#on my knees barking

[samodivaa]

Words don’t trigger him, emotions do

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Anger, resentment and especially, jealousy—those emotions were all he knew while you both spent decades at Hydra.

Warnings- angst, jealously, mental struggles, smut, possessive sex, love bites

Words- 3400

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And his love has its own dark morality when rivalry enters in, when another man dares to flirt with you and Bucky shall show well what he shows best.

“Hello, snowflake" he says "Hope I'm...interrupting”

There is an intonation so bitter and so imperative that the man who you are talking with shallows hard. The words which are set in the air—in themselves they are simple and sweet. But his jealousy, protectiveness are a living thing. Shifting, changing, growing.

"Do you know the man?" he asks politely, blue eyes burning with violence.

There is a natural comorbidity between possessiveness and jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill.

„Yeah, I do,“ you reply and Bucky feels alone in the moment your eyes break contact—and in a fever, among the walls of the bar, he looks around too, a thickening twilight peeps out in his mind.

"Who is he?" he asks in a pleasant but cold voice, now clearly less friendly than before.

„It doesn’t matter“ you smile softly, that sentence is a uttered curse to Bucky’s ears. Immediately, his guard is up.

Bucky is silent for a moment, suffocated by the situation, ringing in his ears, and the heart—it will bust.

The simplicity of your answer spreads as frost, closing off the light of his eyes. His mind starts racing once again, a nameless emotion has nested in Bucky – who is that guy?

Bucky sits on your left side before he leans on the counter next to you, with his metal hand and puts his right one on his tight, closer to his gun strapped there.

You know him, you know that behavior— this yearning to protect, tearing at his insides like hunger and thirst. It is not love. Love is warm and soft, like a bed of leaves. But this is dark, like the shade under a poisonous shrub, and it is hungry. So hungry.

You know its' name—Winter.

You're stuck with him. Not for a few decades, not for centuries. You're tied to him forever. That's why you are good at putting out his flame before it grows—the frame he still carries from the past.

Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, apart from its inconvenience there's even something touching about it—his starless nights eyes—his face, as if it has been a dial cut in impassive stone, the dwindling of life.

You are equipped to handle what he has, both past and present—package deal of both. In other words, you have been assigned a load you can handle.

“Bucky-”

“Let's go home, it’s getting late” he interrupts, in a soft, vicious voice.

“Give me ten minutes”

He feels like a thread has come between you when he hears your answer, tugging, tugging at his heart—so hard, it hurts him.

You glare at each other. He closes his eyes, because there is a petulant woundedness with which he stares back at you.

Neither of you say a word until Bucky moves, leaning back against the counter, and folding his arms over his chest. It takes all his concentration, to keep from ripping out this man’s throat. But Bucky shoves the familiar fury down, to the place where he stifles Winter's power.

“Okay”

He says as he looks over to the man, and wants him to say something mean so he would have an excuse to shoot him. Bucky is something dark and beautiful, in conflict with what he shows to the world and what he truly feels inside, it is hard to control it.

A worry deep in you stir, but you ignore it for now, pushing it down as best you can with the distraction of music and whiskey.

You fully turn to the man and all Bucky wants is your full attention. He wants your gaze to stay fixed on him, only him. He wants to stare into those beautiful eyes for as long as he lives.

Every avalanche begins with the movement of a single snowflake, and you are this Snowflake tonight.

When the ten minute mark hits you hear a quiet screeching sound—he has carved a small heart on the counter with his index metal finger—you can’t believe how jealousy has him gagging, his blue eyes are clouded before he lowers his gaze to the floor.

Snow is super soft, bottomless and amazingly light, yet supportive—until you take a wrong turn and feel every crystal reacting within your soul, suffocating you. Bucky has lost himself in the emotional storm: it takes so little this time, to put fuel in his cynical heart.

“Bucky…” you whisper and your eyes meet, his actual humanity can’t seem to triumph over the rage and jealousy this time, something you hardly imagine in your wildest dreams.

And this is the secret you both share—the kind you don't dare to let out—Words don't trigger him, but emotions do. You can’t leave them unnoticed, unattended and unsolved.

“Let's head home”

Your language has been lost for so long at Hydra. But not the gestures. It is almost comforting, this mutual acceptance of understanding each other without the need for words.

He maintains his silence, but he slowly gets up—he doesn’t look back, he knows you are following him closely. Of course you do, but you think about what has just happened

While you were looking into his eyes, there were fragments of his inner struggle that were deeply repressed—he always tries to repress the past. It’s hard to distinguish if they were buried inside because dealing with them was such dirty work, or if he was ashamed to voice them.

The truth is that he would rather dig his own heart out, with a knife, than admit it. A while ago he let you know that it's hard to control certain emotions—but he didn’t want to throw his intimacy in front of you, especially when he cares.

But nothing stays secret forever

You are trying to heal too, but, finally, there are things which he is afraid to divulge even to himself—he needs you, he needs your reassurance, he feels like someone will snatch you from his hands, damn his split personalities and untrustworthy habits from the past, but he can’t help it, it scares him.

You are both unearthed by deception, torture, brainwashing, whose essence was shrouded by Hydra—your own father naming the Winter Soldier program after his own daughter, you, stringing you with Bucky together—the yearning theme of your life.

After you escaped Hydra, you went your separate ways until he came back to you, searching for someone who understands him.

That was a year ago.

The more he thinks about it, the more he wants you, the more my desire rises and swells—

“Bucky” He shakes his head in exasperation, not stopping as he climbs the stairs to your shared apartment, aiming for the door, but he can’t stay with you, not when he is not fully himself “Bucky, stop, talk to me”

You have known him for so long, you can see the pride through his words, the truth through his silence, and the anger through his smile.

Always.

“Soldat“  he turns to you, perusing your body as he comes to stand in front of you, his abysses as deep as those of love, finally meet yours.

That realization takes about a nanosecond to register in Bucky’s brain before the real important information comes to the forefront—you’ve noticed.

He lowers his head toward you, so you could feel his breath warm against your skin, your mouths only inches apart

“Why did you call me that?”

He has no answer nor idea, just a never-ending list of questions, he is searching for a loophole that increasingly feels like a noose—he denies it, he tries to—you are not entitled to exposing him like that.

How hollow is it for him to have no secrets left—Bucky's love gives, and Soldat's lust takes.

His gaze, improper, is the most sensual thing he can have done at this moment, and it jolts your heart into a strange rhythm as you speak

“Tell me, how can I help?” You put your hands on his chest, your eyes still locked and an unwelcome sensation pierces you.

“You already know” he says thoughtfully as his cool gaze devours you “snezinka” (snowflake) and his lusty grin when he says that, it's sinful—and pleasurable.

“There is nothing to worry about. Do whatever you want to make yourself feel better” All you want to do is make him feel better, to drown his worries in your embrace.

Both shame and worry drown themselves in the dark eyes that stare back at him.

You.

Only you.

Bucky dreads this power you have over him.

Everything you say is exceedingly obvious, and undoubtedly true, but he feels that something more obscure, more frightening lurks in the back of your mind.

You don’t halt the hands he lays on your waist when he pushes you, backing you into the door.

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1968–1969, Zhao Jianmin Spy Case

„That is going to be mass murder, send them together.“

This mission is a long, never-ending massacre, it never ends.

He is lost in your eyes, it’s eating him alive.

Corpses fill the floor, the sight of gore is peaceful in your corrupted existence. He becomes obsessed in this moment of solitude with you, he has the need to touch you and you respond with a kiss, blood all over your face.

Your wretched fate is shared, your need for touch also.

Winter’s lust betrays him as he pushes you against the wall, feasting on your lips and neck, his hands running up and down your back.

“Relax, Winter” you giggle as you gently press your fingers into his shoulders, forcing him to break the kiss as he looms over you- waiting with a predatory grin.

„I need you, Samodiva“ he slurs, eyebrows furrowed as he glances up at you. His trembling fingers touch the strings in vain, wanting to find the right notes from the fading memory, Soldat wants his soul to vibrate again; with lust, with love.

He knows you feel his arousal, your closeness causing him to grow hard, inhaling sharply, enjoying the sensations you are eliciting in him.

“I need you, too” you finally answer without faltering.

This is all Soldat needs to hear - his tongue flicking lightly over your neck once again, tracing the skin slowly, eliciting a moan from your lips, bodies acting on instinct.

A soft squeak escapes your puffy lips, the tension building up in your body too fast, too soon. Winter puts his hands around your waist, your pants already unbuckled, surrendered to him.

He wastes no time, there's no time left… his hands suddenly drop to his own pants, popping the button open and then pulling down the zipper.

The feeling of your insides drains all of his self power to not come on the first trust, he moves at an excruciating slowly pace, fucking you into the bloodstained walls, there is a glimpse of human nature when you fill the room with moans.

„I am yours,“ he whispers, his words sending a series of chills through her.

This is about him, not you, this is what he needs.

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“1968, do you remember?“ he groans as he brushes his mouth against your cheek. The plea in his tone floods your veins with a whole different form of power “Just say no, snezinka-”

“This is exactly what I want“ you counter. As you arch your back, pressing the tips of your breasts against his chest, closing your eyes at the whisper of a kiss, at the hunger that ravages inside you.

He leans down more, his mouth only inches from yours. “Fuck,” the barely leashes growl of his voice rumbles up through his chest, and every nerve ending in your body flares to life.

Bucky loves seeing you pinned to the door—his control balancing precariously on the point of a knife. He tightens his hands holding you even closer, until your chest is pressed against his own, you can feel his hard cock pressing between your bodies.

All he needs is one push.

And you are about to shamelessly shove.

“Come on, I can take it” you tilt your head up to his and draw his bottom lip between yours, sucking before gently nipping him with your teeth. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay” He speaks against your throat and finishes one languorous stroke up the column of your neck.

It breaches something within him, and he gives in.

Finally, mouths collides, and the kiss is hot and hard—it invades his body, abolishing any constraints and bringing to life the desire for you. It grounds him firmly in the moment and drags his body in it, too—Bucky wants to be the only thing touching you, the only thing that touches you ever again. He is kissing the shell of your ear, nipping at it gently and then soothing the nips with soft kisses.

Rage. Lust. Jealousy. Past. Preset. Every day is a reminder of how nothing stays the same, every day an exercise in variability, resilience, understating and trust.

You love the seasons, but, you must admit—at the risk of offending the others—Winter is your very favorite one. What a beautiful madness, to explore the darkness in his old self and find joy in the unearthing of such a wicked past.

He craves you, he kisses you again.

When your mouth touches his, it is like a blade glancing off metal—the darkness inside him briefly lights up with violence and rage before the emptiness comes flooding in like a black lake—you see it in his eyes.

“Let’s get inside '' he hears your whisper and he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers. He might be lust-intoxicated, but he always cares.

Tonight, you have successfully deflected his attention from the gloomy thoughts and the contemplation of his past—his lust rushes, but his love makes him wait.

His love lasted for decades—will last for a lifetime.

Awash with trepidation, you two manage to get into the apartment, but the moment you lock the door—your back is against the wall again.

All those desires Bucky has felt in passing have culminated, growing deeper, hungrier, darker—he can do whatever he wants with you.

That through alone causes trouble below his belt.

He pulls his shirt over his head, the sight of his sculpted muscles, crisscrossed with countless scars. They have the strange power to remind you both that the past is real.

Bucky’s hands languidly roam the curves and valleys of your body as his kisses became sensual, slow and deep. There is such a luster in his eyes that you have to look away, but when you look back at him, his gaze hasn’t moved, still focused on your face.

Then he shifts his mouth to your neck for a hard love-bite that makes you cry out— the need to possess you, to claim you, he never did that before.

But even though you feel his erection stir as you press your hips against his, he doesn't attempt to resume the lovemaking in full, he catches you around your slender waist again and brings you close to whisper teasingly in your ear

“Ты - моя, слышишь?”

You begin to feel a familiar wetness form between your legs.

“Bucky,” you call out, impatient with desire.

But that exact position triggers so much delight, of the heated memory—he has all the time in the world, not as the last time.

He kisses you like he has forgotten how your mouth tastes—with a curious childish delight, kisses like wants to take you dancing.

As you pull apart, you remove your own shirt and his teeth scraping down the skin of your neck, his hands sliding around back to remove your bra, tossing it aside.

His right hand makes its way up, passing over a mark left by a bullet—your cheeks heat, and your breath hitches, but you can’t look away, you follow his hand with your eyes.

“I was not there when you got shot” he says as his fingertip skims the top of your breasts “When was that?” he uses the vibranium arm to lift one of the long locks of your hair to his lips and inhales the scent.

“It doesn’t matter”

And maybe you are right, but it stands as a reminder yet again of how you too escaped death's touch before. It was almost...normal for you back then.

Bucky takes a breast into his mouth to suck at it vigorously as you shiver in his grasp, the metal hand sides down to your waist to keep you against the wall.

You let out a small moan as you feel his hardness tighten and press even more insistently against you.

You worm your hands between your bodies, opening his jeans, freeing his length from the confines of his boxer-briefs, then reaching in to caress it and he burying his face in your neck to stifle his groan.

Bucky shudders when when you take him in your hand, stroking him painfully slowly. He allows it for several moments before hiking up the skirt of your dress to quickly tear your damp underwear.

He rubs a hand down your leg, fingers curling behind your knee and pulls it to his hip.

You instinctively jump, he catches you, abandoning his attempts of fingering you in favor of grabbing your hips, and you moan as you wrap your legs around his waist.

He loves you.

He loves you because nature wills it as it did for decades.

Because you are already long united by the past.

The bare flesh on every part of you always belonged to him, the scent emitting from your skin is his—he loves you, but he doesn't dare tell you that.

You have become Bucky’s favorite hiding place over the past year, the place he put every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, you keep him safe.

You have possessed him—and you never knew it.

He has been dependent on exactly how close he can have you next to him, how long he can get to stay at your apartment—making various excuses every time until you suggested to him to move in with you two months ago.

“Bucky,”

you tighten your legs around his waist, urging him to continue, running your hands over his shoulders.

Your voice pulls him out of what was ravaging in his mind, all those thoughts, but then he kisses as he roughly inserted his cock with no warning, you let out a surprised gasp as his forehead falls to your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips and pressing you against the wall more firmly when he bottoms out, moaning shamelessly at the feeling of your body against him.

You are made for him, made for fucking.

“I love biting you, I need it” his voice is brittle, not saying anything else.

You stare like he is something you can’t comprehend, something unexpected – willingly admitting.

Your fingers thread gently through his hair and you can’t help, but hang your jaw in bewilderment at the sight before—he is falling apart from the need to claim you, to reach the white-hot ecstasy. 

You have never seen him like that.

He bites his way along your jaw to the base of your throat. His mouth is hard and punishing, lathering your skin with marks—ferocity burns in his gaze promising something primal—thrusting into you wildly, trying to elongate your pleasure for as long as possible, but suddenly he is choking on moans as waves of climatic bliss are sent throughout his body.

This is about him, not you, this is what he needs.

This night you learn about his jealousy, it has you starving to learn more about this side of him. A new hunger that you know you will satisfy only with time.

His steel blue eyes hide a nearly irresistible urge to claim you—it’s hard for Bucky to control it when the incurable desolation of Winter exaggerates in displaying old emotions.

#BARKING ON MY KNEES FOR HIM #bucky x ex!asset reader #smut and feels #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x oc #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x you #bucky angst #ws!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter soldier fanfiction #marvel x reader #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x snezana kabakov

[cheekylittlepupp]

The moment he crosses his arms n looks all serious my brain just stops working…

I’d bark for this man idgaf

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #mims posts ~ #astarion bg3 #im on my knees barking idgaf #astarion baldurs gate #I can’t with this man #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion brainrot #woof woof #bg3 astarion

[sainzinnorris]

#raw dog me. #unbutton that and mansplain everything to me #literally i will get on my knees and bark #this is thee carlos sainz picture to me #don't talk to me anyone anymore. #credit: SAINZLOVERS on twitter/X #carlos sainz jr #formula 1 #miami gp 2024 #carlos sainz

[hlebopecc]

metaphysical yaoi real????

#space odyssey #hal 9000 #david bowman #my brain chemistry is altered #forever changed #im never recovering from this #ohhhhhh #i dont have time to draw something more solid but I WILL #my art #sketch #art #traditional art #no you dont get it #you dont get it #*barks* #*cries* #*falls to my knees* #oh um #halman

[finniscrying]

*rattles the bars of my enclosure* LET ME AT HIM LET ME AT HIM

#fhjy spoilers #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fhjy #fantasy high junior year #pok gukgak #i'm on my knees #brennan lee mulligan you dirty dog #meowing barking screaming without the s #listen i mean if sklonda moved on i feel like pok is fair game right /j

[kaislashes]

Me the first time I saw cooper

#cooper howard #monster fucker #the ghoul #fallout #fall out 4 #fall out new vegas #monster lover #bethesda #monster #ghoul fallout #i’m so in love #on my hands and knees #barking like a dog #i need this man

[almond-tofuuu]

sir-

SIR!

ZAYNE LOVERS WE ARE BEING FED

BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK

#bark bark #i need his dick #sir please #i am down horrendous #on my knees #the things i would let him do to me #zayne love and deepspace #zayne #i cannot #screaming crying throwing up #i would let him do unspeakable things to me #love and deepspace #dr zayne

[anakinmybeloved]

He can do WHATEVER he wants to me😩🙏🏼

#on my knees #bark bark #my man <3 #he’s so fine #anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #hayden christensen

[harbingersglory]

Hello, could I have transfem Signora x fem!reader smut? Any scenario is fine, just need dom Signora railing me 😩

{☆} characters la signora {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, dom la signora, transfem la signora {☆} warnings 18+ content, restraints, temperature play, face fucking, degradation, pet play

There's a moment of silence that lingers for far too long, the cold nipping at your exposed skin until you feel shivers wrack your body. You squirm instinctively, seeking out the fading warmth of the thick furs laid out beneath you, yet finding nothing but the cold that chills you to your bones. You can't even see, your eyes covered by black fabric, silk tying your arms together behind your back.

It's almost torturous waiting like this. Your knees sink further into the fur as you lean your weight forward slightly, exhaling a shaky breath. You begin to wonder if Signora left you there– maybe you'd annoyed her earlier and she was punishing you. You hoped not. She wasn't known for being lenient when it came to punishments.

But the brush of her fingers along your jawline squashed that fear, your breath hitching as her thumb glided over your throat, the heat of her skin making you shudder. The contrast of the cold room, of your freezing body, to the unnatural heat that simmers beneath her skin is immense– your knees would have definitely buckled if you hadn't been kneeling already.

"Did you think I'd left you here all alone? You're shaking like a dog." The soft, biting lilt was nothing more than a murmur, but for you it was impossible not to hear the pleased tone beneath the roughness of her voice. Your heart leaps into your throat when her fingers trace back up along your jawline, lifting your head and tilting it back just enough to be uncomfortable.

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are silenced by her thumb slipping past your lips instead– you don't fight back, even though the sudden intrusion catches you off guard enough you almost bite her finger instead. You almost consider doing it anyway, but she's so rarely in a good mood it feels rude to spoil it.

"Pets don't speak until they're told," She chides, pressing down on your tongue slightly and laughing at the way you almost choke in surprise. "And I don't remember giving you permission."

You can only manage a garbled whine in response, your face burning in embarrassment– but it's quickly silenced by the click of her tongue and the creak of the old chair you know sits by the fireplace, her thumb sliding out between your lips to drag you closer. Close enough to feel the rush of heat across your skin as your cheek is pressed against her thigh, her hands resting on the back of your head. You can't see it, but you sure can imagine the smug smile that must be tugging at her lips right about now.

"Let's see about fixing your little disobedient streak, darling." She murmurs, digging her nails into your scalp and tugging you even closer, the furs beneath you doing little to prevent the ache in your knees from kneeling. But you don't complain– you know what she wants, and you want it too. "Open."

Like the dog she seems so fond of treating you as, you listen– you're not as surprised this time when her fingers fill your mouth, forcing it open even further until you can feel the saliva collecting and dribbling down your chin. She doesn't seem to mind, even laughing at how pitiful you probably look, drooling all over her fingers.

But Signora is a hard woman to satisfy, and this will hardly do anything other then work her up enough to really break you in. You can just barely hear the rustle of fabric over your heartbeat, gloved hands tugging you closer and forcing you to press right up against the edge of the chair. It's almost uncomfortable, the way the chair presses against your chest, but she always has you teetering on that fine edge.

"Perhaps you can be trained after all." Signora's voice is like a balm, the heat of her body driving away the cold and urging you impossibly closer, until you feel her hand guide you down just as her fingers slip out of your mouth again– right up until you feel her cock against your cheek. "Show me that you can be obedient, mutt, and maybe I'll let you sit on my lap."

You know she's just dangling a treat just out of reach, but you can't help but reach for it anyway.

Your tongue drags across the underside of her cock, so slow you can hear the hiss that rattles in her chest halfway between pleasure and impatience. You take your time anyway, lingering until you reach the tip and press a kiss against it. You almost wish you could see her face, but she's never been fond of expressing anything outwardly when you can see it– just the idea of her brows furrowed, of her face flush and her lip caught between her teeth..it's enough.

It's not hard to imagine it anyway when the heat grows hotter, nearly turning the room into an oven before she catches herself. You aren't stupid enough to mention it, but your smile must be enough, because a low growl makes you shiver– so you drag your tongue from the base to the tip again, revel in the way it throbs beneath your tongue. For a moment you almost have something like control, your saliva dripping down her aching cock as you lap at it like a mutt.

But you're both growing impatient– the sharp click of her nails against the chairs arms makes you shudder, urging you to lift yourself up just enough to wrap your lips around the head with a muffled groan. You consider dragging it out just a moment longer, just to see if you can get her to whine, but she knows you better then you do– before you can even blink, her hand shoves you down. You, predictably, gag. Your throat burns from the stretch, but it's not unpleasant, eased by the pleasured hiss that tumbles from her lips. Signora at least has the mercy to let you get used to it for a moment before she drags you back up, the emptiness in your throat making you whine before she's shoving her cock back down your throat. Your eyes sting with unshed tears, your own sounds of pleasure muffled and garbled as she does it again– and again.

"Finally quiet, mutt?" She laughs, but it's strained– her voice quivers slightly as she fucks your throat like your nothing but a toy to her, drool dribbling down your chin and tears staining the blindfold. "If I knew it was this easy to shut you up, I'd have done it a long time ago."

You so badly want to do something, but with your hands tied behind your back and her fucking your face so rough, so fast, you can barely even think..there's not much you can do but let her, your cunt clenching around nothing. You really hope she wasn't lying about that reward, for once. You're practically dripping on her floor while she uses you, just barely able to squeeze your thighs together for a fraction of friction.

It only serves to make you more desperate, though.

"Fuck– or maybe you're too stupid to know better. You'd just let any pretty woman with a cock use you," Her breathing was getting heavier, more strained, but her grip on your hair didn't relent. Neither did the harsh thrust of her hips, her cock constantly hammering into your throat until you felt dizzy. "You're lucky I'm even willing to train a mutt like you."

Your mind starts to feel fuzzy, the words blending together until she digs her nails into your scalp and forces you down again– and keeps you there. You nearly gag again when you feel her shudder, her cock throbbing in your mouth as her cum spills down your throat, your hands straining against the silk binding them together. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, nostrils flaring and your body tensing– you don't even realize you'd briefly lost consciousness until your find yourself on her lap, rather then on your knees, her hands brushing the strands of hair stuck to your face with sweat out of your eyes.

It's the most gentle she's been all night– and likely as gently as she will be tonight. You lean into her touch anyway, groaning softly and shuddering at the taste of her on your tongue mixed with her cock throbbing against your thigh.

"I'm not done yet, darling. Did you think I'd let you get away with a little light training?" She laughs, cupping your jaw and pressing a kiss that's far too gentle to your cheek, the warmth of her body almost suffocating– but you welcome it, like you always do.

So you nod, smiling drowsily and spreading your legs like a good pet should.

#asks #anon #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #minors dni #writing tag #la signora x reader #signora x reader #la signora smut #signora smut #does it count as pet play if she just thinks shes Better Then You #signora has an ego and shes going to weaponize it #give her an inch and shes putting a collar on you (please) #but also some of yall clocking my favs too easily PLEASE..... #i am a simple lesbian i see pretty women w questionable morals i get on my knees and bark #somehow signora is softer then arle though lbr. signora is like 50/50 soft vs rough okay #other times shes going 2 fuck ur brains out hope u learn real quick how to tell her mood that day #signora being a gentle lover is so personal to me though likeeee okay......... #she can be sweet when she wants to you just gotta get thru the 500 layers of trauma and Anger first #smth smth not letting herself love ppl who burn too easily or smth idk im just here to get railed #anyway does she need another dog. i can bark. i can do tricks. #passes out

[butdaddyilovehimmm]

SUITS 3.06: ENDGAME

#harvey specter #suits #suits usa #suits tv #im fucking BARKING #why is he so hot #im on my knees #i need him biblically #i need him BAD #down bad for this man #down bad crying at the gym #the rolled up slevves??? the walk??? #gifs

[pockettwinzz]

@ja3yun I might never get over this hoon 🙈

#my 2024 roman Empire #haze talks! #sksksk #fuck hes so hot #like him swearing has me on my knees #barking #my husband #my man my man my man #my man <3 #also who's he looking so cute for #(prolly me 🤭) #his teeth- #can't help it

[archer-fb]

Just imagining katsuki and ejirou coming home from a stressful patrol and just taking it out on you in bed.

Saying stuff like "god, you were fucking made for us, made for us to destroy your slutty holes"

And constantly degrading you but ofc giving the best aftercare with a massage and a bubble bath

God these 2 have a some sort of hold over me, I have a problem

#kiribaku x reader #kirishima drabble #bakugo drabble #kiribaku x male reader #bnha drabble #🏹 - Archers meaningless rambles #🏹 - Archers nonsense #🏹 - kiribaku posts #this is an obsession with these 2 #they got me barking for them and on my knees for these men

[samodivaa]

Winter Soldier x Asset!Reader Warnings - violence, blood kink, smut, but soft? lmao Words - 1800

You are a silhouette to his blurry vision, the faint light from the lights on the cell painting lines of fire on your hair as you struggle on the floor. A shiver of pleasure runs down his spine from your beauty. His heart pounds in his chest, and he can feel blood rushing to his groin. Wetting his lips, he circles you like a hawk. "Come on" he commands, in a heavily accented voice "Stand up" he growls, cracking his knuckles and staring pointedly at your knife on the floor. “Fuck you” you say after a few swallows. “You have no finesse when you don’t control your anger” you glance down and see that a glove of blood covers your lower arm from the elbow to the wrist. The arm is throbbing, stiff, and painful  “No technique”

He dares mock you—he is fully aware that you are trained to this cruelty, the scars of hatred and anger shall be forever part of you—and a tragedy doesn’t need blood and death; it's enough that it all be filled with that majestic sadness that is the tragedy of your fate at Hydra—

Soldat sees it. The catastrophe is you. He plays with it.

You are embarrassed about your blood, its redness, the way it is just coming out of you, with no concern for your well being, but you slowly climb back to your feet—you respond to suffering and pain, bleed the same color—the only humanity left as a reminder of you actually were. Of course, there is sublime ecstasy born of terror—drops of blood glitter on his knuckles and face. You both need pain; need blood—but maybe there is something beyond that. With the blood dripping from your lips and arm, you look horrifyingly lovely and breathtakingly attractive to Soldat. He can smell something. Lust. He wants to taste it now. You are meant to paint each other. Be it with your art or your blood. And once you lock eyes, blue on brown, the fight needs to be fought—but the scent of lust is headier than blood.Those deep blue, calculating eyes. They make you nervous, but you’d be lying if you say the intimidation doesn’t turn you on.

You feel immensely powerful—like your whole self is contained in just your teeth; they're ready to bite, you are made of anger, gripped with tension. Not even decades of fighting could dispel the entrenched anxiety that torments you right now.

Soldat can feel himself tenses up all over, and though he tries to keep it subtle, he can tell that you notice. You are eager to engage, launching forwards and Soldat is confused by the sudden attack, fear creeping down on him, putting him in a disadvantage. He can’t block the hard kick to his stomach which brings him down to the ground, but he stands tall and firm, glaring back at you.

You are watching him intently. It's an unpleasant feeling, to be under your scrutiny. It makes his skin prickle and burn. He looks away, tensing his muscles against the shiver that ripples through them.

He suddenly launches at you, but you are too tired to move—for a second there's no pain, just numbness and weight in all limbs as your back hits the cold ground before your brain can register it, ringing in your ears follow. Agony drenches your body, in this disconnected from any control state. You don't scream, nor yell of fear or surprise, just a broken-sounding whine that escapes your teeth as your body falls back. „What now, Samodiva?“ he mocks, with the approximation of authority he can steal at this moment.

But his mind refuses to focus on sparring anymore: you are sprawled on the floor, soaked in blood, your chest rising with every breath you take. He is on top of you, pressing you against the cold ground beneath his rock-solid body, wet hair shadowing his face. You look up at him as he hovers above you, coiled and ready to strike. “You have no finesse when you are turned on” you say that to the beast in a man’s skin, a monster you know too well under the thick stains of blood and gore sheeting from his skin “No technique”

His wild blue eyes swing up to meet yours—something has snapped in him. He is too possessive, too hungry. Brutal, but somehow passionate—you will love to tame him...but you will adore him even if he turns out untamable.

“What now, Winter? Will you kill me? Or worse: kiss me?” As if a demon is beneath him, your curves cushioning him, your muscular body lush and partly feminine, your eyes flashing—and all he wants is to kiss you. His eyes are full of emotions—seemingly fragile and lovely, but these same eyes—can churn blood that can rake your soul, but no death would be sweeter than this. His lips spread in a thin smile—you both stay away from your essential natures, just the sight of your blood can make some Soldat orgasm. You spent a decade with those same eyes-scared, lost, lusty-staring back at you. You know what he wants. “Fuck me, just like last time” Remembering. Forgetting. You are not sure which is worse. You want to be able to breathe around him sometimes—to be able to love him by memory and choice. He inhales deeply at the base of your throat "So sweet and pure" He whispers, going to your earlobe. His tongue rolls around the skin, nibbling gently and you shiver, a mixture of fear and excitement flowing through you. Your lip is bleeding slightly and he licks the blood away. Salt, humanity—your blood has such a tenebrous taste.

Suddenly, your tongues are clashing, teeth nipping, breaths gasping as he runs his hands along your body, and you do the same along his, as you work together, clutching each other—all of the anger and frustration is pouring out in bruising kisses, fast and wet and greedy. Soldat is your outlet, the only thing that helps you, and he gladly takes these punishing kisses before pulling away. His metal thumb slides up over your bottom lip, pressing into the corner of your mouth. You are about to respond when his thumb pushes past your lips to stroke your tongue with just enough pressure to make you moan. “You are the only thing I own" His throbbing, aching erection touches your clothed core. His eyes darkened, lips twisting into a smirk as he is leaning back away from you. Your blood. Gushing out, it darkens your lovely hair until each strand is as heavy as the shadows of his mind. "You're so goddamn obedient” he continues, his eyes are still lidded, voice sharp “So easy to control" your head is fuzzy with arousal, cheeks flushed with confusion—why is he talking so much? The monster inside him is finally silent—his deep blue eyes are all innocent and needy. Everyone says love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts. Brainwashing hurts. This way of living hurts. Not being able to remember hurts. In this reality Soldat is the only thing in this world that covers up all pain and makes you feel wonderful for a while. No, it is not love—but it is the closest you have ever been to it. You are actually in love, but you feel a sort of tender curiosity. You crave for his mouth, his voice, his hair.

Your hand goes rigid inside his own—you can tell that he is thinking with his disturbed soul when he moves his gaze to your connected hands, his mouth wrestling with the words and thoughts. He watches through a lust-drunk haze. He is oppressively hard, and he desperately wants to fuck you, but at the same time—he wants to embody this moment in his mind. Soldat’s blue eyes eerily, crystalline—beautiful, endless, full and yet seems empty. A small animal noise rumbles across his tongue when you pull him by the harness. He breathes roughly through his nose as his hands stay still at both sides of your head. His soft lips connect to your neck gently and you let out a gasp as he trails his teeth over the pulse point. Soldat pulls away from your throat and looks into your eyes—this is one of the rare moments when your soul dips near his —sea-colored orbits catch the fire of lust.

He worms one hand between your bodies, opening his pants, freeing his length and he hisses as he strokes his cock from base to tip, a slow drag of his hand around his thick length. Then he proceeds in pulling down your trousers and panties with a single swift motion, there is feral hunger in eyes—as he grasps your hips, lifting them off the ground so he can drill into you at an angle, hitting the spot that have you arching off the cold concrete and quietly calling his name in a moment of pleasure, your slick coating his cock nicely so that it slides in without any pain. “Look at me while you fuck me, Winter” Your hands travel to his arms and lace behind his strong neck, pulling him closer for a kiss. He gladly obliges, lowering his face enough for you to peck him and lick his lips as he thrusts out of you and pushes back in immediately after, experimentally, slowly. He sets a steady and harsh pace, drilling his cock into your warmth with an unforgiving force. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent sharply as he keeps fucking hard you; your loud moans in his ear only coaxes him to go faster, deeper. It's not your face, but the expressions on it. It's not your voice, but what you say. It's not how you look in that body, but the thing you do with it. “Don’t stop” His jaw clenches, tense, and you know he is on the verge of coming, too. Your legs wrap around his waist and grip him like a vice as you spasm harshly beneath his weight. Your cunt convulsing around him and the seductive purr in your voice undoes him completely. He throws his head back with a guttural shout, pressing deep into you as he comes apart, filling you with his release. Your eyes meet—you know that emotion, but you are both too detached from it to comprehend it. It is too human.

#winter soldier x asset!reader #request #winter soldier smut #barking on my knees for him #winter soldier imagine #BARKING RN #barking respectfully #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #smut fic #daddy winter fr #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky smut

[zaynesjasminpetal]

WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS.

Rafayel I’m on my knees. 🧎‍♀️

#lads #lads rafayel #love and deepspace #rafayel #god of the sea #on my knees #bark bark #feral

[sunniss]

nueng caring about palm in #ep.2 Never Let Me Go (2022)

#never let me go #asianlgbtqdramas #asiandramasource #bldramaedit #palm #my gifs #palm x nuengdiao #nueng reminds me of a chihuahua actually... #tsk tsk tsk #violent to an extent but all bark and bite #also how hostile he was when palm came and now he's doing all this #also im still giffing monsam just its 1am rn and my knees are aching so tbc

[puddingpawprints]

new years resolutions

1. be tickled

#pom barks #PLEAEEEEEEEEEAS #ON MY FUCKING KNEES DUDE