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#but bucky was MY first dog
bearfeathers · 1 year
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i have to put bucky down a week from today and let me tell you that trying not to pussy out is so hard
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johnslittlespoon · 1 month
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this is me hitting y'all with a "hear me out" on bikeriders!gale and college student leaving!john. pleasepleaseplease think of the cliche daddy issues. the slow burn angst. strong intimidating but softie biker bf pulling up to pretty college bf's house. gale passing his helmet to john while john's parents watch from the kitchen window in horror as their son gets on the back of a rugged tatted man's motorcycle. john stealing gale's hoodie when he stays over so he can 'accidentally' wear it home the next day and bury his face in the smell of gale's cigarettes and cologne and gasoline and open road.
or, alternatively, bikeriders!gale is leaving!john's friend's single dad lmaoo. classic dilf crush trope. john makes a new friend at college and the first time he goes to his house he meets his dad and is like fuck. well, that's it for me. he crushes hard from day one and has no idea gale feels the same way because he's dense and gale's not gonna make the first move obviously. and god, the miscommunication and the secret flirting and the hookups and dancing around feelings because neither is sure if it's more than sex for the other. i could fill three books with this shit genuinely <3
idk i just think the contrast of both of them would be such a fun dynamic to explore and they'd look fucking beautiful together :-)
(this is definitely not me gauging the interest were i to make this my next chaptered fic btw. absolutely not. xx)
(edit: we're going with the first idea lads. world building is happening. i'm in my mind palace. we're yapping under #leaving bikeriders au lol)
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not-the-blue · 8 months
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Saw this and this is SO Clint Energy
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YEA
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tj-crochets · 1 year
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Two Bucky Bears!
Aka my hand is not big enough to hold two Bucky Bears in a way that keeps the pile of shoes on the floor below this cabinet out of frame in any way but this one lol
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allthingsbucky · 1 year
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so in the last two weeks i have turned 31 and also found a kitten under my shed
Here’s Elliot!!
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vampirologist · 2 years
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there’s a little guy. sleeping on my bed
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cloudystevie · 3 months
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scary my god you're divine
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader
word count || 3235
summary || he would do anything for you.
warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, possessive! bucky, a little bit of subspace, choking, little bit of exhibitionism kink, minor pain play, daddy kink (only three times okay i'm sorry i am who i am), degradation, unprotected sex
author's note || 18+ ONLY. not proofread yet. my very first request in a very long time! Anonymous asked: Could you write a Dombucky x Subreader? And if you wouldn't mind jealous!bucky, already established relationship and his dog tags on reader? hope you enjoy nonnie! as always feel free to send in requests or any asks! feel free to reblog! enjoy!
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
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Today, a select few from the team are supposed to train the new agents, preparing them for the physical aspect of being an agent. Some made it fun or tolerable, like Steve and Sam, who were born leaders and charismatic. Natasha and Wanda enjoyed supervising the sparring sessions. Tony and Bruce enjoyed using technology to throw new obstacles at the agents.
Sometimes literally.
Unfortunately, your grumpy boyfriend, Bucky, just did not find any joy in training days. He didn’t like giving out instructions and praise unless it was you who was under him. He didn’t like supervising weak punches and miscalculated throws. And technology was just a straight-up no for him.
Usually, he could make himself useful with Steve, throwing out no-nonsense orders without making himself a massive part of the effort.
You were taking the elevator down to the gym floor. Fury had instructed you to check everything out and ensure everything went according to the itinerary. 
The doors open, and you glance around to ensure no immediate problems before letting your gaze fall on Bucky; his eyes are already on you. You offer him a bright smile, which he returns with a smirk, and your stomach flutters like it does every time you see him. You’re about 7 feet away from your boyfriend before you feel a hand on your lower back. You startle and turn around to face the newest agent. He has quickly climbed through all of SHIELD’s tests and proven himself to be of great value. He chatted you up last week at Tony’s charity ball, and you tried to let him down gently since you were already happily taken. Bucky was on a mission that day, and you didn’t want to add to his mental load by telling him about some punk who wouldn’t leave you alone.
Apparently, said punk, cannot take no for an answer.
“Back for more, cutie? You finally break up with your imaginary boyfriend?” Marcus teases, but really, he sounds more taunting than playful. You glance over your shoulder as you move away from his grip, and you already see Bucky glaring directly at the spot where Marcus’ hand was on your back. The stopwatch he was holding in his flesh hand shatters, and he doesn’t even flinch when Steve and Sam apologize for him, asking what was wrong as discreetly as they could but one glance over to where you were uncomfortably held hostage by the lean brunet man told them everything they needed to know. 
Bucky cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders up as he stalks towards you two. His looming presence is felt before you can see him in your peripheral vision. You glance up at him and take an instinctive step back toward his hulking body, breathing a sigh of relief because Marcus has to let up now.
He doesn’t.
“Oh hey, Sergeant Barnes, if you don’t mind I’m actually trying to talk to this chick so…” 
The way he talks about you as if you’re not right there makes you physically recoil. Bucky’s eyes harden; he’s not even squaring up to his full stature, and he already easily dwarfs Marcus. Bucky takes a step forward, and everyone in the room comes to a standstill. Everyone shuddering at the sheer anger rolling off of Bucky and the stupidity of Marcus.
Marcus huffs out a laugh. Maybe he gets a little pasty when he’s nervous because he seems to be digging himself a deeper hole when he says something about how many girls fall at his feet and Sarge, you've got to calm down. She’s not worth all that.
In an instant, Steve and Sam command everyone to return to their tasks, and the room begins to bustle again, but with a specific weary energy that was not there before. The very next second, Marcus is picked up by the collar of his black t-shirt and slammed against the wall, the room rattling with the force of it as all the recruits try to ignore the spectacle before them. 
“Touch her again, and I will kill you,” Bucky promises. “If you look at her, I will kill you. If you even think about her, I will fucking kill you. Understand?” His voice is a low grumble, the words resounding and reverberating as you watch Marcus sputter out panicked apologies and his flailing body while Bucky still looks so self-assured and composed. It's as if he’s not scaring a man to death while simultaneously making you drool.
You call out Bucky’s name, and he looks at you over his shoulder, pinning Marcus with one final glare and shove before letting him go as the agent does the walk of shame to the washroom. It’s almost like you’re frozen in your spot. You’ve seen Bucky get aggressive on missions before, but watching him be so willing to defend you, stand up for you when you couldn’t, not even hesitating for a second when he threatened to kill for you. And the worst part is, you were confident he was dead serious. 
Even worse, something about the principle of the situation was really doing it for you.
On the outside, it might have seemed like you were in shock or panic due to the agents’ actions, so Bucky whisked you away to a private interrogation room on the floor above the gym. The whole elevator ride there, his hand is protectively on your lower back, and you just watch the rigid set of his jaw and the anger and possessiveness written all over his features with unmistakable doe eyes. The air in the elevator is thick, and neither of you says a word. Before you know it, Bucky is easily lifting you and placing you on the metal table in the middle of the dull room, and his eyes are scanning yours for any hint of panic or if you’re upset. His hands cup your face gently, the cool vibranium soothing against your heated skin, and he finally breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta say something, baby. Are you okay? After this, that idiot’s going to be gone. I’m sorry if seeing me like that upset you, sweetheart-” Your rushed words cut off his ramble, “I thought that was really hot.” You say quietly and watch as Bucky’s face contorts from one of worry to one of confusion. 
“The way you stood up for me, you were so nonchalant about killing for me. I can’t lie, James. That kind of did something for me.” You continue, biting your lip and scanning him for his reaction, hoping he didn’t take your words in the wrong way. 
He’s silent for a moment. His chest moving steadily with each breath against yours. 
The next moment, his lips are pressed against yours, and you let a surprised squeak out. Your mouth slots open when his wandering hands roughly squeeze your thigh through your satin pants, getting dangerously close to the heat pulsing between your thighs. Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bucky slips his tongue inside your mouth and you buck your hips to seek some friction against your needy core. The kiss is passionate and renders your breathless as he consumes all of your senses. All you can think, see, smell, hear, and feel is James. 
His name falls from your lips in a gasp, you reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, letting your head lull to the side when he peppers sloppy kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck and biting and licking on your sweet spot. You swat at his firm bicep, “You’re gonna leave a mark James, stop it.” Your attempt at scolding him is weak, even to your own ears.
You feel Bucky smirk against your sensitive neck, his wandering hands cupping your ass and shamelessly groping and swatting at you. “Oh really? That’s too bad baby. Gonna be a pain to cover up.” He remarks, voice dripping in cockiness.
You scoff and bite back a whimper when he grinds his undoubtedly hard length against your clothed center. Your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders, a shiver crawling up your spine when a particularly slow grind nudges your aching clit. “You’re such a bad influence you know that?” Your voice lacks any real conviction. Your hips move in tandem with his, both of you sharing messy kisses and your bodies thrumming with lust and pent up energy. 
“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about looking at you.” Bucky says assuredly, and you can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips at his words. Your hands shakily going to undo his black jeans as he messily pulls yours pants down, being considerate enough not to rip them considering there was still a little more than an hour until the SHIELD training day was over. “Bucky I need you, need you to please-” Your voice is shaky and desperate, as you struggle to unbutton his jeans. He shushes you gently, cooing at you sweetly as he easily unbuttons his jeans, just enough for you to promptly pull out his erect cock. Your mouth practically waters at his length and girth, and you spit onto your hand and begin rubbing his length, swiping your thumb gently over the tip making him hiss and push his hips into your hand. 
You bite your lip and look up at him through hooded eyes, and he slaps your hand away before tearing your panties in half, the top half covering your swollen clit and the bottom scrap of fabric falling limply against the cool table. You barely have time to scold him for ripping your panties before he’s shoving his whole length inside you in one fluid thrust. Your back arches, your legs wrapping around his waist as your buddy erupts in a shiver, a short scream escaping your lips. He swallows the noise with his mouth pressed against yours as he grunts into your mouth, waiting only a short second before he begins to thrust inside you. His thrusts are slow but hard, making the heavy metal table scrape against the floor with the force of each pass of his hips into yours. 
“You’re mine, mine to touch. Mine to have. Mine to take care of.” Bucky grunts out, his movements picking up in pace as emotion swirls in his voice, his metal hand covering your neck, forcing you to stay upright in a position that allowed you to feel all of him. You sob out, digging your nails into his bicep and nodding your head, already succumbing to that foggy feeling you felt when you were so close to your boyfriend. He tuts at you, swatting your face with his flesh hand with enough force to make you moan out and clench around his length. 
“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you’re not going dumb on me that quick. Use your words, tell me you’re mine. Tell me I’m yours.” His voice is commanding and you force yourself to look at him, pulling on his shirt and tugging on his dog tugs to get him closer, your foreheads pressing against each other as his thrusts continue to get faster. “I’m yours James, only yours. You’re only mine. No one else. Just you.” Your words are slurred as he groans out a good girl in approval and decides that he wants your shirt off. He skillfully manages to slip your navy blue long-sleeve off and unhooks your bra in one motion, freeing your tits to the cold air of the room, forcing the buds into sensitive peaks which Bucky is quick to take advantage of. His hands squeeze and pull at your tits, tugging and pinching cruelly at your nipples making you whine. 
Your bodies are pressed so close to one another, each pull of his hips making his pelvis rub against your aching clit, stray tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving and pushed up against Bucky.
If anyone were to walk in right now the picture would be nothing short of debauched. You completely bare on the table, Bucky completely clothed. Getting absolutely plowed if the screech of the metal against the floor was anything to go by. Your moans get higher in pitch and volume making Bucky grunt, another swat to your cheek making your brain foggy. “Shut the fuck up slut. You want everyone to see you getting fucked like the bitch in heat you are?” But if your moans and increasing wetness are anything to go by, yes, a deep and dark part of you does want that. Bucky laughs at you, shaking his head in faux disbelief and you wrap your lips around his dog tags, enjoying the soothing sensation brought by the cool metal. Bucky looks down at your lips wrapped around the dog tags he never seemed to take off and he let out a wrecked sound. You clench around him at the sound making his rhythm falter.
Before you can even process the loss of his proximity, your back is flat against the table and his dog tags are now around your neck, landing on your chest and glimmering in the dull fluorescent lighting of the room. Bucky slams himself back inside of you, the unmistakable squelch of your wetness filling up the room alongside both of your noises of pleasure. Your high-pitched and pornographic mewls and his low grunts and deep groans. You cry out his name as your head lulls to the side, eyes shutting in bliss as your fingers move to give your aching clit some attention. But Bucky lets out a disappointed grunt, grabbing your jaw in his hand and forcing you to maintain eye contact. “Look away from me again and I won’t let you cum for a fucking week stupid baby.” Bucky threatens. “You better fucking pay attention to who’s fucking you dumb. No need to close your eyes and imagine when you’ve got the real thing right here.”
Each of his words ignites a newfound purpose in Bucky as he pounds into you impossibly harder, his hand swatting against your cheek again and wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place to take all of his thrusts. He knows you always struggle to keep your eyes open and you don’t doubt that he will follow through on his threat. He has always enjoyed testing your weakness and pushing your limits. 
“Feels s’good. You’re so big Jamie. S’big, so good s’too good.” Your words are breathy and frail, your fingers rubbing quick circles around your aching button. A mean laugh rumbles in his chest as he watches the way his dog tags move with your tits, the sight is intoxicating and fuels Bucky to continue his torment. “There she is my dumb little baby. Couldn’t help yourself huh? Can’t help the way your brain goes quiet when I have my dick inside you.” His words should be humiliating but they only spur you on, your fingers on the verge of cramping but the jolts of pleasure are so overwhelming you can’t stop. “Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 
“That’s it baby, I know, I know it feels so good huh. Daddy’s here baby, Daddy’s gonna take care of his needy baby.” Bucky’s head falls back on a moan when you clench around him, your walls pulsing and a ring of cream forming around the base of his cock. Your orgasm was surely just a few moments away and Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk.
He folds your legs at the knee, sliding you closer to him with the pressure he has on your throat, the angle making him rub against your sweet spot with each deliriously pleasurable thrust. You squeal out his name, getting even louder than before and he shoves his dog tags into your mouth, muffling your garble out unintelligeble pleads to cum. With one hand Bucky squeezes your throat, and with the other he pinches at your nipples, tugging the sensitive flesh before trailing his hand down your body and slapping your hand away from your clit, he moves his lips down to your ears, licking up your earlobe before whispering his command, “Cum. Cum right fucking now or you don’t get to cum at all.” His fingers pinch your clit and the sudden burst of pain has you tensing your legs up, squealing out nonsense around the dog tags in your mouth and reaching your peak. Your body shakes against the table as Bucky pounds you through your high, his words of encouragement falling on deaf ears as you teeter between consciousness and unconsciouness. His body overwhelming your mind and soul. 
His fingers release your throat and you look up at him with watery eyes, bringing him down to rest your foreheads against each other as he nears his own high. Your lips are pressing against each other, “There isn’t a single person in the world I wouldn’t kill for you. I would do anything for you. You are everything to me.” Bucky murmurs in a pussy-drunk stupor. But the words are true, he has said them to you before and will say them a thousand times again. You taught him how to live again, not just survive. 
A broken cry falls from your lips from sensitivity and Bucky’s impassioned thrusts turn sloppy as he moans out your name, pulling you impossibly closer as he fills you with his cum. At the feeling of being completely stuffed by him, your second release is triggered and you shake in his hold as he comes down from his high. He presses lazy kisses against your lips and rubs his hands soothingly up and down your body, easing you out of your submissive state. He gently pulls himself out, using the handkerchief he carries around to wipe your thighs clean, but letting his cum keep your pussy messy. He quickly wipes himself off and helps you dress yourself. 
A few more giggly kisses and you’re pretty much ready to go back down to the gym. Just in time to catch the final thing on today’s agenda: sparring. Bucky walks one step behind you, his hand back again on your lower back protectively as a path is cleared to the front of the ring where your friends are supervising Marcus and another recruit preparing for the second round of their match. Natasha and Wanda offer you knowing smirks and you roll your eyes with heat creeping up cheeks as you shyly glance up at Bucky through your eyelashes to find him already looking at you with a stupid smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and watches with intent as Steve and Sam coach their respective agents. 
“Looking strong, Marcus!” Bucky calls out and you swat his chest making him laugh. Marcus takes one look at you, Bucky’s dog tags now around your neck and falling on your shirt, teeth imprints on your neck, and swollen lips. Poor Marcus falters, and the other recruit takes advantage of his distraction and easily tackles him to the ground, winning the second round. Bucky takes a single step closer to the ring where Sam is helping Marcus up, and the smirk on your arrogant boyfriend’s face is adorable. “Better luck next time buddy,” he says supportively. Sam flicks Bucky in the forehead, unable to hide the smile on his face, “Dumbass.”
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jen-with-a-pen · 3 months
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𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦
summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.
parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader
word count: 6.5K
warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum
a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.
If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!
gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥
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𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is. 
Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter–  to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day. 
You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.
When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.
Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.
After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.
You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week. 
With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.  
Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together. 
Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”
The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival. 
‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗
A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’ 
“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door. 
“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.
You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.
Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger. 
“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.
It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder. 
The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit. 
“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.
“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip. 
Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing. 
“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.
You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.  
“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.
Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.
“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”
“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink. 
Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it. 
You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time. 
You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell. 
Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.
The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.
“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear. 
“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”
White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.
He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.
“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.
His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.
You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below. 
With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.
“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost. 
“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape. 
“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”
He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully. 
“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.
“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.
“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”
He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.
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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium. 
There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form. 
Your face burned.
Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.” 
He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.
♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.
You swallowed a groan. 
“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear. 
“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”
“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”
“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”
Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours. 
“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.” 
You wanted to take his finger and break it.  
You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.
You doubted it was convincing.
“Fine.” 
He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion. 
When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.
“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”
“When the hell did you–”
“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.
“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance. 
He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.
The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles. 
“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.
Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.
It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike. 
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The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”
“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. 
Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–
“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously. 
“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side. 
“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.
“Because there’s only one fucking bed?” 
“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.
You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”
His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward. 
You swallowed. “You heard me.”
One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard. 
Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body. 
“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.
“Look at me!” 
“No! Fuck– Get off me!” 
With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.
You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.
“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.” 
His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”
You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone. 
“Is that all, Sergeant?” 
His Adam's apple bobbed.
“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.
“You heard me.” 
The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged. 
“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.
“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”
Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.
“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you. 
And you let him.
“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.
“Holy–fuck, holy shit.” 
Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why. 
He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame. 
“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”
Your heart stopped.
“You’re telling me.”
Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door. 
Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy. 
Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.
Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however. 
He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?” 
You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”
“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.
“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release. 
“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.
“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”
He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”
“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”
“Number fuckin’ one.”
The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core. 
Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.
“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.
He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs. 
“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass. 
SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”
SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”
SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.” 
Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him. 
“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”
You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure. 
“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you. 
“Fuck! Again! Please, again!” 
He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you. 
“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode. 
“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”
“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.
For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile. 
“Thanks.”
He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”
You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”
“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.
“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”
“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.
1K notes · View notes
holylulusworld · 5 months
Text
Jealousy a la Bucky
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Summary: He’s not jealous.
Pairing: (Soft)Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: jealous Bucky, Bucky is smitten for the reader, Steve being a tease, fluff, flirting
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He’s not jealous. Never. He’s not even looking your way when you talk to one of his business partners. Nope. He’s not squaring his jaw or balling his hands into fists. No, of course not.
What he does is sulk at the bar, a pout on his lips, and a grumpy expression on his face. He nips at his drink while following your every move.
“That her?” Steve finally asks. He watched his friend stare at you from afar for almost half an hour. Now he wants to tease him. “I guess she’s good at making new friends, huh? A pretty dame like her. All alone. Wearing a dress like that.”
“First and final warning,” Bucky points his index finger at his friend and brother-in-crime. “I saved your life more than once. But I will take it if you say one more thing about that woman.”
“Aw, it finally happened,” sipping at his drink Steve watches his friend frown deeply. You giggle at something Clint Barton, one of his confidants and notorious weapon dealers, said. “James Buchanan Barnes is in love.”
“Shut up, punk,” Bucky grunts. “If you say one more word, you’ll lose your tongue and more.” He angrily glares at Barton, swearing on his mother’s grave he’ll kill the man if he dares to touch you. “I’m not in love.” 
He’s not in love. Not at all. Of course, not. James Buchanan Barnes, a notorious mobster, and stone-cold weapon dealer doesn’t fall in love.
Then, why can’t he take his eyes off you, his sweet new assistant? The woman taking care of his life. “She brings me food and makes my appointments. Y/N is only my assistant. Stop acting like I lost my dead heart to that beautiful, caring, and sweet girl.”
“You are so in love with her,” Steve grins and raises his glass. “To James Buchanan Barnes, the most wanted bachelor who finally got tamed. I hope you know I want to be your best man at your wedding.”
Bucky glares at Steve. He wants to say something, or (and) punch his friend’s face when someone calls his name. Your sweet voice brings him out of his rage and back to reality. 
“Mr. Barnes, you should eat something,” you clear your throat to get your boss’s attention. “Sir, I got you a plate filled with all the things you like.”
“All the things I like?” He drops his eyes to the plate you hold. “You mean all the things you like, doll.”
You giggle at the pet name. Bucky Barnes is a dangerous man, and you should be afraid to be even close to him. Oddly, you feel the safest around your boss. He’s a big teddy bear when it comes to you.
“Fine, I got you the same things I like so we can share.”
“You want to share the food with Bucky?” Steve swallows thickly when his friend snaps his head toward him. “He’s a food thief. You should keep a close eye on that food.”
“I like sharing,” you softly say. “Mr. Barnes often forgets to eat. I made it my mission to take care of him and his well-being.”
Steve chokes on his drink at the look Bucky gives you. Puppy dog eyes. James Buchanan Barnes looks at you like you are a miracle to him. 
“Uh-cool,” the blonde says. “I’ll grab some food too. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N.”
“Same,” you are busy offering food to your boss and barely look at Steve. “Now, what do you want to taste first?”
‘Your lips’, Bucky thinks to himself but doesn’t say it out loud. “What do you recommend?”
“We could start with the salmon and then, you should try the green asparagus. It’s delicious and the best I ever ate. OH, and they have the best desserts, Bucky.” You gasp as you just called your boss by his name. “I’m sorry, Sir…I didn’t…I…”
“My name sounds like a melody on your tongue,” Bucky grabs the salmon to wolf it down. You just stare at him, and let his words sink in. 
“That was…” you snort. “Oh my god! So funny. I mean…sorry…but…that was the lamest pick-up line ever,” you step closer to whisper in his ear. “You know, if you like me, you can just ask me out.”
“It was poetic and—” He tries to argue until he realizes you kinda asked him out. “Do you want to go on a date with me, doll?”
“Phew, finally,” you smirk. “I wouldn’t have made it through the night if I talked to Mr. Barton for much longer. He wanted me to have a look at his bow. I still don’t know what he meant.”
“His bow?” Bucky hiccups. “That bastard wanted to show you his bow?”
“Hmm…I told him that you already offered to show me your gun.”
“Right now?” He nervously shifts on his feet, and hopefully looks at you.
“No,” you pat his chest and smile. “I don’t look at a man’s gun before the second date…or the third.”
“I bet you’ll make an exception for me,” he takes the plate out of your hands and throws it over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll order room service for us.”
“I’m keeping you up on that promise, Sir…”
You will have room service, in Paris only a few hours later…
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 months
Text
Cute In Your Uniform » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: DBF!Beefy Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky thinks Y/N looks cute in her new cheer uniform.
Warnings: Fluffy ending, Smut (18+), language, age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of alcohol, secret relationship, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, praise kink, Bucky’s dog tags and red henley, use of pet names
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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You were embraced in a hug by your mom the second you walked through the door. You decided to visit your parents for the weekend.
“How are you, sweetie? Me and your dad haven’t seen you since the beginning of January.” Your mom says.
“I’m doing good.” You tell her. “The cheer team got new uniforms.” You say.
“Put it on! I want to see what it looks like!” She says with excitement.
You went upstairs to your bedroom and changed into your new cheer uniform. You looked in the mirror and ran your hands over it to smooth it out. You went back downstairs to show your mom.
“What do you think, mom?” You asked, giving your mom a little spin.
“I love it! You look so pretty in it! Go show your dad.” She says.
“Where is he?” You asked.
“Outside with Bucky.” She says.
Blush crept up on your cheeks. Let’s just say that you have a huge crush on your dad’s best friend.
“Hi dad!” You say, walking outside.
Your dad turned around, smiling when he seen you. He stood up and gave up a big hug, picking you up in the process, making you squeal.
“I can’t believe you’re home!” Steve putting you down. “Is this your new cheer uniform?” He asks.
“Yes. Do you like it?” You asked.
“I don’t like that it’s showing off a lot of skin, but you look beautiful in it.” He says.
On the other hand, Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You glanced at him to see him licking his lips.
“What do you think of my new cheer uniform, Mr. Barnes?” You asked.
“I think you look cute in your uniform, doll.” Bucky says, biting his lower lip and completely forgetting that Steve was right next to you.
“Stop staring at my daughter like that, jerk.” Steve says, glaring at his best friend.
“Sorry.” Bucky mumbles, taking a sip of his beer. “Your dad is right. It does show a lot of skin, but you do look beautiful in it.” He says.
“Thank you, Bucky.” You say, blushing uncontrollably.
“Sit down with us, sweetheart.” Steve says.
You sat down in a chair across from Bucky. Bucky reached in the cooler between him and Steve, handing you a beer.
“Bucky!” Steve scolds.
“What? She’s almost 23. She can have alcohol.” Bucky says, leaning back in his chair.
“He’s not wrong, dad.” You say, opening the beer and took a sip.
Steve playfully rolled his eyes at you and Bucky. You told your dad and Bucky about how you’re doing in your college classes and how well you’re doing in cheer.
“Steve, honey? We need to leave in a little bit if we’re going to make those reservations.” Your mom says to your dad.
“You guys are going on a date?” You asked.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you just got home, but we’ll spend the day together tomorrow. We can do whatever you want.” Steve says, kissing the top of your head.
“Ok. Have fun on your date.” You say, giving him and your mom a smile.
“You leaving, Buck?” He asks Bucky.
“I’m gonna stay. I don’t want Y/N to be alone her first night home in a while.” Bucky says, taking a sip of his beer.
“Ok. See you later.” He says, leaving.
You and Bucky were all over each other the second your parents left.
“I fucking missed this.” Bucky breathes.
“Me too.” You say against his lips.
You two pulled away from each other, looking deep in each other’s eyes. You stood up and walked to the door, motioning with your finger for him to follow you inside. Bucky was hot on your heels as he followed you to your bedroom. You closed and locked the door behind you. You grabbed the chain of Bucky’s dog tags and pulled him down for a hungry kiss. Bucky’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you against his body. His hands left your waist to roam your body, stopping on your ass cheeks and gave them a squeeze, making you gasp.
“This uniform is making me go fucking crazy, babydoll.” Bucky says breathlessly.
“Now you know how I feel when you’re wearing these damn henleys.” You say, licking your lips and admired his muscular form in the red henley.
Bucky playfully spanked your ass before sitting down on your bed. You sat on his lap, straddling him. His bulge pressed against your pussy through your wet panties.
“Who knows…” You start, kissing his neck. “Maybe I’ll let you fuck me in it after a game.” Your teeth nipped on his skin, hard enough to mark him up. “I’ll be all hot and sweaty.” You whispered in his ear.
“Don’t fucking tease me, doll.” Bucky growls, smacking your ass. “Take this off before I rip it off.” He orders.
You kiss him once more before getting off his lap. You pulled your cheer top over your head and dropped it on the floor. You turned around and reached your hands behind you to unzip your cheer skirt. You pulled it down your legs, bending down in the process to give Bucky an amazing view of your ass. You turned back around and reached your hands behind your back, unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the floor. You pulled your wet panties down your legs and playfully threw them at Bucky. He caught them and shoved them into the pocket of his jeans.
“It’s your turn to get naked, daddy.” You say.
You got on the bed as Bucky stood up. You watched as he took off his henley and dropped it on the floor. Your eyes fell upon the bulge in his boxers. You licked your lips at the sight of it.
“Is this what you want, doll face?” Bucky asks, referring to his cock.
“Mmm yes, daddy.” You hummed, biting your bottom lip.
Bucky took his boxers off. His cock hard and leaking with precum. He wrapped his right hand around his cock and pumped it as he got on the bed in between your spread legs.
“Tell me, babydoll…” Bucky starts. “You let any of those college boys touch what’s mine?” He asks.
“No, daddy. I’m yours.” You answered.
“That’s fucking right. You’re mine.” He says, almost growling.
Bucky rubbed his cock through your wetness. You moaned when his tip bumped your clit. He lined his cock at your tight entrance and slowly slid it inside of your pussy, inch by inch.
“Fuck…” Bucky groans. “It’s been a while since I fucked this tight pussy.” He says, watching as his cock disappeared into your pussy.
Bucky gave you a moment to let you adjust to his size since it’s been a while since you two have had sex. He leaned down and kissed your lips sweetly. You gave him the ok to start thrusting. He pulled out almost all the way, only leaving his tip inside of you and then thrusted back inside of you in a fast thrust.
“I fucking missed you.” Bucky says, followed by a moan.
“I missed you more.” You moaned.
“Yea?” He breathes. “Tell me how much you missed me.” He says.
“I missed having your lips on mine.” You started. “I missed- oh fuck! I missed the way your body feels against mine. The way your tongue feels on my pussy and the way you fuck me.” You say and moaned.
“I missed all of that too, babydoll.” Bucky starts. “Especially the feeling of your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He says.
Bucky leaned down and kissed along your neck, his teeth biting down hard enough to mark you up. His stubble scratched against your skin in a way you love so much. You moaned when you felt the cool metal of his dog tags touch your hot skin. You spread your legs wider and arched your back in pleasure, your chest touching his. This created a new angle for Bucky. His cock was able to go deeper and hit your sweet spot at just the right angle.
“Oh daddy! Fuck yes!” You moaned.
Your hands found their way to his back, your nails digging in his skin and leaving red scratch marks.
“You know…” Bucky starts and moans. “The night you sent me that picture of you in your panties and my shirt…” He pauses to moan. “I was tempted to drive up there and go to your dorm and fuck you.” He says.
You remember that night quite well. You and Bucky were texting and you decided to tease him a little by sending him a picture of you in your panties and his shirt.
Bucky kissed his way up your neck and jaw, finally reaching your lips and kissing you sloppy. His tongue slid past your parted lips, exploring every part of your mouth. You placed one of your hands on the back of his head to intensify the kiss. Your fingers tugged at the long strands of his hair. Bucky’s metal hand found its way to your clit and began rubbing it in circles. Your pussy squeezed around his cock, making him moan.
“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.” Bucky pants, leaning his forehead against your shoulder.
Bucky sat back on his knees and spread your legs more, watching as his cock disappeared inside of your pussy, covered in your wetness. He then put your legs over his shoulders and grasped onto the head and started thrusting harder, his dog tags dangling above your face.
“Look at that.” He breathes, glancing down at where the two of you are connected. “Taking my cock like the good girl I know you are.” He praises.
A moan left your lips when he called you a good girl.
“You like that, huh? You like being my good girl, don’t you, babydoll?” He asks.
“Mhmm yes!” You moaned. “I’m gonna cum!” You felt your orgasm building up. “Please let me cum.” You begged.
“Come for daddy, doll.” Bucky pants, rubbing your clit faster.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came, a loud moan left your lips. Bucky came inside of you soon after you came. He thrusted a few more times before pulling out and laying down next to you.
“That was amazing.” Bucky says breathlessly.
“Yea.” You say in agreement.
You moved closer to him and laid your head on his chest, your fingers playing with his dog tags.
“I hate keeping our relationship a secret.” You say.
“I know, doll. Me too.” Bucky says.
After a while, you and Bucky got dressed and went downstairs to watch a movie. Your parents came home soon after, making a beeline for their bedroom.
“You guys might want to turn the TV up.” Steve says as him and your mom went upstairs.
“Gross.” You mumbled, turning the TV up.
“Looks like they had a fun date night.” Bucky says, wrapping his arm around you and pulled you against his side.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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ellemj · 7 months
Text
Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 3
Bucky Barnes x Reader
**If you haven't read Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 yet, read those first!**
Summary: You and Bucky give into the chemical that's influencing your bodies in the most hellish way. Round one leaves him planning round two.
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, mention of choking, sex pollen (dubcon), possessive!Bucky, minimal use of y/n, teasing, profanity, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings &lt;3
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.
Word Count: 3.3k
Author's Note: Someone stop me, because I have another few thousand words of smut to add to this but I didn't want to post a whole novel and drive everyone away. Can you blame me though? As soon as the dog tags came into play my mind went rogue. Also, every single one of y'alls comments on part 2 made my whole night. Definitely going to be checking out a lot of y'alls blogs tomorrow. Enjoy this one!
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Something dark came over him as soon as your fingertips brushed over his dog tags. Something possessive and primal, something that only partially came from the chemical you were both exposed to. You saw it every bit as much as he felt it within himself, like a switch had been flipped. He couldn’t help himself honestly. If you weren’t going to let him kiss you, the only way he felt like he could pretend you were his was to see you in his dog tags. He wanted to watch you fall apart for him, with his name wrapped around your neck and falling from your parted lips. He would’ve been perfectly satisfied with feeling you fall apart for him as he kissed you, but no, you took that from him.
            You fight the urge to push him away as he brings his flesh hand up to the side of your face, cupping the curve of your jaw and looking down into your eyes. Too. Fucking. Intimate. What the hell is he trying to do here? Make love? Fuck fighting the urge, you push him back just like you did in the bathroom doorway, giving yourself enough space to step away from the wall and take a couple of steps into your room. As soon as you’re two steps from him, another stomach cramp hits you like a punch to the gut, and you’re doubling over just past the threshold of the door.
            “Stop fucking pushing me away and you won’t have to feel like this.” He spits out, quickly entering the room behind you and pushing your hair to the side to expose the back of your neck to him. He wastes no time in attaching his lips to your skin, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on each raised point of your spine above the collar of your t-shirt. If he can’t kiss your lips, he’ll kiss every other inch of you until you’re begging for him to give you the one thing that you asked him to withhold. Your breath hitches in your throat at the way even just his mouth on your neck makes the cramping in your stomach reside, allowing you to stand straight up once again.
            “Do we really need foreplay?” You ask between breaths. You hate how you’re already panting from his actions. You’re sure he can tell how needy you are, even though your words are making it sound like you can’t wait to get this whole thing over with. You’re trying so hard to convince yourself that this is a transaction, a swapping of favors between partners, and absolutely nothing more. You need this to be over with as fast as possible so you don’t have a moment to let yourself believe it’s really happening. You can’t dwell on the fact that you’re about to have sex with the one person that you trust above anyone else, the person that you put your life’s hands in every time you go out in the field. You can’t let your feelings creep into this. You need to hate him more than you’ve ever hated him right now, in this moment.
            “I don’t.” Bucky answers your rhetorical question, punctuating his response by grinding his hard-on against your ass, causing your t-shirt to pull up above your ass ever so slightly. He groans when he realizes the only thing between you both is his boxers and your panties. “But I’m not an ass, and we both know that physical touch is what’s helping the pain stop right now.” You want to argue with him but you know he’s right. Every part of you that he touches seems to feel instant relief.
            “You’re still an ass.” You retort. He laughs lowly in your ear as his hands find purchase on your hips.
            “Keep acting like you don’t need me to fuck the shit out of you and see where that gets you.” Biting your lip proves to be fruitless as you let out the sluttiest moan you’ve ever heard leave your own lips. Who knew dirty talk could be that much of a catalyst for you? Bucky is instantly encouraged by the prettiest sound he has ever heard sneaking past your lips, and he pushes you forward to the foot of the bed. You climb onto the mattress quickly, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer. You’re on autopilot now, moving up to the head of the bed as the mattress dips behind you. “Shirt off, now.”
            You’re getting really fucking tired of your body doing things without your permission, just because he gives you a command. You pull your shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor before he’s even fully on the bed. You don’t have time to overthink, to worry about how exposed you are right now, he doesn’t give you a second to form a thought. You feel his flesh hand wrap around your ankle and pull you toward him at the end of the bed until you’re flat on your back and he’s between your legs. Fuck. He’s good at this. He’s too good at this.
            “Look at me.” His tone is demanding and surprisingly calm considering his heart is beating out of his damn chest right now. He can hear his own heart beat in his ears and yet, all he can think about is how fucking pretty you look laid out in front of him like this. You watch as he slowly reaches up to his neck. He’s sitting on his knees in front of you, the sweat on his body gleams in the moonlight that streams in from the window across the room, highlighting every ridge and curve of his muscular form. You take your time dragging your eyes up his torso and once your gaze lands on the action of his hands, you swallow hard. He’s staring you right in the eyes, holding your lustful gaze as he lifts his dog tags up over his head and grips them in his flesh palm for a second. He looks down at them briefly, like they have so much meaning to him, before leaning over you and draping them over your head. You lift your neck and hold your hair to the side, allowing him to slide the chain down and rest the tags on your bare chest. He studies the sight before him, frozen in time. You don’t know it, but he’s memorizing the scene before him. Memorizing the way his name looks laying there on the smooth skin between your breasts, memorizing the way the tags shift with every inhale and exhale. Fuck. He’s done for. He shouldn’t have made you wear them. He knows that. But is he really thinking clearly? You’ve both been basically drugged. He can’t be held responsible for the stupid shit that he does now. Not when you’re laying here like this, ready to let him do anything to you. Well, anything except kiss you.
            “It hurts…” You whimper, dropping your head back on the pillow and closing your eyes as you wince. The stomach pain is back since he’s stopped touching you, and you’re noticing the wetness in your panties is approaching a near uncomfortable level. You want them off.
            “I know, baby, I know.” Bucky murmurs. He lowers himself down, keeping his weight on his arms beside your head. Baby? Fuck, you should have told him that pet names were off limits. As soon as you feel his hard length pressing against your soaked panties, your legs spread all on their own, and he rewards you with a soft kiss to your collarbone.
            “Fuck this.” You groan, reaching your hands down and pushing the waistband of your panties down. You only get them down a few inches when Bucky sits back once more, finishing the task for you. He drops them on the floor beside the bed and much to your relief, lays right back over you, sending your core into a frenzy of pleasure when he grinds his clothed cock against your clit. You bend your knees and spread your legs more, giving him all of the access that he needs to practically fuck you through his boxers. And he does just that. He ruts into you, giving your clit just the right amount of pressure and friction. Moans fall freely from your lips now, needy noises mixed with a few profanities and heavy sighs that make Bucky wonder how the hell you’ll sound when he’s actually inside you.
            “God, I can’t wait any longer, shit.” He groans. In one swift movement, he pushes himself off of you and stands beside the bed, pushing his boxers down his thighs and letting them fall to his feet as you watch. His cock, freed from the tight fabric it’s been trapped in for far too long now, stands against his lower abdomen, boasting an impressive size and making your mouth water. You have to mentally curse yourself and remind yourself that this is just a means to an end, nothing more. It can’t be anything more. But fuck, if he isn’t the most well-endowed man you’ve ever seen. He feels a surge of pride when he notices the way you’re staring at him, licking your lips and not showing a single ounce of shame. That’s one thing he can thank the super soldier serum for.
            “I need you.” You say softly, looking up at him with desperation and lust painted across your features. Your pleading eyes nearly send him over the edge right then. He has to remind himself that you’re in pain, that he’s doing this to help you get through the night. He’s back on top of you in a second, and your legs spread automatically once again, like you’ve been under him a thousand times before and know just what to do. As soon as his tip brushes against the wet folds between your legs, you’re both losing touch with reality. He closes his eyes, stilling above you, forcing you to grind your hips upward in search his dick. “Are you going to make me beg?” You ask innocently, sliding your hands from his waist up to the sides of his neck, hoping the contact will make him look back at you. He opens his eyes slowly and meets your gaze, licking his lips as his eyes dart down to look at your mouth. Don’t kiss me. Don’t kiss me. Don’t kiss me.
            “No, I don’t think I’d last through a word of that.” Bucky’s admission spurs your hips into action again, but he pulls his away from you. He tsks softly, balancing his weight on his vibranium arm as he uses his flesh hand to pull one of your hands away from his neck, guiding it down to your clit. “You’re going to touch yourself when I tell you to.”
            “Fuck, why won’t you just—” Your impatience gains you exactly what you needed. Bucky doesn’t even have to pay attention, he doesn’t have to line himself up with your entrance, he simply snaps his hips down and forward, his cock instantly finding where it belongs and sliding in. You scream out at the unexpected intrusion, the sting of his cock stretching your walls almost more than you can stand. “Oh my fucking god.” You moan, biting down on his shoulder as he stills once again. He’s nice enough to give you a moment to adjust to the few inches he has inside of you before he so much as takes a breath. For a few seconds, every ounce of pain in your entire body is gone. You feel only bliss with him inside of you like this.
            “Stop fucking rushing me.” Bucky snaps, taking a deep breath as he fights to contain his own release. You’re so fucking tight, so wet for him. He hasn’t felt ecstasy like this since the first time he ever had a sexual experience, and even that was a muted version of this. It’s taking all of his focus to keep from filling you up with everything he has before he’s even started fucking you. You find yourself smiling, a real genuine smile. Not even solely from the bliss that you feel, but from how fucking funny it is that he looks like he’s losing his virginity right now. The man who’s over a hundred years old, fighting to compose himself so he doesn’t cum too soon. “Is something funny?” He asks, and only then do you realize that he’s staring down at you.
            “You’re close, aren’t you?” You tease, letting out a small laugh. The euphoria you’re feeling right now is unmatched. Bucky shakes his head, tsking at you again, before leaning down until his lips are pressed against the shell of your ear, his stubble brushing against your cheek.
            “You know, I said I wasn’t going to make you beg for me to fuck you…” Something in his tone sends a chill through your whole body, and the smile falls from your face in an instant. In one swift movement, he snaps his hips forward and buries his entire cock inside of you, his swollen balls pressing up against your ass as he holds his position. You cry out from the mixture of pain and pleasure, seeing stars as your eyes fly shut. “But I didn’t say I wouldn’t make you beg me to stop.” You’re a moaning mess beneath him as he begins to thrust into you at a medium pace, making sure he pulls out nearly completely before thrusting into you again and again. You’re being as vocal as you’ve ever been, but with one key difference between this moment and every other moment that you’ve ever had sex with someone. You’re not saying his name. You won’t let yourself say his name.
            “Oh my god, oh my god that feels so good.” You gasp the words out as you fight to maintain control of your breathing. It’s obvious that encouragement does something for him when he picks up speed at your words, setting an unrelenting pace that has you sure you won’t be able to walk in the morning. “Just like that. Holy fuck, that’s it.” He groans and dips his head down, kissing your shoulder and sucking a mark on the smooth skin there. The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, heavy breaths and moans filling the room, and the weight of him on top of you has your mind reeling. This has to be enough to abate the chemical compound, it has to be. You haven’t ever felt this kind of pleasure, not a single damn time in your entire life.
            “Shit, you’re so fucking tight. Rub your clit for me, baby. Touch yourself.” His voice is strained and you can tell he’s holding back. Using the hand that he previously led to your clit, you start rubbing fast circles, matching the pace of his deep thrusts. You can feel your climax rushing to the surface faster than it ever has before, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. “You’re close, aren’t you?” Bucky asks in the most teasing, condescending tone, paying you back for asking that exact question earlier. You moan out a needy yes and he smiles down at you, looking so fucking smug and confident. “Yeah, that’s it baby. You’re gonna cum on my cock while you wear my fucking name, aren’t you?”
            “Yes, oh, fuck, yes. I’m so close.” You can’t speak normally anymore, every word that leaves your lips is a sultry moan. Bucky leans back on his knees, his hands gripping your calves and pushing your legs up to rest on his shoulders. “Oh my god.” He thrusts into you hard, the new angle causing you to scream out as his cock brushes against just the right spot. Something about the way you scream for him makes him feral. He reaches a hand toward your neck, and you think he’s going to choke you, but no. He grabs onto the chain that his dog tags hang on and pulls you forward by it, until you’re nearly folded in half. His vibranium hand moves to grip the back of your neck as he fucks his cock into you relentlessly, his head falling back as he edges himself inside you.
            “I’m gonna cum, Y/n, I’m gonna cum inside you.” He groans out, his thrusts growing sloppier as he nears his release.
            “Please, please fucking cum inside me. Don’t pull out.” You beg, hearing how desperate you sound and not giving a single fuck. Bucky practically whines at the sound of you begging. He never knew how badly he wanted to hear that, and now that he’s heard it, he fears he’ll spend every waking second doing everything he can to hear it again.  You can’t help yourself. Tony’s words are still repeating in your head, you know that you need Bucky to cum inside you to have any chance at lasting relief tonight. You need it. “Promise me you won’t pull out.”
            “I won’t pull out, Y/n. Fuck, I’m gonna—FUCK.”
            “That’s it, don’t fucking stop. Just let go, cum inside me.” You encourage him with every ounce of energy that you have left. You’re thankful for the vibranium hand locked behind your neck as your head falls back.
            “Oh, shit baby, I’m cumming. Oh, my fucking…” Bucky cries out, his pace quickening for a few seconds as he pumps his load into you. You feel the hot spurts of cum painting your walls and filling you as full as you’ve ever been. The added pressure inside you mixed with his deep thrusts and your hand working on your clit sends you over the edge right after him, and your pussy clenches on his cock as your orgasm travels through you in waves of pleasure.
            “I’m cumming, holy fuck…” Your voice trails off as you temporarily lose touch with reality, your legs shaking and back arching as much as it can in your current position. Bucky holds you on his cock, thrusting into you at the perfect pace to prolong your orgasm. When you open your eyes again, his thrusts are slowing to a stop, and he’s staring down at you, his chest heaving with exertion and his cheeks glowing pink. Neither of you say a word as he lays you back on the bed, slowly pulling his cock out and helping you straighten your legs on the bed. You find yourself playing with his dog tags that are still around your neck, as he collapses on the bed next to you.
            “I feel…better.” You admit quietly, noting the distinct lack of pain in your body and the heightened sense of euphoria and fatigue you feel. You see Bucky nodding out of the corner of your eye, but he remains quiet, staring up at the ceiling. “You should sleep here.” You turn on your side to face him, fighting to keep your eyes open after such a powerful orgasm. You can’t even keep yourself awake long enough to find out if he has a response or not. You fall asleep right there next to him, still naked, totally blissful in your fucked out state.
            Bucky lies awake for a few more minutes after you’ve crashed. He also feels much better, but conflicted at the same time. You didn’t say his name once. Not one damn time. He was fucking you like your lives depended on it and his name never once left your lips. It shouldn’t matter that much, it’s not like you were making love or something. You were fucking to survive the night. He can’t blame you for maintaining some boundaries, but still. With how fucking perfect you sounded moaning everything else, he would’ve given anything to hear you say his name. Just once. As he drifts off into sleep next to you, he decides that the next time you fuck, he's not letting you cum until you say his name.
Next Part
TAG LIST (I suck at this, some of these tags definitely are not working so I apologize)
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yourmidnightlover · 3 months
Text
the sun
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?
warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!
wc: 2.6k
a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!
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you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.
tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.
6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.
half of the world, gone in a moment.
in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...
sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.
this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.
"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.
"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.
she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.
a positive pregnancy test.
you were having bucky's baby.
without bucky.
you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.
they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.
god, it hadn't even been two months.
how were you supposed to do this alone?
"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.
eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.
"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."
you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.
"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.
"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."
"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"
"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"
-
you knew you were around eight weeks along.
according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.
bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.
banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).
you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.
within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.
in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.
you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.
as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.
he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.
"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."
steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.
you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.
she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.
just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.
you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.
he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.
he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.
he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.
truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.
in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.
oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.
and within the week, you were having your baby.
steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.
"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"
"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.
"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...
"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."
-
the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.
crawling, first words, first steps...
you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.
but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.
you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.
how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.
not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.
you never took off his dog tags, either.
steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!
you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.
banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.
then, you got a call from tony and banner.
it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.
of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.
the only thing is that nat never came back...
next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.
is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?
then, you felt a buzz in your hand.
although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.
shocker.
after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...
but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.
he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.
when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.
"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."
"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."
you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."
his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.
within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.
"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.
you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.
upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.
"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.
his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.
meeting you. falling in love. dying?
his son.
he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.
"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.
"i love you so much, both of you."
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johnslittlespoon · 2 months
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seven sentence sunday!!
thank you for the tag @nicijones :^)
rule: post seven sentences of your current wip
John is among them, ever competitive and deadly serious about their makeshift baseball games, bruises and road rash a small price to pay for the adrenaline rush of winning. But that doesn’t mean he’s quiet about it as he and Gale walk back to their shared barracks. “That’s gonna hurt like a bitch tomorrow,” John grumbles. Cloth drags over the scratched up skin below his elbow when he pulls his shirt back on, the chill of the night making itself known as sweat dries on his skin. Gale holds back a wince as faint streaks of red graze the side of his shirt, too late to warn him off before he could stain it, but he’s sure John wouldn’t care anyway. “It’d heal quicker if you cleaned it properly,” he says instead, stopping in front of their door, pulling it open and stepping aside to let John walk past. “You gonna patch it up for me, doc?”
tagging @bcolfanfic, @coldblooded-angel, @avonne-writes, @curtsbigspoon and anyone else who wants to but no pressure! <3
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t-lostinworlds · 2 months
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Big, Hormonal Heart | Bucky Barnes
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》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader
》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), fluff fluff fluff
》 SUMMARY: It'd probably take more than one lifetime for Bucky to list reasons why he was so lucky to call you his wife. He was certain your big heart was one of them. One that grew even more with pregnancy hormones. It was sweet, how you to got so upset when they got his order wrong. Your meal was perfectly fine. But when his wasn't? Oh it was a crime.
》 WARNINGS: pregnancy, a dog named Snow and Alpine the cat, pet names (doll, baby, my love, sweetheart), emotional!r (she cries. like, most of the fic), husband!bucky being the sweetest, domesticity and just overall fluff (pretty tame fic ngl)
》 WORD COUNT: 2.5k+
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A/N: this idea was super random. i saw an insta reel of a pregnant woman having mood swings over some food and then everyone was sharing their experiences in the comments and i got inspired so here ya go alksalkss. DISCLAIMER! I'm not pregnant nor have i ever been lol. I did as much research as i could but still, don't count on me to be 100% accurate.
++ ALSO this was written in just a few hours. this isn't my best work. just something i wanted to write as an exercise since i haven't written anything in months. anyways, i hope you enjoy!
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📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩
⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *。・゚.★. *。・゚✫*.
Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.
If someone had told him years ago that he was going to live in a quaint home in the suburbs, a lovely backyard space for a dog and a cat to enjoy, and that he'd be married to the absolute love of life, an angel on earth who was now carrying his first child—
He honestly would've stared at them dead in the eye, wondering how someone could make such a cruel joke.
Yet here he was, actually living it, a life that seemed so much like a dream.
Though he was quickly reminded of how real this was as he stood in the nursery, glaring at the manual that came with the crib you two had bought from the furniture store.
It looked simple enough at first—putting together ready-made pieces should be easy, right?
Wrong.
Not when you have countless amounts of screws that more or less looked the same but were actually not because each served a different purpose. 
He was in the middle of figuring out how to install the legs to the main base when you walked into the room with your two bodyguards—Alpine the Cat and Snow the five-year-old Samoyed—in tow.
"How's it going, handsome?" you hummed as you reached his side, arms wrapping around his waist, your warmth immediately easing the frustration he had about this goddamn crib.
"It's…" he sighed, gesturing at the wooden pieces scattered around the floor. "Going."
You laughed at that, kissing his clothed shoulder before standing in front of him.
Bucky held your waist then, pulling you as close as he could given that your baby bump was in the middle of you both.
He honestly couldn't begin to express how much comfort and warmth covered his whole being every time he was met with the absolute love in your eyes.
And Bucky was sure his gaze shined the same.
So many people have pointed it out on numerous occasions, the twinkle in his eyes every time they land on you—his beautiful wife.
"I was thinking," you murmured, resting your hands on his chest, moving up his shoulder and down again in a sweet caress. "How about a quick break while we order some food?"
It was only about an hour after lunch, so Bucky wasn't particularly keen on filling his stomach some more.
But you, on the other hand, were nearing the end of your second trimester. It wasn't out of the norm for you to be hungry at this time, given you were eating for two. Plus, there was an added layer that your little peanut probably had some super soldier serum in their DNA—the baby's appetite could be enhanced for all he knew.
Other than that, the last thing Bucky wanted was an angry and hungry pregnant wife. So it wasn't really a hard decision to make.
"Okay, let's get you something to eat," he said.
Ever the observant person that you were, you quickly noticed his choice of words.
"For me?" you asked, brows furrowed. "You're not hungry?"
Bucky shook his head. "Not really."
Your bottom lip went.
He instantly knew he said the wrong thing.
"But I'm hungry," you murmured, eyes starting to glisten.
He could never explain it even if he tried, but whenever you got upset, your bodyguards always seemed to notice it. The two have always been protective of you and that only grew tenfold when you got pregnant.
Today wasn't an exception.
Snow barked at him, whining his complaints as he put his fifty-pound body between your legs, slightly pushing Bucky back. The furball was well trained though, so his protectiveness never went too far beyond being vocal about it. Alpine, on the other hand, was sitting a foot away, glaring at Bucky—quite the traitor given that she was supposed to be his cat, but he couldn't blame her for loving you, either—as if she knew it was his fault you were upset.
But still, Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong.
"I know, sweetheart," he said slowly, a little confused, trying to navigate around Snow who was pawing at his leg as if trying to push him further away. "I'll order some food for you."
"But you're not hungry," you repeated, body slumping with sadness.
"I'm not," he agreed, quickly cupping your face when a tear slipped from your eyes. "But hey, hey, that doesn't mean we can't still order food for you, doll."
"No, I know," you sniffled.
"So, what's making you upset, hmm?"
You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath as you said,
"I don't want to eat alone."
Bucky paused, pressing his lips and swallowing down a laugh because he couldn't have you thinking he was making fun of you. He wasn't. But you were so adorable it made his chest ache.
"Okay, okay," he hummed, kissing the side of your head as he rubbed your back in comfort. "I'll order something for me, too."
•••
A few minutes later, your little family migrated to the living room. You both were sitting on the couch together, the two furballs sprawled at your feet as a random show played on TV. Various take-out bags covered the coffee table, way too many for two people but hey, that's what fridges and microwaves are for.
Fondness filled Bucky's bones as he watched you settle your food on your lap, doing what he called your Cravings Satisfied Wiggle.
He couldn't contain his chuckle.
You looked at him with furrowed brows, words a little muffled with your mouth full. "What?"
"Happy?" he asked, reaching over to wipe the sauce on the corner of your mouth.
"Very much," you giggled, eyes wrinkling at the corners.
Even after all these years, the sight of your pure joy still made his heart stutter, chest growing warmer when you leaned closer with a pout.
Bucky met you halfway for a short yet sweet kiss.
"Thank you," you hummed, even though there was no need for you to thank him for ordering you food.
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
Reaching over the table, he took the one and only paper bag that was for him, because again, he wasn't that hungry.
"Oh."
"What's wrong?" You turned to him in concern.
"It's not a big deal," he reassured with a smile, shrugging because it really wasn't. "They got mine wrong."
You frowned. "You didn't get the nuggets?"
"No, they give me the burger meal," he said. "They must've misheard me.
Bucky immediately perked up when your lips started to tremble.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, cupping your face to wipe away your tears.
"You—" you sniffled. "You didn't get your nuggets."
Bucky pressed his lips to stop a smile.
God you were so fucking cute.
"It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I'm fine with a burger, too."
You cried even harder.
Snow and Alpine quickly stood, all alert and concerned as they nudged your leg.
"You wanted the nuggets, Bucky," you insisted, choking back a sob. "But you didn't get it."
He carefully pulled you closer, rubbing your back in comfort as you laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, but it's okay—"
"No, it's not!" you protested, all teary and frustrated, pulling away to glare at him. "You deserve to get what you want. Y-You deserve all the good things after e-everything."
Bucky might honestly start crying too with how sweet you were being.
"Oh doll, come here," he placated, pulling you in for a hug while trying to navigate the food on your lap.
He could take it away for safety, but he'd already learned his lesson the hard way. Taking food away from a pregnant woman was a death sentence.
"I want you to be happy," you sniffled, burying your face against his neck. "You wanted the nuggets and they disrespected that."
It took so much for him not to let out a chuckle. Because as much as Bucky hated to see you crying and upset, he couldn't deny how adorably funny this whole conversation was.
But you'd always had the biggest heart. Whether that was crying over those rescue animal videos, emotional scenes in movies, to feeling upset over something he was experiencing—your empathy was always high.
What more with the pregnancy hormones in the mix?
"How about I ask them to change it?"
Again, wrong thing to say.
He needed to get better at this.
"But they're probably so stressed and overworked already," you sobbed. "A-And it's about to rain. I don't want the delivery guy to get wet in the rain. T-They already don't get paid enough."
"Hey, hey, it's okay," he hummed, rubbing your back. "Will you look at me, my love?"
You lifted your head then, Bucky's heart aching at the absolute distress on your features—pout in full play, eyes a little bloodshot with tear stains on your skin.
He cupped your cheeks with a soft smile, placing gentle kisses all over your face, unrelenting until you let out a whine of protest. He stopped then, thankful to see that you'd calmed down now.
"I promise you, the burger meal is perfectly fine with me. I'm not mad or upset about it. I don't mind it at all," he said.
You took a calming deep breath and nodded. It only took a second for you to look at him sheepishly.
"Sorry I overreacted," you whispered, embarrassed.
"Hey, none of that," he lightly scolded. "All the emotions you're feeling will always be valid."
You smiled, small yet sweet, leaning in and kissing him with as much gratitude as you could muster.
"Besides, it makes me feel so honored to know that you're willing to fight for my chicken nugget rights."
"Shut up, Barnes."
•••
You and Bucky always had a nightly routine and it usually consisted of the two of you getting ready for bed in your own different ways. They were intertwined, but not exactly the same. Like you'd be doing some skin care in the bathroom while he would be brushing his teeth.
But ever since you got pregnant, your routine became more in sync.
It usually started with a bath that he'd run for you. Most of the time he'd end up joining you, the length of said bath varying since that usually depended on what mood you were in. Bucky was always at the service of meeting his wife's needs, after all.
Recently, now that your bump wasn't particularly easy to navigate, he'd helped you get ready for bed. From getting dressed to your skin care, including rubbing some moisturizer on your stomach. That part was one of his favorite things to do.
Then it was the typical things, getting dressed, brushing your teeth—this one you stopped him from doing it for you even though he was more than willing—and overall just getting ready for bed.
Once you’d settled on the pregnancy pillow that Bucky fluffed up for you, he'd sit near the foot of the bed to give your sore feet a massage while you read a book.
Tonight, right when he was in the middle of doing that, he heard you sniffle.
Bucky looked up in concern, catching you already staring at him with tears already in your eyes.
"What's wrong?" he asked, looking you over. "Does something hurt?"
"No, I-I'm okay. I just—" You cut yourself off with a sob.
Bucky quickly moved beside you, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your form. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, body shaking as you cried.
"Hey, hey, talk to me," he murmured against your hair. "Tell me what's wrong."
"It's just—" You let out a shaky breath. "You're always taking care of me."
"Of course, sweetheart, you're my wife," he said. "And not only because it's my duty as your husband, but because I love you so much."
That made you cry even harder.
"I l-love you too, so much," you sobbed. "But I haven't been able to take care of you lately and that's not f-fair."
Bucky felt his heart grow as if it wasn't already bursting at the seams.
How could someone be so selfless and sweet?
"You're pregnant, my love," he stated the obvious reason as to why. "Besides, I'm capable of taking care of myself. It's alright."
"No, it's not," you argued, pulling away slightly to face him. "You deserve to be taken care of, too! You deserve to get pampered a-and a break but you're always fussing over me and taking care of me instead. I'm not helping with any of it. I'm just making it harder for you."
"No, absolutely not," he stated firmly, holding your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love taking care of you. It honestly makes me feel so fulfilled and happy when I do."
"Really?" you sniffled.
"Yes. It's the least I could do with everything that you've been going through right now," he said truthfully, adding with a chuckle, "Hell, if I could carry our baby so you wouldn't have to go through all the pain I would."
That earned him a small laugh.
"But I want to take care of you, too," you admitted after a deep breath.
"You already are," he hummed, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. "You're taking care of our baby and my heart, and those are very important to me."
You scrunched up your nose adorably.
"That was so cheesy."
"But it's true, though."
You smiled, cupping his face. Bucky turned his head to kiss your palm.
"Thank you," you sighed fondly. "For putting up with me and for everything."
"First off, I'm not putting up with anything," he reassured, kissing your other palm before adding, "Second, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. Never."
You nodded, leaning closer to press your lips against his, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. Bucky kissed you back with the same fervor, never needing words to express what you truly feel for each other.
He felt so content—feeling your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, and your little peanut asking for attention too, kicking the second Bucky rested hand on your bump.
When you let out a soft, needy whine, he was ready to take the kiss even further.
That was until a wet tongue met his cheek.
Bucky groaned in annoyance, pulling away to see Snow giving you a kiss, too. He couldn't be angry at the dog for ruining the moment when your lovely laugh echoed in the air. Alpine jumped on the bed a second later, nudging her head against Bucky's chin before walking over to place a loving paw on your bump.
His smile was as bright as it could be as he watched the scene before him.
A wonderful home, a wholesome family that involved his beautiful, loving wife and two furballs, his family that was only getting bigger in a few months—
Yeah.
Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.
✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚♛ *.
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lilozzzyo3569 · 27 days
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Stay Still
Summary: Bucky Barnes comes back from a mission, and instead of going straight to the shower decides to come see you first Warnings: MDNI, female reader is smaller then Bucky, I don't own this man (but I guess I wasn't meant to be happy), General fluff, Bucky is touch starved, you got this man in the palm of your hands *wink*
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Bucky had just made it back to tower and was just happy the "mission that wouldn't end" was finally over. The mission ended up being successful but not before he damaged his arm. He was covered in god-knows-what and all he wanted to do was see your face.
You and Bucky have only been together for a short while but originally became close in Wakanda. You are friends with Shuri and helped her with her manipulations of Vibranium. She was actually the one that asked you to help her work on Bucky's arm as well as to reprogram him. That was how the two of you met and after spending so much time together decided to date.
When he decided to move back to the tower he begged you to come with him and how could anyone say no to those eyes. So fast forward to now you are in your shared king bed trying stay awake wearing his dog tags and one of his shirts and a tiny pair of shorts waiting for Bucky to come back to you when you hear your door open. Bucky calls out "Doll? Are you awake?" You smile and jump up out of the bed to go hug him, when you stop dead in your tracks after seeing him. "What the fuck happened to you?" He sighs deep and says "what didn't happen, I messed up my arm and I just Ugh-" you interrupt him saying "hey it'll be okay, we can fix your arm but first lets get you into a hot shower, while I fix your arm"
Bucky is in the shower when you finish fixing his cleaning his arm before you start to fix it when you hear him grunt in frustration. You put his now clean arm down and run into the bathroom. "Baby what's wrong?" you stand on the outside of the shower curtain when he responds with irritation "I can't wash my hair with one arm UGH!" he sounds angry so you gently tell him "well how about you just finish showering and then I can wash your hair?" He is quiet and happy that you can't see him start to blush when he says "Are you sure?" making you giggle "Of course plus it's going to take me a minute to fix your arm, so this way you won't have to wait."
Bucky finishes his shower and puts on a pair of soft low hanging grey sweats. Now you're the one blushing, you and Bucky had only gone as far as cuddling, holding hands and a forehead kiss now and then. With his past trauma you didn't want to ever make him feel pressured to do anything physical. Upon seeing him you smile as he still looks a bit frustrated as he comes back into the bathroom. "So how do we do this?" You smile as you sit on the edge of the bathtub advising him to sit in the bathtub and rest his head in your lap as you start to detangle his hair with a comb. You take the shower head down and rinse his hair before gently massaging his scalp and shampooing his hair. You spend maybe a bit longer than necessary doing this because this is the most physical contact you two have ever had and it is clearly affecting you both.
Bucky does his best not to moan at the feeling of your nimble fingers massing his scalp and washing his hair. Due to all of his time at Hydra Bucky had issues interacting with the world around him physically which was not a problem until he met you. You were so kind and understanding of him and were always so patient, he doesn't know how he got to so lucky to have you. He does feel a bit self conscious when it comes to anything physical with you. He doesn't want to scare you away, but he wants to be closer to you but has trouble telling you what he wants. But now here he is with his head between your soft bare thighs as you massage his scalp. He worries you will notice his sweatpants getting tighter, but you seem too focused on his hair.
Bucky can barely hold you at night without feeling overwhelmed by your soft skin, your delicious scent, your little hums in your sleep. Bucky always feels so conflicted, he wants to touch you, to feel you, but it has been so long since he has felt this feeling that he doesn't know how to handle it. You gently move his head from side to side to effectively clean his hair, but by doing this it forces his head deeper in between your thighs. You feels him wrap his arm around your thigh making you gasp as he nuzzles into your skin to deeply inhale your scent. You feel his lips press against your inner thigh as you blush and continue to massage his scalp. "Bu-uughh-Bucky are you alright?" He finally lets out the moan he was holding in due to hearing your sweet voice, "I'm sorry doll, you just smell so delicious, especially from down here" Bucky's arm moves up and down you leg as you notice the a very large tent in his sweats. You bite your lip, "Well if I had known that all I had to do was wash your hair to get you nice and relaxed I would've done this months ago. How about we finish washing your hair and then we can go to bed? How does that sound baby?" Bucky nods against your thigh feeling drunk off your scent, as you work to finish his hair.
I have had this stuck in my head since I saw this man long hair! Just had to get this idea out of my head, hope you all enjoy :D
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dungeonpuppykai · 5 months
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Hey lovely, I just want to say I love your bucky fics and especially dark bucky fics, it just hits the spot and it's so good so keep up the great work love. Now i'm not sure if you're still taking requests if so could you please do one of reader wearing absolutely nothing but bucky's army dog tag and him seeing reader like this makes him go feral.
And if you don't want to that's perfectly fine and i hope you have a great day/night and keep up the great work love 💕
Thank you so much! I am so happy that you like them and I know it's been a hot minute but the way this ask short circuited my brain omg!!!
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Warning(s): Dark!Bucky, stockholm syndrome, sir kink, use of makeshift leash, choking, rough p-in-v, power imbalance, m!dom, f!sub, puppy kink, humping, dumbification, cock riding, mention of somnophilia. Browse at your own discretion. Contains dark and mature 18+ content. Minors do not interact. 
Bucky was honestly skeptical at first. 
As you were still getting used to your new home he knew better than to fully trust you. 
But you were just so fucking irresistible and adorable. 
Sometimes he didn't know just what to do with you.
"Just trust me, sir!" Your tone was determined but demeanor shy when you had hurriedly pecked his lips and scurried off into the walk-in wardrobe after prying his hands off you. 
The night was quite silver with the moon on full display, the inside of your room dimly lit as Bucky took a swig of his chilled after dinner beer. 
When you took longer than was comfortable for him doing whatever it was that you were doing, he called out to you. 
"Puppy? What's taking so–"
The older man's voice locked in his throat and he had to do a double take when you did appear. 
Your cheeks were a bright red as you nibbled on your bottom lip, hips swaying but posture stiff as you came into his view. 
Bucky's hand reached for his neck in realization when he noticed the article– the only article on your otherwise nude body.
You sneaky little thing. 
He had been so busy and stressed because of his recent mission that he hadn't noticed when you had slipped his dog tags off him. 
A small smirk made its way on his face as he felt his cock harden instantly, feeling his head spin a little at the seductive way you leaned against the doorframe of the wardrobe, toying with the chain in as much a sexy manner as you could muster.
Just like that, Bucky made his resolve. 
Even if you had been sneaky (and he would definitely have to do something about it to nip it in the bud), it had been to give him a show. 
And who was Bucky to refuse you finally coming around and doing something out of your own free will. 
Or, at least, as free as it could get given your rather coercive circumstances. 
"Come here, puppy" his voice was dark and strained as he held back pouncing on you with all the force in his body and crushing you with the violent passion that was surging like electric currents within his being right now. 
He always held back on you for he knew you were far too fragile to take his raw might. 
"Y- Yes sir…" You obediently answered like you had been trained to do so as you made your way to your captor and owner. 
Bucky bit his lip as he sipped on his drink again, reaching out towards you before he twirled the dog tags around the index finger of his metal arm and gently pulled you in, resuming his earlier position on the bed. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as your lips brushed against his. He had brought you in until you were bending over his form. Your heart was starting to thrum.
Excitement. Anxiety. Need.
"Puppy, you naughty, naughty fucking thing" Bucky rasped after making out with you a little. 
The older man didn't speak before he pressed his lips onto yours and when he transferred the beer in his mouth to yours, you knew why he hadn't praised you yet. 
The drink burnt its way down your throat.
Your nose scrunched a bit at the strong taste of his beer.
You weren't really allowed any adult beverages so they were almost foreign to your taste buds at this point. 
"N- Need you, sir~" you were becoming more and more hormonal by the day and the man wasn't complaining. 
"Is that why you put up this cute little show, huh? To seduce sir into playing with that sweet little pussy that's always so needy for him?" You couldn't help but lower your head and nod sheepishly, blushing under his dark and hungry gaze. "Aren't you becoming a cute little horndog?" 
He couldn't help but smirk at the way you whined under your breath, both aroused and embarrassed.
"Aw, you don't like that, puppy?" He gently tugged at the makeshift leash. "Don't want sir to tease you?" You softly pouted as you shook your head and avoided his gaze. "Awww…" Now his hand wrapped around the rest of the chain and he jerked your head closer. "Then what do you want, puppy?" 
"Y- You, sir…" You shyly looked up at him through your lashes although just for a second. "Want– need you… so, so bad."
"How bad, puppy?"
"Very bad, sir…"
He loosened up his grip but didn't let go of the silver chain. 
"Get on up here and show me." You didn't need to be told twice. 
"Yes sir!" You were eager as you scrambled onto his built thighs, whimpering out a shaky moan when your wet sex exposed itself due to your position and grazed against the material of his pants. "Oh…" A sound too vile for your personal comfort escaped you as you settled yourself on his lap, the upper half of your body being forced to bend towards him due to his hold on the chain. 
"You like that, my little baby puppy?" Your mouth was agape as you could only nod, your own thighs trembling as you begin to slowly rub yourself against the grainy fabric of Bucky's pants. 
"Love that, sir. Love it so much…" Your hand shakily grasped his metal one that was holding the chain for support, hips increasing their speed with this newfound stability and balance.
"Good puppy… good girl… good fucking girl" Bucky praised as he wrapped his hand around the chain once more, toying with one of your boobs with his other hand. "That's it, babygirl. Just like that… rub that slutty pussy all over my jeans like the desperate little toy that you are."
Fuck, he was too good with his soft, breathy praises as he stared up at you, mouth agape.
Your heavy breaths were restricted next and you could cum right there and then. As the oxygen slowly dissipated from your lungs, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and back arched when he suddenly twisted one of your nipples, eliciting a loud squeak from you. 
When he finally let go of your windpipe and eased his hold on the chain, you whined upon coming to your senses when you realized that he'd lifted you off his lap. 
You needed him so bad. 
He was way too good at fucking you.
Though Bucky quickly shut you up with a wet kiss as he lowered you onto his cock next, remaining his hold on the dog tags all the while. 
Your hands were removed from his bicep and metal arm and bound behind your back with his free hand that wasn't guiding you with your makeshift leash. 
Bucky loved to restrain you; there was just something so hot seeing you tied up completely helpless at his mercy. 
"That's right, fuck yourself on my cock. You look so fucking pretty when you're all dumbed out like a silly little puppy slut up on my cock…" His words had you clenching as you rocked your hips, moaning as loud as you could, shame forgotten and disposed of. 
"P- Please…" You begged, too weak and sensitive to increase your pace but in desperate need to do so. "Please, sir… please… Need you… so bad… please…" Bucky tightened the chain one more time, this time not letting go until your flushed face had turned red, veins bulging out against the skin of your temples. "Th- Thank you, sir…" You whispered out like you'd been taught to do so. You were so close. Your head was about to split with emotion and anticipation of what was coming. "... L- Love you so much…" The man froze for a few moments. 
He had not taught you that yet.
As oxygen was allowed back in to your brain, you almost halted when you realized that Bucky was quietly staring up at you now and had let go of both the chain as well as your hands. 
Your brows furrowed, since you hadn't even realized what you had just confessed. "W- What's–" 
But the man beat you to it. 
Before you could ponder over it and possibly change your mind.
Bucky had tackled you onto your back.
The movement caused his thick cock to bang all the way inside your cavern, causing stars to appear in your vision. 
"I love you more, puppy." Trapping both your hands above your head like he had done you -mind and body-, he resumed his hold on the dog tags and began pounding into you like an actual animal. 
You best believe he did not stop for the rest of the night. 
So what if you passed out a couple times?
You loved him, so he was sure you didn't mind. 
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