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#Bucky Barnes smut
buckyblues · 3 months ago
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slow ‘n steady , bucky barnes
— (fem!reader x tfatws!bucky)
summary; You and Bucky have been dating for a month now, and having a discussion about his past leaves you more connected to each other.
warnings; smut, fluff, trauma, reader has a dirty mouth, oral (m receiving), cockwarming, kinda sub!bucky, body worship, porn WITH plot (sort of), bucky hasn’t had sex in a looooong time, teasing-ish, plenty of pet names, this couple is soft & goofy.
word count; 2,897
a/n; this started out as an old draft from when i first saw tfatws, then i edited it recently to get this final ooey-gooey fic. enjoy <3 - stellie
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Things were about as steady with your boyfriend as steady goes.
He was a private person, kept to himself for the most part. He wasn’t vulnerable or even pouty like some guys your friends had gone out with. James was a classic man, strong and quite old-fashioned. He brought you roses on your first date, which no one had ever done for you.
You met James while volunteering at rec-center bingo. He was there with an older man, looking unamused. It made you feel bad for him, which resulted in some very teenager-like flirting, because the stunningly handsome brunette obviously got a little flustered in your bold presence. You and James went out for dinner the following Monday.
A week after your first date, he couldn’t hold it back. Maybe telling his shrink about you was a mistake, because she had raised her eyebrow at him, silently saying, “have you told her yet?”
James didn’t want to ruin everything with the most beautiful person he had ever met. Not when it had just begun.
He told you that he wanted to go camping, and you couldn’t refuse his cerulean eyes. Instead of taking you out to the wilderness, you ended up in D.C. at the Smithsonian.
“That’s me,” he said, pointing to the pictures memorializing the Howling Commandos and Captain America’s best friend, Bucky Barnes.
Then it clicked. You weren’t dating James Barnes, the humble veteran and mechanic from Brooklyn, you were dating Bucky Barnes, the war hero turned assassin... now adjusting to life as a civilian.
“It’s okay if you wanna... I get it,” James looked down at his scuffed up boots. “I wouldn’t wanna date a 106 year-old freak either.”
You had heard the stories, mostly the bad ones, about the infamous Winter Soldier. It doesn’t matter now, that wasn’t really him.
“Hey, James... Bucky,” you reached up to cup his sharp jaw in your hands. “I still like you.”
He smiled ever-so-slightly, and you liked the way ‘Bucky’ felt sliding off your tongue. He was the most precious thing in the world.
The car ride back to Brooklyn was silent. You held his hand all the way home, thinking about all the horror he must’ve gone through. Part of you wanted to ask him about it, and the other part didn’t want to poke and prod too much. James — or Bucky — always wore gloves too. New York weather could be cruel, especially when it was hot, and Bucky still opted for a jacket and gloves. Peculiar.
After Bucky had dropped you home, you practically ran to your laptop. The Winter Soldier was a ghost story of sorts, so you had never seen what he looked like. You were never interested in that sort of thing either, you tended to avoid the news.
The internet is horrible. There’s Winter Soldier wikis and everything. Some of the ‘Winter Soldiers’ aren’t even Bucky. A crazy terrorist named Zemo tried to frame your boyfriend once and Steve Rogers went apeshit, you remember that being a top dinner-table discussion when you still lived at home.
The pictures you saw of the Winter Soldier was what frightened you the most. Your smiley, shy Bucky, with a striking metal arm and a machine gun. That same arm again at a different angle, covered in blood, holding a knife. He’s always wearing a face mask that covers his pretty, petal-pink lips. His hair is long, and that’s probably why no one ever recognized him in public.
You had to ask him about this eventually. Now you knew that Bucky had been shooting his way through fights since the forties, and on top of that, was put in a goddamn freezer. Maybe you’d give it a few weeks, let it set in that he’d told you, but now you were even more curious about James Buchanan Barnes.
“Buck...” three weeks later, you were stood outside his apartment door, fidgeting with his gloved fingers in your hand.
“Are you alright, doll?” He sounded worried.
You sighed, a somber expression painting your usually sparkling eyes. “I think we should skip going to the movies tonight.”
Bucky quirked an eyebrow, curling his fingers in your grip.
“I wanna ask you some things,” you said just above a whisper. “About your past.”
He froze, the way you would imagine someone would if you asked them to recall years of trauma when they were just planning on seeing a shitty romcom with their girlfriend. Bucky reached for the doorknob of his apartment. You had only ever been inside for a few minutes at a time, but you had a feeling you’d be getting comfortable.
“We can talk about it. I’m ready.”
Gentle nudges were much better than harsh shoves when it came to Bucky. With delicate encouragement, he had talked to you about some of the things he remembered from Hydra, or at least what he could tell you without breaking down. Sometimes you were worried you might cry, like when he talked about meeting Steve again.
Bucky nestled himself further into the couch when he talked about the forties, almost like he was searching for some sort of warmth. The warmth of old music and his family, maybe. You wouldn’t push him. He discussed more recent things like the Avengers, Wakanda, and his therapist, all of which were something to smile about.
He had said his piece for now, but there was something you weren’t letting off the hook just yet. Bucky may have assumed you knew about the metal arm, marked with a red star, but he’s never showed you his arm or even his bare hands. Hell, you’ve been attached at the hip for a month and he’s only given you a peck on the lips.
Go slow, don’t overwhelm him.
“I-“ you held back the urge to just take his jacket off yourself. “Can I see your arm?”
“So you do know about it?” Bucky turned his gaze away from you.
Your eyes started to well up. What could he be so ashamed of?
“Baby, please,” you coaxed him. “It’s okay.”
The sound of your voice melted him like butter in a microwave, and he reluctantly peeled off his leather jacket and gloves. Low and behold, a very flawlessly made vibranium arm was before you.
“It was made for me, in Wakanda,” he held out his vibranium hand to you and it made a low whirring noise. “The old one is... retired.”
You giggled and held Bucky’s cold hand in your warm one. It was an inviting coldness, something that you didn’t mind feeling. It was comforting, it was Bucky.
Before you could evaluate the impact of your curiosities, you lifted the sleeve of his black t-shirt to see where Bucky’s flesh connected to his prosthetic limb.
“No, don’t do that,” Bucky nearly shrieked the words out as he grabbed your side with his flesh hand.
“Why?” You had never seen his body in a vulnerable state, it was beginning to make you crazy.
He cleared his throat. “Don’t like how it looks.”
Damn Hydra. Tortured him and then wiped him clean for years, thinking he would actually forget it. Torture leaves scars, mental and physical.
“I love how you look,” you clutched his chin between your fingers. “Such a pretty boy, always thinkin’ about you, Bucky.”
“Really?” He already looked blissed-out.
“Yeah,” you straddled his lap, feeling like a confused virgin all over again. Bucky only hugged you if he was feeling frisky, this was definitely new territory.
That’s what happens when your boyfriend has lived two lifetimes, and he was an ice-cube for half of them.
Bucky looked up at you expectantly, waiting on your next move. You dove down into the column of his neck, leaving little kisses and bites there. He’s never let you be so intimate with him.
“James,” you tried not to sound too critical. “When was the last time you... were with someone?”
He tensed up, a blush instantly heating up his neck. Poor Bucky had a hard enough time just being a civilian, being a civilian with a partner had been out of the question in recent years, until you came along and wrecked his plans.
“Nevermind, don’t answer that,” you laughed.
Bucky brought both of his contrasting hands to your face, bringing it back up to his. His oceanic eyes had clouded over with a black-ink color of lust, and his creamy cheeks were tinted pink in the dim light.
“You keep missin’, doll,” he smirked. “Kiss me.”
His lips were magnets to yours as your fingers threaded through his neatly-trimmed hair. You immersed yourself in all things Bucky, because he smells like the woods and he’s warm and you could die happy kissing him like this. You’re so glad you missed that movie and decided to listen to him talk, because now you wish to be inseparable from him. You’ll leave featherlight kisses on each and every inch of that vibranium arm just to prove how much you want to stay.
“I’m gonna take this off now,” you inched the hem of his shirt up.
Anyone would have to squint in order to notice what Bucky hated, but from the way he winced, you knew exactly why he didn’t want that shirt off.
Messy scars littered the skin where man had previously met metal arm, right at his left shoulder. There were also countless battle wounds Bucky had endured over the years scattered across his body, but you made no fuss of it. He was just your Bucky.
You kissed the marred skin of his left shoulder, disregarding how much he despises it. He deserved everything, to be praised and loved on, so that’s what you would do. Every bullet wound and scratch you could see received the tender acknowledgment of your lips.
Bucky was almost sobbing above you as you neared his abdomen. You knew in your heart that he needed this, someone to touch him in a way that felt like a promise. He had been through so much and was still impossibly giving. You held his flesh hand in yours and squeezed it, like you were telling him that you were still there. You wondered how many times you had held the vibranium hand without knowing.
“So beautiful, Bucky. All mine,” you were on your knees for him, sliding your t-shirt off. “My baby boy.”
He smiled shyly at you, face going beet-red when he sees your chest in a nicely fitting black bra. The view couldn’t get any better, really.
Bucky groans when you pop the button of his faded jeans open, like someone had just punched him in the gut. He’s sensitive and trying to hold back, but you don’t mind. You shimmy his jeans all the way down his thick, gorgeous thighs. You’d love to take those for a spin, but now’s not the time. His leaking cock is waiting for you, at least now you know that, but you’re still debating how you want to play this.
“Buck,” you massage his thighs. “Has a girl ever sucked you off?”
“No,” he answered breathlessly.
“Alright, sarge,” you snapped the elastic of his waistband. “Tell me anytime if you wanna stop.”
Bucky whined again and pleaded for you to just do something, angling his hips up so you had easy access to take his boxers clean off.
“Such a good boy for me,” you discarded the useless fabric to the side of the couch.
He watched as you leaned your head closer to his erection. He was bigger than you had anticipated, but it’s not like you were complaining. You dragged your tongue all the way up his shaft, your ears eating up his dirty moans like sweet music. You took him in your mouth, lazily sucking his length, and pulling off with a pop.
“You moan like a fuckin’ pornstar, Buck,” you stared at him with hooded eyes.
“I haven’t felt this good in... years,” his chest was heaving. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Sergeant Barnes,” you sank your lips back down on his cock, gagging on his impressive size.
Bucky grunted and writhed around, threatening to release in your mouth any moment. Tonight was all about him, but you had other plans about where he would be finishing.
“Doll, can’t hold it,” he squeezed your hand.
You pulled off and hushed him, soothing his anxiety. His face had a look of fear etched in his features, like he was about to disappoint you. God, you wouldn’t be disappointed, you would be proud that he could let go for you.
“Don’t worry, baby, not much longer.”
With jell-o for legs, you stood up, taking your jeans and underwear off. This was all so new for you and Bucky, but it felt like you had waited a lifetime for it. You didn’t want anyone else to touch you ever again, just him.
He grinned at you, with teeth. “You’re pretty.”
Bucky’s dark hair was disheveled and sweaty, his face was flushed, and his voice was low with what could only be arousal. You’ve never stood before anyone more captivating.
“You’re handsome,” you straddled him like you had earlier. “I’m so lucky, you’re incredible.”
He really is. Your Bucky. He’d go to hell and back for you, that’s just the guy that he is.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead to his. He breathed out a “yes”, and you took his cock inside of you inch by inch.
“Jesus Christ,” you gasped as he bottomed out inside you.
“It’s just Bucky,” he answered your non-question in a choked laugh. “God, you’re so tight.”
“I’m gonna beat your ass later,” you sassed.
“Finish what you started.”
You looked down to where your body joined Bucky’s. It was supposed to be sinful according to everything you had ever been told, but it felt loving and exciting. Your entire body was lighting up, and if that’s sin, you’ll take hell.
Bucky kissed you feverishly, surprising you, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. You began grinding and bouncing on his cock, his thick length hitting every electric nerve inside of you just right. He mouthed at your pulse as you convulsed around him, but you weren’t close enough to finish. You snuck a hand between your folds and started to play with your clit, but the whirring of vibranium plates stopped you in your tracks. You can teach an old dog new tricks, Bucky Barnes included. He played your clit like a fiddle until you came around his cock, clenching down on him and moaning his name.
“You’re so good, Bucky,” you nipped at his earlobe while you still came down from your high. “Gonna cum for me?”
He whined almost hysterically, his release close.
“Let go, I’m right here,” you kissed his cheek to calm him and held his hand. “You’re safe.”
Bucky growled and then you knew he had let go. You felt all warm and fuzzy inside as he filled you up, and the way he held you close made you impossibly dizzy. Everything was so Bucky.
You kissed his forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
The bed in Bucky’s bedroom has been made for awhile now. He told you that when you still thought he was a veteran that had done tours in Iraq and slept better on the floor. It was an odd quirk to you, but even with the truth now revealed, you couldn’t judge him. He said in the shower that he wanted to sleep in bed tonight, or at least try.
You both got in, the sheets soft and silky. Bucky left all the lights in the kitchen and bathroom on, but again, you weren’t saying a word about it. He looked at you all sleepily, shirtless with his dog tags on, and you hesitantly grabbed the necklace to observe it.
“It’s awfully quiet,” you ran the pads of your fingers over the letters on the tags. “Is something wrong?”
Bucky murmured something. “Wanna be close.”
You pulled on the tags to bring him closer. “I see.”
His lips connect to yours in a very sloppy manner, drool everywhere from you both laying on your sides. You revel in the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, he tastes like his spearmint toothpaste. The body wash that he used in the shower smells like dish soap, but it’s intoxicating. It’s all so soothing and sensual that you want to burst.
“Closer,” you scratch down his bicep. “Bucky...”
You’re not even wearing any underwear to hide how soaking wet you are, just one of Bucky’s old t-shirts. You’re begging for it, your hand making its way down his washboard abs and to his boxers.
“Not again tonight,” he gave you a peck on the nose.
You shook your head. “It’s not like that.”
This is what happens when you date a 106 year-old man.
“What’s it like?” He asked curiously.
It was your turn to whine. “Just wanna be full.”
Bucky kicked off his boxers under the sheets, sheathing himself inside of your warm walls.
“Would it be a bad time to say I love you?” He grazed a finger over your cheekbone.
“You’re balls-deep inside me, but I love you too.”
Bucky let out a small laugh, and nothing could be more serene, just you and your boy.
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angrythingstarlight · 3 months ago
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What A Peach
Summary: You decide to try out an interesting pair of legging and inadvertently cause Bucky to lose his mind. What can he say, the man loves a good peach. 
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Gif by @unearthlydust
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, body worship, Bucky is an ass man (dont @ me either)
A/N: Written for @sagechanoafterdark (surprise) and beta’d by the wonderful @buckyownsmylife but all mistakes are my own. 
Do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post any parts of my stories.  Likes, comments and reblogs are weclome. 
Check out my Masterlist and Taglist! Requests are closed 
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“I don’t know, are you sure this is going to work?” you ask, not even bothering to hide the skepticism in your voice. You’ve been watching the same series of clips for the past five minutes and you’re not convinced. “Nat, I’m sure most of these are staged anyway, plus I don’t look like half these women.” 
The alluring redhead snatches her phone out of your hand with a smirk. “Have you seen the way he looks at you?” She retorts, tapping her screen with a long manicured nail. “He’s going to love it.” She stares at you, daring you to disagree with her. 
You roll your eyes and go back to your cart, clicking out of it, you review the return policy again. What started off as a joke led to you studying your online shopping cart, wondering if you were really going to buy some leggings because of a TikTok trend. 
Nat holds her phone in front of your face, “tell me that’s not Bucky.” 
Watching the eager man on the screen, you have to admit that’s how he would act. And you like it. Picturing Bucky behaving that way has your stomach in knots from anticipation, he’s already insatiable and this would tip him over the edge. Nat sees your expression change and laughs knowingly, “remember to thank me when he blows your back out.” 
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Two days later. 
It’s been a lazy start to the day, neither of you doing much besides showering and lounging. You’re sitting on the couch with your feet on his lap. While he’s relaxed and enjoying his day off, you’ve been anxiously awaiting your package. Discreetly tracking it for the past hour and now it’s only two stops away. Glancing over the top of your phone, you look at Bucky, chewing on your bottom lip, wondering how he manages to look so good first thing in the morning. 
His blue eyes fixate on the tv, pink lips parted as he watches the Fellowship of the Ring for the second time this week. A three-day-old stubble on his angular cheeks, his hair mussed from sleep.
 Since you didn’t plan on going anywhere today, you’re in his teal Henley and panties while he has on your favorite pair of gray sweatpants. His dog tags resting on his broad chest, clanking softly as he leans forward, engrossed in the movie. 
One more stop. Oh, you’re excited. So close. You must have made a noise because he glances over at you, his lips turning up in a wide smile, “whatcha doing doll?” He asks. 
You hide your face behind your phone, mumbling “Nothing.” Damn his enhanced hearing.  
Bucky tilts his head, quirking a brow. “Nothing” he repeats, pausing the movie when you giggle. He grabs your ankle with his large hand, “tell me or else, doll.” His playful tone warning you he’s seconds away from tackling you.  
Before he can pull you towards him, the doorbell chimes. “I’ll get it.” You scramble off his lap, inadvertently kicking him in the stomach, making him oof.
“Sorry,” you say over your shoulder, running to the hallway. Flinging the door open, you grab the box from the delivery person with a “thanks” and close it behind you. Tucking the brown package under your arm, you spin on your heel, heading for the bedroom.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, where are you going and what’s that?” Bucky inquires, leaning over the back of the couch, one arm dangling over the side, his amused blue eyes raking over you. 
 You really should have planned better, you don’t respond, trying to think of a way to get upstairs and change. If you hadn’t been wine drunk with Natasha, you would have thought to have it delivered tomorrow. He watches you shift your weight onto one foot with growing amusement and a tinge of suspicion.
 “Come here, doll,” he demands, gesturing with his vibranium finger. 
“Bucky, I-,” you break off, sprinting up the stairs. His huff of shocked laughter following you. “Finish your movie, Buck-,” you yell.
He spots your phone on the cushion; he chuckles to himself, thinking of how easy it would be to take a peek. Instead, Bucky settles back on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. Leaving it untouched, knowing you’ll tell him your secret, eventually. 
You come back down a few minutes later and prop your feet back up on his lap. He gives you a questioning glance, but you only shrug innocently. “Alright, doll,” he says, studying you out of the corner of his eye with a low hum. 
The morning drags on for hours as you try to hide your excitement. Nervous energy rolling off you in waves. Bucky continues to observe you quietly, his interest piqued, he knows something has you riled up and he can’t deny how cute you are whenever you get like this. 
Around noon, after a few rounds of teasing you, trying to get to you give him a hint, he reluctantly leaves you to go work on your car after you not so subtly ask him when he’s going for the fifth time. He smiles at your giddy goodbye, almost laughing again when you practically shove him into the garage. 
With Bucky out of the way, you quickly find the leggings you hid in the closet and pull them out of the clear plastic wrapping. Unsure of what color to get, you opted for the dark gray pair with the honeycomb design and high waistband. 
They look a little smaller than you expected. Putting your legs in, you awkwardly hop on the carpeted floor as you struggle to pull them up. After a few near falls, you get the tight stretchy material over your hips. Smoothing your hands down your thighs, you’re surprised at how well they fit.
Holding up the back of his shirt, you marvel at how they curve around your ass, lifting and supporting you in a way that has you giving your reflection a double-take. Twisting from side to side, you can’t believe how you look from every angle. “Magic,” you mutter aloud, “Has to be magic.” 
You grab a handful of his shirt, tying it into a knot in the front so that it doesn’t hang over your butt. With one last look, you give in to the urge to smack your own ass before walking down to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you grab a few things to make lunch and place them on the counter. Your plan is to show off the goods, make him lunch, and have an afternoon quickie. 
The sounds of him working travel through the closed door leading to the garage. You lean over the counter, practicing some poses you saw on the clips. Remembering one video, in particular, you arch your back and go up on your tiptoes. 
Taking a deep breath, you shout, “Bucky, lunch is almost ready.” 
The loud clanking stops, you hear his footsteps approach the door and you drop your gaze to the food. The door creaks open and your heart races. Moment of truth. You bite your lip, eyes scrunched shut as you wait for him. 
Bucky strolls in, wiping his hands off with an old gray towel, “I’m starving-…” his voice tapers off when he sees you. Fuck, he sees you. In one of his favorite positions, normally he would prefer you to be naked, but something looks a little different. 
His eyes drift down your back to your- oh. A million thoughts race through his rapidly malfunctioning brain. “God damn,” he breathes out after a full minute of gawking at you. 
“What the- how, damn doll,” he groans appreciatively, his blue eyes focused on your ass, “What the fuck, you look good. Shit, you’re always sexy but what did you to that ass,”
Your face burns from his praise, and you wiggle your hips. He lets out a low whistle followed by another round of praises. 
Bucky saunters over to you, whipping his phone out of his back pocket, “stay just like that,” he orders, you giggle in your hand when he takes several pictures, “damn,” he repeats with every snap. “I didn’t think you could get prettier, but damn. You know I can’t let you leave the house, right?.” 
When he gets closer, he tosses his phone on the counter and slaps your ass. Hard. Moaning vulgarly when it jiggles from the force of his hand and he does it over and over until you cry out softly he knows how much you love it when he gets like this. 
His head dips for a quick bite of your cheek, “I love these, doll, love your ass even more,” he points out, accentuating his words with another slap.
“Bucky” you yelp, feeling the sting ripple across your skin. 
He fondles your cheeks, “Don’t ‘Bucky me’ doll, not when you’re out here looking like a goddamn snack,” he mutters squeezing you, “where did you get these and how many did you buy?” 
Not waiting for your answer, he places his hands on your hips and spins you around until you’re facing him. His darkened blue eyes brimming with infatuation and yearning, “You’re beautiful, you know that?” 
“I love you,” He grasps your chin, “but now you have to pay for teasing me like this.” He reaches behind you, knocking everything off the counter, the food and containers tumbling to the floor. 
You cough out a shocked, “Bucky!”
“Forget the food, doll, I’m having you for lunch,” he smirks, placing his hands under your shirt, his thumbs circling your nipples until they harden under the rough pads of his fingers.
His lips slot over yours, a passionate, slow kiss, his tongue leisurely exploring your mouth until you melt into him, your hands in his hair, pulling him closer.
Deepening the kiss, he drops his hands between your thighs, pushing them apart, he tugs at the inner seams of your leggings. You jerk your head back at the sound of fabric ripping.
“Oh, no you don’t, “he mutters, capturing your mouth again before your protest can leave your lips. You quickly forget to be upset when his warm finger slides through your dripping folds, teasing your bud until you ache for more. 
He pulls away, grinning smugly at your whine. He can’t wait, god you’re always sexy, but something about you wrapped up in these leggings like a damn birthday gift out of wet dream has him almost feral with need. 
Bucky grips his shaft, freeing himself from his sweatpants, letting the material pool around his feet. You lean back, spreading your thighs. Your breath falters when his darkened eyes move up to your face. 
 “I can’t even think right now, doll,” he rasps out, his voice thick with need, hurriedly sliding his swollen head through your folds, drenching himself in your slick, “This is what you did to me,” he continues thrusting into you, quick and hard, stretching your velvety walls with each inch. 
You fall to your elbows, moaning when he bottoms out, the slight burn giving way to pleasure when he rolls his hips. Bucky stares down at you, his hands gripping your thighs, he stills inside of you.
 “Wait, no,” he says, pulling out of your warmth. He ignores your confused protest, pulling you down off the counter. 
He spins you, bending you over the smooth surface, his large hand pushing down on your back until your chest is flat on the surface, ass in the air, your head turned to the side as you pant. 
“That’s better.” He states, “much better.” 
 Lifting your hips, he slams back into your core, your warm, tight heat enveloping him with each rough thrust. Bucky concentrates on your ass bouncing as his pace builds. “I’m buying you one in every color,” he decides, unable to handle how good you look right now. “Every fucking color,” he declares. 
“Yes, Bucky,” you sob. The way he’s fucking you right now, you would have agreed to wear the damn things on your head if he asked. Your nails bite into the skin of your palm when he grinds his hips into you.
“Fuck you’re good,” he praises, “so good.” His stomach tensing whenever you clench down over him. You feel every ridge of him when he pulls out, layers of pleasure building with every stroke. Your hands scramble over the granite surface, trying to find something to hold on to, needing to ground yourself. 
“That’s it, doll,” he says over your moans, “take it.” Bucky leans over, angling deeper in your throbbing pussy, caging you under his large body as he pins your wrists down. You can’t move, the smooth counter pressing into your chest, his dog tags dangling over your back,
 “Oh, oh yes” you mewl, words slurring as you lose yourself in the sensations. 
 “You’re only wearing these inside this house,” he swears, dark and low, in your ear. His hips snapping into yours, kissing your neck, “Only. These.” Punctuating his words with two more deep thrusts that send you arching into him. 
You try to respond, but then he kicks your legs further apart, slapping your ass again. Sharp broken sobs spill out, pressure building hard and fast, when his thick digits find your clit. “You’re gonna cum for me right now,” he murmurs. 
Your addled brain only hears cum for me, stars exploding behind your eyelids as the coils snap. Your spasming walls clench down, his name ending in a strangled wail, dragging him back into your body because he feels too damn good to let go. 
“Good girl, there you go, that’s my girl,” Bucky kisses your back, your soft skin slick and salt-tinged on his lips, waiting for you to recover. When you release a shuddering breath, body limp and relaxed under him, he eases out of your slick cunt, trying to hold back a groan when the cool air hits his cock. Still heavy and hard. 
 “Now I wanna see how these leggings look when you ride me.” 
You blearily glance over your shoulder and he smirks down at you, his hand wrapped around his shaft. “Kitchen floor or couch?” You know by his tone, he really means which one first because he’s going to have you on both. 
You do thank Nat much, much later, when you’re finally able to form a semi-coherent sentence.
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 The very next day, you come home to find Bucky sitting on the couch with a pair of scissors in his hand, a large open box on the coffee table. 
“Hey doll,” he utters distractedly, not looking up as you walk into the room. You freeze when you round the couch, your bag slipping from your hand. Almost a dozen of those leggings, all different colors and patterns, piled up beside him, but it’s the pair on his lap that captures your attention.
Closing your eyes, you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Bucky.” 
“Hmm,” he hums in response, his tongue between his teeth as he carefully cuts out the crotch of the neon pink leggings.
“You’re not-” you huff. 
“Oh, I am.” Bucky’s eyes flicker over to you with a wicked gleam, “now you can’t complain about me ripping holes in your clothes.” 
Furrowing your brows, you sputter, “that’s not the point- Bucky, you can’t just-” 
“Like I said now you can’t complain.” He tosses the pair on the pile next to him and reaches for another set. “Oh, and I fixed your panties too.”
8K notes · View notes
wkemeup · 2 months ago
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Play Pretend
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summary: When Bucky is injected with a substance that leaves him desperate for release, you offer your help. pairing: bucky x reader word count: 7.8k warnings: smut (18+), sex pollen (with as much consent as one can have in a dub/con trope)
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“What in the—” you slammed an elbow to the nose of the assailant behind you, “holy,” a quick right jab to another coming up on your left, “godforsaken,” a knee plunged straight to your ribs and you kicked to the assailant who managed to get one up on you, “hell, Rogers!”
Another body fell to the ground and settled at the collection at your feet.
Dripping in sweat, heart pounding in your chest, and your body short of giving out completely, you slumped a shoulder against the cold frame of the wall. Down the hall, at least a dozen more Hydra agents were barreling towards you.
There was no response on the coms; not that you expected as much. The Hydra base in Munich you were tasked with rigging to blow was meant to be abandoned. Nothing left but a dozen empty cells and decades of barbaric research no one should ever lay eyes on again.
Seemed Captain Roger’s intel was just slightly off. Tell that to the series of bodies lying in your wake.
“You better send backup, Rogers, or I swear to God I’ll haunt your star-spangled ass for all eternity,” you grumbled to the broken transmission as you attempted to square up. Fists out ahead of you, swaying slightly on weakened legs, a dizziness in your vision making it hard to tell exactly how many men were charging straight at you.
“What? I’m not enough for you?” Bucky suddenly appeared on your right, chuckling to himself as he released the empty magazine from his weapon and quickly replaced it with a new one. Blood was soaked into his hair line, mixing with the sweat beaded on his forehead, and he brushed the back of his hand against his face to smear it back into his hair.
“About time you showed up. Making me do all the hard work myself,” you scoffed, shooting him a teasing smile as you eyed the hallway he came rushing in from.
He insisted you’d be out in time for movie night back home if the two of you split up, divided the C4 amongst you and met back at the quinjet in twenty. Not even his super soldier instincts could have predicted this place would be overrun with stray Hydra agents looking for a rematch.
One of the agents opposing you whipped out a handgun and Bucky jumped forward, using his left arm as a shield. The bullets ricocheted across the room, puncturing into another Hydra agent who collapsed to the ground clutching his knee.
You exhaled a heavy breath, the edges of your lips dipping down into a frown as you watched more agents stepping over the bodies of their colleagues and advancing down the hallway. You glanced up at Bucky, watching as he weighed the rifle in his hands, bouncing it lightly. It was running low on ammo.
“You get anyone on coms yet?”
“Nothing. We’re on our own.” Bucky gritted his teeth, firing a few rounds down at the mass of Hydra agents swarming their way towards you. It knocked a few of them down, at least.
You started to take a few steps in their direction, yanking a knife from the spine of an agent on the ground before you whipped it down at the ones ahead of you, knocking another to the ground. The echo of gunfire tore through the cramped hall again and it left a pile of men at the front lines.
Four left.
“That was my last round,” Bucky grunted, tossing the weapon to the floor as he tugged a small blade from the holster on his thigh. He smirked as he glanced over at you through the corner of his eye. “Who do you want?”
You shrugged, studying the four agents who came to a slow halt at the opposite end of the hallway. The two on the left looked about as you’d expected from Hydra agents; tall, dark haired, with shoulders twice as wide as their hips and a vicious kind of look in their eyes. Then, a blonde-haired woman who couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from Bucky, a hand resting impatiently on the knife against her hip. Last, a man who towered at least two feet above the others with a long, jagged scar covering most of his face.
“I’ll take the two on the right.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes, glancing between you and your chosen assailants. The taller one cracked his neck to the side and bared his teeth.
“You’re sure?”
You feigned offense; a hand pressed your heart as you took a few steps forward, sliding the batons out from the holsters along your shoulder blades and twirling them between your fingers. “You underestimate me, Barnes. You think I’d let you have all the fun?”
Bucky laughed, shaking his head as he jogged to catch up with you, disregarding the battle cries of the Hydra agents as they advanced as if it was only ever the two of you in the room. “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart.”
The blonde woman stared to advance on Bucky, eyes trailing him up from his boots to the top of his head with a devilish kind of look in her stare. She licked at her lips hungrily, as if she was ready to take a bite into him, though he paid her no mind as he rushed at the two men to her right.
“Hey, Barbie!” you called, waving a baton in the air to grab her attention. “Looks like your stuck with me.”
She glared at you, pausing in her strut for only a minute, but it was all you needed. You sprinted towards her, using the wall as leverage as you jumped up against the frame to propel yourself into her. Baton at ready, you slammed down into her collarbone as she let out a yelp and fell down to the ground. It didn’t take her long to get back on her feet and when she did, her knife was nestled tight into her grip, a new kind of intrigue on her face as she stared you down.
“Need any help over here?” Bucky called out from the end of the hallway as he ducked under the right hook of one of his assailants. He clipped one in the knees, sending them spiraling to the floor with a pained shout, before he smirked over in your direction.
“Mind your business, Barnes!” You rolled your eyes as a smile crept up against your lips.
Barbie took a single glance back at Bucky before her eyes returned to you and there was something darker within her stare you didn’t quite notice, or perhaps you simply mistook it for enemy territory. Either way, when she raised her arm with knife in hand, you whipped around the baton in a backhanded strike, sending the knife flying down the hall. Unarmed, she stared at you with wide, fearful eyes, until you knocked her out with a final hit to the side of her. Nothing fatal, but it would keep her under until backup arrived to hull her in.
Bucky was still fighting off his second attacker as you approached the man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, patiently waiting. He pushed himself off the wall, cracked his knuckles between his palms with sharp snaps that echoed down into the hallway.
“Think you can take me, little girl?” he taunted, voice low and thick, like it had gone years in disuse. He made a show of the way he settled into his stance; fists held out in front of him, shadow boxing in an attempt to intimidate you. It seemed to catch him off guard when you rolled your eyes.
“It’s been a long day,” you shrugged, “and frankly, I’d like to go home. So, let’s make this quick.”
The arrogant smirk dropped from his face, replaced quickly with a wash of rage that a woman half his size would dare mock him in such a way. But he was clumsy in his stance and in his swings, so you saw each of his moves coming a mile ahead. With every right hook, you slid under his arm and stepped out behind him. In every jab, you side stepped out of reach. He exhausted himself while you made little effort in your defense. Without a single offensive throw, he was panting in a matter of minutes.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he bellowed, loud enough to make Bucky pause for a moment and you winced as his assailant took advantage of the moment to get in a punch to his jawline. He recovered quickly, giving you the security to face your own attacker head on. The Hydra giant was dripping in sweat, red in the face, teeth bared and near feral. “Fight me!”
“Only because you asked so nicely.”
As he threw his next swing, you met it with the brunt of your baton, stilling him in his stance. He stared at you, wide eyes and jaw slacked, as you winked at him and dove under his legs. Before he could manage to turn around, you flicked at switch at the bottom of the batons which emitted an electrical pulse from the top edge and plunged it into the man's neck.
He convulsed, gargling out a few incoherent words, before he collapsed to the floor at your feet. You grinned, sliding the batons into the holsters at your shoulder blades.
“Alright, I take it all back,” Bucky’s voice chuckled from behind you. “You don’t need me at all.”
You laughed, shaking your head as several strands fell down into your face, lost to the bun at the top of your head in the struggle. As you turned to face Bucky, you found him standing with his hands planted on his hips and the brightest smile on his face, one that took him years to find again since you first met him and damn if it wasn’t one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen.
But then, there was a sudden rush of movement on the ground. One of the Hydra agents wrestled back up to his feet behind Bucky, a malice imbedded deep into his glare, a determination as he rushed forward.
There was little time to think as you lunged for the knife you broke free of the blonde agent’s hand and whipped it across the room. It plunged straight into the man’s jugular and he fell backwards, hands sliding out from around Bucky’s neck as blood coated the tile floors.
“Shit,” you panted, hands on your knees. “You okay?”
Bucky didn’t respond.
Slowly, heart pounding in your chest, you glanced up to find him pulling a syringe from his neck. He stared at it for a second, stunned as a few stray droplets dripped from the edge of the needle before he dropped it to the ground, letting it slip out from his fingers limply. The vile was empty as it rolled along the tile and settled against the dead body of its owner.
“Bucky?”
There was a sudden, paralyzing dread that swept over his features, one that seemed to worsen as his eyes fell upon yours. Then, his knees started to buckle, his stance falling unsteady and you rushed forward, darting under his arm to catch him before could lay amongst the bodies of Hydra agents. He was shaking, hands trembling, and you could feel the sharp rise and fall of his breath as you held him steady.
“We have to get you out of here,” you said, trying to push down the panic etching its way up your spine, but Bucky shook his head.
“No time.” It was all he could mutter out.
“Bucky, you've just been injected with God knows what and we need to get to you a medic or—”
“There,” he grunted, pointed to an open room at the end of the hallway. With a thick, metal door and dozen locks lining the outside, it was more of a cell than a room. You started to shake your head, but Bucky gripped tight to your arm. “Y/n, please.”
You watched him carefully, noticed how he couldn’t seem to meet your eye, how sweat was beading at his hairline more profusely than it was in the midst of a battle, how his breaths were broken and trembling on every exhale.
“Okay, okay. Hold on.” You slowly guided him to step over the bodies at your feet, most unconscious, others not as lucky, and swiftly led him into the cell. It seemed to put him at ease as you aided him to sit on one of the metal chairs at the center of the room. As you released your touch from his arm, a rush of what appeared to be pain twisted into his facial features though he tried to hide it.
“So, what do we do now?” you asked. “I could try to find the lab. They could have counteractants to whatever this is. Or I could try to fix the coms... but we all know Parker’s a lot better with that stuff than I am.”
You laughed, trying to ease the tension in the room, but it was so thick you could have cut through it with the blunt edge of your baton. Bucky’s eyes were glued to the floor, his hands curling around the undersides of the chair until the metal warped under his grip.
“You need to leave.”
Your smile dropped. “What? No, are you crazy? I’m not leaving you alone after—”
“Go!” His voice boomed against the walls and you tried not to let the shock startle you.
“Bucky, stop. That’s not happening.” You dug your fingers into your hips as you paced back over the door, stole a quick glance in both directions. It was still empty save for the bodies lying in your wake. It seemed you and Bucky were entirely alone. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “We’ll figure something out, okay? We always do. This can’t be worse than the time we were buried in that old chevy under twelve feet of snow in Alaska last year, can it?”
You shot him a grin, hoping to ease him, though it did little use. His face was red, jaw stoned. He looked like he was barely breathing.
“You’re not hearing me,” Bucky groaned, his voice molding into something darker. “You're not safe here. You need to leave. Now. Before I... Before I can’t control this. Before I hurt you.”
You paused, narrowing your eyes. “What are you talking about? Do you… Do you know what that stuff was?”
Bucky clenched his jaw, turning away from you the best he could. He let out a pained groan and kicked the chair out from under him. It slammed against the wall with a harsh clash and forced a skip in your heartbeat, a hand darting up to your chest. Bucky leaned over the table, trying to find support, but he ended up gripping onto the sides hard enough to dent imprints in the shape of his hands.
You rushed forward, desperate to help because you couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain, and placed a hand on his shoulder. It touched upon the thick straps of Kevlar for only a second, and still, it was enough to elicit a visceral reaction. He whined, something between a moan and cry, and he slumped down out of your reach.
“Don’t touch me,” Bucky warned, though his voice broke in the effort. His breaths were labored and heavy, and still it seemed as though he could barely get one in. “Please. You—You have to get away from me. I’m— I’m begging you.”
Bucky choked back a cry, biting down hard on his lower lip, and it was then you noticed his right hand palming at the hardened outline nestled tight against his thigh. He pressed the heel of his left into his eyes, shame burning hot against his ears and cheeks and trailing down in red patches along his neck. He tried to hide behind his hair, hide from you, but it was enough; you recognized what this was.
It was a serum created by Hydra in the seventies, meant to create inhumans of their own design when the clinical measures were proving unsuccessful. It was created to induce a euphoric state, a primal need beyond personal control, to put its host through hell until Hydra had what it wanted: a viable chance at an inhuman child.
“Bucky,” you called gently, though all you earned was a whimpered grunt in response. Slowly, you crossed the plane of the room to him and laid a hand against his collar. His eyes fluttered shut in response, his whole body keenly alert to every touch.
“You should leave,” he warned again, his gaze slowly drawing up to meet your own; a glossy shine shielded over a stunning ocean blue. “Let me... let me take care of this on my own. I’ll be f-fine.”
“It’ll be agonizing,” you told him, having remembered the speech Tony gave a few months back after the team first encountered the serum in Peru. “It won’t kill you, but it will feel pretty damn close. Nothing you do on your own will relieve it. It doesn't work like that. You need someone to help you through this.”
He shook his head. “No. I won’t-- I won’t ask you to do that.”
“You don’t have to,” you replied gingerly, drawing your hand up along his arm, tracing over swells of muscle as watching the way a shiver followed so tenderly in your wave. You rested your hand along his cheek, brushing your thumb under his eyes. He was scorching hot. You smiled at him, something soft and gentle, something sad. “I’m offering, Bucky.”
“No,” he grunted out. “I—I can’t. I won’t.”
You nodded, letting your hand fall to the side. It was remarkable he was able to hold himself back this long, let alone decline an offer when presented to him. You’d heard the stories of men to devolved to a near primal state, who attempted to jump the first person they saw and fought their way to release. Bucky was determined to spare you, even as you offered, even knowing that turning you down would put him through a world of pain.
“Okay,” you conceded. “Tell me what you need. Tell me something I can do, Buck, because I can’t just watch you in pain like this.”
Bucky stared at you, pupils blown wide, almost as if he could see right through you.
“Need to get this off,” he finally admitted, eyes drifting down to his suit.
“Okay,” you replied steadily. “Do you want help?”
He shook his head, his stare glued to the floor, but you could see the way his hands were reaching out for you, how he had to keep himself in check and hold them firmly at his sides. He tried to unfasten the buckle at his chest himself, but within seconds he let out a hallowed cry, dropping his head in defeat.
“Hurts,” he exhaled, and slowly his eyes came back up to yours. He forced out a halfhearted smile the best he could. “Can you...?”
You returned the nervous smile, as you took a cautious step forward. He followed your every move as your hands extended towards his chest, fingers clipping the buckles easily as they unsnapped down his jacket. Each one left a new breath of relief in its wake, like he was just on the edge of the surface, under only a few inches of water.
Your hands slid under the seams, helping to slip the sleeve down his right arm, and Bucky choked back a moan. His eyes fluttered shut, lips parted just slightly, and you jumped back.
“Sorry,” he muttered. His cheeks were near on fire.
“It’s alright, Buck. It’s not your fault.” You reached out for him again. “Here, let me help with your belt.”
“No, no, I’ve got it.” His hands were shaking as he started to fidget with the buckle. He swayed on his feet, trying to find some relief. As he unfastened the latch and unbuttoned the hem of his pants, his eyes flashed up to you. He exhaled a heavy breath. “Can you... Christ... can you turn around?”
The look on his face, the shame radiating from every ounce of him, shattered you right to your core. You nodded quickly, turning your back to him and making your way to the door. He needed privacy – of course, he did. He didn’t need you around to bear witness to the consequences of Hydra’s newest attempt to leave him powerless and vulnerable.
But just as you approached the door, Bucky called out quietly, “don’t go.”
You stilled in an instant, though you didn’t dare to turn around.
“It, um,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I think it helps if you’re here. If that’s alright.”
“Need something to look at, huh?” you laughed, trying to make light of the impossible position he was in, and you were thankful for the short chuckle you heard behind you.
“Don’t flatter yourself, doll. You’re the only one here,” he replied, a teasing back in his tone, and no matter how tense it was or how forced it felt, it made your heart skip a beat.
You smiled, shaking your head. Leave it to the two of you to find the humor in a situation like this. Biting down on your lip, you tried to suppress the grin, though it did little use.
Then, you heard the soft fall of his shirt to the floor. Quickly followed by the pants of his suit, dropping to the ground in a heap. He exhaled a breath that sounded as though he hadn’t done so in years and you found yourself wondering what he looked like standing there behind you, naked and aching, harder than he’d ever been in his life.
“Swear you won’t tell Sam about this.”
You shook your head, chewing on the inside of your cheek to hold back another laugh. “No promises.”
“Y/n.”
“You’ve got to be in crippling pain, Buck. You don’t have time to be embarrassed right now,” you shot back teasingly. “Stop edging.”
“Fine, okay,” he grumbled back, though you could hear the light in his voice, even if it was a little tense. “Just… give me a second.”
The room became impossibly quiet, painfully so, and you waited under bated breath for something to happen. The smile slowly left your lips, fading into a restless frown as you listened intently to his labored breathing, the tight groans of pain, until finally, his hand circled around the base of his cock.
The whine that left his lips was near sinful, and you felt your own breath hitch in your chest as you listened to soft whimpers parting his lips as he stroked himself, covering his length in the precum dropping at his tip. Heavy breaths and wet pumps of his closed hand around his cock, and you clenched your thighs together, wondering how his eyes might travel over your frame.
But God – those sounds he made were beautiful. You could picture him tugging his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes fluttering shut, his shoulders slacking, knees falling a little weak the harder he gripped at himself. Little murmurs of ‘oh god,’ and ‘fuck yes,’ and ‘please’ as he fucked his fist.
You didn’t know how much time had passed by, but your lip was nearly chewed raw, nails indented into the palms of your hands. You could hear how close he was, how his movements picked up in pace, how his breaths labored, how his moans filled the room higher and higher until – it stopped.
Sudden and aching, he lost it before the fall and your heart broke as you heard him cry out in pain.
“Bucky?” you called softly, not daring to turn around to face him after he asked you not to. Your heart was pounding in your chest, hands clenched tight, and you swore your knees would buckle out from under you if you unlocked them for even a second.
“Fuck, I… I can’t...”
“Bucky, are you okay?” you tried again, worried. There was a panic in his voice that wasn’t there before, a desperate longing etched into every syllable, and it scared you.
“I can smell you,” he said simply, achingly.
Your breath hitched and you squeezed your legs together. There was a throbbing there, an emptiness you couldn’t quite shake. “Do you... Do you want me to leave?”
“No,” he replied quickly and you could tell he was contemplating his options. He was growing desperate and that lingering sense of control he maintained was slipping through his fingers. “No, I— You were right. I can’t do it on my own. I need—fuck. I need…”
“Just ask,” you offered again, head tilting just enough to the side that he could see your face but you kept your stare to the wall. “I’m here. I’m saying yes. Just tell me what you need.”
“You.”
It surprised you as he said it; a little lower, a little darker, but certain.
Slowly, you turned to face him.
Sculpted by Michelangelo himself, Bucky carried the most beautiful lines across his body; divots along muscles and carvings of delicate design. You could tell he expected your eyes to fall straight to his shoulder, to the mess of scars and metal he loathed, or to the vulnerability standing hard in his grasp, but instead, you kept your gaze focused on his eyes.
Bucky stood completely naked before you, his right hand still pumping slowly around his cock as you edged forward. He watched you, biting at his lip as he flicked his thumb over his tip. Eyes trailed down over your frame greedily, hungrily, as if the act of simply looking was enough to draw a twitch from his cock. He tugged his lip between his teeth, tightening his grip around himself.
As you came up beside him, you reached up and sat your hand against his right shoulder, watching how he closed his eyes in response, how his jaw slacked. His lazy thrusts evened out, slowing down, as you traced your hand down his arm, simply lost in your touch. Your hand slid down his bicep, over raised muscle, along his forearm to his wrist, and then, you gently nudged his hand from his cock and replaced it with your own.
His lips fell open, a slight tremble in his breath as you gripped him. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, leaning against you as he caged you to what appeared to be an interrogation table. You felt the warped metal against your thighs from where he’d clutched at it just moments earlier.
Steadily, you began to pump him in your hand, careful to spread the wet of his precum down his shaft. He was hard within your grasp, painfully so, enough that you could feel the crystal outline of a vein running up along the underside. You pressed your thumb against it as you slid your hand up to his tip and brushed it over his slit. The whine he released against your neck was the most beautiful sound you ever heard.
“This okay?”
“S’good.” He nodded meekly against your collar but you could feel the strain in his shoulders, the restraint that left his jaw wired shut and breaths tight.
“It’s not enough, though. Is it?” you asked gently, though you knew the answer. You knew what he needed and your hand, or even your mouth, would not be enough. The Hydra scientists knew what they were doing when they designed this. It had a very specific purpose and it would not yield for anything less.
“You don’t have to, Y/n,” he said, stronger than you’d heard his voice since he was injected. It took nearly all his strength.
You smiled, letting your free hand cup at the side of his face. He leaned into the touch, seeking more, almost instinctively. Bucky was a complicated man; capable of light-hearted jokes in the middle of a warzone and an immeasurable guilt and shame that had not left him in his years since he was freed from Hydra. He was your closest friend, your partner in the field, a man that you trusted above all others, a man you cared for in ways he would never quite understand.
“I’m here, Bucky. I’ve got you,” you whispered sweetly, but you could still feel his hesitance. “Listen to me, I’ll leave if you really want me to. I’ll stop if this isn’t what you want. But please, don’t send me away and leave you suffer through this alone because you think I don’t want you. I do, Buck. I want you. I want to make you feel good. I want to take away your pain. Let me.”
He stared at you for a moment, a strange mixture of disbelief and longing upon his features. Slowly his hands lifted from the table and felt for the clasp at the back of your suit. You nodded at him, and slid the zipper down your spine, exposing perfect, untouched skin. He pealed it down along your shoulders, over your chest and down your waist. You helped him remove it down to your feet and kicked it off to the floor beside his own.
His eyes drifted to your chest, hands itching to reach out, but he held them firm at his sides.
“It’s okay, Buck. You can touch me,” you told him, reaching behind your back and releasing the clasp of your bra. The straps fell down your shoulders and you let the fabric slip from you. Bucky swallowed, his eyes drifting to your exposed chest. A smile started to curve upon your lips the longer he stared at you, like you were something to revere.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured quietly, almost to himself, as if saying it purely for the state of fact.
Your heart skipped a beat, lips parting in a slight shock, and you wondered if this was what it was like for the women he brought home on cold, lonely nights from the bar. You’d seen the content smiles on their faces in the morning as they sauntered out of his room with messy hair and a blissful kind of look in their eyes.
Bucky wasn’t the cold, calculating man the papers made him out to be. He was kind, exceptionally sweet, and a selfless to a fault. You didn’t suspect he was any different in a bedroom.
He shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I never thought this would be how—"
But then— his face started to contort and suddenly Bucky was keening over. He clutched at his stomach, digging his nails deep into the muscle and he nearly collapsed to his knees.
“Bucky!”
You grabbed a firm hold of his right arm, just enough to keep him steady, and even the smallest of touches alone seemed to ignite something in him. Goosebumps littered his skin and a sweet kind of whine escaped past his lips as you ran a hand soothingly along his spine.
“Come on, we don’t have a lot of time,” you warned gently. It was a miracle within itself he was still on his feet. This serum had put ordinary men into shock within minutes if they didn’t find release. Never enough to kill them, but just enough to make them wish it would.
Bucky followed you back to the table at the center of the room, his hand clasped tightly in your own. It was the most physical affection you’d shown for one another, a tenderness outside of the rush of foreign chemicals in his veins, and you tried not to think about the fallout you were bound to find after.
He helped to guide you onto the table, resting your back against the cool, metal surface. Then, slowly, he crawled on top of you. His eyes drifted down to your panties and you lifted your hips for him, giving him the permission he needed to pull them down your legs.
His hand slid down along your curves, drawing goosebumps in his wake, until he swiftly slid his fingers between your thighs. Dipping into the wetness at your core, he spread his fingers around, lubricating himself until he slid two easily inside of you.
“Oh, Bucky,” you moaned, back arching as he pumped them against your walls. “God, that feels—so good.”
His left hand was curled tightly into a fist near you head as he propped his body weight up against the arm; gears whirring, the scars at the base of his shoulder red in the strain of it. One quick glance at the tension coating his muscles, the sharp breaths in his chest, the whine as his cock touched your thigh, and you were pulled swiftly from the clouds, a startling reminder why you were doing this in the first place.
“Hey, don’t worry about me,” you told him, a little breathless as he added the third finger. “I’m fine, Buck. You need to come. This isn’t about me.”
He shook his head, determined. “You’re not ready yet.”
You chuckled, a heat of embarrassment washing over you, even as he scissored his fingers, stretching your walls. You had to choke back a moan and the urge to clamp your thighs together around his wrist.
“I’m more than ready,” you said, voice a little higher, hands clenching at the sides of the table as you felt your walls tightening around his fingers. “Trust me, Buck. Just listening to you touch yourself was enough.”
You laughed again but the room was thick in tension, almost unbearably so. Bucky could hardly hear you. His hair had fallen down to shield his face, his gaze focused on where his fingers were lost to the most intimate parts of you; determined.
“It has to be good for you,” he muttered out slowly. You narrowed your eyes on him, growing worried as he seemed to retreat within himself. He was distant, his mind far away from his body. “It has to be good… it has to be good for you otherwise… otherwise I’m… I’m...”
He wouldn’t say it but you knew what he meant.
“Bucky, come back to me.” You reach up and grabbed a firm hold of his cheeks, thumbs at his jawline, and drew his attention to your eyes. It took him a moment to get there, but you found ocean blue again, even if it was clouded in dark, stormy skies. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about how I feel, alright? Just do what you need to, I’ll be fi—”
“I won’t use you like that!” Bucky snapped defiantly, startling you. “I don’t care that it feels like my skin is on fire and there’s knives carving through my body. I don’t care that I feel like I’m going to pass out and everything in me is fighting to force my way onto you and take what I want regardless of what it does to you! I don’t care! You’re my best friend and I… I…” He was panting, red in the face, and he couldn’t seem to find his words. He swallowed, though it looked as though it burned. “It has to be good for you, okay?”
You nodded, running your hands gently along his arms; his left, solid metal, unwavering, and his right trembled deep within the tissue – the gentle movements of his forearm pressed up against your stomach, his fingers searching out a pleasure he so desperately needed you to feel.
“I…” he started before he clenched his jaw. A heavy exhale followed, a drop of his gaze, and he muttered out weakly, “I need to pretend this is real.”
Your lips parted in shock; heart stammering so painful in your chest you wondered if he could hear it. Before you could say anything, before you could ask him what he meant by that, Bucky let his fingers slip out from between your legs, resting slicked against your thigh. The emptiness was startling.
“I think you’re ready for me now.”
Bucky nestled himself between your legs, lined his length your entrance with a gentle sweep of his top through your folds. He shivered, something near violent as it shook through his spine, and you were reminded again that Bucky was suffering, that he had a foreign chemical in his veins that ripped away his control and left him powerless to Hydra.
His skin was flushed red, sweat beading on his forehead and down his neck. There were sharp marks in the palm of his right hand where he dug his own nails into his skin. His breaths were coming in quickly and uneven.
“Look at me,” you ordered, stern enough to draw his attention. “Don’t hold back. You need to get this out, okay? I will tell you if it’s too much.”
It took him a moment, a breath of contemplation, before he nodded; slow and hesitant. You could see the strain in his jawline, the tension in his shoulders from how much he was restraining himself. It must have been agonizing, but Bucky had been through worse in his life. You supposed pain had become a familiar friend, one he learned to tame and control, even when it ripped him apart.
The moment he pressed his tip past your entrance, as he bottomed out in one thrust, as he felt your walls squeeze tightly around him for the first time, Bucky nearly came on the spot. He gasped into your shoulder, sucking marks against your skin as he rolled his hips against you. Slow and steady at first, reveling in the feel of being consumed whole, of being taken so well, of a rush of endorphins and pleasure he’d never felt even in the peak of sex. Everything was heightened, every touch was immaculate; he could feel your heartbeat through the walls squeezing at his cock.
“Oh, f-fuck,” he moaned against your ear, breath hot, voice dangerously low. “Fuck you feel so good, sweetheart. So fucking good. Goddamn perfect.”
You nodded, arms circling up around his shoulders as you rolled your hips to meet his own. You could still feel the stone carved tension in his muscle, how much he was holding back from what he needed. He was trying to be gentle with you, loving in a way the serum was not designed for, but it was testing him. He wouldn’t give into it, not in the way you asked him to, because Bucky had already lost so much to Hydra, already lost pieces of his mind and body, he would not let them take his soul, too.
“Just for you.” The words passed through your lips before you could quite catch onto their meaning. Your hands slipped down his chest as you brushed your thumbs against his nipples. He moaned, hips picking up in pace. He needed the encouragement, you realized. It was the only way he’d allow himself the release he needed to free his body of that serum.
He needed to pretend it was real.
He needed to pretend that you weren’t laying upon a cold, unforgiving table in an old Hydra base, that maybe this was something more than the consequences of a vile he didn’t ask for.
The line between the fantasy and reality was painfully thin.
“F-fuck, you’re so tight,” he mumbled breathily. The table began to squeak with every snap of his hips, with every drag of his cock at your core, the brush of his tip to the sweetest spot. It was easy to lose yourself in him, to forget that you were in an abandoned Hydra cell, that he had a foreign chemical in his veins determined to destroy him. He felt like heaven.
“S’all yours,” you whispered, drawing your hands down along his waist, slipping over his hips and gripping into the soft flesh of his ass. You pulled him deeper into you, daring him to go further. His pupils were blown so wide, you could barely see the blue in his eyes. He was slipping, barely holding into the restraint he so desperately clung to, and you rolled your hips at just the right angle, squeezed him enough to draw a mangled cry from his lips.
You kissed at the dip of his collar, sucking sweetly as he all but purred in response. Your lips mapped a path up his neck, along his jaw line, over cheekbones and at the tip of his nose, until you paused at his mouth. His heart was pounding, thunderous in his chest, and his hips seemed to pick up in pace with every kiss.
It wasn’t until you captured his lips against your own that Bucky lost the last ounce of control he had been clinging onto.
Something like a growl purred against your lips, a sound near feral, and the gentle push of his hips like ocean waves against you turned into quick, harsh snaps. He pulled his lips from you, trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck, until he found the place he was looking for and sunk his teeth to the crook of your shoulder.
“Ah, Bucky!”
All consuming. Feverish. A man untamed and he did not relent, not as your walls tightened around him like the twist of a coil, or as the sound of skin and wetness between your legs echoed high into the room, or when his fingers touched at your clit and rubbed harsh, quick and pressured circles until you were crying out so loudly, it must have carried through the whole base.
“Fuck! Ah, God, Bucky, don’t stop!”
Bucky groaned against you, sucking a mark where his teeth had met your flesh. You could feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, the pulse of his cock in your cunt, the thick vein that ran along his underside as it added so sweetly to the pressure at your entrance. It was wild and unhinged, but God – it was good.
“Y-yeah, baby, right there,” Bucky moaned, his thrusts falling uneven, haphazard, needy. “F-fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna—ah, ah, f-fuck—”
The heat of him, the way he filled you so perfectly, the rush, and it pushed you over the edge. White hot and intoxicating, the wash of it broke open in floodgates and swept through you. His fingers did not let up on your clit as you squirmed and withered below him, his thrusts falling lazy as he chased the end of his release.
Breathless and a little dizzy as you came down from your high, you felt his heartbeat inside of you; quick, but even. The serum had done its work. It released him from its hold.
Bucky was panting, the full of his weight having fallen onto you. His hair was wet with sweat, messy and untamed, and the room smelled distinctly of sex. But more than that, it was unbearably silent.
Slowly, Bucky began to pry himself off of you, allowing his softened cock to slip from between your legs, slick and satisfied. He swallowed, a blush creeping onto his cheek as he pushed his hair behind his ear.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
You chuckled, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him quickly tug his pants back on before he bent down and picked up your suit for you, handing it gingerly to you upon the table with a shy sort of smile.
“Alright? I’m great.” You grinned over at him, glowing in the aftermath of your release. “You feel okay now?”
He nodded, a nervous smile tugging on his lips as he watched you jump down from the table and step into your suit. His eyes must have lingered on your thighs where his cum was still slick along the skin from his release because his smile began to fall, his jaw tightly clenched.
“SHEILD has me on birth control, Buck. Don’t worry about that,” you told him softly. You tugged the sleeves back up your arms, though it proved difficult with the lingering sweat on your skin. You flipped your hair over your shoulder and turned your back to him. “Do you mind?”
He cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffling forward to zip up the back of your suit. He brushed a few stray strands of hair over your shoulder, the gentle sweep of cool metal a relief against the hot flush of your skin; impossibly tender for a man capable of the things he was.
“So,” he started, a nervous chuckle in his voice as he grasped hold of the zipper, “should we talk about this or—”
“Bucky? Y/n? You guys read me?”
Steve.
“Seems the coms are back on,” you sighed, stepping to the side after Bucky finished zipping your suit. He was still holding his tactical vest in his hand, along with the one-armed jacket. His hair was untamed, cheeks flushed, and you imagined you looked of the same.
“We got you, Steve,” Bucky replied, though it seemed rather reluctant. “Where you been, man? You dropped us in a warzone.”
“Yeah, I figured that out,” Steve grumbled back. “Get to the jet. We’ll debrief on the way back. Don’t forget to rig the place to blow on your way out.”
“Right,” you rolled your eyes, grinning at Bucky as he slipped his jacket on. “Certainly, can’t forget the one thing you sent us here to do.”
“Unless you’ve got more Hydra agents hiding in the wings?” Bucky added on and you could practically see Steve deadpan from the cockpit.
“Just get out of there before I come get you myself.”
You laughed as you slid the batons back into the holsters at your shoulder blades.
It was strange, how quickly it felt as if nothing had changed at all. Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe it was a quick release and you were simply helping a friend. Maybe it was something neither of you would speak of again and you’d go right back to being partners, friends, as if it never happened.
But as you turned around at the edge of the room, a smile wide upon your face, you found Bucky watching you with a kind of look in his eye you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t one you recognized, wasn’t one you’d seen in him before. It was something new.
His eyes flickered to your collarbone where a mark upon your skin was growing discolored; bite marks and bruising where his mouth had been. A strange mixture of remorse and longing, affection and need, all rolled into one.
“You ready, Buck?”
He nodded quickly, snapping himself from his gaze with a pressed smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, though he tried. He met you at the edge of the room, trailing a few steps behind you, and you turned around to find him staring back into the cell, like he was trying to preserve a memory of some kind.
You realized as you watched Bucky clear his throat awkwardly, turning back to you with a gentle blush of pink in his cheeks, that there was no pretending you hadn’t crossed a line together. There was no going back.
---
part 2
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evermorehabit · 3 months ago
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When bucky finally realized his worth after someone thanked him for saving his life. This scene means everything to me
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Give my series a read!
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bucksfucks · 3 months ago
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  𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙢𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡 ; 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀
summary┃the amount of times you and bucky have seen each other masturbating is alarmingly high. might as well do it together.
pairing┃roommate!bucky x f!reader
word count┃2,920 words
warnings┃masturbation, mutual masturbation, use of toys [vibrator], lots of lube, dirty talk, general nakedness, bucky edging you, praise kink, slight authority kink, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, lots of teasing, slight mocking — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI
notes┃not to be vulgar but i want him to destroy my pussy 😃✌🏻
PART TWO
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     The first time it happened, you were mortified. Hiding your face in your hands as Bucky laughed from the other side of the kitchen counter. You wanted the Earth to open up and swallow you. 
    “The walls are paper thin and your vibrator isn’t exactly,” he smirked, “quiet.” 
     You felt your entire body flush, skin on fire from utter embarrassment as Bucky called you out on hearing you masturbate. 
     It’s not like he did much to hide it either though. 
    “At least I don’t moan every five seconds like you,” you hissed back playfully as Bucky’s face dropped. 
     “I always assumed you were asleep,” he mumbles, a slight blush creeping up his neck as you feel your confidence slowly growing back.
     “And what do you think wakes me up?” You chide back as Bucky folds his arms over his chest.
     His naked chest.
     “Well we clearly have to come up with a system.” Bucky jokes before the conversation slowly drifts to topics other than masturbation.
     The first time you had actually caught him, you felt your heart nearly drop out of your ass as you walked into Bucky’s room with your phone in your hand.
     You were hoping to get his opinion on something.
     Instead you were met with his hand wrapped around his cock.
     “Bucky can you—oh my God!” You dropped your head, covering your eyes as your mouth fell agape.
     “Hey babes, what’s up?” He was so nonchalant, as if his cock wasn’t out for you to see and the porn video still faintly playing on his phone screen.
     “Buck—I-I,” you stuttered, walking backwards and slamming the door behind you.
     “Where’ya goin’!” You finally let your hands drop from your eyes as you stare at the door in disbelief.
     “Bucky your entire dick was out! What do you mean, where am I going?” You were shocked, your friendship effectively ruined as you hear shuffling before the door swings open.
     At least he has boxers on.
     “Tit for tat?” Bucky smirks, leaning against the doorframe as your face still shows your shock.
     “Oh c’mon Sweets,” he flicks your nose gently, “now there’s nothing left to your imagination.” He winks, brushing past you and into the washroom where the shower was started and he would undoubtedly resume his activity.
     You had to admit, while it was a massive shock, the image of Bucky’s cock was burned into your memory.
     It didn’t help that Bucky was hot. It also didn’t help that you could hear him and could hear all the filthy things he would say during the occasional hook up he had.
     Seeing his cock didn’t help the throbbing between your thighs either.
     It was a hot summer night in an apartment that didn’t have air conditioning—your window open as the soft breeze cooled you for a second.
     Horny and hot. Hot and horny and yet you were out of luck as vibrator died and you had forgotten to pick up batteries from the convenience store.
     Your hands travelled down your panty clad body and you sighed when you finally applied pressure to your clit.
     It was too hot for anything else, nipples hard as your duvet lay bunched at the end of the bed—legs spread open as you relaxed against your pillows.
     Bucky.
     He consumed your thoughts as you slipped your fingers under your panties and through your folds—there would be no teasing tonight.
     A year and a half of living with him, a year and a half of watching him do push-ups on the living room floor, emerge from the shower in nothing but a towel, hear him grunt as he buried his cock inside of the girl he brought home from the bar.
     A shiver went down your spine as you slipped your fingers inside of you, trying hard to reach that sweet spot.
     Your mouth fell open and suddenly, you couldn’t stop Bucky’s name from leaving your lips as you squirmed under your own touch.
     “Sweets, what is it?” A groggy, sleepy Bucky stood in your doorway as you gasped, shooting up into a sitting position as you tried to cover yourself.
     “What the fuck?” You whisper yelled in shock, Bucky’s tired eyes going wide as he trained them to the floor as you grabbed your blanket.
     “Well you were calling my name, but I can see why now,” he smirked, shamelessly adjusting his dick in his shorts.
     You fell back against the bed with a frustrated groan, “I was so close.”
     This wasn’t going to help your mood, frustrations growing from your failed and rejected orgasm.
     “By all means, don’t let me stop you.” He smirks, spinning on his heels and walking back to his bedroom where you can hear the squeaks of his bed springs as he no doubt throws himself on the mattress.
     You stare at your ceiling, heart still beating away in your chest, watching the fan blades spinning rapidly before you hear the distinct sound of Bucky’s low groan.
     That asshole.
     If he didn’t let you finish, you sure as hell weren’t about to let him.
     You jumped out of bed, not bothering to put a shirt on because, well, not like he hasn’t already seen everything.
     “Hey asshole!” You yelled, knocking your fist on his door, “if I don’t come, then you don’t either.”
     Suddenly, he went quiet. Shuffling on the other side before the door opened to a naked Bucky.
     You had to remind yourself to keep your eyes on his.
     “What if we both come?” His question confuses you, eyebrows furrowed as you cock your head to the side.
     “If we both come, then it’s a win-win, right?” He asks and you have no choice but to nod your head.
     “Yeah, but—“ you don’t finish your sentence before Bucky’s tugging you into his room by your wrist, a small squeak leaving you before you’re both bouncing onto his bed.
     “Just hear me out, Sweets.” He smiles, letting you get comfortable before you’re both on your backs looking at his rickety ceiling fan.
     “What if we just both,” he clears his throat, “masturbate together?”
     He doesn’t seem to confident, but the proposition leaves your breath hitching as you can see the way his cock twitches.
     “That seems...fair,” you don’t sound so confident either, afraid of ruining the friendship.
     But that seems to have gone to shit pretty quick.
     You lick your lips, turning your head to face Bucky as he’s already looking at you.
     “Yeah,” you nod your head, “okay.”
     He smiles, reaching into his beside table, coming back with a bottle of lube and offering you some.
     “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right,” he scoffs, squeezing some into your palm before doing the same for him.
     You take a moment to admire him, his flesh hand going to wrap around his cock as his metal prosthetic is barely touching your thigh.
     The lube is cold, a soft gasp passing through your lips as you spread it over yourself.
     It doesn’t take much to get your breathing ragged as Bucky rubs the head of his cock and moans almost directly in your ear.
     “Bucky,” you whisper as he turns his head to you, “can you put your arm over me? It’s really hot.”
     He smiles again, complying as he drapes the thick and heavy arm against your tummy. You moan at the coolness against your hot skin as your legs drop against his.
     “Better?” He rasps, “much.” You reply.
     Your breathing catches in your throat, moan replacing it when your fingers find your clit. You can hear Bucky’s ragged breaths as he lets out a curse.
     “Fuck, Sweets why didn’t we start doin’ this sooner?” He groans, hearing the way he’s stroking his cock.
     You hope it’s a rhetorical question because you’re far too focused on the bubbling feeling of your orgasm as you glance at the way his cock stands tall in his grasp.
     “God, Bucky,” his name comes as a long, drawn out whimper.
     “‘M gonna come,” you sigh, on the brink of your peak as Bucky’s mouth falls open.
     “Go on Sweets, you deserve it,” his voice is low and hoarse as the heavy weight of his metal arm adds that bit of pressure to your lower tummy before the feeling finally snaps.
     Your legs tighten around your own hand as you sink deeper into the bed, enjoying the strength of your orgasm before Bucky’s pants and grunts take your attention and you’re watching him paint his toned chest.
     There’s nothing you can really say as you catch your breath, realizing just what’s happened.
     But you’ve never been left more satisfied, turning to face Bucky who looks starstruck and in awe.
     “This might be my best idea yet, Sweets,” he smirks, voice still hoarse from the late hour in the night as you roll your eyes playfully.
     “I hate agree with you, Barnes, but yeah,” you’re still out of breath. “This was a damn good idea.”
     You don’t spent the night, you don’t see any reason to. Slowly, crawling out of his bed and into the bathroom silently anxiously awaiting what he say in the morning.
     Most importantly, if he would regret it.
     That morning came, a mug of your favourite beverage in hand as Bucky stumbled out of the shower in nothing but his fucking towel.
     “So last night was fun,” he smirked and leave it to Bucky Barnes and his God complex to fuel his ego.
     “I think we should turn it into a regular thing,” he then adds, venturing into his bedroom but keeping the door open as he dropped his towel exposing his bare ass.
     Not like you’ve never seen it.
     “What, you wanna have a masturbation schedule?” You’re half joking as he pulls on a pair of boxers and turns around rolling his eyes at your comment playfully.
     “No, not a schedule. But whenever we’re in the mood, we just...masturbate together,” he offers, coming into the kitchen to grab orange juice out of the fridge.
     You have to think on his words, quickly trying to weigh out the pro’s and con’s but the only thing that comes to mind is how hard you came last night.
     “Deal.” You finally say, outstretching your hand for him to shake.
     “It’s a deal then, Sweets.”
     Part of you thought that it would never happen again, that this was just another one of Bucky’s outrageous ideas, but it did.
     It happened again, and again, and again until became such a normal part of your routine that neither of you batted an eye at it.
     There were weeks where you were particularly insatiable, but Bucky never complained. There were also weeks were Bucky needed a little bit more attention and you were happy to help.
     It turned into something so natural, something that fulfilled you that you stopped trying to find lame hookups and awkward dates.
     You didn’t realize the time when your phone vibrated, a text from Bucky displayed on the screen.
     wanna masturbate?
     The text would’ve caught you off guard months ago, but no you just fished for your vibrator before skipping into Bucky’s room and throwing yourself onto his bed.
     “That was fast,” he chuckled as you shrugged your shoulders, “could say the same about you.” You winked playfully as he scoffed.
     You shimmied your pants and underwear down, tossing your shirt over your head as Bucky just removed his covers to his already hardening cock.
     That was something you’d never get used to. The only thing that was going through your head was his cock and the way it would feel inside of you.
     “Hey, um, I was thinkin’ we could maybe try something new tonight?” Bucky squeaked, a departure from his usual cocky and confident nature.
     You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him, giving him a look that said go on.
     “I was thinkin’ that maybe tonight,” he seemed nervous as he bit his lip. “That we could help each other out more.”
     You were surprised at his words, your stomach flipping when you connected the dots to what it was that he wanted to try.
     And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited.
     “Yeah,” you nodded your head, “okay.”
     He smiled, letting you lie back down against his pillow.
     “Just relax for me, Sweets, I’ll take care of you tonight.” He whispered, words gentle and soft as you felt him spreading your legs.
     “Do you think you can do what I tell you, Sweets?” There’s a sudden shift in his tone, voice low as his words rumble.
     You nod your head, eyes closed in anticipation as you can feel yourself growing wetter.
     “Okay, I want you to start slow, yeah? Use your fingers baby, get yourself nice and warmed up.” He cooes, watching as you let your fingers fall between your legs.
     You run them through your folds, collecting your slick as you tease your clit with light touches while you feel Bucky’s hands massaging your thighs.
     “Good girl, Sweets. Just like that, nice and slow—want you to hear just how wet you get.” You’d never heard this Bucky before, but it made your stomach flip in excitement as you played with yourself.
     “Bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” He teases, his hands travelling up your tummy until they’re on your breast making you mewl under him.
     “Uh uh, I didn’t say you could have your fingers yet, did I Sweets?” He stops your hand by your wrist, tugging it back up to your clit as you shudder at the sudden authority in his voice.
     “I know you want them, but I think you’ll enjoy mine stuffing you just a little more,” he purrs, kissing your shoulder as his metal hand travels back down to where you’re circling your clit.
     “Look at that, soaked already?” He taunts, coating his fingers with you before he’s teasing your entrance.
     It’s getting harder to focus on your clit, wanting you fall back and enjoy the way Bucky’s cold, thick, and heavy fingers feel against you.
     “Oh Sweets, I didn’t give you permission to stop playing with yourself.” He almost mocks, your chest falling and rising quickly as you let out a whine.
     “Good girl, just like that. Nice and slow while I stretch you out.” His words hit you hard, fingers sinking into you as you let out an obscene moan.
     He feels so much better than your own fingers—longer and thicker as they can reach that one spot you never could on your own.
     “I can feel you squeezin’ me, but you can’t come just yet.” He whispers, slowly pumping them in and out of you—curling against you g-spot.
     You’re biting your lip so hard you think you’ll have permanent indents from your teeth by the time the night is done.
     “How do my fingers feel, Sweets?” He teases, “do you feel full? Absolutely stuffed?”
     His words, the way his fingers are fucking you, and your own fingers are too much as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.
     “Bucky, please. I-I wanna come,” you whimper, head lolling to the side as your toes curl into his mattress.
     You open your eyes, mouth open as you see the way he’s got his one hand wrapped around his own cock—pumping himself while the other is knuckle deep inside of you.
     It only makes your walls flutter around him, a silent plea to let you come.
     “I know Sweets I know,” his fingers still inside of you, “but it’s gonna feel so much better this way.” You shiver when you realize what he’s doing.
     He’s edging you—building it up just to let it dissipate until he does it all over again.
     “Bucky,” you’re not past begging if it’ll get his fingers moving again.
     He smirks, looking down at you before he’s moving his fingers again. It doesn’t take long for the feeling to build back up again until...
     “Not just yet, Sweets.” You groan, whining as he stops your own hand against your clit so you’re left lying there with an aching core.
     You try to move your hips upwards, but Bucky’s much stronger and keeps them planted against the bed.
     “One more Sweets, just one more,” he promises, starting to move his fingers inside of you again.
     “Go on, use your fingers, I’ll tell you when to stop.” You do what he says, rubbing your clit until you feel his hand around your wrist again.
     “You’re doin’ so good,” he purrs, his own cock leaking pre-cum as he removes his flesh hand from your wrist to wrap it around himself.
     Your skin feels like it’s on fire, right on the brink of your orgasm as he slowly starts to tease you with his fingers again.
     “I know, Sweets, I can feel how badly you need to come,” he rasps, stroking his cock as he plunges his fingers deeper and deeper while your fingers are on your clit.
     “Oh that’s it, come for me. Need you to come for me,” he groans as you let yourself go, feeling the scorching hot pleasure run through your body as Bucky moans—painting his chest with his cum.
     Your body is still shuddering with aftershocks, limbs light as you find the strength to open your eyes and look at Bucky and his pink parted lips.
     “That was fun,” you whisper, Bucky turning his head to face you with a sly smile.
     “Maybe tomorrow we can try something else, I have a feeling my cock might feel better than my fingers.”
7K notes · View notes
angrythingstarlight · 9 days ago
im seeing something i like
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Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Little bit o' smut, needy, whiny Bucky
A/N: Just a little something until I get back to my laptop. No minors.
“I have to go,” you say, gently shaking off the vibranium hand around your ankle. Laughter bubbling up when he only groans in response.
Bending over you grab your shirt from under the kitchen chair, you start to pull it on, then a dull thud has you turning your head, “Did you-did you just kick the floor?”
Bucky glares up at you with baleful eyes. “Maybe.”
Clutching the wrinkled shirt to your bare chest, you roll your eyes at the pouting super soldier. “Bucky, we spent all weekend together-“ You start, ignoring his loud huff. “-I promised my friends that I would go out for one drink and I....”
You swallow, your mouth going dry as you watch him pull his cock out of tight black briefs. “Bucky, stop it.” you finish weakly.
He tilts his chin up, his ocean blue eyes ensnaring yours and he moans your name, it’s sweet and sinful, as if he’s tasting it, tasting you with each slow swipe of tongue across his bottom lip. Then you remember he is and your knees nearly buckle as he wipes your slick from his chin and smears it over his cock.
He’s so filthy.
Bucky twists his hand around his shaft, precum dripping down from the red, swollen tip.
And he moans your name again.
Louder, vulgar sounds emitting from his chest, his hips rutting into his palm. Thick, long fingers laced around his throbbing cock. “You’re really gonna leave me, Plum.”
You want to tear your eyes away but you can’t. Not with his back arching off the ground, soft grunts mingled with your name filling the early morning air. You bite back a needy gasp when he lets his cock go, fisting his hands at his sides. “I can’t finish,” he gazes up at you, a deep wrinkle forming between his furrowed brows.
Bucky reaches out for you. “My hand isn’t as good as your pussy.” Oh fuck, the way he says that has you trembling. “I need you Plum, need your tight wet warm pussy around my cock.” He doesn’t play fair at all, you’re practically preening at his praise. “You feel so good, doll, so fucking good, please don’t leave me.”
Bucky stretches his legs out, patting his thighs. “Why don’t you let me show you how fucking good you feel Plum?”
You don’t realize you were walking back to him, drawn back into his orbit with each filthy word until he sat up, hands smoothing up your thighs, his breath washing over your glistening cunt before he tugs you down over him.
“Oh Buc-,” you cry out as he pushes you down, down “just a little more plum there you go, until his thick throbbing cock is buried in you, the first stretch knocking your breath out of your chest until you’re panting.
Bucky wraps his arms around your back, pulling you into his warm chest. “Now I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll never think about leaving me again.”
and I-
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buckysboobs · 3 months ago
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Raw | bucky barnes
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pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: she just wants bucky to fucking destroy her insides and rearrange her guts, but bucky's scared so he rejects her before another one of their love making sessions. she gets mad so making him jealous is the only way left to get him to fulfill her fantasies.
warnings: jealous!bucky, possessive!bucky, rough sex, breeding kink if you squint, strong language, degradation, a little angst, slapping, spit kink, angry bucky, choking, unprotected sex (wrap y'alls fucking sausages you guys) bucky calls reader 'little girl' i think that needs a warning of it's own
DO NOT REPOST OR STEAL MY WORK OR I'LL FIND YOU.
She can feel his eyes on her figure as she dances; her hips sinfully pressing against the stranger's front, his fingers dancing over her exposed waist and lips placing open mouthed kisses against her sweaty neck.
She's playing with fire, she knows it. Knows how jealous Bucky gets when he sees her with another man. But she wants him, not his unsure touches and gentle fingers that treated her like a porcelain doll— no.
She wanted his rough movements. She wanted his stubble to scrape against her inner thighs. His teeth to nibble at her skin, fingers calloused from fights to pinch every part of hers that was calling out to him— she wanted him to corrupt her. Break her. Make her reach her limits, though she feels like with him she doesn't have any. She wants him to fucking ruin her.
Her eyes make contact with his dazzling blue ones, which, even in the dark club seem to be shining more than ever. The red and blue neon lights cast shadows over his figure as his jaw clenches, grip tightening on the glass he seems to be holding but not bothering to take a sip from ever since he got there with the rest of the gang.
To provoke him further, she reaches out behind her and grips the stranger's head, pulling him closer to her. With a slight upward curve of her red tainted lips, she smirks at him and he breaks.
She feels him before she can see him. His metal arm grips her waist, and with one glare at the stranger he has her pressed against himself. His flesh hand finds it's way into her hair and he yanks her head back, nostrils flaring when he sees her smirk grow wider.
"It's not been one day and you're acting like a fuckin' whore." He breathes out right into her ear, "And just because I rejected you? Pathetic, even for you."
His tone is fucking condescending and it makes her blood boil. She pushes him away with all her strength and flips her hair, scoffing up at him.
"Don't flatter yourself, Barnes. Rejected me?" She huffs out a bitter laugh, "I always knew you'd come running back to me. No other girl can make your dick hard the way I can."
His eyes darken immensely. She realizes that the two of them are having a full possessive fight in the middle of the dancefloor and before she manages to embarrass herself by continuing the fight which would probably end up with her on her knees and his cock in her mouth, she glares at him and walks away.
She knows that he'd follow her. Which is why she chooses to go right into the bathroom where they'll have a chance at privacy.
She was right, because as soon as she's looking into the mirror to fix her hair, she hears the lock click and sees Bucky leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest.
"You make me sick." She stares at him in the mirror.
"I could say the same about ya."
She grinds her teeth, "I'm sick of you pretending that you don't want me."
Bucky huffs out a sarcastic chuckle at that, shaking his head in disbelief, "What part of 'I will absolutely destroy you' can't get through your thick skull? You can't possibly expect me to lose control around you, no matter how fuckin' hard it is."
She turns around to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. "What part of 'I want you to destroy me' do you not understand, James? I've done fucking everything to make you understand that I can protect myself, that i'm sure you will never hurt me. I'm tired of you treating me like a doll that would break with the slightest of touches. I see it in your eyes how much you want to fulfill my dreams and fantasies, but holding yourself back just because you think I can't hold my own is pretty dumb of you, I must say."
Bucky sighs, glancing down at the floor, "You have no idea how I get when I lose control."
"Then fucking show me." His head snaps up, "Or I won't expect you to be there to watch and come swooping in the next time I go whoring around looking for someone who fucks me like a bitch in hea—"
She doesn't get the chance to finish as she's pressed against the wall, metal arm against her throat and a furious Bucky glaring into her eyes.
"I'm not fuckin' leavin' you alone ever again. Not even after that empty threat." He swallows hard, tightening his grip around her throat as her lips fall open, "You're mine."
A dry chuckle leaves her mouth, she sounds like she's choking but for some reason even that is attractive to Bucky, "Prove it."
His lips crash into hers and he hoists her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as her arms wrap around his neck. He prods her lips with his tongue, nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth making her gasp before his tongue enters her mouth and explores every inch of her sweetness. They're breathing hard through their nose, revelling in each other's taste. She can feel his dick hardening and he presses it hard against her clothed cunt, making a throaty moan escape her parted lips.
"Bucky, please—" she begs as he starts kissing down her neck, his teeth nibbling on her collarbone, hands trying to unzip his jeans. She's panting hard, eyes closed and Bucky really wants to ravish her right there, against the cold and dirty wall.
"I won't be able to stop." He whispers against her skin and she helps him pull himself out of his pants.
"Fucking don't."
That's all it takes him before he runs his hands up her legs and thrusts his whole cock inside her without any prep. She cries out in a sweet mixture of pain and pleasure, but he doesn't give her time to adjust before he's fucking her raw without so much as a thought. He's fucking her like an animal— loud grunts leaving his mouth as her hands scramble to hold onto him. He doesn't have any of it though, takes both of them with one hand and holds them over her head as his metal arm wraps around her throat again, fucking her to the point she starts crying.
"Fuck, Bucky!" she cries out and he throws his head back, eyes closing shut.
"This is what you wanted, right?" He thrusts harder, angling his hips better so his dick presses right into her g-spot, making her gasp, "Me using you as nothing but a fucktoy, my thick cock fuckin' ruining that sloppy cunt of yours till you beg me to stop?"
His dirty mouth keeps her going as she feels herself getting close. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to get out of his tight grip because she just wants to touch him but he's not letting her. He groans loudly on hearing her moan his name like a prayer— bucky bucky bucky please bucky.
Her legs feel like jello when he speaks up next, "Open your mouth, little girl."
She obeys, slipping into her submissive role. He spits into her mouth.
Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she swallows and opens her mouth again, but before she knows it his metal arm connects with her cheek and she's abruptly facing towards the right.
She cries out at the burn.
"Don't be a fuckin—" he accentuates his words with a harsh thrust, "Greedy bitch and take what I give you."
He doesn't let her breathe, hips snapping so rapidly into hers, dick piercing through her tight little cunt and her fluids dripping all over her thighs— she's about to cum.
"Bucky— fuck, Bucky i'm about to cum—"
"Hold it."
She starts crying at that, fresh angry tears rolling down her cheeks and ruining all her makeup. She slams her head back into the wall, "Bucky please."
"I said hold it, little girl."
She starts begging even more, completely letting go of her pride and dignity as she cries about him not letting her cum. All that escapes her lips is a string of let me cum i can't take it please bucky, please and he smirks at that, shoving his fingers into her throat.
"That will shut you up for a while. This is what you wanted anyways, fuckin' bitch." She gags on his fingers, her pussy clenching sinfully around his cock, making him moan. "Why beg me to fuck you like a whore— fuck— when you can't take it, huh?"
She moans around his fingers, spit running down her chin as her pussy keeps clenching around his abnormally large and thick cock. She's eternally grateful to all the gods when he orders her to cum.
And fucking hell— she's never had an orgasm that powerful before. She sees stars as her whole body tenses up, an embarrassing groan leaving her throat as the milky white fluid runs down her pussy in such a filthy manner, even the kinkiest of the bunch would have looked away.
That doesn't stop Bucky from thrusting into her. He goes even faster as her body goes limp in his arms, using her pussy as a means to achieve his own well earned orgasm. Her cum works as lube, sliding in and out of her even easier and his energy doesn't falter when he holds her against the wall by the throat and breeds her like a bitch in heat.
With a last groan, he spills into her, thrusts turning sloppier as her pussy milks his cock like there's no tomorrow. She whimpers and he slowly and carefully pulls out of her, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. He offers her support with one arm while zipping his jeans with the other, and then pulls her into his arms.
"Fuck." she whispers and he cradles her head against his chest. Without another word, he hoists her up and walks out of the bathroom, where there were a few angry teenagers waiting for them to get the hell out.
Steve, Natasha and Sam give their passing figures a knowing smile as he walks out of the club and offers to get her home— and when she gives him a lazy smile in return, he feels his heart skip a beat.
Love is a fucking bitch.
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buckyblues · 3 months ago
Imagine Bucky having a staring contest with a baby or a baby being enthralled by his metallic fingers or playing with his dog tags 🌚
this is so cute... what the actual hell. not to be over dramatic, but i need to have bucky’s kids right now.
warnings; fluff, bucky with a baby, dilf bucky, this is so cute i sobbed.
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“I’ll get it,” you groaned as your baby’s cries rung through the monitor.
“No, no,” Bucky softly pushed you back onto the mattress. “I can handle this.”
It had to be sometime around three in the morning. Everything in the room was still dark, and you had almost gotten two uninterrupted hours of sleep.
“She’s so rowdy,” you looked to your husband as the monitor started going off again.
“I bet she gets it from you.”
Bucky slid out from bed in only his sweatpants and dog tags, messy hair and muscular back on display. “Starin’ is rude, babe,” he yawns.
He heads into the nursery. It’s constellation-themed, and he can still remember the joy he felt picking out decorations at the store when your daughter was on the way.
“How are you, little one?” Bucky leans over the basinet.
She lets out another wail, much to Bucky’s displeasure.
“None of that, bubs,” he whispers. “I’m here.”
He picks her up, cradling her in his arms. Her tiny hands reach for his vibranium fingers.
“You think that’s cool?” His arm whirs as he rocks her.
She giggles a little, it’s one of the few sounds she makes, and Bucky absolutely adores it.
Bucky gives her a kiss on the forehead. “I can’t believe you woke me up at this hour.”
It almost looks like she’s pouting, even though he doubts she can understand what he’s saying. She grabs at his dog tags, enamored by the jingling noise that they make.
She’s so delicate, Bucky thinks. He wants to do everything in the world to protect her. He never wants her to have a sleepless night. Ever since he first heard her heartbeat, he’s been completely dedicated to her.
“You got her to stop crying,” Bucky hears you laugh from the doorway of the nursery.
“Why are you awake, doll?” He asks.
Bucky is perfect — standing there, your daughter nestled in his arms. It’s the little things he does that make you fall more in love with him.
“Just wanted to see my two favorite people.”
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lokigonnakmsforbucky · 3 months ago
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Okay, something I never tolerate is people sending people death threats. I have seen a ton of people saying that Wyatt Russell (left) the man who plays John Walker(right) in the new Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Is receiving death threats for absolutely no reason, other than DOING his job. If you hate his character, he is doing his job correctly which is to act. That does not give anyone the right to send him death threats. Hate his character, not him.
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bucksfucks · 3 months ago
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    𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚𝙙 ; 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀
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abstract ; when your boyfriend dumps you over text you end up at bucky’s door. 
pairing ; dad’sbestfriend!bucky x f!reader
word count ; 2,826 words 
content warnings ; significant & undefined age-gap [reader is early 20’s & bucky is late 30’s], cheating [implied], breakups, soft angst, comforting, praise kink, multiple orgasms, squirting, kitten kink, pet-name [kitten], slight corruption kink, bucky goes down on reader, blowjobs, soft sex where reader and bucky feel connected, an ending that was meant for fairytales — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI
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PART TWO | PART THREE
   You felt tears pricking your eyes as you re-read the single, two word text that would surely haunt you in your dreams. 
   It’s over. 
   No explanation, no apologies, your heart sinking into your stomach as you felt the familiar wave of nausea wash over you before you tossed your phone onto your bed and choked out a single sob. 
   “Fuck you, John.” You spat viciously as you grabbed for the nearest hoodie you could find. It was ironically one of his old varsity football sweaters, but it didn’t smell like him anymore. 
   You hadn’t seen him in over two months, the distance was apparently too hard for him to deal with. It didn’t seem to stop him when he wanted to travel to a party nearly a state away. 
   The images of his Snapchat stories flashed in your mind as you shoved the first pair of shoes you could find; old, worn out and barely white Converse you bought in your first year of college. 
   You shook your head as you grabbed your keys, your school logo littering it as you slammed the door shut and catapulted yourself into your car where you finally let yourself feel, feel the way he broke you. 
   The engine sputtered to life, adjusting your rearview mirror until you caught a glimpse of your mascara stained cheeks, red eyes, and stuffy nose. 
   It didn’t matter where you went, as long as you were far away and pre-occupied with something other than your thoughts. The thoughts of who he might’ve, no who he definitely cheated on you with. 
   You remembered when you first moved into your first year dorm, your dad helping you pack up way too many things before the u-haul was loaded up and you were headed to finally start your life. 
   Bucky was there too. 
   He was the jackass on the road tailing the too-full u-haul in his Impala with his windows down and his hair blowing in the early September heat. 
   You didn’t know much about Bucky. You knew that he and your dad went way back, but how far back? You never asked. 
   He was never a constant in your life until he helped you re-arrange your dorm furniture. 
   You like that, Kid? His words echoed in your head as you drove through the dark, late night streets. 
   Why you were so adamant on proving that you were the hard, badass character that you always saw Bucky as was a mystery to you
   Maybe it was because you saw the way the other girls on campus looked at him as you walked him down to say goodbye and thank you for the help. 
   Were you jealous? You didn’t realize it at the time, but you very clearly were. You had no autonomy over Bucky, but he was yours. 
   Try not to get into too much trouble, Kid. But if you do, make sure to memorize my number. He had told you with a wink, giving you a squeeze before climbing back into his car and roaring down the streets until you couldn’t see him anymore. 
   And you did get in trouble. 
   You remember calling him when you thought you were gonna flunk out, missing an assignment until Bucky talked you through it. 
   You had called him drunk countless times, giggling over the phone and waking up to a text from Bucky to take some Advil and chug a glass of water before it was too late.
   So maybe that’s why you weren’t really surprised when you ended up at his house, rapping your knuckles against his front door hoping that he would still be awake to let you in. 
   “What’re you doin’ here, Kid?” He asked, immediately stepping aside to let you in. 
   You walked in without saying a word, toeing your shoes off as Bucky placed a hand on your shoulder to tilt your head up with a warm finger.
   He furrowed his brows, watching a tear fall from your eye before wrapping you in a hug so tight you figured it would put you to sleep right then and there. 
   Cedar wood and the smell of faint campfire and it made you sob harder; you didn’t know why. 
   “What trouble did you get in this time, Kid?” He chuckled weakly, trying to lighten the situation as he brushed your tears away with his thumb. 
   “He broke up with me. Over text.” You spat, shaking your head as you wiped your nose with the back of your hand watching as Bucky clenched his jaw. 
   Bucky didn’t say anything, just pulled you in for another bone crushing hug before you had to escape it for air. 
   “You know I hate him, right?” He asked rhetorically as you cracked a half smile, “never liked the guy, Josh is a stupid name anyways.” 
   “It’s John, Bucky.” You corrected him as he rolled his eyes, “whatever, not like he ever treated you like you deserve.” 
   His words made your heart flutter and clench all at the same time. You had never wanted anything more than for someone to care for you, to truly love you. 
   It was clear that John never did. 
   “You’re better without him, you know that, right?” Bucky said, holding you by your shoulders so you had to look him in the eyes. 
   You nodded weakly, “yeah.” 
   “I’m serious. I have half a mind about findin’ the kid and giving him a piece of my mind.” Bucky huffed, “then who’ll bail me out of trouble.” You joked, finally laughing as Bucky’s features softened. 
   “C’mon, I’ll make you some tea.” 
   You followed him into the kitchen, knowing the layout of his house far too well as you hopped up onto the counter to watch him work. 
   He was wearing a pair of loose joggers and a plain white shirt, the low whir of his prosthetic filling the silence as you took a moment to watch the gold specks gleam under the kitchen lights. 
   “Here, don’t worry about him.” Bucky said, handing you the hot cup a you accepted it cautiously. 
   “That’s it, I’m never dating anyone close to my age ever again.” You grumble, setting the cup down beside you as Bucky looks at you with an amused look on his face. 
   “Not like I’m losing out on anything, he could never please me anyways.” You mumble under your breath as you swing your legs gently. 
   Bucky shifts from foot to foot, clearing his throat, “never?” 
   His question caught you off-guard, confident that Bucky would just glide past that topic. 
   “Never.” You confirmed as Bucky licked his lower lip. 
   “I can’t believe you’re cryin’ over a guy who never made you come.” He smirked, standing up straighter as you stared daggers at Bucky. 
   “You think I pick them like that? It’s not exactly easy to find a twenty-something guy that’ll last longer than five minutes.” You chide back, finding your heart picking up its pace as Bucky takes a step closer to you. 
   “Well maybe you need’a expand your search a little,” he offers, quirking an eyebrow up as he stands directly in front of you. 
   “You offering, Barnes?” You joke, swallowing thickly when he locks you in place with both of his thick arms. 
   “What? You interested, Kid.” The pet-name comes off different this time around, his voice lower and you can’t decipher the look he has in his eyes; but you want more. 
   “What if I was?” You whisper, specks of grey littering the stubble he has, whiffs of it in the front of his growing locks. 
   His hands travel to rest on your hips, gently as if you test out the waters and you can feel the spark that happens when his nose brushes against yours. 
   “Well then I’d say you came to the right guy,” you had always known Bucky to be cocky, in the quirky, dorky way, but the way the words were going straight to your core made you feel like absolute putty in his hands. 
   “You poor little thing,” he hums, “stuck in a relationship with a dead-beat who could never make you come.” 
   His words send a shiver down your spine. The air in the room growing thick and hot as you move your hand to tangle in his shirt. 
   “That’s ‘cause he never took the time to get to know your body, did he?” He asks as you shake your head, “never worshipped the way you would moan for him?” Again, you shook your head. 
   “That’s too bad for him,” he smirks, “because I’m about to ruin all men for you, Angel.” 
   You gasp when he presses his lips to yours, fingers tangled in his hair as he takes all the breath in your lungs with him. You’re consumed by him in that moment, dizzy and floating with lust. 
   “Bucky,” you whimper, trying to tug him back down to your lips, wanting to feel the prick of his stubble against your skin. 
   He takes a step away from you, taking in the way your chest is rising and falling, your lips still wet from his own lips. 
   You both stumble into his room, knocking into various objects; some falling to the floor and other objects imprinting their own bruises on your skin. 
   “This his?” He asks, gripping the fabric of your sweater. You swallow, “yes.” 
   “Get rid of it.” He growls, prosthetic fingers ripping it off your body with little effort before it falls at your feet with a soft thud. 
   “I hate seein’ you in his clothes. Never liked it.” He confesses, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into his body. 
   You can feel his warmth through his shirt, goosebumps all over your skin as you ache to feel his skin on yours.
   “You look a hell of a lot better with nothin’ on,” he smirks, “it’s only fair that you do the same.” You whisper, tugging at the hem of his shirt before it’s joining the pile of your clothes on the floor.
   Your eyes trace the hard outline of his muscles, the ridges and bumps of where his prosthetic meets his shoulder.
   “It’s a sight for sore eyes, I know, darling.” He rasps, turning your head so you meet his eyes. You swallow back the lump in your throat, how could he think he’s anything less than perfect?
   “You’re beautiful,” you mumble, his thumb resting on your bottom lip. It’s cool and heavy, indenting the spot where you want his lips.
   Even in the dark light of the night, you can see the faint blush that tints his cheeks. It’s soft and subtle, Bucky’s vulnerability shining through.
   “I’ve never thought of you as anything but,” maybe it’s the broken heart, or maybe it’s the fact that you saw in Bucky what he never saw in himself; beauty. 
   He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to say anything with the kiss he gave you. Passionate and soul-pouring as he meshed with your body better than anyone ever has. 
   When you slide down to your knees, face met with his growing cock, he stops you. 
   “You don’t have to, darling. Tonight is all about you,” he says softly, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb again until you’re taking it into your mouth. 
   “I want to.”
   He doesn’t need anymore assurance after you’ve tugged off his pants, leaving him in the thin pair of boxers that you slowly drag down his lean legs until his cock bounces free. 
   “Fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back. 
   He bobs gently before you wrap your hand around him, feeling the subtle pulse as you tease him with slow strokes. 
   He can’t get any words out, adam’s apple bobbing with each dry swallow as you move your mouth over his length. 
   “Oh,” the faint moan that leaves his lips encourages you further as you coat him with more and more of your saliva. 
   You can feel how hard he is, the twitch of his cock as you hollow out your cheeks until—
   “That’s enough fun for you, Kitten.” He growls, tugging you up and throwing you onto his bed where he wastes no time stripping you of the remainder of your clothing. 
   You ache at the sound of the pet-name Kitten, shocks going through you when he settles between your thighs. 
   “So, he’s never made you cum?” He smirks, cocky and full of himself as you shake your head, “no.”
   “Then I can’t wait to taste you and have you screamin’ until you lose your voice,” that’s the only warning you get before he’s diving in. 
   It shocks you, the feeling of his hot tongue against your core, so much so that you gasp as he finds your clit. 
   You barely have time to catch your breath, tugging at his hair when he slips two metal fingers deep inside of your cunt. 
   A guttural moan rips through your chest when he curls them inside of you, “that’s it Kitten, don’t hold back.” 
   The vibrations, mixed with the way his stubble burns your thighs adds fuel to the fire that’s already erupted inside of you. 
   You feel dizzy, thighs clenched around Bucky’s head as he continues the delicious assault until your back is arching and your legs are shaking and you can’t stop the pressure that’s built up inside of you. 
   “Holy shit,” Bucky sounds fucked out of his mind as you manage to open your eyes. 
   You’ve never came that hard, not even from one of your toys. 
   “Did you know you could squirt, Kitten?” Bucky’s question causes you to flush as you shake your head; you really didn’t know. 
   His face is wet, lips glistening along with bits of his chest as you try to go and close your legs and open your mouth to apologize. 
   “Don’t you fuckin’ dare try to apologize,” he growls, “‘cause that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
   Bucky’s crawling up to slot your bodies together, capturing your lips in a messy and wet kiss where you can still taste your arousal all over him. 
   You whimper as you feel him against you core, “fuck, Bucky.”
   “I know, it’s alright, I’ve got you,” he cooes, reaching over to the bedside table to grab for a condom. 
   The moment isn’t romantic, but it offers you a moment where you can shamelessly stare and watch him before he’s back over you. 
   “Don’t worry, Kitten, I’ll fuck you.” He smirks, “fuck you until you can’t remember your own goddamn name.” It’s a hushed whisper in your ear as he’s slowly sliding into. 
   The stretch is welcoming, the fullness euphoric as he bottoms out and stills inside of you. You feel something brush your cheekbone, fluttering your eyes open to be met with Bucky’s. 
   “What?” You whisper, afraid that somethings wrong. 
   He chuckles, smiling, “nothin’, just admiring you.” 
   It’s the most intimate moment you’ve been in, your heart swelling in your chest at those words. 
   A moan slips past your lips when Bucky rotates his hips teasingly, grinding impossibly deep into you as you dig your fingernails into his one bicep. 
   “You feel so fuckin’ good,” he groans, moving his hips slowly. You can hear the prosthetic arm making all sorts of bionic sounds as it holds him up. 
   “You like that, don’t you, Kitten?” Bucky purrs lowly into your ear, slightly out of breath as he hikes one of your legs up on his shoulder. 
   It’s toe curling and back arching as he goes to grip his head board, his thrusts getting faster as he furrows his eyebrows in concentration all while he’s drinking in the sight of your body quivering underneath him. 
   “Good,” thrust, “girl,” thrust. 
   Hearing that causes you to nearly lose your mind, grabbing onto whatever you can as Bucky fucks the breath of you. 
   There’s a creak, then there’s a snap, and suddenly there’s a thud as you look up to see Bucky’s headboard now mangled and barely attached to the frame. 
   “Bucky!” You gasp, “don’t care, was cheap anyways.” He grunts, locking your face in with his forearms. 
   “The only thing I care about is gettin’ you to come.” He pants, “can you do that for me, Kitten?” 
   You shudder, any and all thoughts disappearing from your mind as the feeling of Bucky overwhelms you and you’re giving into the feeling. 
   White hot pleasure consumes you, gut wrenching in the best possible way before you feel Bucky’s body collapse on top of you; your name leaving his lips. 
   It’s a soft moment, what happens next. Soft kisses and touches as Bucky makes sure that you’re okay, that you’re fine. 
   And you are. You’ve never felt more like yourself. 
   No one has ever made you feel like he does. 
   “Just stay here, yeah?” Bucky says when you get up to grab your clothes. 
   His hand wraps around your wrist, turning your head over your shoulder before climbing back into bed where you tell yourself you would face the consequences when the sun rose. 
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buckyblues · 2 months ago
Text
ribs , bucky barnes
— (fem!avenger!reader x avenger!bucky)
summary; When Bucky arrives at the compound after years of loneliness, the person he finds comfort in is you.
warnings; fluff, angst, kissing, fools falling for each other, mentions of trauma, some medical stuff, reader likes to steal things.
word count; 2,037
a/n; okay, i had so much fun writing this piece, it’s my baby. enjoy <3 - stellie
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“Hey,” Steve lightly knocked on your open door.
“You’re back,” you set your copy of Frankenstein to the side. It had been a gift from Banner for your birthday.
Steve leaned his broad frame against the wall. “I need you to stay up here for awhile, we brought him back.”
There were a lot of him’s that Steve could have brought back. Hostages, fugitives, ghosts that the government had long forgotten.
“Bucky,” he clarified. “He’s in medical.”
You knew who Bucky was. Former sergeant of the 107th, Steve’s best friend, and recovering Hydra assassin, among other things.
Steve and Sam had been looking for him for months, scrambling and chasing after him to get him to the compound. You were convinced that Bucky would consistently outrun the two for as long as he could, and the government would just catch him first.
“Is he here legally? He’s a wanted criminal,” you looked at Steve like he had five heads.
“Might’ve pulled some strings,” he shrugged. “Just don’t come out of your room, he’s unstable.”
Were they always going to treat you like you couldn’t handle anything around here?
“Rogers,” you huffed as he began to walk out. “I have some of the best medical knowledge in the compound, and you’re makin’ me sit here?”
“Yup,” his feet padded softly across the floor, and you watched him disappear down the stairs.
You flopped onto the bed like a starfish, making a mental list of things you could do to entertain yourself. Nothing really, that was your answer. You should be down there helping the medical team with any wounds Bucky may have, but Steve will scold you silly for leaving your room as soon as he gets the chance.
Well... Steve would get over it.
Thank god you were a trained spy, more or less, because the compound was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Medical would be crowded when you walked in, you’d bet the knife you stole from Nat’s collection that Bucky was strapped down to a bed as someone tried to bandage his nasty cuts.
Your instincts proved right.
Bucky was groaning, calling out for something you didn’t understand, legs and arms strapped down. He’s unstable, that’s what Steve said. Steve has a hand on Bucky’s shoulder in a weak attempt to comfort him as the medical personnel rid him of the caked dirt and blood on his skin.
You should be slapped over the face for being so curious, but Bucky has always fascinated you. Sam is in the corner of the the room with his head down, and you remember looking over Bucky’s records with him late at night, or that trip to the Smithsonian to see if you could catch Bucky lurking at his own memorial.
Something about Bucky was beautiful. Broken, but still beautiful. You can’t register it now as hot tears streak down his face, but it clicked with you when you read about him, or when Steve told stories.
“What did I tell you?” Suddenly Steve was stood over you, arms crossed.
“Oh... Captain,” you shoved your hands in the pockets of your hoodie. “I was just—“
Bucky groaned and cried out in pain. Sam tried to do what Steve had done, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. He didn’t seem like the touchy-feely type.
“He could lash out at you,” Steve blocked your view of the hospital bed. “He doesn’t know who you are.”
“So? I’m the only person that can really help with his stitches. He’s hurting.”
“Fine,” Steve said through gritted teeth. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
You walked through the small crowd of nurses tending to Bucky, and naturally, they let you through. A prodigy, that’s the word they liked to throw around, with an organic understanding of human anatomy. The whole compound was surprised you had never gone to med school, and that you just preferred to play checkers with Wanda or help Sam on a mission.
“It’s okay,” you whispered, observing the deep gash down the inside of his right arm. “Can I touch you?”
Bucky thrashed around again, and Sam backed away. “Y/N, he’s having a moment. I wouldn’t go near him.”
“Sam, I have to seal that up,” you disregarded the danger you were in. “He’ll get an infection.”
The infamous Winter Soldier, and he just stared up at you with glassy blue eyes and fearful expression. He mumbled incoherent things under his breath, you wanted nothing more than to understand him.
It seemed like he hadn’t been understood in an awfully long time.
You grabbed all your things from the table to quickly mend him, holding a bandage between your teeth. He fought you, his metal arm tearing one of the restraints, but Bucky eventually let up.
“Relax, Buck,” Steve urged him from behind you.
“All done,” you smile and step away. “Everything else looks fine, you can handle it?”
Steve simply nodded, and you went back to your room.
A week had passed by since Steve brought Bucky to the compound. The air got cold and it rained almost everyday, which meant morning runs were no longer on your daily agenda.
You hadn’t seen Bucky come out of his room. It wasn’t surprising, Sam mumbled a few things here and there about him having a hard time adjusting, that he still got erratic. Being used as a human weapon for over half a century will do that to you.
Being on a mission would’ve been ideal right now. You’re bored in the compound, like a sad princess in her ivory tower. A knock on your door stirred you out of your haze.
“It’s open,” you flipped to the next page of your book. It’s about surgical history, you figured the medical team downstairs wouldn’t miss it from their decorative bookshelf.
Bucky stood in your doorway, looking slightly less upset than the last time you saw him.
“Steve told me this was your room,” he swallowed. “I’m across the hall.”
“I know,” you stared at him for a bit too long. It was strange, hearing him speak.
He pulled his shirt sleeve up, showing you the stitches you had made not long ago. “Can you check these?”
“Of course,” you patted the space on the mattress beside you. “Sit for me.”
Bucky sat down, eyeing his arm where the stitches were. His dark hair fell in his face, and you wanted so badly to push it behind his ears, to see him.
You checked the area around the stitches, making sure they were all intact and that nothing was infected. You had told Steve to make sure Bucky puts Neosporin around the wound every night, and it looked like he had been doing just that.
“Looks fine,” you took your hand away from his arm. “I can take them out soon.”
“Thanks,” he pulled his sleeve back in place. “I hope I didn’t bother you.”
“Not at all,” god, the way you wanted to reach out and touch him.
Bucky’s eyes shifted to yours, glimmering blue.
“When can I come back? For you to take them out?” He asked.
You let out a breath. “Three days.”
He stayed like that for awhile, just looking at you. Maybe he’s searching for something, perhaps fear. You’re not afraid of him.
Your hand moved to his face. That could be considered a calculated mistake. Bucky flinched, his metal hand balling in a tight fist. You brushed the long hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his left ear.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” you whispered.
His face warmed up a little bit. “What if I hurt you first?”
“I’ll try and calm you down. I’m not hurting you back.”
“That’s a bad idea.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you sighed.
Bucky nuzzled into your hand that was cupping his jaw. “I should go back to my room.”
“You can stay.”
No one knew why you and Bucky held hands all the time, so no one said anything.
Steve thought he had the right to know, and that maybe he could press his best friend for some answers. Was it a thing? No, you did it for solace. Bucky liked having something to hold.
Bucky Barnes had been a constant in your life for a few weeks. He enjoyed your company just as much as you enjoyed his, it probably had something to do with your lone wolf personalities. You were happy to be a part of his recovery, even if you found he didn’t say much.
“They healed really nice,” you ran a finger over where his stitches used to be.
His eyes looked more innocent than you’ve ever seen before. He was focusing on not flinching, you knew that. Bucky was still getting used to you touching him so often.
“If I ever need them again,” he squeezed your hand in his. “Can you do it for me up here?”
You nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t like seeing you strapped down to that bed.”
He wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. If he ever got treated like that again, you’d lose your mind.
“Why aren’t you a doctor?” Bucky squinted at you in curiosity.
“I wanted to be a surgeon,” you answered. “But being a spy paid more, I guess. Now I’m here.”
He didn’t have a counter for that, just listened. You liked that about him, he’s a good listener. He listened to you read books aloud so he could fall asleep to the sound of your voice, he listened to you talk about your favorite things even though he didn’t always understand them.
When Bucky first came to the compound, he was covered in bruises and cuts. Now, almost a month later, he looked a lot more at peace, physically and mentally. It’s like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
“It feels nice, being here with you,” his metal hand came up to stroke your cheek. “I was thinkin’ about staying locked in my room forever.”
You chuckled. “You’ll get used to everyone else.”
Something inside you ached. You just wanted to be close to him. There was that pang of guilt inside of you, telling you no, that he’d get scared if you did such a thing and it would be all your fault for wrecking his progress.
You moved closer to him so your nose was touching his. “I kinda hope that I’m your favorite.”
“You are,” he hummed, lips brushing against yours and giggling. “Don’t tell Steve.”
There’s nothing you’d rather do than hold him for the rest of your life when he giggles. It’s the most precious thing on earth, he’s letting himself be free.
“Bucky,” you buried the side of your face into your pillow. “Are you feeling okay?”
No answer, just his chapped lips pressed to yours. It felt inexperienced and static, but butterflies filled your stomach nonetheless.
“I wanted to do that with you,” he admitted.
You brought him back into a deeper kiss, still chaste, but more like what you believed he was striving for. He vaguely remembers the feeling of someone’s lips, back in the forties. His body is perfect, molding against yours like you were made for each other.
It’s so nice and warm that your toes curl a bit. The kind of long, sweet kiss that makes your brain reduce to mush, that’s what it was. You really don’t want to come up for air, he is air, that’s what you think.
You did eventually have to breathe, and you just held him for awhile. You stared at him too, shamelessly. That’s a perk of getting to be alone with Bucky.
“Thanks for letting me in here,” you poked at his chest.
He didn’t understand. “Where?”
“That big heart of yours,” you blushed.
Bucky wrapped his big arms around you tighter. He wanted to cry, or melt, but in a good way. He was still working on conveying his emotions. “Thanks for being my friend.”
“I don’t think we’re just friends anymore.”
A goofy smile spread across his face, his eyes crinkling at the sides. There was nothing more beautiful in the entire universe.
And he’s in your arms.
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angrythingstarlight · 24 days ago
I've been thinking about a priest trying to "save" the reader from demon Bucky, only to fail miserably and gets forced to watch Bucky fuck the reader in his own church
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Pairing: Demon Bucky x reader
Warnings: Smut, kinda public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism Minors DNI.
Word count: less than 1.5 k (?)
A/N: Written on my phone while at work. Will edit later. Do not copy,rewrite, translate or repost my drabbles.
You're sitting in Father Roger's office wearing a demure white lace dress. The matching stockings go up to your thighs, held in place by a pair of wine red garters. Buckys favorites. He loves how innocent you appear when you dress like this.
Your eyes hover over the bookshelf to your left, it's filled with religious literature. Even more books are stacked on his desk. Various pens and crosses are scattered across the uneven piles of paperwork. The overhead light catches specks of dust that dance in the still air. The faint scent of damp wood seeps into your nose.
You eye a particularly pretty cross, your hand drawn to it. Touching the tapered edge, you giggle when you feel a spark sting your fingertips. Withdrawing your hand, you continue to study the room while you wait.
You hum under your breath, perking up when you hear footsteps approaching. Straightening up, you smooth down the front of your dress.
Father Rogers closes the door behind him with a heavy sigh. "I'm so glad you could make it today."
He steps into your line of vision. You give him an alluring grin, widening your eyes ever so slightly. "Of course Father," you say, keeping your voice soft.
Folding your hands on your lap, you blink up at him. Steve watches you closely as he takes his seat, his eyes hardening when he sees the finger shaped bruises decorating your neck.
"There have been rumors that you were seen at the old church and that you may have been engaging in--," he huffs, removing his glasses, he pinches the bridge of his nose. In all his years, he never thought he would be having this conversation.
You lean forward, placing your palms on his desk. "Yes Father."
"Excuse me." He says, his brows furrowing.
You get out of the chair, keeping your hands on the smooth wooden surface. "I did go to the church. I did call for Bucky. And those activities they're whispering about are all true." You smile proudly.
Steve exhales sharply. He tosses his glasses down and grabs your hands. "Child, do you know what you have done? It's not too late, I can help you. We can rid you of this demonic presence."
His impassioned rant fades when you tilt your head to the side. Your eyes drifting over his shoulder. You grin, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. "You hear that baby. He can rid me of your demonic presence."
Steve gawks at you, carefully withdrawing his hands. The sweet scent of lilacs and vanilla fill the musty air. The lights flicker changing from the dull yellow glow to an unnatural red.
Steve turns his head, startling in his chair. He curses under his breath, his heart hammering painfully in his chest as Bucky emerges from the shadows.
"Mmm language Father," Bucky purrs, gliding across the room.
He stands behind you, pressing down on your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. "Tell me, Father, just how do you plan on getting rid of me."
Goosebumps prickles across your skin as his large hands push your dress up your thighs to your waist. He plucks the garter, the band snapping on your tender skin. You hiss, loving the delicious sting. Bucky palms your ass. You hear shifting and rustling behind you.
Steve raises his hand, starting to form a cross. Bucky laughs a beautiful musical tone that makes you shiver. You're still not used to that mesmerizing sound.
Steve flinches, clutching his ears. He gasps when his hands are pulled down. His seat moving across the floor, the wheels squeaking and rattling as he's pushed to the desk.
Bucky licks up the side of your neck. He grips your hips and pushes into your slick walls with one firm thrust. Pleasure blooms from your core as he stretches you. Fuck, you never feel a burn with him, just pure bliss. You drop to your elbow, moaning as you blatantly stare at an aghast Steve.
Bucky grunts, snapping his hips into yours. "I'm so deep in her. She's so fucking tight." He lifts your hips and you cry out his name.
"You hear that Father," Bucky asks, a smirk forming as Steve struggles against his invisible bonds. Bucky pulls you flush against his chest, each stroke of his cock pushing you to your tiptoes.
He places his hand over your mouth, muffling your moans. The salacious wet sloshing of your cunt echoing in the small room is vulgar and filthy and it makes you even wetter, your slick dripping around his cock.
"Sounds like she doesn't want to let me go." Bucky taunts, lifting your dress, exposing your swollen pussy. Steves's eyes darken, a hoarse grunt caught in his throat.
"Her sweet cunt keeps sucking me back in." He groans, fucking into you harder and faster. You're not listening, too focused on the pleasure burning through your veins.
His tail wraps around your belly, keeping you still. Buckys mouth drops to your ear. "You know, I bet the good father is hard right now, bet his cock is aching to feel your tight pussy wrapped around him."
He flicks his wrist, lifting Steve out of the chair. Your grin hidden by Bucky's rough palm, he's right. Steve can't hide his lust-blown pupils, he definitely can't hide his cock straining the thin fabric of his pants.
You can help the moan ripping through your chest. Buckys large body surrounding you, Steve's piercing eyes on you. It's so debauched but you love every second of it.
"Aw look at that," he darkly chuckles. Bucky pulls your dress down exposing your tits, his thumb teasing your pebbled nipple while his long dexterous fingers circle your clit. "He wants you, little one, but you belong to me."
"Yes, yes I'm yours, all yours Bucky," you pant.
He nips at your bruised throat, his hips slapping into you so fast you're getting dizzy. It's too much, you're so close, so fucking close.
"All mine. Let's show him how pretty you look when you cum."
Steve crashes to the floor, his head tilted back as the desk flies across the room. His gaze locked on your pussy. "Cum for him, little one, let him see why your pussy is better than salvation. " He says, his fingers spreading your folds so Steve can see his large, thick cock pushing into your sopping core.
You clench down with a cry. It's a visceral reaction, the knot unraveling in your cunt, your body tensing as you fall apart.
"Good girl." Bucky groans, his deep voice rumbling across your skin. " Don't you agree, Steve?"
A sly grin cuts across his face, his blue eyes flickering to a deep black. "She's a very good girl."
He stands, shedding his cloak. "Now it's my turn to ruin her sweet cunt."
*****
Part 1
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buckycuddlebuddy · 3 months ago
Text
intentional
summary ─ “fuck him,” you muttered. “fuck him sideways.”
pairing ─ avenger!alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader
warnings ─ smut, +18, a/b/o dynamics, mutual pining, flirting, kissing, light choking (:d), rough sex, getting together, heat/rut sex, scenting, idiots in love
a/n ─ blame seb for that ig story picture. it made me do it. but seriously, can he choke me. anyway sfjdsjf hope you like it! leave a comment if you do! thankl youuuu <333 (italic is bucky, bold is reader) enjoy this 5.6k monstrosity. 
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You and Bucky had been flirting for some time, but it was more of a friendly flirting rather than something more. He would call you cute pet names and let you play with his hair on movie nights, and you would let him cuddle or hug you whenever he needed touch. You liked spending time and having a lot of fun with him.
Sometimes you scented each other, too.
His scent was reminding you all kinds of things that you considered safety and homey, so you never said ‘no’ when he wanted to scent you. He let you scent him back most of the time and you used it on his behalf; scenting him when he felt anxious, letting him bury his nose into your neck so that he’d calm down after a brutal mission or nightmare. It worked well for both of you.
Sometimes, though, you wished something more from him. There were times where you wanted him to kiss you, to pull you flush against his muscle-clad, big and warm body and to touch you like that. You wanted to know how his arousal smelled like up-close, but you were valuing your friendship a bit too much to make a move; you were afraid that you’d lose him, and you couldn’t take the risk.
So, you kept it to yourself.
Times went by while both of you went on with your cute flirting and occasional hair-playing and cuddle/hug and scenting game. You knew you should have stopped scenting him back, you didn’t want to get in between him and his potential mate, since he’d been seeing other women sometimes. You overheard him and Sam talking about Tinder and getting dates from there. You also saw him carrying a gorgeous blonde to his room while kissing the daylight out of her.
You wanted so badly to be her, but it was just not possible. You knew it.
Sighing to yourself, you wiggled under your thick duvet, burying your body into the bed even more. It was way too late for you to be awake, but you couldn’t sleep. Your bed was comfy, warm and you put your duvet into a position that got you looking like a burrito. You were supposed to be passed out with these beautiful conditions, but your body was too hot, you felt too itchy to go to sleep. Your heat was close. You could sense it; you were in the pre-heat phase and you had about two days until it hit you.  
You growled to yourself angrily a little as you wiggled a bit more. Your head was partially under your pillow when you heard your phone ping-ing. Frowning, you stuck your hand out to grab it, seeing that you had one unread message. You opened it.
“Oh, fuck,” you moaned out accidentally when you saw what it was.
It was Bucky. He was shirtless and had his dog tags on. He was holding a cup in his big hands. All the muscles and veins were visible and bulging. He had a flirtatious look on his face. He seemed to wearing thin basketball shorts under, but they did very little to hide whatever he was… hiding there.
“Shit,” you whimpered. Your face was heating up rapidly. You felt your body was ready to burst, explode, whatever. Your heart was beating in your mouth. You could feel your pussy getting wet and even throb a little. You swallowed the spit that collected in your mouth when you heard another ping.
ah, shit, sorry, doll. i meant to send that to someone else.
Well, you thought and sighed.
“It’s not fair,” you whined and inched down on your bed, your legs spreading themselves instinctively. You bit your lip. You could finally make a move and say something suggestive, or you could just… chicken out. “Fuck him,” you muttered. “Fuck him sideways.” Your phone ping-ed again.
how is it look, though? i’m not sure about sending it rn
i think i’m chickening out
You rolled your eyes as his texts. Of course he didn’t like the picture where he looked so fucking sexy.
no, you look good, you texted him back. you look damn good, actually. idk why you’re chickening out. You saw the three dots that were inclining that he was writing and waited.
i dunno, he sent. she’s real nice, ya know. i don’t wanna fuck up
“Fuck whoever she is,” you whispered. “Fuck her if she thinks you’re fucking up when you send her a picture like this.”
why would sending a shirtless pic make you fuck up anyways?
she might think i’m a bit forward? idk honey i really care about her and i don’t want her to think i’m only talking to her bc i wanna fuck her ‘til she passes out.
“What the fuck,” you whispered again, your eyes narrowing and scent turning into its sickly sweet self by the half-dirty talk. Bucky never said anything to you like this before. You shared almost everything, but when the subject was sex Bucky was always a bit shy. Now, though, he didn’t sound shy. “I shouldn’t find this sexy.”
well, i don’t think she’ll have a problem with that, pal. esp with that pic
hell no
The three dots appeared again.
so you’re saying that she’ll know that my only purpose isn’t fucking her through her mattress?
i mean i know this isn’t a dick pic but still
You shake your head fondly. Even when he was trying to sext with a woman, he was being a gentleman. You liked that about him. He was always thinking how the other person would feel if his actions were to get misunderstood. It was cute.
you’re cute, you sent. she’ll understand.
Dots appeared but disappeared a second later. It repeated itself for a couple time before it totally vanished. You frowned but didn’t think too much about it. There really wasn’t much he could say to your last text, you thought. Maybe he finally sent the picture to the person who should have received it in the first place.
You took a deep breath as you looked at the picture again.
God, he was so handsome. He recently had a haircut, and it looked very good on him. He had faint stubble. When you first looked at the picture, you thought he had a flirtatious look, but actually he was just adorable. He was caught in mid-wink, you thought. His flesh hand was dwarfing the big navy colored mug he had in his hand. You knew that mug, you bought him that as a birthday gift, and it was a very big one. You never noticed how big his hands were before, but now that you knew, it was going to be hard to take your eyes away from them.
“Ugh,” you grunted, feeling the itchy sensation increasing. “Fuck me.” Locking your phone, you dropped it on your night stand. You were wet and horny, but you didn’t have any energy to touch yourself. So, you just hugged your pillow and closed your eyes.
──
The morning found you pouring yourself a cereal with still sleepy eyes. The sun was shining brightly, the kitchen was quiet and it seemed like you were the only living creature in the tower. You yawned as you put the cereal box down and poured some milk into your bowl. You perched yourself onto the chair by the kitchen island and dug into your cereal.
You had… vivid dreams last night. It included a pair of hands touching your naked skin, blur of colors and some moaning. You vaguely remembered that there were hushed whispers of a little dirty talk, but the details blurred as soon as you woke up.
That meant you were even achier than last night. You grunted into your cereal.
“Hey,” you heard someone murmur and jumped, it was Bucky. He looked like he just came back from a run. “Shit, sorry,” Bucky muttered. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” You shrugged as you slurped the last of your cereal. With the corner of your eyes, you saw his nostrils flare and realized he was scenting the air. “Y’alright, doll?”
“Mmhm, just achy,” you murmured and carried your bowl to the sink. Bucky stayed silent and watched you washing your bowl and rolling your shoulders a couple times. He could smell your scent; it was content but somehow… off. He also knew your heat was close. Your scent was too sweet albeit being a little off, it was like he just stepped into a bakery and got hit with freshly baked goods. It was mouthwatering. Eyes narrowing, Bucky murmured a silent ‘fuck it’ to himself, he stepped behind you.
“You seem awfully tense, honey,” Bucky muttered into your ear as he pressed his body to yours. “Couldn’t sleep well?” You tensed. You could feel the heat coming off of his body, could smell his clean sweat, cologne and his own musk; it was woody and fresh: like a bonfire in the middle of a forest. More importantly, you could feel all the muscles and ridges on his body against yours.
“Somethin’ like that,” you whispered. Bucky cooed at you softly. His arms wound themselves around your waist, pulling you in and making you rest your body against his. His scent surrounded you in a second, and you felt like you were being cocooned in your bed by your soft blankets.
“Breathe with me, love,” he murmured. “It will help you loosen up.” You swallowed and nodded. Feeling his chest moving behind you, you followed his movements. “That’s it,” he said, “You’re doing great.” You breathed in, in, and in and then let it ouuuut. You felt your shoulder relax a bit. “That’s it,” he whispered and─
His lips were right over your pulse. His stubble was rubbing the sensitive flesh of your neck. You shuddered uncontrollably. Bucky hushed you as his lips brushed against your skin. His hot breath was licking your neck, making the hair on your body rise. He nosed your glands there; taking lungful of your scent, Bucky grumbled to himself about how good you smell.
With a small grunt of his, he took a step forward and cornered you against the counter. You gasped.
“Hmm,” Bucky hummed, “You are tense, honey.” His lips found your jaw, his nose poked your temple and you shuddered again.
It felt like you were underwater but weren’t drowning; everything was peaceful quiet, and you were floating.
“Bucky,” you whispered. He hummed. “Bucky…” He kissed your neck, bit down on the flesh and sucked it a little. You felt your legs tremble when you felt your heat creeping in even closer and grabbed his arms around your waist for support. You tipped your head back, exposing your throat to him, and closed your eyes.
Placing kisses all over your neck, nibbling on your jaw, one of his hands grabbed your face to turn it towards him. “Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll stop. I promise I’ll stop.” You didn’t say anything but leaned into his touch. “Tell me.”
“I want it,” you whispered, surpassing a shiver. Your heat was taking over your body, and Bucky needed the verbal confirmation before it consumed you.
“Honey,” he said softly. “Your heat is starting, do you want me to help you?” You gasped silently, realizing that you were feeling woozy a little and your vision was fuzzy around the edges, now.
“Yes,” you answered him. “Please, alpha?”  
Bucky’s chest rumbled lightly with approval and captured your lips with his. You moaned into his mouth. It was as soft as it looked and was caressing yours so nicely. You whimpered as you sneaked your hand into his slightly damp hair. You craned your neck to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue join the game, too. Bucky groaned.
“Fuck, love,” he whimpered. “Your skin feels so soft under my hands, your body is so warm… Mmm, I wanna eat you right up.” You wiggled in his arms.
“Please,” you whispered. Bucky bit down on your bottom lip. His other hand sneaked into your pajama bottoms, sliding right into your panties and nudging your clit gently. You gasped loudly as Bucky cursed.
“Holy shit, honey,” Bucky groaned. “You’re wetting your pajama bottoms with your slick.” You whimpered when you felt one long digit swiping the slick that gathered between the lips of your pussy. “Is it for me?” He asked, a low growl could be heard in his voice. You nodded. Bucky tugged on your hair. “Words. Use’em.”
“Yes!” You cried out. “Yes, only for you, Bucky, yes!”
“That’s more like it,” Bucky murmured and slid two of his fingers inside you. Biting your lip to stop yourself moan loudly, your hand tightened in Bucky’s hair and you bared your throat to Bucky by the throwing your head back even more, submitting him.
The way Bucky was fingering you was relentless; two of his long and thick fingers were stroking your wet walls, crooking them to graze over your sensitive spot sometimes while the heel of his hand was pressing down on your clit. You were being stimulated from almost all your open ended nerves so perfectly, you wanted to cry.
“I wish you see how you look right now, baby,” Bucky whispered. “You’re so deep into your pleasure...” You hummed and let out a gasp when he crooked his fingers again. “You take my fingers so nicely. My hand is drenched, baby, goddamn.” He nosed your bared throat, taking deep breaths, Bucky filled his lungs with your sweet heat scent. “Gotta get you to your room, love. The whole kitchen is gonna smell like your heat if we don’t.” You whined, but you weren’t lost in your head yet, so you knew he was right. You nodded. Bucky kissed your neck and suddenly, your world was upside down.
You were thrown over his shoulder like he was a caveman and you were his prey. “Bucky!” He chuckled, his metal hand slapping your ass, he stepped into the elevator and told Jarvis to go up to your floor. He carried you like that throughout the whole trip. You got to feel his back muscles all the way to your room, though, so you thought it wasn’t so bad.
Bucky dropped you on the floor gently. You were standing right in front of your room. “I can wait here,” Bucky murmured and continued when he saw your confused look. “While you are getting nest sorted out, I can wait here.”
Your heart swelled in your chest because ain’t he the most thoughtful.
“Aww, James,” you whispered. He just smiled and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Really?” He nodded. You knew he took these kinds of things serious because he was a bit old-school, but you liked that about him very much.
“Yeah,” he said. “Actually, why don’t you go ahead and sort your nest out while I get us some water and snacks?” You placed your hand on your heart.
“A man after my stomach,” you said dreamily, making him snort. “Okay.” He kissed your neck one more time and walked back to the elevator.
You had a spring on your step as you walked inside of your room and stripping the bed from unnecessary things. You pulled out your softest linens, blankets and pillows; arranging them on the bed the way you liked, you added some extra tiny pillows. It looked inviting, personal and smelled like you strongly. You smiled, pleased with your efforts. Just as you sat down on the bed in your underwear, you had kept your oversize t-shirt though, you heard a knock.
“Come in!” You called out and saw Bucky’s smiling, handsome face. He had arms full of snacks and water bottles, he also had other things which you couldn’t figure out what. You watched him as he put the things he carried into your room on your small desk.
“I, uh,” he started, suddenly looking bashful. “I thought you might want, uh,” Bucky stammered over his words and just handed you something.
It was his blanket from his bed and the sweatshirt you saw him wearing yesterday.
“I can always put them aside or bring more, whatever you want,” Bucky hurriedly added. You shook your head as you reached and took them from him. You folded the sweatshirt and put it right next to your bed where you would be reaching something to wear after you were through, and spread the blanket on your bed, rearranging your pillows. You took your t-shirt off before you turned and faced with Bucky.
You walked up to him slowly until you were standing right in front of him. You could see his nostrils flaring, pupils dilating and him scenting the air. “Kiss me, alpha?” Bucky let out a broken sound before he pulled you against his body, his flesh hand cradling your face gently, and leaned down to give you the kiss that you asked for so nicely.
It was, hands down, the most loving and gentle kiss you’ve ever had. It was nothing like the kiss you’ve shared in the kitchen. This one was chaste. Bucky’s lips were soft, and he was kissing you like a longtime lover. Moaning lightly, you tilted your head to your side and deepened the kiss a bit; pushing up on your tiptoes and winding your arms around his neck, you felt his arms wrapping themselves around your waist one more time.
You felt amazingly consumed and caged and overwhelmed, and you were fucking loving it.
Bucky pulled back slightly. “Bed,” he commanded. His voice was rough and low. His woodsy, fresh smell had taken a sharp turn and now it was more like burning wood and citrus. You loved how forest-y his scent was. You quickly climbed on the bed, and a second later Bucky joined you.
His big body caged yours under him. The body heat this man had was driving you crazy because he was so fucking warm, it made you want to wrap yourself around him like a koala and never let go.
“Bucky…” You breathed when you felt his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck, gasped when he placed a soft bite there. His light stubble was rubbing your skin raw, but you were loving it just like everything else. You felt him press his body against yours fully as he drew in a deep breath.
“God, your scent is drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy,” he murmured and kissed his way downwards. He stopped when he came across to your bra, looking up in your eyes, he silently asked for permission to take it off. You nodded. As soon as your breasts were free from their containment, Bucky latched on to one of your nipples, making you throw your head back and moan loudly.
“Fuck!” You yelped when he bit down and sucked and did… things with his tongue. He was licking and sucking, his saliva had covered your nipple and you could hear the slurping sound. It was so sexy, the pleasure was so intense; you felt like you were about to come. Whimpering, you slid your hands in his short hair, pulling and scratching his scalp. Bucky hummed. The vibrations and the graze of his teeth made you hiss, your body was trashing beneath his strong one.
Bucky pulled back with a ‘pop’, licking his lips, his fingers toyed with your other nipple. “How are you feelin’, love?” He asked. You panted lightly as you gave him thumbs up but yelped again when he pinched your nipple. “Words,” he growled. “I told you to use them.”
“’m good,” you whimpered, nipple throbbing deliciously. “’m good, I swear, ‘m fine, alpha.” Bucky hummed at the name. He always liked being called ‘alpha’ during sex before, he was never shy to tell his partners to call him that when he wanted to end his dancing night with someone, but hearing you call him that was turning him on in a whole different level.
Growling approvingly to himself, Bucky’s fingers found the hem of your panties. Before he could ask for permission, you lifted your hips to help him remove them easily. Bucky took a hold of the flimsy fabric, quickly dragging it down your beautiful legs, he threw them somewhere in the room. You were now under him with all your naked fucking glory, and Bucky’s mouth was watering at the sight of you. His gums were hurting with the desire to claim and mark you.
“You are gorgeous, baby,” Bucky murmured, fingers trailing over your soft skin and making you shiver happily. He leaned in. His light stubble rasped against your nipple as he nosed your collarbone, licking and sucking small marks there. You sighed. Your hands were buried deep in his short hair, the fluffiness of it turning into a messy state. “You feel so good against me,” he murmured again, lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your breasts. You whimpered. The ache between your legs was getting intolerable with each passing second, and you wanted him to take you already.
“Bucky…” You breathed. “Please, Bucky, alpha, I-I can’t, it h-hurts,” you babbled, hands now clawing his strong and wide shoulders. Quickly, Bucky shushed you with kisses, murmured filthy nonsense into your ear as he trailed one hand down your front. You gasped when his fingers brushed against your clit. It was already so sensitive and throbbing and aching─
“So wet,” Bucky whispered. “I’m gonna taste it later.” He brushed his fingers up and down for a couple times and pulled his hand back. “Now, we make your hurting stop, love.” You nodded. Your eyes were half-closed, you looked debauched without Bucky doing anything properly yet, and more importantly you looked drunk with only a couple kisses and touching from him.
If that ain’t the best kind of ego boost, I don’t know what is, Bucky thought to himself as he bit his lip and removed his clothes. Your sweet heat scent was filling his lungs and the room, and making him feel lightheaded. His skin was prickling with the intensity of your scent. He knew very well no matter how many times he’d shower that he would be smelling like you even days after your heat ended. Honestly, that would be a dream come true for Bucky.
His crush on you was getting stronger rather than dying down. He had tried dating with other people, hooking up or just spend his rut with at least a partner, but he just couldn’t because his body was yearning yours. His lungs were desperate for your sweet, calming scent filling them, his fingers were itching to feel your skin, and his lips were tingling to meet with yours… His whole body had been wanting you, no one else had made him feel this way before.
“God, Y/N,” Bucky breathed. His eyes were now fully black, face darkened with lust and his body heat had increased. He was about to enter his rut, he knew it. Bucky leaned forward and licked a fat line from your collarbone to all the way up to your ear, making your bonding glands throb. You gasped at the feeling.
“Fuck, Bucky!” You sighed, eyes screwed shut. Bucky hummed. His fingers moved south, were quick to find your dripping and aching core, he slipped two of his fingers in you. You moaned. His fingers were moving in and out of you rapidly, thumb pressing lightly on your clit. He could feel the poor thing throb beneath his fingertip, Bucky chuckled against your throat and nipped the skin there. You moaned one more time, but louder, your nails dug them deep into Bucky’s meaty shoulders. Bucky hissed at the slight pain, but all the pain during sex was welcomed in his book.
Bucky pulled his fingers out and pushed off of you, ignoring your little whines. “Present,” he ordered, his voice was still soft even though his commanding tone. Whimpering, you flipped onto your tummy, pressed your chest against the soft linens beneath you and lifted your ass high up on the air. Bucky groaned. “Damn, kitten,” he whispered. You shivered. He placed his hands on your ass, and then moved them up, up, up and slid one of them into your hair. “Do I need a condom?” You nodded.
“Birth control is no good for me,” you panted lightly. Bucky nodded, pressing a kiss on your cheek, he leaned sideways to grab a condom from his bedside drawer. You rubbed your face, wiggled your hips and fisted the bedding as Bucky put on the condom. As soon as he was done, he walked closer to you on his knees and immediately draped his body onto yours. You sighed at the skin-to-skin contact.
“Tell me if you want to or need me to stop because you don’t like what we’re doing, alright?” Bucky murmured. You nodded.
“I will,” you slurred slightly and earned another kiss on your cheek. You hummed happily. You felt the blunt tip of his cock against your wet folds and held your breath. With a smooth, slow thrust of his hips, Bucky slid into you. “Fuuuck,” you sighed, eyes closed and mouth open, drooling just a little bit. The ache in your core was disappeared as soon as Bucky filled you up.
“Goddamn,” Bucky gritted. Your pussy was hugging his hard as hell cock so nicely, Bucky felt like he was being wrapped with the softest blankets to ever exist. Falling onto his elbows, Bucky placed kisses on your bare shoulders. He moved his arms carefully and wrapped them around your torso. One of his hands was wrapped lightly around your neck, and you felt another flame taking over your body with the feeling.
“Move,” you whispered. “Alpha, please, move.” Bucky shushed you gently. Never stopping peppering kisses on your shoulder, neck and cheek, Bucky moved his hips slowly at first. You gasped, head thrown back on Bucky’s shoulder, you closed your eyes.
Your mind was fogged, body wrung tight with sexual frustration and the coil in your belly was burning hotter each passing second. You could feel your heat taking over your body. Bucky’s strong scent was covered with the traces of faint rut, and his scent was clogging up all your senses.
It felt magnificent.
“Alpha,” you moaned when his cock touched a spot in you, your body suddenly waking up. Bucky grunted. His rut was making him a little non-verbal, but he was okay with it. “Faster,” you whimpered. “Faster, harder, alpha, fuck!” The breath knocked out of your lungs with Bucky’s hard thrust.
Grunting and rumbling deep in his chest, Bucky started slamming into you. Your slick was now covering his inner thighs and groin, making these obscene sounds to echo in your room and your skin to stuck each other whenever Bucky’s pelvis kissed yours. You whimpered. Your body was both loosening up and tightening even more as Bucky’s thrusts became harder and deeper. Your body was melting under his, muscles were getting lax because of the rut scent and soft rumbles Bucky was occasionally letting out.
“Mmm,” Bucky hummed, nose poking your bonding glands. “You smell so good, omega,” he murmured, and you shuddered under him. Bucky chuckled darkly. His hot breath licked over your pulse. His short fangs grazed over the sensitive skin, tongue poking out to lick and suck as his pace turned into even something more feral. The sound of skin slapping skin was so loud, you were deafened by it.
You whimpered when you felt his teeth again. You had no fear of Bucky mating you, you knew him enough to know that he wouldn’t do that, but feeling him dragging his fangs up and down like that on your bonding glands was incredibly turning you on. You grabbed onto his arms when he slightly straightened up so that he could drive in you deeper.
“Shit,” you gasped. Bucky growled. His arms around your neck tightened its hold a bit, enough to make you feel every drag of oxygen. “Fuck, Bucky─” His cock was driving in and out of you at a mad pace, balls slapping against your clit and obscene sounds of your wet pussy was driving you even crazier.
With a snarl, Bucky pulled you up against him, flipping you on your back in a matter of seconds. When he slid into your once again, you felt the bulge of his knot at the base of his cock. You gasped, looking down, your mouth hung open on its own. Bucky chuckled.
“That mouth of yours is hungry, ain’t it?” He asked, a filthy smirk on his face. You tried to swallow the spit, but he didn’t let you. He stuffed three of his metal fingers into your mouth. “Suck on’em, honey,” he ordered lovingly. You moaned as you did what you were being told and felt his pace falter for a second. “Fuck.” You hummed around his fingers. His rut scent getting stronger, covering your body, your bed and leaving its mark deep into your bones, you felt like a cat under the sun.
Bucky placed his flesh hand on your pussy. His hips were moving with a rapid pace, your fluids were mixing with his. His thumb found your clit and started to play with it. You cried out. your back arching, you moaned around his fingers, your pussy tightening on his cock. Bucky gasped and grunted. His balls were hurting because of how full they were.
“Come for me,” he whispered. “Fuckin’ come for me, omega,” his harsh whispering voice commanded. You felt your eyes roll back as the pleasure and blinding orgasm took over your body. Bucky cursed as he felt your mouth watering even more around his fingers, pussy walls clamping on his cock and knot. Gasping, Bucky leaned in and pulled his fingers out your mouth so that he could kiss you. Bucky was so close, so fucking close─
“Mmm,” you hummed into his kiss. “C’me f’r me, alpha,” you murmured, placing sloppy kisses on his mouth. “C’mon, breed me, fill me up, make a mess─”
Groaning loudly, Bucky slammed forward one last time before he felt his knot popped. His balls seized so hard, Bucky let out a wounded sound. You shushed him. Placing your hands on his face, you kissed him. He sighed into the kiss as he thrusted in and out of you slowly, fucking his come deeper into you.
“Fuck, honey,” Bucky breathed out when the intense part of his orgasm washed away. You smiled, kissing him again. Bucky kissed you back soundly. “Damn, I’ve never come that hard before,” he said, chuckling.
“Good,” you said. Your scent flaring up with smugness, Bucky laughed.
“Yeah, alright, you’re possessive,” he said with a smile on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up and ducked your head. Bucky continued to smile but couldn’t stop himself from leaning down for another kiss.
After a couple minutes of lazy make-out, Bucky carefully re-arranged your positions so that he could cuddle you without crushing you. You lay like that in silence, feeling content. Your heat and his rut had diminished for the time being, giving you some time to recover. You were playing with his metal hand when the thought struck you.
“Hey,” you murmured, and Bucky hummed as an answer. “What did she say?” You asked him. He made a confused sound.
“Who? About what?”
“You sent me a picture last night and said you were chickening out because she was real nice and you don’t wanna fuck it up,” you explained, a little bit jealousy slipping into your scent. “Did you send her the picture? What did she say?” You felt him freeze momentarily, but then he let out a small chuckle.
“I sent it, yes,” he said. “She said that I look damn good and that I can’t fuck this thing up, not with that picture, and that I’m cute and she’ll understand why I sent it.”
You froze.
“It was intentional,” you murmured. Bucky hummed in approval, kissing your shoulder and tightening his arms around you. “You asshole,” you shrieked, hitting his arm. “You could have just come to me!” Bucky laughed as you hit him again.
“I’m sorry!” He said. “I actually didn’t mean to send you that picture, I swear. I hit send accidentally, but I also said ‘might as well’ afterwards, so,” he murmured, shrugging.
“God, I can’t believe this,” you grumbled. Bucky nuzzled your neck. “I couldn’t sleep last night because of that picture,” you admitted.
Bucky frowned. “Why?”
“I was horny, Bucky,” you said. Bucky let out a loud laugh.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, but you knew he wasn’t sorry at all.
“No, you’re not,” you rolled your eyes, pouting at the same time.
“No, I’m not,” he agreed, slowly moving on top of you. “I can make it up, though…” Kissing your cheek, he poked your nose with his playfully. “You said you were horny, right? How about I do something about that?” You smirked.
“I’m in heat, Barnes,” you said. “You better make it up to me.” Bucky smirked right back at you.
“Your wish is my command, m’Queen,” he said, sweeping you into a passionate kiss. 
──
tell me what you think please!!
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bucksfucks · 2 months ago
Text
 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 ; 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀
summary┃when your car breaks down on the side of the road and your dad can’t come rescue you, he sends the next best thing. 
pairing┃dadsbestfriend!bucky x f!reader 
word count┃ 2,434 words
warnings┃significant age gap [reader in 20′s, bucky in late 30′s], car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, alcohol consumption, sloppy sex, bucky teases you a lot, thigh riding, pet-names, fingering, finger sucking, size kink, metal arm kink, praise kink, slight edging, bucky finishing in you, talk of masturbation [in passing] — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI
notes┃if i see you plagiarize my work i will personally steal all of your left shoes and right socks
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   “I don’t know, the engine made a sound and now it won’t start.” You groaned into your phone, your dad sighing on the other end of the line as you leaned your head against your seat. 
    “Can you get it into a mechanic?” He asked as you rolled your eyes, “considering it won’t start, I don’t think so.” 
     You were just outside of town, almost making it home before your piece of shit car decided to crap out on you and die. 
    “I’m stuck in the office until seven, but I’ll get Bucky to pick you up, okay?” Your dad said, shuffling on the other end of the line as your heart dropped into your stomach at the sound of his name. 
    “Bucky?” Your throat was suddenly dry, heart hammering as you could hear it’s reverberation in your ears like the sound of waves in a shell. 
    “He’s good with cars too, might even be able to bring your car back to life long enough to get it into a mechanic.” Your dad’s voice was calm and collected, unlike the way your breathing was. 
    “Oh, okay. Yeah, that’s really nice of him.” You tried to act normal, like nothing was wrong. 
     Like Bucky hadn’t fucked you the bathroom of some gross college bar during your last year just a months ago. 
     You hadn’t seem him since. Last you heard, he had set off on a solo trip to California as he kissed you on the cheek at the end of the night.
   With his cum staining your thighs.
   And the scent of him on your shirt as you watched him walk out of the bar.
   Now he was going to come and rescue you from the side of the some dirt road.
   “You there, sweetie?” Your dads voice brings you back to reality as you shake your head, “yeah, yeah, sorry. The reception’s spotty,” you lie right through your teeth. 
   “Hang in there, sweetie, okay? Bucky shouldn’t take longer than 20 minutes.” Oh good, at least you’ll have time to prepare yourself for the moment you’d see him again. 
   “Okay, thanks dad. I’ll see you soon then.” You both say your goodbyes before the line goes dead and you’re left staring at the nearly desolate road as the occasional car or semi roars by. 
    It’s getting late but thankfully it’s the dead of summer which means that it would be impossible to get cold, even with the sun down. 
    No matter how hard you tried not to think about Bucky, the memories of that night came flooding back with each gust of warm air. 
    The way his fingers danced up your shirt as he pressed you against the dingy bathroom wall. 
    The way he bent the bathroom door handle at an angle that would lock the two of you in there for some privacy—the sparks of gold and shining black flashing through your mind. 
    The way he found all your sweet spots and the way he would call you Kid to egg you on as you took shots with him until you were dizzy. 
    And the way he made you cum harder than ever before until you had no more breath left in your lungs. 
    You had to shake yourself free of those thoughts, the familiar burn forming between your legs as you decided to pop your hood to see if you could magically figure out what had gone wrong. 
    It all looked so foreign, like a different language as you stared at the various car parts—the only thing you recognized was where you re-filled your windshield fluid. 
    A rumbling engine caused you to peek your head around the hood of your car to watch that familiar Impala pulling up right behind your car. 
    Your heart kicked in your chest, throat going dry as your hands were suddenly clammy watching him step out of the car. 
    Dressed in all black, Bucky shut the door of his car as he took his sunglasses off and tucked them in the front of his shirt. 
   “I gotta say,” his voice is so much deeper than you remembered, “this isn’t how I thought we’d be meetin’ again.” 
    He smirks, coming to stand beside you to look under the hood, “if it makes you feel better, neither did I.” 
    Your words make him chuckle as he turns his body to face you, arms over his thick chest and the early evening sun bouncing off of the prosthetic. 
    The same fingers that were knuckle deep inside of you, coaxing sweet, sweet moans as you fell over the edge more times than you can count. 
   “Your car battery is dead,” he says, after a quick inspection—arms propping himself on the hood as he uses the shiny metallic hand to point at the battery, “it looks like it’s been leakin’ for a while. How old is the battery?” 
    His question strikes you and suddenly you feel embarrassed and useless, “I don’t know.” 
    He shifts again, tucking his finger under your chin so you look up at him. His eyes are soft and you find yourself lost in them. 
   “It’s okay, Kid, was just askin’. Unfortunately I don’t have any cables, even if I did, it looks pretty lifeless.” He explains, finger dropping from under your chin and you want to whimper. 
    You nod your head, “thanks, Buck.” 
    You don’t even register that you call him that, “uh, sorry. I mean, Mr. Barnes.” 
    Now that makes him laugh, holler even as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. 
   “Please don’t call me Mr. Barnes, Sugar.” He says, the familiar pet-name doing nothing to alleviate the ache between your thighs. 
   “Why not?” You ask, genuinely curious as he takes a step towards you. 
    You’d also forgotten how much bigger Bucky was, in more than one way. He towered over you, remembering how he easily had you lifted and pinned against the wall as fuck fucked into you. 
   “'Cause,” he smirks, “I’ve heard you moan my name and I don’t wanna hear it any other way.” 
    Your breath gets caught in your throat, a gasp replacing it as you feel the familiar prick of goosebumps over your skin. 
   “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home.” He adds nonchalantly as you were still repeating his words in your mind. 
    He looks at you for a moment longer before brushing past you, “it’s gettin’ dark.” 
    You managed to unfreeze, legs moving from under you as you grabbed your duffle bag and whatever other miscellaneous objects from your car before tossing them in the back of Bucky’s car. 
   “Nice car,” you comment as you slide into the worn leather seats. Bucky smirks, turning the engine over as it roars to life. 
   “Thanks, Kid.” There it was again, the same taunt he used as you both downed a shot of tequila. 
   “Don’t call me that, I’m not a kid,” you weren’t mad, the slight smirk on your face was telling enough as Bucky put the car into neutral. 
    He leaned back, thick thighs spread as he put his arm over the back of the seats, “I jus’ missed that pout of yours, Sugar.” 
    You didn’t even realize you were pouting until Bucky pointed it out, dark eyes watching you as you relaxed into the seat. 
   “I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about this on the drive home to my father’s house.” You mumble, trying to contain the faint smile on your lips as Bucky leans into you. 
   “I don’t think havin’ my cock buried deep inside of you was very appropriate either, but you didn’t seem to mind,” he purrs, fingers falling onto the back of your neck. 
    A shudder travels down your spine when you feel his hand tighten around the base of your neck. 
   “Haven’t stopped thinkin’ ‘bout you, Sugar, you know that?” His voice drops an octave as the rumbling of the car’s engine make your pussy jump. 
   “You haven’t?” You whisper out, moving closer to him as he turns his body towards you. 
   “Havin’ my hand wrapped ‘round my own cock just doesn’t feel as nice as your tight pussy.” He hums, feeling his dick jumping in his pants. 
   “Haven’t stopped thinkin’ of your sweet moans, or the way your mouth felt ‘round my cock,” his smirk is darker now, cock growing in his jeans as you let out a soft moan.
   “Bucky, we-we,” you can’t even find the words, “this is so wrong.” 
    He hums, thumb tracing over your bottom lip, “then why does it feel so fuckin’ good?” He growls, tugging you into his lap as you let him, giving into the way his warm body feels against you. 
    You can feel him under you, his fingers instinctively digging into your hips as yours go to his broad shoulders so you can steady yourself. 
   “Tell me you haven’t thought of me,” he smirks, “that you haven’t touched that tight cunt of yours wishing it was my fingers or cock.” 
    You gasp, wetness pooling in your panties as you let out a whine, “Bucky.” 
   “Mmm, that’s what I thought, Sugar. My poor girl,” he hums, slowly rocking your hips over his with more fervour. 
   “Did I ruin men for you? Is that what this is ‘bout?” He taunts, holding your face in between his fingers as you’re forced to look at him. 
    You can see the lines in his forehead, pupils blown with lust as you’re able to pick out the grey hairs littered between the dark brunet ones. 
   “Your cock sure as hell did,” you pant, tangling your fingers in his hair and pressing your lips over his as he lets out a low grunt. 
    The kiss is messy, and you revel in the familiar taste of coffee and spearmint as your tongue glides against his along with the occasional bump of your teeth against his. 
   “You better start thinkin’ of excuses as to why you’re late ‘cause I’m about to fuck you,” he snarls, lips trailing down your neck as he sinks them into your sensitive skin. 
    “Grind yourself over my thigh, Sugar. Get yourself nice ‘n ready.” He smirks, hands already up the shirt you were wearing playing with your breasts. 
    Who are you to deny yourself the pleasure of riding Bucky’s thigh, the fabric of your jeans against your pussy mixed with the hard muscle causes a sweet friction that makes you mewl. 
   “Missed that sound, baby. Missed the way you felt, the way you tasted,” his lips are over yours, “but most of all, missed the way my cock fit perfectly ‘side you.” 
    Bucky had a way with words, knowing exactly how to make you come apart and that is what made him absolutely lethal. 
    He was like a wave that you rode, getting you high and wet and then slipping right through your fingers. 
    “Lie down,” he grunts, “on the seat.” It’s a messy and incredibly tight fit, but the couch-like seat allowed you get your back flat as Bucky shuffled in between your legs. 
    With some struggle, Bucky managed to get your pants down past your ass, your fingers quickly undoing his belt as you freed his cock. 
   “Fuck,” you gasped as he smirked, “what? Forgot how big I was?” He purrs, cradling your face, “it fit last time, it’ll fit today.” 
    You wanna chide back, think of a smart, witty remark, but your mind goes blank with lust and need. 
   “Not so fast, Sugar,” he cooes, “gotta warm you up first.” The fucking tease. 
    You whimper when you feel his fingers at your entrance, cock heavy against your hip as he slides a single finger in. It’s not enough, not by a long-shot as your walls warm up the cool metal. 
   “Bucky, please c’mon,” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. It does nothing but make him chuckle.
   “You know I love hearin’ you beg, that’ll jus’ slow me down,” you nearly throw a fit, as he slowly curls the single finger deep inside of you. 
    He’s relentless, finally adding a second finger and hooking them against your g-spot. It causes your toes to curl and the heat to grow in your belly—but he never gives you the satisfaction. 
    Instead, he pulls them out, tapping them against your lips, “clean ‘em.” 
    A shudder rolls over your body, lips parting to take the heavy digits in your mouth as you maintain eye contact with Bucky. 
    You’ve always wondered if he can feel those fingers, but the groan he gives you answers your question. 
   “Good girl, missed that ‘bout you,” he praises, running his cock through your folds as you squeak out a gasp at the sudden pressure against your clit. 
    There’s not warning as he slides in, slow and long as he holds himself up on his forearms; warm breath fanning across your face. 
   “Feel so fuckin’ good,” his eyes flutter closed as he bottoms out, nostrils flaring when he takes a deep breath trying to control himself. 
    It’s unfair, the way he knows you’re body. 
    There’s no taking his time, you’re parked on the side of the road with Bucky balls deep inside of you. He’s fucking you and he’s fucking you good. 
    The car shakes, suspension squeaking as he thrusts into you; the strokes much deeper from the confined space. 
   “You have no idea how good you feel, Sugar,” he grunts, pelvis bumping your clit as you throw your head back deeper into the seats. 
    Everything around you smells like leather, sex, and Bucky. 
    Your abdomen tightens as your toes curl and—“that’s it, gonna cum for me, make a fuckin’ mess.” 
    There’s nothing you can do to hold back your orgasm. It hits you like the truck that speeds past the parked car and you let out a choked gasp of Bucky’s name. 
     You’re both panting, everything is a mess and you’re wondering just how you’ll have to act as if Bucky’s cum isn’t leaking into the panties you’re wearing. 
      “I haven’t come that hard since,” he chuckles, “well since that night at the bar.” 
     You can do nothing but smile, butterflies in your tummy as he helps you sit up, both of you awkwardly wiggling back into your jeans. 
     It’s silent, but not uncomfortable as Bucky pushes down on the brake and shifts into drive. The moves forward a few metres before there’s a powering down sound and the engine splutters. 
    “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you laugh, turning to face Bucky who can’t stop laughing. 
    “Well it looks like we’re both stranded now,” he winks, pulling you into the slightly larger backseat, “might as well find a way to kill the time.” 
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