking for one every year and not getting one, sounds a little disappointing. Was that just a Christmas thing?”

“Nah,” you laughed a little, fingers picking at a little piece of lint on the edge of your dress. “Christmas, birthdays, Easter didn’t matter. If gifts were being given, it was at the top of my list. Every year I’d be running to the tree and picking up presents, looking for one big enough. It’s a running joke with my friends that I’d marry the first man to give me a puppy for Christmas.”

A brisk laugh escaped him, his lips pulled into a charming smile that had nervous butterflies leap up in your chest. “A puppy for Christmas,” he rumbled thoughtfully. “I’ll have to remember that.”

The response made goosebumps prickle along your skin and you held back a shiver, wetting your suddenly dry lips, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s a gift you always wanted but didn’t get,” you paused briefly a coy smile stretching your lips.

His smile turned into a smirk as he once again leaned back in his chair, blue eyes darting back and forth over your face as he thought about it. It was going well, your impish smile growing along with his own. That is until his smile began to fall, bright blue gaze darting a little more frantically over your face before he licked his lips and an unexpected tremor sounded in his voice, “I think, I think it was a sled.”

“A sled,” you asked, leaning forward a little in intrigue. “Like a big plastic one with the handles? Oh no, I got it you’re definitely an inflatable snow tube kind of guy.”

A balk of laughter sounded from him, making hidden laugh lines appear at the corner of his eyes as they brightened with your playful banter. “Nah,” he exclaimed, waving a hand. “More like a wood and metal one. It had bright red skis and a wooden seat top. That sled was all I wanted as a kid.”

An amused giggle slipped from you, “I had a wagon kind of like that as a kid, it was a radio flyer.”

His fingers snapped as he pointed at you with a little bit of excitement, “That’s it! A Radio Flyer sled, with a rope handle and foot steering bar. Though I don’t think I’d ever get one now. I’m a little too old to go sledding down a hill.”

“Age is all about perspective.”

He snorted, “Tell that to my driver's license.”

Genuine laughter bubbled up from inside of you as you leaned forward in your seat, a teasing retort on your lips. Before you could speak, Mellony rang her little handbell and people began to switch places again. But your blue-eyed stranger lingered at your table.

“Talk to you again?”

He sounded, hopeful. “Yeah,” you croaked out pathetically. “Talk to you again.”

You watched as he stood from your table and made his way across the room to his next table while another man took his place at your own. A feeling of disappointment swelled as you lost sight of him in the crowd of people, the feeling intensifying as this new man briefly introduced themselves before launching into a long Tinder-level introduction.

Two more men sat at your table, barely holding your interest outside of normal pleasantries before Mel rang her handbell in rapid succession. “Alright everyone that’s the first round,” she called from her place at the podium. “We’re going to break for thirty minutes. There are hors d'oeuvres and refreshments at the bar. Please feel free to mingle!”

The room of people began to stand and mill around as an uproar of chatter began. Your eyes picked out a couple of men from your group, pairing up with others and heading to the bar. Cordial smiles turned into pleasant touches and sweetheart eyes as they went.

The Cupids Bow Dating Event was a success and you couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride for your friend.

“Hey, Sourpuss,” Melody greeted, looping her arm through yours. “You having fun yet?”

Your mind drifted back to your blue-eyed stranger, “A little.”

“Well, I don’t know if you know this. But the point of speed dating is to, you know, find a date. I was watching you, and you gotta talk to more than one person,” she sassed.

Your mouth turned down to a frown for a brief moment, “I talked to someone.”

“Oh yeah? What was his name.”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times as you realized quickly you’d never even got Mr. Blue-Eyes name, “Shit.”

“What?”

“I didn’t even get Mr. Blue-Eyes name!”

“It’s Bucky.”

Turning around there stood Mr. Blue-Eyes himself, err… you meant Bucky. There was no doubt your embarrassment showed on your face, but the little nervous laugh that slipped out sealed the deal.

Bucky smiled at you, “That is if it’s me you were talking about?”

Wetting your lips you shifted, suddenly nervous before meeting friendly blue eyes, “Yeah,” you squeaked before clearing your throat. “I mean, yes. I’m sorry I missed your name when we talked.”

He was nodding for a brief moment, his eyes darting over towards the bar before taking a few steps closer to you and leaning down. “There’s a restaurant down the street. They’ve got pretty good sushi. You want to get the hell out of here?”

“Oh, my god yes!” The tips of your ears felt hot as you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole but Bucky didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment. Instead, he offered up his right arm and you looped yours into it without hesitation.

Melody’s brow shot up out of surprise, “B-but that was only the first round! There are still two more.”

“I don’t think we need a round two,” Bucky said, the same charming smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and making his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah,” you laughed, in a teasing tone. “This round just might go to Cupid after all.”

Three years later.

Lights twinkled in the living room of your apartment, it was god awful early and you’d carefully planned today. Christmas day and you’d been waiting for this moment for two years now. Quickly and quietly you snuck out of the bedroom where Bucky lay wrapped up in the blankets and made your way to the front closet.

It was hard being sneaky when your boyfriend was a super spy. But after a lot of careful planning, misdirections, and a lot of help from Sam, you’d managed to do it and Bucky was none the wiser.

Tiptoeing towards the hall closet that Bucky never used you opened the squeaky hinged door in just the way so it made no noise. Reaching blindly into the black of the closet you felt around, past the dozen unused coats, jackets, scarves, and hats your hand met the back of the closet wall. Sliding quietly until your fingers brushed the cold metal you were looking for.

Jackpot.

Fingers wrapped around your prize as you gave a firm but gentle tug. A pristine, adult-sized, bright red and creamy wood seat Flex Flyer sled emerged complete with an enormous red bow.

Stifling a giggle you set it down.

“What are you doing?”

A shriek tore out of your throat as you jumped what felt like twenty feet in the air.

“James Barnes,” you scolded, heart beating a million miles an hour. “What have I said about sneaking up on me?”

“You were being sneaky first,” he said, brows drawn together as he tried to look around you. “What you hiding doll face?”

“Nothing!” You lied, spreading your arms and legs to hide your surprise gift.

It was at that moment you heard the vibration from Bucky’s phone clutched in his hand, the man tried to not look sheepish as he not so covertly pressed the silence button.

Suspicion immediately filled you, “Bucky? What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” He shot back, his brow knits in suspicion.

It was a standoff.

The two of you staring each other down in the dark of the hallway in your matching Christmas pajamas. Someone knocking on the front door startled you both before Bucky cursed under his breath, pointing at you, “Don’t follow me.”

His instruction surprised you as he brushed past you in the small hallway. You scoffed under your breath, “You’re in your PJ’s Buck, how far are you going?”

Bucky paused before going around the corner, “I mean it.” There was another soft but hurried knock and he cursed before disappearing.

A tisk of disapproval escaped you, but urgency filled your movements the second he was out of sight. Hands shaking slightly you hurried, pulling the sled out from the closet with as much silence as you could muster before dashing the Christmas tree. Stuffing the sled behind the tree, a few bulbs swinging back and forth as you fumbled to fluff the crumpled bow on Bucky’s surprise.

A cacophony of hushed grumbles and whispers came from the front door, you could have sworn you heard Sam as the door closed with a thunk and the lock turned. In a matter of seconds Bucky was coming around the corner again, an enormous gold box gripped in his hands affixed with a brilliant glittering green bow.

It was clear that Bucky didn’t see you immediately as he juggled the wobbly box and tried to remain quiet as he did so.

“Whatcha, got there?”

Bucky startled, socked feet skidding to a halt just at the corner of the couch as the box wobbled in his hands again. Frustrated and accusatory blue eyes narrowed, “What are you doing in here?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

“What are you doing in here?”

“You better not be shaking presents.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “I’ll have you know I haven’t shaken a present since I was ten. What’s in the box, Jamie?”

Bucky flinched a little, his one weakness was when you called him Jamie. His shoulders sagged a little as his grip on the box tightened, “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Oh I’m surprised,” you said with a laugh. The mantle clock began to ding for the early morning hour. Five AM came so early now. “Do you want to open our gifts now?”

Bucky pursed his lips, body jerking as the box tried to throw itself from his hands. “I think now is best.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the prospect of what the box could contain. But your eyes flitted over to the space behind the tree where you’d stuffed Bucky’s surprise and the anxious feeling grew tenfold as you thought about the question you were going to ask him once he’d seen it.

Clearing his throat Bucky nodded towards the Christmas tree and the traditional present opening space. Dutifully you sat down in the chair, eyes darting over behind the tree to where your gift sat. “Um, mine's not wrapped.”

“That’s alright,” he said, setting the box at your feet as it rattled all on its own now that it was on the floor. “Where is mine and we’ll do them on the count of three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers tapping the edges of your box. “Yours is behind the tree.”

You saw his eyes dart over to the tree and then back down to you, “On three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers poised to rip at the bow on top of the gift. “One.”

“Two,” Bucky echoed, taking a step closer to the tree.

“Three!”

Your fingers began tearing at the bow on top of the gift box as it rattled against the floor. Pushing back the loose gold paper and terrible tape job before, POP!

Two of the most adorable brown eyes you’d ever seen stared up at you. You were stunned for a moment, staring down at the cutest little paws and wet nose you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“OHMYGODAPUPPY!!”

The shrieking sob spilled past your lips as you pulled the squirming pup into your arms, its tiny tongue licking and sniffing all over your face and mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as the little bundle in your arms wiggled, squirmed, and kissed your face everywhere; its bottom wiggling so much they tumbled out of your arms and into your lap.

“Oh my god,” you blubbered, holding the precious little one to you. “Bucky! He’s so cute. Oh, it’s a she. She’s so cute, James. Oh god! Oh my god, I love her so much. I can't—I can’t believe this! This is real right? Do I get to keep her? Bucky?”

Looking up Bucky was angled away from you, the lights of the Christmas tree gleaming off of his arm as he held onto his new sled. His fingers found the tag as he stared at it in the dim lighting. 

He sniffled briefly before he began to read, “Roses are red, violets are blue, do me the—the honor—the honor of spending my life with you?”

Teary blue eyes turned towards you as you held the squirming puppy in your arms. “Doll,” he squeaked out with a sniffle as a few tears began to slip. “You…”

Looking up at him from your seat you reached into the side table drawer pulled out a distinctive black ring box and opened it. Inside, a single simple gold band that had Bucky’s breath catching.

“Will you,” you croaked out, clearing your throat a little more and juggling your new bundle of joy in your arms. “Will you marry me, James Buchanan Barns?”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he lowered the sled to the floor, and then himself. Bucky knelt before you, down on one knee, and reached forward towards the little puppy squirming in your arms. His fingers brushed against a tiny piece of string attached to the bow, you’d missed it but he lifted the dangling object for your inspection. A beautiful golden ring with what had to be the most enormous diamond you’d ever seen.

Your shocked watery gaze met Bucky’s impossibly blue eyes, “Only if you say yes too.”

The puppy leaped down from your lap, content to explore their new apartment as you slid down and onto Bucky’s lap. Arms wrapping around his shoulders and kissing him harder than you ever had before. Warmth blossomed in your chest as Bucky’s lips parted briefly with a light moan, kissing one another with dizzying urgency.

Gasping for air the two of you parted briefly, planting pecking kisses against one another lips.

“Is that a yes,” he husked, his hands sliding up and down your back.

“Yes, it’s a yes, Jamie.”

Grinning up at you, Bucky cradled you against him, “I didn’t know if you’d say yes.”

 “Of course I’d say yes,” you whispered, holding onto him tightly. “After all,  you did get me that puppy I’ve always wanted.”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he held you tightly and buried his face against your chest, his shoulders shaking in what could only be a relief, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Blue-Eyes.”

END

[bellaveux]

hi, are you still taking requests? if yes then i would like to request top! wanda x sub!reader where r was caught touching herself with their recent purchase wand vibrator and wanda decided to let r cums but r has to count 50 to 0. and after every time r cums the count will shorten by 10 but the wand will be increasing up a notch. and at the end wanda decided to finish it by fucking r senseless. please and thank you. 🥺

count for me | w. maximoff

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: wanda comes home and finds her favorite girl playing with that new vibrator she had recently purchased.

content warnings: minors dni. smut; dom!wanda maximoff x sub!reader, pwp, use of toys (vibrator), overstimulation, strap-on sex (r receiving), kinda pervy wanda, rough sex, multiple orgasms, dumbification kinda, praising

wc: 1.9k

She could hear you. The moment she walked through the front door of your shared home. She could hear the way you whimper, whine, and try to muffle your moans—a soft buzzing sound breaking the silence that filled the entire house. The air seemed to be holding its breath as she walked slowly down the hall. The sounds of your pleasure had already started making her dizzy, almost as if she were getting drunk off of it. It had been too quiet when she first arrived home, and you were unusually nowhere to be seen, but the hushed silence faded away when she got closer to her bedroom door. With each step she took, the prettiest moans that fell from your lips got louder and louder, bouncing against the walls and into her ears. When she got close enough, Wanda's measured steps ceased, and a subtle tension filled the air.

The door stood just a crack open, revealing a slender slit of the space inside the room. A soft beam of light filtered through, casting a delicate glow that painted the room in muted hues. Wanda's gaze lingered on the partially open door, and in that suspended moment, curiosity mingled with a gentle sense of trepidation. She took a peak. She couldn’t help it.

The lamp was on. You were there. Laying on the bed you shared with her, writhing, trembling, and quivering with your hand holding that new vibrator Wanda had recently bought for you underneath your panties as you whimpered into the pillow. You looked so pretty. Her sweet girl, moaning her name quietly as you tried so desperately to chase the high of pleasure you were struggling to get. The sight of you made Wanda weak in her knees to the point where she almost just gave out and kneeled down. She composed herself remarkably, and took a deep breath before pushing the door open even more and stepping inside.

You couldn’t see her; your eyes closed shut as you continued to pleasure yourself. And before you could react, you felt a pair of lips press against your neck. You jumped slightly in surprise as Wanda held you down against the mattress.

“Started without me, sweetheart?” She whispered into your neck. You moved slightly, pressing your lips together as you tried to pull the vibrator away from your clit, but Wanda grabbed your wrist and pushed it even harder against your bundle of nerves. “Oh, don’t let me interrupt, baby. Keep going for me.”

“W-Wanda—”

“Tell me, baby. How many times did you come before I came in?” She asked as she left wet, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your neck all the way up to your jaw.

You shuddered at the feeling, your blush only darkening on your cheeks, “O-Once.”

“Is that the truth?”

You nod your head rapidly, eagerly trying to convince her that it is with just your face and doe eyes looking up at her.

“Hmm…” Wanda hummed into your ear. “How about you start counting for me, detka? Fifty to zero. You can do it.”

So you started. Fifty to zero, like she said. You could feel the way Wanda smirked against your chest, nuzzling her face against your breasts, immediately noticing the way your hardened nipples pushed themselves against the fabric of your thin shirt. A hand wraps itself around the wand vibrator, her hand tracing over the buttons softly. You were on forty-five, continuing to count as best as you could as Wanda guided the vibrator against your clit.

“Come for me, baby?” She said as you whimpered into her hair.

And you couldn’t help but obey, the sound of her voice ringing in your ears. You shuddered as you came, letting go of the wand to wrap your arms loosely around Wanda’s frame as she hovered over you.

“Again. Start on thirty five, sweetheart.”

And you tried, “T-Thirty—Ah!”

With a click of a button, Wanda turned the vibrator’s intensity up and pressed it even harder against you. You shook underneath her with your mouth open, unable to say anything. She smiled against your cheek before moving to press her lips against yours, shoving her tongue into your mouth as you moaned against her.

She pulled away after a moment of kissing you and smirked, “Count, baby.”

You counted. And counted and counted. All while it kept buzzing. It was faster now. Much, much faster. The wand, your pleasure on the rise, Wanda hovering over you as she watched you. Starting from thirty-five, you made it all the way to twenty-one before you fell apart and came underneath her all over again. Wanda groaned when you cried her name out, coming for the third time tonight. Eventually, your eyes teared up as she continued to hold the vibrator against your cunt without giving you a chance to catch your breath.

Then, she turned it up all the way to its maximum speed.

You squealed and desperately tried to push her hand away as you cried her name out like a prayer. “W-Wanda! Wanda, I-I can’t–”

“Yes, you can. You’re my big girl, aren’t you?” She said, holding you still as you quivered and tried to close your legs shut, practically trapping her hand in between your legs. “Count again, baby. From ten.”

You sobbed against her shoulder. It was too much pleasure. You couldn’t think. You almost couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t stop shaking. And Wanda just smiled at you, kept telling you how good you were doing. So, you kept counting. For her. You tried, at least. With your best effort, you made it to zero, but you came all over again, your slick gushing on the vibrator and Wanda’s hand. She pulled the wand away from your puffy pussy, turning it off, then throwing it to the other side of the bed, and you sighed in relief. A smirk graced her lips as you looked up at her, green eyes staring down at you with pride. God, you were perfect. Her pretty baby. You tried to catch your breath in the meantime before Wanda leaned down to capture your lips with hers, her hands softly smoothing over your legs.

Wanda pulled away to catch her breath. She looked at you with hungry eyes, carefully inspecting all of your features. Stray pieces of hair matted to your forehead as sweat dribbled down your temples. The way your chest rose and fell quickly. The way your hands gripped onto her own shirt. Your legs still quivering. A tiny smile lingering on your lips as you looked at her. Fuck, was all she could think.

Before you could say anything, Wanda pulled back and stepped away.

“Wanda?” You breathed, too tired to move from your spot on the bed.

Under the dim lighting of the lamp on your side table, Wanda suddenly came into your view after hiding in the shadows but immediately leaned down to kiss you once more. She swallowed your whimpers and your quiet moans before flipping you onto your stomach in a swift movement. The kisses she littered against your neck and back were soft as she held you down with her hands pushing you slightly against the mattress.

“Stay still for me, detka.” She whispered from behind you, her whole front pressing against your back.

The first thing you felt were her fingers playing with the hem of your panties, moving them to the side, exposing your already glistening pussy to her. She is too impatient to undress you properly. For a moment, you thought you heard her chuckle, but you could barely think already. She palms your ass a few times before you feel the tip of something hard and big against your cunt. Wanda didn’t give you a second to even ask, slipping her strap into you with ease. Your moan fills the room, louder than all of the whimpers you were letting out just a moment before.

“W-Wanda–”

“Can’t get enough of you, (Y/n),” she groaned, as she slowly thrust her strap into you.

And with the sound of your muffled moans against the pillow and the sight of your hands gripping the sheets, Wanda’s pace didn’t remain gentle for too long. She quickly sped up her thrusts, using your hips to balance herself. Nothing but sweet words of praise left her mouth as she fucked her strap in and out of you.

“Taking me so fucking well, baby. God, look at you. So pretty getting all fucked out by me, huh?”

Among all the mindless praise Wanda whispered into your ear, she straightened her back to admire you beneath her, getting high off of the way you cried her name out as she continued to fuck you. Her hand pulls the flesh of your ass cheek slightly over, watching the way her strap sank into your gushing hole, her length glistening each time she pulled out. Wanda can’t help but roll her eyes to the back of her head as she listens to the way your pussy squelches each time she bottoms out. You always looked so pretty to her, even more so when you’re taking her cock like the good girl you are. And with her name rolling off your tongue like you couldn’t even think about anything else, fuck, you were perfect.

When Wanda thrusts into you one last time, you clench hard, gushing all over her strap. She can feel the way your cum coats her lower half, and she stops for a moment, just to feel the warm, clear liquid running down her tummy and her thighs, feeling as the cold air hits them, leaving her wet and sticky. It wasn’t the first time she made you squirt, but each time she does, she always takes a second. To admire you. Her dumb baby trembling underneath her. How proud of you she was.

“Fucking hell, (Y/n)…”

Wanda leans over, pressing her front against your back as you feel the way her breasts squished against you. You can feel her hair brushing up against your neck and shoulders as she left gentle and soothing kisses against your skin and shoulders. Her hands palmed your hips softly, almost as if she was trying to calm your trembling legs.

Honestly, you didn’t really have the energy to say anything else but her name, “Wanda…”

“I’m here, baby,” you heard her say. “Did so good for me, you know?”

Wanda listened to you hum in satisfaction. She pulls out of you very slowly and carefully before flipping you onto your back. You felt her kiss your lips briefly before she disappeared again to discard her strap and grab a rag to clean you up.

This part was one of Wanda’s favorites. The gradual descent from the high she had you chase over and over and over. The warmth of her palm adorns the side of your face, her thumb smoothing over your cheekbone as your eyelids began to feel heavier with each second that passed. You try to keep your eyes open, just to see your lover staring down at you, still with those dark and lustful eyes. But they were also warm. And sincere.

Wanda rolls her lips onto themselves as if she were trying to bite back a smile. She tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear before leaning down to place the most gentle kiss she could ever give you, muttering those three little words softly against your lips.

— navigation!

[glorystark]

Mr Barnes | teacher!Bucky Barnes x student!reader

Summary: Your English English teacher finally finds out why you’ve been failing your classes and he isn’t disappointed.

Warning: TEACHER X STUDENT, smut, age gap (reader is like 22 and Bucky like 30), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (don’t do this), language

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

You entered the class sighing hoping that he wouldn’t come today. You didn’t see him the whole day which was a good sign that he hadn’t come to school today. You took your seat which was in front of his desk which didn’t help the anxiety rushing through you. It’s not like you didn’t like your English teacher, no it was quite the opposite. It wasn’t easy to be taught by a hot college teacher who you assumed was about ten years older than you. You are always distracted by him and constantly the thoughts of him inside you, that you can’t even concentrate on the lesson anymore. You knew it was wrong but you just couldn’t get rid of the feeling.

You hoped someone would walk in the classroom, telling everyone that your teacher wouldn’t be here today, but all your hopes were ruined when Mr Barnes stepped into the room closing the door behind him, slightly smiling at everyone. He took his seat and said good morning which you all answered back as well.

”Alright guys before we start today’s lesson, I need to talk about your last test and your grades. This class is divided into three groups. There is group one with amazing grades and great participation in class, there is group two with good grades and ok participation in class and then there is group three, which well pretty much sucks” He chuckled and everyone laughed.

You already knew in which group you were. You weren’t a bad student at all, in fact you were a great student. But you sucked in English and he was the only reason why.

“Now” he said as he rose his hand to run it through his soft looking hair and his long fingers slipped between the strands. You imagine your own hand in his hair while he his fingers move in and out of you furiously. Just thinking about it you could feel the wetness between your legs, you squeezed your thighs harshly gritting your teeth. “here are the results.”

He started handing the papers out and as he handed you your paper, he smiled softly and his fingers brushed against yours making you jump slightly which made him frown.

“You alright miss Y/L/N?”he asked kindly

“ Y-yeah I'm fine.” you stuttered, he nodded his head walking off.

The rest of class was practically torture. You desperately trying to push away some certain thoughts while he was talking. You tried your best to concentrate but failed miserably, like always. When the bell finally rang you were one of the firsts to stand up and made your way towards the door until Bucky called your name.

“Hmm Y/N can you stay for a bit, there is something we need to discuss about.” you mumbled a 'ok' turning around, cursing in your head knowing you were in trouble because of your grades. You waited until the class was cleared out and once it was Bucky closed the door and walked over to you.

“ Y/N” the way he said your name made your core throb and you gripped the edge of the nearest table tightly. “I have been noticing your participation in my class hasn't been so great lately and your grades...” he slightly shook his head. “Is there any problem I can help you with? It's really surprising that your grades in my class are failing even though you are such a great student. I talked to your other teachers and English seems to be your only problem.”

You didn't know how to respond, I mean what are you supposed to say ' I'm sorry I can't stop thinking about you fucking me hardly on your table till I can't walk and that's why I'm failing your class.'

“You know you can tell me what's wrong, I can help you out.“ You know he can but he’s definitely are not thinking about the same solution as you. His eyes bore into yours as you let out a soft pant. “Tell me.”That's when you noticed you were standing closer than before.

“It's nothing Mr- Mr Barnes, I have been a bit distracted lately that's i-it.”

“ I can help you if you want, extra classes?” he said as he placed his hand on your shoulder and his hot washed over you which caused you to let out a small whimper. You slightly widened and bit your lip. You noticed a darker shade of his blue eyes and you knew he understood what was really going on.

“ I should l-leave.” you tried to make your way towards the door but he grabbed your hand. “Y/N you are not going anywhere right now.”

“But Mr Barnes-“

He cut you off by placing his lips on yours making you widen your eyes, again. His big hands gripped your waist and he pushed you against the wall, his lips moving hungrily against mine. You gripped the front of his shirt tightly, pulling him against you, your tongues battling with each other. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him into you further.

He pulled away for a moment, his teeth into your bottom lip before letting go. You were both panting slightly looking at each other with lustful eyes. You couldn't believe your everyday fantasy was actually happening.

“ I should have known it was me.” he slowly ran fingers along your jaw. “the reason why you are doing so bad at my class.”

He leaned in smirking, his hot breath washing over your ear, his hands squeezed your breasts lightly over your t-shirt as his tongue flicked across the shell of your ear.

“Tell me doll have you ever imagined this before?”

His lips slowly made their way to your neck and he made sure they brush every part of your skin on their way. He started sucking a bruise onto your skin and you let out a moan, finally being able to run your hands through his hair.

“ Because I have.” he mumbled into your skin, surprising you with his words. “ I have imagined you like this so many times, pushed against the wall looking at me with those eyes.” His hands slid down your torso under your skirt and he skimmed his fingers across the silky material of your panties. You moaned, bucking your hips ever so slightly into his hands. “I have noticed you sometimes biting while staring at me with those eyes but I didn’t expect you were thinking like that.” he let out a soft chuckle “Tell me doll have you ever touched yourself with the images of me in your head ?” his fingers played with the edge of the crotch of your panties.

“Mr Barnes please-“

“Bucky.”

“ Yes Bucky I have, please touch me.” You begged desperately making him smirk.

His fingers pushed aside the material and skimmed across your clit. You gasped and pushed your hips forward, wanting him to push his fingers deep inside you.

“So wet?” he asked, making a 'tsk' sound with is tongue. You let out a gasp as his thumb began rubbing your clit in a circular motion. And without any warning pushing two fingers into your throbbing core making you moan loudly.

“Now doll I would love to hear you scream but we can’t have anyone find us.”

You nodded gripping his shoulders, wanting to feel his bare skin beneath your palms. You undid the buttons of his shirt with some difficulty and placed your hands on his bare chest.

“Fuck” you mewled, as his the speed of his fingers increased. He grinned, and curved his fingers to hit a spot that sent made you arch into him, your mouth falling open as you cried out. His hand covered your mouth. “Shhhh” he softly whispered.

You moaned as softly as you could as his actions continued to send bursts of pleasure shooting through every nerve in your my body, and you desperately bucked your hips against his, wanting to cum so bad.

“You close doll?” He asked looking deeply into your eyes. “Are you gonna cum on my fingers?” You could only nod knowing you can’t make any sounds at the moment.

“Let go, cum for me.”

“Bucky I- fuck I-“

“Do it.” He said, his fingers moving with incredible speed and your stomach clenched as your hands slid to his back under the shirt, and you held on to him for dear life.

So you did. Bucky’s hand covered your mouth again as you moaned against it, bucking your hips as you came, your toes curling, your eyes rolling back into your head, and his name falling from your lips along with a few profanities. He pulled his fingers out of you and you sighed, your head falling onto his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath. You could feel his erection in his jeans resting against your thigh. He took your chin on two fingers and made you look up at him.

“Satisfied?” He took your chin in his hand.

“Not until you fuck me.” You said as you removed his shirt completely. He smirked letting you reach for the buttons of his pants. You pulled them down along with his boxers, making his erection spring free. He groaned softly at the freedom, and you felt my eyes widen at his size.

“Surprised?” He asked ironically but you didn’t answer.

“Fuck.Me.”

That’s all he needed to hear to remove your t-shirt and skirt. Then he took your hand and let you to his desk, lifting you up so you were sitting on it. He placed his hands on either side of you and kissed you roughly, his tongue slipped between your lips and tangling with your own. You whimpered slightly and he pulled away.

“You are so beautiful.” He smiled sweetly at you before gently taking off your bra and panties, his hands brushing against your skin, sending chills all over your body.

He took his cock in his hand, pumping it slowly. He hissed and his brow furrowed.He spread your legs apart positioning himself at your entrance, he slowly pushed in, taking his time to fill you in, making sure you adjusted well.

You both hissed as he settled within you and he took one breast in his mouth, he began moving. You gripped the back of his neck as he sucked harshly on your nipple, while massaging the other breast with his large hand. His skin slapped against yours and you cried out softly, chanting and moaning his name as every part of your body came alive with pleasure. Your nerves were on fire and your my mind empty of every rational and coherent thought, Bucky taking over your very being. His thrusts were fast and hard, and he was grunting against your skin as he kissed you, your neck, sucked on your collarbone, your breasts and let his hands all over your body.

“Damn it, you're so tight” he panted, his mouth hanging open. “Fuck, this is better than every time I imagined it.”

So he really did think of you like this too. The very thought made you gasp and you tightened your grip on him, purring in his ear.

Bucky’s thrusts were becoming irregular and sloppy, and you felt the familiar knot in your stomach yet again. Your moans and movements were becoming more desperate as you wheeled closer and closer to the edge, and you kissed each other roughly to hold your loud screams in. What you were experiencing was hot and raw, full of a passion and hunger that took your breath away, something you’d never experienced in your entire life.

“I'm gonna cum-“ he gasped. “Yes, fuck, yes.”

Bucky’s cock twitched inside you and he cried out slightly louder than he should have, as he shot ropes of white hot cum within you, moaning your name andgrunting and swearing and goddamn, it was everything you’d imagined, except a thousand times better. His face was red, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, sweat beading on his forehead, his hair a mess, lips swollen, eyes rolled back in pleasure and his mouth forming a perfect ‘o', soft pants and your name coming out of his mouth. You knew you weren’t reacting any different, just moaning his name. But he didn’t stop after he came, making sure to send you over the edges too and just a few seconds later you tried your best to not scream too loudly while you came for the second time, this time around his cock.

He pulled out of you and you whimpered at the loss of his cock within you. He dropped to his knees, and gripped you thighs tightly, forcing your legs apart. His tongue furiously attacked your clit, sucking and nibbling ever so lightly on it occasionally, you squealed and wound your fingers in his hair, snuggling his mouth further into your core. Your thighs tried to clamp themselves shut around his face but he forced them apart with his hands, and you came for the third time that afternoon. You panted and cried his name, your hands tightening in his hair as you thrusted my crotch into his mouth, and his tongue continued its work till you were spent.

He pulled away and stood up as you came back down floating from your incredible high, breathing hard. He kissed you, but this time it was softer, gentler, less urgent. He pulled away and you saw his eyes were back to the sparkling blue they really were, and his smile was light but genuine. He stroked your cheek with his thumb once before dropping his hand and walking away to retrieve you clothes. You put them on in silence, and your mind was whirling with what had just gone down. You’d had sex with your teacher, and if someone found out, you could get into endless amounts of trouble. So could he. It was so wrong, but you didn't remember feeling this amazing in a long time. It might be wrong but it felt right.

“ So” he said, breaking the silence. “ I think I should apologize for being such a distraction for you. Not my intention.” He turned to smile at you, one end of his mouth curling upwards. You insides warmed up as the smile lit up his face and your heart melted.

” I think you sort of made up for it.” you mumbled shyly, straightening your hair with your fingers.

“ Hey how do you feel about Saturday going out with me for Coffee.”

“Mr Barnes-“

“Bucky”

“Bucky, if we go out people may see us together and we can’t risk that..”

His face fell but he still smiled slightly and you immediately felt bad. “ You are right, I could lose my job and you could lose your education, I’m sorry for asking.”

You felt terrible but smiled back and walked towards the door placing your hand on the door knob.

"Wait Y/N.” he said, and you froze. “Er, if you come over to my house, I could make you lunch or something. And that way, we don't have to worry about people seeing us.”

You smiled, but your heart went into overdrive at his words. The thought of being alone with him, in his house.

"I mean, only if you want to..." he said, and in his voice, you could sense that he was already thinking you’d refuse. So you turned around and smiled at him.

"That sounds okay." You nodded and Bucky smiled.

"Great." He said, grinning. “See you tomorrow, Miss Y/L/N . Don't be late for class or I may have to call you to stay back once more."

“ I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.” You smirked before getting out of the classroom ignoring the butterflies in your stomach…

[marvelouttakes]

THEY ARE THE SAME

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

Nights at the Circus: Part XVI

You decide to take a “sabbatical” from both the Avengers and Loki in order to lower your anxiety, but while your vacation gives you the time to clear your mind, some new arrivals at the Tower force you to return early. Meanwhile, of course Loki is missing the Hel out of you, at least until he realizes someone *else* might need him more...

SERIES MASTERLIST

Content Warning: masturbat!on; implications of torture (not detailed) Word Count: 3k

Loki memorized your note after reading it only three times. Your handwriting was rough but legible, as if you could do better but was scribbling your thoughts down in a rush. After he was through with it, he burned it was a small spark of green.

He knew why you left, and that you weren’t intending to end your love affair without a lengthy discussion. Still, the fact that yet another important person in his life chose to walk out on him was bringing old insecurity to the surface, and now that Steve thought he was an enemy, and Thor thought he was a nut, he had no one to talk to at all.

Not that he really wanted to. All of his thoughts ran to you, where you were going, whether you’d be safe, and whether he wanted to take the risk and seek you out like he had before in Sokovia. After hours of wavering back and forth, he decided that using seidr was a big factor in your fight, so using it now would’ve made things worse.

Four days into your leave, Loki had yet to emerge from his bedroom. Depression reached even Frost Giant minds, and it was one of Loki’s own demons, though even Thor didn’t know this. On the fourth afternoon, he was in the shower, thinking on you and palming himself (although it was difficult to keep focus when his thoughts of you were constantly interrupted by ones of self-deprecation).

Two weeks, you had her. Then you had to go and blurt it all out for your own selfish reasons, and now you could lose her, Loki scolded himself as he stepped out of the shower. All he wanted was for everyone to know that you were his and he was yours.

Though he wouldn’t admit to it, Loki’s area of expertise was in the sexual side of things. He’d had enough lovers to start an army, but precious few of them held his romantic gaze after their clothes were back on. Maybe twice or three times on Asgard did he pledge romantic fidelity (here on Midgard the term was ‘going steady’) to one person. Most of the time, things would just fall apart on their own, or Loki was sent away, or hi partner decided there was too much complication in being the partner of a royal.

In the moment he attempted to come clean in front of Steve, all he was thinking of was himself and how he could finally get that patriotic gibbon off of his shoulder. Luckily, he took Loki’s words for mockery, and all was still hidden, but without you confirming his admission, Loki knew he had just received extra probationary terms: make any waves whatsoever and consider yourself headless.

He felt terrible when he realized that, basically, this was Steve’s fault. Steve and his hero complex, not to mentioned his one-sided crush on you. “Maybe the lout needs to fuck a woman and he’ll get off our backs,” Loki muttered to himself. “Has he ever been with anyone? One dancer in 1943 doesn’t exactly satisfy the loins after eighty years.”

Not that it mattered. What was done in the moment was done, and for whatever reasons either of them had, it was both Loki and Steve that had driven you off.

“Y/N, I hope you’re thinking on me as I am of you,” Loki whispered, walking back onto the bedroom thoughtlessly, dripping wet, naked, and fully erect.

In his mind, Loki wove a rich tapestry of sexual fantasy, most of them involving you squirming under his hips, bound and gagged and soaked between your legs. He couldn’t resist adding flames to your image. The other night, during your rooftop date, when you caused the ice on Loki’s arm to melt, he learned that the counteracting warmth from your skin felt like sweet, soft splendor on his frozen body. He wanted more of it.

“Firebird,” he mumbled under his breath as he laid down on his bed and took himself into his hand again, stroking himself firmly, closing his eyes to paint the more vivid picture of you, licking your lips, hungry for his cock.

The image of you began lowly moaning and cooing, calling Loki’s name desperately, making him move his hand up and down his shaft faster and faster. His orgasm was building in his loins, seconds from release, when a sudden, unexpected knock in the door stopped him in his tracks.

“Rudolph?” called Stark from the other side of the door. Loki quickly threw on a robe and went to answer.

“Hey, Bambi,” Stark said, a hint of urgency in his voice. “Congratulations, you’ve been granted temporary leave to use magic.”

Loki didn’t expect to hear this, and quickly brought his erection down as his first legal use of seidr (since using it to trap you the first time he’d met you at the circus), hoping Tony didn’t notice. “Oh? Is the world ending at last?”

Stark grunted. “Stop quipping, Joker, there’s no time,” he responded. “We’ve got two enhanced kids that were rescued from Hydra, and they’re not very easy to deal with. We need all magic on deck to handle them, Lokes. This is DEFCON-1.”

Loki nodded and sprung into action, quickly making some appropriate clothes appear on his body and following Stark downstairs to a place Loki knew well: the magic-proof containment cell he’d been imprisoned in after he’d committed his transgressions against the Earth. It had a similar design to the one he’d also seen the inside of in the aircraft carrier, only instead of releasing its captive into the air below, attempting to open it resulted in a lethal shocking. The room gave Loki a chill, but upon seeing who was within, all of his misgivings disappeared.

He knew her immediately as the witch in Sokovia who had rendered you under a spell that even he couldn’t recognize. She didn’t look so powerful now. Instead, she looked disheveled and sad, unable to do so much as produce a spark. The helplessness in her eyes pulled at Loki’s heartstrings, and he realized that no matter how well he could conceal his feelings or project images of contentment around him, he likely looked the same when he was in her place.

“All we know is her name is Wanda-something. She has a brother named Pietro. He’s a real Speedy Gonzales, so he’s being kept in another tank away from her. She seems to be able to produce big blasts of energy, and she tried to send me hallucinations as we crammed her in here. None of us feel like we can handle magic the way you can,” Stark explained. “Just know that once we get her handled, you turn back into Cinderella and the magic stops, got it?”

“So, my job is to guard her like a prisoner?” Loki asked.

“She is a prisoner,” Stark corrected him. “We’ve got a lot of work to do before we can trust her to lift a pencil without our permission.”

Loki sighed. Sometimes this place reminded him of a zoo, and now he was becoming one of the zookeepers, which felt wrong. He thought back to when he was in here before, as he was ‘deprogrammed’ by the UN. He felt his empathy take over his body, hurting him deep in his core.

He bit his lip. “You’re deprogramming them, then,” he said quietly, images of bright lights, interrogations, painful tests, and even worse mental games in the name of ‘safety’ flashing before his mind’s eye.

“Sad, but what else can we do? It’s a fact of life, Reindeer Games. Maybe if you tell her to cooperate with us, we won’t have to get too messy.”

Stark sighed and walked away, leaving Loki in front of the tank. He swallowed as Wanda looked up at him with a defiant scowl on her face, her teeth gritted and her eyes intense with anger.  He shook his head and gently put his palm against the glass. 

Don’t worry, little one. No one took care of me, but I will take care of you…

--------------------------------------------------------------

The town you’d found a nice little beachside cabin to relax in was so small that you couldn’t recall its name. It only had a small grocery, a medical plaza, and a few small cafes dotting the main street. There wasn’t even a traffic light or a gas station. It reminded you of Willoughby from The Twilight Zone: idyllic, tiny, with the promise of stress relief so complete that you’d jump off a train to find it.

The cabin was owned by a retired couple, the Maxsons, who were sweet enough to visit you for a small time every day, asking if everything was to your liking. You always lied to them and said it was. Not that the place itself wasn’t adorable and peaceful, just as you’d wanted, but with your relationship with Loki in unstable territory, letting go entirely was nearly impossible.

Every night, after you were sure the Maxsons were asleep and unlikely to drop by, you stripped naked and went to swim in the ocean, letting the cold water quench your fiery thoughts. You floated about under the moon, which was just short of being full the night you arrived and was now fully formed four nights later, illuminating the sky. You had no need for any candles or lights. Of course, whenever you turned in for the evening, you masturbated furiously at the memories of your times rolling around with Loki, skin pressed against skin, his massive cock against your clit...

As you backstroked in the calm, still water, you wished Loki were swimming beside you. You could picture how his hair would spread out under the surface, a halo of black about his face, his wet, defined chest reflecting the blue glow of the moon.

The past few days had been wonderful for clearing your head, but you didn’t expect what else living in this tiny seaside hamlet did for you: showed you what life could have been like had you never come into your gift. During the days, you explored the town, found a few tiny shops you enjoyed browsing in, drank iced tea on the porch of your cabin and watched the sky turn indigo over the ocean horizon.

Had my parents not insisted I hide myself in the circus, would I have found a place like this?

You didn’t believe in alternate realities and multiverses, but perhaps if they were real, there was a universe where you lived here permanently, no Lokis or Steves or magic powers interrupting your day-to-day existence. Or, maybe there was one where you lived here with Loki, where the UN left him alone and trusted him with you, leaving the pair of you to have a simple but satisfying life.

The water enveloping your body now was helping your emotions turn steady, allowing your head to fully clear, making you see a fuller picture at last: if you love someone, it shouldn’t matter what else was going on around you, drama or otherwise.

Maybe I should be open about Loki with the others. He was right, Steve would finally get it through his thick head, you thought.

And Steve. Oh, Stevie Boy, what to do with him?

There was no doubt the man was sincere in his affection for you, but his naturally-alpha personality, while hidden behind a wall of old-school reverence for women, still meant he lacked a full understanding of the modern female, and in that lack of understanding came some inherent sexism that he still needed to work on.

Like the fact that he didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer the first time, even though he said he would, you said to yourself.

Still, you didn’t want to burn that bridge. Steve still had a lot to him that you liked and even admired: his self-sacrificing nature, his leadership skills, and while the man was clueless about many social cues, he was a pretty fun man to be around when he let down his tough exterior. I do still want to be his friend. Maybe he could be a brother to me in the way that my actual brothers never were.

Even so, getting to that point was either going to take a LOT of subtle mental maneuvering…or you could’ve affirmed Loki’s confession as legitimate and none of this conflict would have started in the first place.

No, don’t gaslight yourself, you reminded your brain. It was HIS choice to bound down the hall like a gorilla.

“HEY! Y/N!”

You began to hear the cried of Mrs. Maxson summoning you from the shore, which was odd at this hour.

“I’m skinny-dipping!” You warned, closing in on the shore but keeping everything below your collarbone concealed out of respect for the older woman.

“Y/N, you’ve got a call from New York! It sounds like it’s really important!”

Thus, with a single phone call, your vacation was ended. Damn, they really do own me, you thought sadly. Guess I’ll have to think of what I can say to Loki on the train back. I just hope he forgives me.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Nick Fury and Bruce Banner were escorting you up to the containment chamber seven hours later, just as the sun was beginning to rise. You were barely awake from your semi-sleep on the Amtrak.

You kept looking around for Loki as you were taken back into the bowels of Avengers Tower. You couldn’t see him anywhere, but then again, or could you see anyone else: Steve, Nat, or Thor. As much as you wanted to ask Fury where your paramour was waiting, you knew that even if it wouldn’t have instantly outed you, there were more important things to worry about in the moment. Loki would have to wait.  

“She was there in Sokovia a few weeks ago when we were there,” Bruce explained. “We found her and her brother trying to infiltrate us to get the scepter back. He’s not giving us too much trouble, he just asks for her all the time. She, on the other hand, ten times more willful than you were.”

You shrugged. You’d put up a fight when you were first ‘brought in,’ but you’d only spent one night in the tank, and in the morning your psychiatric evaluations proved that you were less of a threat and more just upset at your sudden lot.

“And how did you get them both contained?” you asked curiously.

“It wasn’t easy. In fact, we got the UN to lift Loki’s magic restrictions for one month,” said Fury.

Your heart skipped a beat. This was amazing news! Maybe once the UN saw that Loki was trustworthy, they’d let him keep his seidr, and that would be one less thing to stress over later, when you were planning to ride him raw to make up for the last four days of separation.

“So, if she was at the fight in Sokovia, how come I didn’t see her?” you asked.

“She seems to be able to inject hallucinations into our heads,” Bruce explained. “Did you happen to find yourself somewhere else for a second while you were there? Somewhere that didn’t feel right?”

You stopped in your tracks, your face going white, your blood running cold. Immediately, the image of the circus below you, Loki and Steve advancing on you atop the trapeze platform, getting ready to shove you over the edge while the crowd chanted excitedly for your death.

“I’d say from the looks of that, that’s a yes,” Fury said.

“I was on the North Tower, Stark had just left me to breech the barrier—”

“—yes?” asked Fury.

You shook your head, trying to dust the memory from your mind. “I don’t like her.”

Bruce chuckled. “I can understand that, but it doesn’t matter anyway, because—”

“—no, if she’s the one that showed me that horrible place,” your voice began to weaken with fear. “If she was the one who did that to me, I don’t want her around.”

“She’s got to stay here. She’s entirely too dangerous if she’s allowed to stay rogue,” Fury informed you.

“You weren’t the only one, just so your know,” Bruce added. “Stark swears he saw something too, although he won’t talk about it.”

You sighed and made a mental note to ask him about it later. Maybe putting your visions together would help you learn something important about this invader.

“She and her brother wanted the scepter?” you asked. “They are from Hydra, then?”

Fury nodded. “They have a history with attempting to collect and modify individuals. Steve had a companion die at their hands.”

You felt a pang of sympathy for him in the moment. Maybe that was why you didn’t seem to see him around. You’d suspected he’d be the one trying to run this whole operation.

“I still don’t like it,” you said quietly.

Fury nodded. “Yeah, well things are already looking up a little bit, thanks to Loki of all people.”

“Loki? What’s he done?” you asked, you ears perking up like a cat’s at the mention.

The three of you entered the large room containing the chamber. You could see the ragged, wretched girl sitting inside, her palm pressed against the glass in response to someone on the other side doing the same. They were muttering in hushed tones. Her conversation partner was Loki, kneeling down on the ground beside her, the glass separating them. He couldn’t hear you arriving, and thus, had no idea you clearly saw him devoting his attention to another.

You felt everything inside your core solidify and sink into your bowels. Your hair burst into blue flames.  Well, Loki, it may have taken us four weeks to start something, but it took your four days to replace me! Clearly, he’d made the decision to move on without you, just as he’d made the decision to try and out you before.

Banner explained. “For some reason, she talks to him. I think they have a thing for each other. He hasn’t left her side since she arrived.”

You bit your lip. “Well, seeing as he clearly has it under control, I see no reason why you plucked me away from my respite, and I’ll be in my room setting things on fire!”

You stormed away just before Loki looked up, only seeing Fury and Banner looking perplexed in the doorway.

“Was it something I said?” asked Banner. -------------------------------------------------------------------------

@el-zef @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @michelleleewise @mochie85 @toozmanykids @xorpsbane @huntress-artemis @itsybitchylittlewitchy @the-fantasy-loving-angel​ @moonlightreader649​

[huggingkoalas]

caught you

pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader

synopsis natasha comes home to find an intruder in her house. the encounter takes an unexpected turn as authority gives way to desire.

word count 2.5k

warnings smut, roleplay, spanking, use of strap-ons, cockwarming, gunplay(?), ‘mommy’ kink, subspace/headspace, cursing, degradation, praising, teasing, pet names, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha

author’s note phew i might've gone too crazy for my first natasha romanoff fic, oops? hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it <3

navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me

As Natasha reached into her pocket, her fingers found the familiar shape of her keys. She unlocked the door to her house with the key, the weariness in her muscles evident as she used more force than usual. She yearned for nothing more than to take a soothing bath and a well-deserved night of sleep after a long day of doing post-mission briefings and reports at the Avengers compound.

As she stepped through the wooden frame and gently closed the door behind her, she effortlessly kicked off her boots and let them fall to the side. She slipped her black leather jacket off her shoulders and laid it temporarily over the back of the sofa. She yawned and massaged her right shoulder with her left arm, groaning as she pressed on the sensitive spot.

It had been another exhausting day. Despite her love for her job as an Avenger, she had to admit that the long missions and overwhelming workload had begun to take its toll on her. The only positive aspect of her job was the joy she brought to children’s faces every time they saw her and called her ‘my favourite hero’. Furthermore, Natasha earned more than enough money to buy a house away from the compound. As much as she liked her team, she favoured the peace of being alone after a long day.

Lost in her thoughts about work, she suddenly felt the cold night breeze whisper against her skin. A moment of confusion etched on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed as she realized the patio doors leading to her backyard were ajar, casting a shadow on the hardwood floors.

Had I forgotten to close it?

I swear I closed it before I left the house.

Natasha walked towards the patio door, closed it and turned the lock firmly. She was not the type to forget things easily. She couldn’t get rid of the persistent feeling that something wasn’t right.

Just as she was about to turn away from the patio door, she noticed a trail of muddy footprints leading into the house from the backyard. Her heart dropped as she realized someone had broken into her home while she was gone. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the intruder in the home with her at the very moment. With careful and silent steps, she traced the trail of prints with her eyes, leading her down the hallway.

Natasha slowly reached behind her back and pulled out her pistol from its concealed position in her waistband. Her mind raced, and adrenaline surged through her veins. Wrapping both her hands around the grip, her index finger rested on the trigger guard, pointing the gun at a slightly downward angle. 

She mentally prepared herself for any potential confrontation. She took a deep breath, her senses heightened, and cautiously continued to follow the muddy footprints. The trail led her to her master bedroom, the door firmly closed.

With her back pressed against the adjacent wall, Natasha listened intently for any movement beyond the door. She closed her eyes, straining her ears for any sound. A faint and muffled shuffling sound barely reached her ears. Just as she was open about to the door, she took a long breath, steeling herself for what lay beyond her.

“Freeze!” She called out, pushing the door open with a swift turn of the doorknob. Her voice was authoritative and firm as she stared at the intruder, her hands maintaining a firm grip on the pistol. 

Realization flashed across her face momentarily as she recognized the intruder’s face, though she masked it well. Caught off guard, you looked up with widened eyes as you saw Natasha pointing a gun at you. You raised your hands in mock surrender, standing tall with your head held high.

“It’s not what it looks like.” You tried to explain, steadying your nerves.

“Put your hands behind your back, now.” Natasha commanded, her tone unwavering as she ignored your attempts at explaining yourself.

You slowly lowered your hands and placed them behind your back. You didn’t seem daunted by the situation in the least. Natasha maintained a stern expression, lowering her pistol and holstering it back in her waistband. 

She stepped forward, her expression hinting at a momentary diversion of her thoughts. The dim light from the window accentuated your features, and she found herself momentarily captivated by your beauty. Her gaze lingered for an extra beat. She couldn’t deny that you looked mesmerizing and absolutely ravishing.

“What’s your name?” Natasha inquired, her tone assertive but curious.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” Natasha repeated. “You don’t seem afraid at all.”

She stopped in front of you. As you subtly shifted your stance, your hair cascaded gracefully over one shoulder, giving her a whiff of your sweet vanilla perfume. Tension lingered between you as you met her gaze through lowered lashes. 

Your eyes briefly travelled down, and you couldn’t help but notice a bulge between Natasha’s pants. A subtle swallow and a discreet bite of your bottom lip betrayed the mutual awareness of the heightened tension. You could see the impressive girth outlined through her pants. Her breath hitched as she saw the lust and need reflecting in your eyes.

“Face the wall.” Natasha ordered, ignoring the tension between the both of you.

A smile on your lips formed as an idea appeared in your head. You stepped closer to her, leaving no space between you two. You turned around, with your hands still behind your back, leaning back to press your ass to her groin.

“Guess you’ll have to arrest me like this, miss...?” You glanced over your shoulder, asking for her name.

“Natasha.” She responded with a shaky breath, her hands aching to grab your hips and press you against her. She tried to resist the urge to give in to her impulses, trying to maintain her professional demeanour.

Your breathing became laboured, your lips parting slightly. You reached behind your back and reached for Natasha’s bulge, feeling the outline of the strap-on. She groaned, a ‘fuck’ escaping her lips as she grabbed your hips and pressed your ass against her groin harder, giving in to the temptation.

“Such a fucking slut.” Natasha’s eyes were a mix of authority and desire. 

“N-Nat-” You knew she’d be hot and bothered by your actions, but-

She leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to your temple. “Shut up.” She whispered hotly in your ear. “Take your clothes off, now.”

You wasted no time removing your clothes, letting them fall around your legs as you kept your panties on. Natasha sat down on the edge of the king-size bed and patted her lap.

“Over my lap.” Her voice was void of emotion, and her words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You knew what was happening next and obeyed without saying a word, fear creeping into your stomach. Your stomach rested on her lap, your head and legs dangling beside her thighs. The rough fabric of her pants hitting your clothed folds made you shiver, your cheeks turning a bright shade of red.

She ran her hands over the curve of your ass, her touch light as a feather along the seam where flesh met lace. The delicacy of her touch caused goosebumps to form on your skin.

“I think you deserve ten spanks, don’t you agree?” Natasha retorted. It was a rhetorical question and you didn’t have the confidence to turn her down anyway.

She lifted your hips to push your panties down to your knees, trapping your thighs closed. Her hands, which had been so gentle a moment before, dug roughly into your ass, leaving crescent-shaped impressions on your skin. 

A powerful smack echoed, and you arched forward with the force of it against your ass. Natasha’s thumb rubbed over your red and sore cheek. You tried to keep track of how many smacks she had given you so far, but after the third smack, your thoughts became blank as you moaned uncontrollably. As much of a punishment as it was, you couldn’t deny that you liked it when she spanked you. Even your hips pushed into her hands during each blow. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now. Making a mess all over my thigh while I spank you like the naughty girl you are.” Natasha chuckled, finishing the last few blows on your bright red flesh. Taking a deep breath, you grit your teeth against the red-hot pain emanating from your ass.

“Such a good little slut for mommy.” She kneaded the supple flesh and leaned down to treat each of your cheeks to a kiss. “You did so well for me, good girl.”

You squirmed fruitlessly under her touch, whimpering as the sticky juices ran down your thighs. “M-Mommy..” You whispered, trying to angle your hips against her thigh to give yourself some pleasure.

“You’re not cumming on my thigh. On your knees for me, milaya devushka (sweet girl).” Her voice was honey-like, her hands gently scratching over your scalp. Her soothing touch lulled you slowly, and you hummed in response.

Releasing yourself from her lap, you knelt before her, her knees spread on either side of you. You steadfastly refused to acknowledge the pain beneath your flesh. The rough carpet dug into your knees, but the thought of obeying her was all that mattered to you.

Natasha stood up, quickly removing her clothes and tossing them aside. Your eyes looked up at her submissively, and your mouth salivated as your gaze fell on the strap-on around her waist. She sat back down, spreading her legs and pushing you closer to her body. Neither of you spoke, the room falling silent apart from the ticking sounds of the clock and steady breathing. She watches your body relax the longer you kneel for her, sensing the moment you slip into subspace. 

“Do you know what cockwarming is, detka (baby)?” You nod slowly and open your lips, darting your tongue out. Natasha guides her length between them, and you moan at the heaviness of it, resting your cheek against her thigh. Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes flutter shut. She watches you in your kneeling position, noticing your body swaying unconsciously.

She holds her body upright with an elbow behind her back, running her fingers through your hair. Your thighs ache, and your mouth is full of saliva, but eventually, you begin to relax into her.

“Good girl.” Natasha whispers, the praise slipping from her lips. She almost purrs with satisfaction as she feels you melt further into her. “So perfect for me.”

You don’t know how long you stay on your knees with her in your mouth. You whine as she begins to take your mouth from her, your fingers digging into her skin, trying to hold her in place as you swallow back her length.

“Shhh... It’s alright, you’ve done great.” Natasha smiles and brushes her thumb over your cheek. You let her pull you off of her and bring you into her lap. 

You tuck your face into her neck, whining as you slowly release from the subspace. You begin to realize yourself aching with emptiness, and you whimper as her strap brushes against the sensitive, soaked skin between your thighs. You begin rocking in her lap slowly.

“Shit, so wet for me, hmm?” Natasha drops her hands to your hips and lets you rut down against her lap, grunting as your breasts bounce in her face as you move. She leans down and sucks one between her lips, grazing her teeth against the hardening nub softly.

“P-Please, Mommy.” You whine, arching against her. She nods as she reaches between the both of you to wrap her hand around the silicone. Soaked in your arousal and saliva, the both of you moan as she presses the head of the strap-on into your entrance. 

Natasha cups your face and guides you into a kiss as she begins pressing inside, and you moan into her open mouth as she stretches you, the length thick and hard and hot as it sinks inside of you. 

“Fuck, dorogaya (sweetheart). You’re so tight for me.” She murmurs, and you’re heavily panting as you settle in her lap, her length nestled fully inside you.

Clenching the walls of your pussy a few times, you groan as Natasha holds your hips, raising you on your shaking legs before dropping you back down on her length.

“Nat, I need… Please…” You can’t find the word to explain the way your thighs shake from exertion, or how your whole body feels like fucking jelly, but Natasha knows, she always does.

“I’ve got you, malyshka (babygirl).” Natasha murmurs. You whimper as she wraps her hands around your thighs. She helps you rise and fall on her length, thrusting her hips up quickly and deeper to meet you as you fall back down. She kisses you, lips wet and hot as both of your bodies are covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You can’t seem to think of anything else past the haze of arousal.

“M-Mommy, I’m close.” You whimper, and she drops her mouth to your neck, her tongue and lips sucking and her teeth biting. She breathes hotly against your neck, against the mark she’s just made.

You whimper and drop your forehead onto her shoulder, closing your eyes and moistening your lips. You’re sliding along her sweaty skin as she fucks you hard and fast, her fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as she helps you rise and-

“Cum for me, moya lyubov’ (my love).” Your breath comes in short gasps as Natasha wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body as close to her as she can.  

“Oh God-” You moan and cum hard, your whole body shaking as she continues to fuck you, splitting you open. Natasha trembles beneath you as you writhe above her. Breathing sharply, she murmurs words of comfort and praise to you as you tremble in her arms, coming down from your high.

Natasha lifts you from her lap and lays you gently on the bed. You hiss as you feel a hint of pain as she slides off of you. She lies down next to you and looks at you, giggling as she looks at your face after your orgasm.

“Well, that was something. I never thought you’d have it in you to try out one of my fantasies.” You smile softly and turn your head towards her.

Natasha laughs, and the sweet sound echoes through the room. “Well, I want to please you, detka (baby). Did you like it?”

“Of course.” You reach forward to stroke her cheek and kiss her gently. Natasha pulls back and presses her forehead against yours, sighing in happiness. “Can't deny that it was really hot when you were acting all commanding and authoritative to me though.”

Natasha's shakes her head, smirking. “Alright, weirdo. Get some sleep.”

“Yes, Mommy.” You teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.

After a few minutes of synchronized breathing, exhaustion catches up to you. Your breathing slows down and you fall asleep. Natasha pulls the covers over you, snuggling against your side and splaying an arm across your waist.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” She whispers in your ear, a soft smile on her lips as she falls asleep next to her beloved.

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[mjolnirswriststrap]

Not My Type

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,329 Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Bucky is dumb.

Warnings: Fatphobia.

A/N: something short, sweet and simple because I’m starting to feel guilty about not posting 😭

Steve watched, as his friend searched around the club with his eyes. He could assume Bucky was just waiting on the rest of their coworkers to get there, but he knew better. “She’ll get here soon enough, relax.”. Steve leans his back against the booth and takes a long drink of his beer. “Who?” Bucky asks, unconvincingly.

“Y/N.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky scrunches up his face “As if, man.” He ignores the look of disbelief Steve gives him. “Why deny it? I’ve caught you staring her down more times than I can count.”. Steve stands up and waves to signal Natasha to where they sat. “There’s nothing to deny, she’s not my type, leave it there so no one’s feelings get hurt, okay?” Bucky puts the bottle to his lips to shush himself when he sees you approach the booth.

“You guys look.” Steve’s speechless as he takes in the silk nighties the girls adorned. They all wore semi matching babydoll dresses. Color coded fishnets and heeled slippers adorned their long legs. Their hair was high and teased, makeup adding to the sultry bedtime look they were going for.

“You’re gonna catch flies.” Wanda remarks, leaving to find Vision having the time of his life with the DJ. Steve’s reaction to their costumes did nothing to calm your nerves. You went with the housewife costume too. Just a different approach entirely. Your hair sat in victory rolls atop your head, a thick stack of curls laying on your shoulders, a knee length dress with three quartered sleeves covered you. You’re painted your eyebrows on thinly, just to over line your lips, filling them in with your favorite red Mac lipstick. You were the most modest in your costume, but the most accurate.

You couldn’t wear a see through nightgown to the club. You would die of embarrassment, your rolls would be everywhere. At least in this thick cotton dress, no one could see the layers of shape wear you wore. You slid into the booth and sat beside Steve, getting sandwiched in when Sam finally arrives, late with no costume. “What took you so long, huh khakis?” You tease him, feeling nothing but comfort in his presence.

“You ever had to tell a 10 year old his idea isn’t good enough.” He laughs, “, You should go as yourself Unc!” He recalls the boys words over the phone. “Oh, of course, looks like a superhero to me!” You giggle, loving the thought of his nephews building up his self esteem. He was new to the team, no super strength or speed. Just courage, you admired Sam.

You finally take the chance to look around the booth. Steve wore his vintage Captain America suit, claiming it still fits like a glove. Bucky didn’t wear a costume, just his regular black t-shirt and leather jacket, no effort, even for Halloween. It helped Sam not look so out of place, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tried way to hard to act like he didn’t care about anything, or anyone. You hate people like that, too self absorbed to carry on a conversation with someone who doesn’t benefit them.

You had been on the wrong side of his attitude before. Bumbling up to him after your first meeting. Stretching out your hand for a shake, he barely touched your hand as he shook your fingers, nodding at you with a curt “Welcome.” You didn’t think much of it till he sat beside Yelena, who got recruited the same day as you, and sparked up a lively conversation with her, telling her if she needs anything at the compound to come ask him. That was the first time Bucky hurt your feelings, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N!” Someone yells at you from the dance floor. It’s Yelena dancing alone, “You promised me a dance.” She says, holding her arms out for you. You nudge Sam on the shoulder and do the most embarrassing scoot out of the booth you could imagine. Your dress rode up in the time you’d been sitting there, causing your thighs to stick to the old leather. Your face grimaces and you peel your skin away, hoping no one noticed.

“I’m on the dance floor, as promised.” You say, holding her hands while she dances on you. “You’re gonna need to do more than stand there if you want him to notice you.” She remarks, not skipping a beat. Yelena knew you too well, she knew you picked the 40s for a reason, not going with their free spirit 60s slumber get up.

Giving her a wide eyed look, as if he heard over the thumping music. “We both know I have no rhythm, stop that.” You giggle when she presses her back against you and slides down into a squat. She goes behind you and grabs your hips, forcing you against her chest. She grinds you into her pelvis, using her hands to guide your hips in sync with hers. You never moved that way before, and the sensuality of it had your heart racing. Yelena could be anyone, tightly holding on to you, you closed your eyes and threw your head back on her shoulder, just to imagine it was him for a moment.

You feel Yelena’s lips tickle your ear and she’s whispering “Look who can’t take their eyes off of you.” You tilt your head down and open your eyes to lock them with Bucky’s. He looks angry, like you pissed in his cheerios. You turn your body around to face Yelena, “I think he’s upset I’m blocking his view from you.”. That causes her to laugh out loud, grabbing your shoulders to shake you. “You’re mad woman! Look at what’s right in front of you.”. You laugh and look behind you to see Bucky staring down his beer now, instead of you.

“Yelena, I don’t know how to put this, he probably doesn’t even go for girls like me, skinny blonde seems more his type. You, you seem more his type.” You plead with her. She just shakes her head, “He doesn’t like me, I promise, Y/N.” You nod your head, trusting the closest friend you had.

You make your way to the bar, grabbing a drink to cool yourself off. You’re walking back to the booth to get off your feet when you overhear Steve and Bucky’s conversation.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You look like a helpless puppy, just make your move.”

“As if I’d need to, she’s probably never had male attention, that’s too easy.”

“Just admit that you’re afraid of rejection.”

“From her? Never in a million years would fatty have a chance. Like I said she’s obviously not my type.”. Bucky instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean it. But Steve wouldn’t stop accusing him of having a crush on you.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you push them down. You knew better, Yelena didn’t, you shouldn’t have let her give you false hope. You choke down your pride and turn the corner, sliding into the booth as if nothing happened. “I think this is my last drink guys, I’m getting tired, and winter training starts tomorrow.”.

An echo of ‘boos’ and a “noooo why.” Almost tempt you to stay. But you know you’re not wanted here, by the one person that mattered. Steve catches your attention, “Are you sure? The nights still young.” He wiggles his brows. You give him a tight lipped smile, knowing he tried to get Bucky to make a move.

“Yeah, there’s really not much for me here. I came for Natasha.” He nods, giving Bucky a death glare. You finish your drink and when you stand up the previous shots you had with Wanda hit you. You quickly sit back down, grabbing the table for stability. “Are you alright?” Steve rests his hand on your lower back, scooting closer to you.

You shake your head, not being able to form words. You think you’d faint if you didn’t focus on breathing. “Let me help you home.” He can see the unsure expression on your face. “Wouldn’t be respecting the suit if I didn’t make sure you got home safe.”. With that he convinced you.

When the cold October air hits your face, it sobers you a little bit, taking away the dizzy feeling, leaving you with a thumping head. Steve takes a few minutes to join you outside, you left him in a heated whisper match with Bucky.

You’re leaned against the side of the building when he finds you. “Ready to go?” He offers you his arm but you shake your head. “No need to be such a gentleman, it’s just me.” You say, knowing he’s doing it just to be nice.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Why shouldn’t I be a gentleman towards you?” He asks. You press your pounding head against the brick wall, closing your eyes to think of the right words. “The only reason a guy needs to be a gentleman is for good impressions. I highly doubt you feel a need to impress me.”.

He scoffs at you, “What gives you the impression that you’re not worth impressing?”. Even though you were tipsy, Bucky’s words seared your frontal lobe. You suddenly are at a loss for words. How do you tell him you were eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I just don’t get much male attention I guess.” You let him in, his eyes widen in realization that you heard Bucky’s harsh words. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He says, stepping closer to you. You roll your eyes at him.

“No, he knew exactly what he was talking about. Fatty is no one’s type. No one looks at me and thinks “woah, the most beautiful woman in the world just walked in the room”.” You push yourself off the wall. “I understand that you wouldn’t get that, since you’re so perfect Steve. Women lay down at your feet, your options are endless. But not for someone like me.”.

Steve’s face had turned into a stone. His jaw clenched tightly. He let you vent out your frustrations. “The way you looked at the girls, the way half the club looked at the girls, I’ll never have that.”. You look at your feet and notice him take a step closer to you. You look up to see your faces not too far apart.

“I was looking at you too.” He reaches out, letting his hands hover over your waist. He rests them on your hips when your don’t push him away. “I don’t care what he said, he’s just insecure, he can’t admit that he thinks you’re hot.” You scoff at him this time.

“Steve whatever you’re doing, I get the whole nice guy thing. But just stop.” You say, pressing your hand against his chest. The thin polyester did nothing to conceal his smooth muscles. You feel him squeeze your sides tighter, his thumbs pressing into your belly. “He doesn’t speak for me.”.

You look into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”. You’d never even humored yourself by considering Steve. You now had to rethink every encounter you ever had with him. “Forget him, let me show you how a real man appreciates a woman.”

He slides his hands down, letting them grasp as much of your ass that could fit in them. You gasp, he wasn’t afraid of your body, he knows what it has to offer. Judging by the way he gripped on to your ass like his life depended on it, he liked it.

“What if someone sees?” You say, pushing his hands off of you. He replaces them “I’m not afraid, why are you?” He leans down, connecting your lips, you’re frozen for a moment. How do you kiss him back? Before you could find out you feel a hand on your shoulder, ripping you away from Steve.

“What are you doing?” Bucky is talking to his friend, ignoring your existence. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something.” Steve steps between you and Bucky. “You shouldn’t be out here hooking up with a random coworker.” Bucky says, trying to convince himself.

“Y/N isn’t a random coworker, Jesus Bucky, what’s your problem?” Steve asks, letting his anger show. He knew what he was doing, if Bucky wouldn’t admit it on his own, jealousy would work just fine. Bucky balls up his fists at his side “You know what my problem is.”.

You’re staring at Steve’s back, you don’t know what Bucky’s talking about. Is he so repulsed by a plus size woman, he doesn’t even want his friend with one? You were done, you’d never done anything to Bucky besides exist. He had an imaginary problem with you.

You stepped around Steve, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t know where the boost of confidence came from, probably Steve’s lips and hand placement. You look Bucky up and down, truly taking him in.

He was perfect, and he knew it. It was starting to disgust you. “Just because ‘fattys’ like me have no chance with you, doesn’t mean that I’m not worthy of another man being attracted to me.” You take a step back, pressing yourself against Steve. Just to show Bucky, you meant business.

Basing it off of the hard indentation on the front of Steve’s spandex, he liked watching you tell Bucky off. You turn your body around to face him, throwing a look over your shoulder at Bucky, “Take me home Stevie.” You sing song in his ear.

A smirk falls on his lips, “Let’s do that princess.” He says while leading you out of the alley. Bucky is stuck in place, having an internal war with himself, that you weren’t gonna stick around for.

[naturesapphic]

Hey could you write a fanfiction with Nat x Reader who's very clingy. So one day one of the others Avengers comment Readers behavior and Reader gets very insecure and trys to stop clingyng on Nat.

So basically Fluff/Angst

Hope you like the idea at least a bit

Have a nice day!

Insecurities

Natasha romanoff x clingy!fem!reader

Warnings: some members of the team being mean, angry nat, hurt/comfort, cussing

You have been very distant from Natasha lately and she wonders why. She didn’t say or do anything wrong did she? She hoped she didn’t and even if she did, she would hope that you would come to her so y’all can work through it. Natasha was fixing her a peanut butter sandwhich when you came into the kitchen and saw her. You gave her a small smile and she gave you a bigger one.

“Hey sweetheart. I’ve missed you. Would you like to train with me? I was waiting and hoping you would join me.” She said hopefully and before you could answer snickering was heard which caused you to look behind you. Tony and Steve were standing there looking at you with judge filled eyes that made you uncomfortable. “Oh look! There’s Natasha’s clingy ass girlfriend! I bet she even follows nat to the bathroom to watch her use it!” Tony snickered as Steve laughed loudly, as they didn’t know Natasha was in the same room as them.

Tears filled your eyes as you brushed past your girlfriend and ran off into your room. Natasha felt herself lose it as she rounds the corner and see the two men she considered as friends still laughing but their faces turn pale as they see who’s in front of them. “O-oh hey nat…” Steve squeaked out as he tried to act innocent. Natasha went behind her back and pulled out two of her batons and shoved them against the wall with the deadly weapons against their throat.

“You hurt my girlfriend and made her cry. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.” She said lowly as she looked at them with killer eyes. “I-it was just a joke!” Steve sputtered out as he struggles against Natasha’s hold. “A fucking joke is supposed to be funny. My girlfriend crying and feeling bad about herself is NOT funny you fucking dick heads.” She growled and didn’t appreciate what they said so she turned on her batons which shocked both men.

They got electrocuted by the batons and fell to the floor on their faces which made Natasha smirk. She left them on the floor as they twitch every now and then and went to go after you. She found you in your room sitting on your bed with your head in your hands. She shut the door and immediately sat beside you on your bed and took you into her arms. “No matter what they have said to you, I love when you are clingy to me babygirl.” Natasha reassured you as you nodded your head slowly.

“They keep making comments and making fun of me everytime you aren’t around…they always tell me how clingy and annoying I was and that soon you will see it too and leave me..” you sniffled as Natasha feels her heart break. “Oh dove…I could never hate how clingy you are to me and you never ever annoy me…you never could…” she reassured you and you smiled up at her. “And don’t worry about the boys…I’m plotting their deaths now and they won’t ever be mean to you again. Not as long as you are my girl.” She said with a smile as she kisses you softly on your lips which you immediately recuperated.

No matter what anyone has said or will say. Natasha loves when you are clingy and you will never annoy her for as long as you are alive.

A/n: I hope this is what you wanted anon and I hope you enjoyed it along with everyone else! Requests are still opened for all my characters and remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

[lokisgoodgirl]

Believe Me [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Home from a mission in the dead of night, Loki requires absolution (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Avenger!Loki. Established relationship. Mild sub!loki, non-toxic jealously, 'authorised' mild infidelity (missions, innit).

You had dozed, slipping between the fleeting embrace of slumber. Snatches came and went, the cool of your pillow turning hot before you turned it again.

Fat feathers crisped as you lowered your head. The finest Asgardian goose. Loki insisted. With each wave of consciousness, you tried not to think of your lover destructively flirting his way through a honeytrap mission tonight. The poor mark didn’t stand a chance. You checked the clock. 03.23.

But something feels different.

Sitting up, you squinted beyond the darkness.

On the far side of the room, a wing-back chair rose in the gloom. The draped silk of your discarded robe still hung over the armrest, but it shimmered. It was moving. Black became grey as your eyes adjusted, seeing pale fingers weaving silk between them.

You saw him now.

Legs crossed, back straight and chin dipped as he watched you sleep while he bathed in shadow. Curls sat effortlessly back from his face, slices of cheekbone protruding from blackest night.

The shade of his suit was at one with the leather behind, but Loki’s bright eyes smouldered; embers of starlight and dying galaxies deep in the darkness. “I didn’t wish to wake you, love” he murmured, pulling the silk hem through his fingers a final time before letting it fall.

One long leg unfurled over the other, the click of his heel meeting the floor making you clench beneath the bed-covers. You were wet already. So wet. Like your body could sense his presence, if not yet your mind. She always could.

Like a dream, you cast the duvet back and rose; bare feet padding across the boards towards him. Cool air sent gooseflesh rippling up your thighs, your arms; the curves of your body protected only by a flimsy camisole. Only a few more steps. The leather of the chair squeaked as his thighs spread against the sides. “Loki,” you breathed, cupping his face.

No sooner had the name left your lips than a row of candles flickered to life, illuminating him from behind. They floated in the air, rivulets of wax already spilling soft rolls down the sides. “Hel-lo,” he purred teasingly. One eyebrow cocked. And the threat of a smirk pressing against his cheeks.

For the first time, you noticed his unusual attire. A three piece suit, with its crowning glory the drip of starched ruffles cascading down his chest to the high waist of his trousers. He shifted in the chair, the pad of a fingertip brushing a close-lipped smile.

“Steve really went Ken-doll on you tonight, huh?” you teased, mirth ebbing to renewed desire as he drew the fingers to the bow-tie fastened at his neck.

He shrugged, tugging it slowly, letting the silk unfurl. It hung perfectly around his collar. You wondered if he would tie you up with it. You hoped he would.

In a flash, two large hands cupped your ass, pulling you down to his lap. With a gasp you managed to straddle him, slotting your knees on either side of his thick trunk. You kissed him deeply, savouring the softness of his tongue as it welled and licked and loved you. The ceremony was about to begin. His fingers spread against your cheeks, pulling and massaging as he groaned into your throat.

He tasted like jealousy. Traces of expensive perfume lingering on his skin and the faint hang of some rich whisky doing its best to conceal it. A thrill flooded through you, imagining the mark's desire roaring through her blood as she felt his muscle ripple beneath her touch. But Loki would never betray you, not beyond the emotionless tactics his position required.

Your thumb skated up his cheek, catching a patch of forgotten lipstick near his ear. Forgotten? No. You knew better than that. Whenever Loki came home from ensnaring a target with his wiles, he never missed the chance to make sure you knew who he belonged to. It was a mission. It was nothing. But ceremony must be upheld. His lips waxed and waned deeper, firing passion setting you alight. Every swallow was harsher and deeper than the last. Like he might lose you in the darkness. Loki grunted wetly as you scooted closer on his lap, chest flush to your colossus of a lover while his fingers wound in your hair. Your digits slid down his chest, feeling the ropes of muscle bound beneath starched folds. You broke apart just long enough to whisper the question he was waiting for. "You had to kiss this one?" You let the playful mist of a snarl hang on the air. Loki growled in response while you began working down his chin, along the long blade of his jawline. Letting the tip of your tongue run over the angle of his bone structure.

“Yes,” he rasped while you dropped lower, fastening to the slender muscle of his neck. You took a moment to appreciate his Adam’s apple work as he swallowed hard, ragged breaths ripping the air. His head fell back. “Only for a minute,” he panted to the ceiling. “It was perfunctory.”

Honestly from the god of lies, you’d found, was the greatest aphrodisiac of all.

“Where?” you asked, closing your eyes against his skin. “Against the wall,” he choked. His breaths were short. Loki’s fingernails grazed down the exposed skin between your shoulder-blades while you began to gently gyrate in circles. The god’s thick cock snaked down his thigh, ferociously hard against the tight fabric. At the mercy of your movements.

His brow creased as you slid back and forth, wetted lips parting with a needy gasp. “Did she want you?” you goaded, sliding the heel of your palm over one of his cheekbones. It raked through his hair. "Of course," he strummed, thighs beginning to tremble beneath your hips. Loki's hands ran in worship up the curve of your waist. "And did you want her?" you asked coyly. Loki pouted before a gentle tug of the camisole made your breasts spilled into his waiting hands. “Never,” he breathed; eyes flashing dangerously as he lifted them to meet yours. “Never.” You slid a hand down his torso, through the mass of white foliage ruffles which lapped against your palm in flickering candlelight. They were hard, and yet soft. Just like him. And stiff. That too, was a common attribute.

Slowly, you reached the button of his trousers. Loki thrust into the touch, biting his lip with a flinch. His brows knitted together.

One button popped beneath your fingers. Then two.

He leant forward, pushing your cleavage together and burying his face deep. The god’s nose slotted perfectly between the mounds of flesh he sought, drowning himself in the scent of you. The feel of you. His muffled moans of anticipation made you squirm on his lap, rubbing your bare pussy against his sprung manhood.

Pants and wet grunts of desire filled the air before Loki surfaced, kissing manically up the path to your lips. He consumed you again, his palm skating up the nape of your neck in a violent embrace. Waves of stiff ruffles grazed your nipples, sending electric shocks of pleasure to your dripping core. Had you ever needed him more than this? You were certain you had. But you couldn’t remember when.

Loki’s hands massaged your ass, pulling you deeper against his face. His shirt ruffles scratched your inner thighs, the tender caress making you mewl his name to the ceiling.

“Say you believe me,” he gasped in desperation.

It was a dark prayer. And a desperate one, at that. A ring of saliva was smeared across his lower face. The words chanted on repeat as your searching fingers lined him up between your slick thighs.

“Say you believe me,” he pleaded, slurring. His throat clung to the final syllable, rasping it through a torturous exhale.

The tip of his cock jarred against your slit, a sticky mess of pre-cum and arousal webbing with each slow buck. He was trembling with the effort of resistance.

He would not. Not until the ceremony of his forgiveness was complete.

You looked down at him, head resting against the back of the chair. Carefully coiffured hair now hung around his cheekbones, jutting at mussed angles. Half-lidded eyes observed you with reverence, submission. A pilgrim awaiting absolution. You smiled. Leaning in, you traced the taut vein popping in his neck. Felt every bob and tighten as he swallowed on your ascent. The little mewls from his pretty lips. And all the while, his hips rocked; cock licking and caressing your glistening sex.

The swirl of your tongue tasted bitter. Remnants of perfume from her wrists as she wound her arms around his neck, perhaps. But it would be gone soon. It always was. They always were. And you? You remained. You always did.

You reached the soft skin beneath his ear, humming a little before sucking his delicate lobe between your lips. “I believe you, baby” you whispered.

It was no more than a breath. The truth needs no more than a breath, you’d found. And with a broken sob of gratitude, Loki felt you sink deep onto his leaking cock.

Tags

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[seikkoi]

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 | dom!wanda maximoff x f!reader

18+ minors dni | dark-ish content warning

content/warnings: explicit sexual content, female domination themes, spanking, overstimulation, choking if you squint,

genre: pure smut, minimal braincells

word count: 1,554

Your typically patient wife has had enough of your attitude.

Your eyes squeezed shut, body tensing as Wanda’s palm meets your  skin again. You’re draped over her lap, nails digging into the soft suit pants at her thighs when another strike meets your ass. With every delicious sting, her other hand alternates between stroking your clothed back or fondling your hair. You writhe at the pain, legs restricted by your pants pulled down to your ankles. Normally, Wanda had the patience to undress you fully before punishing you. Normally, she would have stopped five minutes ago. But then again, you normally acted like less of a brat.

ᗢ

It was late when Wanda returned home, much later than usual. The busyness of the day affairs kept her from giving you a heads-up. You had a good two hours to build up your attitude about her tardiness. The ticking hands of the clock served as taunting background music while you watched dinner grow cold. 

You couldn’t fathom a reason she at least didn’t call to tell you, angrily putting away dinner and showering. The front door knob turned just as you re-entered the living room. Wanda, your ever-beautiful wife, wore tiredness in her face, but still greeted you with a smile. Seeing the dark, curve-hugging suit she wore to work made it difficult to be upset anymore, but not impossible. Before she could explain anything, you were on her case. Endless rhetoric about the importance of punctuality and communication spouted from your mouth. You gave no credence to the perfectly reasonable explanation she gave- only responding with more attitude. 

Wanda merely stood, unable to get much of a word in. You, too deep into your rant, don’t notice when she goes silent, removing her suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of her crisp white button-up. You didn’t notice the sly grin tugging at her mouth, or when she took slow, heavy steps towards you.

“You done, darling?” she cooed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

The house was dim, with enough light for you to see the familiar glint in her green eyes. There was a firmness to her touch, fingertips dragging against your cheek. Only then did you realize how unfair you were being, and how much you just fucked up. 

“I just-You didn’t call, you always call.” Your body relaxed at her touch, anticipation swirling in your stomach. You'd been with Wanda long enough to know what your behavior would earn you.

“And I apologized for that, my love.” Her palm wraps around your hair, tugging your head back to look at her. “But you were too busy mouthing off to hear it.”

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That’s how you earned your current position, a whimpering, soaked, half-dressed mess in Wanda’s lap. You had eagerly submitted to this punishment, albeit still stubbornly. You hadn’t held back a snippy remark when Wanda sat and gestured to her lap, which was probably why your punishment was much, much longer than usual. 

You are lucky though, because the sight of you like this, suddenly very apologetic and needy, starts to drive Wanda insane, filling her head with more ideas.

“On the bed.” It’s a short and breathy command that you follow all too quickly, pulling your pants off completely before lying on the cool sheets. Wanda kneels next to you, staring down at your flushed body like a meal waiting to be devoured.

A moment passes as you shift your weight off your tender skin and meet Wanda’s eyes, praying that she’d forgiven your earlier behavior. 

Almost like she’s read your mind, Wanda’s crooked smile returns as her hand dances behind your underwear. 

“You can be such a good girl, but only when you want to be, hm?” Her other hand strokes your thigh, fingers sliding along your folds in the same slow place as her taunt.

Your body was far too worked up and sensitive for her teasing, groaning from the lack of attention she knew you needed. You tried to move your sore hips, anything to increase her speed, but a firm push on your thigh stopped that. 

“You’re being a little harsh here,” you whined, still trying to gain even an inch of friction.

“You think you deserve any better right now?” Wanda prevented you from responding with more protest by quickly inserting the teasing digit into you, making you arch against the mattress.

Her goal now seemed to be just shutting you up, adding a second digit and relentlessly fucking you.  It borders on being too much too quickly. You can feel the warmth spreading across your skin as Wanda presses a thumb to your clit. You were now an even bigger mess than before, moaning and jerking against her. Wanda still kept you in place, replacing the hand at your thigh with her knee on your hip. With the way your body still reacts, trying to move against her, you’re certain you'll have a fresh set of bruises there now.

Wanda soaks in every twitch however, drunk on your moans. When your mouth hangs in an open gasp, eyes fluttering, she gives you no reprise, curving the slender digits inside you.

“Shit, Wanda, that’s too much-”, your own sounds of pleasure cut you off, feeling your peak rip through you with little warning. The dampness of the sheets reaches your thighs as you swear and cry out Wanda’s name.

You learned that you were still paying for your outburst, with Wanda’s pace going unchanged. The pleasure transitioned from bliss to overwhelming as she fucked you through your orgasm and long after. The knee holding you down could barely be felt, mind too absorbed in the feeling between your legs. 

You feel like a puddle of water beneath her. Your excitement coated her fingers, making every thrust into you glide with ease. You can hardly process the digits against your walls, crying out each time she reaches your hilt or adds more pressure to your clit. When you feel your second orgasm building, the overstimulating pleasure pricks fresh tears from your tightly shut eyes. 

“W-wanda, please, I can’t.” you cry, gripping aimlessly at the damp sheets beneath you. 

You try a bit harder to sit up, moving your hips away from hold. Wanda isn’t having it, though- her free hand makes its way to your throat, pushing you back down. The smile on her face is infectious, gleaming at your pleas. 

“So polite all of a sudden, tsk,” Wanda scoffs, stretching you further with a third finger. You groan at the sensation, eyes rolling when she finds her pace again.

“I’ll make sure you don’t forget your manners next time, draga.”