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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

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save me darling, for you are my salvation

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings : 18+/smut/creeps/ no minors!

Summary : you own a cafe. Bucky’s trying to work through his shit.

A/N : two in one day? Aren’t you lucky.

When Bucky met you he was a changed a man.

As changed as an ex assassin with a metal arm and superhuman strength could be.

Gone were the days of mission reports and masked, grime slicked faces. No more soviet slugs, no more murdering innocents. I’m James Buchanan Barnes, I’m no longer the Winter Soldier and you are part of my efforts to get my life back together.

Or something like that.

He’d taken up therapy. Once a week for one hour, unpacking decades worth of baggage he kept locked away in the folds of his mind. He’d come to your cafe after every session - 2pm on the dot - and not because the coffee was good.

Nah, he came because of you.

The bright eyed girl. Bouncing hair and gleaming smile. In another life he would have had no issue asking you out, but a hundred years of trauma has an affect on his confidence. You were like a soothing balm over his mind. After an hour of facing demons with gaping mouths, drooling nothing but trauma over his shoulder - seeing your smile made them shrivel into the darkness once more.

“Hey Bucky,” you beam, joyful, full of light and he wonders how you do it. “The usual?”

“Hey,” he sits at the counter. “Please doll.”

You sit your book down, get to work on making him a black coffee - one sugar because he needed the lift up.

You place it in front of him with a grin, “one black with sugar.”

He thanks you, “what you reading today?”

You push your book across the counter, bent corners, pages dog eared and he could tell it was well loved. A Time to Kill.

“You seen the movie?” You ask him, leaning your head in your hands and looking up at him through your lashes and fuck - if he hadn’t dreamed of that in another context.

Bucky shakes his head, takes a sip and watches as you think through what you say next.

“I’ve got it on DVD, you could borrow it or…” you trail off for a moment, before - fuck it. “You could come round? Only if you want.”

Your cute. Cheeks blushed pink, big eyes sparkling and how could he ever say no to you? His candle in the dark, warped reality of his life.

“Tonight?” He finds himself asking.

—

Your apartment is what he expects it to be - immaculate.

A humble one bedroom with eggshell painted walls and dark oak furniture. You open the door to him with a smile, ushering him inside. You’ve laid out snacks - popcorn, chips and these little jelly sweets in colour coordinated bowls.

He watches you as you load up the DVD player. It’s the first time he’s seen you out of uniform, short shorts and oversized graphic tee with these big fluffy slippers that look too big compared to your slender legs.

You have great legs.

“Never expected this to be your kinda film,” Bucky comments as you sit beside him, throwing him a blanket as you wrap yourself in your own.

“I find it best not to judge a book by its cover,” you reply with a smirk. “Who doesn’t love a good crime movie?”

You had a point.

As the movie played on you got closer, until his arm was resting on the sofa above you, two blankets down to one, your back pressed to his side and he was sure it was a good film - but he couldn’t concentrate. He just hoped you didn’t ask any questions about it.

He’d never been this close. To study the curl of your lashes as they kissed the tips of high cheekbones and the soft slope of your nose and the freckle you had just below your ear. You were the prettiest thing he’d ever fucking seen.

You yawn softly as the credits roll. Bucky moves to stand up but you call his name.

“You can take the sofa,” you rub your hands together. “It’s late.”

He nods, feels his heart jump and he doesn’t miss the breath of relief you let out at his acceptance. Maybe you thought he didn’t want you - the furthest thing from the truth - but he knew his exterior was steely - maybe he could let you in.

You bring him pillows, make the sofa look like the comfiest bed in the world and before you retire to your room you kiss his cheek.

“G’night Bucky.”

He leaves before you wake up.

—

Bucky found out he was jealous on a Tuesday afternoon.

He never remembers feeling like this in the 40’s - that green brush of envy as a jock leaned across the counter waffling words he couldn’t hear. You carried on working, humming occasionally but never really listening.

Bucky gets closer and your eyes shift to him, face lighting and you greeted him with that smile that melted his vital organs.

“Hey doll, just the usual please.”

You nod, refusing his money as you get to work on his coffee, and he wonders if the fact you’d never taken a dime from him was a sign you liked him. He hoped it was.

You’re turned away when Bucky catches shit-house in the corner staring openly at your ass - no shame, licking his lips with a smile and Bucky felt the involuntary shift of his metal arm beneath his clothes.

Punk.

“What’s it gonna take babe?” The jock says to you as you turn to clean the counter. You cut a glance in his direction, scowl on your face that Bucky had never seen before because it was so unlike you - his girl with the blazing smile.

“I’m here everyday, won’t you let me take that pretty ass out on a date?” What a gentleman.

You openly bristle, place a bill in front of him with a scowl.

“And I tell you everyday Nathan, I’m not interested in dating,” you respond. “Cash or card?”

Bucky chuckles. He’d never seen that side to you. Fire burning your fingertips, tongue like a whip as you shot his advancements out of the air - bang, bang, bang.

Bullseye.

Nathan finally looks at Bucky then, an icy gaze with stormy blue eyes - enough to scare a cat - not a super soldier.

“You find that funny?” He barks.

Bucky takes a sip of his coffee, grins as he says, “yeah actually, I did.”

As expected, Nathan storms out after paying - men like him have worse bark than bite - and Bucky was well equipped to deal with both. Especially when it came to you.

You sigh, shoulders slumped and you continue to clean. Bucky wonders how often you deal with assholes like that - everyday by the sounds of things. He couldn’t blame a man for trying, you were the most beautiful girl Bucky had ever seen, and he’d been alive for over a century.

“So you’re not interested in dating?” Bucky earns a smile from you, a small chuckle in your throat that still sounds defeated.

You work your arm in circles, counter spotless as you say, “I’m holding out for someone special.”

“Do I know him?” Bucky asks.

“You know him pretty well,” you blush.

—

When he finds out John Walker is Captain America - he goes to you.

He shouldn’t. It’s 3am but he doesn’t know where else to go, saunters the streets and he lands at your door; rapping his knuckles on the wood. Heart on his sleeve, tears brushing his eyes because how could they replace him?

How could they ever replace Steve?

His best friend. His one tie to another life. The only man that deserved the title of Captain America - not some jumped up military man, brainwashed by governments who tell him he’s doing the ‘right thing.’ To see that shield on another man’s arm?

That fucking hurt.

You’re confused when you open the door, groomed by sleep and you’re even prettier when you’re not done up - messy hair, sleep hazed eyes.

“Your neighbour let me in I-“

You move to let him inside, not needing the explanation and Bucky knew he came to the right place. His one solace, his salvation - you.

“Are you okay Bucky?” You ask him and he breaks down.

You hold him as he cries, rub his back with tender hands; his rock against a moving tide. The ocean tried to wash him away but he clung onto you, and his head stayed above water.

He fills in the spots you’ve missed. The parts of his life he wanted to share but was worried they would scare you off. Holy fuck - he wasn’t joking when he said he was 106.

The metal arm mesmerises you. You turn his palm in your hand with a - “I thought you said you had poor circulation?”

You make him laugh. Brew him tea and listen to his queries and you do a better job than Raynor ever could because he just needed someone to hear him, to understand him.

The dark fog lifts with your head on his shoulder, his hand combing through your hair and he apologises for getting you out of your bed. You tell him to shut up.

Nothing else matters when he’s here with you. These fleeting moments where he thinks he could do life like this, a normal life, with you - the girl from the cafe that stopped his heart when he first saw you. You chase away the dark, cocoon him in this blissful period of you and him - that’s all that mattered.

“I’m off tomorrow,” you announce. “You’re welcome to stay.”

“Thank you doll,” he replies.

You take his hand, lead him to your room and it takes him by surprise because it’s a fucking mess and that’s unlike you. You scratch the nape of your neck with a giggle, apologising but he doesn’t know what for.

He sleeps with you tangled around him, the warmth of your body rocking him to a deep slumber; the smell of your hair like a wet finger to a match on his nerves.

Yeah - he could do life like this.

—

You’re the one who kisses him for the first time.

There’s a picnic basket - homemade sandwiches and fresh cream buns on a soft patchwork blanket. The sun pounds on your skin, spot of butter on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb. You giggle and it lights a fire in his stomach that licks its way through his insides.

You’re so close.

Your lips are soft, your smell intoxicating and he needs to remind himself he’s in a fucking park, but it’s hard not to let himself be completely consumed by you.

Bit late for that pal.

There’s a soft hum in your chest that sends signals straight to his mind, makes him light headed and hazy as he strokes a hand across your cheek.

For the first time he feels like a boy. He’s back in Brooklyn and if you’d been alive a hundred years ago he would’ve asked you to marry him because that’s how deep he’d drowned in you. Like a body of water, you flowed in waves. You pulled him into your current until all he could think of was you.

You giggle because he must look starstruck - blushed cheeks and blown out eyes, lips slightly parted because wow - you amazed him.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Bucky says.

“Why didn’t you?” You quirk your head.

“Been out of the game doll,” he chuckles. “Not good with hints.”

“If I said I liked you would that make it easier?” Your eyes sparkle.

“Let’s go back to your apartment.”

You laugh.

—

You’re in his lap, legs spilling across his thighs as you straddle him and Bucky forgets how to breathe.

His hands are everywhere - your hair, your face, up your shirt. Your tits fit perfectly in his hands, but they sit even better on your chest - perked to attention and fuck - they didn’t make them like you in the 40’s.

Maybe you were the reason he survived. All the pain and torture to reach this moment with you. His girl.

You make work of his belt, slip out his cock into your hand before spitting on it. Bucky groans, lets his fingers mess the wetness beneath your panties before you slide onto him with a whine. You move with ease, up and down - Bucky feels like he’s dreaming; mind clouded with lust and all he could feel was you.

“Fuck,” you say when he hits a particularly nice spot deep inside you and he makes a point of rutting up into you to reach it over and over again because he won’t last long. Not with you.

He throws his head back, blows out a breath as he feels the heat starting in his toes. He holds you hip with his metal arm, pounding into you relentless when he feels your legs grow weak and you did so well for him.

You were so good for him.

You fall forward as your pussy squeezes his girth, head on his shoulder and he’s chasing his high before yours is even finished.

You kiss him lovingly, dropping beside him and he pulls a blanket over you. Bucky kisses the top of your head, the sounds of heavy breathing and rapid heart rate battering against his eardrums.

His mind is blank.

“That was…” you drift off.

“Fucking incredible,” he finishes.

—

He brings you roses on your birthday.

Walked miles around town to find the best of the best because you deserve nothing less and he knows that.

He spots you through the window, cleaning a table in the back corner and he has to stop to watch you in this candid moment. He couldn’t believe you would pick him. The fucked up soldier with the fucked up past.

I’m James Buchanan Barnes and I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.

You look up when he walks into the cafe, not shy as you walk towards him, kissing him softly.

“Happy birthday doll.”

You thank him, holding the roses like a new born child and he notices Nathan scowling in the corner as you prepare them in a vase.

“Thought you weren’t into dating?” Nathan spits at you.

You smile at him, before glancing at Bucky with a smirk.

“I’m into older guys.”

Oh - you’d pay for that.

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

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𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒎

summary ─ he knew when it was time to step back and let yourself be loved and taken care of. that was why he stepped in.

pairing ─ librarian!bucky barnes x student!reader

warnings ─ soft smut, +18, kissing, soft dom bucky, but like d/s tones are very soft and light, bucky’s taking care of the reader, hugging, cooking, cuddling, thigh fucking, morning sex, sleepy and lazy sex, they’re in loveee

a/n ─ definitely self-indulgent because i need me a bucky like this one lol enjoy! please leave a comment! thank youu <3

You rubbed your eyes and stretched on the chair that you’ve been sitting on for the past two hours. You could feel your brain slowly giving out, your muscles screaming at you for keeping such a shit posture for so long, but you had finals coming and a deadline to catch up. Your eyes were begging you to stop reading and to just close them and sleep a little, but you couldn’t afford sleep at the moment. You got things to do.

Keep reading

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

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perfect || steve rogers x f!reader

summary: reader breaks up with steve over insecurities regarding lack of experience. he insists she is perfect, and proves to her just how perfect she is.

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, multiple creampies, brief size kink, brief daddy kink, virgin reader, hints of a darker steve, blowjob. I think that’s it?

misc: just know, never written steve before so this is VERY new for me. I’m trying to move past my comfort zones. Also this was written on my phone, so. If the format is off that’s mostly why.

also some people I think may enjoy this, @sweetieswiftie @a-bang-for-your-bucky @grippingbeskar @castlesnchurches

You had broken up with him via text.

He didn’t respond well to that. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand what he had done wrong. So, he went to the nearest flower shop and bought a dozen brightly colored dahlias…your favorite. The next thing he had done was go out of his way to get takeout. It was your usual order from the Vietnamese place you had brought him to. Last, he stopped to get you a book. He knew you were reading a series, and decided to get you the next one in the series. Then he found himself at the door of your apartment. He was nervous. Clearing his throat, he knocked.

You pulled the door open without checking, the one thing Steve always got on you for doing. You spoke first, “Steve, I just br” -

“I brought a few things so you might let me in, and tell me why.”

This was the last conversation you were wanting to have. Yet, you knew Steve and he wouldn’t just step away. So, reluctantly, you stepped back and gestured for him to come inside. The aroma of the food he brought followed him to the kitchen, and you smiled at the thought of him going out of his way to get you one of your favorites.

Then your eyes registered flowers as he turned and offered them to you. You looked down with a shy smile before taking them from him, whispering a thanks. Steve’s eyes stayed glued to you as you walked around the tiny island to open it and pull out a vase, filling it with water to drop the flowers inside.

You decided to place the merry vase on your coffee table and as you moved them around in the vase and didn’t look at him, Steve spoke up, “So, are you going to tell me what went wrong? Because last I checked, we were doing wonderful. More than that even.”

You looked at him then, your cheeks redding as you thought of why. You hugged your arms to your torso and Steve looked at you, patiently waiting. There was a reason you broke up with him through text message and you were hoping to avoid this conversation. Desperately. Your eyes were beginning to water and you looked away. Steve stood there, still as a statue. Reluctantly, you come clean, “Look at me, Steve.”

Not understanding, a bit of a laugh escaped him before he answered, confused, “I am.”

“No…look at me. Why do you want me? No one else ever has. I’m not thin enough, not social enough, not bright enough, not…good enough.”

Steve’s face was scrunched with confusion, before he shook his head, “I’m not understanding.”

He watched as you threw your head back with a frustrated sigh. You stomped off to your bedroom in a dramatic fashion that would have been adorable under different circumstances. He bit back his smile. Then, just as swiftly as you exited, you came back and threw a magazine at him. Steve turned to the page you had dog eared and saw a photo taken of the two of you. You were walking into headquarters in streetwear. He didn’t see the issue until he saw the caption.

Captain America Dating Grunt

You watched as he read the article, words ripping you apart and pointing out everything you’ve ever had an insecurity about. When he was done, his hands made quick work of ripping the pages apart. He crossed the space between you and you stepped away, “They’re not wrong Steve…I’m not a good fit for you. Between the looks and the lack of experience, I’m not exactly batting the best.”

Steve came to a still. His blue eyes pierced through you, “You’re perfect.”

“I just…literally anyone else could be better for you. And don’t even get me started on reading everywhere in gossip columns how you should be with a model or the elusive redhead in photos that we both know is Natasha. It’s tiring.” You averted your gaze and picked at your nail beds, an old nervous habit that Steve knew was your bluff. You were lying about something. He just wasn’t sure what.

Instead of hiding it though, he called you out on it, “That’s a lie and we both know it. C’mon beautiful, those comparisons never bothered you before. I know that’s not the issue.”

You knew it wasn’t the issue, too. No, the truth was, the night before last the two of you had gotten much closer and that terrified you for more than one reason. For starters, you were already well in love with him and terrified any time he went on missions. What would happen if you became even more attached? Was it even possible? Then, what if you were bad at it? Sure, the heated kisses and level of intimacy already were wonderful, but you didn’t really know what to do besides that. And, part of you was insecure. What if he didn’t appreciate or even want the full package once it was opened?

Biting at your lip, you mumbled out, “I’ve also…never had sex.”

Steve stared at you in disbelief, his blue eyes taking in the blush on your face.

“I’m sorry?”

“God Steve, I know you heard me.” Your eyes landed on the floor. That seemed the safest option at this moment. Though part of you felt like you might spontaneously combust at any moment. Tears pricked at your eyes in embarrassment.

A small smile hinted at the corners of his lips before he cleared his throat, “I’ve only ever had sex once sweetheart. It’s not like I would have much comparison myself. What if I’m god awful?”

Your head shot up. Only once? How could that be the case? You blinked away your forming tears before sniffling, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better. Look at you. Who wouldn’t be trying for that? You’ve had to have offers.”

“Well, I didn’t get many looks before the serum, and afterwards I was a bit busy with war. It was right before I ended up on the front lines though. So, roughly eighty years ago…” he winced at the way that sounded before laughing, “And now I feel old.”

You found yourself feeling a little better. A laugh escaped you before adding, “You are…but I like that about you. You’re the only grown man I’ve met that likes to dance with me.”

“Sweetheart I will do absolutely anything with you.”

A fierce blush spread across your face and you cleared your throat, “Wanna help me eat the food you brought?”

“Only if it means you’ve rescinded the breakup.”

“I suppose I acted with haste.”

“You can say that again. And just know, I will never ask you to do something that would make you uncomfortable.” His hand found yours, engulfing your small hand in size and warmth and comfort. That was just Steve.

The two of you sat at your small table in the kitchen and ate in peace with one another. You moved to clear the table and Steve stood and began to help. You moved in comfortable silence. Though, there was an odd electricity in the air, knowing what each of you knew now. And, as he brushed your hair back and kissed you goodbye, his lips lingered on yours and you ran a hand through his hair before deepening the kiss.

He chuckled deeply as he broke the kiss, thumb stroking your cheek, speaking softly, “I have to say, there is no way you’ll be bad at it, and there is no way I won’t enjoy it. But I have to go sweetheart. Bucky and I are getting shipped out in less than an hour now, but I couldn’t leave things the way they were. You’re too important to me.”

He kissed you again on the cheek and you called out once he turned around, “Hey.”

Steve looked back at you, a smile spreading on his face as you said three words, “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I will see you when I get back, yeah?”

As you nodded, your heart feeling lighter with your revelation, he left out and you softly closed the door behind him, whispering, “Be safe.”

Steve made it in record time to the military air strip, weaving in and out of traffic on his bike. When he pulled up he saw Bucky already there. Even as Steve climbed off the bike, Bucky was impatient to learn, “How did it go with your girl?”

“Well, she said she loved me for the first time…” Steve wasn’t sure how much to divulge to his best friend.

Though, over the course of the mission, Steve accidentally slipped up on just what the problem was. They were at a small cafe grabbing a bite to eat when Steve slipped up. Bucky put his food down and looked at Steve incredulous, “No, there’s no way. A girl that looks like that” -

“Hey, watch it!”

“Steve, I was just saying, I don’t believe it. There’s no way no one has really tried before.” Bucky remembered when he first met you, how if you were anyone else’s but Steve’s he would have tried to take you away.

Steve was getting uncomfortable with the conversation though and dismissed it, “No it makes sense. She spends so much time at work and in that lab. It’s the only reason I met her when I did. I was with Natasha and she brought me with her. Said she needed to pick up some new equipment. But now? She was absolutely trying to fix us up.”

Bucky nodded as he finished his meal. As Steve went to take another bite, Bucky offered his unsolicited advice, “Eat with enthusiasm.”

Steve choked a bit on his last bite and once he cleared his throat gave Bucky a shove, his friend laughing playfully.

Meanwhile, back home you paged Natasha to come and meet you in the lab. When the redhead got there, looking around as though expecting to see a reason she was there, you waved at her and stated, “Natasha I need your help.”

She walked over towards you and cocked an eyebrow when she saw your face already getting red, “Everything okay?”

“I, uh…I don’t know what to wear for an…event.”

“Okay, well, what’s the event?”

Your blush spread to your ears and you timidly showed her your phone screen. You had been looking at lingerie. It didn’t take long for you to realize that you were incredibly out of your depth. Which is when you called her in. Natasha tried to bite back a smirk but you could hear it in her voice, “And what an event it is.”

“I wanted something special but also everything I’ve found just feels a bit…”

“Much?”

You nodded, feeling relieved she understood and also kept you from over explaining.

Natasha reached below your work space and grabbed your purse and nodded to the door, “Take the lab coat off and come with me. You’re taking a personal day and I don’t think anyone will mind.”

A week later found you looking at your phone in your apartment, nervously eyeing your last text received. As much as I want to go home and shave before you see me, I missed you too much. On my way to see you.

You had slipped into what you and Natasha had settled on as soon as you received his message. To cover it, the two of you had decided on a loose fitting silk slip dress in a light pink. You tied the nude colored silk sash around your waist. It still baffled you that stockings could cost so damn much, not even acknowledging the rest of it. You had always been a mismatched sports bra and panty kind of girl. A blush spread over your cheeks as you thought of what you were wearing. Huffing, you looked up at the ceiling and spoke to no one but yourself, “Get it together, girl.” A yelp followed as a knock interrupted your self talk, and you could feel your heartbeat already beginning to race.

Walking to the door, you looked through the eyehole and your breath caught in your throat. It was Steve. You fumbled with the locks long enough for it to be noticeable. Was that sweat on your palms?

By the time you got the door open, Steve’s face held a questioning look. That was, until he drank in the sight of you. His tongue reflexively licked his bottom lip, blue eyes traveling slowly up your body until they rested on your face, “Jesus sweetheart, you look incredible. I hope you didn’t get dressed up just for me though...”

Looking down to hide the new blush erupting on your cheeks, you took a step back to let him inside.

When you looked back up, you felt your insides clench at the sight of him. He had a beard. His hair had gotten the tiniest bit longer. Something about him not looking as polished as he normally did had your stomach fluttering. That was when you realized you were just staring, your mouth slightly open and eyes glazed over with lust. Snapping yourself out of it and doing your best to ignore his knowing smirk, you cleared your throat and responded brutally honest, “You're exactly who I dressed up for.”

You winced at the way it sounded. You turned and walked away, face in hand, wondering just how red your face could get. Steve let out a sympathetic laugh before walking in behind you and closing the door. He sat on the couch as you went into the kitchen. You opened a bottle of Pinot noir and poured a rather…healthy glass. Taking a sip you called out, “Want anything to drink Steve?”

“No I’m good sweetheart.”

Letting a sigh escape, you downed the entire glass before dry heaving at the feel of so much red wine at your throat before chugging water. Walking into the living room, your eyes immediately fell on Steve.

At first you were looking at his face, tired and eyes closed. However, soon your eyes fell lower. Your mouth ran dry. You had never understood the excitement over sweatpants weather. Until now. Resting between his legs was the larg-

-“well sweetheart I came here to see you, so come over here please?”

Pulled as though by attraction alone, you found yourself standing before him before straddling his hips. Your fingers were shaking as you threaded them through his hair, whispering, “I missed you.”

Before you could think, you found your lips slowly working on his neck. A groan escaped him as you continued along his shoulder. Your hands grabbed hold on the back of his biceps before you rocked your hips slightly, experimenting.

Steve’s hands instinctively grabbed at your thighs to try and steady you, to try and slow you. You looked at him, studying the face you knew you loved more than you thought possible. His blue eyes looked at you, silently questioning. It had you thinking of what you wanted. Him. Leaning forward, you whispered softly to him as though scared anyone else might hear something so private, “I’m yours, Steve. And I want you to take what’s yours.”

The two of you stared at one another in silence, your turn to smile at the disbelief on his face. He only snapped out of it when you rocked your hips forward again. His fingers wrapped around your thighs as he stood and picked you up. A shriek of laughter at the unexpected movement escaped you before his lips found yours, your own hands weaving into his hair to eagerly return the gesture.

As Steve backed you into your bedroom door, you let go of his hair to open the handle. Just as you did and broke the kiss Steve asked you, “Seeetheart, are you sure?”

“I am sure, Steve. Just promise you’ll still love me after?” Just as you asked, your door opened and the two of you fell through. His lips were once again on yours, answering your question with a kiss.

You landed on your bed with Steve on top of you. Your legs parted for him immediately to make space and his hand ran along the outside of your thighs, pausing where the stocking gave way to soft lace. He buried his head in your neck at the same time. Possibly to hide his own blush. But then you heard his voice, teasing and affectionate, “Did you wear these for me sweetheart?”

Just as he asked you, he bucked his hips into you. Both of you were still clothed. You suddenly realized there was too much fabric in the way. And yet, the feeling of his cock straining against the fabric of his sweatpants elicited a moan from you. Steve nearly whines as he repeated the action, another lustful sound escaping you, before whispering, “Such pretty stockings for such a pretty girl. Gonna keep them on you, is that alright?”

There was a question. Yet, you weren’t sure what it was as Steve’s free hand caressed your face before kissing you again. The pressure on your lips was bruising but it didn’t matter. You just needed more of him. Your hands found his back, clinging to him as he continued dry humping you.

You were so quick to respond. It didn’t take long for your arousal to spread through your body, soaking your pretty nude panties and leaving a damp spot against his sweatpants. Then, the smell of you reached Steve just as he grunted at the feeling of your arousal wetting his sweatpants. You smelled divine. You felt heavenly. Now? He needed to taste.

Steve’s mouth slowly worked down your neck. You moaned as his tongue grazed over a sensitive spot on your neck that neither of you knew you had, licking along the soft line of your clavicle, before he placed a kiss between your breasts.

It was there that he paused and looked down…wanting to know what you looked like. This dress, as pretty as it was on you, was in his way. A soft smile as he glanced up to you before muttering apologies had you confused until his hands made easy work of the dress, ripping it down the middle. The soft silk pooled around your sides as he let go and his blue eyes roamed over you before huffing, “Sweetheart, I will say it again and again till you believe me. You’re perfect.”

Something shifted in him and he fell onto you, mouth hot and hungry as he explored your body. His wet tongue on the delicate lace cup of your bra as he kept rutting against you. Another moan tumbled from your lips before it turned into a desperate whine, his tongue through the fabric igniting your core.

Steve was running on autopilot now, thinking of everything he had wanted to do for so long, your pretty little sounds driving him on. His hands pulled at the cups so that you spilled out. His mouth closed over your nipple, the direct contact causing you to arch your back…getting closer to him. Cool air hit your damp nipple, causing it to peak. Steve’s mouth fell to the other, his fingers lightly pulling and twisting at the one his mouth abandoned.

That combined with the way his cock grinded against you was sending you somewhere you hadn’t been before. You had cum before but suddenly your own fingers felt so lackluster as they clutched to his back, your nails giving him pleasure in an unexpected way. And then, just when you felt yourself on the precipice, Steve’s hand came between the two of you. His mouth continued sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin and his fingers slipped beneath your underwear, the slickness of your arousal making it far too easy to slip his middle finger inside of you.

Just like that, you called out for him, your cream covering his thick digit as he pulled it from you.

You watched, equally hypnotized and mortified as he pulled back and sucked that finger into his mouth, licking it clean. A soft smile was on his face as he looked down at you, his voice coming out almost strained, “Yeah….perfect.”

It was only then that he looked down at himself, arousal evident, that same teasing affectionate voice from earlier surfacing, “And you thought I could possibly not want you, sweetheart?”

Your eyes were large as you looked at him. Timid at first, never having done this, you hooked your fingers around his waistband before pulling them down. His cock was heavy as it fell free and you were suddenly intimidated by the size of it.

On your hands and knees before him, Steve sitting back on his heels now, you slowly smeared the precum coming from his top down…surprised by just how soft the skin was.

Steve moaned at your slight touch. His head fell back, eyes shut, relishing at the tiniest amount of contact. What he wasn’t expecting was what you did next, sucking on the head of his cock while lazily dragging your hand down. A hiss escaped him before he looked at you. Your ass was in the air as you dragged your tongue around him. It was like you were teasing him with it. Come and get me.

The movement surprised both of you. You, because it felt so good to be stretched just a bit more, and him because it forced you to take about half of him into your mouth. Steve made to pull back but you were so encouraged by the noises he made that you had the opposite idea in mind. Instead, you took more of him into your mouth and Steve cried out, “Fuck!”

It sounded so unlike him, so uncharacteristic. Grunts came from him as your head moved up and down. A growl came from him. And suddenly he was giving you praise that you never expected to hear from him, “You look so pretty like this. Gonna leave that delicious cream on my fingers again, this time with my cock in your mouth, huh?”

“Oh g…Steve!” His words, his fingers, were driving you crazy.

You took him back into your mouth just as you came, the vibrations of your moans causing him to follow behind you. You eagerly sucked down everything he gave you, the taste of him salty on your tongue.

He slowly pulled his fingers from you, again watching him lick them clean. You felt your pussy flutter when he took them away, a whine escaping you that wasn’t missed by him. He helped you lay back down, your legs once again eagerly splayed open for him. A soft smile appeared on his face as he slowly ran the head of his cock along your folds, “I have a confession sweetheart.”

You were confused, “A…confession?”

“I planted a bug underneath your bed one day, a few months back, and I’ve touched myself listening to you whimpering around your fingers, knowing how much better you’d sound with your pretty pussy taking me. Does that bother you?” His confession had you more aroused than anything and you shook your head no while bucking your hips up for friction against his cock.

“After I claim your pretty little pussy, you’re mine in every way. Are you ready for that?”

You felt your pussy weeping with arousal at the anticipation of it. Frantic, you shook your head yes before barely managing to say, “Yes. M’yours.”

Steve shifted and slowly pushed his cock inside of you. You cried out at the stretch before commenting, “S’not gonna fit.”

“Oh it will sweetheart. You’ll be taking all of me soon, and then you’ll feel so good and full.”

His thumb fell on your exposed clit, the stretch he was already inflicting on your pussy giving him easy access. He rocked the first few inches back and forth inside of you while rubbing circles around your sensitive bud. Steve shuddered a bit. Even this bit inside of you felt like heaven. He screwed his eyes shut and muttered, “Gonna cum already sweetheart. Feel so good. Are you…oh god.”

He couldn’t finish asking if you were on birth control before his cum was filling you, his still hard cock pulsing inside of you. Steve bent his head down and took one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing further inside of you. You moaned at the sensation before begging, “Fill me with your cock Steve. I’m ready. I - oh fuck - I need you.”

In one fluid motion he pulled you up as he sat back, impaling you on his cock. You cried out at the sensation before instinctively rocked your hips with a moan, settling skin to skin.

Steve held your face with his hands, checking in, “Is everything alright sweetheart?”

You nodded before commenting, “I never expected something to feel so right.”

“Gonna lay you down now sweetheart so I can see my cock fucking you. I’ve wanted it for too long.”

He kissed you deeply before laying you back down and leaning back. He pulled out of you, his semen from before spilling from you, before he pushed back in and watched a bulge in your lower stomach appear. He slowly rocked before pressing on the area where his cock was moving, causing you to spasm with pleasure. Excited by your response he picked up the pace, “That’s my cock deep inside you sweetheart.”

The words escaped you before you realized but it didn’t matter. Steve had heard you before when he listened in…your pretty little voice begging. He didn’t expect you to feel so comfortable so soon though, “Feel so good buried in me daddy.”

Steven doubled his effort at your revelation, fucking away any doubt that what you said was wrong. At his sudden increase you felt your orgasm hit you. You were calling out for him, skin slicked with sweat, nails scratching along his back. Steve swallowed your cries hungrily as he leaned over to kiss you, his second orgasm rushing over him. He gasped out, “G-gonna cum sweetheart. Gonna fill your pretty little pussy with me.”

“Gonna fill me up till I can’t hold anymore daddy?”

Steve growled out, “Fuck.”

At that, he shot his cum deep inside of you, stilling for a moment with his blue eyes fixated on you, “See? Fucking perfect. And mine.”

As he claimed you with words you felt his cock stir inside of you once again.

“Yours. Only yours, Steve.”

As he drove his hips into you, he hung his head, “I was so eager, I forgot to…eat with enthusiasm .”

Feeling emboldened, you used his moment of uncertainty to flip him to his back…sinking down onto him just the slightest bit more. You looked down at him before rolling your hips, “Plenty of time later, Steve. I’ve waited too long for this.”

The two of you spent the next few hours like this until finally, your pussy was too tired, too bruised.

You lay there in the bed, your leg and arm over him with your head on his chest. All of his cum was slowly leaking from you and down your thighs, though there were also splattered with it from him fucking your breasts too. He traced an imaginary pattern on your back as he whispered, “I love you so much, sweetheart. I’m yours.”

A chill ran down your back for some reason as he added, “And you’re mine.”

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

Note

napping on the couch together if you feel so inclined 🥺💖

I'm here

bucky x f!reader (gif not indicative of reader description)

w.c: 2.5k

a/n: Col, this strayed far from what it was originally meant to be, but I couldn't help myself. I hope you enjoy it<3

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤.

Bucky’s never been one to be overbearing, in any way.

Protective and doting, certainly– never so that his attentive means of care made you feel anything but cherished, supported, grounded.

Your Bucky.

Meeting you, loving you, allowing something so priceless into his world, has changed everything for him. There’s a burning need to be the one constant in your life that knows you. To be the man who can take the pressures of the world from off of your shoulders with ease, weaving himself around every twinge of sadness, eclipsing all murmurs of insignificance and unrest, until all you know is the weight of his breath shouldering your heart.

“You listenin’ to me?” it’s not a question he ever finds himself asking, but tonight, his girl’s exhausted. Completely drained. And she came home with the wind knocked out of her lungs and harrowing sobs strangling her light.

Those familiar knuckles, vibranium and oh-so purposeful, stroked along your cheeks while rosy concern emanated from the swells of his own. Bucky finds it necessary now– their delicate dance of outlining the shape of your nose, smoothing the lines of distress and the tremble of your lips resting against his muscles– they’re the culprit of what coaxed your eyes shut in mere seconds.

His hands wield so much power– fragile, firm, thrilling tenderness you weren’t sure existed anywhere else outside of his touch. Impossible not to surrender to, falling deeper and deeper under his protection. But it’s purely selfish now how desperate Bucky is to touch you, to quell every fiber of worry or unease with the brush of his palm. He lives for the moment your body relaxes under his care, all tension and pain evaporating within the caress of his love. “Someone ready for bed?”

His voice is a whisper, a warm and honeyed heaven blanketing every inch of you. How a man of his size embodies the breeze of gentle winds rustling through blades of grass, well. You never have to wonder.

A fearsome beauty to behold, otherworldly– Bucky shines, burnished and ethereal; all of the terrifying Angel you know him to be.

The patter of freezing rain and rough winds plaguing the windows reminded you of how safe you were inside the life you shared. After all the isolating thoughts, after all the feelings of restless insignificance swimming round and round between your ears– Bucky’s here, soothing it all. Erasing any lingering struggle to find your footing, leaving nothing but the ghost of worshiping lips with husky whispers of how proud he is of you, how desperately he loves you with indescribable devotion rushing from his soul.

Each stroke, each breath, each kiss that danced along your skin echoes the sentiment of words Bucky’d shower you with until the day his heart stopped “Oh my sweet girl, I’m here.”

Crying had never felt so safe than while enveloped in his arms, strong hands soothing long paths along your tense back, lips falling protectively against your temple. He touches you as if you're the very thing that lights the sky; his words are hardly enough to prove how much of a miracle you are. Because to him, you are.

His miracle.

His pink lips barely leave your skin as his words sink in– a devastating touch each inch and scar of your being knows; Bucky’s kiss is final. And it lives within each curve, each insecurity, each smile, each ugly secret he knows took all the trust in the world to let him see, loving them enough for the both of you and then some– “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”

Bucky’s lips brand the words permanently, in absolution with tremors of his vigorous desire to be everything for you. “I got you. Whatever you need, let me,”– you need him, always.

Tonight hadn’t been any different. After what felt like hours of being shielded by his unwavering tenderness, of sobbing into his chest so rawly Bucky swore he felt his heart shredding in two, trying his hardest to catch all of you and never let go– resting your eyes for a moment against his stomach seemed to be just what you needed. Your head shook against thick muscle, his relaxing fingers slowed at your hairline, “N’am not, not tired. Just keep talking.”

Cool metal etched silent promises down to your hip, his piercing gaze staring at you with that look– the one that says he’s perfectly intent on staying like this, loving you, holding you until the messy and unforgiving world made a bit more sense. He needs it more than you most of the time. And then he’d get to hold you some more; knowing the overwhelming emotion he felt every time he looked at you was at peace within your veins.

“Really?” that deep voice crooned, playful, “‘Cause I think, you’re fallin’ asleep on me.”

Work had been hell the past few weeks while feelings of being alone were at an all-time high. Between wrestling with self-doubt, a workload that had somehow weaseled its way into your life and into the nightmares that kept you tossing and turning, all of the yelling and berating that shook you to your core because of mistakes that were entirely out of your control– of course. It was impossible not to.

You were falling asleep on the gentle thing you could never, ever, get enough of immersing yourself in. The one thing that proved time and time again, you could never be alone while Bucky still had air filling his lungs.

And maybe that’s why it’s so effortless to do so. The one thing that saw all of your broken pieces, the sharp edges you felt would threaten even the strongest– Bucky saw them, could paint them all by name like the scars marring his own body. He held them so tenderly, cherished each piece of you that you deemed burdensome so fiercely; nothing about you was a burden. Bucky admired all of you, desired all of you with a fervent need. It made your head spin, it made you feel whole.

“I’m not, just wanna hear your voice. Promise, I’m awake.” Bucky could hardly find it in himself to blink, not when your lips spread in a sweet smile he hadn’t seen in weeks. So small, so muted compared to the brilliance that nearly brought him to his knees every damn time he was in the presence of one. But it’s yours. “Please…”.

It’s weakening, mesmerizing, the bruise you leave with every display of your love. The serum only makes a man so strong; he’d never get enough of the way you wounded him.

Bucky gleams, and if you weren’t so spent, you’d see the air of ease filling his chest, the expanse of his shoulders quaking with reprieve.

Just when you thought you’d known everything there was to know about being seen, guarded by your very own earth angel, his hand closed around yours, tugging it gently to rest against his sternum. Bucky closed his eyes, leaning down to rest his nose within your knuckles. Inhaling, pulling you apart by the very seams and mending all at once– it seemed almost silly, how necessary his lips feel claiming the skin of your fingers, but your body felt the sensitive accusation of his kiss tenfold, “Even here. I’m here, too.”

You couldn’t stop the tears that blurred your vision if you tried.

There’s a lilt, always, pleasant and solid in his sigh when his eyes meet yours, your nerves buzzing from the way he always breathes you in vying for more. Vibranium tickles the tears under your eyes with adoration, a confirmation, he’d let you pretend you’re not falling asleep, that you really wanted to listen to him ramble on and on– so long as he gets to wound you, too.

That’s all you’ll ever need.

Your body knows, even on the cusp of sleep it craves him. More him, always more. His warmth, his support, the irresistible smell of his skin that always comes before relief. It slowly shifts, uncurling itself from the dip of the couch and closer to where Bucky’s fingers concealed your own.

His hands revel in that, it’s all they itch for; guiding your frame closer until your body collapses with deliverance, lashes teasing against his skin while your breathing slowed even more.

His eyes certainly never risk closing when you burrow further into his chest, hiding that exhausted pout within the shadows of his neck just above rough scar tissue. How could he miss even a second?

The echo of your heart mirrored the air puffing down his neck with every exhale sighed and it’s a revelation. Bucky revels in how perfect it feels to be wanted, to be trusted so deeply by the person who fills every color of his life with undying affection. He takes none of it for granted, especially not the soft hums the most distracting lips fall to adorn his throat with.

And then they melt on his skin, the featherlight promise of Bucky’s miracle resting against his pulse, again and again and again– it’s hardly his fault a shiver eases down his spine. Those damn lips. He’ll never be able to find language to express to you how good it feels, how addicting you are.

He’d do anything for you, be anything for you.

“Alright, sweet girl,” those strong hands wrap around your waist, plush lips greeting your eyelids with a dynamic song that sings I’m here. It’s okay to let go, let go, sweet girl. Let me love you. You’ve heard it countless times– have felt it endlessly since the first moment you invited him in behind those towering, frightening walls of your heart. But it’s soft, orchestrated with vulnerable direction, scruff-laced harmonies whispered against every inch of you, ostinato declarations of desire with a certain timbre only you know the key of “I’ll take care of you, just let me love you.”

“You’re gonna have to hear all about my perfect girl, but I can do that. Jus’let me hold you right.” The couch pillows already share the imprint of your body pressed up against his, of countless hours of entwined limbs and thick muscles sheltered within your arms. Yet, it always feels new, a different welcome each time, somehow more familiar than the last.

Bucky rearranged you both lying with his back nestled in the cushions, cradling you right atop his heart. “She’s so bright, the smartest.” Long fingers lifted under your chin, catching your eyes in their fight to stay open.

“And she’s the kindest soul, swear she’s made of stars.” He couldn’t help himself; that breathtaking glimmer washing so peacefully over your face, the trying lift of your mouth; he smoothed the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip before placing a kiss just under your nose, “beautiful,” on the plump of your cheek, “so, so beautiful,” on the corner of your mouth, “precious”. Bucky’s lips meld so softly with your own, your breath tasting of surrender, of bliss.

A sniffle slipped out, once then twice. “Strong. So damn strong,” a third time is when your body followed through with its fate, shaking slightly against him.

The way he holds you, knows you, worships you, leaving no room for questioning the torrents of emotion he treads– it’s maddening. Bucky walks with the years of his own pain, yet bleeds with the certainty of just how easy it is to love you, to devour you whole with the joyous bruise of being loved in return.

“Shh hey, hey…what?” he worried, rubbing a calloused thumb from your quivering lip all the way to your creased forehead.

“What what?”

Forced bemusement of his concern rumbled delightedly beneath you, “You’re okay,” his nose bumped against yours, lips following, “but what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” Bucky’s nose wiggled down to behind your ear, peppering quick pecks on the skin there until you were squirming.

You giggled– oh god you fucking giggle and Bucky’s ruined. It erupted, and he felt it everywhere; goosebumps, swirling until they bled so potent beneath his skin. Nothing else could matter more than the promising sound of the home he’s allowed himself to live in.

“I don’t know,” he feels it in your eyes– so telling of the devotion Bucky deserves– honest, and they can’t seem to get enough of the curve of his nose, the freckles that dance along the high points of his concerned features. Those serene, startling blue eyes. Always seeing you, always longing for you.

Home. Your Bucky.

“I’m just so tired.”

Bucky would relive every moment he’s endured to always know what it feels like to be loved by you, to be clung to in your most vulnerable of states, with glazed-over eyes tormented and drowsy, to know of the rapture that exists in holding you tight until the air drowning your lungs is full of his love, of soothing breaths. To nurture you, accept your feelings and emotions with open hands, however they may present themselves.

He wants it all. Just you.

Bucky could only pull you closer, breathing you in as plump lips gently lay on your forehead, resolute arms embracing you with reverence.

He clears his throat, ready for you to listen, “Sometimes, I wonder how I got here. You know how special this is to me? The light of my dreams, so damn comfortable in my arms. Did’ya know that? Used to dream of you,” his knuckles swiped away the remaining wet trails from your face, calloused fingers softly spidering along your shoulders.

“Really? My Bucky?”

My Bucky– god he could burst.

The flush spreading along his cheeks hardly phased him, he nestled his nose against you further, nodding.

“Didn’t ever get to see you, but I know it. Had to be you, watching over me. Better than I could have even imagined. Sweetest damn eyes, hurts my chest a little just thinking about going a whole lifetime without ever knowing them. Prettiest heart in the whole world, you save me a little more every time I look at ya. When I get to hold you. You have no idea what you are to me.”

Me? your tongue attempted. It comes out as more of a yawn, already asleep.

“All I ever needed. Lucky bastard I am, huh?” Bucky hates how the world seems to take your compassion for granted, walking all over your kindness as if it’s expendable. It’s not. Not even a little bit. God only knows the serenity it’s granted him, of the fresh air it’s offered Bucky to live within each day.

“You’re the first thing I’ve had in a long time. And you make me feel whole, capable. I could be myself, learn to, at least. Not… disappear. Could never do that, not now. I have years to make up for, a whole life to live. A home to get back to at the end of the day. And I got the sweetest thing in the whole damn universe to love. You got no idea…”

A questioning whimper of his name rumbles against his throat, safe and asleep in the soundness of his chest.

“M’right here, sweet girl. I got you.” Your Bucky, he thought.

The rain kept pouring, the night remained dark and chilled, but all Bucky could focus on was the heart beating warmly against his own. He counted your breaths as they landed safely within his black and gold shoulder– the only metal that would ever know the enormity of what a miracle you were– just as his eyelids drift closed.

“M’right here, sweet girl. I got you.” Your Bucky, he thought.

The rain kept pouring down, the night remained dark and chilled, but all Bucky could focus on was the heart beating warmly against his own. He counted your breaths as they landed safely within his black and gold shoulder; the only metal that truly knew the enormity of what a miracle you were; just as his eyelids drift closed.

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

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Apples and Cherries

Part Three to Coffee and Cinnamon and Maple Latte

Word Count: 2048

Summary: A bakery mishap leaves Steve scrambling.

Warnings: More fluff and foolishness and a mistreated kitchen item

A/N: Sorry for the delay, my fine friends. They’ve got me working so much overtime, it legitimately feels illegal. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Steve was jittery as he made his way into the bakery that morning. There wasn’t really a good reason to be. He just felt… something.

Things had been different between the two of you lately, since he started going in and buying coffee every morning.

The rivalry was still very much alive, but it had lost some of its edge. Your comments were more playful than biting, when you bothered to insult him at all. You smiled more. Genuine smiles instead of the dark eyed grins that he found more than slightly terrifying. You touched more. Overlapping fingers during the exchange of coffee cups and pastries. Nudges with elbows and knuckles and shoulders. An occasional arm squeeze.

(Three of them, to be exact. Not that he was keeping track. That would be weird.)

Keep reading

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

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Easy When It Rains

Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

(ASMR+Playlist📻!)

WC-888

Includes -Soft!Husband Bucky, Domestic fluff, dancing in the kitchen

A/N; Hiii! This idea came from an ASMR I found on here a couple days ago as well as a rainy friday night of writing (my favorite kind), its pure domestic fluff! Hope y’all like it<33 Divider by @firefly-graphics

It was raining when he left, and it’s raining now as the sound of keys jingling against the lock announce his arrival home, the radio is playing quietly .

The soft sound of rain beats down on the roof of your brownstone, it mixes with the music, creating one of your favorite sounds.

They're playing all the best of the big bands on the “Golden Oldies” station.

You know the night will end with laughter and dancing because of it.

You have your back turned to the door, standing in front of the stove stirring the sauce for the pasta he had requested for dinner when he had called you on his way home.

The door opens and heavy footsteps melt into the rain and music, the sound of keys being hung up into the hook, his wallet in the little dish on the table by the door, the thud of boots being put on the side mat for weather like today.

You turn slightly so that out of the corner of your eye you can see him shuck off his beat-up leather jacket and hang it up on the coat rack, the way the muscles in his back ripple make you bite your lip and silently giggle to yourself as you face the stove again, even after 5 years you're smitten with him.

and then comes your absolute favorite sound in the world.

His voice.

“Hey, Dollface! I’m Home!” You can hear the relief that colors it as he greets you.

“Welcome Home Jay” your voice holds the same relief.

Bucky being away never gets easier, it was hard when you were first dating, and it was hard when you got engaged. when you were newlyweds, and even now 5 years later it's hard.

What's easy is when he’s home, when your nights are spent cooking together and dancing in the living room.

“Did you go pick up the order from the butcher and the grocer like I-“

“Yes I did, 2 pounds of rosemary & red wine sausage, one spatchcock chicken, broccolini, one box of mirepoix, and one bag of potatoes. Just as the queen asked for, I also got that wine you like at the Bodega,”

He recites the list you had given him from memory with his signature toothy grin, as he triumphantly holds up his favorite accessory for shopping trips, a very large rainbow print bag from Ikea, a bag that despite how big it is. still looks small in comparison to his size.

“Thank you, my love, can you put everything in the fridge?”

Once again before you had even finished your sentence he was already opening the door and putting everything into their designated areas.

Sometimes you wonder if he can read your mind,

He strides over to you, arms wrapping around your waist and chin finding a home on your shoulder.

“Also Sunday dinner with everyone is on if you're up to it Darlin”

You hummed in agreement, moving slightly to give him a peck on the cheek.

“Dinners ready, can you get the plates?”

He returns your peck on the cheek and obliges, humming along to the song that's floating through the air, while grabbing his favorite bowls from the cupboard as well as your favorite set of wine glasses.

You plate the food and he pours the wine.

The two of you carry yourselves and your meal over to the couch, sitting down together as close as you could while also eating.

You talk about how things have been since you last saw each other properly, You talk about how your class went on a field trip to the national history museum, about how they reacted when they saw his picture next to Steves on the wall, the chorus of “WAIT A MINUTE! MRS. BARNES ISN’T THAT YOUR HUSBAND?!”

You tell him about how your choir kids are doing and how excited you are for their winter recital next month, he in turn reminds you to put it on the calendar for him so he’ll remember.

He tells you about how Red-Wing was on the fritz and Sam fell flat on his ass in front of a bunch of freshman agents, He updates you on all the recent changes at the compound, He tells you about the new Chinese restaurant he and Steve tried when they had a break from their latest mission, promising that he’d take you there for your next date night.

You promise to hold him to it.

He doesn’t ever talk about his missions or the life-or-death situations he’s been in that week unless it's absolutely necessary.

His promise of not bringing his work home in his wedding vows has stuck, as has everything else.

And for that you are grateful.

After dinner is finished he whisks away the dishes and the pots that you cooked with and puts them in the sink with a little bit of dish soap and water to let them soak.

Ever the gentleman, He grabs your hand and with that same toothy smile asks you to dance.

So you do, spinning & swaying to the song coming through the radio on the kitchen window sill as it mixes with the pitter-pattering of the rain.

In each other's arms, you find peace because you’re together. And it's easy, even with the rain.

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

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A Taste for Older Men Masterlist

dbf!bucky barnes au

warnings: age gap [reader is around 22 & bucky is 39]; never ending elements of dominance, submission and brat taming; masturbation and toys; dirty talk; orgasm denial; oral sex and dick worship; degradation; spanking; face slapping (consensual of course); mild daddy kink; voyeurism; size kink; penetrative sex; praise kink; breath play; bucky falls in love, y/n doesn’t.

seventven’s complete masterlist

A Taste for Older Men [part i]

summary: y/n is moving back in with her parents after breaking up with her college boyfriend. due to an emergency at work, y/n’s dad is unable to pick her up and sends his friend bucky in his stead. to bucky’s surprise, y/n is no longer the innocent girl he remembers from years back.

A Taste for Older Men [part ii]

summary: bucky comes over to watch a game with y/n’s father. alone in her room and still consumed by her previous conversation with him, y/n drowns in wicked thoughts of bucky.

A Taste for Older Men [part iii]

summary: bucky volunteers to fix the sink at y/n’s family home while her parents are away. a discussion about recent events leads to an agreement.

A Taste for Older Men [part iv]

summary: a barbecue with y/n’s parents turns from bad to worse when y/n decides to give bucky a taste of his own medicine. towards the end of the night, y/n is assigned the task of giving him a ride home. she receives payback for her bad behaviour.

A Taste for Older Men [part v]

summary: bucky invites y/n over to his apartment so they can spend an intimate evening together. things quickly slip out of control. an unexpected guest brings them back to reality.

A Taste for Older Men [part vi]

summary: bucky and y/n’s family receive an invitation to a common friend’s birthday party. one thing leads to another and soon, y/n’s father confronts the guy she’s been drunkenly flirting with. bucky decides he is sick of y/n’s immaturity. but is he really?

A Taste for Older Men [part vii]

summary: pleased with y/n’s apology for her bad behaviour, bucky finally gives her what she has been craving this whole time. in the middle of the night and with her dad sleeping peacefully down the hall, y/n’s dirty little fantasy comes to life. at the end, y/n comes to a frightening realisation.

A Taste for Older Men [part viii]

summary: a less than pleasant conversation over breakfast leads to bucky making the decision that y/n’s father deserves to know about them. y/n’s wants and needs differ from those of bucky.

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

Text

winter solider, literally

summary - it’s your first time seeing snow and Bucky is more than happy to enjoy it with you

warnings: a lot of fluff basically, that’s it.

pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader

word count: +1.2k

Thinking back, maybe you shouldn’t have run and jumped on top of an ex-asasain whilst he was sleeping.

Now that you were pinned beneath him he had finally come around from his sleep. Since sleeping next to you he had been getting long, peaceful, nights of sleep. Sometimes, like today, he wouldn’t even notice you climb out of bed and rustle around because he was sleeping so deep.

“Wha.. Why are dressed up like the Michelin man?” He asked, blinking his eyes because he thought that they were deceiving him.

They weren’t. You were wrapped up in over eight layers of tops and trousers.

Keep reading

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

Text

Protector

Summary: When Steve gets injured on the field protecting you, Bucky lashes out at you from fear of seeing you in danger, and jealously of Steve’s arms around you.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Avenger!reader, platonic Steve x Female!Avenger!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff (y'all know we only do happy endings here)

Warnings: Jealous Bucky, Bucky being slightly mean to reader out of over-protectiveness, minor character injury, I’m not very good at writing action scenes I apologize 🙇🏻‍♀️

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: My creative juices are floooowing lately! I have so many ideas saved in my drafts 😭 Please let me know if you liked this one!

"On your feet. Again." Steve’s voice was authoritative, demanding, as per usual. He gestured his hand at you as you lay on your back, skin gleaming with sweat.

You gave him a faux-scowl, the muscles in your legs shaking with exhaustion as you forced yourself to stand, hands bracing themselves on your knees.

"Wait. Need a breather," you said, shaking your head. Your hair was coming loose from your ponytail, and Bucky's fingers itched to neatly sweep the strands back from out of your face.

He watched silently from one side of the room, observing your sparring session with Steve. He was going pretty tough on you, though he told you it was for your own good.

"No breathers out in the field," Steve grunted, tackling you and practically tossing you over his shoulder, but with enough finesse so you landed safely on your butt.

"Hey!" you exclaimed loudly in shock. If you had been looking, you would have seen how Bucky reflexively half-rose from his perch, afraid that you had actually been hurt, until he saw the way you scrunched your nose in annoyance at Steve and bounced back on your feet indignantly.

"I was making a point -" Steve ducked to the side when you launched a fist towards his head, then threw out a sharp roundhouse kick. You just managed to graze the top of his hair, and he laughed jovially.

"Almost. Try again."

Bucky settled back in his seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched you throw yourself again and again at Steve. Especially when Steve's strong arm encircled your waist, the other one hooking itself under your thigh to throw you onto the ground once more.

He clenched his fist, wishing it was him with his hands on your body instead, and in an entirely different setting.

His excuse for being in the training room was to try and see where your weak spots were and offer you pointers, in hopes that you would improve your hand-to-hand combat. You were an excellent sharpshooter, and could easily defend yourself, but needed to work on your offensive attacks.

Lately, the idea of you attacking someone head on had been making Bucky feel uneasy. Which was ridiculous, since you were part of the team and it was literally your job, but he found that it was affecting his focus out on the field. He felt like he had a constant obligation to look out for you, to protect you.

It seemed like Steve shared the same sentiment. The super soldiers were both oddly protective over you, and it had actually been Steve's idea to up your training in recent months.

The way you moaned as Steve landed a punch in your abdomen made Bucky simultaneously want to rugby tackle his best friend to the ground, and somehow planted sinful thoughts in his head. He knew Steve would never hit you with full-force, however, and made himself to stay put.

"Rogers, I swear one of these days, I'm going to kick your ass," you groaned.

He laughed again, and you took the opportunity to exploit his distraction, using your position on the floor to knock his feet out from under him with surprising force. Your kicked his shins sharply, sending him on his knees, and lunged for him.

You had him on his back for once, finally, and you grinned triumphantly at Bucky. He was mildly perturbed at your position, semi-straddling Steve, but he managed to crack a smile.

Steve finally called it a day half an hour later, leaving you and Bucky alone in the room. You were humming to yourself, stretching out your limbs. Bucky didn’t miss the way you winced slightly.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked, tossing you a bottle of water.

“A little, but it’s alright,” you shrugged. You took a sip, eyes sliding over to his form. He was looking particularly handsome today in a pair of form fitting black jeans, heavy boots and his leather jacket zipped up around his torso.

God, this man could be wearing a garbage bag and you would be drooling. From the first day you met him, you had developed a crush on him, hooked by his ruggedly handsome looks and tough exterior. What really made you fall, however, was that surprisingly soft personality hidden underneath. He made you laugh, too, and you loved the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled at you. Bucky had easily stolen your heart.

Said heart was continuously fluttering nowadays whenever you were near him, like he was a silly teenage crush. You tried to play it cool.

“So, any tips?”

Soon, you were both grappling at each other playfully, peals of laughter leaving your mouth as you “fought”. Bucky was smiling that darn smile, looking almost childlike as you circled each other.

At some point you ended up on top of him, your hands around his wrists as you pinned them back. He could easily free himself, but he humored you.

“Hah!” you called out.

Bucky’s laughter subsided slowly as he took in the sight of you, panting on top of him. His eyes inadvertently fell to your cleavage, where the swell of your breasts was oh-so-visible from his vantage point, your skimpy tank top doing little to hide your skin.

Mortified, he felt a rush of blood to his groin. He knocked you off swiftly before you could feel anything which would reveal what a pervert he was, coughing loudly to hide his embarassment.

“That’s enough,” he said, surprising you with a change of tone. You felt a little disheartened at the switch-up, confusion settling in.

“Ah, okay,” you said, nodding. He was probably getting tired of your games, knowing how you didn’t like to take everything too seriously. Bucky mumbled something about going to take a shower before he excused himself and left.

Being an Avenger was always going to be life threatening. However, you could think of nothing else you'd rather be doing than fighting alongside your chosen family, trying to make your contribution to the world, even if it meant risking yourself.

You usually considered yourself a solid team player, trusting Steve to make the right call out on the field. Now, you weren't so sure, faintly aware that maybe, just maybe, you had screwed up. Especially in situations like these, lying on concrete with your ears ringing, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

Smoke and dust filled your sight. Your mind was scrambled, unable to comprehend what had happened. You couldn't see a thing, but you could feel the pain in your shoulder, and you wondered if you had dislocated it or worse.

The smoke cleared. All of a sudden, Bucky's face appeared, panic clearly written in his eyes.

The pieces were slowly coming together. You suddenly became aware that Steve was lying behind you, shield in hand and positioned above you. You could hear him groaning in mild discomfort. The clanging in your ears were subsiding so you could hear him and Bucky's shouting.

Your disorientation faded, and you realized what had happened. The explosion.

Four S.H.I.E.L.D agents had gone rogue and had secretly been working for HYDRA, who had been spending the past year regaining power and presence. You had been one of the people dispatched to take them down after the team received intel on the location of their base. They had been holed up in an underground bunker beneath an abandoned warehouse, the perfect spot for a group like them.

You weren't even supposed to be in that part of the bunker, but you saw an opportunity to breach their control room, where undoubtedly you would be able to find all sorts of valuable information about what HYDRA was planning, or what terrible projects they had ongoing. Unfortunately, they had been savvier than you thought, and had implemented a safeguard in the event of a security breach.

That safeguard, as it turned out, was explosives.

Steve had found you as soon as he was made aware of what you were doing, and he had appeared no more than 15 seconds before the bombs detonated. If he hadn't been around, you were almost certain you'd be dead.

You barely had time to register Steve's appearance before you suddenly found yourself flying off your feet, Steve a blur of blue as he re-positioned himself to protect you.

"...fuck, will you say something? Are you okay?"

Bucky was screaming in your ear, and you blinked, the haze finally clearing. Alarms were blaring, Steve was back on his feet, scooping you up with ease.

"We need to get back to the Quinjet," you heard Steve bark, and he began sprinting, jumping over rubble with you in his arms, Bucky following close behind.

As soon as you boarded the jet, Steve sat you down and ordered Bucky to tend to you. He was already kneeling at your feet and inspecting your injuries wordlessly. Steve swiftly geared the Quinjet to life, desperate to get them out of the area before anything else went to hell.

"Look at me," Bucky said sharply, his voice rough. You were startled at his tone, his hands brushing your hair back as he inspected your head for any serious injuries. Blood was trickling from your temples, but from what he could tell, they were only shallow cuts. "Where does it hurt?"

"I'm fine," you managed to say faintly, the reality of what had happened slowly sinking in. You had put all of them in danger because of your reckless actions, and Steve had actually been injured because of you. You could see the blood dripping off his fingers as he sat at the console, though from the way he handled himself you knew they could only be minor lacerations.

Your eyes landed on Bucky's face then, scanning him for any signs of injury. He seemed physically unharmed, but his face was bright red and he was shaking with rage as he spoke to you. You were ashamed, knowing that he was furious you put his best friend in danger.

“I told you to stay put,” Bucky snarled, slamming his hand against the back of your seat.

"I - I know," you stuttered, vaguely remembering Bucky's request in your earpiece just moments earlier.

“Why couldn't you just listen? You had to play the fucking hero?"

"Bucky, lay off of her." Steve's warning was stern, and Bucky shot a glare at the back of his head.

"No. She was being stupid," he spat, looking back at you. "What were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?"

You bristled then, despising his patronizing tone. “You’re one to talk. How many times have you completely gone off script and blindsided us with your decisions?” As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew it was an unfair statement.

He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't think you realize what could have happened back there."

You looked at Steve again, guilt consuming you. He was focused on operating the jet, and you knew that he hadn't been seriously hurt, but he could have been. Or, worse, Bucky could have been caught in the explosion. He was lucky not to have been there.

"I'm sorry," you began, but Bucky cut you off.

"You need to take this fucking seriously," he snarled. "You went marching in there blindly, and look what happened."

"I thought I might be able to get something useful," you said weakly.

"Look how well that turned out," he said sarcastically. "You blew everything up."

You recoiled, hurt. You wondered if Bucky was actually upset that you had destroyed a valuable chance to get information on HYDRA. Though how were you supposed to know extracting the information would set off literal bombs? You had been acting quickly, wanting to get in and out. Maybe Bucky blamed you for destroying that chance.

"You can be so fucking stupid and selfish," Bucky exclaimed angrily, lashing out in full force. So reckless, doing whatever you wanted to do, without so much as a thought to how much potential harm you could be putting yourself in.

"That's enough," Steve shouted loudly, his voice angry and booming.

You flinched visibly, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from snapping back. Or worse, crying. Bucky walked over to the other side of the jet, away from you.

The feeling was awful. Your shoulder was burning, throat in pain from the smoke you had inhaled, and all Bucky had done was shout. It was surprising, how much your feelings hurt at his outburst.

Bucky was as tense as a statue. His mind was racing as he refused to look at you, thinking of all the worst possibilities. His heart felt as if it had literally skipped a beat the moment he saw you lying in the rubble, seconds after he'd heard the explosion and realized he could no longer hear you in his earpiece - there was a chilling moment amidst the action where he really, genuinely believed you had been killed.

Having you act so blasé about it after the fact infuriated him.

You, on the other hand, felt a heavy weight in your chest as you watched Bucky mutter to himself, the muscle in his jaw twitching. You felt so guilty, feeling so...incapable in Steve and Bucky's presence. Steve had been hurt because of you, and Bucky had every right to be mad at you. Nonetheless, his words cut you deeply.

Stupid and selfish.

The rest of the journey back to the compound was tense and silent. Bucky stared at the wall whilst you stared at the ground. As soon as the jet landed, Bucky stood up with full intention of hoisting you up against his chest to take you to the medical wing, but found Steve standing between you and him instead. Like a barrier, as if he wanted to protect you from Bucky's wrath.

"Let's get you checked out," Steve grunted, his arm once again around your damn waist as you stood.

Even though it was neither the place nor the time, jealously instinctively entered Bucky's bloodstream at the way you leaned on Steve. He wanted to be the one to take care of you, dammit, but all he had achieved was make you avoid his stare.

"Get her head checked out whilst you're at it," Bucky barked. "See if you can find out why she lost all her fucking common sense."

Tears sprang to your eyes when Bucky stormed off the jet, heading into the compound first. It hurt you more than you cared to admit that he hadn't even stayed to see if you were alright.

"He didn't mean that," Steve said quietly.

"He did," you retorted, wincing in pain as you experimentally moved your shoulder. "Shit."

"You alright?"

"Dislocated, I think."

Steve helped you to the medical wing, where you were promptly checked and - yep, dislocated shoulder. No other injuries though, thanks to Steve.

"You saved my life," you said gratefully as Steve stood beside you, wiping dried blood from his hands and face. "Thank you. I'm sorry, as well."

Steve's face was kind yet stern as he moved to stand in front of you. "No need to thank me. But yeah, the way you behaved was kind of reckless."

"I know."

He placed a heavy hand on your good shoulder, squeezing gently. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Do you think Bucky hates me?" you asked suddenly, looking up at Steve searchingly. "You know him best. Do you think he hates me now?"

Steve sighed loudly in a way that planted doubt in your mind despite his answer. "No, of course he doesn't hate you."

"I think he's at least annoyed that I risked your life," you mumbled.

"Okay, first of all, I've been in so many explosions that it's just a regular day at the office, now," Steve said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Secondly, I think he's just annoyed that you risked your life."

You were dubious, thinking that Steve was just trying to placate you. You recalled how Bucky had glared at you before. If he actually cared, surely he wouldn't have just stalked off like that?

“I think my safety was the last thing on his mind.”

"Get some rest," Steve repeated. "Stop overthinking."

You nodded unconvincingly, all while your thoughts continued to be plagued by a certain dark haired, blue eyed man.

"She okay?" Bucky asked Steve the moment he saw him in the hallway just off the medical wing.

"You could ask her yourself, you know," he said, cocking an eyebrow. When Bucky didn't respond, he offered, "Dislocated her shoulder. Few cuts and bruised ribs. Otherwise, she's fine."

Bucky felt himself let go of a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He had inspected you pretty closely on the jet and was sure you had been fine, though he was annoyed he didn't realize your shoulder was hurt, however part of him was still fearful. To hear Steve confirm that you were mostly fine was a relief.

"Good," Bucky said brusquely. Steve tilted his head at him, observing his best friend with judgmental eyes. The silence between them spoke volumes. “Shut up," Bucky added.

Your shoulder had been easily maneuvered back into place, though you were confined into a sling and would be for the next few weeks, rendering you useless on the field. That, combined with the gnawing guilt of putting Bucky and Steve in danger, dampened your usually upbeat self.

After being discharged from the medical wing, you had retired to your bedroom and stayed there for the rest of the day. A few mornings later, you left your bedroom at the crack of dawn, startled to see Bucky already making breakfast in the kitchen.

"Oh. Hey," you said meekly, clearing your throat as you made your way to the coffee machine.

He had dark circles under his eyes, and you wondered if he had slept at all. His hair was disheveled, like he had been running his fingers through it, and he had stubble all across his sharp jawline.

Things were weird now after his tirade at you. You considered the two of you to be friends - very good friends, actually. In fact, you would be lying if you said you didn't have a deep-rooted hope that you might become more than friends. But, after Bucky's explosive verbal attack on you, you felt so small standing in front of him. You had avoided him for the past couple of days, afraid of any potential confrontation.

He thinks you’re stupid and selfish, you reminded yourself. Each time his words replayed in your mind, a fresh wave of pain hit you. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about how harsh he’d been for the past few nights whilst in bed, tears slipping down your face and onto your pillow as you tried to sleep.

Your gut twisted in discomfort. You liked Bucky so much, and his admonishing had crushed you somewhat. You wanted him to respect you, didn't want to disappoint him, but you had achieved the opposite.

You turned your back on him and poured yourself a coffee, knowing that if you looked at him for too long, you might start crying. His face was one that you used to love looking at, loved how affectionate he was when he spoke to you, but now you were just scared. You didn’t think you could take it if he snapped at you again.

"Are you okay?" He broke the silence first, and you wondered if he actually genuinely cared about the answer. You really weren’t sure anymore.

"I'm fine," you said, nodding and moving over to the pantry to try and find something to eat. You stretched up to the shelves with your good arm, fingers curling over a bag of croissants but not quite being able to reach.

You felt his presence behind you, his chest pressing against your back softly as he took the pastries down for you, setting them down on the counter.

Bucky watched when you stiffened slightly, and felt a heavy twinge of regret at how he had spoken to you that day. He was already feeling like an ass about it, but now he wondered if you were somehow frightened of him. He knew that he had crossed a line, said some pretty nasty things.

He stepped away from you, clearing his throat loudly to catch your attention. When you half-turned to face him, he spoke.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said the other day. It was out of line."

He could only see your profile as you bit down on your lower lip, shrugging as if to say no big deal. From the way your eyes were darting about, Bucky could tell you were holding back on your emotions. "It's okay. You were right."

Bucky frowned, watching as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. "What do you mean?"

"What I did was stupid and selfish," you said, your voice quivering. Bucky's lips pressed into a thin line as you continued. "I wasn't thinking, and I put both of you in danger. I'm sorry. You have every right to be angry at me."

Realization hit Bucky like a freight train.

"Hey," he said gently, approaching you again, his hand awkwardly curling around your wrist. He could see your eyes beginning to well up. "Don't get upset." He tilted his head at you, trying to coax you to look at him.

"I'm not," you sniffed, blinking hard in an attempt to rid yourself of your budding tears.

"When I said you were stupid and selfish," Bucky winced at those adjectives now, "I meant I just felt you were stupid to put yourself in danger, and selfish because - well, you didn't even think about what it would do to me."

Your brow furrowed at Bucky's rushed explanation, looking up at him quizically. Your eyes were still glistening, and his heart ached.

"I don't understand."

Bucky made a slightly frustrated noise, releasing your wrist. He planted his hands on the kitchen counter instead, trapping you, your lower back pressed against the marble edge. He sighed loudly, making you swallow nervously.

"Bucky?"

"I care about you," he began, suddenly unable to articulate himself properly as he looked into your eyes. “A lot. As in, a lot."

"Oh-kay..." The syllables were long and drawn out. You were still nonplussed.

"No, you don't get it," Bucky said through gritted teeth. He cast his mind back to the events in the bunker, that same fear creeping into his system. "There was a second where I heard the blast, and I thought you were done for. I was terrified."

Bucky leaned closer, so close that his forehead was almost resting on yours. His eyes fluttered closed. It was easier if he didn’t look at you to voice his feelings.

"There was a very real moment where I thought I lost you, and it was horrible." The unspoken meaning hung in the air. I can't live without you.

His confession made your heart rise in your chest with surprise and disbelief.

"Oh, Bucky." The way you spoke his name made him want to hold you tight. "I had no idea you cared so much," you said softly.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, and they were anguished. "That's the problem. I'm so scared of showing you my feelings that you had no idea I care about you more than anything." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't know what I was so afraid of. The idea of you being hurt is infinitely more terrifying than telling you how much I really like you."

“I - really?” His words were black and white, but you were afraid to truly believe them.

“Did you know,” Bucky began, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles against your cheekbone, “how much I want to protect you? Keep you from harm? At first, I didn’t understand it, but then I realized that I was falling for you.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been so long since I felt anything like that for anyone, that I barely recognized what it was.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down his nerves. He knew he had to tell you how he felt. The way you were gazing at him now in pure adoration was motivation enough.

“I want to be with you, as more than friends.” He let out a soft huff of laughter, like he was amused it had taken him so long to admit something so simple.

You lifted your hand to cup the back of his neck, feeling a renewed confidence and sense of happiness at his words.

“I should have told you long ago how much I like you, too,” you whispered. Bucky's chest swelled in happiness at your admission.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" he asked quietly, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

Your reply was to stand on your tip-toes so you could meet his mouth in a kiss, finally doing what you had wanted to do since the moment you met him.

4K notes · View notes

antisocialwritingx · 1 year

Text

bound

Bucky Barnes x cis female!reader

word count: ~1.4k

summary: bucky and Y/N have been dating for a while now and bucky feels safe enough to tell you about a fantasy he has.

warnings: smut with basically no plot, bondage with silk rope, stoplight system, hand job, pet names (baby boy, good boy, princess), swallowing semen, implied sex, gentle femdom!reader, size kink if you squint, let me know if I missed anything!

note: i had a bit too much fun writing this. also, your likes, comments, and reblogs mean the world to me.

MINORS, do NOT interact! 18+ ONLY! do something else, pls

Moments like this were a slice of heaven to you. After years of being friends with Bucky, everything fell into place once you two started dating. It's been a lazy day as you and Bucky both relax on the couch. With your head in his lap, he plays your hair as you scroll on your phone. As you lay there, you notice his movements slow down. Unexpectedly his hand stops moving, and you look up to see Bucky mindlessly staring at the empty TV screen. He’s completely absorbed by his thoughts. You wait a moment before gently calling his name.

“Bucky,” your voice brings him back to reality. For a moment, he looks shocked before he looks down at you and smiles.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs and wiggles beneath your head. He begins stroking your hair again.

“What were you thinking about, bubba?” you ask, still observing him.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he quickly says. Too quick for it to be believable.

“C’mon, you can tell you anything,” you say, sitting up and turning to face him. He lets out a dry laugh and readjusts himself on the couch. Whatever he’s thinking is making him tense, so in an effort to cheer him up, you joke,

“I’m sure it can’t be as bad as Sam telling me he actually thought humans existed while dinosaurs roamed the earth,” Bucky lets out a genuine laugh. The cute laugh that lights you up inside.

“No, no, it’s not that,” he chuckles and turns towards you, letting out an unsteady sigh.

“I thought we could try something,” he suggests, to which you raise your eyebrows curiously, encouraging him to continue.

“Like, uh, bondage,” he pauses, then mutters, “on me.” His admission causes a wicked smile to form across your face. The idea of someone as strong and burly as Bucky being tied down for their own pleasure makes your heart pound. He just nervously smiles, waiting for you to say anything.

“I think that’s a good idea, bubba.”

“You do?”

“Of course, it’ll be fun. I’ll go get some rope,” you say, hopping up from the couch.

"Oh, now?" he asks, shocked. Bucky’s head is spinning at your eagerness. The anxiety dissipates from his body and is replaced with excitement. His cock springs to life, tenting in his pants as he waits for you to return.

Meanwhile, you change into a lingerie set you know Bucky loves. Grabbing the silk rope you two have used many times before, only on you, and a bottle of lube, you walk back into the living room. As you walk back into the room, Bucky can't tear his eyes away from you. His cock strains against his restrictive pants.

“Baby,” he huffs, his mouth agape as he studies you, practically drooling. You smirk and slowly walk toward him. standing in front of him, you gently guide his legs apart and place soft kisses against his lips, then along his jawline and down his neck. Bucky lets out light breaths and shuts his eyes at the feeling.

You slip his shirt off, pull down his pants, and palm him through his briefs. If you usually tease Bucky like this, he shows you who’s truly in charge and rails you into the bed. You now have complete control over him. The power you have ignites a hunger, making you soaking wet. You pull down his briefs, freeing his swollen cock, which rests against his defined abs. Grabbing his hands, you lay them against his thighs and bind his wrists to his thighs. Your tender touch on Bucky’s skin set his body on fire. The anticipation swells inside of him. His cock twitches, dying to be touched. Once he’s securely tied down, you sit next to him on the couch and kiss his neck. Giving Bucky a mixture of delicate kisses and fierce hickies, tantalizing him. As you do, he lifts his hips, searching for any contact.

“Color, baby boy?”

“Green,” he breathes out, leaning into your body. You reach for the lube you set on the coffee table in front of the two of you. Bucky thinks you’re reaching for his length and whines in protest when you reach right past him. Grinning at his cute desperation, you grab the lube and settle back next to Bucky. He watches you intently. His eyes are begging you to touch him. You pump some lube onto your hand and, from your hand, let the lube drip onto his cockhead. Bucky’s breathing gets shallow. Lightly, you swirl the drops of lube around his cockhead, and he shifts beneath your touch, aching for more friction. Finally, you wrap your hand around Bucky’s cock. His sultry moan is like music to your ears. You slowly pump his cock, twisting your hand around his length. The lube makes it easy to slide your hand down and massage his balls before stroking his cock again. Bucky leans into your neck, panting and moaning at your touch. Everything about this is turning you on. Knowing Bucky could easily break out of the restraints but chooses to submit to you makes your folds drip.

“Good boy,” you purr in Bucky’s ear. He lifts his head to look at you, and you run your tongue over his lips before nipping his bottom lip. Bucky tries kissing you, but you scoot, so you’re just out of reach. He can only brush his lips against yours and breathe in your air. The desperation he feels to kiss you and the delectable feeling of you stroking his cock makes him dizzy.

“Feels so good,” he whimpers. You move closer, and Bucky hungrily kisses you. Your tongues roll over one another while you speed up your hand. Bucky’s leg shudders as your kisses swallow his moans. His toned chest heaves and flexes as the pleasure radiates through him. Enjoying his blissed-out look, you unconsciously begin gridding down on the couch. Feeling this much pleasure, Bucky can’t focus on kissing you anymore. He is fully consumed by your hand working his length. Teasing him, you slow your hand down and lift your hand off his cock after every stroke. His mouth hangs open as his body tremors.

“Color?”

“Green. Fucking green,” he rasps against your neck. Needy whines and heavy pants echo in the room. He bucks his hips and gets himself off your hand in desperation. Keeping still, you let him thrust himself in your hand.

“That’s right, just like that,” you say, entranced by his sweaty, disheveled look. When Bucky hears your words, he melts. Any composure he had left is now gone as he shamelessly chases his climax. His body tenses and convulses as his big hands strain to reach for his weeping cock. You use both hands to stroke his full length as he continues to rut into your hands.

“Baby, f- FUCK! Please, let me come, please,” he cries out, quivering.

“Come for me, baby boy,” you coo. Speeding up your hand, you pump his slippery cock and cup his full balls. His grunts get louder, and his hips begin to stutter as his body writhes under your touch. Giving it everything he has, he fucks into your hands. With one last plunge, he climaxes. Throwing his head back, he chokes out moans along with your name. He paints his chest in his hot seed. Your hands linger on his length, slowly pumping him. His chest heaves as he exhales heavily. Feeling sensitive, he jerks his hips away from your hands and laughs lightly,

“Okay, okay.” Removing your hands, you look at him. He lazily smiles at you, in ecstasy.

“You did so good today, baby boy,” you say, getting up from the couch and bending down in front of him. You take a moment to caress his thighs and kiss his chest. The feeling of your tongue on his skin makes his head shoot up. He finds a beautiful sight of you licking his seed from his chest, your eyes locked with his icy blue ones.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so sexy,” he breathes out. His hardening cock twitches beneath you. You giggle at his reaction and give him an affectionate kiss.

“This was fun, bubba. We should do that more often,” you say as you untie him. As soon as both hands are free, Bucky pulls you on top of him.

“We should, princess, but I’m going to take care of you right now. I can smell that sweet cunt is soaked for me.” He grins, picking you up by your thighs and carrying you to your bedroom. Giggling, you swing the door shut behind you. At least you could enjoy being in control while it lasted.

★・・・・・・・・・・・★

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

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𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 | 𝐉.𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ☼ Farmer!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Word Count ☼ 650 Warnings ☼ Fluff, pet names, established relationship, implied spice Author's Note ☼ I am uploading this on an anniversary of a pretty traumatic event in my life, and I am using it as a reminder that it can be a good day, and to remind myself that things can be happy and full of good memories, too. Part of @the-slumberparty's week 4 moodboard challenge - I got Farmer Aesthetic.

Slumberparty Masterlist

𝑭𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑬𝑹 : ̗̀➛ a person who owns or manages a farm.

Returning home to your husband after a long day was always a blessing you were grateful for, even when he was an insatiable menace; for home is where your heart was, and your heart was always with him.

The sound of the countryside had always soothed you. The lows of the cows that scattered themselves around the fields, the bleating of herds of sheep while sheep dogs circled and herded them home; horses would often follow your truck down your driveway, too, but not today.

It had been pleasantly busy down at the farmer’s market. People from all walks of life had flocked to your stall to get the best picks from your fresh produce – your most popular item on offer by far were your peaches, and the beautiful, sweet homemade jam made from them. The jars lining the table had disappeared quicker than you could stock them.

Dust clouded your view from the rear-view mirror as you turned towards the farmhouse, and you sighed heavily with relief when you saw Colton standing by the steps. The stallion was watching your truck approach with bright, curious eyes, but he was still geared to the nines in working tack.

You pulled your truck into its spot and killed the engine. The warmth of the air as you opened the door made you feel at home.

“There she is!” A voice called, and you looked over just in time to see Bucky walking out the door of your home, smiling widely, his hair mussed, and shirtless. “How’s my girl? How was the market?”

“Hey, Buck,” you said while you stared unabashedly at your husband. Bucky had evidently been working hard out in the fields with the cattle–and you thanked whoever had blessed the earth with the perfectly placed rays from the setting sun. “It was good. Busy, as usual.”

Bucky smiled happily and made his way over, pulling you into a tight hug and lifting you up so your feet left the ground for a second. “Missed you, Peach,” he murmured against your hair before kissing your temple.

“Missed you too,” you hummed, a sigh of contentment leaving you. “How are Bessie and Bubba?”

The two calves had lost their mother a few weeks ago, and you had taken it upon yourself to care for them, with the help of the heifers that tolerated your company, and, of course, your meddling husband.

“They’re good, dramatic and loud as ever,” Bucky replied. He grabbed your hand and led you towards Colton. “I just have to finish up out here and I’ll be inside.”

Colton, the ever sturdy and calm stallion, was nosing at the kittens lounging on the porch, all the while ignoring the dogs bounding around his feet. “Mac, Lilo, enough,” Bucky called, and the dogs hastened to obey, tongues lolling when they settled at Colton’s hooves.

“They don’t call us a farm for nothing,” you mused, and Bucky chuckled.

The hat resting on Colton’s saddle lifted with Bucky’s grip, and was placed on your head–the snug fit, but perfect. “Y’know what they say, Peach, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes and reached past Bucky to pet Colton’s neck. “I do, you horndog. Now go finish up so we can have dinner.”

Bucky saluted and started his trek to the barn a little way from the house, whistling to call Mac, Lilo, and Colton. “Here, c’mon. Bed time.” You were a ways up the steps to your front door when Bucky’s boots suddenly scuffed the dirt, like he had turned around to look at you, and he shouted, “You’ll be my desert, right?”

“Move your ass and I’ll consider it!”

You laughed heartily while Bucky made a show of turning on the spot and jogging towards the barn, his hair flowing freely with the quick pace. “C’mon guys, get a move on!”

Your heart swelled as you watched them all rush to the barn, Bucky’s laugh carrying towards the house to envelop you like a warm blanket on a freezing night. The house the two of you had built suddenly felt all the more like a home than ever before.

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

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Make Me Forget | ❤️Valentine’s Day One Shot

Pairing: Beefy Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 6k

Summary: Unceremoniously dumped by your scumbag boyfriend Bucky's mission is to spend Valentine's Day cheering you up & showing you what it would belike to be Bucky Barnes's girl, maybe he's shooting his shot, maybe he's just that darn charming Warnings: Angst (just the start), Fluffy Bucky, Swearing, Smut, NSFW, P in V, Oral (Female), unprotected sex, Dom Bucky

A/N: Happy Valentine's, enjoy this one shot with Beefy Bucky, I thought this would be a nice intermission for the Valentine's Season. Also FYI, no STD's or unplanned pregnancies (unless a plot) in my multiverse so no condoms are ever used. As per usual I cannot keep my word count concise!!

Dumped, discarded, cast aside, kicked to the curb, whatever you wanted to call it, you were it & you were sat in a restaurant trying to hold it together whilst the humiliation of being brought into a public space to be told you’re not good enough, not special enough, not pretty enough, not her was being laid out in black & white. You could feel your lip wobbling, the familiar sob climbing up your throat trying to escape as you begged yourself to cut off all emotions until you could get back home.

You nodded along hoping he would stop the character assassination that was effortlessly rattling off, like he had been practicing it for weeks in the mirror. You thought you had been happy together & that he was getting ready to ask you to move in with him, but you were told you were dumb to not see how miserable you made him. There was only so much you could take & when he mentioned her, his 22-year-old secretary he had been sleeping with for weeks, who just ‘got him’, you stood up, tossed your drink over his head & walked out.

The cab ride home was a battle of wills between your absolute need to keep it together at all times versus your impending emotional outburst with the growing realisation that you were destined to die alone & get eaten by the 15 cats you would inevitably accumulate being single for the rest of your life.

The rest of your night was spent isolated, crying, eating pizza, drinking wine & browsing cat rescue sites trying to find the first step towards the rest of your life, you couldn’t believe you wasted a year of your life with a scumbag who would dump you the day before Valentine’s day.

You should have phoned in sick, there was no way you were in the mood to face anyone, even if Tony would have wrongly assumed it was because it was Valentine’s Day & you would be too busy fucking your boyfriend all day to work, except the reality would be you crying, burning your Ex-Boyfriends belongings & self-reflecting to assess what was actually wrong with you & why couldn’t you keep a man interested.

Instead, you were numb, sat zoned out in the meeting room by your boss’ side trying to look like you were paying attention, you were barely holding it together avoiding all eye contact with the team filled with spies & assassins, at least two of them would be able to spot the obvious tells that not all was well.

‘Alright, any other business.’

Sam repeatedly elbowing Bucky who ignored him completely perked up, ‘Yeah, these monthly meetings suck, it’s Valentine’s day, why we even working?’

‘Make sure you note down that sass from Bird Man, Short Stack.’

Apart from Tony’s very annoying nickname, you hadn’t heard what had been said, hoping that it was never brought up again you scribbled down ‘I want to go home’ so it looked as though you were at least doing something.

Bucky had already noticed the sullen expression the second he laid eyes on you, the heavier than usual makeup & overall lack of spunk you usually have was a dead giveaway. Sam may have told him not to use that phrase anymore, for reasons still unclear to him but that was the best way to describe it, it was like your light had gone out.

Usually when Tony used that moniker you’d be ready with a jibe to throw straight back at him, he may have been your boss, but you weren’t ever afraid to put the billionaire in his place, so you completely passing over the nickname meant you were somewhere else in your head & not ok, something was wrong & he needed to get to the bottom of it.

You held back in the meeting room until all the superheroes had piled out to try & avoid any interactions, unfortunately a certain burly super soldier didn’t quite get the memo & was waiting for you outside. The brunette’s face completely serious, brows furrowed & arms crossed as he examined you walking towards him, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s wrong Bucky, I’m fine.’ You tried a half assed smile; a smile you wouldn’t even be able to convince Ethel your blind neighbour was real let alone the trained assassin in front of you.

‘Don’t you dare lie to me Petal, you may be able to fool them but not me. Now tell me what happened, I won’t ask again, did something happen at dinner last night?’

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like when Bucky used his serious voice, when the Sargent in him came out, you always followed his orders.

Breathing out a shaky sigh you looked around, as if anyone cared enough to listen in on what you were about to say, damn your bottom lip for wobbling & the tears gathering in your eyes, traitor. ‘He broke up with me, said he was sleeping with his secretary & I wasn’t pretty or good enough for him.’

Somehow Bucky managed to quell the internal rage that was flowing through the synaptic’s in his brain, the plates in his arm were begging to be recalibrated from the tension running through his body, don’t trigger a reset, don’t trigger a reset. He could taste the impending murder on his tongue but that had to wait, he needed to be the mechanical shoulder for you to cry on right now.

He grabbed you, enclosing you entirely in his arms, his overwhelming warmth thawing your cold exterior & his big arms squeezing you tightly, it was the exact comfort you needed. ‘Oh darlin’, why didn’t you call me?’

Smushed against his solid chest your voice was muffled, ‘Didn’t want to bother ya.’

‘You know you wouldn’t have.’

You managed a shrug against him, ‘It’s Valentine’s you might have had plans.’

He moved his vibranium arm from around you, holding your face with his cool metallic hand to make sure you were looking at him, brushing the few fallen tears from your cheeks, ‘There are no plans too important to stop me coming & getting you.’

You managed a genuine half smile, the cloud over you not quite lifting, but it was now surrounded by a little Bucky Barnes shaped rainbow & you appreciated it more than you could ever convey to him.

Bucky sat pensively in the lounge, despite his protests that you should take the day off, he walked you to your office at your insistence that working would help keep your mind of him, he secretly enjoyed the way you now said him, it was very much in the same tone he had been using for the last year.

So, he had been sitting since racking his brains, trying to think of ways to help you, to build you back up & forget about that loser & in the Super Soldier’s mind he was the biggest most idiotic loser on the face of the planet to let you go so willingly. Chump.

Tony strolled into the common area noticing the absolute anguish on the centurion’s face staring into space, ‘What’s up terminator?’

He rubbed his face trying to reset his mind & entertain a conversation with Tony, ‘Nothing, just thinking.’

‘Wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with my diminutive 2nd in command who has been on 4 separate trips to the bathroom to cry this morning … so far.’ He stood crossing his arms, hoping to get to the bottom of it & thought Bucky would be the one you opened up to, because the pathetic excuse you gave him for being so sniffly wasn’t cutting it & you usually had the 6ft Super Solider shadow following you everywhere.

He clenched his jaw at the belittling nickname Tony seemed to revel in, ‘Stop calling her little, she doesn’t like it.’

He narrowed his eyes, ‘Bit touchy when it comes to her, aren’t you? You like her?’

Bucky shook his head angry that he was poking his nose in where it didn’t belong, ‘Not the time Tony.’

‘Why not?’

‘Not your business.’

‘Let’s see, protective bodyguard mode has been activated, weepy crying employee on Valentine’s Day, I take it that snake she was wasting her time with has shown his true colours?’

Bucky let out an audible sigh, ‘Something like that.’

‘What a dick.’ He clenched his jaw, already ordering you some flowers on his phone, a smirk crossed his face & he glanced back up at the sulking Super Soldier. ‘Hey, now she’s single, you should shoot your shot.’

To Bucky the billionaire just casually let out, like it was nothing, an afterthought, like it was completely normal to pounce on someone 12 hours after being blindsided by a breakup. ‘Absolutely not, she needs comfort & cheering up, not a 107-year-old hitting on her.’

In Tony’s mind, the stars were finally aligning for two people who anyone could see looked at each other with love hearts in their eyes most of the time to finally get together, they just needed a push. ‘Trust me when I say she wouldn’t mind a certain 107-year old’s attention.’

‘Steve?’

‘Jesus I’m surrounded by idiots, not Steve, you, you complete putz’

The super solider was trying to stifle his smile at the thought of you being into him but failing miserably, shaking his head in protest, ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Well, I so happen to know so. I’m not saying declare your undying love for her & propose, just shoot your shot, take her mind off the breakup & whatever he did, make her see that you’re the one she should be with.’

Just like that, like it was a piece of cake, easy as 1,2,3, he swore sometimes he was secretly dumb & not a so-called genius everyone said he was, it took Bucky 3 months to say hello to you when he first met you, so by his calculations he would be asking you out in 2054.

‘He cheated for weeks with his secretary & said she wasn’t pretty enough or good enough for him.’ The words pained him to say out loud, he couldn’t imagine how hurtful they were for you to hear.

The billionaire’s eyes went wide, ‘Excuse me, how are you not murdering him right now?’

‘Oh, trust me a plan is percolating, but I wanted to make sure she was ok before I spend the rest of my life in prison for repeatedly throwing him off the empire state building.’

‘Oh, I like the sound of repeatedly. Ok, new plan, you spend the day tending to her, sweep her off her feet, get her out of her office … but not into your bed & I’ll pay him a visit, can’t promise murder but I’m sure I have a few gadgets that will put the fear of Thor in him.’

You were sat sulking in your office, not really working, just staring at words on a screen, you didn’t want to be at work, but you didn’t want to be at home either, despite the bonfire you had planned in your head with his expensive suits he kept in your walk in, which admittedly did sound like fun.

A gentle knock & a wiggle of the handle told you it was Bucky waiting outside your office, you buzzed him in & as the door opened all you could see were flowers, a huge bunch that somehow eclipsed the Super Solider stood in the doorway holding them.

It was comical watching him struggle, trying his best not to knock any of the perfect blooms on his way in, you wondered how he could be so agile on the battlefield when he was such a clutz off it at times, adorable really when you thought about it.

‘How can I help you soldier?’

He used to hate people referring to him by his military positions but whenever you did it there was something in him that went feral, it felt like you were submitting to him & you were always such a good girl when he told you to do something in his lower pitched voice.

The twitch in his pants at the thought of what that would translate to in the bedroom needed taming before he embarrassed himself, it might not be the 40s anymore but by god if punching a colleague for humming too loudly got him a meeting in HR, getting a boner in front of one in a professional setting definitely would.

‘Well, it’s Valentine’s Day & I wanted to buy you some flowers & put a smile on your face.’

‘Mission success Sargent.’ You really did have a wide smile on your face from the sweet gesture, he was such a good guy, sometimes you wish everyone could see it but a little part of you were happy it seemed to be reserved for only you.

‘Oh this, this is just the start, my Girl on Valentine’s Day doesn’t just get flowers, she gets the whole day.’

You raised your brows, trying your absolute best to not grin like the Cheshire Cat at him calling you his girl, ‘A whole day huh? Lucky me. Not to throw a spanner in the works here but ya girl gotta work.’

‘No you don’t, cleared it with Tony so you’ve got the rest of the day off.’ He looked so happy with himself & you really didn’t understand why the hunk of a man in front of you had a reputation for being frightening, the man was a big teddy bear.

It had been an interesting journey to say the least, experiencing Bucky’s vintage car with the top down sounded so much fun, especially when he pulled you close & had his arm around you but the way your hair lashed about in the wind made you realise why the women in the old movies always had head scarves on. At one-point Bucky’s eyes were streaming when a particular gust of wind whipped him in the eye with a chunk of your hair, no number of apologies you gave seemed enough & thankfully he just seemed to find it funny.

Once you tamed the bird’s nest sat on top of your head you stood in excitement looking on the fairground that had been at the heart of so many of Steve & Bucky’s stories, Coney Island where dreams where not quite made of but that didn’t matter, you loved it.

‘It doesn’t exactly look the same but I’m sure we’ll find our way around just fine.’ Bucky was practically giddy, pulling your connected hand towards the entrance, ‘you know me & Steve once rode the Ferris wheel with these two dames, Sandy & Delores I think their names were, & Steve freaked out because it was so high up & threw up on his date.’

You always noticed his accent thickened when he talked about his youth, seeing him like this made you wish you had known him back then, but having heard many stories about Bucky from Steve, he would probably have been chasing tail rather than wasting his time hanging about with you

He led you to a food shack that, according to the sign, served New York’s best hot dogs, ‘whaddya say Doll, one hotdog or two?’

‘One please, with onions & mustard.’

‘Coming up, what my girl wants, my girl gets.’

You sat on the bench whilst he waited for your order, the day certainly had taken a turn & you were beyond grateful for Bucky, he really was the sweetest guy you knew so it didn’t even shock you with how extra he was being in an effort to take your mind off things.

You realised as he approached, carrying way more hot dogs than any normal human could eat at once & a huge bag of candyfloss under his arm, that you hadn’t thought of him at all with Bucky around. He really was the best & you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy him referring to you as his girl, the man was the hottest guy you’d ever laid eyes on so a few hours escaping reality & experiencing what it was like being Bucky Barnes’s Girl wasn’t something you were going to pass up, even if it was just for the day.

He plonked himself down beside you, handing you your order & placing the candy floss at your side, then throwing his arm over your shoulder pulling you as close as possible to you, he always seemed to like you close. You shuffled into his side, so you could rest your head on his shoulder as you both sat eating your food & watching all the people casually walking by.

‘Do you wish you could go back?’

‘Sometimes, if only to see my Ma & Sisters but there’s a few things now that are better.’

‘Hmm’ you took a bite, was it the best? Maybe, but maybe it was the setting & company you found yourself with that was making it taste better than it actually did.

‘Yeah, the food,’ He proceeded to take a dramatically large bite making you giggle as he chomped it down, ‘the technology, the company too.’ He gave your shoulder a squeeze & leaned down to kiss your head that was happily resting on him.

‘Hmmm well I’m glad you’re here, I’ll tell Tony to hold off on the time machine to send you both back.’

You loved making the Super Solider laugh, he didn’t do it often, but it was like music to your ears when you were blessed with it, so when he found that comment as funny as he did, you joined him in letting it all out, there you were, two idiots laughing on a bench & it was wonderful. You felt so much lighter, like nothing could bother you with Bucky around, you felt safe, cherished & looked after, you needed someone like Bucky. Fat Chance.

You spent the rest of the day on rides, laughing, eating & sharing stories, there was a moment on top of the Ferris wheel where you thought Bucky was leaning in to kiss you, but he just found a bit of lint on your shoulder & was trying to assess if it was Ant Man needing assistance so needed to get closer.

Sure, you were disappointed, & no you didn’t see any actual lint, you always harboured a harmless crush on the Super Solider, who wouldn’t with him being so sweet & handsome, but it was such an odd feeling to not feel at all sad that less than 24 hours ago you were in love with someone else then unceremoniously dumped, or at least you thought you were in love. Hmm.

He walked you to your apartment block, insisting on making sure you were safe in your home before he left, you supposed he of all people knew the dangers of the world so of course invited him up, you didn’t want him to ever leave your side if you were being honest.

You were both settled on your sofa, him nursing a beer & you a glass of wine, ‘Don’t think I don’t appreciate this Bucky because I absolutely do, but why did you do all this for me today?’

‘Why wouldn’t I want to cheer up a person going through something, especially when they are my favourite person?’

It was like your heart skipped an entire beat hearing those words, the oversized Super Solider wasn’t the most forthcoming with his feelings ever, you thought, so to hear that from him meant the world to you, ‘Your favourite?’

Come on Bucky, now or never, ‘Look, Tony said I shouldn’t ask you to marry me or anything & I won’t, I won’t, I promise, but he said I should just shoot my shot, so look it started out as me wanting to cheer you up & make you smile because it’s always my favourite thing to do but at the same time maybe I just let you know that when you’re ready there are other people out there that would be happy to have you all to themselves & will know the treasure they’re holding. Not saying who, but if you don’t mind an age gap of say 72 years, there’s a certain single super solider that wouldn’t mind taking you to the movies, dinner & dancing.’

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he just came out with it, simple as that & his brain wasn’t even shouting at him to jump straight out of your window to the safety of not knowing what it feels like to be rejected from the only woman he’s wanted for 80 years.

You smirked trying your absolute best to stop yourself from jumping his bones, ‘Steve can dance?’

Thankfully he knew Steve was more like a brother to you, so you were just playing with him, so he dramatically clutched his chest, ‘Why … why would you willing to inflict pain on me like that Petal?’

You giggled narrowing your eyes, ‘So he can orrrr….?’

Watching how his eyes darkened sent a thrill down your spine & a deep throb to your clit, he moved closer towards you on the sofa, knees knocking, tracing finger up & down your thigh whilst he drew his tongue along his lower lip, it was a hypnotic, ‘You’d be too much for Steve sweetheart, you need someone who can be firm with you.’

You arched your brow, loving where this conversation was going & the way he grasped you flesh, you dropped your shoulder & looked up at him as innocently as you could drawing out your voice as seductively as possible before biting your lip, ‘is that right Sarge?’

‘Absolutely Petal.’ He couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from where your teeth indented your plump pout, he was desperate to run his thumb along it to release it & replace it with his mouth.

‘hmmm so a firm, single, super soldier?’

Almost looking cocky he managed to pull his focus back to your eyes, raising a brow, ‘Know any?’

You had your finger & thumb pinching your chin in faux contemplation, ‘Not ringing any bells Sarge.’

‘Let me remind you.’

Ding, Ding, Ding. He pulled your face to his crashing your lips together, holding your head in his hands, the contrast between flesh & metal was so uniquely Bucky & you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to go back to two regular hands.

It felt as though every kiss you had ever had before now were pecks on the cheek in comparison, because Bucky Barnes could kiss like nothing else, the absolute passion & desire he could communicate with his tongue had you on a plane of existence you never knew was available, what else could he do with it?

Every moment connected was erasing the last year of your life, why did you waste your time on that waste of space when this was available the whole time?

It wasn’t long until you were pulled onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs & grinding down onto the prominent bulge he was sporting, moaning as it made contact with your centre.

Between kisses he finally managed to string a full sentence together, ‘Are you sure? Feel like I’m taking advantage of your weakened emotional state.’

You giggled into his mouth, ‘Have you been watching Dr Phil again?’

‘Maybe, but I don’t want you to regret anything.’ The way he held your face back to take a pause & make sure it was what you wanted almost made you cry, this sweet man who did nothing but take care of you wanted you & there wasn’t a better feeling you’d ever had.

Connecting your foreheads, you looked deeply into his gorgeous ocean eyes, ‘The only thing I will regret is not doing it sooner & wasting my time on him.’

‘Really?’

You nodded, ‘Make me forget soldier.’

Your mouths were connected again but this time his hands moved with purpose freeing you of the layers that kept him from the entirety of you, quickly reciprocating you pulled his hoodie over his head, momentarily breaking your kiss.

‘The second you want me to stop you tell me Petal, you gonna be a good girl for me?’

You nodded going straight back to kissing him as he pulled your jeans off taking your pants with them, ‘Need your words flower.’

‘Yes Sarge.’

The serum running through his veins kicked in & he wasted no time reattaching your lips in a frantic kiss, working his way down to your jaw, neck & chest, spending that extra second admiring the sight before him.

‘You’re perfect sweetheart.’

‘You too gorgeous.’

He smiled at your words, that wonderfully adorable smile that he only allowed you to see, the adrenaline buzzing through you temporarily overtaken by the endorphins at the thought of this wonderful man wanting to be with you.

It was only a moment of being an adorable puppy, a switch before he was back to the insatiable Super Soldier that was about to plough you so hard you’d forget your own name, you had no doubt Bucky would be capable of it.

‘Not here Petal.’ He hoisted you up, his strong arms keeping you attached to his lips as he walked you through your apartment to the bedroom, gently bending to deposit you on the mattress still not parting your lips for a single second until he was positioned above you.

His mouth began descending back down you neck & chest until his lips found their way to your bra & he tsk’d at it getting in his way & without missing a step a knife appeared from his boot & he swiftly sliced the front of it inciting a gasp to escape, it was the single hottest thing you’d ever experienced & it set your whole existence on fire.

‘I’ll buy you a new one flower.’ it was thrown, along with the knife onto the floor, & his tongue wasted no time swirling around your nipple, the other being squeezed by his cool metal finger tips, the sensation making your back arch & you were already desperate for more.

‘Touch me Bucky.’

You could feel him smile against your chest & like all good soldiers did, he obeyed your command, keeping his mouth attached to your chest he traced his hand down your body, loving the way you squirmed as it hit your ticklish spots, you were so soft & as he gently parted your legs he could smell how wet you were.

Drawing a single finger along your folds, he made you shudder as he teased you gently, admiring how soaked you were for him, ‘All this for me Petal?’

Shyly nodding at him you watched as he made his way down, settling between your legs, it should have felt weird for another man to be seeing you in this state so soon, but it didn’t. It felt as though Bucky was the only one who should see you like that, vulnerable & open to everything he was about to give you.

His nose nudged at you, every hair stood on edge, your breath hitched & your heart thudded in anticipation. ‘Fucking perfect’, the first contact with his mouth to your glistening pussy released the beast within him that had been dying to taste you since the minute he laid eyes on you. It wasn’t gentlemanly, or loving, it was some caveman shit & lord you were not prepared for his tongue. Within the first minute you were on the verge of climaxing, he ate you out like he hadn’t eaten in years, yet his technique was a sharp as a knife, he worked you til he could feel you right on the edge before he cruelly pulled his mouth from you making you whimper & the loss of him.

Yes, you had been a good girl & if anyone deserved an orgasm it was you, but he didn’t want to ever stop tasting your nectar or move from between your legs. If he buried his cock in you he would blow his load within a minute he was that turned on by you, so he needed to at least make this bit last as long as possible for you.

If keeping you on the brink meant he could spend all night between you legs so be it, he carried on flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue, sucking it then burying his tongue in your cunt, over & over. Every time he pulled away you let out an ungodly whining noise or begged him to keep going.

‘No, No no, please.’ You were desperate at this point & willing to get on your knees to beg.

‘Please what?’

‘Please Sargent, please let me cum.’

‘Can’t sweetheart, can’t ever stop, you taste so good.’

He doubled down sucking at your clit & you almost sobbed the moment it was taken away; did he want you to have a tantrum? You were on the brink of one if he did it again.

‘Please, please, please’

You were babbling, tears escaping your eyes & right where he wanted, if you didn’t know what was going on you wouldn’t notice him lasting the 0.7 seconds he was predicting from him being so desperate to be inside you.

You were at the precipice of euphoria, your orgasm on the cusp, the anticipation of him pulling away had you on high alert & you could feel every single thing he did waiting for it to be snatched away at the very last second, but this time he didn’t pull away, he plunged his metallic fingers in you as you saw white & exploded through your pleasure to absolute ecstasy.

Curling his two thick digits he hit your spot over & over taking you to another straight away, the pleasure at a level you hadn’t ever experienced before, if he was talking to you you were clueless, everything was muffled & you didn’t even notice the hollowness once Bucky moved so he was covering you with his body.

‘Look at me Sweetheart.’

You managed to roll your eyes, which you assume had detached at some point during the second orgasm & look at his gorgeous blue ones, did they always make your heart skip a beat?

‘You’re really pretty, you know that Bucky.’ Your voice came out a bit hoarse but the cute smile on his face was worth the pain from straining your throat.

‘And you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, ‘You ready for me gorgeous?’

You nodded against him. ‘Words sweetheart.’

‘Ye.. yes, want you to fuck me Sarge.’

‘That’s my girl’

He pumped his cock once, twice, you were looking down between your bodies, when did he even take his jeans off? He was huge, dauntingly so, the perfect cock, long & thick weeping & desperate for you.

He chuckled at your expression whispering in your ear, ‘It’ll fit darlin.’

‘If you say so Soldier.’ You really weren’t convinced.

His heavy length sat at your opening & slowly he pushed into you as he looked at your completely blissed our expression, head leaned back, eyes closed & mouth moaning the most sinful noises with every inch he added, he latched onto the neck you were perfectly presenting for him, mapping every spot that made you clench that bit tighter.

‘Fuck your pussy is chocking me darlin. Not gonna last.’

‘Mmnn fuck, so good Buck so so fucking good.’

Finally, he was fully seated in you, you’d never felt so full, so complete, you squeezed his ass to let him know he could get going but he stayed still, ‘just gimme a sec, been a while.’

Your giggled at his heavy breathing but quickly stopped once his hips began slamming into you, by god you needed a pounding & he complied perfectly, your good Soldier & all thoughts were lost as he repeatedly thrust his powerful body into you.

‘Fucking gorgeous you know that, wanted to fuck you since the day I met you. Fucking perfect, perfect pussy, like it was made for me.’

‘God Bucky, harder.’

‘You sure?.’

‘Yeah, gimme all you got, I can take it.’ you weren’t sure that you could, but you wanted to give it a try.

‘Not gonna last darlin. You gotta give me one more though.’

His metal fingers connected with your swollen clit sending a jolt of electricity through your body, you weren’t sure if you had ever made such an obscene noise before, it was too much but not enough at the same time.

‘Feels so good.’

‘You my good girl?’

‘Yes Sargent, want you to fill me up.’

‘Fuck sweetheart, don’t say that, I won’t ever fucking stop.’ You were making him go into overdrive, he was feral for you, his perfect angel with the most sinful mouth.

‘Don’t want you to, want you dripping out me for days.’

‘Jesus Christ, my perfect filthy girl.’

You were so overwhelmingly full of the Super Solider, the tip of his huge cock nudging the spot within you at rapid fire had the blinding pleasure begin to rip through you once again as you finally hit your third climax of the night clamping down on him as his hips stuttered & release followed painting your walls with his seed, pumping the cum into you repeatedly until his motion ceased & he lowered his lips to you.

Silence, still connected he watched you carefully as you opened your eyes, blinking from adjusting to the bright light having held them shut from the bliss you were coming down from.

He leaned down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip before he gently moved the hair from around your face, ‘What you thinkin’?’

‘I wasted a year of my life on someone who wasn’t you.’ Reaching up to him you repeated his action, tucking the wayward strands behind his ears, caressing his cheeks with your fingers, it felt like a dream & you didn’t want to wake up.

‘Hmm just think of it as you lowered your standards so much for him, that he made me look like an ideal candidate in comparison.’

You hated that he didn’t think of himself highly enough, you shook your head smiling at his goofy grin, ‘Don’t say that please.’

‘Ok, how about this, seeing you lower your standards to that idiot made me get my act together & be the man you deserved.’

‘Better. Or maybe I was completely blind & now I can see.’

He rested his forehead against yours looking deeply at you, you were waiting for a serious meaningful declaration of love to come out, instead ‘you look like a minotaur from this close.’

You laughed batting the super soldiers arm ‘I think you may have gotten your mythical creatures mixed up there.’

‘Nope, it’s the one-eyed creature.’

‘Nope, it’s a human with a horse’s body.’

He shrugged his shoulders, ‘Agree to disagree.’

‘Absolutely not Barnes, where’s my phone?’

‘Oh, now you calling me Barnes, huh, what happened to Sargent.’

You shook your head at him, loving his playful teasing, ‘Your dick is soft, you only get Sargent when sex is on the cards.’

‘Oh, is that right?’ he planted a long slow kiss on your lips.

‘Yep & for people who know the difference between a Minotaur & a Cyclops of course.’

‘Of course,’ He agreed nodding away smugly. ‘Good thing I’m ready to go again then isn’t it? What’s my name?’

You felt him growing within you & it set your skin on fire, it was an indescribable sensation & as you let out a moan & batted your eyelashes at him you couldn’t help but submit to the huge Super Solider, ‘Sargent, Sir.’

‘Are you my good girl?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Will you be my girl?’

‘Yes, Sargent.’

Both your smiles were as wide as the sun as he began picking up the pace of his hips, nowhere near the frantic level it had been before, this was different, slow & intimate, & as if they were magnets your lips found each other’s yet again.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day darlin’.’

🧡💛💚💙💜🤎

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

Text

Metal Arms and Shorts Skirts [masterlist]

summary: waltzing in as the new head of the Avenger's medical division, impressing everyone, and... scaring Bucky with your incredibly short skirts. Bucky's having a hard time looking at his arm as anything other than a deadly weapon, and you're more than happy to help him.

series playlist | read on AO3

[chapter one.]

bucky barnes and his wandering eyes

[chapter two.]

turns out Natasha is alway right

[chapter three.]

mission gone rogue and it looks like bucky has a new look.

[chapter four.]

being fashionable late, make out sesh and assholes.

[chapter five.]

Bucky finds a new home in you

[x] a small bump

[TBA.] new uniform

📥 Inbox is open for drabble or headcannon request!

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

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a rock star and a gentleman

pairing: rock star!bucky barnes x reader

summary: you just wanted to take your break from the club where you're working as a bartender, but you stumble on some guys arguing, only to realize they're the band playing that night. when the others leave and you're left alone with bucky barnes, you can't help but feel attracted to the charming rocker.

warnings: attraction at first sight, flirting, kissing, brock rumlow being a jerk, fluff and that's it i think?

word count: 3k

a/n: day 29 of my 30 day writing trope challenge was band / rockstar au, which uhhh i was dreading a little bit because i had so many ideas and i didn't know which one to write. i ended up with this one 🤷🏼‍♀️ which is a bit of a meet-cute i guess? hah idk. hope y'all enjoy it anyway!

You stepped outside the backdoor of the club where you worked, taking a deep breath of the garbage and sewer smell that always lingered in the New York alleyway, when shouting voices caught your attention. Heaving a beleaguered sigh—you were supposed to be on your break and the alley was off limits to anyone but employees—you turned to a group of four guys yelling at each other.

“Hey!” you hollered, loud enough to get their attention. All four men paused and turned to you. They looked vaguely familiar but you couldn’t place them. “You can’t be here—get back in the club or fuck off,” you called to them, jerking a thumb over your shoulder at the door you’d just walked through.

The tallest of the men, with a white spray-painted ‘x’ on the front of his black t-shirt, gave you a smarmy grin, and flicked his hands dismissively at you. “Get outta here, girlie,” he ordered in a gravelly voice, throwing a grin over his shoulder at one of the other guys—a man with slicked back dark hair and a mean face. “This is a private conversation.”

Anger was like a shockwave pulsing through your body and you stepped further into the alley, planting your hands on your hips. You’d worked at the club for over a year, which was long enough to have met every kind of dipshit New York City had to offer—from those that were born and bred to transplants and tourists. So even though it was you against four men that were all taller and bigger than you, you didn’t back down.

“I said get back in the club or fuck off, asshole,” you hissed, your scariest snarl fixed on your face. “If your tiny fucking brain can’t comprehend taking orders from a woman, I can get security out here—but then you’ll miss the band.”

You knew you were being a little harsh, but the band your manager had booked was some big up and coming rock group that had a bad reputation for trying to bring back the 80s’ style of rock ’n roll—namely, drinking too much, taking too many drugs and fucking anything with tits. The crowd they’d attracted to the club that night had already pissed you off and they hadn’t even gone on yet. So the guys could blame the assholes you’d been serving at the bar all night for the fact that your patience had already been used up.

When the guy laughed, it only made your anger spike higher and you suddenly knew this interaction wasn’t going to end well—whether for you or for him, you didn’t know yet. Before you knew what you were doing, your feet were charging toward the shithead, not caring what you’d do when you got your hands on him. Thankfully, one of the other guys, a handsome blond that looked like a high school jock all grown up, stepped between you and the asshole.

“Whoa,” the blond said, turning to give his friend a glare over his shoulder. “We don’t want any trouble, we’ll go back inside.”

“C’mon Stevie, move aside,” the first guy said, condescending amusement dancing in his hazel eyes. “I wanna see what girlie here was gonna do to me.” He ran a hand down his chest and over his belt, gripping himself through the front of his jeans. “If you wanted some, all you had to do was ask,” he taunted, cackling when you lunged at him.

The fourth guy, an obscenely attractive man with dark hair and bright blue eyes, caught you around the waist before you could get your hands on the dickwad taunting you. He hauled you away from the others before setting you back on your feet, though he kept you pinned against his chest, like he was afraid you might go after his friend again—which was smart because you absolutely would’ve.

“Shut the fuck up, Brock,” the man at your side spit at his friend. He was radiating anger of his own, and you had the sudden realization that, between the two of you, you could do some serious damage to the other guy. “You’re the reason we’re getting such a bad reputation—no one’s gonna book us if you keep pulling this shit!”

You managed to bite back your gasp of recognition before you made a fool of yourself, but only just barely. It finally clicked why the group looked familiar. The comment from the hot guy beside you and the names you’d heard gave you the clues you needed to identify them as the members of the band set to play at the club. They were called The White Wolves, if you remembered correctly from your research of them.

The blond—Steve Rogers—grabbed Brock Rumlow and the other guy, who you recalled was called Jack Rollins, by the scruffs of their necks and shoved them in the direction of the club’s backdoor. Steve tossed an apologetic smile your way and said, “Sorry, I’ll get them outta here.”

The door slammed shut with a metal clang and you were left alone with the last member of the band, Bucky Barnes, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist, your arm pinned against his broad, muscular chest. There was a pleasant tension in the air, almost like a tangible connection between you two, though you weren’t sure if you were imagining it or if you were just too damn attracted to the rock star at your side.

The sounds of New York City were distant, blocked by the buildings that surrounded the small alleyway, but you were much too focused on your racing heart and the heat of Bucky’s chest to notice them anyway. It took you a long moment to realize there was no longer any reason for Bucky to be holding onto you and you looked up at him with a confused frown.

He seemed to realize the same thing at the same moment and let his arms drop. He didn’t take a step back, though, and you certainly weren’t going to move—he was the one that had grabbed you. Besides, you were standing so close to him that you could smell his cologne, something dark and spicy, and you didn’t want to move away just yet. You also didn’t want to analyze that thought too closely.

There was an awkward moment when Bucky introduced himself and you had to make a split-second decision about whether to tell him you already knew his name. You decided you didn’t. Instead, you just gave him yours and tried not to look like you were two seconds away from begging him to put his arms around you again.

“Sorry about them, doll,” Bucky muttered, shoving a hand into his dark hair like he was exasperated. He tilted his head back and blew out a harsh frustrated breath.

It was a cold enough night that the cloud of his warm breath hovered in the air, but your eyes were too focused on the tattoos that covered Bucky’s hands and neck. Inexplicably, you wanted to lick them. Blinking and shaking that thought from your head, you finally stepped back, immediately missing the warmth of being close to the six-foot rocker. You only wore black jeans and a black t-shirt, whereas he had on a leather jacket over his 80s metal band shirt.

“It was supposed to be a gimmick, y’know,” Bucky said, still staring up at the night sky.

It was New York City, the stars weren’t visible, so you had no idea what he was looking at, but you took the opportunity to stare at him. The tattoos on his neck were a work of art, trailing down his throat and disappearing beneath his shirt. When you didn’t respond, he looked back at you. “What?” you asked, unsure what he was talking about.

“The whole destructive rock band thing, it was meant to be a gimmick, a brand,” he explained and you could hear the air quotes he put around that last word from the tone of his voice. “Brock and Jack let it go to their heads and now we’ll probably be left playing shitty dive bars and no name clubs for the rest of our lives.” Bucky collapsed against the brick wall of the building opposite the club, letting out another frustrated sigh. Then he seemed to remember himself, shooting you a wry grin. “No offense.”

You shrugged and shoved your hands in the back pocket of your jeans, trying not to look as cold as you felt. “None taken, it’s not my club—I just bartend here.” Bucky chuckled at that and you let your mouth curve in a smile. “It’s not fun, then—the drinking, the drugs, the girls?”

Bucky gave you a long look, his eyes drifting down to your mouth like he was distracted by its shape, and for a moment you didn’t think he was going to answer. “Sure, it was fun at first,” he admitted, shaking himself slightly and looking away down the alley, toward the corner where it hooked a right and led to the street. “But all that shit gets old fast, especially the groupies that hop from bunk to bunk like they’re just looking to collect the full set of us.”

Before you could make a snarky response, a cold wind blew through the alleyway and a shiver wracked your body, making your teeth chatter. Bucky noticed and immediately pushed away from the wall, shrugging out of his leather jacket. He stepped close to you and swung it around your shoulders, helping you into the sleeves. It was warm from his body and smelled like him—it smelled so good, you had to stop yourself from burying your nose in the collar and taking a deep breath.

“Thanks,” you murmured, looking up at him. He was somehow even more attractive up close, his blue eyes shining in the dim light of the alley, his soft mouth hooked up in a smirk, and his stubbled jaw just crying out for you to rake your nails through the coarse hair. Your gaze dropped to his neck tattoos and you found yourself wanting to press your lips against them, then trace the artwork with your tongue.

Bucky backed up toward the wall again, towing you with him, his hands gripping the lapels of his jacket. “You’re not a groupie, are ya, doll?” Bucky murmured in a deep voice that seemed to enter one ear and sink straight down to your core.

“No,” you whispered, distracted by the sight of Bucky’s tattoos shifting on his throat as he spoke. But then you processed his words and looked back up to his face, almost getting lost in his heavy lidded blue eyes. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being a groupie,” you said, feeling the need to defend your fellow woman.

“No, nothing wrong with that,” Bucky agreed, his voice dropping even lower, a smile curling the edges of his mouth in a way that made you want to bite him. “That’s just not what I’m looking for right now.” He tugged you closer by his jacket and your hands came up to rest on the band t-shirt that was stretched across his broad chest. His muscles were firm beneath your touch and your fingers ached to explore him and see if he was firm all over.

Tilting your head to the side, you gave Bucky a sly questioning look. “And what exactly are you looking for, mister rock star?”

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and decadent and going straight to the apex of your thighs. Then he contorted his face into a mock thinking expression, even tapping a finger against his chin. “I’m looking for a feisty bartender with a ‘take no shit’ attitude,” he said, his gaze intent on your face in a way that made the rest of the world fall away.

It was heady, the attraction simmering between you two, and unlike anything you’d ever felt before with any other man. It wasn’t love at first sight—it couldn’t be, you didn’t believe in that—but it could be chemistry, paired with the fact that it had been a while since your last partner. As you stared up into Bucky’s too-handsome face and leaned into his hard body, you somehow knew you were on a collision course with the rock star, and it felt exhilarating.

“Hmm, that sounds oddly specific,” you tried to joke, but your voice came out too breathless, your heart racing excitedly in your chest. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to find what you’re looking—”

Bucky didn’t let you finish your sentence, cutting you off by pressing his lips to yours. An electric current of pleasure crackled beneath your skin when your mouth collided with Bucky’s and you both moaned into the kiss. The buildup of tension in your body finally had an outlet and you kissed Bucky like you’d never get enough, and he was ravenous in return, devouring your lips.

You didn’t make a habit of going around and kissing strange men in back alleys, but as you pressed closer and Bucky looped his arms around your waist, holding you firmly to him while he leaned against the wall, you couldn’t help but think there was something special about this rock star. After all, he seemed to know exactly how to kiss you to drive you wild, until you were gasping for air and still refusing to part from him.

When Bucky finally eased away, allowing you room to breathe for a moment before he nipped at your lower lip one last time, you whined at the loss of him. You were slightly dizzy as you returned to yourself, feeling like something in the universe—or maybe just in you—had permanently shifted after being kissed senseless by Bucky Barnes.

“Wow,” you murmured, awe in your tone as you stared up into the rock star’s handsome face.

A somewhat goofy grin was on Bucky’s face and he could barely wrangle it under control long enough to drop another kiss on your lips. “Gonna wait for me after the show, doll?” he asked, eagerness in his tone. It struck a chord in your heart and you were relieved to know you weren’t the only one who felt the connection between you two.

“Uh huh,” you answered, still trying to regain full control of your brain. All you wanted was more of him, any way you could have it. Your gaze was fixated on Bucky’s mouth, though, and you heard yourself say, “More kisses.”

With a chuckle, Bucky ducked his head and indulged you, kissing you until the backdoor of the club slammed open. You tried to jump away and put a respectable amount of distance between you and the rock star in case it was your boss, since you’d undoubtedly taken more than 15 minutes for your break. But Bucky’s arms were still hooked around your waist and he held you tight like he was reluctant to let you go.

“Don’t you knock, Stevie?” Bucky snarked to the newcomer. You relaxed, leaning back into Bucky since it wasn’t your boss. When you looked over your shoulder, sure enough it was the handsome blond from the band.

Pink tinged the man’s cheeks but he stood with his hands on his hips, and gave his friend an exasperated look. “Let’s go, Buck, we’re on soon—and I don’t need you pulling this shit, too.”

Again, you tried to move away, feeling a little shy about Bucky’s bandmate seeing you two together when you’d only just met both of them. Bucky let his arms drop and you stepped to the side, but when the cold night air replaced his warmth, your body trembled with another shiver. Bucky noticed and hooked a tattooed arm around the back of your neck, towing you over to the door.

“Don’t worry, Stevie,” Bucky said as he walked up to his friend, an easy grin on his face. “I have no plans to kiss anyone but this girl right here.”

Steve’s eyes widened with surprise and they flicked to you, giving you a longer look. He didn’t seem to be unhappy about the sight of you, which you took as a win. After a moment, he held out a hand. “I’m Steve,” he said. You gave him a tentative smile and your name as you shook his hand. “Sorry again about the other guys,” he said.

You shrugged beneath Bucky’s arm, a little thrill going through you when it didn’t dislodge him. No small part of you wanted him touching you at all times, but you tamped down that clingy urge. Still, you weren’t going to stop him from touching you. “No worries,” you said to Steve. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

Steve gave you a grim smile and then turned to open the door. Once you were all back inside the club, you tried to shrug out of Bucky’s jacket, but he turned you to face him and tugged it more firmly over your shoulders, giving you a warning look.

“Keep it,” he ordered in a half-yell over the din of the music playing in the club. He ducked his head so he could speak in your ear. “Give it to me after the show.” There was a dirty promise in his tone that made you shiver slightly, the tremble not even a little bit from cold.

“A rock star and a gentleman—how’d I get so lucky,” you teased, before you turned your head and captured his lips in a kiss. You sucked his lower lip into your mouth, making him groan and you pulled away with a grin.

There was a hungry look on Bucky’s face. “There’s nothing gentlemanly about the things I’m gonna do to you tonight, doll,” he promised, his filthy thoughts unmistakable in his raspy voice.

You tried to bite your lip to hide your grin, but it escaped anyway, Bucky’s eyes devouring the expression. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw another bartender waving you over to the crowded bar, and you reached up, quickly planting a kiss on Bucky’s stubbled cheek. You left a grinning, slightly stunned Bucky Barnes behind as you headed back to work, calling over your shoulder, “See ya later, rock star.”

⫸⫸30 Day Writing Trope Challenge Masterlist⫷⫷

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

Text

more than safe

pairing: avengers!bucky barnes x shield agent!reader

summary: when you're injured on a mission in sokovia, bucky barnes comes to help—and you share a soft moment together.

warnings: fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, mention of blood/injury, bucky barnes kills a man, protective bucky barnes

word count: 2k

a/n: day 30 of my 30 day writing trope challenge was "who did this to you," which i've technically written before (though for august walker) but i was excited for it all the same! i knew i wanted to write for bucky and had a couple ideas but ended up running with this one. not much here other than some hurt/comfort fluff, but i hope y'all enjoy!

Your scream pierced the night sky. Despite your best efforts to fend him off, your opponent’s knife had sliced a deep gash in the outside of your thigh. Though you managed to land a fist against his temple, sending him flying into a tree, your leg collapsed and you fell to the snow-covered ground.

You’d barely had time to check the cut and make sure it didn’t hit anything serious when a crashing sound from the woods beyond the clearing caught your attention. Bucky Barnes, in his full Winter Soldier getup, strapped with more weapons than a small army, raced into the clearing and caught sight of you on the ground. His blue eyes flared with fear and rage, a combination you’d never seen on the man before.

Bucky crunched through the snow, his black combat boots eating up ground faster than any normal human, but you noticed he’d lost some of his inhuman stealth, making more noise than you’d expect of the Winter Soldier. It was like he was being careless in his need to get to you. When he reached you, he dropped to the ground and began examining your wound. It occurred to you that you should be afraid to have the Winter Soldier so close, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to fear Bucky even after only knowing him a few weeks.

For a little under two months, you’d been assigned to the SHIELD team that acted as support for the Avengers. You’d moved into Avengers Tower, per your orders, even though you’d had a perfectly good apartment in Brooklyn. Maria Hill had told you Tony Stark insisted anyone working with the Avengers had to live in the tower in case they needed to leave at a moment’s notice.

One night shortly after you’d moved in, you’d been complaining about leaving your apartment behind to Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton in the kitchen when Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes had walked in. When they’d heard you lived in Brooklyn, it launched a long conversation about whether certain staples of the borough were still there. Steve had done most of the talking, with Bucky only saying one or two words at a time. But when you’d taken them on a tour of modern Brooklyn, Bucky had opened up a little more, pointing out all the places he’d saved Steve from getting his ass kicked when they were growing up.

After that, you and Bucky had fallen into a tentative friendship, both preferring the quiet of the Avengers Tower library to the raucous team-building nights Tony insisted on. Sometimes Steve would join you, sketching or reading while you and Bucky would lay tangled up on the overstuffed couches and read. Once or twice, Bucky asked you for book recommendations and then you’d discussed them when he’d finished reading. He enjoyed fantasy over contemporary fiction, and you were more than happy to share some of your favorites with him.

Even still, your friendship with Bucky was new and you were still trying to learn how to read him, especially since the most you heard him talk was about books. In the field, you’d found he shut down even more, like he would default to his Winter Soldier programming and go nonverbal. You’d only been on two other missions with him, but after both, it had taken hours before he spoke. Which was why it shocked you to hear him say anything in that snow-covered clearing.

“Who did this to you,” he demanded in a gravelly rasp, the black half-mask he wore over the lower half of his face making it sound more menacing than you knew he intended. The way he’d said it left no room for argument, so you pointed to the Hydra agent that was beginning to rouse from where you’d dropped him.

Bucky quickly unzipped his black leather jacket and tore off a strip from the white t-shirt he wore beneath it, tying the fabric around your leg to staunch the bleeding. You bit your lip to keep from crying out, but Bucky noticed the way your body jerked from the pain and his hands gentled as he tied off the ends of the makeshift bandage.

When he was done, Bucky stood, just as the Hydra agent was getting his feet underneath him. With his metal fist, Bucky punched the man in the face and you could hear the crunch of his nose breaking in the silent woods. The Hydra agent flew back and glanced off a tree, falling limply into the snow.

You were pretty sure he was unconscious but that didn’t seem to be good enough for Bucky, who kept stalking toward the enemy. His other hand unclipped a gun from the holster on his thigh, uncaring that the man wasn’t awake to fight back. Bucky stood over the unconscious man and fired two shots into the Hydra agent’s head, then re-holstered his gun.

When Bucky turned back to you, his face was a mask of coldness, but he picked you up with gentle hands. He cradled you carefully in his arms as he took off through the woods, faster than you ever would’ve thought possible. As you passed through the trees in the Sokovian countryside, you heard the sounds of fighting, but they were behind you and grew increasingly distant the more Bucky’s strong legs carried you away.

Finally, you reached the Quinjet and Bucky carried you inside, setting you down on one of the seats and kneeling in front of you. When he saw that you’d already bled through the strip of cotton he’d tied around your leg, Bucky made a small sound you couldn’t decipher. Then he stripped out of his leather protective jacket entirely and tugged his t-shirt over his head.

You were left with a shirtless Winter Soldier—the first time you’d ever seen him shirtless—and you were too stunned to do anything but sit there and stare. Bucky’s chest looked chiseled from granite, even as his skin shone with a light sheen of sweat. If you’d been any less dumbfounded by the sight of Bucky’s bare chest, you may have reached for him and tried to trace the curve of his pecs and shoulders with your fingertips.

As it was, Bucky tying his full t-shirt around your leg to bandage your wound brought you back to the present. The sharp sting of pain shot up and down your spine and you cried out, unable to stop yourself when you hadn’t been prepared for it.

“Sorry,” Bucky muttered, his voice clearer. It was only then that you noticed he’d taken off his mask, dumping it on the floor of the Quinjet next to his jacket. You watched as he deliberately gentled his hands while he looped the t-shirt around your leg again and tied it off. “That should hold until we get back to the tower,” he said, standing up.

You knew you should say something, like thank you, but your mouth hung open as you stared straight at Bucky’s abs. The most you managed to do was trail your gaze up his torso, taking in the wide expanse of his pale chest and the way his muscles shifted beneath his skin as he breathed in and out. You knew you should stop staring, but you couldn’t seem to manage it.

“Sorry,” Bucky mumbled. That finally distracted you from the sight in front of you as you looked up at him with a confused frown. “I know it’s not a pretty sight,” he continued, reaching up and using his hand to shield where his vibranium arm was fused to his body.

Your stomach flipped with a sickening feeling at his vulnerability and the thought you’d made him feel insecure. Before you could stop yourself, you reached for his arm and tugged it away, grateful he let you.

Bucky was right, it wasn’t necessarily pretty, mainly because Hydra had done a miserable job when they attached the prosthetic arm. But your first and foremost thought was to worry about whether it hurt him. You traced a finger so gently along the scarred skin next to the prosthetic you weren’t sure he could feel it, but Bucky’s big body shuddered slightly so you knew he could.

“Does it hurt?” you asked in a soft voice, eyes flicking up to Bucky’s blue gaze, unsure if that was okay to ask.

Bucky’s intense eyes met yours and he shook his head. His mouth was set into a grim line, but he didn’t pull away or try to stop you.

You breathed a small sigh of relief at his answer, your fingers shifting to the cool metal of his prosthetic arm and down the length of it. When your fingers reached his vibranium hand, you turned it over gently, so you could draw a circle on his palm. You looked up at him. “Can you feel that?” you asked, your voice less tentative.

Bucky shook his head again but his face contorted in a perplexed expression. “I can’t feel it, but I know how it should feel,” he explained slowly, picking out his words carefully.

You hummed in understanding and nodded. Ducking your head, you dropped a kiss to Bucky’s metal palm before you looked back up at him. “Thank you for coming for me,” you said with a soft smile.

Kneeling down again, Bucky cupped your face in his warm hand and gave you a serious look. “Don’t thank me for taking care of you,” he said, his voice low and somber. “I wish I’d gotten there before you were hurt.”

You offered him a wry smile, glancing down to his stubbled chin, unable to hold his serious gaze for too long. “Peril of the job, I guess,” you tried to joke, glancing back up at his intense blue eyes.

Bucky grunted in acknowledgement, but his mouth pulled down in a frown that was almost comical. You had to hold yourself back from giggling, then worried the blood loss was getting to you. Tiredly, you leaned back in the Quinjet seat, still holding Bucky’s metal hand in your lap.

Gently, Bucky slipped his hand from your grip and stood. Gathering you up in his arms, he turned and sat down on the jet’s seat, holding you firmly on his lap. You were positioned sideways across his legs, and you leaned your head against his shoulder, his warm skin feeling nice against your cold cheek.

“When you’re healed, I want you to train with me,” Bucky murmured, adjusting you on his lap, pulling you closer to his chest. “If I can’t always be with you, I want to know you can take care of yourself.” His strong arms were heavy around your waist but you enjoyed their weight.

“My SHIELD training not good enough for you?” you teased in a sleepy voice, snuggling closer to him, your hands resting on his chest. You felt so safe and secure in Bucky’s lap with his arms around you, you couldn’t help but start to succumb to the exhaustion you felt.

Bucky grumbled, the sound rumbling through his chest where you were pressed against him. For a long moment, he didn’t answer and you thought he simply wouldn’t, but then he spoke. “I just want you safe.”

“Okay, Buck,” you murmured as warmth bloomed in your chest and you hid a smile against his neck. With your face buried against him, you let the scent of his skin—something fresh mixed with pine—calm you. He ran a soothing hand up and down your spine, settling you further. You were nearly asleep when you continued speaking, knowing he’d be able to hear your whispered words. “Want you safe, too.”

Bucky squeezed you lightly in his arms, then went back to holding you close and running his hands over your back and legs like he couldn’t stop touching you—couldn’t stop making sure you were safe. Eventually, you dozed off, content to let the Winter Soldier take care of you. You knew you were more than safe in Bucky’s arms.

⫸⫸30 Day Writing Trope Challenge Masterlist⫷⫷

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antisocialwritingx · 1 year

Text

A Date (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: you have a date and Bucky’s not exactly happy about it.

Words: 3.8K

Trope: friends to lovers 💞 with a jealous Bucky trying his best to be brave, and failing horribly.

Notes: another fluff piece to mend Bucky’s heart ❤️ honestly, I have a problem with all these fluffy fics I’ve been writing recently. I just cannot stop myself lol.

"You have a date?" he manages to splutter just before the panic takes over and makes his heart skip a few beats.

Fuck!

A fucking date?!

His fingers are slipping on the wet handle of the pan he's in the midst of cleaning, and in that moment, all he can think about is how happy he is that he's currently bent over the kitchen sink so you can't make out the shocked expression on his face.

You're nodding beside him, playing with the dishtowel you're holding but Bucky can hardly make out what you're saying when you return his question with a quiet "yeah".

His ears are ringing bells and he just wants to get the fuck out of there.

Silently, he's begging for you to stop talking. He doesn't want to know more. Doesn't want to hear what you've agreed to and who you're... - fuck, what if it's someone he knows?

What if it's Sam?!

Shit!

The panic in Bucky's chest runs amok! If he walks in on his two best friends fucking, he's gonna kill himself!

With dread, he realises that he has to know how careful he needs to be around the compound...

"With - uh - with whom?" he clears his throat and curls his toes in prepared mortification, his narrowed gaze firmly fixed on a wet piece of broccoli that's lying lonely and sad at the bottom of the sink.

Please don't say Sam, please don't say Sam...

"You know the cute guy from the coffee shop?" you answer proudly, and it makes Bucky's heart spring violently back to life. That guy??? "- he finally asked me."

Well, it's not Sam - yet somehow, it's worse.

Deep breath, he tells himself and plasters on a neutral expression as he looks up from the pan and directly into your eyes.

At least you look excited, he concludes as he takes in your dreamy little smile that's usually reserved for when vibranium fingers briefly brush over your warm skin but that he now has to share with... him. The moron in the green apron. Mr I'm-too-busy-flirting-with-your-girl-to-get-your-order-right.

Fuck, he's burning up!

"That's great, sweetheart," he hears himself croak from far away, trying his best to sound like he's happy for you and not as if his heart is in the process of being ripped out of his chest. "I'm real happy for you."

"Thanks, Buck," you playfully bump your hip against his while looking down at your hands as you once again twist the towel between your fingers.

You seem almost... nervous. This date must really be a big deal to you.

He gulps and pushes away another incoming wave of nausea. It's not as if he hasn't long ago accepted that nothing will ever happen between the two of you. You're friends. That's it.

"Are you excited?" He asks without really knowing why. He doesn't want to hear your answer. To hear you verbally confirm the look you already have on your face.

Slowly you look up at him and he has to chomp down on his inner cheek to keep himself from doing something stupid.

"You know what?" you ask quietly with a tilt of your head and Bucky's heart starts racing even harder. "- I actually am."

Even you sound surprised - not that Bucky can really blame you.

"Mmh," he merely hums and pretends there's a particularly stubborn area on the dirty pan that needs his attention.

"Is that weird?" You ask.

He can feel how the sincere question in your voice laces itself around his abdomen, squeezing him tight.

Is it wrong of him to want to snap the stupid piece of teflon-coated metal in his hand in half? You're his best friend and he should just be happy you're happy.

Fuck it, he is happy! He loves you more than anything and you deserve to feel this way - he just wishes it was because of him and not someone else.

"No, sweetheart," he mumbles, trying to untie the invisible knot behind his navel as he starts scrubbing again. "Why would it be weird?"

Thankfully, you don't answer.

...

Cold droplets of water are running over your forehead and down the length of your nose, desperately trying to reduce the tension that's been resting right between your eyebrows since your conversation with Bucky last night.

Splashing your face with water is a stupid attempt to make yourself feel better - you know that - it hasn't worked the other times you've tried it and this must be the tenth attempt since you woke up this morning. The only thing that'll truly help is if Bucky would tell you what's going on.

He's been acting weird since last night, and even though you aren't sure what reaction you'd been hoping for, this definitely isn't it. You know he isn't exactly the biggest fan of the man who's taking you out for dinner later, but getting so annoyed he can barely uphold a conversation? Well, that wasn't really a scenario you'd even considered at all...

You suppose you could just tell him the truth - maybe that would make him more accepting of your choice of date - but it's not as if you can really tell him that the only reason you're going on that date to begin with is to force yourself to get over, well, him.

You've known Bucky two years now and apart from small moments here and there, nothing's happened. It's been two excruciating years full of pining and painful almosts and ifs but he clearly doesn't look at you that way and you don't want to keep putting yourself through the heartbreak. You deserve to spend your friday nights with someone who actually sees you for what you are: beautiful, smart, desirable, a woman.

And as you stand looking at yourself in the mirror, you realise that you need this date to get Bucky out of your head. Fuck if he doesn't approve of the cute guy from the coffee shop. It's none of his business who you're going out with and if he wants to be annoyed about it, then so be it.

Yet you still cannot stand the thought of him sitting by himself all night. He hasn't seemed like himself all day and you know how he can spiral over the smallest of things.

Thus, you check for Sam in the kitchen, the gym, and in the spa area in the basement of the compound, but eventually find him in the common room on the third floor, completely hypnotised as he stares at the television screen in front of him, the playstation controller grabbed tightly in his hands.

You do a quick scan around the room to confirm that it's just the two of you before you approach him. "Wilson, have you seen Bucky today?"

"Bucky? Uh - no," Sam mumbles without moving his gaze away from the animated character who's running through an abandoned city. "I assume you've already tried the dark cave he calls his room?"

"I know where he is," you sigh and flop down on the sofa next to him, stretching your legs and putting your feet in his lap. "I was just hoping that maybe you'd talked to him."

He doesn't answer apart from a few incoherent noises you're sure are for the game and not for you, so you poke at the controller with your toes to get his attention. "Sam..."

"Hey! I'm trying to save humanity from a zombie apocalypse here. Keep your stinking feet away from me," he playfully flicks the underside of your foot without sparing you a glance. "I already told you I haven't seen your siamese twin all day."

"Yeah, but do you think you could... go check on him maybe?"

"I'm busy. You go check on him."

"Sam..."

At the sound of your soft-spoken words, Sam sends you a brief side-eye before he finally tosses the controller down on the sofa table with a loud sigh. "What'd you do?"

"I didn't do anything," you shake your head innocently. Is it really your fault that Bucky is too childish to accept the man you're going out with? No.

Sam runs his eyes over you and squints hard. "You guys are usually so dependent, you're practically joined at the hip. And now you want me to go talk to him even though you didn't do anything?"

"Look, he's being weird," you sigh, "- can you just check on him? Please? Maybe have a guy's night in with beer and that stupid zombie-game you're always playing or whatever?" you gesture to the television screen where the character from before stands panting, saying random stuff every few seconds. "I don't want him to be alone."

"First of all, The Last of Us is not stupid!" Sam raises his index finger at you, feigning an insulted huff. "Secondly; a guy's night in..? While you're doing exactly what if I may ask?" he arches an eyebrow, urging you to keep talking.

"I - uh - I have plans," you say quickly and try and look determined although you can feel your entire face heating up. "...a date of sorts."

The dead-panned look on Sam's face is quickly wiped off, instead replaced with an annoyingly broad smirk. "You have a what now?" he chuckles teasingly.

"You heard me," you roll your eyes.

"Oh I heard you loud and clear," he hoots, "you are going on a date!" he says, emphasising the last word with a wriggle of his eyebrows.

"Don't be a dick about it."

"My, oh my. We're finally gonna see what kind of man that can sweep the rug from underneath you."

"Okay, I'm leaving," you make a move to stand up, but Sam interrupts you by putting his palm to your shin.

"Come on, I'm just teasing," he laughs, "tell me about your date. Who's it with? - Not Bucky, I assume."

"Why would I go on a date with Buck?" you shrug nonchalantly although you can once again feel the heat radiating through your every feature. "It's the cute blonde from the coffee house down the street."

"Oooh, the guy who looks like a young Brad Pitt but with humour?"

"That's the one," you press down on your lips and avoid looking directly at Sam. God, this is embarrassing.

"He's a cutie!" Sam teases with a chuckle.

"I know," you play with a loose thread on your shirt, avoiding his eye.

"Then why aren't you more excited about it?" He asks but immediately emits a groan, "Jesus... do not tell me it's because of Bucky?!"

"I'm worried about him," you whine and bury your face in the sofa cushions.

Sam rolls his eyes. "You're going on your first date in forever and you're worried about that sourpuss?"

"Sam, you didn't see the look on his face when I told him about it! He hates the guy - I think it really upset him."

"Of course it upset him," Sam scoffs, "It's like taking candy away from someone who really wants to fuck said candy!"

Your eyes snap over to Sam in an instance. Completely taken off guard, your voice dies in your throat. Did he just...? No, surely, you must've misheard.

"Come on, don't pretend you haven't noticed," Sam groans, "I swear to god, he's two days away from crawling behind you just so he can lick the ground you're walking on!"

The earth has stopped spinning. "W-what?"

"The puppy eyes? The 'pick me' behaviour?" he rolls his eyes at your shocked face.

Your heart starts pounding so fast you can barely keep up. "Are we talking about... Bucky? As in our Bucky?"

"Uh, huh," Sam nods as if it's the most obvious thing on the planet. "That guy's practically begging you to take him by the hand and lead him to your bed. He's so in love with you, it's disgusting to look at."

"He's what?!" You exclaim loudly, completely out of breath. This is definitely news to you! "No, no, no! Bucky's not in love with me, we're friends," you pant with the blood rushing past your ears.

Sam shoots you an unimpressed side-eye, "yeah keep telling yourself that"

"What do you mean?" you pant, trying to puzzle together Sam's suspicion with your disbelief.

"I swear to god, the two of you don't even have a single brain cell put together..." he rolls his eyes, "I've seen that boy almost snap his neck because you were laughing and he wanted to know what you were laughing at. Trust me when I say that he's not annoyed that you're going on that date - he's jealous."

Well... fuck!

...

You don't think you've ever been this nervous as you pace the hallway outside Bucky's bedroom. You've been here ten minutes now, desperately trying to force yourself to actually make contact with him, but you're holding yourself back. There's so much on the line and what if Sam's incorrect? Then, you will truly have mucked up and everything between you and Bucky will be ruined.

Shit!

You stop pacing. You can hear his favourite album from the forties playing on the other side of the wall but apart from that, there hasn't been a single sound from in there.

You pray he's in a better mood than when you walked in on him angrily hunched over his bowl of cereal this morning, but the fact that he put on the only type of music that can calm him down, doesn't really scream 'put-together'.

It makes you even more nervous though you know you have to talk to him at some point. It's not as if you can avoid him forever - so before you can truly think about the upside of postponing the inevitable conversation, you raise your knuckles and carefully knock on his door.

Everything inside you tenses up. You vision becomes blurry, and you seem to automatically focus all your attention on the sounds coming from inside his room. There's a short shuffle, a sigh and then an irritated "what?!" muttered from somewhere behind the walls.

This is bound to go wrong.

You consider running away and pretend you've never even been near his room, but it's too late to back out now. You have to talk to him at some point, you remind yourself.

With your nerves running wild and the blood pumping through your every vein, artery, and fibre, you open the door a little and poke your head inside his room with a small "hi," your throat so dry it comes out as a hoarse whisper.

He's sitting on the bed with his long legs crossed at the ankles, his hand buried inside a book that's lying closed in his lap. He looks angry at everything and everyone - as if he's minutes away from strangling someone - but when he finds your eyes from across the room, the tense muscles in his cheeks seem to unclench a little.

"Oh, hey," he breathes and runs a hand through his hair in embarrassment, licking his lips. "I thought you were Sam..."

You smile, so relieved to see him softening that you automatically step inside his room without waiting for him to ask you to. "Sorry to disappoint."

"You're not," he shakes his head with a small gulp, "I thought you'd left already. Don't you have that big date?" he asks in a weird voice and sends you a stiff smile.

"Not until seven," you shrug and sit down next to him on his bed, immediately noticing how he's started avoiding your gaze.

"Right," he nods and occupies himself by putting his book on his bedside table. "So - uh - still looking forward to it?"

How do you tell your best friend that no, you're not looking forward to it because he's the one you really want to go out with?

"I don't know," you shrug, suddenly so anxious your temples have started pounding, "not really."

He finally looks up at you again, his slate blue eyes jittery as they meticulously search your face. "What happened?" He asks with tightly knitted eyebrows, "you were so excited for it yesterday."

You hesitate. "...Honestly?"

"Yeah, honestly," he sits up a little straighter, a serious look on his face, "- he didn't upset you, did he?" He says on impulse, his voice suddenly dark and dripping with venom at the mere thought as he reaches out for you and puts his fingers on your arm.

"No Buck," you shake your head and take a deep breath to get your pulse under control. "He didn't upset me."

"Then what?" He squeezes your arm softly, his eyes concerned as he tries to read you, "you can tell me anything."

"I know... It's just that..." you hesitate and consider ending your sentence with I'm in love with you, but the words die in your throat.

"What sweetheart?" he shuffles a little closer to you.

"Bucky," you heave a big breath of air to prepare your bold question that can potentially change everything between you dependant on his answer. "Do you not want me to go on that date?"

"What?" his eyes immediate travel over your face and you can almost hear his pulse running haywire as his fingers let go of your arm. "What makes you think that?"

"It's just..." your breathing picks up as you scan his every anxious feature. It makes you anxious too. "- you started acting weird the minute I told you about it. You've been avoiding me all day."

His fingers find your arm again, his grip a little tighter than before as he desperately looks at you. "No, no, no, sweetheart! That's not what happened," he licks his lips and plasters on the fake smile he's been practising in the mirror all day. "- I mean... I'm not the biggest fan of the guy but who you're dating is really none of my concern. I'm sure he's great, and as long as he treats you well, I'll make sure he stays on my good side," he says softy and sends you a smile that seems a little too genuine for your liking.

You hesitate again as you check his face for cracks, but his smile stays intact and happy. "...So you're really okay with it?" you ask in a small voice, mortified.

"Are you kidding me? Sweetheart, of course I'm okay with it!" he slides his fingers down your arm, capturing your hand inside his fist. "I really just want you to be happy. That's what's important. And you deserve to be taken care of for once instead of being stuck here with me and Sam." He reassuringly squeezes your fingers tight, but it just feels as if he's in the process of letting you go.

Slowly, you can feel your heart breaking.

You knew it... You knew Sam was wrong. Bucky isn't in love with you. Never has been. Never will be. Things are exactly the way they've always been and you're left pining after a man who doesn't want you back.

God, you feel like a idiot for getting your hopes up like that.

"Good," you nod resolutely, fighting hard to not let the heartbreak slip through your well-feigned mask. "I'm happy to hear you feel that way."

"Of course I do," he smiles solemnly.

"I should probably go get ready then..."

"Yeah," Bucky nods and lets go of you. "It's almost six."

With a sigh you hope he doesn't hear, you stand up from his bed and brush down the front of your jeans, not really sure you even want to leave his room.

He's looking up at you like a deer caught in headlights. "Have fun," he says while his hands grab the sheets underneath him, fisting the fabric. "- can't wait to hear all about it."

"Thanks, Buck," you feign a smile to match his, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you, sweetheart..."

You turn around with a wave of your hand, but the smile on your face falters the minute you've turned on your heel.

You can hear his heavy breathing over the music playing in the corner, and when you reach out for the door handle, a delicate sound finally breaks the reticence between you.

"Don't go..."

At first, you're not sure if you're imagining it, but then you hear him shuffling behind you, and when you turn around and face him, he's on his feet. "Don't go on that date," he whimpers in defeat, "I'm begging you. Please... don't go."

"Bucky..."

"I'm in love with you," he says guiltily with a gulp.

Your heart stops.

"- and I can't pretend I'm okay with you going on dates when I'm not."

You're completely speechless. You want to comment on everything. Run to him and proclaim that you're his. That you've always been his. But you're nailed to the spot and all that manages to escape your lips is a tight whimper.

"- I know it's probably not what you want to hear right now..." he closes his eyes and looks as if he's in pain. "And I know I'm risking everything by telling you this," he gulps, "but I've been keeping it in for so fucking long, trying to protect our friendship. I just can't keep pretending I don't want... more. It's stupid, I know."

"Bucky, it's not stupid," you finally manage to croak and it's as if the force that've been gluing you to the spot finally lets go. "It's not," you whisper as you take a few long strides over to him, stopping right before your chests touch. "It's not stupid," you repeat and reach a hand upwards, caressing his bearded chin.

His eyes are glistening, and his breathing is coming in ragged as he searches your face. "Sweetheart," he gulps in confusion, "I don't... - what does this mean?"

"It means -" your hand reaches up so it can rake through his hair, coming to a halt on the back of his neck where you can feel the goosebumps travel through his entire body. "- that I'm in love with you too. Have been for quite some time. Since I met you, actually."

Now it's his turn to be glued to the spot.

His mouth falls a little open and you can tell by the look on his face that he's in the process of questioning everything, so you underline your confession by putting your forehead to his. "I want to be yours," you whisper and observe him closely.

At first, he tenses even harder, but then a small smile starts tugging on his lips as he finally relaxes in your arms and pulls you closer. "I want you to be mine, too," he declares sweetly as his heart blossoms in his chest. He reaches down and kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead.

"It's you," he whispers against your skin, "- It's always been you."

"Kiss me," you beam and almost cannot stop smiling silly when you reach up for his mouth, finally claiming the softest, most pillowy lips you've ever had the pleasure of kissing.

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