#bucky barnes au
summary ─ “you’re doing this on purpose,” he murmured through his teeth. You grinned at him over your shoulder.
pairing ─ biker!bucky barnes x reader
warnings ─ smut, +18, leather kink, lingerie, dirty talk, fucking in the woods, rough sex, kissing, light dry humping, language
a/n ─ another day! hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank you <3
KINKTOBER DAY FIFTEEN: biker!bucky + leather/lingerie + praise kink
The gang was together at Peggy’s bar; they were drinking and talking and laughing loudly. They were singing sometimes, but the others were quick to shut them up because none of them could sing. It was all good fun, though, and sometimes those good fun times came in handy.
They were distracted enough to not notice you and Bucky’s absence. That distraction allowed you to sneak into somewhere where Bucky could get his large paws on you because you looked sinfully delicious in that leather pants of yours. Your ass looked so fucking good, Bucky barely held himself back from grabbing it whenever he could. So, when he realized the others were occupied with their drinks and shitty singing, he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the bar.
Your stop was the woods behind the bar.
“Bucky─” You started, but he cut you off with plastering his lips onto yours. He bent down lightly and grabbed your thighs to hoist you up. You moaned at the show off. He slammed you against one of the trees, making your breath escaping from your lungs with a gasp.
“Do you have any idea how fucking hot it makes me feel whenever you wear leather?” Bucky growled, finally grabbing and squeezing handfuls of your ass, digging his blunt nails. You whimpered when you felt his rings digging into your skin through the leather fabric. When you put on these pants, your intention was to seduce Bucky, and successful you were.
“Mmm,” you hummed. “That’s why I wore them today.” Bucky growled again.
“You’re driving me insane,” he whispered against your lips. His hands squeezed your ass one more time before they slid under your sweatshirt. “What─” You smirked.
“You should see the panties I’m wearing,” you whispered in his ear. “It’s just a bra.” Bucky looked at you with wide, dark eyes. His erection was growing harder and harder each passing second between your legs, and you bit your lip as you ground on it. Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed, and he moaned. God, you loved making him lose it.
Suddenly, you were dropped on the ground and turned around. Your chest was plastered against the tree while Bucky plastered his chest against your back. You moaned lightly as you canted your hips to grind on the bulge against your ass. Bucky grabbed your hips. His smart fingers found the zipper on the back, and he pulled it down, revealing the panties you wore only for him.
“Goddamn, sweetheart,” Bucky moaned loudly into your ear. His nails dug into the meat of your ass; your thong giving him the access he needed. “Lookit this peach, damn.” You giggled and shook your ass, making it jiggle. Bucky hummed appreciatively. His fingers slipped under the elastic band and pulled it, letting it go suddenly to mimic a smack on your ass, and you gasped.
“Baby,” you whimpered. “Don’t tease.” Bucky made a sound, moving his hand to your front to cup your pussy in his palm. You gasped again and ground your aching core into his hand. Bucky slapped it lightly over the fabric, you moaned.
“You’ve been teasing me whole day, love,” Bucky whispered into your ear. His fingers were now playing with your clit over the fabric; his light scruff was rubbing the skin of your neck raw and making you mewl at the feeling. You pushed your ass against his bulge again, rubbing against it a little just to feel it. Bucky grunted. “Y’re so desperate, though,” he said, chuckling darkly. You nodded. He let you rub against him a couple more minutes all the while playing with your pussy. Then, he pulled his hand back to free himself from his jeans. You tried not to fidget excitedly when you heard the telltale sound of zipper being pulled down. “Yeah, gonna fuck you stupid, baby.” You whimpered and pushed your ass out to him.
With a growl, Bucky pulled your panties aside and slid into you in one move. Both of you moaned, your moan turning into a cry when he gave you a sharp thrust without letting you adjust his girth first. His large palms were holding your hips as he started to pound into you. His thighs were slapping against yours harshly, making loud, obscene sounds of sex echoing lightly through the woods. You felt your whole body and face heat up with the thought of someone might hear you, but Bucky was quick to distract you.
“So good, dolly,” Bucky praised. “So tight around me. ‘s like a heaven made especially for me, hm?” You burned even more. The coil in your gut was getting hotter and tighter each of his thrust and the praise fell from his mouth. “Always so good for me. Always gets so wet. Am I turning you on that much, lovie?” You whimpered.
“Bucky,” you whined. You let your chest rest against the tree as your hands grasped his wrists. Bucky hummed. Without acknowledging you, Bucky continued to pound into you. Your pussy was making wet sounds that drove both you and Bucky crazy. You could feel your orgasm edging closes each second, and soon, your nails were digging into his wrists as you tried to warn him about your upcoming relief.
“Yeah, baby,” Bucky groaned. “Come. Come and I’ll give you one more before I let you have mine.” You whimpered. You panted and cried out as his pace got quicker and thrusts rougher. His balls were hitting against your already-sensitive clit in an amazing way, and it was your undoing.
Crying out loudly, you came on his cock; your walls going tight as fuck around his aching cock and making him hiss. Your legs were shaking as you wheezed and let your eyes rolled back. It felt so good, so intense, you thought you were going to pass out for a second if it weren’t for Bucky whispering you praises.
“So good,” he was saying. “God, dolly, you’re so good, so amazing, goddamn, baby.” He panted and started thrusting again. He was slow at the beginning, was being considerate about your sensitivity. Soon, though, his thrusts got rougher again because he was close, too. He sneaked a hand under your panties, and his fingers were quick to find your aching and still-throbbing clit. You whimpered loudly. “Sssh, they’re gonna hear, baby.” You panted.
“Don’t care,” you said between breaths. “Let’em, Buck,” you moaned. “Let’em hear how good you make me feel. Let’em hear the screams you make me let out every time you fuck me.” Your heard him curse, felt his cock twitch in you, and he bit your shoulder as his fingers sped up. You moaned. “God, you’re gonna make me come again so fucking soon.” Bucky hummed. He bit your shoulder and started to slam into you deeper and harder. The sound of wet skins slapping against each other was echoing through the woods, and in a normal day, you’d feel embarrassed about it, but it wasn’t one of those days.
“Shit,” Bucky cursed again. You hummed, tightening around him when you felt yourself at the edge. “God, honey.”
“Mm, I know, baby,” you murmured which came out more like a whimper. “’m close, too,” you whispered. “Make come while you come inside me, please, please. God, I want you to come in me, please.” Bucky snarled, and suddenly you were bent over even more, your thighs were on his as he continued to pound into you. But. But he was in sofuckingdeepholyshit─ You let out a loud cry and felt your world black out as you came again.
Bucky lost it when he saw how hard you came and let himself jump off the cliff right after you. Groaning and snarling in a way, he painted your walls with his come. He plastered his chest against your back and panted through his orgasm.
“Damn,” Bucky breathed, and you chuckled. He pulled out gently. You could feel his come leaking out slowly and shivered. You clenched unintentionally, but Bucky had different ideas. He cupped your pussy in his palm. “Let it out, dolly.” You felt your cheeks heat up and did as he said. You felt all the come you’ve tried to hold it in slip out into his palm and shivered again. Bucky hummed. He took his palm off, turning you around, he offered it to you. “Wanna clean it?” You froze for a second; a fire taking over your body as you leaned unconsciously to lick the come clean from Bucky’s palm. His eyes went dark once more while he watched you lick the come away from his hand. “We’re so fucking again when we go home.”
You chuckled and pulled back. You reached for your pants with your face on flame. You pulled them on quickly and turned around again for him to zip it up. Bucky growled.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” he murmured through his teeth. You grinned at him over your shoulder and shook your ass, making it jiggle like before. Bucky whispered things to himself all the while shaking his head and grumbling. You giggled. Bucky zipped your pants up and smacked your ass for the good measure. You gasped. He zipped himself up while you turned around and threw your arms around his neck.
“Hey, handsome,” you murmured. He smiled widely, crinkles appearing around his eyes in the way you adored. “Love you so much.” His cheeks painted with a soft pink color, and you wanted to squish him.
“Love you so much, too, gorgeous,” he whispered and leaned in. You happily accepted his kiss, burying a small moan into his mouth. Bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist as he lifted you up bodily and plastered you against the tree. His tongue was diving into your mouth to deepen the kiss when you heard Dum Dum yelling.
“Stop fucking!” You pulled back with a gasp. “We heard y’all coming from, like, ten miles away. Go home and fuck there. You’re traumatizing the animals.” You snorted while Bucky rolled his eyes with a smile on his face. Dum Dum shook his head as he grumbled to himself and went back inside. You snorted again and buried your face into Bucky’s neck. He chuckled.
“Let’s go home,” he whispered, and you nodded. He took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles, and pulled you towards his bike. You straddled it after him, snuggling deeper into him and tightly holding onto his waist.
“Finally!” You heard Morita exclaim. “God, y’all were getting me horny.” You buried your laughter into Bucky’s back.
“Go fuck your fleshlight, Morita!” Bucky exclaimed back and revved the engine. With one swipe of his foot, you were on two wheels and off like a bullet on the road; the wind licking both of your faces as you drove towards home.
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Kinktober fic #8:
DON’T STEAL, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY STUFF!!!!
a/n- Please like, comment, and reblog!! It means a lot to me that i know anyone who reads my stuff, likes my work! Don’t be afraid to send me asks as well. I’m not currently taking requests(i’ll occasionally ask for ideas though!), but i’m always open to talk to new ppl:)
Warnings n stuff: 18+, alpha!bucky, omega!female!reader, smut, unprotected sex, cream pie, agoraphilia, dirty talk, a little smacking, a little biting, scenting, maybe some incorrect abo stuff, let me know if i missed anything (yes i changed todays fic because i felt like i wasn’t ready to fully take on a CNC fic. thank you for understanding!)
All mistakes within this fic are my own!!!
Kinktober Masterlist here!
Bucky is possessive. One wrong look from any other alpha and he’ll make sure they won’t look again. You’re currently at a party with some friends. Bucky is right by your side- which you don’t mind. Bucky is quick to feel eyes but they’re not exactly on him, they’re on you and he doesn’t like it not one bit. He gently grabs your arm and steers you away from the crowd, then he pushes you outside. “Yeah, what’s wrong?” You ask before you turn around, but when you do you see his face and how pissed he is. “Don’t tell me someone’s looking again..” You sigh and place your drink down. “Don’t worry about them!” You lightly shake his arm and he feels the eyes again.
He whips his head around and watches some guy come into view with a smirk on his face. He looks you up and down before licking his lips. You feel Bucky tense up and your heart beat gets faster. “Babydoll….do you give me the consent to fuck you?” Your brows furrow, confused, and you stumble out, “r-right n-now?” “Yes, right now. It wouldn’t be the first or last time and we both know that.” Your thighs press together at the thought and you whimper, “yes please, show me who i belong to alpha,” Bucky then presses you up against the glass and raises your dress up. He sees you’re wearing no panties and he groans, “fucking….good little omega.” You whimper and he smacks your ass before spitting in his hand and running it over your pussy.
You then feel the eyes on you and it’s the alpha from earlier. Bucky still knows he’s near and that he’s watching, but he also know that he’ll never have you. Bucky takes his cock out after teasing you a little, and he lines it up with your pussy. “You see that guy? He must not get that you’re not up for grabs. You’re mine…understand me? You’re mine, only mine, will forever only be mine.” You whimper, “yes alpha…only yours forever.” He then spits in his hand and lubes his cock up before pushing in. Your back is arched and your ass is sticking out. You’re moaning at the intrusion and Bucky groans while looking at the guy. His jaw is clenched as he fucks you up against the glass. Your nails take agaisnt it, and even though multiple people see you fucking, they don’t even try to stop an angry alpha who’s being intimate with his mate.
“Take it like a good omega, yeah?” You nod and a loud moan passes your lips as your eyes roll back. You squeeze Bucky’s cock and he growls, his hands grabbing your hips so he can go faster- his possessiveness taking over completely. You moan and your hands make smudges agaisnt the glass, part of you feels bad that someone will have to clean it but the other half of you doesn’t care because you’re being fucked so good. “Bucky! Yes!! Yes alpha! God please!” You nearly scream, euphoria taking you over as he obliterates your insides. Bucky groans and moans against your neck as he fucks you, the glass cracking in one spot has you squealing as he fucks you even harder.
You hold on to the metal bar that separates each window as your legs begin to shake. You scream out his name and by now everyone has either left the area, or they’re so mesmerized they can’t stop watching. The alpha from ealrier, he’s embarrassed because he knows the show is for him. His cock is hard, but he’s gone away. Even though he can still hear your moans, he’s gotten the message by now. “Fucking you so good you’ve forgotten where you are, haven’t you?” Bucky chuckles and you remember instantly. You open your eyes and see people looking at you, some out of shock, some out of mesmerization, some from being grossed out. Even though you should be embarrassed, you’re not. The thought of so many people watching you had you cumming and shaking for Bucky- your alpha. He groans when he feels you letting go and then your release signals his. He groans and growls loudly while biting over your mark, his cock being milked by you. He quickly pulls out and let’s your dress fall down before his knot can come. “Fuck, baby….so so good.” He scents you before kissing your lips sloppily.
Bucky then helps you up from the window and picks you up in his arms, his cum leaking out from you and onto your dress. Neither one of you cares though as he totes you out to go home- but not before grabbing a beer.
Kinktober tag list- @a-fictional-mens-whore @agni-l @hoe-4-sebstan @kiwiisgolden @xxbuckysbxx @acge @baby-shy @bucky-soldat @magicaleternal @dopeqff @thehuntresswolf
must be 18+ to be added to my tag lists
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right next door (chapter one)
summary: you just moved to a new apartment. living alone for the first time makes everything seems overwhelming. till you find a little peace with someone else's company. or is it really peace?
pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x reader.
warnings: none yet.
word count: 782
author's note: i believe this is the first series i've ever written. i'm so excited for this cause i've been thinking about this plot for a while now. it's good to put in to work. hope you're all with me in this journey.
more of my writing if interested.
my mailbox is always open for suggestions, concepts and requests!
reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡
series masterlist ♡
you know what? i kinda do miss my parents house. or the apartment i shared with my friends. since i moved to live by myself things started going crazy. maybe i should've waited till the end of college to do this like everyone in my life advised me to.
but i don't like following advice. people should know that. monica and wanda should've locked me in my old room. now THAT would've helpful.
you know what's not helpful? this empty building. i swear ghosts live here. i've been living here for 2 weeks and barely heard any noise.
of course that seems peaceful, that was my first thought when i decided i would move here. but i come home everyday, with so many books, and bags, and groceries and not one soul has appeared to help me up the stairs.
at this point i've given up. i'm a strong girl, i can do this by myself. it's a mantra i've been saying 80 times a day these past few weeks.
i reach my apartment door, this time with my keys already in hand but still failing to balance everything while opening the door.
"do you need help?"i hear a voice on the other side of the hallway.
i jump a little from the scare. i didn't even see anyone. weird.
i turn around and see a guy with short hair, dressed in full black, multiple layers of clothing, and blue eyes gazed at me. standing at what i assume, his doorway slighted open, like he just got home too.
"no, no. thank you" i smile.
that's when i notice the small white furry animal with also blue eyes, with their face peeking out of the guy's door.
"oh my god!!! hii" i say, with a softer voice. the cat meows back. "oh wow, you're educated, he did a good job with you"
i hear the guy let out a small laugh.
"no… i got him not that long ago. he's well educated by himself… you sure you don't want help?" he says, coming into my direction.
"yeah don't worry i got this, look" i already unlocked the door, so i opened it with my foot "see?! i got this"
i open my door slightly and put my stuff on the little bench i keep close to the door.
"wow you're a pro"
"after 2 weeks i got my shit together" i laugh a bit, when i hear the little footsteps coming into my direction "oh hi buddy… you wanna say hi to the neighbor?"
i open the door a little more so he can see my cat, that when notices i'm not alone, runs really fast in the direction of mt bedroom.
i yell "hey that's not how i raised you"
he starts laughing at his door. "he's not that social, i can see… what's his name?"
"yeah he doesn't anyone besides me i guess" i let a small laugh "mike. it's a character from a tv show that i like. what's yours?"
"he's alpine" he says, grabbing the cat.
oh. he doesn't care about the cats fur on his clothes. nice.
"i guess his name is self explanatory" i let out a chuckle at his commentary.
"it is. oh, i'm (y/n) by the way."
i say getting close to him. i wanted to give him a hand shake but the hand went straight to the cats head giving it a pet.
"you're james i guess" i say reading his dog tags that are around his neck.
"...how do you know that?" he looks at me with his brows furrowed. oh my god he still looks hot like that.
"your dog tags" i chuckle. "unless you're using someone elses dog tags"
"...oh" he gives a small smile. "yeah, it's james"
"i'm not a witch or a mind reader, relax" i laugh. "ok i need to go home now. it was nice meeting you. thank you for the offer to help. it's kind of rare around here i found out"
"nice meeting you too. and it was nothing, don't worry. if you need anything, i'm right next door" he says with a… different kind of smile.
oh so he is that kind of guy. alright.
"ok. good night"
he says it back and we both close our doors.
i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding.
well, maybe it was a good idea i wasn't locked in my old room now that i think about it.
i let out a little smile as i shake my head, grabbing my things to organize everything and do my night routine.
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My Jolly Sailor Bold
Summary: Upstate New York, 1953. Bucky can't seem to stay out of the water.
Warning(s): Mentions of dead, PTSD, drowning, angst, some bickering, cursing, and overall spooky vibes
A/N: It's officially spooky season! I am so excited for this month and I have ambitious plans for more fics. Hopefully this time they are shorter than this, but I'm going to try my best to crank out as many Halloween specials this season! This is inspired by the song 'My Jolly Sailor Bold' that I stumbled upon last year. I hope you enjoy, and my requests are always open! Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Upstate New York, 1953
Bing Crosby Only Forever crackled through the radio, the headlights showing only what was a few feet in front of them. There were no lamplights on these backroads, the void of black consuming as they traveled northbound to the campsite. Trees enclosed the street, towering above in a stance wide and robust. Rock-filled ditches parallel to the car glinted against the sudden light, the murky water at the bottom reflective as it freely flowed. It was persuasive to be careful on these roads; one wrong move and you go tumbling into those sharp edges.
Nat leaned against the door, her feet propped up on the dashboard, and her face lined up with the vent to catch the cool air. Humidity was sticky, and she tied up her blouse, attempting to escape the heat. Steve drove, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on Nat's thigh, squeezing it every so often as she splayed out her limbs in search of comfort. Soft rain tapped against the window, a steady drizzle lulling Nat to sleep the majority of the ride upstate.
The car chugged onto a dirt road, mud flicking up behind the wheels as they hit every bump. Nat groaned miserably, and Steve quietly reassured her that the cabin was up ahead and that it'd only be a few more miles. He said that an hour ago. Bucky was shoved in the backseat, and he shifted uncomfortably, his legs cramped and feet crushed.
Already, he missed Brooklyn, the dank smell of the pavement reminiscent of his home borough. Country life never appealed to him like most. The odor of farm animals burned his nose, and the pestering bugs aggravated Bucky.
Already, he had declared war on a fly early on the ride. It kept landing on his face, and Bucky almost screamed when he felt it crawling around by his nostril. But, it was too quick for his attacks, and now his palm was bruised from hurling it at the window. Eventually, he struck a deal. He kept his side of the car, and the fly could have the other. Bucky even sat up, creating a border of pretzels that they couldn't cross.
It was futile, in hindsight, but it was the only thing that kept him from going insane.
Anyway, the fly never bothered him again, so maybe it wasn't worthless.
The car jerked to a stop, the engine rumbling as Nat popped open the door and stumbled out. She sighed, relief flooding her aching joints as she pulled down her blouse to capture the chill breeze. Headlights beamed on the small cabin, the rain falling harder. Small puddles formed, and at the end of the stairs was a hole- probably created by the years of shoes snapping up the gravel as they rushed up the stairs inside. Moss flourished on the old logs, giving the weathered wood extra life. The windows were opaque with dust and grime, and the bench that sat out front on the porch leaned to one side. The vent embedded into the veranda above the front door rattled, screws loose from the rotting wood as winds swept under it and pronounced a perpetual bang.
It looked abandoned, but Steve assured him that his family still visited every summer.
That's utter bullshit.
Bucky grumbled as he stepped out, knees weak and neck pinched. He rubbed his bunched muscles, rotating his shoulders to loosen them from the strenuous ride. They shoved him in the back with the rest of the luggage because the trunk was filled with food and supplies for the week. His body unwillingly contorting in search of scant comfort had Bucky miserable and irritated, resulting in a fierce tension headache. Rain pierced his cheeks, stabbing small knives into his skin. He grimaced and popped up his collar, digging his chin in his jacket, hiding in the little cover while he sent useless glares Steve's way.
He begrudgingly helped Steve carry the baggage to the cabin, insisting on leaving their belongings until morning. Steve counteracted, of course, and Nat hurried onto the porch, the sensor activating and creating a soft hue that barely illuminated the crooked boards. Bucky lugged Nat's suitcase inside, almost tripping on the loose metal threshold. Nat stifled a laugh, and Bucky shot a menacing look the way that made her laugh harder. Already, he couldn't wait to go home.
The dreary building revealed further damage as they situated themselves. Inside, moths circled the ceiling fan; the wood blades swamped in dust and dirt. Overall, the room smelled like damp basement musk as Steve rushed around, tidying the furniture and mumbling to himself about how messy his cousins were.
Buzzing lights were white noise as Bucky tossed his bag on the bed. It was a tight fit; the bunk was initially brought in for a child. He grumbled, miserable, cursing Steve out under his breath as he slid his suitcase in the slot below the frame. It creaked, the old mattress stained over the years, and springs yelling as rust and old age consumed its joints. He rubbed his eye with his wrist, pulling off his jacket and tossing it on the small chair in the corner. He situated himself, aching, his shoulders slumped as waves of exhaustion coursed his body. Lying down was tempting, the bed oddly inviting even though he knew he would have to curl up in a ball to be remotely comfortable.
Whispers found his ears, short gasps, and playful giggles. Though he was hurting, he understood Steve did this out of concern. Bouncing back from war was more difficult than any man enlisting had initially thought. Shoot Nazis! Liberate Europe! Sounds easy, right? Fun even, but when you are young and naïve, you want to be a hero. You want to create a name for yourself and honor your family. Instead, it dissolved you into a pile of mental illnesses and trust issues, paranoia clawing inside your throat with every step as the shadows seemingly grew bigger as you tried running away.
The road to recovery was bumpy and messy, and Bucky wasn't quite sure if he wanted to pretend that he was alright anymore.
One step forward, two steps back, it seemed.
Most men didn't come back, bodies decaying in the mud, flies, and maggots attacking their eyes and hollowing their faces. The GR unit (Grave Registration Unit) scoured the fields at night, hastily digging cheap graves for the fallen men or transporting them back to base to be sent home to their respective families. Bucky didn't sleep the night they brought their bodies back, listening to the workers hauling each fallen soldier onto the back of a truck to be sent to a base where they would prepare the bodies to be shipped home.
He fiddled with his dog tags those nights. Without them, he would be another unmarked grave.
Stationed in south Germany, Bucky led his team north through thick woods and Nazi artillery. Although he wasn't at sea fighting against the Japanese, which he was thankful for, he witnessed the genuine heartache of soldiers silently suffering as bullet holes, cuts, and shrapnel tore their skin apart like thin paper. Blood bubbled at their mouths, their weak cries drowned by gunfire and shouts of other men who were ripped apart by advanced German machine guns that hid in the sanctuary of the thick forest. Burns blistered through their tattered uniforms, sweat and tears streaking their cheeks as they prayed to God to be able to see their mom's one last time, God. Let me see my mama- that had Bucky coughing himself awake at night, frantically searching his body for that bullet that pierced through his chest.
He rubbed at the scar in memory, again fiddling with his dog tags before stepping out.
Nat organized the kitchen, Steve wiping the grime off the stove and counters when Bucky entered. The kitchen was small, the walking space the size of a hallway then flowing out into an opening with a round table. Wilted flowers wept in a chipped vase, the water grimy and filled with decaying chunks of leaves. Steve shuffled behind Nat, her head stuck in the refrigerator as she arranged the containers, and she jumped when a firm hand connected with her ass.
Her face blended with her red hair, and she glared at him before jerking her head at Bucky. Steve's cheeks burned, and Bucky chuckled, dropping his head into his chest to hide his smile. Ever since Steve and Nat have been dating, Bucky has been their third wheel. Not that Bucky minded, he used to be a ladies man, charming and enticing, a new woman on his arm every night. It was bittersweet, almost. Nat was fiery, and she could pack a punch. Unfortunately, Bucky had been on the receiving end after one particularly drunken night, but she was good for Steve after the war.
Anyway, he deserved that punch.
Beers clinked as Bucky took a seat at the table, silent, sipping on his drink as Steve and Nat chatted about plans. He stared at a picture on the wall, young men painted in black and white, smiling proudly, holding a fish with a nasty hook jutting through its gill. Bucky guessed it was someone from Steve's family, all sharing the same nose and facial structure as him.
Popping open another bottle, Bucky tossed the cap in the trash across the room.
Steve raised an eyebrow, impressed.
"Still have good aim after all these years, Buck?"
Bucky smiled, tight-lipped, and shrugged, "Just luck," he sipped his beer, "I couldn't do it again if I tried."
"I dunno," Nat said, jumping up on the counter, swinging her legs, "You never miss."
"How do you know, Romanoff?"
She grinned, "Steve told me about your stories together; that's all I know."
Steve sheepishly smiled, his cheeks tinted. Bucky furrowed his brow, the crease in his forehead deepening as he gazed at his friend. He sighed, anxious. How much did Steve tell her? Bucky hoped it was only the good parts, even if they were scarce.
He cleared his throat, "Steve-"
"It slipped out."
"I don't care if it slipped out."
"Well," Steve swallowed thickly, "I didn't think you'd care that much."
Bucky muttered, "It's not my proudest moment."
"Well, we all have things we aren't proud of, Buck-" Steve fumbled with his words, not ready to have this conversation with his friend, "You just need some help-"
"That's why I'm here?" Bucky pressed, glaring with that dead look he mastered over the years. Steve gulped.
Bucky was out of the room before Steve could finish, quickly slipping past Nat like a fish and swimming into his room. It was trivial to walk away like that, but he couldn't help the way he felt. Pinpointing how he felt was different, however, but the intense feeling of pressure was so overbearing that he genuinely believed his chest was flooding with water. He tried breaching the surface and gasping for air, but since he came home, it always seemed like he was stuck underwater. His head was fuzzy and throbbing, the tension squeezing his temples until he was convinced he was going to explode.
He perched on the edge of the bed, leg bouncing as he massaged his temples. Distorted gunfire rang in his ears, and his heart thumped like a bass drum, pounding against his body so prominently he could feel it in his wrist. Bucky's breathing quickened, and he stripped off his shirt. The bed dipped under his weight as he situated himself, and he draped his arm over his eyes, the sweat on his forehead soaking his greasy hair, and it stuck to the nape of his neck.
Rain tapped against the window, the wind howling as Bucky attempted to control his thoughts. He understood Steve was trying to help, trying to get him out of his stuffy apartment in Brooklyn and live for once.
"The great outdoors," Steve joked, nudging Bucky while they sat on his fire escape, the metal cold against the backs of their thighs, "It could do you good, Buck. I promise."
"When did you ever know what you're talkin' 'bout, Rogers?"
Steve scoffed, sarcastically, "Since I saved your ass in Germany, Sergeant."
It took two months of constant pestering before Bucky agreed, not wanting to disappoint his friend further. After multiple missed calls, poor excuses, and just plain bailing to get out of social gatherings, Bucky felt obligated to go with Steve and Nat, his girlfriend. Though Nat was sweet, helping Steve through his issues, Bucky was distant and standoffish, not wanting to open up to his only friend, only for him to relay back to his girlfriend.
Sucks because Bucky was right.
Darkness enveloped the room when the hallway light flicked off, and Bucky shifted uncomfortably in bed. He flirted with sleep, exhaustion crashing against him in steady waves until his eyelids felt too heavy to keep open. The red eyes peering in through his window left Bucky unaware as he turned on his side, brought his knees up to his chin, and grumbled in discomfort.
His back was going to hurt like hell.
His back hurt like hell.
The last time it ached this bad was when he worked on Sam's busted Chevy for the entire week. God, he hated that fucking day. Sam bitched and moaned for hours and sat on a bucket handing Bucky the tools to fix his transmission. Bucky was sure he was going to kill Sam if he didn't shut the fuck up.
The temptation to throw the goddamn wrench at him was reaching unthinkable heights. Maybe he'd widened that gap between Sam's teeth. However, Bucky just threatened to leave when Sam complained that his body hurt and needed to go inside and lay down for a few hours. The sun broiled Bucky's skin, leaving him burnt and red, his taut skin tightened like in dry leather, inflexible and stiff. He shed like a snake molting when he got home that night, dried and crusted clumps flaking off his shoulders and cheeks.
He cursed Sam out the next morning, his eyes flaring as his raw, vulnerable skin refused to mold with the physical expressions Bucky presented. Even scowling had him wincing, resulting in giving Sam the silent treatment for the remainder of his time working on the car.
Sam buckled after a few days, relenting and taking Bucky out to the bar as his apology and to show his appreciation.
Overall, it was a bad week.
Bucky watched the water ripple, the gray clouds lazily hanging overhead as Steve struggled to start the engine on the boat. They sat in the middle of the lake, a bucket sparse with only a handful of small fish that wouldn't even satisfy a cat's tummy. Sitting at the bow, the older man accompanying them on the trip– supposedly an old friend of Steve's dad– droned on about a lake monster he had seen a few weeks prior. He breathed through his mouth, chapped lips smacking together that annoyed Bucky to the point he resisted the urge to punch the old bastard into the water where that goddamn sea monster apparently lived.
"It got 'em big fin on its back with spikes and a long slimy tail 'bout ten long," He explained, looping the fishing line to the hook, "I saw it- I swear to God my heart leaped outta my chest, son. It's in these waters, I know it. And imma catch it ones these days."
Steve hummed in response, not listening, and cranked the engine again and again. Bucky wanted to drown himself more and more with every passing second. When Steve released a defeated groan, Bucky peered at his distressed friend. Dark spots of sweat peaked out from under his armpits, his jacket discarded and thrown haphazardly over his fishing pole.
"Need help?" Bucky asked, almost hopefully, praying to get a distraction, so he didn't have to listen to the crazy old man, "I can-"
"No, it's just being difficult," Steve chuckled, trying to be lighthearted, "I'll get us outta here," He sniffed and wiped his brow, "Anyway, Nat'll kill me if I don't get us back for dinner on time."
Bucky visibly grimaced and sighed, animatedly dropping his head in despair. Steve sent a pitiful tug of his mouth, and Bucky's stomach dropped. He mumbled to himself, trying to keep his temper at bay as the old man blissfully blabbered. Bucky accepted he was going to be stuck here for a while and decided to humor him, half turning to face the bastard that Steve had insisted on tagging along. Finn smoked a cigarette and grabbed the tackle box to put away his supplies.
"So you've seen it?" Bucky reluctantly asked, stretching his back as the knot in it began to tighten. The old man's eyes flashed with interest and he visibly perked up.
'By God I did." He swore, his eyes bulging out of his head from Bucky's feigned interest.
"What is it exactly? You talk about it like it's Loch Ness."
Finn boyishly grinned, adjusting his hat, "Well, half the county's pets have gone missing. Dogs, cats, rodents," He tossed the line in the water, "It'll take anything that'll get in the water. That's why we ain't catching no motherfucking fish no more; they're all eaten."
"Maybe there's a few hawks or bears in the area." Steve reasoned, ripping at the cord again. The engine sputtered out.
"I ain't seen no hawk or bear take a grown man." The old bastard smacked his lips, "Snatch him up like a rabid coyote does a poor bunny."
"A man?" Bucky asked, not meaning for his tone to sound more like a challenge.
"Mhm," He deftly nodded, "Man 'bout your age. Went into the water even though we told him not to, and we haven't seen him since. Ms. Fantail's daughter is his wife, and she told us he'd been hearing, I dunno, singing? Or was it screaming for weeks before he went in?Bastard left a child behind."
"Who says he didn't just skip town? Family life is tough." Bucky said.
"They found his shoe on shore a few days later. Anyway, he was devoted, and he loved his family, so I dunno what made him get in."
"Mkay, let's say it's real. What is it?"
Finn scoffed, tapping the line, then crossed his arms, "Beats the fuck outta me, son. Stupid librarian in town keeps preaching it's some pagan god-type'a bullshit that she read in a book."
Bucky smiled thinly and nodded, losing interest and letting the old guy live in his fantasy. Steve glanced at Bucky, concern written plain on his face as he continued to screw with the engine. Bucky ignored them, dissatisfied, his back was in agony, and all he wanted to do was go back to the cabin and sleep.
They stayed out on the water, the sun peeping past the layer of gray every so often to say hello. Bucky basked in its warm rays, easing the tension in his shoulders as he lounged with his legs propped up on the tackle box. It was a brief appearance, the clouds swallowing the pleasant beams, and snapping Bucky back to his misery.
Hours trickled by, and Steve was too stubborn to give up. A small radio was stored in a backpack, and Bucky advocated to signal the police so they could be tugged to shore. Steve argued, his pride now on the line, and continued to tinker with the engine. When it coughed alive after one fierce yank, Steve practically fell out of the boat in excitement.
The boat violently rocked as he steadied himself, too caught up in the moment to care as Bucky clung on for dear life. His nose came close to the edge of the water, his reflection clear as day as he looked at himself. It was when the boat tilted to the other side he saw a glimpse of another face. A distorted pallid face with deep red undertones that had shivers travel up Bucky's spine. When the boat steadied, slightly rocking, he quickly looked back, almost throwing himself over the side, but was met with murky water and his reflection again.
His eyebrow creased. What the fuck was that? It almost looked human, but he couldn't believe someone would be hovering under the water like that. Especially so willingly.
He eagerly reached his hand in the water, the murky liquid opaque around his pale skin. It sloshed around, speckling his sleeve. The chill cascaded shivers across his body, and he blindly probed his hand around, searching for anyone to grab on, and no one ever did.
Bucky hesitantly pulled his hand to his side, awkwardly flicking it and wiping it on his thigh. He looked at the lake dubiously, scanning the area in case anyone decided to emerge. He raised himself, the old man cheerfully laughing at Steve's euphoric expression. Bucky steeled himself, chuckling at his best friend, the tension of maybe having to stay the night on a dinky boat not so promising.
"Let's get outta 'ere," Steve announced admirably, positioning the rudder to turn toward the dock," 'M starving."
The singing started that night but progressed for days. An almost inaudible whisper barely caught his attention, and at first, he wrote it off as music from the small radio in the living room. But tonight, it was louder. Slow and melodic, the voice rolled with sorrowful waves. It was low, faint, and melancholy. It mesmerized him. It reminded him of a music box his mother left playing for him on his bedside table when he was younger.
Hauntingly beautiful, the words, rather than just a soft hum, matured into clear pronunciation.
Upon one summer's morning,
I carelessly did stray.
Down by the Walls of Wapping,
Where I met a sailor gay
The bright flashlight beam reflected off the dark water—the dock dipping and swaying as shallow waves crashed into the sand. A steady shh shh made it hard to hear as the tide rolled against the coast. He carefully watched the water, the song drifting away with the gentle waves that had him craving more. He scanned the area where he thought the sound was coming from, but it felt like it was getting farther away.
It was dreamlike, the song capturing him in this trance that crawled around his heart and mind, entirely seducing him. Fog blurred Bucky's vision, and he became antsy, wanting more, his body rigid as the song weakened. Where are you? He thought, slightly irritated, the palms of his hands clammy.
Where are you?
His voice echoed, startled, his tone strangled as he tried to grasp who was singing this late at night. Why hadn't Steve and Nat woken up? It was clear and pristine. The woman, whoever she was, sat out in the dark, maybe by the tree line- perhaps behind the cabin- maybe- he didn't know. But it was a cruel trick.
The whisper enclosed him, his head full of little hums and rhythm, his heart thumping to the beat of the phantom ballad.
Conversing with a young lass
Who seem'd to be in pain
Saying 'William, when you go, I fear you will ne'er be seen again.'
The round hue of the weak lamplight glowed on Bucky's slumped shoulders. His mind raced for an explanation, flying through possibilities until he convinced himself it must've been a prank. Steve warned both Nat and Bucky about the residential kids how they rode their bikes to the other side of town to scare Steve's baby cousins. Steve didn't know if it was just for the thrill of being chased off by Steve's uncle or if they did it to be cruel.
Steve supposed it was why daredevil's jumped out of planes or why derby drivers got the kick out of ramming their car into other cars. Adrenaline. That chemical reaction exploding in your body that spiked your heart rate and has you running until you physically can't anymore. Bucky felt it on the dock, but nothing was chasing him. There were no crickets, no croaking frogs, no singing, nothing. But he sensed something watching him, though, and the hair on the back of his neck stood upright, and goosebumps prickled his skin. He stood alone in the dark and waited to see whoever hid behind the cover of the bushes to appear.
No one ever emerged.
Headlights fanned over his figure.
Bucky nestled his chin in his collar, trying to think clearly. If those teenagers decided to play that prank again, he might have to call the police. This was costing him sleep, and the dark bags under Bucky's eyes were proof. Nat tried to subtly comment on it, Steve readying to speak up when Bucky swiftly turned out of the room. His head hurt too much to care about their concern, waking up with a migraine that forced him to stay in bed all day.
His mind kept circling back to the face he saw below the surface. Its long hair mindlessly swayed with the undertow of the water as big black eyes curiously watched him from above. The redness encircling its eyes stood out from its pallid skin, and Bucky couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness that stubbornly planted itself in his stomach. He desired to reach for a pack of cigarettes, but he quit years ago. Anyway, his mom would come back from the grave just to smack sense into him.
Lost in thought, he didn't notice Steve walk outside until a newspaper was slapped on his lap. The headline caught Bucky's attention, his fingers teasing the edges of the paper.
Dead Body Found: Mayor's Son's Body Found Floating In Lake
"Somethin's out there, Buck." Steve suddenly said, sitting on one of the creaky rocking chairs.
"I never knew you to be imaginative, Rogers." Bucky joked.
"Buck, I mean it."
His serious tone set Bucky on edge.
"That's scary," Bucky grunted.
Steve sighed, controlled, however. Steve always was controlled. "His body was found a couple of miles away from where we were," Steve points at the newspaper, "He's been missing for three weeks now."
"What's this got anything to do with 'Something's out there?
"Mayor claims he heard things just like that other guy. The one with the wife and kid, you remember who, right? Yeah, he was last seen by the dock the night he went missing. At least, that's what I heard from Finn." Steve clarified. He clicked his tongue, "This is the fifth boy who's turned up dead."
"Must be a killer on the loose."
Steve shook his head. He knew something was out there, and Bucky could see his belief plain on his face. This annoyed Bucky. "I think they are closing off the dock until they figure out what- or who is killing these boys. Until then, we stay away from it."
"What?" Bucky gritted out.
"What do you mean, what?" Bucky's eyebrows lifted at the curtness of Steve's tone.
"The water-" Bucky choked out. His stomach churned. Steve was looking at him eagerly, and Bucky had to work hard to keep his expression neutral, "Why can't we go in the water?"
"Because I said." He said firmly.
Bucky grumbled. He grumbled in a way Steve only knew he grumbled.
Bucky struggled to contain his annoyance. The only good thing about being up at the cabin was the lake. It reminded him of the ocean, his father's demanding voice shouting above the unrest of the crashing waves and the breeze whipping in his hair. The long black strands loosened from his low bun and flew with the salty wind. Bucky always had to scrub his scalp to get the greasiness out.
Bucky scoffed, agitated. How could Steve keep him from the one thing he's enjoyed this entire trip? His friend was just trying to find an outlet to blame for everything going on these past months. The townspeople too, and they just couldn't accept that a murder had corrupted their precious Christian town. "When did you become all religious?" Bucky griped, his peevish tone surprising him.
"This has nothing to do with God."
Bucky shook his head, eyes hardened, and the bitterness bubbled in his chest and crawled up his throat, "Seems to be if you are really gonna believe in a fuckin fairy tale."
Steve tilted his head, puzzled by Bucky's demeaning snarl, "Why are you so defensive?"
"Why are you so defensive?"
Steve stared at Bucky for a long time, noticing how bloodshot his eyes were when the light clearly showed his face. Steve's expression tightened. "You're running on fumes, Buck. You need to go to sleep."
"You aren't listening to me.' Steve expressed, exasperated. Bucky carelessly threw the newspaper on the table, knocking it into the ashtray. Clumps of ashes are scattered across the article, and Steve hurriedly wiped them off with one deft movement with his wrist. Bucky rolled his eyes and lazily propped his ankle on his knee, leaning his head back. Still, he couldn't believe his best friend would fall down such a twisting rabbit hole full of conspiracy theories and lies.
Bucky sighed, for once resting his sore eyes. "Yes, I am; I'm just not believing you."
The front door snapped shut, severing the dispute. Both men looked at Nat, one with relief and the other with frustration. Her sunglasses perched on her nose, and an aggravated crease in her brow prompting them to still. She indignantly snapped, poking a provocative finger at Bucky. "You two sound like an old married couple for fuck's sake," Nat said sharply. Her tone clipped. "Grow up."
Bucky's cheeks reddened, and he abruptly stood. He loomed over her, but she only clicked her tongue, impatient. Bucky knew he wouldn't do anything to her; he was just upset, but he couldn't avoid the unintentional curtness in his voice when he spat, "What 'bout you learn not to butt in, Natasha?"
She dipped her head, her pointed eyes narrowing, "Why don't you shut the fuck up, Barnes?"
Bucky glared at her, narrowing his eyes with a furrowed brow, "Why don't we calm down?" Steve suggested, his voice meek against their aggressiveness. They both silently stood there, their stubbornness not allowing them to look away. Eventually, Nat leaned back on her heels and cordially addressed her boyfriend.
"I was calm till mister over here decided his misery wants company." Nat snapped, vehemently, "Blame him."
"Grow up." Bucky mocked her and shoved past her into the cabin.
Nat mumbled something that he couldn't hear, and it's not like he wanted to anyway. And Bucky sulked back into his room, waiting patiently for nightfall so he could catch those kids.
"Nat's gonna be out there for hours, ya know?" Bucky muttered, sliding into the booth, "If you let her, she'll drain your whole bank account."
"That's why-" Steve grunted roughly, the edge of the table slamming into his stomach. Bucky smirked, satisfied, slightly tilting his head to get a better look at his friend. Steve exhaled, and grabbed the table, and positioned it back. Bucky's smug grin seared into the blonde's brain.
Steve spoke, at last, trying to hide his impatience, "I gave her an allowance."
Bucky wanted to show how annoyed he was out in town. He wanted to be by the water, listening to the tides roll in and the wind brush against trees. The leaves were just starting to turn color, his favorite time of the year, and Steve forced him along with Nat because of her insatiable habit of buying souvenirs.
"You're just a pessimist," Steve declared, sitting neatly, "Loosen up, Buck."
"I'm fine when I'm at the cabin." Bucky said defiantly, scanning the menu, "There's no people at the cabin."
Steve sighed, ignoring Bucky's attitude and picking up the menu. A nice waitress jotted their drinks, her hand gently resting on Bucky's shoulder as she spoke. Her gaze never left Bucky's, only talking to him as Steve ordered his beer.
She hummed, satisfied, and sashayed away. Her hips flicked from side to side as she peered over her shoulder to see if Bucky was looking. He wasn't, of course, out of respect for himself and out of dismay of being in this dinky dinner in the first place. m
"She's pretty," Steve mentioned.
"If you say so."
"Maybe you should ask her out."
Bucky solemnly looked up, peered at the waitress, then shook his head, mumbling. Steve audibly sighed, then asked if Bucky knew what he wanted. The bell above the front door chimed, and a woman with a tight black skirt and blouse walked in. Her glasses are big on her face, and her blonde, almost white hair is hung loosely in a messy bun. Red lipstick, slightly smudged, coated her thin lips, and she shuffled in. A book was held tightly to her chest, and she dug through her purse and pulled out a silver cigarette box.
She lit the cigarette, the smoke curling around her face as she sat down at the bar. Steve kicked Bucky in the shin, and Bucky whipped to glare daggers at his friend. Steve leaned in excitedly, whispering, "I think that's the librarian."
"Ok?" Bucky said, confused, "Why are you whispering?"
"Shuddup!" Steve hissed.
Bucky scowled, confused, and stared with penetrating eyes. He bit back a growl. Steve ignored him and batted his hands away when Bucky reached for a bread roll that sat on the table. Anger bubbled in Bucky's throat. First, he gets dragged out here, and now he can't have a piece of bread? His anger radiated, but Steve only kicked his shin again, causing Bucky to kick him back harder.
Bucky scrunched his nose in irritation, looking sarcastically at his friend. Steve stared at him, blandly expectant, red inching up his neck, but turned when a sweet voice called his name. "Mr. Rogers?" The librarian nervously called. She carefully smiled when Steve stood and reached out his hand. She shook it, and Steve gestured for her to sit down. Bucky reluctantly scooted over, and she gently sat, her book placed in her lap, "You called me this morning to talk?"
Steve nodded vigorously; his Brooklyn accent thickened as he spoke, "Yeah, I uh, I wanted to talk about your theories about… uh.."
"Yes!" Steve excitedly exclaimed a little too loud but shrunk back in his seat, embarrassed. People turned and glared. She giggled. Bucky peered at her soft profile. "Finn mentioned you, and I thought I'd come to ask you myself. This is my friend, Bucky." Bucky awkwardly waved, she waved back,
"But what I'm getting at is I want to know what a siren is."
"You mean was," the librarian corrected, subtly gesturing if she could continue. Steve nodded, and she lightly smiled, "Siren's actually originate from Greek mythology, and they are half-human, half-bird. But, as time progressed, they turned more into mermaids than deadly hawks plucking people out of the sky," She plopped the book down on the table, flipping through the pages and landing on one with a picture of a siren and some sailors desperately trying to resist their enticing song.
"Siren's are a symbol of dangerous temptation embodied by women during the 17th century when Christianity rose in popularity. Everyone thought them to be a myth for hundreds of years until I found some unsolved case files. All men, most sailors, were lured into the water by something. But the common theme here is that their wives and friend's all testify that they were seduced by a strange woman who sang a song about love. Now, I don't know if evolution is on their side, but my theory is that they are walking amongst humans."
She raised her hands in surrender at their skeptical looks, "I get it. Sounds crazy, but if you look at all the evidence, it doesn't seem so bizarre. I dunno how they do it. Has to be some genetic mutation or something, but I'm not expecting you to believe me. Recently, more cases of missing persons have been reported. The majority of the bodies are found in lakes and ponds, with no physical wounds or signs of struggle. All drowned."
"So you're telling me…." Steve paused. He puckered his lips in concentration, "That anyone could be a vicious lust-filled sea monster that kills for the thrill?"
She nodded briskly, "Precisely."
Steve leaned back in the booth, taken aback. Bucky just stayed put, wondering how the hell this lady hasn't been thrown into a mental asylum. Everything she spewed was in fairytales and myths, and Bucky almost wished he could smack Steve across the face. Maybe that'd put some goddamn sense into him for once.
"How'd you get the case files?" Bucky found himself asking as if attempting to find a fault in her research. She peered at him and gave him a little grin.
"My uncle works for the police department. When the cases went cold, I asked if I could have them since they weren't used anymore."
Bucky bit the insides of his cheeks then hummed in contentment. He had trouble finding the truth in her story, but he brushed it aside when he noticed her optimism. How she tapped her manicured nails against the hardback of the book, and how she happily bounced in her seat like a child. He supposed it was because someone was finally listening to her speak.
Of course, Steve would be the one to indulge in her delirious fantasy.
Steve suddenly leaned in, scanning the papers and continuing to ask questions that didn't pique Bucky's interest. Instead, he decided to focus on the table cloth, and he folded it, unfolded it, and folded it again.
"But what I'm getting at is I want to know everything."
Bucky raised his head, his eyes flickering up, emerging from his memory, returning to the present where he wasn't staring at dark black eyes.
The librarian raised her eyebrows and stubbed the cigarette bud out in the ashtray. "There's a lot of everything." She said, amicably, "We might need to go back to the library to get my notes."
Steve looked at Bucky, his eyes flashing with something Bucky couldn't catch on. Steve smiled warmly, suddenly grabbing her hands and standing, "That's fine. We have all day."
Bucky eyes widened.
Bucky's mouth was pinched shut, his forehead creased, and his shoulders tense. The knot in his back tightened subtly as he leaned against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette. He had bought some after he visited the lake. The singing never wavered even with a police investigation.
Police tape denied entry, and he rolled to a stop. The county deputy knocked on his window.
"Sorry, son, but the lake is up for investigation," He explained, lazily resting his elbow on the side view mirror, "Gotta go somewhere else if you wanna go fishin'."
Bucky looked past him, at the water. It was enticing to him. Almost mocking him. The waves shushed him as his mind screamed. He turned to the officer with a faint smile.
"My bad, officer. I'll be outta your hair."
The deputy tipped his hat and strolled away. Bucky reversed the car and left. Down the street, out of view, he rode the coast of the lake. Wire fencing and guardrails blocked his access, and he shook his head, trying to make sense of the longing feeling swelling up in his chest.
He needed to get to the lake.
But every attempt was met with failure—Steve, the police, and now this stupid fencing.
A sudden burst of anger exploded within him. His palms smacked against the steering wheel, and he pulled the car off to the side of the road, throwing it in park. The throb in his heart was so strong it frightened him. It pulsated in his ears, and he kept smashing his hands into the steering wheel in despair.
He drove to the nearest drug store, buying a pack of Malborne to calm his fidgety nerves. His hands violently shook as he cupped the flame, dipping his head and bringing his fourth cigarette to the controlled fire to lite. Smoke and nicotine flooded his senses, and he deeply inhaled, his body reluctantly calming and slumping against the ragged bricks that poked and prodded at his leather jacket. He remembered the librarian and how Steve dragged him to her office so he could hear her little spiel. Bucky didn't know why Steve brought him along, maybe in an attempt to convince him of this mythical bullshit creature. He didn't know.
The water kept calling for him to return, and he ached to feel the wind brush against his face. The police were stubborn about no one entering. The mayor's son's death was the straw that broke the camel's back. The mayor's son was probably kidnapped for ransom then killed. All those other boys? Their deaths were ruled an accident as the cause of death was determined to be drowning.
Bucky stood blank-faced, nothing special, leaning against the librarian's desk. But the librarian kept stealing glances his way. She was cute; he had to admit. But he had more meaningful ways to spend his time other than flirting with the town's nutcase.
She smelled like cigarettes and mints, and Bucky couldn't forget the tentative smile she sent him every time they locked eyes. A pink blush fanned his cheeks when she stole another glimpse of him, and he shifted uncomfortably, positioning himself to stand. The library was barren, the doors propped open to let the chilly breeze circulate the building.
The librarian faced Steve, explaining to him the history of this Siren, even reviewing case files. Steve looked invested, which angered Bucky, all this time wasted over some fairy tale.
But Bucky's mind raced, those black eyes staring at him every time he blinked. He felt queasy, his thoughts jarring, and he clenched his jaw in concentration. He didn't feel the brush of wind or the hesitant hand hovering above his shoulder. He was so lost, his imagination gripping the reins of his fragile coherency. He jolted when someone reached out and touched his arm. Bucky whipped around, startled, readying his fist to swing, but recognized the face. It was the waitress from the diner.
"Are you alright?" She asked.
She wore a concerned expression, her fur coat hugging her body at just the right angle. It made her breast almost spill out of her shirt. Bucky bowed his head, ashamed. How he had let this thing ravage his mind these past days was embarrassing, and he sighed, frustrated.
"'M fine, miss."
She looked skeptical, "Darlin', you're as pale as a ghost, are you sure?"
He slid his hands into his jacket pockets and glanced around warily. A cold sweat broke out above his brow, and Bucky tried his best to resist how her perfume invaded his nose. The sweet smell of passion fruit and something else. It was shockingly intimate, and it felt like he was standing pressed against her, his body crushing hers with his weight.
He shrugged, chuckling nervously and sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.
She pulled out her own cigarette, and without thinking, Bucky was holding out his lighter, open flame. Her eyes were black, and she easily leaned in, the red glow of the embers catching his attention as she released an extended breath.
Smoke billowed into his face. He looked away.
"If it makes you feel better, I'm in the same boat as you." She said suddenly. Bucky didn't know what she was referring to, and she caught onto his bewilderment. She dryly laughed, "The lake monster- or Siren that crazy librarian likes to put it. I couldn't be bothered with it."
Bucky laughed, short. "Most people in this town couldn't disagree more."
"They're all crazy," She snorted, her hands touching his biceps, her fingertips lightly grazing over the fabric. Her touch made him shiver, and he met her lustful gaze, "Why should we believe in them?"
He shrugged, "Majority rule, doll."
"Bullshit." She spat and took a long drag of her cigarette. For once since his arrival, he felt like someone finally understood him. Like he wasn't the only sensible one inhabiting this god forbidden town.
He stubbed his cigarette with his heel and glanced at her. Her plump lips wrapped around the stick made him tingle, and he felt his blood rush to his face.
She turned to him with a crooked smile, almost killing her cigarette with the heel of her pumps. She leaned into Bucky, her breath acrid with the blunt smell of tobacco, "What about I make you forget all the trouble, sugar—Jus' you and me tonight?"
The electric feeling she emitted made his pulse leap. Bucky glanced at the car. He had snuck out with it this evening, and he would feel guilty if he didn't go back to the cabin soon. Steve was probably pacing holes in the living room rug, Nat leisurely sitting on the couch and talking reason into him. But a sour taste coiled his tongue at the thought of them and how they kept him locked up in the cabin. Wasn't the point of this trip to get him to go out more? Be more social?
She squealed as he gripped her hips and pulled her to his chest. Bucky's breath fanned over her cheeks, and her chest flushed, the color creeping up her throat and into her face. She planted a sloppy kiss on his neck, pulling back and grinning coyly.
Well, he was going to do just that.
It was the witching hour.
He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he woke up.
Bucky stirred, his limbs stiff as he laid cramped up in the bed. He tried going back to sleep, a deep warmth radiating somewhere on his chest. He nuzzled into it, his arm wrapping around her body as she laid her head on him. A soft hum resonated from the window, but he ignored it. Resisting the urge to flip to his side, Bucky played with the ends of her hair. It was coarse and brittle, hair spray ruining the softness, and dead ends crumbled under his fingertips. She snored lightly, a small puddle of drool forming right beside his armpit. It slightly disgusted him, but he stayed put, screwing shut his eyes in an attempt to get some well-deserved sleep.
Explaining to Steve and Nat about his little stunt was a morning problem, and he benched the thought. Bucky filtered through various hot topics in his mind, wishing it would shut off for once and let him peacefully sleep. But he always circled back to the dark pupils, blown out of proportion, staring back at Bucky. The deep red undertone surrounding its waterline contrasted brightly compared to the colorless skin. Even past the disoriented-looking glass of the murky water, he saw it clearly. The curiosity ate him alive.
Nothing could wipe that searing imagine from the backs of his eyelids.
That soft hum transformed into a boom, and Bucky shot up, his legs tangling with the blanket as he frantically tried to break free. The floor met his forehead, and Bucky miserably groaned at the surge of pain pulsating above his eye. "Shit," he muttered, scrambling to stand, "Shit. Shit. Shit."
He grabbed his leather jacket, easily sliding it on, and crept out of the room. The singing was loud, a lot louder than usual, and he struggled to focus as he plucked the keys of Steve's car off the counter.
My heart is pierced by Cupid,
I disdain all glittering gold.
There is nothing can console me,
But my jolly sailor bold.
He carried his boots, walking across the cold linoleum floor toward the door. Her curtains were drawn, and the small house was swallowed by darkness. Bucky tried his best to remember the place's layout, but he didn't get the best view when all he was focused on were how soft her lips were and how her hands desperately roamed his body.
He tried his best not to hit anything on the way out. He tipped toed down a flight of stairs to the foyer.
He pulled on the door, but it stuck, and Bucky had to tug more forcefully until the hinges gave in with a shrill squeak. He froze momentarily and waited for the padding of soft footsteps. Her sweet voice, drowned in disappointment, asking Where are you going? Bucky's heart thudded at the thought, and he peered toward the bedroom. He only saw darkness.
Steve and Nat would probably be waiting for him. Nat passed out while Steve patiently sat on the porch, his leg bouncing in anticipation. Bucky regretted leaving his friend high and dry and rushed to the car to unlock it. He fumbled with the keys before angrily jamming it in the lock, swiftly opening the door. The engine roared to life, and Bucky floored it.
Sweat dampened his back, his shirt sticking to his skin as he shifted uncomfortably. The cabin wasn't far away, and Bucky struggled to focus on the road. Its voice rang in his ear like a perpetual whisper, and he switched off the radio to sit in silence.
When the cabin came into view, Bucky slowed the car to a halt just before the driveway. The porch light was on, the yellow hue illuminating the stairs. He looked for Steve but didn't see him. It must've been too cold to sit outside.
Bucky's fingertips grazed over the gearshift, his consciousness raging in a civil war. He knew he had to go home. Steve was probably on the verge of a stroke by now, but Bucky fought with himself. He urged himself to move forward. The lake was behind him, and he resisted the temptation to go to it. Anyway, there would be police officers on patrol, and he wouldn't get very far.
However, a new energy flooded him- a recklessness that gave him courage- and he impulsively threw the car around and floored it to the lake.
Headlights reflected off the caution tape and skimmed past onto the dark water. The car door clicked shut, and he ducked under the barriers, storming past Do Not Enter signs. The lake was silent but for the sound of his ragged breathing. He staggered onto the dock, carefully watching the water. There was nothing, now. Not one sound. He grew irritated and began to curse under his breath. This was useless. Whoever was messing with him must've fled when he barreled out of the car in a frenzy.
Fog floated above the water like disembodied ghosts, the silence deafening to his ears. Earlier, everything was screaming. Why did it suddenly stop? He reached down and grabbed a pebble, using all his force to throw it at the water. Where are you? Where are you? He wanted to yell. To shout. Let all his built-up frustrations out and let whoever out there know he was on the brink of insanity.
His fist clenched at his sides, the knuckles white, and he felt a warm liquid cascade through his palms. An immense pressure pounded his temples as he took shallow breaths. The headlights died, and Bucky was blinded, the dark swallowing him whole until his eyes adjusted. The moon shone brightly, the water gleaming with its pale beams. He watched the changeable gray of the lake as it swelled and sank, and inside, he felt his heart swell as well. He didn't know if it was anger or defeat. But he stumbled backward, his head throbbing, and made his way toward the car before he heard it.
That sweet voice echoed through the air.
His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal
My happiness attend him wherever he may go
From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan
All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home
Shivers erupted on his skin, and he stared at the shadow that stood in front of him. The lady sat upon the dock; her back turned toward him, the melody she sang purred to the soul, piercing through and capturing his heart. Bucky felt a sense of familiarity, and he didn't realize that he was walking toward her. She stood, her bare body revealing itself and his gaze shifted to her firm, youthful breasts. Her skin was pallid, and her hair fair and thin. Sharp fins protruded from her back and forearms, but her face was soft and round with thin lips.
A dreadful chill ran down his spine. When his eyes met hers, they were black. A deep abyss waiting to swallow him whole. His knees almost gave out under him, but he managed to keep himself from falling. She smiled, thin lips stretching as she tilted her head, her eyes languidly scanning his body, up and down, before landing on his lips.
"Remember me?" She softly asked, her voice alluring. She tilted her head to the other side as if she were trying to get a better look at him.
His temples thrummed.
He shook his head, lost in the abyss.
"Good," She said flatly. She had webbing in between her fingers, pale scales reflected off the moonlight, "I suppose I still got it after all these years."
Bucky mindlessly nodded, and he felt a sweet, warm buzz spreading over him. A small charge electrified his skin as her fingertips grazed his cheek. He wanted to back away, and his mind frantically screamed and flashed danger throughout him. But it was as if he was glue in place. His limbs suddenly heavy with exhaustion.
She leaned in, tracing his jawline with her finger, "Aren't you just the prettiest little thing? I knew I wanted a taste of you when you first pulled in at that cabin," she licked her bottom lip hungrily, "I didn't think anybody lived in that dilapidated thing no more."
Cigarette smoke and mint invaded his nose when she shoved her body against his, his hand instinctively planting on her nude hips. His eyes were glassy as he gaped at her with surprise. He figured it out.
"You're the librarian." He whispered breathlessly.
Her eyebrow perked, "Smart too? Oh, what a catch."
She smiled amicably, her white hair flowing in waves down her back. Bucky gulped. A cold, instinctual fear wrapped around his lung, and his stomach twisted. He pursed his lips together and averted his gaze down, breaking from the fascinating darkness. He couldn't figure out why she did it. Why tell the whole town? Why stick your neck out like that? What was there to gain?
He didn't understand.
"Why?" He found himself asking.
She fixed the collar of his leather jacket, teasing the edges, "Thought you'd asked that sweetheart," She said casually as if she was waiting for him to make the connection. She lifted his chin to make him look at her. A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she slowly leaned in. He gulped, his shoulders rigid. Her cool breath ghosted his ear, "Nobody believes in crazy, sweetheart."
Her eyes seemed to darkened when he looked at them again, something sinister yet disarming hiding behind the chasm. He felt lightheaded, and he tried to control his quickened breaths when she snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him in. No coherent thought passed through his mind. Just the burning humiliation that heated his cheeks when she closed the gap between them.
Her lips were warm and soft, and he couldn't suppress the moan that escaped his lips. She giggled, the mint from her tongue intoxicating him further. Bucky felt like he was on cloud nine when he pulled away panting, not realizing her kiss had reduced him to his knees.
Immediately, his eyes began to feel heavy, and she kneeled in front of him, raking her hands through his greasy hair with care. Bucky felt weak, unexpectedly, like his body was slowly losing control and giving out. His mouth was dry, and he faintly heard himself gibbering, gripping her hips like a vice to try and raise himself. Ghostly pale hands removed his grasp, his entire body falling until he was met with the cold ground. Gravel dug into his legs, pebbles driving into his open palm, and his head grew heavy on his shoulders, dropping between them like a weight as he hopelessly clutched at the cusps of consciousness.
He thought about Steve as he attempted to hold his chest up, his elbows involuntarily buckling as he strained to stay awake. Bucky saw Steve's face as he shut his eyes. His face was broken and battered but still held that steady, shy smile when he always saw Bucky, whether it be from saving him from an alley fight or showing up at his house to take him to a dance. That skinny kid from Brooklyn that no one ever thought to take a second glimpse at, holding out his hand in the battlefield to lift Bucky up.
He saw Nat's pointed glare when he had one too many beers. Felt her sturdy hands as she guided his drunken ass back to bed. How she only sent him a knowing glance in the morning, setting down a glass of water and ibuprofen on his nightstand when he fluttered awake.
He saw Sam's gapped tooth smile and heard his contagious laugh. Felt his arm slung over Bucky's shoulder as they walked on the sidewalk toward the auto shop. It all seemed real, and Bucky's throat tightened at the thought of him never seeing them again. A choked sob raked through his body, and he glanced up at the librarian. She easily lifted his heavy shoulders, his arms going limp, his knuckles grazing his thighs. She was dragging him toward the water. Her once soft smile now morphed into a wicked grin.
Bucky wanted to scream and cry, but he was too weak to even produce a small whimper. All that guilt settled in his stomach, and he desperately ached to apologize. They were right. God, he pleadingly thought, if you let me live, I'll let Steve tell me 'I told you so' as many times he wants.
He let out an uneven breath and looked at the stars and the moon one last time. He always wondered what it'd be like to go up into space. To feel the earth's gravity untethered from his chest, freely allowed to drift away.
The cold water sent a gentle shock up his spine, and he barely recognized how numb his body really was, only feeling the cool sensation of the water rise toward his face. Suddenly he felt immense pressure in his ears, and Bucky didn't realize he had forgotten to breathe; all he was concentrating on was his slowing heartbeats. They were soothing, and the soft cool currents hitting his cheeks in soothing motion caused his body to give in. He felt all the weight pressed on his chest let go. All pressure on his temples was gone, and he gasped.
He was floating.
Hope you enjoyed! If you want to listen to the song My Jolly Sailor Bold the link is here
Also requests are open :D
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Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 25
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Tomorrow was Bucky's birthday and you still haven't heard anything from him.
Bucky's absence brought gloomy clouds looming over your head everywhere you went. You brought them at work, on the streets, and in the bar. You were used to being with Bucky every day that now kind of seemed mundane.
The night after the big revelation, you snuck out of the apartment and went to the penthouse where you found Sam, still in the same clothes, roaming around the kitchen. The penthouse was submerged in silence; like there were no trails of laughter, moaning, and screaming. It irked you. You longed for the noise you had with Bucky, and at the same time, you longed for our comfortable silence.
And it had just been a few hours.
Imagine what I'd feel if it were days, or even months.
Sam carried himself towards you so fast, it looked like he was about to run towards you. You told him you needed to see Bucky. You needed to be there for him but he contradicted you in so many ways possible, telling me what Bucky needed right now was time and space. You wanted to ask him why he was here then? But the answer was right in front of you. Sam was his best friend, his brother. You knew Bucky might need you but given the circumstances, you also knew he needed Sam most.
Before you left that night, you looked back and stared at Bucky's master bedroom on the second floor. Even behind closed doors, you could feel him in your skin, but just shy of him.
So close but so far away.
You averted your gaze from the door to Sam. "Tell him I'm here for him. I'm always here for him. And please — please call me when something else happens."
You took his nod as a positive response and walked back to the apartment, sulking in the streets of Manhattan. The same streets where Peter asked you to be his date on Bucky's birthday party.
Cornered, you told him yes, you'd be his date.
You were already going, anyway and you couldn't think of one reason why you should say no.
Of course there is a reason but it wasn't a reason Peter was ready for. You didn't even know if it was a reason Peter would like.
You would be lying if you said not being able to see Bucky wasn't driving you crazy. Because it had been. You'd wake up disappointed knowing he wasn't beside you; constantly feeling around your sheets, hoping by some miracle he was hidden under there somewhere. There was no one you talked to about the tiniest of stuff. You found yourself constantly wrapping your arms around your waist, imagining he was behind you, with his chin on your shoulder, kissing your temple as he looked at the things you were doing for work.
But you'd sigh in disappointment, seeing that you were alone in the office.
All the time you were slouching yourself over missing Bucky, you distracted yourself with work. You had just finished the final meeting for the skincare brand that Sam's friend owned and you were glad that everything went smoothly. You had already agreed on a date for the production which was a day after Sam releases his new collection, and a day after you formally open the studio. You were still doing some redecorations and building yourself a darkroom for developing photos from your film camera. But before the production even starts, you had to hire an assistant before the production would start because there was no way you could do the shoots without a bit of assistance.
When Nat heard about your hiring for an assistant, her head immediately shot up while handing drinks at a booth and pointed at herself.
"Pick me." She whispered, hugging the tray close to her chest. Her eyes were wide like a goldfish. "Hire me."
"Nat, I don't know if you already know this but you have a job." You rolled your eyes, laying your hands flat on the bar counter. "Plus, I can't have a friend work for me."
"Come on, I hate waitressing." She hissed, sitting beside you and ignoring a customer's call. "I only tolerate it because of Steve but as of now, that's obviously not happening. I don't think I can even look him straight in the eye after what we found out that day."
Steve hadn't been to the bar since that day. His figure retreating to his home — wherever that is — was the last that you saw of him, that you guys saw of him. He wasn't even returning your phone calls. Everything went straight to voicemail. "It's Steve. You know what to do." You knew what you needed to do. Track him down wherever the hell he lived and talk to him about Bucky.
Something still wasn't sitting right with you since you found out about it. But more on that later.
"You've seen where I live, right? This could be an upgrade from this shitty life!" Nat continued, grabbing your hands this time. She had a point. If you didn't have Peter help you in the first place, you would be living like Nat right now. "Think about it. You already know me, so no need for background checks. I know we're already friends but I can be professional in the workplace if I have to."
You arched an eyebrow. "Really? Aren't you sleeping with your boss?"
"Psh, that's in the past now. Plus, I wouldn't sleep with you."
You scoffed. "Like you could get me."
"Bucky got you." She shrugged. "How hard can it be?"
You gave her a long look, narrowing your eyes at her.
"Sorry. Come on, y/n. Pretty please?"
You shrugged. "I'll think about it."
She'd been trying to win your affection for days now, following you around when she didn't have her shift in the bar. It was annoying but it was nice having someone around. It helped you ease your mind off Bucky.
At times, you kept checking on Sam to see how Bucky was doing but all he could give you was: "You have to give him more time, y/n" when all you wanted to hear was this: "He needs you."
Old you would've never wanted to hear those words. You didn't need people and people didn't need you — unless you were desperate, like the time you moved out of your house in New Jersey — because at the end of the day, all you have is yourself.
But now, your body was already itching to be near Bucky. It wasn't a sexual itch. No. It wasn't a good time for that. It was the intimacy. It was the late-night ponderings, the single minute you'd stare at each other, the millisecond your fingers would brush against each other, the invisible gap between your thighs when you sit, the white clouds of thoughts lingering above, the coffee spills, the opened books, the noisy television.
With Bucky, everyday felt like the first day of spring.
It took everything in you not to run to his penthouse, knock down his door and hold him in your arms. For all the times you've thought of doing that, and for all the times you've missed him, you wondered what he was doing, what he was thinking of. If only there was a way for you to be able to connect to his mind, you would've already done it.
But this was the real world and patience was all you had.
Who knew you could miss someone this much?
Peter was as worried as you were. He had less patience than you did. Every night, he'd try to ring Bucky but it always led to voicemail. You think he'd already left forty voicemails... and counting.
Clearly, what happened between Bucky and Steve bothered him. He only got it into his head the day after. It was all he talked about when you were having coffee, and again at the bar, and again when you arrived in the apartment. It made the whole avoiding-of-thinking-of-Bucky thing much harder but you were kind of glad he wasn't bringing up that you were his date for his birthday party. You were already weirded out but you also didn't want to fixate on that.
In your head, you were only going as friends.
God, you didn't know what else to talk about to Peter these days.
With Peter constantly talking about it in the apartment, it started bothering you too. Not in a bad way, but also not in a good way.
Something wasn't sitting right so you spent some nights researching Steve's articles online but to no avail, you couldn't find one. It was like he was completely erased.
You didn't know how the media or the journalism industry worked, but you were sure erasing someone's identity — completely erasing — just because of something like that was impossible. No. It had to be something bigger than that.
But what was it?
The only thing left for you to do was talk to Steve and convince him to tell you what else was going on.
"I can't believe you guys finally have a bouncer." You said to Nick, plopping down on the high stool. You looked back at the tall, big, blonde figure who entered the bar, scanning the room. He narrowed his eyes, adjusting to the lack of light inside the bar.
His name was Thor Odinsomething.
Very friendly but could carry four people at a time and throw them off the next street with his build. People were careful not to get on his bad side.
He had been working in the bar for a few days now, right after that day. When you first encountered him, you almost had a fight with him until Nick told him you were cool. You were aggravated and frustrated not being able to see Bucky. Since then, whenever he'd see you, he'd tell a small joke you couldn't quite get, then open the door for you. He was so friendly that you couldn't tell if he was flirting or just really friendly.
When his eyes landed on you, he gave you an awkward smile and a thumbs up. He closed the door and went back outside.
You frowned and looked back at Nick who busied himself making a drink. "Aren't bouncers supposed to be scary?"
Nick glanced at Thor who just opened the door for more customers, along with the little chatter from the streets. "I like him. He's quite the opposite of Steve. It's nice to have someone like that around here."
You looked at Steve's office at the mention of his name. You bit your lip. "Speaking of Steve... Is he in today? I kinda need to talk to him."
"Oh yeah, he's in."
Your ears perked up at his reply, practically jumping off the stool.
"But it's probably best not to go there." He continued. "He's in pretty bad shape."
"Hey, can I get a beer over here?" A man yelled behind me. Nick cocked his head and gave a thumbs up in the air before he filled the empty beer mug using the tap.
"Looks like he'd been beaten up."
You frowned and zipped your mouth shut about the whole Bucky and Sam incident.
"I think he got mugged in the streets or something." He added. "But who in the right mind would even want to mug Steve or beat him up? I mean, look at the guy."
You simply nodded, still staring at Steve's little office. Knowing he was in there gave you a sense of thrill. You told Nick you'd talk to him later. "I'm just gonna deal with something."
"With Steve? Right now?"
"Yep." You replied, popping the 'p' in the end. "See ya later, Nick."
Before you could even open the door, a large figure stood in your way, looking down on you. "Sorry, can't let ya in."
"Nuh-uh." He shook his head.
You scoffed, frowning at him. "You're a bouncer, not a bodyguard, okay? I told you man, I'm cool. I used to work here. Me and Steve are, like, tight." You shook your head at the words coming out of your mouth. Me and Steve are tight? Where on earth did that come from?
Oh well, it was better than: Steve's kind of like my big brother slash father.
Suddenly, the door clicked open. "She's good, Thor. Let her in."
Thor turned around, his big, defined back facing me. He went inside to talk to Steve. you tried to eavesdrop on their conversation but Steve's walls weren't really paperthin-like.
Thank God, or else you would've heard him and Nat doing it.
You shuddered at the thought.
Nat wasn't here tonight. She visited her sister in Ohio for god knows what and wouldn't be back until Saturday. If she were here, she would've been all over you — convincing you that you should give her the assistant job. At first, it sounded a bit ridiculous but the more the thought drilled into your mind, the more you believed it made sense.
It would definitely save you some time plus you be spending more time with each other.
Your thoughts dissipated once the door opened. Thor gave you a tight-lipped smile. You arched your brow at him as he slowly moved out of your way.
"See? Told you we're tight." You mumbled to Thor before going inside the office.
Your eyes scanned the room, there were more boxes and papers around but they were more organized. No more scattered papers on the floor. The inside was cleaner. Less flying dust. More lights were added. But he still wouldn't open those damn blinds.
You looked at the shelf behind his desk, stared at the exact spot where you found the picture.
It wasn't there.
You looked around once more whilst you slowly walked towards the chair across him. You wondered what those boxes contained. Old stuff from his previous life, perhaps.
But your best guess were old newspapers — newspapers which contained the articles he'd written over the years, of course. There might've been no digital footprint of Captain America but he was all over the newspapers. The ones you assumed were inside these old boxes.
You sat across Steve, and looked at his bruised face. His right eye was swollen and dark, with a hint of blue-green on the sides. The cut on his lip was still open but now dried up with blood.
Bucky punching Steve replayed in your mind.
"H-how are you?" Was all you could ask. Because what else were you supposed to say to a beaten-up man sitting helplessly in front of you?
The room was brighter than it ever was but Steve's darkness overshadowed the lights, making the atmosphere chilly and haunting. He lifted his blue eyes to meet your hazel ones. "I'm fine. I deserved this."
The same words he said after Bucky punched him. But you didn't know whether to believe Steve or not. It felt like you didn't know him anymore. But this was Steve... the man who took you under his wings and helped you become a bartender. The man who would give you a raise when your rent money wasn't enough. The man who bought all those unsold photos in your exhibit.
At least you knew that was real.
You simply bobbed your head up and down, looking like those bobbleheads you put inside your car. Pointless and irrelevant.
"I assume Bucky's not speaking with you or anyone else as of the moment." Steve sighed. "So, you come to me."
"Well, yeah but not exactly." You replied.
"I have no more to say, y/n. I have no side of the story. Bucky laid it out for everyone."
You knitted your brows together. The more he defended himself, the more he defended Bucky elicited doubt. "I don't believe you. There's something else, I can feel it. What are you not telling me?"
"I don't owe you anything." He mumbled softly.
You ignored him. "That night you threw that little party, when you kept on berating me about Bucky and I's relationship. It's just not about that, right? You weren't just looking out for me. You were looking out for him. I... I don't get it, Steve." A brief pause. "What are you not telling me?" I repeated. "What do you know that Bucky doesn't? Is this about Tony Stark? Is he after you? Is that why you hired a bouncer — "
"There's nothing to tell, y/n!" He cut you off, clearly annoyed with the amount of questions you kept throwing at him. "It is not about Bucky, or even Tony. I was looking out for you. I was with Bucky for almost two years — I've seen how he is. He's a goddamn child that can't look out for himself."
You scoffed. "Really? After all the shit he'd been through, that's what you make of him?"
"Tell me that wasn't what you saw in him when you first met him."
You kept your mouth shut, guilty of what he said.
Of course, it was. But now you knew that wasn't who he was.
"But you and him..." He added. "You guys are more alike than you think." He chuckled bitterly. A side of Steve you had never seen. "Oblivious, always refusing help, afraid of commitment. You two hit the trifecta. And one way or another, whatever is going on between you... it's not going to end up good."
You shook your head, taken back by his words. Clearly, he was changing the topic. "Don't make this about me. It's about Bucky."
"Why do you care so much about this? It's over. What's done is done. You heard him that day, y/n. Nothing will ever fix this. Not him, not me, and definitely not you."
"Because I love him, Steve."
"You were wrong when you said I was afraid of commitment. I'm not anymore. And yes, it isn't my business but Bucky is and if you did care for him like you told us, then you'd be able to at least tell him the whole truth — and no, don't make this about us not telling Peter because we actually plan on telling him." You glared at him. "Unlike you." You stood up knowing fully well you weren't going to get your answers.
You left his office without looking back. With your eyes closed, you breathed out. Telling someone, and not just a huge portrait, that you loved Bucky felt good. It was the best you've ever felt in days.
Before leaving the bar, Nick stopped you, handing you a huge manila envelope. "What's this?" You asked once you got ahold of them.
"It's from Steve." He replied. "He asked me to give them to you when he got here then I totally forgot about it 'til I saw it in my locker. He says it's for your new studio."
You frowned, opening the envelope. Inside were the photos you had been putting up in these dark oakwood walls. You looked around, realizing for the first time that they were gone — except the photos he bought from you. They were still beside the wall clock. Where you'd usually look when your shift's about to end.
"Tell him thanks. I really appreciate this."
"Hey, when are we allowed to see your new studio?"
You flashed him a smile, tucking the envelope under your arm. "Soon. Maybe I'll throw a little party."
"Proud of ya, y/n."
"Thanks, Nick." You replied. "Though I kinda miss working here."
He scoffed, throwing a towel over his shoulder. "Psh, trust me you're not missing out on anything. See ya around!"
"See ya, Nick."
You also said your goodbye to Thor who kept quite a long line outside the bar even though it was still bright outside. You decided to cross the street and go to Marco's you, suddenly craving for pizza.
The bell on the door rung once you entered, making Marco's head snap up. He was slouching, trying to get the crust on the brick oven. He called for his staff and told him to take care of it before walking towards you.
"Y/n!" He boomed, walking to the counter. "Been quite a while, heh? Where you been these days?"
"I've been quite busy. I have my own studio now."
"Ah, no more bartending?"
You shook your head, tapping your fingers on the counter. From where you stood, the smell of herbs and Marco's secret sauce filled your nose. A familiar smell that clung on your clothes. "I'm going full-time with photography now. I'm just hoping it all works out!"
"Good, good, that's good. Bout damn time!"
You laughed, watching him pace in his workspace.
"You gonna order your usual?" He asked.
"Yes please. With some extra sauce."
He yelled the order to some of his staff over there at the kitchen. A guy gave him a thumbs up. "Don't forget extra sauce!" Another one yelled back. The noise in the workplace didn't seem to bother the others. It was a friendly place, after all. "Oh, that hunk of yours came by earlier!"
You snapped your head to Marco. He only called one person hunk. "Bucky? Bucky was here?"
"Ya just missed him! He took his order to-go."
"Bucky was here." You mumbled under your breath, looking around. Hoping that he was still out there somewhere. But he wasn't. "Where'd he sit?"
He pointed to the table where you first ate. That day when you helped him get rid of that woman out of his apartment. That day when he helped you move the shipments in the bar. That day when he made you a drink.
"Thanks." You said, walking over to the table.
"Oh, you want your order to-go?"
You looked back and shook your head. "I think I'll have it here."
You sat down facing the window. Your heart thumped against your chest. It was so loud and strong you could feel it on your wrist. It was all you heard. It drowned out all the noises in the kitchen, and the busy streets outside. You dragged a long breath, the corner of your lips slightly turning up at the image of Bucky sitting here just a few minutes ago.
You inhaled. Instead of the smell of herbs, spices and sauce, the scent of vanilla-lavender filled your senses.
This was the closest you've been with Bucky since that day.
The streets of New York sped before you, blurring past your vision. The only clear thing right now was the sunset hues, almost passing afterglow.
Bucky Barnes sat inside his penthouse. He was alone. He sent Sam home, telling him he was going to be okay, that everything will turn out fine — because it had been for the past years Bucky wasn't with Steve. But he knew it was different this time. This time, he told off Steve. Etched on him everything he'd kept for himself the past years. Buried him alive with his words.
He felt lighter but a different weight beared on him the next.
You can never run from them. Everything had to be revealed and soon he'll reveal to y/n he knew all along that Peter was in love with her; soon he'll reveal to Peter that he's now in love with her.
He didn't know how to face that.
His eyes glossed over the huge glass walls. The box of pizza was on the coffee table. A piece of it was already devoured.
And as he looked at the sky, he watched the clouds split and vanish into thin air. Sunset was here. Soon, he saw the face of his beloved in the afterglow, clearer than it ever was before.
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Shower Me in Praise
Summary: Bucky knows what you need after a long week without him.
Pairing: Beefy Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Smut, oral fem rec, size kink, praise kink, Bucky is 6'4"
Rivulets of hot water rain down on your back, a thick mist clouding the glass surrounding the shower. This is what you needed after a busy day, the heat soothes your aching muscles. Resting your head on the cool shower wall, your arms dangle by your sides and you relax for the first time in days.
It’s been such an exhausting week and you’ve been looking forward to finally getting to spend time at home. Just you and Bucky. The couch, an old worn knitted blanket, and whatever movie is on tonight. Wine, cheap, greasy takeout, and passionate sex on the living room rug before the credits have a chance to roll across the screen. You’ve been looking forward to tonight all week.
But first, you need to let the stress of the real world fade away. You’re nearly done with your shower when you hear the soft click of the door opening.
“Hey Bunny.” Your head cants back at the sound of his raspy deep voice, your body instinctively responding to him. Glancing over your shoulder, the water pours down your face as you watch him through the foggy glass. “Missed you.” The longing in his tone makes your chest tighten. You’ve missed him too, more than words can express.
“I’m glad you’re home,” you respond with a smile, turning around to get a better look at him. He's handsome, a shadow of a beard forming on his sharp jaw, his pink bottom lip caught between his teeth as he eyes you through the glass. Bucky leans against the sink, tapping his fingers on the surface.
His eyes peirce your eyes through the mist and when he rolls his bottom lip between his pearly white teeth, you shiver. Your body's calling him like a siren and he can never resist you.
Bucky removes his red henley, real slow making sure you see his muscular abs and pecs ripple as he stretches his arms above his head. You can’t look away, the sight of him peeling layer after layer off of his massive body is mesmerizing. Soon all he has left on are a pair of tight auburn boxers, you can see the outline of his erection and your thighs clench together in a desperate bid to quell the growing ache between them.
He slides them down his muscular legs, your eyes following his movements until they pool around his feet, his cock springs free, smacking him on the stomach. Your mouth goes dry as you gaze at his pretty cock. There’s no way you can hold back the growing throb in your pussy now that the only thing separating you from all of him is a thin sheet of glass. You bite your lip, wiping the condensation to get a better look at your man.
Bucky notices your eyes drifting down to his stiffening cock, a smirk curling the ends of his pink lips up. He’s missed you Bunny. He can’t wait to show you how-actually hold on. He reaches inside and adjusts the knobs. His fingers gingerly test the water as he glares at you.
“Bucky,” you laugh, tossing your washcloth at his head. “It wasn’t that hot.”
He scoffs before turning the knob a little more. “Not that hot Bucky,” he says mocking your tone. You laugh even harder, remembering the first time he jumped in the shower with you
The blast of fiery molten liquid startled him, his feet slipping across the porcelain surface. “What the fuck?” His eyes had widened so quickly you thought they were going to pop out of his head, his brows almost touching his hairline as he screeched. “Why is it so fucking hot bunny? What the fuck!”
You burst into hysterical laughter, nearly wheezing, tears streaming down your face while you slide down the shower wall. He flailed around you trying to dodge the water before landing ass first on the cool tile floor.
Of course, Bucky claims that he never screamed, he yelped. And he didn’t fall, he slipped. You have no idea what the difference is but he insists that the latter is more manly. “You know I nearly died that day. Boiled alive in my own home while my girl laughed at me.”
“Aw poor Bucky,” you coo, scrunching your nose at him. “I still don’t know how you thought you were going to fit in there with me.”
Finally deeming the water tolerable, he steps inside the shower. Instantly his large body takes up most of the space, without even meaning to he crowds you. “There are a few places you didn’t think I was going to fit Bunny,” he hums, his tongue moving across his bottom lip. “What did you say? Something about me being too big?”
Those words squeaked out the first time you saw him naked, his large cock hanging between his legs. He was soft but you couldn’t believe that he could get any bigger.
Then he got hard and you realized how wrong you were. That’s not going to fit Bucky. You were so sure that he was never going to get all of that inside you.
“Remember what I said Bunny?”
Oh, you do.
“You and your pretty pussy are prefect, like you were made for me.”
The way he says that made you preen, you’ve never felt more loved or cherished.
In one swift motion, he corners you, his large palm splayed across your belly, taking your wrists in his metal hand he pins them above your head. He always makes you feel so small. Your nipples brush over his warm chest with every shaky breath you take in.
He steps even closer until his body is pressing into yours. His head dips down slowly, his large palm glides up your wet skin, his fingertips tease your pebbled nipples sending sparks straight to your clit. You start to squeeze your thighs together but he nudges them apart, his thick hair-covered thigh grazing over your clit so lightly it makes you shiver.
“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, his lips sweeping over yours, teasing you with a chaste kiss. “But I knew I was going to fit.”
Bucky spread your legs apart, resting his head between your thighs, eating you like he was starving, making you cum over and over on his tongue and fingers. He was methodical, learning his way around your body, studying your face whenever he tried something new, ticking away every single thing that made you gasp, sigh and moan his name.
You were still crying out from the last orgasm he pulled from your trembling body when he thrust inside you. "Told ya I'd make it fit, look how pretty you are stretched around me." And you made a sound you never heard before. You had never felt so full in your life, your tender walls stretched over him, a delicious burn coursing through you.
Before he even moved, you knew that you were ruined for other men.
Bucky sees the way your eyes darken, your breath hitching in your chest. He was going to draw this out, tease you until you were begging for him but he can’t. Not with you looking up at him so sweetly, he can’t deny his pretty girl anything.
He reaches down and lifts you up with one hand, your back slides up the wall until you’re looking at his face. His deep blue eyes capture yours and he’s gazing at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says quietly and reverently, almost unaware that he’s speaking. “I dream about the way your face looks when you cum for me. You don’t even know how perfect you are but I’m going to show you until you believe me.”
Bucky keeps your wrists above your head, reminding you of his incredible strength, the way he can easily manhandle you makes you even wetter. Your legs lock around his waist and you look down to see him gliding his thick swollen head through your folds.
“Eyes on me Bunny,” He demands, his tone soft, almost pleading. Your eyes snap up to his, only a thin rim of blue surrounds his lust-filled pupils. A quick shift of his hips and he’s inside you. Buckys eyes flutter shut, he lives for that first thrust, the way your warm tight walls enveloping him is indescribable.
You both gasp but his is more guttural and drawn out, your pride blooming knowing that he sounds wrecked and desperate because of you. He buries himself in your aching pussy, inch by inch, soon he’s so deep you feel him in your chest. “Bucky,” you moan, your heels dig into the small of his back.
“That's it, that its,“ he whispers resting his head on your forehead, watching your cunt swallow his cock, “you can take it, just a little more Bunny.”
More? You look down and whimper. Oh fuck, you swear he’s even bigger. One more shallow thrust and he’s bottomed out and you're so full. “See,” he chuckles, “your pussy can handle every fucking inch I give her.”
The corner of his lip lifts in a satisfied smirk. And that's your only warning before he’s pulling out of your tight heat before you can begin to feel empty, he’s slamming back inside you. Your head lolls back from the force, jaw going slack as a wave of sensations surges up.
Bucky drops his head down, his lips finding yours and his tongue delves into your mouth. His kiss is sloppy and passionate, he greedily inhales your frantic moans as his hips drive his cock deeper and deeper, faster and faster inside you. The coil in your belly winds tighter until you feel like you’re going to explode.
Bucky knows you’re close, he knows you need to cum, your wordless cries in his mouth begging him for more, your walls clinging to him trying to keep in. You have no idea how much he wants to stay inside your sweet little cunt but he’s going to take care of you first.
His fingers strum your clit the way he knows you like. You feel everything, your clit rolling between his rough, calloused fingers, his warm skin pressing into yours, the filthy grind of his hips, the water dripping off his head onto your chest. “I know, I know bunny,” He mutters, his lips moving to your ear, “I got you, go on and cum for me pretty girl.”
You feel all of it.
And then he angles his hips, his cock hitting something inside you and then all you feel is ecstasy, pure pleasure, as the coil bursts inside you, leaving trails of sultry white heat in its wake. “Fuck Bucky, oh god yes,” you gasp, raking your nails across his broad back.
Bucky groans, scraping his teeth across your throat before sucking a bruise on your skin. You’re gripping him so tightly he struggles to pull out, once he does, you immediately drag him back in and he loses it. His smooth fast pace becomes erratic, his soft grunts of your name echo across the bathroom as he chases his release. “One more bunny, one more,” he pleads. “Be a good girl and give it to me.”
Bucky lets your wrist go, his hands curving around your waist to bring you down on his cock, you can only hold on to his large slippery shoulders, taking his wild strokes. “You feel so good, let me feel you cum again,” he says, his mouth sweeping over your jaw, reclaiming your lips.
You’re already so wound up from your first orgasm that it only takes one more roll of his hips before you’re coming undone, a thin high wail leaving your lips as another searing orgasm pulses through you.
As soon as your walls flutter around him, you grab his throat and clench down around his pistoning length. "Fill me up,Bucky, make me yours, please," you moan. His feral blue eyes widen as you squeeze tighter
You always know how to push him over the edge, Bucky lets go with a guttural grunt, spilling into your tight, warm heat, folding himself around your body, his arms wrapping around you, keeping you pressed into his chest.
Bucky laughs breathlessly, tilting your head back to kiss your forehead. “Fuck you’re good, Jesus I can’t- god damn,” he rambles, slipping out of you, murmuring softly when you wince. Gently setting you back on your feet, he places his hands on your waist, keeping you upright. Your legs tremble uncontrollably, and you know if he doesn’t hold you, you’ll collapse to the floor.
Bucky grins, taking in your sated and wrecked appearance with pride. “Bunny,” he says, “told you, this is all mine and I always take good care of her” he cups your mound, pushing you back into the corner.
“But I made a mess, look at what I did to my pretty girl.” Your eyes warily move up his flushed chest to his face, not trusting his soft tone, when he starts talking directly to your pussy you know he’s not done with her.
And damn her, she starts aching for him again. He lowers himself, his hands moving down your sides, trailing kisses on your skin until he’s kneeling at your feet, his long hair plastered to his forehead, he winks before focusing on your pussy.
"Now tell me about your day," he says placing your leg over his shoulder. “While I’m cleaning her up,”
A few hours later, you're propped on the couch, his head on your belly, the faint sounds of the movie playing in the background.
Bucky gazes up at you, his bearded chin grazing your skin. "Ya know," he starts, his brows raising, your own furrowing in response. "I think I missed a spot."
"You know damn well you didnt-" you screech, breaking into laughter as he sits up and yanks your panties down.
Bucky swipes a thick finger through your folds, holding the glistening digit in front of your face. "Look at that, still messy," he hums, popping his finger in his mouth with a sinful moan.
"What would I do without you?"
Bucky pauses, his head lifting slightly. "Dont worry, you'll never have to find out. I'm always going to take care of you and her."
Before you can melt at his sweet words, his lips surround your clit and all thoughts leave your head. Bucky listens to your pretty sounds, he decides he's going to spend the rest of the night making you sing for him.
Comments and reblogs are appreciated 😍
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abstract ; baby making sex with your husband.
pairing ; tfatws!bucky x f!reader
word count ; 2,521 words
content warnings ; talk of having kids, baby making sex [unprotected], intrusive thoughts [for bucky], pet-name [petal], baby-making sex positions, squirting, blowjob, oral, cum-play, praise kink, mocking & degradation [name called - slut], dumbification, alludes to public sex, soft and sweet moments — 18+ ONLY • MINORS DNI
notes ; starting the dilf!bucky protection squad because he deserves the world <3
Bucky Barnes wanted a baby. He wanted a family, a family that was his. A family with you. It was apparent that he’d been longing for it for as long as you could remember.
For a super-soldier ex Russian spy, he wasn’t that sneaky.
A list of baby names scribbled onto a piece of paper, tucked away in the pages of his favourite book.
The computer search history asking questions of how long does it take to get pregnant? A tab holding the question of best positions to make a baby? And, your favourite one yet, is 106 too old to be a dad?
Bucky had caught the baby fever.
You think it was because Sam had become a new dad and Bucky jumped at the opportunity of babysitting whenever you guys could, offering his help whenever, and even asking Sam questions about fatherhood.
It was sweet, wholesome, endearing, and it made you uncontrollably horny.
Because Bucky? As a fucking DILF? Fuck, yes.
Then he finally let it slip, cuddled up in bed, a comfort movie playing on the TV, but Bucky couldn’t pay attention to anything but the thought of starting a family with you.
“I wanna have a baby,” he blurted, his heart racing as you turned to look at him all while trying to hide the smile that was threatening to break free across your face.
“I wanna make you a mom,” he added, twiddling his thumbs and you could tell you nervous he was.
You reached out for his hand, cold and sleek, as you squeezed the prosthetic.
“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that, Buck,” you whisper softly, running your finger over where Bucky had his wedding band engraved where his fourth finger meets his knuckles.
He’d worried about how he would find a ring, but he found a better, more permanent solution to that problem and it only made you fall more in love with him as he engraved your initials on his palm.
That way, he could hold you no matter where you were.
“Really?” He sounds surprised as he pulls you onto his lap. You have to giggle, because he really was oblivious for the deadliest assassin to ever step foot on American soil.
“I wanna have your baby, Bucky. I wanna have as many babies as we want.” His eyes gloss over because truthfully, who would want to have a family with a monster like Bucky?
It took years of therapy, and Bucky was doing much better, but that’s the thing about intrusive thoughts; they never leave you alone.
So when Bucky got down on one knee, shaky hands holding the velvet box, he was sure that you would say no to his proposal.
But he had to admit, hearing you say that you want to carry his baby...his dick twitched at the thought.
And you noticed, because you smirked, raising an eyebrow, “should we get started tonight?”
That’s all it took for Bucky to flip you over, have you writhing under him as he whispered about how full he was going to have you. That you would be leaking by the time he was done with you.
Sex with Bucky was always mind-fucking-blowing.
But baby-making sex with Bucky?
Well it made you almost fucking astral project as he stepped up his already perfect game in the hopes of filling you with enough of his seed to make you nice and round.
And so, when you got your period the next month, you had to remind Bucky that it was going to take a little time. Even with his super-sperm, you were still human at the end of the day.
But Bucky just quirked an eyebrow, stepped closer to you and trapping you against the counter as he whispered, “guess that means I’ll be findin’ every and any excuse to pump you full of cum, isn’t that right, Plum?”
Leave it to Bucky to have you squirming at 10:32 AM on a Thursday morning.
It didn’t stop there, no, not when you were wearing Bucky’s favourite sundress to the park.
“You really expect me not to take you when you wear this?” He groans as his already wandering hands are grabbing and squeezing at your ass as you let out a soft giggle.
Okay, yeah. So maybe this was part of your plan.
“Baby my dick is so hard, I can’t go back there,” he whisper-yells pitifully as you’re hiding in the small wooded area.
The fallen tree branches crunch underneath both of your feet as he has you pressed up against a thick wooden tree. It scratches at your exposed skin, but you don’t care now that Bucky’s hiking your dress up and...
“Oh you little,” he can’t even finish his sentence as he meets your bare pussy.
He meets your eyes, they’re hungry as he licks his lips, “my little slut wanted to get fucked in the middle of the fuckin’ woods, huh?”
God, if this is how you and Bucky get pregnant, it would be one hell of a story.
See that’s the thing about Bucky; if he wants it, he’s making damn well sure that he’s getting it.
It had been a few months of trying to get pregnant, being given the all clear by the doctors, so really all you had to do was have stupid amounts of sex.
Bucky fist-bumped the doctor, he cheered and joked that the doctor had literally prescribed you guys sex.
He was just an overgrown fratboy with the skillset of someone who the KGB used to be afraid of.
But truthfully, that’s exactly what you had left to do. And Bucky was very proud of his craft which meant he always left you shaking at the end of the night, kissing you and telling you how proud of you he was.
Tonight was no different.
Dinner had been left on the table, cold and uneaten as Bucky pressed you against the wall and wedged his thigh between your legs only to pull back to gauge you reaction to the words that would come from his mouth next.
“’M hungry for somethin’ a little sweeter tonight, Plum. And ‘m feelin’ greedy.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, gasping softly when he dug his thick, cool digits into the flesh of your cheeks effectively holding your face in whatever position he chose.
“Tonight,” he smirked. “I wanna watch you squirm, beggin’ for my cock, beggin’ me to fill you up ‘til you can’t take anymore.”
You sucked in a harsh breath, “because I’ll take care of you,” there was a sinister look in his eyes.
“But only if you behave.”
You whimpered, audibly, as your knees buckled slightly and then his lips were on yours in a greedy and needy kiss. There was nothing more you wanted than to feel his tongue against yours, but even that he wouldn’t give you so easily.
“Aww you poor little thing,” he cooes mockingly, “you gotta learn how to control yourself.”
As if his words would make you feel better. They only accelerated your heartbeat and the unevenness of your breathing.
“But Bucky,” you whined, not being able to get a single other word out as he shut you up by tightening his grip on your face.
“Shut up.” He growled, surprising you as your breathing stuttered in your chest, “get on your knees.”
You looked at him, dumbfounded, as if you didn’t speak English and he snapped his fingers in front of your eyes.
“Well? Did your dumb baby brain shut off? Do I have to dumb it down even further for you?” He continued to taunt you, “get on those knees and open your pretty little mouth for me.”
You’re being pushed down, strong hands on your shoulders before you’re met with his impressive bulge.
He’s teasing you, slowly undoing his belt and pulling his zipper down as you unconsciously lip your bottom lip in anticipation.
But Bucky catches it. “Desperate little thing, aren’t ya?”
Baby making sex with Bucky was never just about the sex. He always shifted his focus on you, knowing you better than you knew yourself, and making sure you were having a good time.
Which you really fucking were because your panties were fucking soaked. Drenched. Gone.
A shudder rolls over your body when he finally pulls himself free, giving himself a few strokes before you’re gently being slapped by it.
“Eyes on me, yeah? Focus, you pretty little thing.” He purrs with a wicked smirk, mischief in his eyes.
You feel the weight of his head against your lips, prompting you to open your mouth and slowly wrap your lips around him.
The hiss that leaves Bucky sounds like this is what he’s been needing — craving, even.
“Oh yeah, that’s it baby. Love your mouth so fuckin’ much,” he groans, eyes fluttering closed as you take him further.
You’ve memorized the spots on him that make him whimper and moan, hitting them with your tongue as his dick twitches in your mouth.
“Look’atcha,” he smirks, “mouth full of my cock and you’re squirmin’, huh?”
Shit. You were hoping he wouldn’t notice how unbelievably turned on you were — oh, who were you kidding?
Of course you wanted him to see how fucking wet you are.
Your brain was nothing but mush at this point, the only thoughts being anything and everything revolving around Bucky.
“Up,” Bucky said. “Stand.” His tone was much more demanding the second time around as you stood on shaky, wobbly legs.
Panties soaked, your core absolutely aching, and your makeup a mess as Bucky runs his thumb under your eyes and smirks.
“You look so pretty like this, Petal.” His voice is soft, but he’s going to think about this moment the next time you cry.
He loves it. He loves it when you cry because he gets to tell you how pretty you look — it’s fucked up, messed beyond belief, but you like it.
You enjoy being Bucky’s ruined little mess.
The moment doesn’t last and you don’t get to relish in it before your clothes are literally ripped off, leaving you with hard nipples at the sudden cool air surrounding you.
Then he pushes you against the even colder wall, chest against yours, “now I think it’s only fair we get you nice and ready.”
Bucky sinks to his knees, lips trailing down your body and he doesn’t break eye contact before he nuzzles his face between your thighs and his scruff sends a chill down your spine.
“Such a pretty cunt, God, I love this pretty little pussy,” he groans, placing your legs over his shoulders and he’s eating you out.
Eating you out against the wall, holding you up entirely as he digs his fingers into your hips and ass.
You think you’ll suffocate him with your thighs.
Bucky wants exactly that.
He’s lapping at you, licking, sucking, and drawing tight figure eights in your clit as you soak him with your slick.
When he lets out a moan against your pussy, you gasp as your walls flutter because of how goddamn close you are.
“Oh,” a whine cuts you off. “Oh Buck, so close.”
He already knows. He doesn’t need you to tell him that you’re about to cover him, drench him, he’s been craving it the entire day.
It’s so fucking hot he has to wrap a hand around his dick, slowly stroking himself because he’s painfully hard now — but he refuses to let himself cum until he’s buried deep in you.
Your orgasm rocks you, earthquake to your bones as you grip and tug at his hair before he’s coming up for air.
A cocky smirk and glistening lips, “could have you squirt over me every fuckin’ day.”
“But as much as I’d like to keep devourin’ you,” he’s standing up now, your legs wrapped around his torso as he’s making his way to the bedroom.
“I want to stuff you full even more.”
You’re thrown on the bed, relatively gently before Bucky is hovering over you with his dog tags swinging gently against your chest.
This is the moment you’ve been waiting for, but it doesn’t happen immediately. Instead, Bucky groans as he furrows his eyebrows.
“I read,” he mumbles to himself, grabbing a pillow from beside you, “that this could help.”
He’s patting your bum, “lift your hips up for me, Petal.”
You do as you’re told, intrigued and hey, if it’ll help, you’re willing to try anything.
He places the pillow beneath your hips so they’re lifted — raised up — but comfortably so and you’re just anticipating how deep he’ll be able to get with this angle.
“C’mon, Bucky,” you whine, grabbing for him. “Fuck a baby into me already.”
You swear he growls, pinning your wrists against the mattress as his nose bumps you and smirks, “oh, I’ll be sure to fuck you so full tonight, Petal.”
He lines himself up, sending a wink your way, “don’t you worry.” He says before he pushes in and groans so lowly that you can feel the vibrations running through his chest.
“Baby,” he whines, “baby oh you feel s’good.”
His thrusts are slow, but deep, making sure to relish the way your warm walls grip him as the bed creaks and shakes under the both of you. And thank God for Bucky’s internet search history.
Because this new position is not only comfortable, but Bucky is deeper than ever before.
“Want you to feel how deep I am,” he grunts, grabbing your one hand and placing it over your lower tummy and applying pressure over your hand as you whine.
“Yeah, you feel that?” He smirks, “God, you take me so fuckin’ well.”
The soft praises leave you reeling, clawing into his flesh trying to bring him closer but Bucky is set on watching his cum leak out of you so he can push it back in you.
His thrusts grow sloppier, brow creasing as he nuzzles his head in into your shoulder as you milk him with your own orgasm before he can no longer hold himself back.
“Fuck,” he’s panting. “’M cummin’, Petal.”
It leaves you shuddering, pulling him close as he sinks his teeth into you shoulder before kissing the indents of his teeth softly.
He’s still inside of you, sitting back on his heels as he’s massaging your hips, “not wastin’ a single drop tonight.” He proudly grins as you give him a tired and soft smile.
“Jus’ relax, baby,” he purrs, slowly pulling out of you after some time has passed.
Bucky sucks in a harsh breath at the sight of his cum leaking out of you, fingers collecting it and carefully spreading it over you, “’m gonna be takin’ care of you all night long.”
What you didn’t realize is that tonight was going to be the night.
A few weeks later, a positive pregnancy test, a teary eyed Bucky, and lots of kisses to your tummy as he whispers how much he loves the little Bean growing inside of you.
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For the Love of the Game - Masterlist
Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drinking, Mild language, Angst, Minor injury, Smut (Minors dni, marked with **), Enemies to lovers trope!
a/n: Hi!! The main series is now complete! I’ll be posting drabbles/one-shots based on requests! :)
✶ Part One ✶
✶ Part Two ✶
✶ Part Three ✶
✶ Part Four ✶
✶ Part Five ✶
✶ Part Six ✶
✶ Part Seven ✶
Bucky realizing he’s falling in love. Prequel one-shot.
Meet the parents
Bucky gets injured during a game
In seven years
💙⚾️Playlist by @buckystarlight
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A Taste for Older Men
summary: y/n is moving back in with her parents after breaking up with her college boyfriend. due to an emergency at work, y/n's dad is unable to pick her up and sends his friend bucky in his stead. to bucky’s surprise, y/n is no longer the innocent girl he remembers from years back.
pairing: dbf!bucky x reader
word count: 1.9k
warnings: age gap [reader is around 22 & bucky is 39], revelations of sexy thoughts; heaps of sexual tension; mentions of teenage sexual awakening from reader’s perspective [nothing creepy just real ass self discovery shit]; cursing
a/n: dbf bucky is my religion. let me know if you want a part two x
READ PART II HERE
It was a warm September evening, just past 5pm and Y/N was standing outside her old apartment building surrounded by boxes and bags. The sun was setting, a beautiful orange glow illuminating the cars parked on the street, a cool breeze tugging at her little summer dress as she waited to be picked up.
She had talked to her dad earlier in the day, crying on the line as she desperately packed all of her belongings as fast as was humanly possible. She could not stand to spend another day with that asshole and wanted to be out of the apartment before he returned home later in the evening.
She texted her dad, and it wasn’t long before he was calling her, concerned for her wellbeing but apologetic for not being able to make it.
“I can’t just get out of work so suddenly, Y/N,” her dad had told her, not at all surprised that she had finally broken up with the asshat. “I’ve given one of my friends a call and he agreed to come get you in my stead. Do you remember Bucky?”
How could she not remember Bucky? The guy had been in her family’s life for what... eight, nine years? Ever since her dad had hired him for a brief summer in his company. He left soon after but their friendship remained; he’d come over for Sunday dinners, help out with gardening, and take her dad out for drinks at least once a month.
They were fucking besties and when Y/N still lived at home, Bucky was also a constant presence in her thoughts, a sexual awakening of sorts which led to many sleepless nights, pondering over what it would be like to just... do things with him. Of course, nothing happened. She was just a teenage girl with a vivid imagination and Bucky was a grown man.
When she turned eighteen she packed up her things - including the thoughts she had about the guy - and moved away for college. It had been almost five years since she had last seen him and she wondered how he was.
So, when his black Jeep pulled up in front of her apartment building and Bucky stepped out in all his glory, Y/N felt that familiar tingle of nervousness. He shut the driver’s door behind him and stepped around the front, enveloping her in a warm and friendly hug that she honestly didn’t expect.
“Your dad told me what happened. How are you doing?” His tone was kind, empathetic, and the way his flannel shirt hugged his shoulders made all thoughts of her now ex-boyfriend evaporate from her head. Old feelings and sensations began to stir; the smell of his cologne, the rough stubble across his face, the kind eyes and million dollar smile. It was like he was plucked right out of her teenage fantasies and placed before her five long years later.
“Relieved, if I’m being honest. Thanks for coming to pick me up on such short notice.” Her cheeks were reddened from the unexpected hug and Bucky smiled at her again, all sympathy and sweetness. Just the type of guy he was.
“It’s no trouble at all. Glad I could help.” He took a few steps back and opened the trunk of his car. “Let’s get you packed up.”
The bags and boxes were slowly stacked up in his car, overflowing from the trunk onto the back seat. When they were finished, he opened the door on the passenger’s side and held her hand as she climbed in. His politeness and charm had always been a spot of weakness for Y/N.
“Thanks again, Bucky. I really do appreciate this.”
“Stop thanking me... There’s some snacks in the glove compartment if you’re hungry. We can also stop somewhere for food or coffee if you want.”
She couldn’t help but smile, thanking him again for his kindness before he finally shut the door and walked around the front of the vehicle to the driver’s side. It wasn’t long before the car was roaring to life and he was pulling out of her street, leaving memories of her boyfriend behind along with any yearnings she had for a long term relationship. She was done.
They stayed in silence for as long as it took them to get onto the highway, the radio playing quietly in the background with neither of them really paying it much mind. The sun was still setting, the sky all orange and purple now, the sleeves of Bucky’s flannel shirt rolled up to just below his elbows in response to the late September heat.
“So,” he finally began, when they were whizzing down the highway. He reached out and switched off the mindless voices on the radio. “What happened exactly? I know your dad wasn’t fond of... whatever his name was.”
Y/N smiled, wishing she had listened to her dad sooner; everything he predicted about him came out to be true.
“Couldn’t keep his dick in his pants,” Y/N admitted with a sigh, staring out the window to her side. “I suggested an open relationship months ago. He said no and that he couldn’t stand the thought of me with someone else, but he was more than okay sleeping with other girls. I’m glad I got out of it, honestly.”
Bucky glanced at her briefly, then turned back towards the road. There was sympathy and amusement in his eyes. “An open relationship, you say?”
Y/N shrugged. “I felt like it was all moving too fast. I wanted to still have fun with other people.”
A moment passed and Y/N looked to Bucky expectantly when she noticed him shaking his head. There was a smile across his face and a chuckle sounded from between his lips when she asked him what he was thinking.
“Nothing, it’s just... Last time I saw you, you were such a bratty and immature little kid. Now look at you.”
She shrugged again. “It’s been five years, Bucky. I’m not exactly in high school anymore. I-”
She inhaled sharply, weighing her next words. Bucky made her comfortable; he made her feel like she could speak freely around him, but he was still her father’s best friend. There were certain boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed but with the events of the last number of days and the kindness and encouragement to spill in Bucky’s eyes, her reservations melted away.
“I don’t know... I have desires, wants, expectations. I don’t want to be wasting my time on some stupid college guy who doesn’t even know where the clit is.”
Bucky only laughed, eyes not meeting hers even for a brief moment. He was focused on the vast expanse of road ahead of them, long fingers curled around the wheel, his smile making his jaw bone more prominent. He looked fucking good.
“Was that an actual problem?”
When Y/N nodded, he shook his head in disbelief.
“That’s honestly pathetic,” he added.
“Needless to say, I’ve decided I’m over guys my own age. I don’t think I’ve ever been with a guy under thirty who could... you know, finish me off.”
Bucky turned to face her then, just for a fleeting moment. With one eyebrow raised and the corner of his mouth curled up into an amused grin, he asked, “Under thirty? That implies you’ve been with guys over thirty.” He took a short pause, surprised. “Have you?”
Y/N pursed her lips into a thin line, all hesitancy suddenly gone out the window. She wanted to bare her soul to someone, have them listen to her rambles and complaints. “I lost my virginity to a guy older than you, Bucky. The only men who have been able to get me off have been closer in age to my father than me. I guess you could say I’ve developed something of a kink.”
“A kink, huh?” Bucky chuckled again.
“A kink, a preference, whatever you want to call it. It’s always been that way.”
He cocked his head back, a little surprised.
“Always? When did this start?”
She regarded the side of his face, how fucking attractive he was, and felt incited to confess her deepest, most scandalous thoughts. He made her comfortable; there was no judgement in his tone, only curiosity, and Y/N was tired of being shy and hiding her desires.
She smiled to herself, thinking back on the memory. “I think it was when I was sixteen years old and you were bragging to my dad about some girl you had fucked over a table. You were in the kitchen and the door was open. I sat on the stairs and listened in on your conversation.”
He said nothing at her revelation, keeping his eyes on the road ahead, the silence almost encouragement for her to continue. There might have been a shift in his expression, perhaps a hint of surprise at her bold words, but Y/N paid it no mind. She was too old for beating around a bush.
“You didn’t spare any details and I stayed up all night thinking about it. At the time, I didn’t even know how to get myself off but that didn’t stop me from trying.” She released a chuckle. “I think that was the beginning.”
She sighed, acting as though her words were the most normal and casual thing in the world, her gaze turning to scan the fields on the side of the highway. It was all green, a dark forest looming a few miles off. The moon was starting to make an appearance.
On her other side, Bucky sat not knowing how to react. He kept his eyes on the road and said nothing for a long moment. Y/N could sense the unintended shift in energy within the vehicle. Her words were meant as an exasperated ramble, not as an attempt to stir feelings or open doors for more shameless conversations. However, despite her lack of intention, the words had irrevocably changed the atmosphere between them.
Something suddenly felt different.
“Sorry if I’ve crossed a line by telling you this. I’m just... rambling, I guess.”
Bucky shook his head and when he glanced in her direction, he had a smile that hid some deeper meaning behind it. Was that satisfaction? Amusement? Y/N couldn’t tell.
“No, don’t worry about it,” he assured. “I just can’t believe I caused you to develop a kink for older men without even touching you.”
He paused for a moment, then released a deep, raspy chuckle. “Imagine the things I could do if I actually fucked you.”
Y/N could only look at him with wide eyes, her lips parting at his words. He probably didn’t intend to provoke the reaction he did, but Y/N’s thighs clenched at the thoughts and images his words had placed within her head. All those fantasies she’d kept with her throughout the years made a sudden and intense return.
“Imagine,” she murmured, feeling Bucky’s eyes regard her for a brief moment.
He opened his mouth to say something, lips parted and eyes suddenly a little darker, but he was interrupted when his phone began to ring through the speakers of his car.
He said nothing, and waited a short moment before answering it with a sigh. The voice of her father filled the car, putting an end to their little indiscretion and just like that, the moment was gone.
“Hi Buck. How long till you’re here?”
Bucky’s eyes remained trained on her for a moment longer, scanning her expression and looking curious about the sudden electricity between them. He cleared his throat and licked his lips, the motion thoughtless but seductive.
“We’ll be there in just a moment.”
READ PART II HERE
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Coming in Hot
— Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
— Summary: When your best friend Sarah recommends you a mechanic of her brother’s trust, all you can think about and pray to is that he doesn’t rip you off. Your car is your prized possession and amidst all the worry and concern of your medical studies, drowning in even more debt sounds as suffocating as it would be.
Of course, you never thought of the possibility of the mechanic being the problem.
A hot, polite, gentle, and silent-type of problem.
Drowning in debt would be easier to navigate than the blue of Bucky Barnes’s eyes.
— Word count: 6.1k
— A/n: A huge thanks to Raven, my beta, for proofreading and eliminating all mistakes in this chapter. If you enjoy it, feedback is appreciated & highly encouraged and motivates me to write even more. mistakes/errors might be here, let me know if you find any.
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As proof that he once existed in more than just your memory, your dad left behind his 1967 Chevrolet Impala just for you.
It was his "I'm sorry for leaving with another woman and starting another family in a different state, but truly, I loved you, babygirl".
His words, not yours.
Well—those weren't his technical words, but it was what you heard nonetheless. You'd been old enough to not entirely resent him for it, you had seen the fights and the distance between your parents grow for a long time by then, and separation was something you had seen in the horizon and accepted long before they sat you down and confirm your suspicions.
The reason was what fucked you up. Them. The things he'd kept hidden from you and your mother.
Regardless—the car was the proof of the good old days when you were younger and your father spent hours in the garage fixing up and cleaning his cars while you talked and helped him whenever he let you.
That Impala was your baby.
Being your baby, you cared for it more than most possessions in your life—you always kept it clean, engine running with the same stuff, oil checked, water filled, tires always on point.
So when that precious, well-cared for baby starts acting up, it's like your heart is about to start acting up with it.
"You're not fucked." Sarah pulls your hoodie from the top of your head, chuckling lightly at your "dramatics", as she called it.
Blinking at the sudden light, you groan against the library table, still keeping your head between your arms.
"Didn't you say you used to take it to a mechanic? I remember you telling me about it last year—just take it there," says Sarah.
"I can't." Another sigh leaves your body. After another fight with Mr. Emmon, you had promised you'd find another mechanic—he was too close to your dad and although you liked him, it wasn't enough to handle all his 'lectures' every time you went there. "Mr. Emmon pissed me off for the last time and I told myself 'oh, it's okay Y/n, you'll find another good mechanic around this town that doesn't charge the eyes outta your face for fix-ups in an old, 1967 Impala, everything'll be okay'."
Sarah lifts one of her eyebrows at you, trying to stifle another laughter.
"And... lemme guess: you never found him?" she asks, faking seriousness.
"Stop laughing at me!" You pick up one of your pens and throw it in her direction, making her resolve fall and laughter come out of her.
A few feet away from you, Miss Penny shushes you both loudly.
Some pairs of eyes snap in your direction with a look that says yeah, shut up and both you and Sarah wince in apology towards them.
Having a meltdown in the university library is only acceptable if you do it quietly, so you sigh with your face hidden behind your hands.
"I didn't," you answer her, dropping your hands. "They're all so expensive it makes me wanna cry, S."
"Baby, I don't know what you expected." A miracle, you think. "This is New York, and we both know that what we get from our side-jobs is only enough to make it by." She shakes her head, and you nod in agreement.
Going to medical school is a dream both of you can only achieve due to the help of family members—in her case, a brother who loves her a lot and in yours, a dad with enough guilt to fill up a really big lake.
"Is there anyone you trust, at least?" She leans in closer against the table to take a good look at you, probably trying to see how much of the drama is actual worry and how much of it is you being extra. "I could help you with the bill if it's too much and you'll pay me back when you have time to do extra shots for your other job. You paid me back really soon when I lent you the money for the computer, I trust you."
That brought a fond smile to your face.
Grad school might've given you new headaches and too many bills to keep up with on top of all the school work and mountains of things you have to assimilate daily, but the gods granted you with a bigger gift to handle it all.
Knowing she had few girl friends since having two kids made no sense in your mind—how could people have a friend like her by their side and let it slip through their fingers was beyond you, but at least you ended up here, at the same time as her.
"Thanks, babe." You reached over the table to squeeze her hand. "There's no need for that, though—it's not even about the price at this point, it's just the quality of the work I've seen."
It was true; the only two options you'd found available (with prices salty enough to give you kidney stones) inspired little to no confidence at all to you.
Lazy, overpriced work.
Apparently, mechanics who worked with old cars and knew the inner-work of engines that didn't fall under these new modal types were rare to come by now.
Sarah straightens her posture suddenly, then lifts a finger in your direction. "Wait—I just remembered I can actually help you," she grins as she takes her phone out of her pocket.
You wait patiently behind her lifted finger. Sarah texts someone and her grin widens when her phone pings with a reply, and after she exchanges a couple more texts, she looks up at you with the satisfaction you usually see on her face after she aces a paper she worked really hard on.
"Who's the Superwoman of your life?" The question is rhetorical and judging by the grin on her face, she's aware of it.
"You are." You extend both hands towards her. "Please tell me you know someone who knows a good mechanic. I don't even care if I'm gonna drown in debt next month, I'll post double and pay it when I can, just—do you have it?"
Sarah wiggles her phone in the air. "You owe me a sandwich from Alex & MD."
"S, I'll bring you sandwiches for the next three weeks. Text me the number, c'mon," you giggle at her.
Sarah throws her hair over her shoulder, pleased with the negotiation, and you feel your phone vibrating with her incoming message.
"This is the address to my brother's friend's place." Sarah opens her textbook again, and starts separating her highlighters. "He's an army-vet too, they served together on Sam's last tour and when he came back, he opened the shop with the money he had saved. I've seen him only a few times, so I forgot about it—he's pretty nice, I don't think he's the type to overcharge for honest work, or at least he didn't seem like it when I met him."
"Hon, if Sam vouches for him, I'll sell my kidney on the black market, no problemo. Who needs kidneys anyway?" You scoff. "Not me. What do they even do?"
Immediately, Sarah answers.
“They control acid-base, water and electrolyte balance, remove toxins and waste products from the body, and— uhm…” she trails off, pursing her lips together in an effort to remember.
You pick it up from where she left off. “Control blood pressure, produce erythropoietin and—”
“Activate vitamin D,” she finishes with you.
You two smile at each other.
“And they said studying together doesn’t work.” She scoffs, and pushes the open textbook towards you. “Your turn. Gimme that Anatomy beast.”
You slide the Anatomy textbook to Sarah, picking up the one she gives you in return and placing it in front of you.
Then you open her text message, forwarded from Sam’s conversation:
sure I do! Bucky’s one of the best mechanics I’ve ever met. tell her to let him know she’s a friend of mine and he’ll look a little less intimidating ;) he’ll take good care of her ride.
Attached to the message was an address and phone number.
Quickly, you throw the address on Google and you see it on street view the location Sam sent.
It’s a garage named Barnes Auto in big, bold blue letters. The sign is simple, black and blue, and the garage looks bigger than most you see on the main streets of NY, as well as more illuminated.
From the get go, it inspires a little more trust than the last places you’ve checked.
Plus—it was recommended by Sam.
Even if it’s a steeper price than what you can afford, your car is worth it. It’s your only possession so far in life, its seats and engine are filled with memories and even if it sometimes saddens you to remember why you have it in the first place, it’s still valuable and loved.
It’s where you and Sarah had your first heart-to-heart, it’s where you discovered you got in Medical School, and it’s where you want to have many more memories.
What if you have to spend the next few weekends doing some… extra work?
The promise you’d made to yourself that you’d take Bullet to the garage as soon as possible is left behind for almost a week in a haze of lectures, notes, essays due to the next day and, as always, trying not to lose your mind.
Work is helpful when it comes to paying you— both you and Sarah work as hostess in a very fancy restaurant up in the Upper East Side, which is wonderful for tips (old men slipping hundred dollar bills when they think you’re giving them special treatment is the highlight of your weekends) and even better to keep you afloat.
Still, working there doesn’t pay all the bills.
Sarah sells homemade cakes that she puts in cute little cups during break times in Uni, and you… well.
You sell pictures online.
Sarah’s the only person in your life who you’ve ever told about it, and knowing of your online “persona” and not judging you was the reason you two became so close.
“Honey, if people are paying money to see you pose in lingerie, you’re a damn genius in my book and nothing else.”
It had started when you turned seventeen and your mother opened up about the financial situation on your house, and why it had changed so much since your dad left— he was the biggest income of the house and she felt bad — your heart broke to this day to remember it — over not being able to give you as much as he did.
Granted, your father paid for your medical school, relieving you of a lot of debt, but—that was it.
If you called to ask him how he’s doing, chances of getting an answer were slim to none.
He thought the money made up for everything else.
So, you’d decided to make extra cash in a way no one would find out, but you knew it paid off if done right—you started selling sexy pictures.
You’d never sold a fully nude, most of your pictures were viewed as “teasing” or “erotica”, and the spicier ones included new lingerie sets you only managed to afford because of the pictures you started selling, but overtime, the persona you created and the teasing Q&As served for good savings.
The point was: you were never swimming in money.
If something could be pushed off ‘till the next check, it was.
Unfortunately, Bullet — because yes, your car has a name — decides that working properly isn’t something it feels like doing anymore and on a Sunday of all godforsaken days, it starts doing the same noise it did before.
While you’re going back home. Tired from work, at nine pm, Bullet starts making weird groaning sounds through its engine and you turn it off, pulling it to the first open side of the road you find.
“Oh god, please be open, pretty please, please.”
The number Sam had offered you rings three times while you shiver in the chilly October air, and before you can lose hope, the call goes through.
“Barnes Auto, this is Bucky speaking.”
“Oh, thank god,” you cry. “I thought you’d be closed by now, oh my god I’m so lucky and so, so stupid. I should’ve taken the car there days ago but I forgot, and now I’m rambling in your ear—I’m sorry.” You take a deep, shaky breath, then try again. “Hi. This is Y/n, and my precious, precious baby is about to die. I can’t let that happen. Sam Wilson told me you could help? You’re Bucky Barnes, right?”
After your embarrassing introduction, you’re expecting a gruff and exasperated tone answering you.
Instead, a low chuckle comes through the line.
“Only Bucky around.” And oh—that’s a nice voice. Smooth, melodic in a way. “I’m assuming you’re Y/n, Sarah’s girl.”
You wince with your whole upper body— Sam had even warned his friend that you’d drop by. God, you’re a lost cause.
“That’s me.” There’s sheepishness in your voice, the guilty and unsaid ‘sorry I haven’t dropped by yet’, and Bucky must hear it, because he chuckles at you again. “Is this like—a horrible time? Are you closing? I could just tow the car to your place and be there first thing in the morning. I can do a few days without it—I live a bit far from the school, but I’ll get around. I just—I know there’s a problem somewhere and it isn’t with the basic stuff ‘cause I’m always checking those and… And I’m rambling again. God, I’m so sorry,” you shiver again.
“Are you on the road side?” Is all Bucky asks. If he’s bothered by any of your nervous rambling, it doesn’t come out in his voice.
“It’s cold. Call the tow truck and get here; I can squeeze you as the last job of the day.” The way he says it leaves no room for argument, but after a relieved sigh, you still feel the need to thank him.
“Okay, yeah— I’ll call them now.” You take another deep breath, feeling most of the nervousness leave your body with Bucky’s certain and steady tone. “Thank you so much, Bucky. Really—thank you.”
With his next chuckle, you realize just how nice he sounds laughing, even if it is at you.
“Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t even touched your baby.”
“I’ll make sure to thank you when you do, then.” Usually, smiles this honest are hard to be invoked in you, but Bucky seems to do it easily with his teasing.
“Sure thing.” There are a few noises on his side of the line, and then he exhales. “I’ll be waiting.”
He hangs up and you stare at your phone for a second, a little lost on why this small exchange relieved you so much.
The tow truck is called and soon, you’re inside your car on your way to Barnes Auto, praying to anything that’s hearing that his bill won’t look like the dinner bills at the place you work at.
The driver leaves you at the street and you drive Bullet inside of the auto shop with your radio blasting your playlists at an ungodly volume, as per usual.
With snaps and rumbles that sound as horrible as they probably are, you park in the open garage and the only life you see inside of it comes from the few dim lights that are still on.
Then, the noise of the garage door being pulled down behind you points to the life your eyes have been searching for—through the rear mirror you see there’s a figure in dungarees closing the shop, and you exhale happily that you made in before ten pm, because Bucky Barnes is already at angel in your eyes to be working until this hour on a Sunday.
You try turning off your sound system, but it only lowers and raises the volume—great, now the problem’s infiltrated the electrical part of the car.
“Are you kidding me?” You mutter to yourself. “Bullet, this is not the time.”
In the rear mirror, the figure approaches your car.
Through your speakers, Hozier is still singing.
With the war of the fire, my heart moves to its feet. Like the ashes of ash, I saw eyes in the heat, feel it—
The tall and broad figure of Bucky stops outside your driver’s door just as you finally manage to turn the sound off.
When he leans down to peek his head inside, the both of you stare at each other for a heartbeat that stills everything in your mind.
The man standing outside of your car is nothing of what you'd expect.
Matter-of-factly, you realize looking into deep blue eyes that you hadn't spared a second to what Bucky must look like. The only information you had was offered by Sarah—"Barnes has a prosthetic metal arm, and he usually answers questions about it depending on how they're asked, but my brother's told me before he doesn't really like talking about it".
Nothing in the report included Maldives-Ocean blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and pretty, pink lips. There was not a single footnote about the smooth, long hair which he kept in a low bun at the back of his neck, or the strand of hair that escaped and framed his sharp cheekbones.
Not that Sarah had the duty of warning you of a beautiful man.
Even if she had, you think, it wouldn't have prepared you for that face mere inches away from yours.
"It has a name?" Is the first thing Bucky says to you in person.
Completely lost in the shade of his eyes, your eloquent answer is: "Huh?"
God, you must look like a fool. Bucky scratches the back of his neck with his left hand and you catch a metallic glimpse with the motion.
"Your car? It has a name," he repeats, still sounding a little like a question.
"Oh!" He heard you complaining. You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, burning them entirely. "Yeah—this is Bullet." You run your hands through the steering wheel and turn your eyes away from that face before your heart leaps out of your chest.
Holy fucking god.
Bucky Barnes has got to be one of the prettiest men you've ever seen.
Fuck—you curse mentally how flustered you feel to be under his observing gaze, your heart beating way too fast for your liking.
"Nice name." Nice voice, you answer mentally. "Can I have the keys? I wanna move it to the back. It's where I work."
Right! You ignore the Grinch-like voice screeching around your brain about this man's godly beauty, and then remove the keys from the ignition to place them on Bucky's waiting palm.
You slide to the passenger seat. When he's fully seated inside, you focus your attention on the panel to talk again, since looking at Bucky's face seems to do things to your insides. "Now that you've touched it, thanks."
It's only Destiny's irony that Sam's apparent best friend and now your savior would be the first man to actually spike your interest in, well—forever.
And of course you'd be trapped in work clothes with him inside your nearly broken baby.
Bucky chuckles at your side and starts the engine. "How d'you know I'll know what's wrong with it?"
At least that's an easier question. "Sam vouches for you." From the handful of times you've met the paramedic, you know Sam's one the most trustworthy people ever. "And you didn't make the face when seeing that it's a 60s car."
"The 'ugh, this isn't an automatic BMW or Hyundai, why is she driving this piece of shit?' face." You've seen it enough times by now. You shrug your shoulders, still not meeting his eyes again. "Most mechanics nowadays seem to be allergic to them."
"Any mechanic worth his money should smile seeing an old beauty like this."
"Not a lot of them running around lately." Bucky opens the next garage door with his remote control, then leads the noisy Bullet towards the open and large garage at the back. "Trust me, I've looked."
"How long have you been looking?" He asks you.
Humming, you think about how long it's been since you stopped going to Mr. Emmon.
"A year, I think?" Feeling a little bolder now that Bucky's opening your door and exiting the car, you steal another glance at him. "Haven't found anyone that seems to truly know what the fuck they're doing and when I did, they either seemed to think I'm an Upper East Side girl with money to blow—which I'd love to be, but am not, or a stupid and naive little girl that they can rip off to their liking, which I also am not, so." You sigh and exit the car too. "That took around a year."
Bucky's leaning with his hips on the hood of Bullet and listening to you with the hint of a smile on his face.
'He doesn't talk much, but Sam was right—just say you're our friend and he should seem a little less intimidating. He's not too keen on new people, that's all.'
Sarah's words make a lot more sense, now.
"You do have some of the Upper East glamour," says Bucky.
Thankful that the high glass ceiling and the low lighting of the back of the auto shop aren't enough to illuminate the flush that's back on your cheeks, you roll your eyes at him with a smile on your face.
"Thanks, it's all the hours spent watching actual Upper Easters eating their thousand-dollar dinners and guiding them to the bar for the hundred-dollar drinks."
It's said with sass, but you actually enjoy your job.
Bucky laughs under his breath. "Fair enough." He points to the hood of the car. "May I?"
"Oh my god, yeah—it's all yours."
He gives you half a smile again and goes to the front to open the hood.
You exhale slowly when he's out of your sight.
You can see now why Sarah warned you before coming here.
Bucky's reserved, quiet and pulling as much as a smile out of him seems to be harder than with most people.
You're not the friendliest person — an eternal case of Resting Bitch Face tends to keep most unwanted interactions away from you — but when you try, people flock to you easily.
Making others smile and laugh with their whole chest is far from a task to you.
People are your thing. Helping them when it hurts—that's a talent you were born with.
Even still—Bucky seems to be different.
You swallow thickly, a knot forming on your throat at the racing thoughts on your mind.
Why should you want to see him smile? Bucky seems happy underneath the seriousness, he is far from being your patient (as far as you are from being a doctor) and you've literally just met.
Logically, you're aware of all that.
Still, for some reason, you want to hear him laugh.
"Bullet's well-cared for." His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you see him leaning to the side of the hood to look at you. "You take good care of him," he praises.
It goes straight to your head, and the blushing only gets worse.
"Oh—thanks." Tentatively, you take a couple of steps closer. Leaning against the side of the hood, you can see Bucky looking at the engine with hands that are already black from a whole day of work. "I don't get the engine parts and the inner works, but I can get by with the basics."
He looks up at you with raised eyebrows. "What's the basics?"
Unlike all the other mechanics you've met, his question feels laced with genuine curiosity other than entitlement.
Like he wants to know how much you do for the car, instead of "testing" your knowledge.
You clear your throat. "Well, I always keep the oil in check and change it before it starts to get darker—I know with newer cars you can wait 'till it's at the point of changing, but with older ones, it's better to keep it fresh to help keep the engine clean." Your dad made sure you remembered that before he left. "Water's always filled up, brake pads were checked last year, and I always keep an eye on the tires."
When you're done listing all the things you're familiar with, Bucky's hidden smile becomes an actual smirk.
"D'you know how to change tires?" He asks, curiosity lacing every word.
You shrug. "Yeah, of course."
"'Of course', she says." He gives a breathy chuckle, looking down at your car's engine again. "I had mechanic students enrolling last year who didn't. Well—he claimed he knew it 'in theory', but never changed a tire before in his life." Bucky sounded very amused for someone who was rolling his eyes. When he opens your water reserve tank, he looks up at you. "Have you changed one before?"
Now he's teasing you.
"Yes, Mr. Barnes. I've changed tires before in my life," you answer with enough sass to rev a Porsche engine. "Every friend I have that learns I can change a tire calls me when they have a flat one."
He nods at that, smiling a bit more. "Good, good."
"Do you know how to change a tire?" The silly and teasing question is out of your lips before you can stop yourself.
You freeze on the spot, but Bucky looks up at you surprised, and then, he bursts out laughing.
Oh, what a lovely song.
"Yes, ma'am. I do."
He's still chuckling when he looks down at Bullet's engine again, shaking his head at himself.
"D'you wanna take a seat? This is gonna take a few minutes." He points to the bench that's in the middle of all the cars parked in this area, but there isn't an inch of you that wants to move.
"Actually... does it bother you if I watch?" You ask in a smaller voice. Something about the calm and calculative way Bucky roams the pieces of Bullet makes you feel good. "You can totally say no—I know lots of people hate being watched working. I'm just—I like watching. I used to sit in the garage with my dad as he re-did some stuff on his cars and pass him the tools, you know? It soothes me."
You have no idea what on earth brings you to offer the last bits of information to him—it's not as if Bucky cares why the hell a strange woman wants to watch him work, but talking with him is so easy that it just... slips by.
When he looks up at you, he watches your face for a few moments before shrugging his shoulders.
"Feel free." He points to a chair that's close to the garage door. "You can grab that."
For the next twenty or thirty minutes, you sit in silence a few feet away from Bucky as he analyzes superficially what can be wrong with Bullet.
In every other auto shop visit, you spent the entire time thinking about cash and your father.
In here, all you can think about is how beautiful Bucky's metallic arm looks under the moon and the LED lights.
How calm he looks while picking apart a machine that you can only begin to understand.
You watch Bucky work with a tilted head, only glancing at your phone vibrating like crazy to see how much time has passed.
Looking and reading the messages you received is unnecessary now: Sarah's gonna have to wait.
(You had sat down and texted her only two things: YOU owe me Alex & MD sandwiches for a week. A warning would've been nice.
He's the prettiest thing I've ever seen, S. Wtf?)
When Bucky's done with his superficial diagnosis, he sighs deeply.
Immediately, you groan out loud and drop your face behind your hands.
"No, no—hey, it's not that bad." There's the sound of Bucky steps coming near you, but you're too scared to look up. "The time away from a mechanic's probably why one problem led to another, but from what I've seen, it shouldn't be too hard to fix."
You open your fingers just enough to peek your eyes at him.
"Promise?" You ask.
Bucky smiles at you fully for the first time.
"Yes. Leave Bullet to me, I'll run a complete diagnosis and by the end of the week, I'll tell you how much it'd cost to fix it all." He starts cleaning his fingers with the rug that was on his shoulders. "If it's too much to do all at once, we can see what needs to be fixed to get it running again—once you give me the green light, I'll start working on him."
Whether it's his reassuring smile or the fact that he calls your car by its name, you feel like you'd leave anything on this man's hands.
"Yeah. Sure." Your smile grows wider when he nods in satisfaction. "I hope Bullet behaves with you—she acts up whenever other people try driving her and stuff." You get up from the chair with a low chuckle. "I'm kinda sad I'll miss all the good bits."
Bucky starts walking back inside in the direction of what looks like the shop's office, and you follow him closely.
"You really like knowing all the nitty-gritty details?" He asks.
The look he sends back at you is the same as when he asked what was the 'basics' you knew—curiosity.
"I really do." The reason was sappy and something he'd hardly find interesting, so you try to keep it short. "I understand very little of what's going on, but I still think it's a really cool process. Operating machines is not up my alley."
Bucky laughs at you again. "Aren't you studying to operate the most complicated machine ever?"
Huh. He has a point.
"Good point." Bucky opens the office door and gestures for you to get inside, and as you enter you curse the better lighting inside it because in here your blush can't be missed, even on your tanned skin. "I guess it depends on the machine, then."
"The ones with oil and water are much easier than the ones with blood and... other fluids." Bucky gets behind his desk and starts looking through the papers.
"Are you trying to get me to change careers, Mr. Barnes?"
Bucky doesn't seem much older than you—you're in your mid-twenties and he must be ten years older than that, tops.
His lips curl in a funny manner at the 'Mister'. "That sounds like you're talking to my pops—just Bucky 's fine." He finds what he's looking for, and you can read from where you stand 'client file'. "And don't worry, Mrs. Y/L/N, I wouldn't dream of tryin' to change your ways."
You scrunch your nose, much like he had a second ago.
"Okay, I see it now; just Y/n is fine too." He chuckles at you, then pushes the paper towards you. "I think it'd be a bit late for me, anyway."
"Never too late to learn something you like." He seems to be quoting it from memory, and you look up from the paper to him. "'s what my dad used to say. It may be a little harder, but never impossible."
The sad smile Bucky gives you wrenches your heart impossibly tight.
"Mr. Barnes sounded very wise."
With your comment, his sad smile turns a little bit brighter.
You two sit in a comfortable silence as you fill in the form and Bucky explains the shop's working hours; apparently, this Sunday he'd been here doing paperwork that was overdue and you had caught him by luck.
You must thank him at least four more times before everything's written down and he closes the office behind you two.
"Uhm—I'd offer you a ride, but I came on my bike and I don't have a spare helmet, so—" he starts, but you interrupt him shaking your head profusely.
"Bucky, you've done plenty for me tonight, trust me." He laughs a little at your eagerness and scratches the back of his neck with his metal hand. You've noticed it seems to be a nervous habit of his. "I'm just gonna call an Uber and head home. Don't worry about lil' old me."
"Don't call yourself old in my presence, for the love of god," he groans.
Without looking up from your phone, you snort. "If you try to tell me you're one day older than thirty-five, I won't believe you, so I don't know what you're on about."
His silence makes you look up, and finding Bucky looking at you with his head tilted to the side and an inquisitive expression on his face is the last thing you needed at the end of the week.
He looks so curious. So soft.
"Thanks." He's trying to hold his smile back again, and for some reason, it makes you blush again. "But I'm thirty-nine."
He laughs at you, the same bright chest laughter as before when you asked if he could change a tire.
"Alright," says Bucky.
He starts shifting his weight from one foot to another, and you notice that he hasn't moved from your side because he's about to wait for you to get inside the Uber before he leaves.
Just what you needed on top of everything else—the man is a gentleman.
Do they even make men like this anymore? You'd been thoroughly convinced that the mold which made a kind, beautiful, and funny gentleman had been broken a long time ago.
"You didn't have to wait with me," you tell him in a whisper.
Bucky looks to you again with a frown on his face. "'Course I did."
Simple as that; 'of course' he did.
"D'you uhm... d'you want to have follow-ups for what I do to Bullet?" He asks, scratching his nape once more.
Not following, you tilt your head. "What do you mean?"
Bucky shifts his glance from you to where his bike is, then licks his lips.
"I don't usually offer this to clients 'cause most of them don't give a damn about what's done as long as it's done well, but you said you liked knowing, so—you don't have to, of course. You might like just watching, but if you wanna know, I could text you the updates."
The rushed, matter-of-factly and false careless way with which Bucky offers you that are the reasons why you're unable to lie to yourself: He's nervous.
Nervous to offer you this, as if you'd be crazy enough to say no.
"Of course!" His eyes widen a little at your enthusiasm, and this time you could care less about the heat on the top of your cheeks. "I mean—that's really nice of you to offer. If it's not gonna bother you or your work, I'd love some updates. I'm gonna miss her."
Bucky exhales clearly, then laughs lightheartedly.
"Why's it her?"
Your Uber notification tells you they're one minute away, so you use the gateway braveness to tell him.
"All my dad's rides were a 'her'." Even the one he hid for years and left you for. "He was a man of many hers, it turns out," you bitterly add.
Bucky catches on to the hidden words quickly, and his expression turns very somber.
"Many men are." His voice sounds lower when he's being serious, but still as melodic as ever. "It just means they aren't enough by themselves. So they need 'hers' and the highs to fill up imaginary holes, I've learned."
If this man impressed you anymore during one night, you'd end up leaving your heart in his shop's office drawer.
Thankfully, your ride pulls up just in time.
"Seems like the wisdom of Barnes passed on to the next generation." You extend your cellphone towards him. "Number. I'll text you something so you can update me on Bullet."
Bucky smiles down at your phone as he types his number, then offers it back to you with a tight-lipped, shy smile.
"I'll see you, Y/n." He looks at the Uber with calculating eyes. "Take care, yeah? Text me when you get home."
All the home, your thoughts linger on the way he stood in front of his shop watching your car leave.
When you get home, you text him: Lady Bullet's owner here. I'm home :)
And as a reply, you get: Happy you're home safe. Good night, Lady Bullet.
A/N: So, what do you think, guys?! :D I was thinking of another 7 Chapter, slow-build, pining and a little angst-filled series. This one might be a bit spicier, though... If you guys enjoy it, I'll make it a series! If not so much, I'll end it in the next chapter. Waiting on your thoughts.
NEXT CHAPTER —
Taglist ☆ @undiadeestos ; @keepingitlokiii ; @hallecarey1 ; @mardema ; @mollygetssherlockcoffee ; @fanofalltheficsx ; @justlovelifeblog ; @fallenoutofrose ; @rvgrsbrns ; @tripletstephaniescp ; @mal-edictions ; @rippl3s ; @barnesafterglow ; @vintagepigeon ; @juliarose219 ; @dirtyweenerking ; @couldabeenamermaid ; @fairytalebucky ; @bvckysmoon ; @buttybarnes1917 ; @rebekahdawkins ; @tylard-blog1 ; @xbeauxny ; @redirection04 ; @thatblondebrownie ; @carrotfantasimp ; @teenagedreams-bucky ; @buckyxplumsss ; @sltwins ; @iamtheonewhocares ; @imaginetwilight2704 ; @spiderdudetom ; @mrsbarnesinmyimagination ; @pineprincess ; @carmellasworld ; @cpag7 ; @iambeeee ; @agni-l ♥
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God Be You- Part 2
An obsession with a drummer having a metal arm turns into something very different very quickly...you can't say you are complaining though.
Word Count: 804
Warnings: Darkish stuff(?). Obsession. Manipulation. Mentions of cuckolding. Dubcon touching. Narratophilia makes an appearance. Possessiveness. Supernatural shit and a little smutty.
For @syntheticavenger 's Synth's spooky challenge. The song prompt I took was 'God be you' by Nostalghia
Kinktober: Day 11. Prompts: Narratophilia + Horror + Bucky Barnes
You- you…" you started, barely able to hold in the increased thumping of your heart, your mind clogging and shutting down as the drummer smirked at you, metal arm casually twirling his drumsticks the exact same way he had done in that pic.
"Me…" he started, walking over to the drawer next to his dresser, the echoing of his boots the only evidence of his existence if you were watching the mirror. Your body shut down as he pulled out a stack of pictures, lightly extending them towards you.
With shaking hands you took them, careful not to touch his skin. He chuckled at your startled gasp when you were faced with another of his bare body pics, close up pictures of his abs and lips and - fangs. The pictures turned filthier with each one that you tossed behind, the sound of Bucky's drumstick tapping against his thigh almost hypnotizing you.
Pictures from the nineteen twenties. Him and Steve in some bar, dancing with a few women. Him and Natasha in some club in Vegas in the eighties, him and Tony snowboarding through mountains which were no longer snow covered in this century. And to end it all, another picture of him with somebody else's hands wrapped around his dick, his eyes shut in pure ecstasy.
Well, that kinda stung.
That burned. You did harbour a tiny crush on the drummer, his blue eyes and fluffy hair and the faint lines of stubble along his cheeks always drawing you to him.
You hated that he was showing you pictures of somebody else touching him in that way.
It should have been you.
A cold hand touched your chin, a body sliding behind you. You felt him tilt your neck up, holding you still so you could keep facing the mirror.
"That was my girlfriend from the sixties. She was one hell of a minx," You couldn't watch what he was doing to you, not in the mirror at least. From the corners of your eyes, Bucky Barnes was gazing down at you, still in his drummer's outfit, all black and leather with heavy rings on all fingers. And nailpolish.
Bucky Barnes was telling you something about his fling from the sixties. 'She must be all grey and old now' you thought bitterly, shaking your head at why were you even so possessive about him.
You couldn't explain it. You just were.
And why the hell were your panties dripping wet already?
"Sweet fuck, I can smell you from here," Bucky started, fingers lining over your jaws and pushing your head backwards, his metal arm slowly flutterong over your breasts. "Does the thought of me fucking somebody else turn you on?"
You shook your head faster than you had expected, not really into the idea that he would believe you had a cuckolding kink, angry red lines of possessiveness keeping you from exploring things.
"So this pretty little thing," He wrapped his arms around your chest and pushed your breasts upwards, his thighs spreading and landing on both sides of your hips, keeping you from moving. "Likes to hear me talk about my old flames. So she can go imagine herself in their place and touch herself till she falls asleep. Isn't it?"
"Does knowing that I can make dames like you fall to their knees in seconds make you crave to be one of them?"
How does he know?
It is. You looked at pictures of Bucky every night, touching yourself and crying out his name, imagining his voice directing you to touch yourself in whichever places you did. You sometimes fantasize that it was him running his hands over your body and making you fall apart on his fingers, tongue and cock.
You sometimes played audio tapes of the select few interviews he had done, his velvety voice pushing you towards your brink.
"You couldn't keep yourself from coming in here, could you? Coming here to find out who I was. How old I am. Where I come from." He sneered, the sharp prick of something- his fangs, burning against your shoulder.
"Tell me, princess, isn't this what keeps you hooked to your phone all damn day?" You felt another prick on the side of your arm, his metal fingers lowering from your breasts to lift up the end of your top, slowly carving its course over the waistband of your jeans. "I got your dm's. I have access to your search history and your screenshots. Safe to say princess, you are pretty obsessed with me."
"I'm not. I was suspicious," you started, hesitating and watching his hands go lower before he popped open the button of your jeans, sliding the chain down. "I came across a few pictures which- which didn't seem right."
"I got Tony to hack into your account and inject a trojan. That's why you got all those pictures in just one sitting. Those aren't really for public eyes, babygirl. I wanted you to see them."
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summary ─ bucky spared you a cold look; his eyes were icy, stormy blue now instead of a warm ocean one. “no,” he said.
pairing ─ avenger!bucky barnes x avenger!reader
warnings ─ smut, +18, daddy kink, mentions of past sexual abuse, small talk of being “proposioned” (?), kissing, grinding, possessive sex bc bucky is a possessive mf, dirty talk
a/n ─ HELLO. i have abandoned this part of my blog for a year only for it to make a comeback exactly a year later lol. i’m hoping to complete my kinktober list. your comments will be my fuel, so please leave some! thank you! hope you like it! <3
KINKTOBER DAY EIGHT: avenger!bucky + enemies to lovers + possessive sex + daddy kink
Ever since you passed the tests and stepped into the Avengers Tower, because you were now one of them, Bucky Barnes hated you. He didn’t hide his hate or his disgust; he made sure that you knew exactly how he felt towards you. It was alright. Not everyone had to like you, but Steve wanted you to get along even though both of you made it clear that you did not want to get along, and he thought sending you both on a mission together as husband and wife would be a good idea to start a friendship between you.
Stupid, you thought. Steve Rogers was a stupid person, and whoever said about him being a master at strategic thinking was clearly wrong because there could not be a worse idea, yet thanks to Steve Rogers, there was one now.
Bucky’s first reaction was to snort and chuckle. “Nice joke,” he said, but then he saw the seriousness in Steve’s baby blues. His smile dropped, brows drew in together and his face got hard all of a sudden. “You are kidding, right?” Steve smiled innocently as he shook his head. Bucky spared you a cold look; his eyes were icy, stormy blue now instead of a warm ocean one. “No,” he said and crossed his arms on his chest. “No, send me with someone else. I hear Nat is available.”
Ah. Nat. You gritted your teeth to keep your angry growl in you. That redhead had been irritating you do the hell and back ever since you’ve met her at the trainings, long before you were an Avengers, and now every time when a new mission came out, Bucky had been trying to replace you with Nat.
“No, she isn’t,” Steve replied coolly. “Fury sent her away with Barton two days ago.” He shuffled the papers in front of him and folded the map. “Besides, she’s as good as Natasha. You know it was Nat who trained her, so I’m sure she’ll do great.” He flashed a sweet smile. “I know you both will do great. You’re our one of the best agents.”
You see, in a normal day, a compliment like that would make you feel shy, and probably would make your cheeks heat up because it was Captain fucking America, but today was not one of those days.
“You must be joking,” you said, letting out a dry chuckle. Then, your face hardened just like Bucky’s and you stepped forward. “You are joking, Steve. This is not going to work.” Steve sighed. He gathered the papers and grabbed the now-folded map.
“I am not, and you are going to this mission together,” he said with a stern voice that left no place to complain. “That is final.” He sent you both a commanding look and walked out of the room, leaving you alone. You heard Bucky mumbling to himself angrily, hissing and growling sometimes.
“I better not get injured,” Bucky snarled. You rolled your eyes.
“Shut up, Barnes,” you said. “We both know that you will because you’re a dumbass who cannot stay away from getting injured while on a mission.” Bucky sputtered, blinking, and watched you leave the conference room.
Things are going to be bad, he thought. I better hold on tight. Bucky sighed, fate accepted, as he, too, left the room.
Grunting, Bucky looked around as he tried to spot the guy they were after. He was one of the heads of HYDRA, and finding him meant finding all the other active HYDRA bases. He was playing a key role, was an important guy in that evil organization and Bucky knew him from his The Winter Soldier times. He was one of the commanders that he had to protect from all the other Soldiers. That bastard had been running and hiding for years now, and it was only fair for him to come forward and pay for what he did.
“Northeast corner, behind the purple jacket guy,” you murmured to him as you slid next to him at the bar, placing the faux-drinks in front of you. “He looks paranoid.” Bucky frowned as he looked down at the drinks and then you.
“What are you doing?” He asked, eyeing the drink you were taking to your mouth. “We’re on a mission.” You shrugged.
“I know,” you said. “These are not real drinks, geez, relax.” You rolled your eyes as you sipped the liquid in the tall glass. “Yours looks like whiskey, but it’s iced tea, and mine is sprite instead of a vodka.” You sighed witfully. “I wish it was vodka.”
“It’s not the time and place,” Bucky snarled. “We need to complete the mission.” You frowned.
“Look I get why you want to be done with it, trust me I do,” you started. “But you being impatient will make us rush things and the guy is already paranoid. You do not want to make him more paranoid, now, do you?” Bucky looked at you for a couple seconds, with a deep frown on his face and a clench on his jaw, he exhaled harshly.
“Fine,” he grumbled. You hummed.
“Drink then, husband,” you murmured. “We have a façade to put on, and I have dressed up just for the occasion.” You wiggled happily on your seat, happy to finally wear the dress you bought yourself month ago. Bucky’s eyes moved down, taking in your form in a body-hugging dress you had on.
“I can see that,” he muttered. Then, he frowned even more. “Fucking hell, I can see right through the fabric, what the fuck.” You giggled.
“I know!” You exclaimed excitedly. “That’s exactly why I bought this dress! This is my want-to-get-laid dress.” You looked at him smugly and saw the dark expression on his face. Surpassing a shiver, you cleaned your throat lightly. Bucky’s eyes traveled up and down one more time before they settled on your cleavage.
“Obviously,” he said, but it sounded a bit strangled. Your lips quirked up for a small smile. Bucky grumbled at your expression and turned his head away. You hid your full-blown smile into your sprite-filled glass.
Yeah, you didn’t like each other. Yeah, Bucky hated you for a reason you did not know yet. Yeah, you hated him back because he was being an asshole to you most of the time and always compared you with Natasha, but you could not ignore the sexual tension you both had since the beginning. He was not hard on the eyes, and you knew for a fact that he was good in bed. Like real good. Thanks to the girls in the PR, you knew how good he exactly was in bedroom because he slept with one of the girls there one night, and she didn’t shut up about it. In fact, she talked about it so much that you wanted to punch her and break her jaw so that she would stop, but Steve sent you on this mission with him before you could do that.
You weren’t jealous. You were lonely. It was too much sometimes, and hearing other people enjoying their free time with someone sometimes made you feel angry. When you thought about it, though, it did sound like a bit jealousy. Ugh, whatever, you thought.
“He’s on the move,” Bucky murmured, lightly nudging you. You quickly swallowed the cold liquid in your mouth and looped your arm in his extended one. “Ready?” You hummed.
“Ready, Freddie,” you said, wiggling your brows. Bucky frowned at you.
“Are you sure what you were drinking was Sprite? You act like you’re drunk,” he murmured. You rolled your eyes.
“That’s the point, idiot,” you grumbled. “I’m the drunk wife, and you’re the loving husband who’s taking care of his drunk wife. I’m gonna throw myself at him.” You frowned at him back. “We’ve talked about this!” It was Bucky’s turn to roll his eyes.
“I know,” he said. Then, he opened his mouth to say something but decided against it the last minute. “Whatever. Let’s go.” You whooped and started to hang off of his sculpted arm. You could feel the muscles moving under your palms and could feel the warmth seeping from him. He felt nice like this, but you weren’t going to tell that to anyone.
“I wanted to have another drink!” You said a bit loudly, pouting up at him. “Freddie, you promised me another drink!” Bucky clenched his jaw, and you saw a muscle twitch angrily there. You hid your smirk. His planned name was not Freddie, and you knew you were being annoying. You loved it.
“You’ve had enough, darling,” he said with soft voice even though his eyes were throwing daggers at you. “I think it’s time for us to go home, hm?” You watched the target with the corners of your eyes when you decided to fuck with Bucky a little. If he could be an asshole, then so could you.
“Hmm,” you hummed. “You gonna make me drink when we get home?” You asked him, batting your eyelashes as you licked your lips seductively. His dark eyes immediately snapped at your lips, watching the way your tongue wetting them, he swallowed.
“No,” he let out. “I’m gonna make sure your face is makeup-free, and you are in your pajamas before I put you to sleep.” You gripped his arm tighter.
“Aww,” you cooed. “You’re so good to me, Daddy.” You heard a choking sound coming from him, and you bit your tongue to stifle your laughter. You leaned against his body, plastering your barely covered one to his, you kissed his slightly pink cheek. “Would you like a reward?” You asked him with an innocent look on your face, but Bucky knew better. “I would give you all the rewards, Daddy, you know it.” You were afraid that Bucky was going to break a tooth by how hard he was clenching his jaw, but it was so fun to fuck with him like this.
“If you don’t behave I swear─” Bucky started, but before he could finish you saw the target moving towards you. “Don’t fuck this up,” he snarled. You hummed and purposefully stumbling and tripping while walking.
“Oops,” you murmured and giggled. “I think I had a bit too much, Daddy,” you whined. You stumbled once again and threw your body to the target’s lap. “Oh, crap, I’m sorry, sir.” You tried to get up, scrambling falsely while actually slipping your hand in the guy’s pocket to steal his keys and placing a tracker on his belt.
“Oh my─ Sheila!” Bucky exclaimed. You felt large palms grabbing you and pulling you up. “I’m so sorry, sir, she had a bit too much tonight.” He faked a nervous laugh.
“We were celebrating our anniversary, sir!” You exclaimed happily, a large grin on your face. “It’s our fifth year of being together,” you added for good measure and looked at Bucky with moony eyes. It was all fake, but you could see Bucky’s own eyes softening a bit. “He’s been taking care’a me real good. He’s the best.” You smiled shyly at Bucky and hid your face into this neck. You heard the other guys chuckle lightly.
“She’s cute,” the target mumbled. “You should keep that one.” You felt Bucky’s body stiffen.
“I know, sir, and I intend to,” he nodded. The target moved his eyes on your body; you could see that he had a hungry look in his eyes, and you suddenly wanted to punch him. Instead of doing that and jeopardize the mission, you snuggled deeper into Bucky.
“I have a room upstairs if you want to take care of her,” the target said. “I could have some men up there to help you if you want…” He winked at Bucky, and you felt sick. You whimpered.
“Fred, I think I’m going to be sick,” you murmured. You had to walk away from that motherfucker. Otherwise, one of you were going to hit him, you were sure about it. “Can we go?” You tightened your hold on Bucky, leaning against him even more. You came this far, and it would throw you both all the way to the beginning if you were fuck it up now.
“Yeah, honey,” Bucky murmured, a dangerous vibe in his voice tone sent shivers down your spine. “Yeah, we can go.” He gave the target a stern look. “Thank you for the… offer, but we have a room for ourselves. Have a good night.” You pulled at him.
“Suit yourself,” the guy grumbled. “You’d miss out a nice night. I could have had a couple more girls up in the room if that’s gonna make you say yes.” You dug your nails into his arms through the layers of fabrics.
“No, thank you, I’m good,” Bucky gritted. “I’m faithful to my wife and will continue to be so. Good night.” He nodded again and pulled you towards the exit. You followed him without saying anything, wanting to get out of the bar as soon as possible. Both of you didn’t talk until you were in the elevator and all alone.
“Motherfucker!” You growled. “I can’t believe─ Why can’t we kill him again?” You asked Bucky. He was fuming in silence; his eyes had fires going on in them, a dangerous darkness clouding his handsome face.
“Fury needs him to lead other high-level members of HYDRA,” he murmured quietly and calmy. He was way too fucking calm, though, and you felt the goosebumps licking all over your body. “You have the key?” You nodded and pulled it out of your bra. “Good. Tracker?”
“Placed it on his belt,” you said. He nodded.
“Good. Let’s go home before I go back and rip his head off for proposing me something… like that,” he snarled and got off the elevator when it stopped on your floor. You walked behind him, grimacing with each step because your heels were hurting your feet. Huffing, you stopped and took them off. You slipped inside the room when Bucky opened the door. Closing it behind you, you locked it.
“Hey,” you called out. “I’m angry, too, but it’s okay. We are away from him now,” you murmured when you saw his face. He was still angry, you could see it, he was practically vibrating. His eyes were dark, and he was clenching his jaw so hard that you were sure he cracked a tooth or two. “Bucky.”
“Why do you care?” He grumbled. “Get away from me.” You blinked. You weren't close, you knew that, and you weren't friends either. He hated your guts, so you hated his in return, but this… hurt for some weird reason. Swallowing, you nodded.
"I know what he did to you and just wanted to make sure you're alright," you huffed angrily. "Apparently you don't need it. Good night, Barnes." You walked into the joint room where the queen size bed was in with your heels in your hand and closed the door on Bucky's face.
You couldn't believe it.
You knew what your target did to him when he was The Winter Soldier; the sexual abuse and all the other disturbing jazz. You knew that in his HYDRA times Bucky got harassed and, hell, maybe he got raped. You honestly couldn't bear to read his whole file. After that proposition, you really just wanted to make sure he was fine, but he was busy being an asshole. Fine, you thought. Suit your-fucking-self.
You stripped the dress off your tired body and threw it on the armchair where your shoes were laying at the bottom of. You wanted to take a shower, to wash away the dirt and sweat, but you were exhausted and wasn't sure if you'd be able to finish your shower without passing out. So, you climbed into the bed only in your underwear. Relishing the softness of the covers and the mattress, you sighed, closing your eyes.
You didn't realize you have fallen asleep until you jolted awake when the bed shook a little under you. Frowning, you turned around only to come face to face with Bucky's tired but beautiful eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I wasn't sure if you've read my file, so, I just didn't want to think about it. I… I'm sorry." You watched him for a while.
"It's fine," you murmured. "I guess. I don't know." He narrowed his eyes. "You were sort of an asshole." He rolled them, next.
"And you weren't?" He huffed. "'Daddy?'" He raised an eyebrow. "'Freddie?' You were fucking with me, and you know that very well." You smirked.
"Aww," you cooed. "If you liked me calling you Daddy and wanted me to fuck with you that much, you could have just said so." You batted your eyelashes at him, causing him to scoff.
"You're a brat," he grumbled. "That's exactly why I didn't want to do this mission with you." You frowned and sat up on the bed, suddenly furious at the imply of you being not good enough.
"We got the shit done, and you're telling me you didn't want me on this mission? You are an asshole. Stop fucking underestimating me. I may not be Nat, but I am me. There will be no other you. Just like there will be no other Natasha, there will be no other me. I am unique on my own way, and that's why I am on this mission with you—"
Your words cut off by soft lips covering your slightly dry ones. You let out a surprised yelp, but Bucky's mouth swallowed it right away. His large palm cupped you cheek, and you felt his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You sighed. Placing your hands flat on his chest, you pushed him.
"What the fuck," you said with a slightly rough voice. Bucky kicked his lips.
"You've been teasing me," he started. "Sam kept saying that there is this tension between us and Steve once stated that it's sexual." You frowned.
"So, you wanna do what, fuck the tension out of your system?" He smirked. It was a filthy quirk of his lips that caused you to narrow your eyes at him. You didn't have to think about it too long, though, you shrugged. "Alright."
In a blink, you rolled over and straddled him. Bucky let out a deep groan as he wound his arms around you and pulled you down for a filthy kiss. Moaning, you wiggled on his lap, feeling his length hardening between your legs. You wiggled on his lap, grinding on the bulge that was getting bigger. You buried moans and whimpers into each other’s mouths as you continued to move on his lap. Your clothed core was grinding against his fabric-covered dick, making him hum and let out soft grunts here and there.
You didn’t know what made him so irresistible to you; you hated his guts, he underestimated and compared you to the others all the time, and he was an asshole to you most of the time, but there was something in him that made you let go the way you did. Whatever that something was, it had you writhing on his lap like a cat in heat, and you knew he was going to tease you so much in the following day.
You could care less, though. You were feeling so good, grinding on his bulge and kissing him stupid.
“God,” Bucky grunted. He dug his blunt nails into your skin, dragged them down and flipped you over with one smooth move. “Why can’t I resist you?” You whimpered brokenly into his mouth because, yeah, you would love to know the answer of that question. He let out a harsh exhale; his large hands pawed at your underwear, and you heard a ripping sound.
“You owe me a set,” you grumbled with a rough voice. You vaguely heard him humming approvingly and felt his hand on your bra next. Your ripped bra joined your underwear a second later, and Bucky draped his bulk over your body. He was grinding against your now-bare core, wetting up his dress pants and moaning into the crook of your neck. It felt fucking incredible. Your hands pulled on the hem of his shirt, secretly happy that he lost the tie and belt already, you moved your hands down and on to the front of his pants. The tent he made in his pants was huge, and you moaned.
“Take’em off,” you grunted. “Naked. Get naked.” Bucky hummed and pulled back to what you ordered him to. He got rid of his clothes in under half a minute, and both of you sighed deeply when your naked skins made contact.
“The way you wet my cock,” Bucky groaned. His hips moved against yours filthily, making you arch your back and moan. “I could slide right in, isn’t that right, darlin’?” You nodded. “You will let me, you will always let me, right?” You whimpered when his cock head bumped against your clit, and you nodded furiously. “And why is that? Hm?” You cried out as his hips started to move faster. “It’s because you’re mine,” he answered himself. “You’re mine and mine only. I can do whatever I want to do to you, and you will always let me because I own you.”
You arched your back even more, spreading your legs wider and throwing your head back, you whined. Bucky cursed. As much as he didn’t like you very much, he couldn’t deny that the sight right before him was fucking amazing. He groaned. Grabbing his dick, he lined it up and slid home in one go, making you gasp loudly. He could get used to these sounds, he thought.
“Yeah, jus’ like that, baby,” he hummed. “Let go. Scream. Sing. C’mon.” You whined as he started to move his hips. His cock was stroking all the soft and sensitive spots you have in your pussy, bringing tears to your eyes because it was just that good. You did as he said and cried out, gasped and whine loudly. You were going to deny that you made all of these sounds the next day, so you let them echo in the room freely.
For a while, both of you lost yourselves into the pleasure and good feeling of skin-to-skin contact. His cock was grazing over all the spots that had you gasping and moaning so sweetly into his mouth. They were driving Bucky crazy. He could feel that his orgasm was edging closer as his hips picked up the pace. You were moaning, groaning, whimpering and whining into his ear, curling into his body as he pounded into you when you decided to tease with him back.
“Daddy,” you whimpered. “Fuck, Daddy, so fucking good!” You bared your throat to him as you felt his pace falter and felt him coming with a shocked gasp. You froze for a second before you chuckled.
“Shut the fuck up,” he grumbled breathlessly. Your orgasm was right there, but you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. Bucky grunted as he pulled out. He cursed. “I said shut up.” You just giggled harder. You never imagined calling him Daddy would make him come that fast, but you weren’t complaining. It was weirdly ethereal to watch him come. You heard him grumble one more time before your world turned upside down as he flipped your over on your belly and slammed inside you, all hard and ready to go again.
You cried out. He immediately set up a punishing pace; the back of your thighs getting kissed by his own harshly, the obscene sound of slicked skin slapping against each other was echoing in the room and you could faintly hear the wet sounds that your pussy was making. You groaned throatily.
“You’re not giggling now, are you?” He asked, voice tone all mean and rough. You shivered. He gave you a particularly hard thrust and made you choke on your next breath. He grabbed your hair, pulled it back and exposed your throat. “Aw, you’re crying, lookit you.” You sobbed. His cock was touching and grazing and stroking your sensitive walls so perfectly that tears wouldn’t stop rolling down your cheeks.
“F-fuck, Bucky!” You cried out. You heard him tsk at your ear.
“That was not what you called me a minute ago, now, was it?” He licked your neck, sucked on your earlobe and scratched the skin of your shoulder with his scruff.
“Daddy!” You sobbed. Bucky let out an approving hum. “Daddy, please! Fuck, ‘m so close, please!” Bucky made a thoughtful sound as his pace got faster.
“You laughed at me, bub,” he said. “I don’t know if I should let you come.” You whimpered. Bucky pulled on your hair more, making you arch your back deeper and baring your throat more. He leaned in. His thrusts slowed down, but with a slight elevation of your hips, they were suddenly long and deep. You gasped.
“Please,” you whispered. Your orgasm was right fucking there. You were so close that you could taste it, taste the blinding pleasure waiting to explode behind your eyelids. You clenched around him, dug your nails into his thick thighs and tried to move your hips against his.
“Bubba,” he whispered, sounding strangled. “What are you doing?” You whined.
“Please, Daddy,” you whispered back. “Please, ‘m so close. Fuck, Bucky, please.” You clenched around him one more time. Bucky growled.
“Fine,” he said, letting go of your hair, he pressed your face into the mattress as he started to pound into you with hard, quick and deep thrusts. You screamed. Your nails dug into his thighs fully, making him gasp at the pain and making him move even faster. “Only I can fuck you like this, you hear me?” You nodded. “Only I can make you fucking lose it.”
“Yes, yes, yes, only you, fuck,” you babbled. Bucky groaned loudly.
“Come,” he rasped. “Fucking hell, bubba, come.”
With a loud gasp and choked off groan, you clenched around him tighter than ever and came on his cock. The breath knocked right out of your chest, mouth dropped open as you squeezed your hands on his legs. There was a buzzing sound in your ears, drowning out all the other noises around you. You vaguely felt him reach his own peak for a second time, filling you up with his come. You hummed. He pulled out, rolling onto your side with a huff, both of you lay like that for a while.
“It doesn’t change a thing, you know that, right?” He said. You frowned lightly but nodded.
“I still don’t like you either, don’t worry,” you murmured. “This was the first and the last time you ever fucked me, so,” you shrugged. “Hope you enjoyed.” You heard him hum.
“I did,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t be so sure about this being the last time, though.” You let out a harsh laugh.
“I’m not fucking you again, Barnes,” you said and got off the bed. “Go get yourself a fleshlight if you’re so desperate.” As you disappeared into the bathroom, Bucky frowned. Two seconds later, he was up and following you in to the bathroom. “What─ Get out.”
“Why would I need a fleshlight when I have you to fuck my frustration out of?” He asked. “We both know it’s convenient for us both. Missions go bad, we find each other and fuck the extra adrenaline out of our system. Would it be so bad?” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Yes. I can’t be with someone in any way when they humiliate and underestimate me all the time,” you said and pushed him out of the bathroom. “If you excuse me,” you added, closing the door on his shocked face.
“Fuck,” he whispered. He had some apologizing to do, apparently, and that was okay. Bucky would find a way. He always did.
i'm so sorry. i apparently forgot how to write smut and how to end a fic. please tell me what you think!
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baby, but you.
summary. | He hopes you can feel it, because nobody else can heal it but you. Baby, but you.
warnings. | smut, hate fucking (ish), enemies to lover, slight angst, birthdays, degradation, praise, spitting, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, yearning, crushing, riding, couch sex, breeding, possessiveness, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI AND DO NOT REPOST MY STORIES.
word count. | 3.6k
pairings. | Bucky Barnes x Reader.
a/n. | happy birthday @asadmarveltrashbag ilysm!!! thank you so much for being there for me since like day one, for being such a good role model and for just being amazing. thank you so much for listening to me rant and giving me advice, i’m so grateful for you. i hope your birthday is amazing today, i love you so much!! don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know.
He stands afar from you. A cold, calculated stare that you’re almost tempted to challenge with your killer one. There are only about two and a half meters of space separating you two, and even that’s not enough. You’re like a cat and a dog, constantly fighting about God knows what. Sometimes it’s the stupidest of things; other times, it’s the most reasonable. Either he has the television on too loud, or you come home too late. The other neighbours… Well, frankly, they don’t live here anymore.
It’s because they can’t handle his screaming when he has nightmares. You scoffed when you first heard it from your landlord, finding it absolutely insane that nobody is used to the sounds of a nightmare. As if they’re any better. You handle it like a champion, simply just putting on earbuds and your favourite songs at the lowest volume until you fall asleep. You almost feel bad for him when you see him with deep bags under his eyes.
But one short, snarky remark from him has the sympathy in you draining. Almost like the way his hands are the palest colour ever, and his skin doesn’t have the redness it should have. Almost as if the colours on a painting have been scraped off. You shouldn’t be noticing these things, really, but you just can’t help it. He’s almost a shell of the man he once was, at least in his words, but you believe that with some care (not from your hands, ew), he’ll be back to normal.
He shouldn’t notice the way you sigh every time you get home. The way you drag yourself through the carpeted hallway, out from the metal box that Bucky doesn’t trust. He doesn’t charge anything that has to do with heights, so that’s why he’s settled for the second floor. The drop in his stomach brings back so many memories that he can’t bear to remember.
Sometimes, he picks up the rumble of your stomach that he knows you’re embarrassed about, only because when it happens, you become the most fearful sailor to ever cross the shore. You always arrive right before Bucky falls asleep, leaving him at peace. ...No, no, no. It’s not like that. He totally doesn’t wait up until you come home safely before he can actually fall asleep so he can have a sense of calm. No, that’s absurd. Another absurd thing is the ungodly hour that you arrive home.
“Listen, you’re the one who bumped into me, okay? Let’s just leave it at that,” you huff, swinging your keychain between your fingers. Your digits are so soft, only ever coarse when you touch the skin between them. His hands, however, are almost the opposite. They’re rough and dry, but the crevices are a bit damp with sweat from pure nervousness. “No, no, you bumped into me, and we’re going to leave it at that, okay? Okay,” he nods, even though he’s talking to you.
“No, you bumped into me, and that’s that. Goodbye, Mr. Barnes,” you finish, throwing your bag over your shoulder and stomping down the hallways. You don’t look back once, simply just strutting your way to that darned elevator that you loathe. Suddenly, a hand wraps around your arm and turns you around. “I didn’t say you could go; we’re not done until I say we’re done,” he growls, gripping your arm tight enough to have you whimpering.
“No, fuck you. I’m tired of constantly listening to you bitch and moan about things that aren’t even my fault. God, it’s like you’re twenty fucking years old with no maturity, it’s fucking pathetic,” you spit, trying to yank your arm away. But compared to a supersoldier, your strength is equal to a cool spring breeze hitting a concrete building—basically nothing. Bucky’s chest heaves, and for a moment, you’re scared.
But even though he has a temper, he could never hurt you. He’s not the Winter Soldier; you’re sure of it.
His jaw clenches, and you stare at him intensely. Work is long forgotten, just like the fact that today is your birthday. That nervous, jittery feeling that would pool in the pits of your soul isn’t there. You wonder if it’s because you’re all grown up now, or maybe it’s because you’ve been so busy that your birthday seems like any other day in your eyes. Your eyes fall to his lips, almost on instinct. They’re pink and plump, slightly damp from the wetness on his tongue.
He gently pushes you inside his home, and you stumble back in shock. “I have to go to work–” you start, but he cuts you off. “I don’t give a shit. I need to teach you a lesson,” he snaps, pulling off his leather jacket. It has blue hues to it, sometimes grey if shone under the correct lighting. It’s overall black, suiting that dark soul of his that some people claim he has. You keep your mouth shut, clutching onto the strap of your backpack that rests on your right shoulder.
Suddenly, that fiery haze of yours has faded out, and you just watch him dumbfounded. Your jaw is slightly slack, but your eyes aren’t bulging out. Bucky pulls off the unusual leather gloves that always seemed to be a little too big on him. The space between his fingers and the cloth is always too much, and you even contemplated ‘accidentally’ giving him a new, better-fitting pair.
They flop onto the floor with an almost laughable sound, but you know you shouldn’t even dare to crack a smile. “Always going on and on about something. You just need to be shut up for once, don’t you?” Bucky questions, snapping his head towards you. “N- No…” you whisper, looking down to the ground. Suddenly, you prefer looking at wood floors to handsome men such as Bucky.
“Oh… Right, I forgot. You don’t know what’s good for you, that’s why you go to work and come home so late in the night. Bet you don’t have any time to fuck around with those pathetic twenty-year-old douchebags. That’s why you touch that little pussy of yours before you head to work, right?” he questions, and you gulp thickly.
Did he really hear it all?
“Please, I heard the way you finger fuck yourself in the shower all the way here. You really need to learn how to properly lock your door. You’re lucky those old ladies were here when I heard you, or else I would’ve come all the way over there and taught you a real good lesson,” he snaps, and you genuinely feel like doubting every little thing you do. “And you know what’s so funny, doll? I even hear the way you moan my name when you’re about to come,” he whispers, standing so close to you, and you wonder how he even managed to get here.
Your faces are inches away, His warm breath fans against your skin, and Bucky can feel the nervousness seeping through your pores. “Need a refresher? Or are you just going to stay quiet?” he questions, raising his eyebrows. He has a stupid smile on his face, and you’re not sure whether you want to kiss him or slap him. Both seem very appealing, but God, that devil on your shoulder always did have a loud voice.
Your bag joins his gloves on the floor, and you tilt your head upwards to kiss him. Your lips slowly slot against his, the taste of stale coffee immediately fills your mouth as Bucky shoves his tongue past your lips. He cups the side on your face, and your hands remain bent in the air. You don’t know what to do with yourself, so you place them on his shoulders, hoping for the best. He tenses up for a bit, and you start to pull away.
He doesn’t let you go too far. His hands keep you near him, and he stares into your eyes. Blue, blown-out orbs give Bucky an even darker look, and you’re practically sailing the same ship. “Don’t… Don’t go,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “I won’t, but-” you begin, but he cuts you off with an open-mouthed kiss. It’s so rough, so passionate. Teeth and tongues clash at each other, and you whimper against him as his hands move from your face.
They run down your body before gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him. His front presses against yours, and you can feel his defined muscles through that black t-shirt of his. You wrap your arms around his neck, such a simple act and yet he’s swooning like the lovesick fool he is. No, no, no, he’s not lovesick, and he’s not swooning. He’s just wanting, and that is all, just like you are.
You roll your hips for friction, desperate for something. The faint feeling of Bucky’s hard cock sends shivers down your spine, and you just know he’s huge. He could probably split you in two if he really wants to, and maybe it’s what you want as well. God, just the mental image of his cock sliding in and out of you is so pleasurable. Wetness soaks your panties, and you moan into his mouth.
“Say ‘ah,’ slut,” he mumbles before pulling away from the kiss again. You quickly do so and watch as Bucky puckers his bruised, red lips. You’re not sure what to expect; a stupid, silly kiss or something else. Your tongue is stretched out inside your mouth, and you wait for him as your chest rises and falls. Your eyes watch him as he spits into your mouth, a wad of spit dripping onto your tongue and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.
You quickly swallow it as if it’s some sort of antidote to an incurable disease. “Oh, you’re such a dirty fucking girl, aren’t you? I bet you’d let me do anything to you, right? Let me fuck you silly, throw you around, treat you like the spoiled brat you are,” Bucky growls with a fierce smirk on his stupidly gorgeous face. Sculpted by the Gods themselves, you wonder why the world has been so mean to him.
No, no, no, you don’t. You’re just desperate and needy.
“You really are stupid, and I haven’t even touched that little pussy of yours yet, and you can’t even answer a simple li’l question,” Bucky says out loud, expressing pure shame and disgrace. You shake your head before placing your hands back on his hard, defined chest. There’s a specific spot on his chest where the fabric is too sheer. You can see the way his soft hair has been shaved down to a mere stubble, and you wonder what he’d look like if it was grown out.
“I- I’m a dirty girl, I’d let you do anything to me, James,” you whisper to him, looking up at him with unintentional doe eyes. “I know, baby, I know,” he smirks before pushing you backwards. You expect to collide with the wooden floors harshly and startle the downstairs residents, or maybe even on a carpet that would try to break your fall but would end up failing.
You don’t expect to fall back onto a soft, cushioned couch. It’s more so an armchair that is a greyish-blue colour, one that you’d see and Ikea and want so bad, but you’d quickly change your mind once you see the whopping price it’s set at. Bucky towers over you, and you tilt your head up, still watching has the features of his face twitch a bit. His hands run down to your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your jeans before his nimble yet strong, thick fingers reach to the button and zipper.
He makes quick work of stripping your clothes off for you, and you try your hardest to do the same for him. But flying, clashing hands that are oh so desperate can’t really do much. So as he pulls your wet panties down your feet, you hurriedly kick them to the floor. Bucky pulls his shirt over his head, and you’re not sure if you’ve lost it or if time truly has slowed down. You’re able to memorize each freckle, each scar, each mole and each muscle of his upper body.
He’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Though everyone has their measly little flaws that can be so bothersome, in your eyes, he has no flaws. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he breathlessly tells you, making you struggle to fight the cheerful smile that forces its way onto your face. “You’re pretty too, James,” you tell him, reaching backwards to unclasp your bra.
Now, there’s nothing special about it, really. It’s plain black, and in some areas, it physically pains you, leaving branded marks behind that feel good when you gently run your hands over them. Nonetheless, you look gorgeous with it on. But when it’s on the floor, treated like nothing, you’re even more beautiful. Your slick has stained your inner thighs with stickiness, and your clit throbs with need.
Bucky parts your legs, watching as strings of wetness pull apart from each other. “Fucking hell, is that all because of me, slut? Say it, tell me who you’re so wet for,” he demands, and your breathing hitches. “S’all for you, James, I’m so wet because of you,” you whisper to him, and he smirks devilishly. You clench around nothing but air, desperate for his cock to be inside you. “I want you so bad, James, please fuck me,” you beg to him desperately, and he chuckles.
Bucky goes to start taking off his pants, unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper that sometimes gets caught onto the fabric of his boxers a little too much. The black fabric slips off his skin like an extra layer of skin, and the sight of his hard cock beneath his briefs is so sexy. You let out a shaky breath, and you can just see how fucking huge he is. Impossibly long with a thickness that’ll leave you limping for at least a week or two.
“You know what’s so fucking hilarious, baby? Just moments ago, you were cursing me out, fuming at me and calling me pathetic, but look at you; you’re the pathetic one here. Practically drooling for my cock, so needy as soon as I put my hands on you,” Bucky scoffs, and you know he’s so right. He pulls down his boxers, and you watch as his cock springs out, slapping his lower abdomen and near his pretty Adonis bone.
He roughly pulls you up and sits down on the couch before dragging you onto his lap. You straddle the sides of his thick thighs, and his big cock presses right next to your pussy, between your legs. Beads of precum drip down the shaft of his cock, and some of it even sticks to your skin. “You want my cock, baby? Well, go ahead, you can have it,” he tells you, resting his hands on your hips.
You exhale nervously, knowing that his cock is gonna stretch you out so much, it’ll be borderline painful and pleasurable. You lift your hips up a bit, and Bucky’s hand grasps the base of his cock. He’s sticky and pulsating, a raging red that is almost purple if you squint your eyes enough. He drags it from your swollen little pearl all the way down to your drooling hole. The mild friction is absolutely amazing, making you moan softly.
Bucky shudders as he slowly pushes the tip of his cock inside of you. He almost wants to tease you so badly, make you beg for it until you’re sobbing and going all ditzy for him. But he’s not all the mean, and he can’t possibly be so cruel to the birthday girl. In one swift motion, Bucky pulls you down onto his cock, burying himself inside of you. You toss your head back and cry out as he stretches you painfully. The wet squelching pounds of your pussy are loud, but your moans are much louder.
He curses and bites down on his bottom lip, falling in love with the way your pussy hugs him tightly and the velvet feeling of your walls. No, no, no, he is not falling in love. He’s just desperate, that’s all. It takes you both a few seconds to adjust, and the painful stretch dulls down to immense pleasure. You struggle to control your breathing, though, because you’ve never taken anyone or anything as big and him. Months of wanting and needing him have finally come down to this, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
He hopes you can feel it because nobody can heal it but you. Every single day he thinks about you, and his heart hurts. His heart hurts when he watches you leave and come home, it hurts when you both fight, and it hurts when he believes you could never love him. His mind still tells him that, and yet here you are, riding his cock on your birthday. He notices the way your bottom lip wobbles a bit, and he pities you.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby, you’re doing so good. Ride my cock, birthday girl, I know you can do it,” Bucky praises with the most innocent smile ever. You nod your head and slowly begin to rock your hips, moving them up and down his cock. Bucky is torn; he doesn’t know whether he should stare at your pretty face or at where you’re both connected. Your slick coats his cock and leaves it glistening, and he watches as it disappears and reappears over and over.
His hand returns back onto your hips, and he gently guides you up and down his cock. Your pained whimpers soon turn to loud, slutty, desperate moans, and Bucky begins to fuck up into your cunt, meeting you at every thrust. “Fuck, yeah, that’s my good girl. Riding my cock so fucking good,” Bucky coos, and you can’t help but giggle. Warmth fills your chest, and pleasure blooms immensely in your core, and it’s the exact same for Bucky.
His balls slap against your ass, and his cock drives in and out of you. You ride him at a quicker pace, moaning loudly, and he nudges against your sweet spot. “You look so fucking sexy riding my cock, baby. Could watch you forever an’ ever,” Bucky purrs, gripping your hips even tighter. Electricity crackles up your spine, almost like a burning wire in a destroyed fuse box. Everything is so sensitive, and the searing pleasure builds up inside the two of you.
Beads of sweat drip down your neck, and it is the same for Bucky. His skin shines just like his cock does, and the veins on the side of it throb with every movement. The wet noises and the sound of skin on skin fills the room almost impressively. The neighbours would’ve already filed noise complaints if they still lived here, but they don’t. So Bucky’ll fuck your brains out until you can’t make a sound.
“Fuck, you’re close, aren’t you? Can feel the way that nice little cunt is squeezin’ my cock,” he groans, staring up at you with his jaw slightly slacked. Your eyes have glazed over, and you stare at Bucky’s face. You ride him using his dick for all your needs and wants. It’s just like you’ve imagined, even down to the pleasure you’re feeling. “Mhm, gonna come all over your big cock,” you whimper at a specific thrust.
And he’s close too. Though the serum should make him last longer, your pussy just defies those rules. He fucks into you faster and rougher, and your legs have turned to jelly. You collapse onto his chest and let him pound your pussy into oblivion. Bucky’s chest rumbles with a chain of moan and curses, and you look up at him. His metal arm is icy cold, just like his eyes. But his orbs are darker than regular ice. They resemble black ice more than anything.
The elastic band in your stomach twists up tightly until it can’t do anything but snap. And so it does. The dam breaks, and you’re suddenly coming around Bucky’s cock. Your cum coats his cock and drips down his balls as your body seizes up. Your jaw falls open, and your eyes roll back while you moan loudly. “Fuck, you look so pretty when you come,” Bucky breathes, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck.
You cry out loudly as Bucky sloppily fucks you through your orgasm and chases his own. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, knock you up with my kids. Fuck, you’d look so hot with a bump, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of your body,” he moans deeply, feeling his balls tighten up. He tosses his head back and curses, hitting his release. Ropes of cum shoot inside your cunt, painting your walls and even leaking out a bit. Somewhere, deep down inside Bucky, he truly hopes it sticks.
He moans loudly as his hips give a few shallow thrusts, prolonging his orgasm. You both sigh, slick with sweat and other bodily fluids that neither of you cares about. “Happy birthday…” Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss on the side of your head. “T- Thank you… How’d you know, though?” you question, even though his cock is still inside you. “Just did… Listen, I’m sorry–” he starts, but you cut him off. “Shh, I don’t care about anything but you, baby,” you tell him, whispering gently.
“Baby, but you.”
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acquainted | b.b
pairing: bucky barnes x reader (based on tfatws)
summary: in which you and bucky don’t like each other very much, not until one afternoon when you two finally decided to get acquainted. (enemies to lovers)
word count: 3.5k
warnings: nsfw, 18+, oral (m receiving), loads of teasing, unprotected sex, bucky making you beg for it, cocky!bucky,
a/n: hello! i am back with another bucky fic because i love him so much, he owns my heart and i absolutely love writing for him! i hope you enjoy this lovelies!
requests are open!
thank you so much for reading love! please like and reblog!
Nine in the morning saw you padding down the hallways of the apartment, sighing as you glanced over to the coffee table, last night’s drinks were still stacked on the wooden table, meaning that he had probably stayed over.
You made your way to the kitchen, the smell of freshly made pancakes wafted through the air, making your mouth water, your stomach grumbling in anticipation as you walked in, not surprised to see Sam at the stove, pouring the batter into the pan.
“Morning sunshine” he greets with an award-winning smile as he turns to you, a grin on his face as he stacks the pancakes one on top of the other.
“Morning Chef” you joke, not being able to stop yourself from laughing with the man standing before you who had donned an Elsa apron which you vaguely remember the neighbour had given him.
“Shut up” Sam grumbled as you doubled over in laughter, clapping your hands as the peals seemed they would not stop anytime soon.
“You can just let it go” you said in a sing song voice, giggling when your best friend shot you a death glare as you mimicked the famous princess, much to his annoyance.
“That’s it, you’re not getting any pancakes”.
“Come on Sam, it was a joke” you protested as he feigned anger, his arms akimbo, the Elsa apron looking a little too small on his frame, you stifled your giggles as you pouted, giving him your infamous puppy dog eyes.
Eyes that you knew Sam could never say no to.
“Please, I’ll do anything” that was partially true because Sam’s pancakes were to die for, literally, especially the chocolate flavoured ones.
“Anything?” Sam questioned, and you nodded confidently, knowing that the worse that could happen was you having dishwashing duties for a week.
“Bucky’s staying over for a few days-“
“No! Come on!”
“Just get along with him, Freaky Magoo’s not that bad”. Sam adds, raising an eyebrow as he picks up the plate of pancakes, tempting you with the treat.
“I’ll just have to take the pancakes away, hey AJ you want pancakes?” he asked, shooting you a grin and you sighed, snatching your plate over.
“Fine, I will try to get along with that ass” you mumbled, rolling your eyes, hating the fact that you had to see him again.
“Ouch doll, didn’t know that was how you thought of me” you groaned at the sound of the oh so familiar voice, grumbling as you turned back, your eyes meeting his cerulean blue ones
Bucky shot you a boyish smirk as he picked up a mug, his metal hard flexing around the handle as he fills it up with steaming hot coffee, his gaze fixated on you as he brought it up to his lips.
“That’s what everyone thinks of you” you retorted, picking up your plate of pancakes, believing that maybe, the treat was worth spending the next few days with the brunette, but the way he stood there, dressed in nothing but that black shirt that seemed just a size too small, easily stretching over his biceps and his sweatpants that hung a little too low on his hips had you thinking of something else entirely, not that you’d admit it.
“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine?” Bucky replied, not missing the glare you threw his way, chuckling when you did.
God, did he love to push your buttons, there was something about the way you flared up that did things to him, pushed him forward, drew him to you like a moth to a flame, god how he wished to just press you face down against the granite countertop and fuck the sass out of you.
His eyes were glued to your figure, the way your nipples pressed against the flimsy tank top made him wonder what it would feel like to bury his face in between your mounds, or how it would feel to have your squirm under him as he eats your sweet cunt, bury his face in that pretty cunt of yours, feel your juices flowing down his chin, hell, all he wanted was to see your pink lips wrapped around his cock, your head bobbing as you choked on it.
The way your shorts showed of the curve of your perfect ass was enough to make Bucky rock hard, he could feel his growing erection press against the front of his pants as his mind filled with thoughts that were far from innocent, and he couldn’t help but allow himself to delve further into it.
“None of your business Barnes” you shot back, crossing your legs as you cut into your pancakes, picking up the maple syrup and pouring it over your breakfast.
The brunette watched as you sipped on your iced water, his eyes following a bead of condensation that fell from the mug on to your chest, rolling down the valley between your breasts, fuck, all he could think was how god damn beautiful your tits were.
You smirked, licking your lips, rolling your shoulders back to accentuate your chest, your white tank top tightening around your mounds, the fabric rubbing against your already taut nipples, making them harder than they already were.
And in that moment, you will never forget the look Bucky had on his face, he has never looked at you like the he was now and you relished in it.
To make matters worse, you suck your index finger into your mouth, finishing up the maple syrup that stained it, letting it with a pop.
“You were saying Bucky?” You ask albeit too innocently, smiling when you finally made the brunette go speechless.
“Nothing doll,” he replied smoothly, watching, his eyes fixed on you as you placed your plate in the sink, walking out of the kitchen with a swagger in your step that kept his gaze occupied on your ass, your hips swaying and all he wished for was to feel his fingers dig into your hips, oh, how that would feel as he was balls deep buried in your heat.
“Staring much?” Sam teased as the brunette groaned, his cock rock hard and painful as he tried to push the obscene thoughts of pounding into you mercilessly out of his head.
The way you had licked your lips made him wonder how good they would look around his cock, it wasn’t his first time imagining that and with you wearing those god damn shorts, it sure as hell wouldn’t be his last.
“Shut up” Bucky grumbled, ignoring his friend’s chuckles, the cup of coffee now forgotten as he made a beeline for his room, pulling off his clothes as he hopped into the shower, the cold water soothing his burning skin, cooling him down.
It was two in the afternoon when you decided that watching a movie would be a great idea to spend the day, after all there wasn’t much that you can do since none of your friends were available to make any plans and even if they were, you were much too comfortable in your Led Zeppelin shirt and shorts to be heading out any time soon.
You turned on Netflix, pressing play on another episode of Friends, your hand digging into your bag of chips as you leaned back onto the cushions.
“Mmhmm” you replied, chuckling when Ross came bursting into apartment. You made the mistake of turning your head to face Bucky, you jaw dropping as your eyes took in the sight before you, your heart thundering in your chest as you struggled to look away.
He was clad in nothing but a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers that literally left nothing to the imagination.
His biceps looked a lot better than you thought they looked, you knew that he pakced muscle but hell, to see them was entirely different, you never even knew that he had abs, you bite your lip as you found yourself staring, well more like ogling at him, he sure had a nice ass, that much you could see.
“You should just take a photo doll, it’ll last you a lot longer” Bucky said, shooting you a grin as he plopped down on the seat beside you, propping his legs up on the coffee table much to your annoyance, he knew you hated it when he did that.
“Of you? No way”. You retorted as you slapped his hand away from your chips, ignoring the fake pout he gave you.
“Get your own” you grumble, as you continued to watch the show, trying to ignore the glances that Bucky shot you, your skin heating up as your heart raced, the feeling of his gaze upon you had you shifting just a little closer.
You looked over to the brunette who had his eyes fixed to the television, your eyes skimming his frame, cursing internally when you did that because you didn’t miss the way the front of his boxers was stretched at the front, and you sure as heck did not miss the way his cock bulged through the fabric, god, he was big, and you couldn’t help but wonder how it’d feel like for him to stretch you out so perfectly
You could feel heat pooling between your legs, your breath hitching in your throat when Bucky casually placed his hand on your bare thigh.
“You alright princess?” He asked with a smirk, almost as if he knew what he was doing to you, and as much as you hated to admit it, your found yourself caving in to his advances.
“Y-yeah” you mumbled as you forced yourself to tear your eyes from him, keeping your focus on the television, shivers running up and down your spine as he slowly but surely slid his hand up higher, his fingertips ever so gently brushing against your skin, you knew just what he was doing and yet he was making you crave the feeling of his touch, to feel him touch you in all the right spots, a part of you wanted so badly to taste Bucky, to feel his lips moving against yours, to see if it was just as you had imagined it to be, if they were as soft as they looked, you wanted to run your fingers through his hair, pull him close as your lips mesh with his, you wanted it all, to feel his carelessly fuck you into oblivion, then filling you up to the brim with his warm cum.
The living room felt as hot as a sauna despite the air conditioner being set on the lowest temperature, the air was thick with tension as you bite your lip, feeling your heart hammering in your chest, your mind spinning with anticipation as Bucky’s metal digits slid up your thigh.
The sounds of the voices on television sounded like white noise as he brushed his fingers at the front of your shorts, you bite down on your bottom lip, stifling a whimper when he pressed the pads of his fingers against your covered cunt, gently rubbing on your bundle of nerves.
“Tell me you don’t want this darling, and I’ll stop” the brunette said softly, your eyes meeting his blue ones, your lips inches away from his soft ones, he leaned forward, everything about him reeling you in, the scent of his cologne and aftershave was addicting, and the thoughts that were swimming in your head urged you to and just like that you give in to him.
“Please” you whimper and in a span of a second, Bucky crashed his lips onto yours savagely, all tongue and teeth as he gripped the back of your neck, pulling you close to him as he deepened the kiss hungrily, his hand sliding underneath your shirt, groaning when he realised you weren’t wearing a bra as the cool of his metal fingers brushes against your tits.
Your body arched into his as he hooked his hands underneath your thighs, hoisting you up with ease as he roughly placed you down above him, your fingers carding through his hair as your tongues intertwined, fighting for dominance, one which he won easily, grinning into the kiss as he cupped your mound, fingers playing with your peak, earning a moan out of you.
The living room was filled with your soft whimpers and Bucky’s ragged breaths. He claimed you with his touch, his fingers digging into your hips as he bruised you with his kiss.
The brunette’s kisses were hurried and forceful as you took his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging it playfully as you rock your hips against his, teasing him, not stopping until. you earn a low groan from the back of his throat, you smirk as he squeezes your waist, his cock twitching in his boxers.
“You sure teasing me is the best way darling?” Bucky asks as you roll your hips against his, god the number of times he had imagined seeing you on flush on top of him was nothing compared to when you were, it sure was a sight to behold.
“I don’t know Bucky, but it sure as hell is fun” you purr as you pepper kisses down his jaw, your hand sliding down to palm him through the elastic fabric as you nuzzle in his neck.
The brunette chuckled, gently hooking a finger under your chin, tilting your face up as your eyes met his lust filled ones. “You gonna that pretty mouth of yours to work?” he growled as he gave your ass a firm squeeze.
“You know I will” you said, a sultry smile on your face as you got off him, getting down on your knees before him as he flattened his palms against the couch and lifting his hips as you pull down his boxers, his cock springing out, standing tall and rock hard, pre cum leaking from it’s swollen tip.
You lick your lips as you wrap your hand around his base, giving him a few pumps, using his pre cum as lubrication as you pumped him in your hand.
“Lost for words princess?” Bucky asked, a cocky smirk on his face.
“Hardly, I’ve had bigger” you said, your eyes meeting his cerulean blue ones that were blown wide with lust, watching as your tongue dampened his cock with your saliva, making it easier for you to pump him in your grip.
“Ffuck,” Bucky growled, the sight before him made him want to do nothing more than to pull you up, rip those shorts off and plough into you, wanting nothing more than to feel your warm, wet pussy engulf his cock.
You gently lick a thick stripe from his base to his tip, tasting his pre cum and peppering kitten licks on his thick length before you slowly took him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his cock.
Bucky watched with bated breath as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock, groaning when you swirled your tongue around his tip.
“Aren’t you just a little slut, begging for my cock” he groans as his fingers knotted in your hair, tugging with enough strength to make you moan as he guided your head up and down his member, laying his head back against the cushion, trying to control his breathing as he stifled his moans, watching with his eyes half lidded as you took him into the depths of your mouth.
Bucky looked so beautiful with his bottom lip held hostage by his teeth and his hips bucking up to meet your warm mouth. His bare ass stuck to the leather of the sofa as your fingertips claw at his thighs as his tip hit the back of your throat, your moan sending sweet vibrations up his shaft.
Bucky was so close that you could taste the bittersweetness of his cum each time your tongue swirled around the tip of his cock.
Pulling out the big guns, you cupped his balls in your hands, massaging them gently, watching as Bucky’s mouth hung open, his grip on your hair tightening as he pushed your head further down his shaft, groaning your name as you basked in every sweet, angelic sound that fell from those lips as he rewarded you with ribbons of cum that you happily swallowed before letting him go.
Bucky didn’t waste any time, pulling you up as his lips devoured yours, his hands circling your waist as he pulled you down into his lap as his lips moved against yours in a feverish kiss, groaning when he tasted himself on your tongue.
In one fluid motion, your shirt hits the floor, your chest heaves and your heart thunders in your chest hard and fast.
Bucky growled as he presses open mouthed kisses to your neck, making you whimper as he stains your skin with purple bruises, his hand cupping your breast as he cages your nipple in between his thumb and index finger, rolling it.
“I-I need you” you whimper as he smirks against your skin, that was all it took for the brunette to flip you on to the couch.
“Hands and knees angel” he growls, making you moan as he smacks your ass, watching as you did as you were told, whimpering when his fingers trail your inner thighs before hooking into the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down, groaning when he saw how sopping wet your pussy was, you were dripping with anticipation as he presses a metal digit against your slick, your hips rolling back against him, the feeling of the cool metal stinging your cunt making you whimper.
“Tell me who’s making you this wet? You just wanna be fucked like the dirty slut you are don’t you?” Bucky growls as he slides his finger to your clit, a low moan escaping your lips as he rubs teasing circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, clearly enjoying the way your body was reacting to his touch, your pussy throbbing in excitement as your body craved for more.
“You, Bucky, please” you whimper, and you hear him chuckle as he replaces his digits with his thick length, pressing his cockhead past your folds as you backed your hips into his, desperate for the brunette to thrust into you. But he only chuckled lowly, continuing to tease your dripping cunt with his dick,
“So, so eager princess, use your words kitten” the brunette said as he slowly pushed his cock past your folds.
“Please Bucky,” you cried out, “please fuck me” you plead, you could practically see the grin on his face as he knotted his fingers in your hair, pulling until your back was against his chest.
“You have no fuckin idea how long I’ve been waiting” he growls, nipping at your ear and without warning, slams into you making you cry out as he stretched you out deliciously, your walls clamping down on his cock almost instantly, making Bucky groan as he pulls out.
“Want to feel you cream around my cock, so fucking tight,” he adds, making you grip the cushions, your fingers digging into the leather as he thrusts back into your heat.
Bucky gripped your hips tightly as you rolled them against his cock, whimpering as pounds into you mercilessly, not caring if his fingertips left bruises on your hips as you cry out in pleasure, back arching as he slams back into you.
“My pretty little slut, so fucking pretty” Bucky growls, his hips snapping as you bite down on your bottom lip, your attempts to stifle your moans failing ever so miserably as you cry, tears brimming around the corner of your eyes as your walls tightened around him.
Bucky tugged at your hair, forcing your head back giving him access as he bites the flesh of your neck, the immense pleasure making you screw your eyes shut as he pushes you to the edge of your orgasm, his thrusts becoming erratic as he encourages you to dive head first into euphoria.
“I’m gunna cum” you moan, your body convulsing as he pulled you close.
“That’s it kitten, cum for me,” Bucky soothes as you cave in, entering a state of nirvana as your walls pulsates around his cock, white spots filling your vision as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, your throbbing walls sending the brunette to his own release, groaning as he spills his seed inside of you, your body still trembling as you came down from high.
Bucky pulls out slowly, setting you down onto the couch, his cum trailing down your inner thigh and onto the leather as he collapses beside you, his arm around you as he rubs soothing circles down your back.
You were about to lay down on his chest when you both heard the familiar jingle of keys, the two of you gathering your clothes before up and running into your bedroom as the apartment door opened, you hurriedly threw Bucky one of his many shirts while you pulled on your own.
“Shit” Bucky curses.
“We didn’t clean the sofa, and I forgot-“
“I swear I’m gonna kill you both, the damn sofa is new!” You wince at Sam’s voice followed by Sarah’s laughter, knowing that they had probably found out about the bonding session you and Bucky had whilst he was gone.
“Wanna make a run to the boat?” you ask, panting lightly as you tossed him a pair of pants.
“Sounds good doll”
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a/n: that’s the end of this fic! i really hope you like it love, and if you did, please, let me know, thank you lovely!
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The Mating Program-B.B.
DON’T STEAL, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY STUFF!!!!
a/n- Please like, comment, and reblog!! It means a lot to me that i know anyone who reads my stuff, likes my work! Don’t be afraid to send me asks as well. I’m not currently taking requests(i’ll occasionally ask for ideas though!), but i’m always open to talk to new ppl:)
Summary: In desperation, you go to the only place you know of where you’re sure you’ll be able to find an alpha- more like set up with one. Little do you know, the one you get isn’t all too fond of the idea, and he pushes you away.
Warnings n stuff: 18+, a little over 13k word count(i promise it’s worth it🥺), beefy!alpha!bucky(he’s not an avenger; he wasn’t the winter soldier), omega!female!reader, bucky has a diff back story to losing his arm, bucky is an oblivious cold hearted asshole, stated age gap, talks of scenting, brief mentions of blood, asshole alphas cat calling n saying nasty things, mutual pining, mentions of having a little appetite, fluff, angst angst angst, smut, unprotected sex, oral(female receiving), face riding, dirty talk, bruising of skin, a bit of dry humping, pet name: kitty/kitten, praising, ass smacking, rough fucking, cumming inside, tiny bit of nipple play(just some pinching), slight choking(?), alludes to more than just one round of sex, female masturbation, talks of knotting, let me know if i missed anything
All mistakes within this fic that you see are my own. i reread over it but i might’ve missed some stuff!
thanks to @likeahorribledream for the inspo for this fic! this is an extremely long fic, and i hope it doesn’t do horribly! i worked my ass off and am so so proud of how it turned out!
i’m currently hosting my first writing event! i extended the deadline as well! here is the link to the rules & prompts!!!
You are tired of it. You’re nearly twenty-five fucking years old and you’ve yet to find a mate- not even a boyfriend. You’re lonely, and your heats are catching up with you in time. They keep getting worse every time you get them, and you struggle to stay up. You didn’t want to have to do this, this has always been your last option because you never have thought that these things would work, but you have no other option. You’re nearly positive that your next heat, can potentially kill you. You don’t want to go out that way. You want to experience love with a mate first hand, so this is your only option.
You step foot into the four story, window-filled building. The color of the exteriors bricks are a cream, and the glass of the clean windows are kind of dark. You look around, then finally spot the lady at the front desk. She’s folding some papers up and then she goes on to write a little bit. Then you’re hit with the stench of Alpha males and some other omegas. Most of the scents that are being combined have your head in a near frenzy. You never thought that so many would be here looking for a mate, but you guess you’re wrong.
“Hello Miss, how may i help you?” The lady calls as she notices you standing at the doorway a bit lost. You softly clear your throat before walking the seven feet to the front desk. “Hi I’m y/n l/n, i would like to see about getting an alpha?” You ask a bit timidly, because you’re not sure how things are supposed to work around here. Fuck, maybe i should’ve done research. “Okay, let me see who’s available to take you in for testing, then i’ll give you a waiting time if there is one.” The lady, who’s name tag says ‘Lorelle’, beings to type at her computer. You watch her eyes skim over some words on the screen then she smiles brightly, “okay so Dr. Romanoff will see you….now!” She smiles even bigger as she types away a bit more at her computer.
Your heart starts to thump a bit faster but the excited and happy look on this woman’s face has you easing down a little. “So, you will be going to floor two. Her room is number 7. Once you exit the elevator, you’ll want to take a left, go down the hall, turn to the right, and you’ll see the door down there. It’s the only door down there.” She hands you some papers and a card before waving you off. You turn back around after telling her ‘thank you’ and you immediately see the elevator.
Once you step into the elevator, you sigh a breath of relief. You can do this, you can do this, you can fucking do this. The bell then dings and the door opens. You push yourself off of the wall and exit. Left, down a bit, right, seven. You do exactly as the lady had said, and within less than thirty seconds, you’re at the big door.
Your fingers curl into a fist and knock on the dark, wooden door. A woman speaks a clear ‘come in’ and you do as she says. With a tight grip on your papers that the front lady- Lorelle, gave to you, you enter. “Hi! I’m Dr. Romanoff, nice to meet you y/n! I got the memo you were coming in. Can i see those right quick?” She motions towards the papers in your hands and you let her retrieve them. “Thank you, you can have a seat right over there.” She then motions for the seat behind a small desk, and your eyes can’t help but scan over the room. Some test tubes, book shelves, papers upon papers. And your nose detects that she is indeed, and Alpha female. You walk over and sit in the comfy chair behind the small desk, your eyes then focus back on her.
“Okay so, we’re going to have to run a few tests first. This is what the papers are for. I’m going to ask you some questions, get to know you a bit so it’s easier for me to find you an alpha! I won’t pry too much into your personal life, but it will be necessary that you give me some information to help with the accuracy.” She gives you a bright smile as she speaks, and you nod at her information. “The tests i’ll be conducting on you today will consist of a blood test, and an overall health check up. You’re okay with this?” You give her a nod, “yes, i’m fine with it.” Dr. Romanoff smiles in return, “good! Okay, so we can get started with the questions first. We have quite a few, and they’re usually the more lengthy part of the whole session.”
You watch her as she flips a few pages over, then she begins to ask for your full name, your birth date, age, height, weight, if you have any siblings or family alive, if you have a license. The questions then get more in depth and start asking things like ‘if someone were to hurt you in any shape or form, would you want your alpha to comfort you, go after them, or both?’. Some of the questions are a bit weird, or a bit too detailed for your liking, but if this is what you have to do in order to get an alpha- so be it.
“You did great! I’m so glad i can help you with this, i’ve been successful and have been doing this for twelve years now, and i love my job! So don’t think that i’m just here to throw you on an alpha and go. I’ll give you a call in a few days to let you know who your alpha is. From there, he’ll be notified at the same time, and you’ll have to move in with him- or he’ll move in with you. The contract states that you two must remain together until your next heat, and if you two don’t see it working out, then that’s okay! You can come to me, we’ll get rid of the contract after that next heat you have, and it’ll be history!” You smile at the red head sitting in front of you, “thank you. I’ll be expecting the call!” You reply before you head out of her office.
For the next few days, you go on as normal. You know your heat won’t be arriving for another month or two since you just had one not but around a week or so ago. So you’re glad you decided to do the alpha hunt during your ‘resting’ period. You hope this all works out, but today is day four and it’s past one p.m. and no call has come through from Dr. Romanoff. You’re beginning to get a bit worried. What if she hadn’t been able to find you an alpha?
Just as if on cue, your cell phone rings. You dry your hands from the dish water you’re currently in, and rush to your phone that rests on the counter. It’s an unknown number, so you pick up. “Hello?” “Is this y/n?” You smile, “yes, yes it is.” “Hey, this is Dr. Romanoff, i’m calling to inform you that we have found you an alpha male. We are having a bit of trouble with him though. He wants to meet you here at around three. Is that alright?” Your heart beats rapidly but you can’t bring yourself to come down from the nerves. “Uh yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be there. Meet in your room?” Your fingers tap anxiously on the counter as you await her answer.
“Yes! That’s perfect! See you at three, y/n!” You reply with a quick ‘see you then, thank you’ before she hangs up. You’re nervous more than ever now. Why doesn’t he want to meet up together somewhere? Has he changed his mind and no longer wants an omega?
The more you stand and ponder, the more worried and overly anxious you get. You decide that you need to take a quick shower and change before you go. You want to be a bit presentable for your new alpha when you meet him. First impressions are everything, especially when you don’t even know the person.
When you turn down the short hallway, you’re met with Dr. Romanoff’s door, but also the smell of an alpha male. His scent is a bit sweet but there’s something darker- sort of like a dark smell that resembles night skies-, but it’s comforting you in a way you’ve never really been comforted before, and you can’t help but let the scent ease your jittery nerves.
He smells you too, and he smells your nerves. You smell no sort of nervousness on him, only a calm demeanor. “You can come on in!” You hear Dr. Romanoff shout through the door, and before you have any second thoughts, you’re in the room. “Y/n, this is Bucky, Bucky this is y/n. This is your alpha, and this is your omega.” Dr. Romanoff smiles widely as she watches the two of you eye each other. She’s had a few bad experiences with alpha’s and omega’s before, but she’s known Bucky through a few friends for a couple of years now, he’s not got an aggressive bone in his body towards any sort of woman- only ever does he lash out on other alpha males who don’t know how to keep their eyes or their hands to themselves.
Bucky’s eyes scan over you, and your nerves come back again. He can tell. His eyes are pretty though. They’re a crystal blue, and….well, his whole face is pretty. He’s very pretty. Light stubble covers the lower half of his face, a chiseled jaw, mountains of muscle, near-about shoulder length hair, and once he stands- he towers over you. He’s at least six-foot-five, if not a few inches more. “I don’t know about this, Natasha.” Bucky stoically says. You can see Dr. Romanoff rub her hand over her face. “Barnes, if you don’t give her a chance…you always do this!” “Because they’re never for me! Not my fault Steve and Sam bugged me- forced me!- into doing this stupid program.” He rumbles out, and your eyes divert to Dr. Romanoff. You watch her and hear her sigh, she’s clearly frustrated. “You know the fucking rules, Barnes. You have to stay with her until her next heat ends. That’s the contract.”
“Never said i wouldn’t, but don’t think i’ll be falling all over her this time either. Come on, need to get you home.” He huffs out as he shoves his hands in his coat pockets. You catch a glimmer of black and gold metal before he shoves his left hand in, you wonder what that’s about. “Home as in-.” “My place. Gotta go by yours to get you some stuff though.” His voice is gruff and he sounds a bit agitated. You just hope he’ll loosen up a bit as the week goes on. You don’t notice the smile Dr. Romanoff gives the two of you as you meekly follow Bucky out of her office.
“Wow, this is nice.” You mutter before the door shuts behind you. His place is a bit simple. Not a lot of pictures on the wall, but enough of his friends- you assume- that you know he lives a normal life. He’s got a nice black couch that’s big enough to seat three people- two alphas at best and four omegas at separate times. There’s a reclining chair on the other side of the couch that seems to be matching with the couch, and it’s separated from the couch by a small, glass table that has a lamp on it. The lamps’ base is a waterfall surrounded by rocks- it’s a dark, charcoal color. The shade of the lamp is a dark purple. There looks to be a fifty inch tv on an oak tv stand, and there’s another chair- one that doesn’t recline but looks comfy and it’s big enough for you to curl up in- on the other side of the couch. It’s also black, but it seems to be of a more expensive material.
The rug that hugs the pale, wooden floor is a burgundy color- maybe more of a wine red. It looks soft and you almost want to curl up on it until your eyes rake across to the comfy chair that sits in front of the fire place in a different space. The bricks of the fire place are a grey stone and the chair has two fluffy blankets on it- they look hand made. The walls of the sitting space are a deep blue, and you get a peek into the kitchen where the walls are a creamy-white. “You done lookin’?” His voice breaks you from your trance and you nod, “yeah sorry, it’s just- it’s really nice. Simple but nice.” You give him a small smile and he nods with straight lips. “I’ll put your stuff in the spare room, don’t worry, it’s clean in there. Oh, your apartment-.” “It’s taken care of. The program takes care of that too, ya know?” You give him a light chuckle, but all you get in return is a small nod as he turns around and heads down the nearest hallway.
You straggle behind with a bag on each of your shoulders and soon meet up with him in the room he just turned into. It’s a decent sized room and there’s a bathroom right across the hall. The walls are a lilac-grey color and there’s furniture already in the room. A dresser, a tv with a stand, a small vanity, a rug, and a queen sized bed fully sheeted and everything. There’s a small closet in the corner but it’ll do, especially since there’s a big dresser in the room as well. There’s a small bedside table with a lamp, and there’s two windows on each side of the bed. It’s pretty, simple, and subtle. “This is your room. Your space. You’ll be staying in here.” He plops your other three bags, he has been carrying, down onto the bed and you do the same.
“I’m allowed throughout the house, right?” You’ve heard of alphas liking house wives and obedient omegas, so you’re not sure what all to expect with Bucky. “Yeah, i don’t care. Just don’t snoop, ya know? Help yourself to food, i guess we’ll take turns with cooking if you know how?” You give him a nod, “yea, i know how.” “Okay, we’ll take turns then and uh, just keep your space clean, don’t bug me too much, and i won’t ask much more out of ya.” He shrugs before he heads towards the room door. Before he exits, he stops, “oh, y/n?” You turn around and face him, “yes, Bucky?” “Don’t expect too much out of this whole thing.” Then he’s out of your room.
He leaves you standing in your new room, bags to unpack and thoughts whirling around in your head. This most certainly isn’t how you expected this whole thing to start off. But you know it could be way worse than what it is. You’ll just have to be positive, right?
You could’ve swore that by the end of the week Bucky would’ve been a bit looser than he was five days ago. You two avoid each other it seems at every cost, and almost only eat dinner together. You’ve even asked him to cuddle a few times, but he only asks “is your heat near” you tell him no, that it won’t come for another month-ish or so, and he shrugs you off. He’s not mean or rude, but he is cold. Bucky Barnes is cold. At dinner times, you have managed to get some information out of him about his life which is helpful, so you’ve also informed him about yourself.
You’ve asked about his friends, his closest being Steve and Sam- who pushed him into do the mating program- and he’s known Dr. Romanoff(aka. Natasha) for around two and a half years now thanks to Steve and another friend of there’s- Wanda. Natasha and Steve have been dating for around six months and counting. Bucky also told you about his prosthetic arm. You didn’t have to ask about it, he just knew you would eventually so he went on and told the truth. “I got into an accident. Steve and i were driving over a bridge. Steve got flung out of the car, and i lost my arm due to a piece of debris that flew through the windshield and into the car. It was a ten car pile up.” You left it at that after you gave him your sympathy. He just shrugged it off as he continued to eat. He said it had been around ten years since it had happened. But that was all he told you.
You found out his favorite color, and his favorite meals, his favorite games to play, and how he met some of his friends. He even told you his favorite pizza toppings. But you were sure he’d be opened up more by now.
But he’s not.
He still is avoiding you, won’t even hold your hand, and he will hardly speak unless he has too. It’s aggravating and stressful. You want so much to do with Bucky. So much in fact that you’ve even gone as far as telling him that he’s made you feel extremely at-home here in his house, and how his scent keeps you calm and makes you feel warm and tingly inside- so he gave you a dark blue sweater that he wore for like a day straight. That’s it.
You’re in the kitchen cooking when you hear the door open. Your ears pick up the sound of laughter, and you know it’s not Bucky’s, but then you hear his laugh shortly after. “So where’s the lady at? I wanna meet her!” A man asks kind of excitedly, and your heart warms up. Someone wants to meet me? “Yeah, ‘bout time you pick up the phone again when they call you. Natasha thinks it’s gonna work out this time.” You hear another man say, and your heart beats faster. You carefully turn the burner down to low and stir your dish before wiping your hands off on the kitchen towel. You then hurriedly walk into the living room.
Your eyes immediately land on Bucky, then your gaze shifts to the two other tall men who look to be around Bucky’s age- 39. “This her?” One of the men ask, and he walks over a bit towards you. They’re both alpha’s, you can tell that, and you notice them both from the pictures on the walls. Maybe he is Sam?
“Hi, honey, i’m Sam. I’m one of Buck’s close friends.” His hand reaches out to you and you shake it, your face heating up at the term he uses towards you. “Hi, i’m y/n. Nice to meet you, Sam.” You hear Bucky let out a low scoff before he turns on the tv. Sam is unmated. You can sense this.
“I’m Steve, Bucky’s childhood friend. We go way back, of course.” Steve steps up and shakes your hand this time, and you know that this is Natasha’s boyfriend once you’re told his name. “Hi, nice to meet both of you.” You give them a small smile, and immediately they smile back. Their energy gives you a sense of ease and you know automatically that you’ll be able to feel comfortable around them whenever they come around.
Bucky can’t help but glare as the three of you make small talk. Yet, Steve is the only one who catches it. He can read his friend like a damn book, and Steve can already tell that Bucky is hiding his little bit of feelings towards you. But he won’t intervene, it’s not his place.
It’s the same routine every night. You both eat dinner, watch some tv, you go your separate ways. He showers first, then you shower, and then it’s off to bed. The past week you’ve been clinging to his sweater. The warm, dark scent of him is nearly gone and you know you’ll have to ask for another article of clothing tomorrow. For some reason, tonight you can’t sleep, and the clock just hit 2am. You’re restless. You’re either too cool or too warm but also, your mind won’t let you shut your eyes and drift off to dream land. It sucks.
You get out of bed and pull on Bucky’s sweater. You usually don’t wear any shorts to sleep and just a tank top with some panties, so his sweater is long enough to cover you to your bare thighs, that way you’re not walking around his house nearly naked- you’re nearly sure he’d freak. You just want a little “bed time” snack and some water, then you’ll come back to bed. You slowly creep the door open, and exit your room. You walk as quietly as you can to the kitchen, then you turn on the light.
You first grab a cold bottle of water and sit it out on the kitchen counter before searching the pantry. Bucky does the grocery shopping, and luckily he let you make him a list of things you like to eat and cook. He’s not the worst alpha, but he’s cold.
You decide, after looking through the pantry ten times, on grabbing a brownie. You pull one out of the box and then carefully shut the pantry door back. As you go to turn around to head to your water bottle, you bump into something- or someone.
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” You mumble as you take a few steps back, your ass hitting the door knob on the pantry door. He stares down at you, then his eyes roam over your body. “Hungry? Couldn’t sleep?” His voice is groggy and filled with a roughness that means he’s not spoken in quite some time.
But you like it.
“Yeah, sorry if i woke you. Just couldn’t concentrate on sleeping.” You shrug before you walk around him, then you grab your bottle of water that now has a bit of condensation on the outside of it. “You didn’t wake me, been lyin’ awake, too.” You nod, then quickly bid him another goodnight just as you did earlier.
Bucky watches as you scurry off, bottle of water and snack in hand. He can’t help the small smile that tugs on the corner of his mouth at the sight of you wearing his favorite sweater- you look….cute.
The truth is, he’s not particularly the fondest of you. He didn’t want to sign up for the mating program seven months ago when his two best friends made him do it. He’s had four omegas assigned to him, you’re the fourth one. The three omegas before you, got tired of trying and shredded the contract up as soon as their heat ended. Well, one lied and shredded it up before her heat was even over. Bucky never felt the way he does with you with the other omegas. Something is different about you. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been wanting an omega to mate and treat right for a while now. And he doesn’t want to admit that your scent, and just you in general, provides some kind of home-y feeling for him. Bucky just isn’t sure if you’re what he wants yet. He’s not sure if you’re it. He’s pretty sure this is all just his alpha talking.
“Bucky? I hate to bother you….” your words trail off as you wander into the living room, holding up his sweater you’ve been wearing the previous nights. His eyes leave the tv and stare at you. He looks a little tired- probably still couldn’t sleep after the run in to each other last night in the kitchen- but he manages to give you a tight lip smile before speaking to you. “What’s wrong?” His eyes roam over to his sweater that’s in your hand, and he watches you look down to the floor. “I was wondering if i could get another? This one doesn’t smell like you anymore.” You’re a bit embarrassed to admit such vulnerable information to your alpha who barely talks to you, let alone doesn’t even touch you, but it’s pretty much the only way you can sleep at night anymore now that you’ve moved in with him and he won’t sleep in the same bed as you. “Yeah, i’ll get you another tonight. Put that one on my bed, but don’t snoop.” He gives you a stern expression on his last few words, and you nod.
Once you get into his room, you eagerly place the sweater on his bed. God, his scent is everywhere in here and you just want to wallow in his bed- but you can’t. He’ll probably get mad that your scent is all over his things and then he’ll have to wash it all and just- no.
So instead, you control yourself and leave his room immediately, shutting the door behind you like it had been before you’d opened it and entered moments ago.
Later in the night, before you find yourself about to get a shower, Bucky knocks on your door. “Here, this is all i got right now.” He tosses you the slightly worn out shirt before closing the door back, and heading back to his room. You hear his door close, then you lock yours. The scent of the shirt is intoxicating. You’re not sure how you’re going to live without Bucky’s scent when this is all over with. You just know that he’ll move you back into your place after your next heat. You just know that he’ll never warm up to you. It’s just been a week, and there’s hardly any progress being made.
After your shower, you tug the shirt on, and notice there’s a few holes in the black material of it. You smile at the warmth it provides you before cuddling into your bed. You’re finally able to sleep, and it doesn’t take you long, as you dream of being able to finally cuddle up to Bucky- his hand holding yours, and his lips pressed to your skin.
Bucky on the other hand, is driving his own self crazy. He forgot to wash the sweater you’d been sleeping in, or around, for the past week and it’s sitting in his laundry basket in the corner of his room. Your scent is swirling around his room and making it hard for his inner alpha to sleep- let alone concentrate on sleeping. “Maybe if i stop breathing then i’ll be able to sleep,” He huffs out with a roll of his eyes, and a he rolls onto his back- staring up at the blank ceiling. “She needs to hurry up and leave.” Bucky mumbles, before closing his eyes and trying to drift off.
Once he does fall asleep, he dreams of nothing. He can’t even remember the last time he has dreamed…
“Bucky, i made you your favorite pie.” You smile brightly as you place the small, round plate down in front of him on the table. You then hand him a napkin and a fork with a bottle of water. You continue to smile even when he looks up at you, even though you want to quit trying your best efforts in getting him to love you- or at least like you. “Thanks, been awhile since i’ve had this.” He immediately digs into the pie, and once you see that he’s not going to shame you for how bad it tastes, you’re scurrying back into the kitchen.
You’ve always been told how good alphas- mates- will cherish and praise you for your work. Whether that be baking, cooking, cleaning, during sex, on an assignment, at work, anything. Your mother told you that, and she said to never settle for less. Yet, here Bucky is, muttering a few ‘thank you’s’ here n’ there for all you’ve done over the past week.
It’s been two weeks currently since you’ve moved in, and you’ve tried everything in your best power to get Bucky to hold your hand, cuddle with you on the couch, scent you, or cook with you at least. Hell, even sitting a less space further apart on the couch would be a good step forward, but you’ve had no luck. It’s like he just doesn’t care a single bit about you, and you’re beginning to worry how he’ll actually act once you’re on your heat- which is something that you’ll need his help with, something that you’ll have to count and rely on him to help you with.
You’re fucking worried but also, you’re scared and you’re disappointed. You thought that maybe he’d be less stoic, less cold by now, but he’s not. It’s the same old routines as the first week, and it’s the same small touches. Accidental brushes of fingers, bump ins late at night, and knees that touch under the dinner table. He still gives you a sweater or a shirt, but that’s it.
What you don’t know, is Bucky is conflicted. He sleeps with the used sweater that you gave back to him. It has your scent all over it, and it helps him his alpha sleep better. He purposely runs into you at night in the kitchen, and the accidental touches have his inner alpha needing more. But him?
He’s still not sure.
You know your heat will probably hit within the next three weeks or so. It’s been three weeks that you’ve been here now, and things are still remotely the same. Except for when Bucky finds you asleep on the couch some days after he returns home from work or the store, and he wraps you up. As long as you don’t see or feel him being affectionate, he has nothing to worry about. He’s still confused as ever, he still needs more time, but he’s sure it’s just his inner alpha causing the dilemma in his head.
But a part of him wants to just bury his face in your neck and hold you close when he sees you asleep like that. It’s my inner alpha, is what he tells himself. It’s got to be.
“Hey, i need you to do me a favor tomorrow.” Bucky speaks up after he swallows a bite of his food. You halt your movements and look up at him. “Yeah?” He messes with his food on his fork, then finally looks up at you. “Can you go to the store for me? I won’t be home until later, and i’ll be tired seeing as tomorrow is a rough day. I know you’ve not been out much because you’re alway tryna do stuff around here. Go out and get some groceries, buy you something. I’ll leave my card here.” He mumbles before he takes another bite of his food.
He trusts me enough to use his debit card? Well, there’s at least trust in this…..relationship(?).
“Okay, i’d love to get out. What time will you be home?” You begin back at cutting your chicken, which gives him time to answer. “After five, don’t worry about dinner. I’ll pick something up for the two of us. You just worry about groceries.”
So that was the plan. You go to the store, get groceries, buy something you want, come back home. It’s a ten minute walk to the nearest shopping center- which consists of clothing stores, two grocery stores, and such. You stopped by a clothing store and bought a new pair of sweats and a new dress, then you went to the grocery store. You bought the few groceries you needed, then started your walk back home. Luckily, you two didn’t need much, which was probably why Bucky allowed you to go- considering you had to walk. But if only he’d known that some pesky alphas would be tailing you the whole time, maybe he’d have rethought things. Maybe he would’ve gone, or maybe he would’ve went with you when he got home. Who knows?
“She’d make a good one, wouldn’t she?” One of the men mutter behind you. No matter how fast you try to walk, they just don’t seem to get away from you. And you can only go but so fast with these stupid groceries in your arms. “Yeah, nice and round with my baby….be a good little house wife.” The second alpha sounds more sinister, and you’re so so fucking glad that you’re two doors down from Bucky’s house right now.
You manage to glance at your watch, and read that it’s 5:27pm. He should be home, he should be home- HIS CAR! You fill with relief once you see that Bucky’s car is indeed home in the driveway, and your steps get even faster. “Oh, don’t run little omega. Come on, pretty thing.” The more sinister man says, and you bolt up the brick stairs.
With both of your arms full and not being able to move your hands, you kick the door with your foot.
You’re scared because you can feel the men getting closer to you, and you know they’ll pounce at any second. You kick the door again, a bit harder, and finally Bucky swings the door open. “Why didn’t you-.” His words stop once he hears the loud beating of your heart, something he’s not heard since you first met him, since you met Sam and Steve, or since you made him his first meal as you waited patiently beside him to see his reaction. He doesn’t like this reason though, and his inner alpha loses it.
He sees the two sleazy men behind you, and in a heart beat, he has you behind him and in his house. Not that he needs to stand up straighter, but he does, and he’s immediately a couple of inches taller which has the younger and shorter alphas below his stairs cowering. “You didn’t touch her, did you? Because if you fucking did…” Bucky’s words stop as his left hand raises. His lips are turnt upwards into a near snarl-like gesture and the two alphas stumble back. “We didn’t know-.” “You don’t do any lady like that. Mated or not, dating or not. Get the fuck away from my god damn house!” His voice roars loud enough that you’re sure several neighboring houses can hear him, but Bucky doesn’t care. The two younger alphas run off in the direction they came from, and after Bucky watches them disappear, he’s slamming the door and taking the groceries from your arms.
“You okay?” He refrains himself from hugging you, holding you, comforting you. Because he’s scared that he’ll cave in if he does, and he’s still utterly confused. He’s still cold. “Yeah, thanks.” You mumble before you follow him to the kitchen to help him put the things away. “They didn’t touch you, right?” It’s not that Bucky isn’t a caring person, but knowing that he does care about you in some form, warms you up a bit. But it’s still not how things should be by now. “No, i’m okay.”
Bucky turns to you as he watches you unpack a bag of groceries, then his eyes go over to the one that is from a different store. “Uh, what did you get?” He himself then begins to unpack a grocery bag to help you. “Oh, some new sweat pants and a uh….a dress. Just incase i go out, or we might. I don’t know.” You mumble your last three words, and Bucky can sense your emotions change from one of timid-ness to something of disappointment and sadness. “Oh, that’s nice. Uh, got my card?”
You hand it over to him once you pull it out of your pocket, and he thanks you. “Yeah, no problem. Thanks for the clothes.”
You can feel it. You can feel it coming.
And oh are you fucking nervous, scared, worried, and upset. You can’t help the few tears that soak into your skin as you sniffle. You just want him to like you. Why doesn’t he like you? Why can’t he just- why is he so cold?
Your heat is coming, and it’s going to be bad. You’re going to need Bucky more than you have this entire near month and a half of living with him, and you’re worried. Will he still be cold and do just the bare minimum for me? Will he not care at all and just leave me to suffer? He wouldn’t do that, right??
A soft knock comes from your door, and your head snaps up. “Yeah?” Your voice sounds horrible where you’ve not talked in a few hours. Why would he talk to you anyways? Not like he needs- or wants- to. The door then pops open and Bucky sticks his head in. Once his eyes meet yours in the dim lit room, he feels his heart ache a little. Why?
“Hey, you okay?” His eyes soften a bit and you nod your head, “yeah, just uh tired. Haven’t been sleeping all that well.” You let out a soft chuckle and Bucky nods, diverting his eyes to the floor then back to you. “Okay, well i came to say goodnight. Try and rest some.” And with that, he closes the door and he’s gone; just as fast as he came.
As Bucky walks back to his room, which is only a couple of doors down from yours, he can’t help but feel a little upset that you lied to him. He knows you’ve been getting perfect sleep at night, he’ll often go in and check on you- his inner alpha and all making him. He’s seen you sound asleep, and he knows that you are. He can tell by your breathing. So why did you lie, and what is the truth?
The pain hits suddenly when you’re cooking dinner two nights later. The spoon falls from your hand and onto the floor along with you when a pain shoots through your lower abdomen. Bucky isn’t home right now, he’s still working, and he said he might stop by the bar to grab a drink or two before heading home. And here it starts. The lonely journey that shouldn’t be, well, lonely. You manage to pull yourself up by the stove handle, and brace yourself. It’s not even fully started yet and you’re already crippling over in pain.
Thankfully the food is done, but you suddenly don’t have an appetite anymore, and you were only making it for you since Bucky is to eat at the bar. This usually happens with you on your heat, though. Your appetite becomes little until your other needs are satisfied. Usually you don’t eat much because you never do get your needs met, but you’re used to it by now.
Another pain shoots through your abdomen and you whine while clutching the counter top. You slowly lean forward and place your head on the cool counter top. You let out a shaky breath as you try to focus on anything but the pain, but it’s hard.
After a minute or two, you manage to take the pan off of the stove and turn it off. You then sluggishly walk over to the couch and plop down onto it. You curl up, not wanting to move, and then it hits you. The thoughts of how good Bucky can take care of you, how good he’d feel on you- in you. How you wish he were here right now, you’d be pounced onto him in a heart beat, grinding your hips into his. The feeling of his cock is probably other worldly.
But would he help? You don’t care, your inner omega is needy- you’re needy- and you need Bucky. You need him now.
If I text him will he answer? It’s worth a shot.
Then you remember that your phone is charging on the other side of the room. “Fuck!” You curse loudly, your voice a bit weak and it cracks a little. You contemplate on getting up, but would it be worth the pain and effort? Would Bucky, the alpha- “your alpha”- come to your rescue in your time of need, when he’s been so cold and bitter towards you this entire time?
You make up your mind and gently roll off of the couch. You dodge the coffee table and crawl over to the small desk that sits near the hallway entrance. Once you reach it, you yank your phone cord and your phone flies into your hands. You then hurriedly, with a little struggle, open your phone up to your text messages.
You’ve not had to text Bucky much, but it’s usually been about dinner or work related things. The occasional text from him asking if you’re okay or if you need anything, but that shit is rare. You shakily type the message- you’re nervous. What if he just doesn’t care? What if he stays out longer just to make you suffer?
You soon manage to type- need you home now please, it’s urgent.
But you don’t send it. You stare at it for a minute, thinking. Your mind sends you into a frenzy, and you clear out the message. He won’t come. He won’t care.
You stuff your phone into the back pocket of your jeans, and pick yourself up the best way you can.
He won’t want to help me. It would just be a fucking chore to him. I would be a chore. I am a chore to him.
You place a hand on your tummy as you sluggishly walk to the kitchen, the cramps and pains getting even worse. You know medicine won’t help, so you don’t bother to look for any. You just get a container out and place the food in it.
After the food is in the dish, you snap the lid on and rinse out the pan. You’re not bothering with washing it. You’ll do it later, maybe…you’re not sure if you’ll even be able to get out of bed later. You then grab one of the purple sticky notes that Bucky has laying on the counter, and a pen. You write- cooked too much food, so if you’re hungry you can eat it. Then you stick the note onto the container that you’re leaving on the kitchen counter for him to find.
With the last bit of energy you have left, you walk to your room. You know it’s only around 5:30pm, and Bucky won’t be home for another hour or so. After all, he does have the day off tomorrow and he probably wants to spend it with his friends and not you. You’re not going to bother him, he wouldn’t care anyways. You just ease into your room, shut and lock the door, before collapsing onto your unmade bed. You don’t even feel like peeling out of your jeans or clothes even though you’re a bit warm, and the horniness is kicking in, you’re just so weak from not eating.
You hate your heats.
You manage to flip over and pull your phone out of your pocket. You then lay it on your beside table with a slightly loud thud. You lay still for a few minutes, only focusing on breathing and trying not to focus on the ache and burn in between your legs- the thing that won’t go away without someone else’s help.
Another sharp pain bursts through you and you whine loudly, curling up into a ball in your soft bed. The covers and sheets are too soft. You hate it. The one thing you don’t hate right now, is Bucky’s shirt that he gave you two nights ago. It still smells like him, and when you finally get your hands on it, you’re shredding your own clothes off.
Chest heaving, slightly sweaty skin, and with an ache in your core, you place his shirt over your body- not on you, just laying on top of you. It’s close enough that you can get full whiffs of his scent each time you inhale, and it brings you a bit of ease.
Your fingers wander down, down, down until they get to your soaked cunt. Maybe i can just relieve a bit of the ache like this. You hope you can anyways.
You legs spread a bit and then your fingers begin to play with your clit. Your back arches slightly and your mouth drops open as you cling on to his shirt in you hand that lays on top of your hot body. You’re so sensitive already, and you can’t help but let your mind wander to thoughts of Bucky- your alpha.
How he’d fill you full for the days during your heat, maybe even if you’re lucky he’d give you his knot. Your fingers work faster and faster, a steady pressure is then applied to your clit as you play with your swollen pearl. You can’t help the low cries that escape your lips, and a low whine of “Bucky” passes them as well.
You know this isn’t going to help all that much, but maybe you’ll be able to sleep a little after you orgasm. Your fingers aren’t as good as Bucky’s cock would be, but it’ll have to do.
Your legs begin to close as you work yourself closer to your orgasm. Your other hand is clutching your boob through the material of his shirt. You’re nearly there, nearly there. Just a little bit more and you’ll cum.
You pinch your nipple and with a cry of Bucky’s name, you cum. The pain throughout your lower abdomen and the ache in your core soothes a bit. You know it won’t last long before you’ll have to orgasm again, but you plan to sleep until that time comes.
You bring your tired hand up and rest it on your covered tummy- your juices getting on his shirt. Bucky is sure that he wouldn’t complain about it, if only he knew what you just did.
Before you know, you’re fast asleep. The hard orgasm you had moments prior to has knocked you out, and with you being weak from the lack of food already, it has caused you to drift off to sleep rather quickly.
Bucky isn’t planning to come home until around ten. He’s having a night out with his friends, but he’s not planning on getting drunk. He thinks since you’ve not messaged him that you’re fine, that if you needed him or if you wanted him back, you’d text him. He’s wrong. He- his inner alpha- only hopes that you’ll text or call him. Just his inner alpha, not him.
“You’re sure you’re not falling for this girl?” Sam inquires once more before Bucky finally glares at his friend. “I’m not.” He then takes another swig of his beer and the food is brought to their table. “There you guys go. Enjoy.” The girl sends Bucky a wink, but he can’t help but to only feel slight disgust at what she did. Why?
“Hey, look, let’s just enjoy our food and quit talking about problems.” Tony says before he starts chowing down. Bucky then lightly slams down his beer bottle, “she’s not a problem.” Sam looks at Steve and Steve looks at Natasha. Natasha tries her best to maintain her smirk. “Okay, so she’s not a problem. Let’s stop talking about….mates then.” Tony corrects himself with a smart attitude before digging back into his food.
Bucky doesn’t deny what Tony says, he doesn’t raise his voice again, he just huffs and takes another sip of his beer. “You do nice work, Natasha.” Sam says with a smile, and Bucky just glares at him again. “Stop it.” “Stop what? Just talking about the mating program, not anything in particular.” Sam quickly hides his smile before he takes a bite of his food, and Wanda light snickers. “Yeah, her work is nice isn’t it?” Steve smirks as he wraps an arm around Natasha, Bucky only rolls his eyes.
If this is how the night is going to go, then he might be leaving early.
“Y/n? I’m home.” Bucky says a little quietly when he walks through the door- seeing as it’s nearing 10:30pm and he did not come home early. He soon notices that the kitchen light is still on, that the waterfall lamp is still on, and your phone cord is plugged into the wall in the living room. He shuts the door as he takes a look around some more, then he locks it.
He shrugs off his coat and tosses it over the back of his couch, his boots come off next and he kicks them near the door. “Y/n?” Bucky hums out as he makes his way into the kitchen. He sees the container sitting on the counter and he walks over to it. He reads the note- cooked too much, so if you’re hungry you can eat it. His brows furrow as he takes off the note and rolls it up, soon tossing it into the trash. He picks the container up and looks inside of it.
He sees that you made his favorite pasta, and he smiles without really paying his action much attention. He then snaps the lid back onto the container, double checks that it’s secure, and then places the food in the fridge for tomorrow- I’ll eat it for lunch, he thinks.
He remembers that there are dishes in the sink, so he quickly walks over and heads to check the dishwasher. He knows you hardly ever use it because you rather wash things mostly by hand- as you told him weeks ago-, so he knows that it’s empty before he even opens it. When he opens it, he is indeed met with an empty dishwasher.
He takes it upon himself to then load it up, and once he’s done with that, he places in some detergent, then starts it. He begins cleaning up the sink, and suddenly finds it in himself that it’s a bit weird how you didn’t clean up the little mess you made- because you usually do-, but he’s not upset about it.
How can i ever be upset at you- that’s the alpha speaking here- he thinks.
After he cleans up the sink, he double checks the dishwasher, then he turns off the lights. He decides to leave the lamp on in the living room incase he comes back in here or you stumble into the kitchen later for a snack, and walks over to the hallway. With a small head tilt, he looks down the hall and he sees that there’s only a small light coming from within it.
His eye brows furrow, and he starts to walk towards your door. Once he gets half way down the hall, something hits him. He inhales a deep breath and his face changes into panic. You’re in pain.
Who hurt her? What happened? Is she okay? God, what if she’s dead?!
It’s all the alpha speaking.
He then paces towards the door and finds it locked. Maybe you locked it because you were home alone during the night? Bucky usually doesn’t leave you home alone at night, so maybe you were just scared? No, but you’re hurt.
“Y/n!?” Bucky’s voice is loud through the door, and you whine. You knew he had entered the house about twenty minutes ago, you just weren’t sure where he went or what he has been doing the whole time. But right now, as soon as you hear him outside of your door, it takes everything in you not to go and unlock it. “Y/n? Are you hurt?” He’s so dumb, you think. “No…” it comes out as a whine, and Bucky knows that something is wrong.
“Fuck….” he mutters under his breath. “Let me in!” He sounds panicked, why is he panicking?
“I’m okay, i’m fine.” You mumble loud enough for him to hear, but then another pain shoots through your tummy. “Fuck….” you whimper and then the door is busted down and in comes a panicked Bucky. His eyes finally find you on your bed, clad in nothing but his shirt haphazardly covering you, but you don’t even care.
You’re bare before him, your alpha, for the first time, but you don’t even care. You’re so hot, in such a fucking mess that you don’t. care.
“Oh.” His tone is now changed, but his eyes stay on your face. You watch him swallow hard, and his breathing becomes heavy. “Bucky….don’t worry ‘bout me, i’ll be okay.” You sit up a bit, and go to cover yourself up fully, but he stops you. “No, you’re not shutting yourself inside this room and hiding from me.” It’s a near growl, but you can’t help to giggle a bit through the pain. “Don’t think i can now anyways. You broke the door.” You point and he just rolls his eyes as he crawls onto your bed.
You have the instinct to back up to the headboard, but he’s quick to place a tender hand to your thigh. His left hand holds him up as he stares into your eyes, and he watches you gulp. “Let me?” The words barely pass his lips before you nod, and his lips are on yours within a second. You’ve thrown yourself at him and he catches you, your skin is so warm, and he whines at the taste of you.
You taste like wild berries. And Bucky loves it.
He loves it.
His hands are roaming all over your body and your core is already grinding over his forming bulge in his jeans, your slick coating the material as he hardens under you. “Omega, slow down.” He mumbles against your lips after the two of you pull away. You’re breathing heavily and your hands are tangled in his long hair.
His eyes study your face for a moment before your lips are slammed back onto his. He’s never had an omega so eager before, but he loves it. His hands mold onto your body, they’re quick to find perfect placements on whatever part he can hold. “You’re so precious, omega.” Bucky mumbles as he begins to shed off his clothing. You’re quick to flip over, and he knows you don’t need any type of foreplay, that doesn’t mean he’s not going to give it to you.
“So gorgeous.” His words are airy, but all you’re focused on is the sound of his jeans being thrown across the room. “Alpha, fuck me.” You whine, your cheek then buried into the sheets as you wait- shaking your ass from side to side to try and lure him in.
A large growl is echoed through the room, then a smack is placed on your right ass cheek. “Fuck!” You whimper with a jolt, and he does it again. “Why didn’t you call me?” He asks as he runs his left hand over the spine of your back. You bury your cheek deeper into the soft sheets, but that’s soon gone once his hand wraps around the back of your neck and pulls you up. “I asked why you didn’t call? I would’ve came and fucked your pretty little brains out all you wanted. Why didn’t you call?” His breath is hot against your skin as he speaks, then his lips are all over your neck.
“B-because i didn’t want to bother you. Didn’t think you cared about me.” You mumble, and he scoffs before he shoves you back down.
Bucky isn’t going to admit it now, he’ll do that later, but he wants you to stay with him. He wants you to stay for as long as you will. He really does care about you.
He soon lays down on the bed so that his face is under your pussy. He is quick to arrange you so that you’re sitting on his face, and he wastes no time in eating you out. A squeal erupts from your throat at the shocking feeling of his tongue and lips, but you soon start to grind and hump his face. You can feel the smirk against his lips as he eats you out, and the stubble- which is nearly a beard- is rubbing across your skin. Oh how that’s going to help you remember later how good he finally treated you.
“Bucky- Alpha! Please! Oh god! It feels so fucking good!” You moan as you ride his face, his tongue lapping up all you’re giving him. He sucks and hums against your clit, and in his mind he’s thinking you’re the best damn thing he’s ever tasted. “So good, ‘mega.” He growls against your slick folds as he tongue fucks you, his nose rubbing against your swollen clit. One of your hands is tightly grabbing the sheets while the other is in his hair. “Cum for me, cum for me kitten.” He mumbles, and you can feel it.
And it’s so much better than anything you’ve ever been given- better than anything your pussy has ever been given. It’s nearly overwhelming the way he’s devouring your pussy, but you absolutely fucking love it. You love the way his mouth feels on you, and you know that you’ll become addicted over the next few days.
You can now feel the coil tightening within your tummy, the pain you were experiencing earlier is now faded, and with a loud cry and a pull of his hair, you’re cumming all over Bucky’s face. Your hips buck and your pussy walls clench around nothing- which is about to be filled with his cock- as you cum, and you can’t help the loud moan of his name that rolls off of your tongue once he licks a long, slow stripe up your pussy- from your quivering hole, up to your pearl- making sure he gets every last bit of your nectar that he can.
This makes Bucky chuckle, knowing you’re just as whipped as he is- even if it has taken him nearly a month and a half to figure it out. “My good girl.” He praises before he presses a kiss to each of your inner thighs, then he lifts you up a bit more so he can move. You nearly collapse, wobbling like Bambi, but Bucky keeps you upright so he can line his hard length up with your cunt.
“Can’t wait to make you mine, omega.” He tells you before he starts to push into you. Your pussy sucks him in instantly and he groans, he can’t help it. The feeling of you is like no other, and he knows that he doesn’t want to let you go.
He’ll tell you that later.
“Feel so good, ‘mega. Gonna make this pretty pussy cum again, this time on my cock.” His hands are then placed on your hips as he bottoms out, your pussy squeezes him tightly and he nearly has trouble pulling all the way out so he can thrust back in. “So tight, so fucking wet.” He then thrusts all the way back in with a snap of his hips and it jolts you forward. If it wasn’t for his grip on you, you’re nearly sure you would’ve hit your head on the head board and knocked yourself out. “Alpha!” You moan, your hands grabbing his that are on your hips as your cheek presses further into the mattress.
Bucky then sets a pace- his hips slamming into the back of you as he fucks you. He knows you want it hard, he can tell by how tight you’re squeezing him and your little moans- he loves those moans. “That’s it, kitty. Just like that, scream for me.” His voice is so gruff it has your pussy fluttering around him. The tone and the words and just him. Oh you love this, you love every bit of it. If only it were real.
“Alpha, oh fuck!” You moan loudly once he hits your g-spot. He does it again, and again, and again until he just loses count of how many times you squeal and make those beautiful noises for him- knowing he’s hitting that spot that is making you sing. “So pretty, omega. Kitten, you look so good like this.” He admires you from above. He can see a bit of drool slipping from your lips and he sees that your eyes are fluttering back into your head, right before they close. You look so blissed out and he’s so glad to know that he’s the one who’s doing this to you. He wants to be the only one ever again to do this for you and to you. “Bucky….harder. Alpha, please!?” You swallow hard right before his thrusts pick up, and it takes you by surprise by how much harder he fucks into you.
You know you’re going to have bruises, but you’ll have them for the next few days if the sex is like this through your whole heat. “Like that, kitty? Want it rough? Little kitten likes it rough, huh?” He’s panting a little bit now with how hard he’s giving it to you, but you don’t care. You find everything about this man absolutely hot, sexy, and you’re infatuated. You don’t care and your mind is in a haze anyways. You can barely think about what day it is.
“Yes.” It’s a strangled, pleasure filled cry, and once he grabs your wrists and pins them to your back, it’s over. His other hand grabs your neck and pulls you up off of the bed again, just a bit, and his cock rams into you from a new angle. “Oh yes yes yes yes!” You squeal, feeling your second orgasm coming. “That’s it omega, cum for me. Cream on my fucking cock!” He grunts, and his hand on your neck squeezes a little tighter. Your pussy flutters one last time around him before you cum. Your gasps and moans fill the air as you fall apart on Bucky’s thick cock. He’s never felt so good in his life, and he’s cumming right after you. “Fuuuuck.” He drawls out as he cums, and your name falls right out of his mouth too.
“Bucky, oh god i feel so full.” You whimper once you think the last spurt of his hot cum shoots inside of you. Within a few seconds, it’s trailing back out and down your thighs, quickly coating his balls as well. “Shit.” Bucky curses, pulling out his cock with a lewd pop. He then gently lays you down onto the bed, and he snuggles up beside you. He watches as you slowly ease down onto the bed, your back not arched anymore, and he then pulls you close to him. “Feel okay?” He softly rubs your upper back as he watches your eyes flutter shut, a small smile on your face. “Yeah, feel better. Thanks.” You mumble. “It’s my job.”
Yeah, it’s actually a job. It’s a job you don’t get paid for and i’ll have to leave after it’s over with. Silly me.
Little do you know, he doesn’t mean it like that. It’s not like that.
Bucky’s eyes then trail over your back, and to your ass. He catches sight of some bruises forming, but he knows that you’ll be okay. He’ll take care of you if you let him. He then notices his shirt laying above the two of you on your pillow. He lazily picks it up, but catches a whiff of your arousal on the fabric. “Did you- did you play with yourself and uh….cum on my shirt?” He asks as he looks at the material.
“I didn’t cum on it, must’ve wiped my hand on it by accident. Sorry.” He’s not upset, he finds it a bit hot if he’s being honest. He’s never had someone so hung up over him, but he loves it. He’s just as hung up over you as you are him- little to your knowledge- and even he was oblivious to his feelings until tonight. His hand continues rubbing your back, and he can tell that you’re a little spent from the round of sex prior because of how at ease you are now. He then tosses the shirt at the broken door before he’s flipping you over and onto your back- an idea popping into his head. “Why don’t i clean you up, then i can reheat that food you cooked? I know you’ve not eaten, i can tell, and you need to, omega.” A lazy smile pulls on Bucky’s lips as he gently rubs your outer thighs with his thumbs- he’s in between your legs. “Yeah, that would be nice.” You agree with him.
Bucky plans on taking care of you for the rest of your heat, and even after that. If you let him.
“You’re warm.” You mumble, burying your head further into Bucky’s chest. He chuckles and you can feel the vibrations from it in his chest. “Yeah, and you’re already horny again.” You lightly smack your lips before you roll over to straddle him, his cock hard underneath you. “Someone else is, too. Can i be on top?” You lightly run your nails over his pecs as he adjusts himself- his hands then placed on your bare hips. “Mm, do you think you have enough strength to go that long, kitty?” He smirks up at you, his eyes twinkling in the low light. “Yeah, i think i do.” “You think it’ll fit?” He grasps your hips tighter and grinds you down on top of him, a small whimper falling pass your lips. “Yeah, it has the past two days.” “But i’ve been fucking you, you’ve not been fucking me.” His left hand comes up and pinches your hardened nipple and you pout. “Alpha….don’t taunt me.” You dig your nails a bit harder into his pecs before he stops grinding you over his cock.
“Okay then, kitty. Take what’s yours and start bouncin’.”
Bucky’s fingers lightly dance over your skin as you sleep on top of him. He’s never fell in love so quick. Your scent drives him up the wall, your touch sends him into a spiral, everything about you has him wanting more. And whatever you’ll give him, he’ll take. He was dumb to not realize it before your heat started, but he’s liked you ever since he saw you- smelled you. That moment you walked into Natasha’s office, he knew that you’d be his. Well, his inner alpha did, but Bucky himself was in denial.
Now, he wants to give you the world, and he will try to as long as you let him. He just hopes that he didn’t shove you away in the process of him being a stubborn bitch. He hopes you’ll let him hold you even on the nights when your heat isn’t there. He wants to cook along beside you, watch tv cuddled up with you, go on walks while holding hands. He wants to kiss your lips, touch every inch of your skin whether it be hot or cold, soft or dry. He doesn’t care. He wasn’t every part of you, and he needs you.
He just hopes that you need and want him, too.
It’s the day after your heat. That means Bucky is going to kick you out. Funny thing is, he left for work as usual this morning. He pressed a kiss to your head and with a wave, he was out of the door.
You’re sad and hurt, but what else could you expect from this?
You have most of your stuff packed, and you called Steve- since you and him have gotten close over time and Natasha is working- to help you carry it back to your place. Since you don’t have a car, he’s going to drive you over.
It’s now nearing three, and you’re expecting Steve to arrive at any time.
As you shove the last item in your bag, you look around the room. Bucky took the door off the hinge that it was attached to after he broke it down, the room looks bare now that all of your things are gone from the dresser and vanity.
You sigh and zip the bag up. You never even got to wear the dress. You were hoping you would, but again, this was all just useless.
As you’re putting the bag onto your shoulder, you hear a car door. You hurriedly grab two more bags and rush out to the living room. Once you swing the door open, you see Steve. “Hey!” You greet him, and he instantly smiles, but it falters, “you sure you want to go?” “Yeah, just feel like it’s best.” You say with a sad chuckle. Steve nods and says no more, he only helps you tote your things out to his car.
Once you two get everything settled in the trunk, you begin to walk back into the house one last time. “Hey, i’ve got to grab something. I’ll be right back!” You shout to Steve before he hops into his drivers seat. “Take your time!”
You instantly walk back into the kitchen, and spot the purple post it notes. You grab the same pen you always use, and start to write.
Bucky, it was nice getting to know you, it’s been good. Never thought you’d warm up to me or even be willing to help, but i’m glad I got matched with you. I’m sorry things couldn’t work out, guess you just didn’t want someone like me. I really was hoping things would be different, because i really like you. Anyways, wish you the best- y/n
With a wipe of a tear from your eye, you snap the pen shut and stick the note onto his laptop that always stays on his counter. You sigh and take a look around the house before you head to the front door.
After one look back, you lock and shut the door with a thud. Steve looks up and sees you wiping your eyes, but he decides to just let it go.
Things will work out if they’re meant to be, right?
You soon open the passenger side door and hop in. “Hey, need to make a stop by Natasha’s office so i can tell her to get rid of the contract.” You tell Steve as you buckle your seatbelt. He nods, “whatever you want to do.”
So he takes you there, and it takes you only about fifteen minutes to get there, too. Steve tells you to go in, that he’ll talk to Natasha on her break which is in about an hour. “You sure?” “Yeah, i’ll drive back here. It’s no big deal!” You then head into the building.
Of course it’s the same as when you first came here, but this time you know where you’re going. So you go on up.
And once you get to her door, you knock. “Come in!” You open it and once she sees you, her face falls. “Y/n, what’re you doing here!?” She acts almost shocked to see you. Why?
“I’d like to shred the contract.” You state matter of factly. Her eyes widen a bit more, but she nods, “o-oh okay, uh yeah. Just give me a moment.” She then begins to shuffle through one of the filing cabinet drawers beside her, and once she finds yours and Bucky’s, she pulls it out. “Okay, you sure? Because once i shred this up, there’s no more rent being paid on your apartment, and you will be removed from the program and never be allowed to sign up again.” “Well, lucky for me, once i try it once and it turns out shit, i don’t want to ever try it again. Tear it up, Nat.” You reply, and you watch her.
Her fingers hesitate, but with one swift movement, they tear the several pieces of paper in half, then she places it in the shredder beside her. “It’s done.” She sighs, and she looks sad. “Thanks Nat, i’ll see ya later. Steve is dropping me off at my place.” You reply before giving her a side hug. “Okay, i’ll talk to you later.” Is all you hear right as you step out of her office.
It takes everything in you not to burst into tears when you finally walk out, but you manage to make it to the elevator with only a single tear that rolls down your cheek.
“Thanks Steve. You go see Nat, know you’ve missed her.” You mumble as you give him a quick hug. “Yeah, if you need anything, let me know. Don’t be afraid to come around.” He chuckles before he closes your apartment door, and your small smile drops. All of the emotion that you’ve been feeling since the morning is now crumbling onto you, and it hurts. You sink down to the floor and tears start to wet your cheeks. Why couldn’t it have just worked out?
You lean back against the wall nearest to you, and start to sob. You really got attached to Bucky, yet you weren’t good enough. Or maybe he just doesn’t want anything to do with an omega. Either way, it’s fucked and now you’re heartbroken.
“She WHAT?!” Bucky yells into his cell phone as he talks with Steve. “She thought you didn’t want shit to do with her, Buck. I mean, after the way you talked about her, i don’t blame her.” Steve replies and Bucky crumples the note up in his hand. “Fuck fuck fuck!” Bucky shouts as he plops down onto the couch, his phone still up to his ear. “You do know that even if the contract is split and torn, it doesn’t mean that you two are done, right? You can go to her apartment that’s on 276 Ironsdale Street on the fourth floor that’s room 409, and knock and talk to her. Right?” Natasha then speaks, and Bucky halts his panic. He hurriedly gets up and grabs a purple sticky note where you placed them at earlier in the day.
He then grabs the same pen you used and snaps it open, “what’s the address, and when will her apartment contract be renewed?”
A soft knock is placed at your door, and if you weren’t only a few feet away from it, you would probably leave it alone and let whoever is on the other side of it just go away. But since you’re on the floor and it’s nearly in reach, you scoot a little and unlock the knob. Before you can even turn the handle, the door swings open and you squeak. Bucky’s eyes meet yours and he sees the tears that stain your perfect cheeks and he sees how your pretty eyes are absolutely flooded with salty tears.
He slams the door shut before plopping to the ground and his arms are around you within seconds. “Angel, oh god, why?” He mumbles as he rocks you two back and forth. You’re a bit confused, but you don’t care. His touch is fucking heaven and you’ve missed it- even if it’s just been a few hours away from him. “Bucky….” you mumble into his jacket, but he just hugs you tighter. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here and i’m not leaving, i’m not going anywhere.” He reassures you and you sniffle.
Your head then lifts from his chest and your eyes meet his, “really? Why?” He looks taken back, but his expression soon relaxes- remembering that you think he hates you and wants nothing to do with you. “Baby, i love you. I’m sorry i was so awful to you, and neglected you. I was such an asshole, an absolute, in denial prick. You’re the best girl i’ve ever had. I’d like to-.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “i’d like to be your alpha, forever, and you be my omega. I’d like to take you out and get to know even more about you and you can know anything and everything you wanna know about me. Does that sound okay? You can even wear that dress you bought.” His hands gently grip your wrists and his thumbs rub soothing circles onto your skin.
Your eyes refill with tears again, but this time they’re happy ones. “Yes Bucky, i’d love that so much.” You throw your arms around his neck, and you sit in his lap. A huge smile comes across his pretty face that you’re sadly not able to see, but you’ll be seeing it in the future- many many times. “My omega, my beautiful girl. I’m so sorry.” He rubs your back through your shirt as he comforts you. “You’re here now Bucky and that’s what matters most. You came back for me, you actually care.” “Of course i do, everything i said over those days while you were in your heat weren’t lies. I was being truthful.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head as you relax into him even more.
“I also heard from a little birdie that your contract for your lease here isn’t renewed until a few days. So what do you say that me and you move you into my place? No more shitty apartment contracts, and we’ll get Steve and Sam to help, how does that sound, angel?” His words make you even more happy and you can’t help but hug him even tighter. “Yes, Bucky. I want that so much. I want you, baby.” And Bucky couldn’t be happier with his girl in his arms, finally.
And he knows that Natasha has already shredded up his papers at that lovely place she works at, because she knew that you two would work out.
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speak, sweetheart | bucky barnes
summary: bucky and sam are left speechless when ‘the quiet one’ says what everyone is thinking. inspired by tfatws.
♡ pairing: bucky barnes x shy!avenger reader. platonic → slight flirting.
!! warnings: john walker being gross, reader is very shy (is that a warning idk) short, fluffy.
✎ authors note: i love reading about shy!readers because i am so introverted and it’s validating to see reader inserts with my exact personality type. i kinda want to try and write some more badass reader inserts in the future though !! let me know what y’all think / send asks with requests :)
main masterlist | send me asks / requests !
it was no secret that when it came to you, bucky and sam, you spoke the least out of the three of you. sometimes bucky wondered if the things he had heard you say were just the fragments of conversations the two of you shared in his dreams. beyond the taste of communication during missions, you preferred to remain silent and your lack of words reduced even more in the presence of john walker. the new ‘captain america’ had shown up during a fight with the flag smashers which resulted in sam and bucky rolling through a field as if they were trying to recreate that one padmé and anakin scene you loved so much.
walker and his partner, lemar, were riding along when they pulled up beside you, sam and bucky on the road. you watched on in amusement as they tried to grab your attention, wondering what witty comment sam or bucky would throw their way. what you didn’t expect was to be sitting across from the new captain just mere seconds later. why the fuck are we doing this? you thought to yourself sending empty glances at your co-workers.
bucky stared at john which made john shift in his seat. a smile eventually formed on your lips, enjoying the way the ‘hero’ squirmed under bucky’s gaze. the all too familiar stare would make anyone back down and you were happy that it had somewhat humbled john. sam excused bucky’s more than anti-social behaviour and made an effort to discuss the flag smashers. despite sam’s attempts to keep the conversation casual and civilised, john had a different agenda at play.
“who is this? new avenger?” he asked sarcastically. sam stopped mid-sentence to glance at you and back at john. you let john’s gaze settle on you but sucked in a breath when he looked you up and down, hating the way his gaze felt on your skin.
“yeah, new recruit.” sam responded. bucky’s stare was as hard as ever and even lemar’s eyes darted around the men’s faces in a sort of intimidated manner.
“what’s your name, sweetheart.” his condescending tone made your face scrunch up in disgust. gross, you thought. “cat got your tongue?” he asked, laughing at his own joke. you remained silent, not giving into him.
“leave her alone.” bucky spat. you let him take this one, usually sending him a look whenever he tried to defend you to yet another asshole you met on the field. this time you just exhaled, looking past john’s head as if he wasn’t sat right in front of you, ticking him off.
“she can speak, right?” he joked, moving his head into your line of sight, desperate for some sort of attention which you refused to give him.
“yes, she can.” sam responded, growing annoyed as john went even further off topic.
“so, say something then, sweetheart.” that nickname had you growing impatient. why you were hitching a ride with them in the first place was a mystery to you so his unappreciated comments were starting to grind on you.
“hm.” he hums, sitting back in his seat in some sort of satisfaction. you smirked at him, a look that unsettled him slightly and bucky noticed the way john’s own smirk dropped. it was a minuscule shift in expression but he was impressed with how you held him down without even opening your mouth, something he thought only he could do.
“i don’t mean to make any enemies.” he starts with his false innocence. “let’s start over, i’m captain america.” he says, extending a hand to you. thoughts of steve went through your mind and although you didn’t really know steve, you felt protective over his title being shared with anyone else other than sam. bucky had told you the whole story with his own added opinions and you were patiently waiting for sam to take up the shield, agreeing with bucky that sam was the perfect man for the job.
“no you’re not.” you say and everyone looks toward you. “you’re john walker, and the only thing you are captain of is the U.S. army’s 75th ranger’s regiment.” the four men continued to stare at you.
“you did your homework?” he asked, laughing nervously, no sense of superiority lingered in his tone after your comment.
“i did my research.” you corrected, twisting the knife you had put in his ego with an equally condescending tone. bucky’s mouth was open as you smiled an innocent smile at john, causing his jaw to clench in anger.
“stop the car!” bucky shouted over the loud engine. the car came to a halt and bucky jumped out while you gladly followed him. as your feet landed on the gravel you walked away. bucky watched you but hung back, waiting for sam to follow. after a few more exchanged words, he stood up and joined bucky on the road as john and lemar took off.
“she is so strange.” sam starts while laughing. “i love it.” he finishes and bucky laughs with him.
“yeah.” he responds as he watches you bend down to pick up a daisy from the grass. his eyebrows crease together as he watches your calm actions despite what just went down.
you were in the kitchen, pottering about with headphones on when bucky left his room to venture out for a midnight beverage. you hadn’t spoken to either sam or bucky since the confrontation with john out of fear that you had overstepped and said too much, causing conflict where they didn’t need it.
“hi.” he mouths when he sees you. you smile at him, taking the headphones out and pulling yourself onto the counter. “you should get some sleep.” he comments and you just stare him down as he pours a glass of water. when you don’t say anything to him, his eyes dart to you.
“i’m sorry if i crossed a line before.” you say in an almost silent squeak but bucky hears you loud and clear.
“with john?” he asks and you hum in response. “i have to admit.” he starts, taking a sip before putting the glass down. he leans on the stone island and looks you over before continuing. “i was very suprised.” your lips pulled together into a small smile recalling how you silenced walker.
“i shouldn’t have said anything.” you say, fingers wringing together in an anxious response to the conversation.
“really?” he questions. “it was very bad-ass.” he comments with a huge grin and head tilt making you laugh again.
“it was silly.” you correct. “i let him get to me.” you confess, voice getting louder in volume the more comfortable you become. “he is so irritating.” you comment and bucky smiles in understanding, trying not to laugh too loudly.
“i know, doll, he is.” he agrees. “but hey, you stood up for yourself, you can’t be too disappointed, in fact you should be proud.” he says. you never thought of it like that and the thought eases your thoughts.
“can i ask you a question?” he asks and you nod your head. “why don’t you speak to us much?” he asks. you swallow and exhale through your nose, making bucky shift in his spot while he awaits some sort of answer. “you don’t have to talk about it, sorry, it’s fine.” he says.
“i just don’t.” you say. “it’s like, i feel better just observing instead of getting involved.” you explain, bucky folds his arms over his chest. “i like to hear other people talk rather than hear myself.” you say.
“well, i like it when you talk to me.” he says.
“yeah?” you respond and he nods enthusiastically, eyes softening. you nod with him until he stops and you both laugh.
taglist: @amywinehouseisgod @mardema @w-wolfhxrd @moonlacebeam @flightsandfantasy if there is a line through your name it’s because tumblr won’t let me tag you. to be added to my ‘everything bucky’ taglist send me an ask! i also have a taglist for other characters that can be found in my masterlist.
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I’ve been thinking about mafia!stucky a lot lately….like a lot 😶😶 I bet stucky have polaroids in their wallets of the reader in cute little lingerie sets, or being tied up, or just straight up naked and whenever ever the reader gets a new set it’s just a new polaroid that gets added to their wallets, but the reader complains that they don’t have any of their boys so they dress up in SUPER nice suits while the reader takes pictures but the more pictures they take the more clothes that come off
Pairing: Mafia Bucky x Reader, Mafia Steve x Reader, Stucky x Reader
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Smut, 18+ Oral (m and f receiving), praise kink, implied overstimulation kink, voyeurism kink. Dom Steve, switch Bucky. Stucky action.
A/N: Written on my phone, unbetad. Let me know if you spot any mistakes and I'll gladly fix them.
Thank you @its-just-may for the banners.
Steve loves to draw you, small charcoal sketches of your face that he keeps in his wallet, a few gifted to Bucky in exchange for the polaroids Bucky takes. You’ve sat at the breakfast table countless times, giggling over your food as they barter over pictures of you. “Gimme one of her tits and I’ll let you have this one of her in the shower.”
Steve is more artistic, classy in his renditions of you, this morning he carried your groggy body out of bed, whispering in your ear that he wants to sketch you while the sun rises. So used to his whims, you only nod, placing a kiss on his bare shoulder.
You’re half asleep, letting him pose you in front of the living room window, he stripped you over your clothes and put you in his oversized shirt. The dim, quiet room slowly illuminating with soft golden rays. Steve’s sitting on the coffee table, his pajama pants slung low on his hips, tapping his pen on his tattooed chest as he frames you with his other hand.
“One more second, mo chridhe,” he pleads, bright blue eyes flitting between your face and the pad of thick linen paper resting on his lap. “Don’t move, okay?”
You want to smile because he’s so endearing whenever he draws you, but you don’t move a muscle, willing to do anything he asks especially since he keeps muttering under his breath how fucking beautiful you are. “I just-“
“Damn.” The guttural, appreciative sound echos across the warm room, his baritone voice trailing across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. Bucky. “She looks gorgeous.” He starts towards you, his feet padding across the floor. “Lemme just fix her shirt, Stevie.” Your nipples tighten knowing he means 'remove the shirt'. Steve hisses out an I will fuck you up if you ruin my picture, the urge to smile pulls at your face.
You and Bucky know he won’t do anything, but he backs off anyway, his hands raised playfully. “Excuse me for wanting to show off our pretty girl.” He sits beside Steve, leaning back on one elbow. His stormy blue eyes rake up and down your body while his hand slips under the band of his gray sweatpants. Pulling out his hardening cock, he slowly pumps his shaft. “As soon as he’s done, you’re going to pose for me. I gotta couple of things I want to do to you.”
You almost whimper hearing his deep voice describe all the things he’s going to do as soon as Steve finishes. Both men smirk when you shift on the seat, your thighs clenching together. Steve leans forward, his hand flying across the pad, capturing your eyes just as the sun rises above your shoulder. “Have you ever seen anyone so beautiful, Buck?” He murmurs, his eyes rolling at Bucky’s salacious groan.
Where Steve is tasteful and artistic, Bucky is downright filthy.
He likes to dress you up in expensive lingerie and have you arch your back, thighs spread as he saunters around you, taking picture after picture. Every single one is vulgar and sexy and passionate. You feel like a goddess by the time he’s done with you.
Bucky prefers his old school camera, the one that spits out polaroids, mostly because of the instant gratification of seeing you come to life on film.
He has so many pictures of you bent over his desk, couch, or his lap, your pussy drenched and glistening for him. A few of you and Steve, your legs splayed over his thick thighs and his fingers buried in your cunt while you’re naked except for the diamonds dripping around your neck.
Other times, you’re wearing nothing but his tie around your neck, your hands pinned above your head with Steve’s tongue buried in your pussy, Bucky loves the way you look when you’re about to cum, he gets hard just thinking about the little noise you make right as your orgasm hits you.
The one in his wallet just behind his I.D. is his favorite, fuck he can’t stop looking at that one when he’s having a bad day. He’ll stare at the polaroid, entranced by the way your lips wrap so nicely around his cock, mascara streaming down your face because you’re pretty when you cry princesta. That picture has kept him from losing his temper so many times.
If people only knew that the reason they’re still breathing is because you like to choke on his cock.
Your men are so different, but they have one thing in common. You. And they will do whatever you want. The world bows to them and they kneel before you. Which is how you got New York’s infamous mafia bosses to dress up for you and now you’re the one taking the pictures.
Steve and Bucky perch on the end of Steve’s desk, their thick thighs pressing together. God, they look so handsome. Steve in his black pinstriped suit that molds perfectly around his massive biceps, his dirty blonde hair slicked back, beard neatly trimmed and Bucky wearing your favorite three-piece dark gray suit, his jacket partially unbuttoned revealing his scrawling tattoo that wraps around his throat and trails down his broad chest.
“Okay,” you grin, holding the camera up as you get their attention. Steve stops playing with a loose strand of Bucky’s silky hair while his hand rests on Steve’s thigh. Taking a step back, you watch them come into focus on the small screen. “Kiss him, Stevie.”
Steve keeps his eyes on you and yanks Bucky’s head back so hard he grunts from the pain. His brow arches as his plump lips descend over Buckys. The kiss is sloppy and wild and you forget you’re supposed to be taking a picture. Bucky moans-fuck you love his moans- when Steve’s tongue sweeps into his mouth.
And he never stops looking at you, the way he keeps Bucky’s head tilted back, deepening the kiss. Your clit pulses at the sight of him devouring Bucky. You almost drop the camera when his large hand slides around Bucky’s throat and he squeezes. Barely managing to take the picture, you take a step closer, suddenly understanding why they’re so obsessed with capturing moments like this.
Steve breaks the kiss, his head turning to you. His swollen lips curling into a smirk, a silent what else hanging in the air. Bucky takes a deep breath in, his chest heaving. You swallow twice, trying to control your own breathing.
For the next picture, you have Steve fold his hands behind his head while Bucky cuts his shirt off. Your hands tremble as you watch him slide his blade down Steve’s firm chest, pushing the shredded cloth off his large body, both of their cocks twitching when Bucky flicks the blade beneath Steve’s chin forcing his head back to steal another wet, sloppy kiss.
You order Steve to remove Bucky’s pants, both men chuckle at your saucy tone. You don’t know how impressed they are, they like it when you’re bossy, but they also know you’re mere seconds from begging them to fuck you. They exchange pointed glances, silently agreeing to give their girl a show.
You let out a whimper when Steve slaps Bucky’s ass; the sound echoing through the room. You can almost feel the sharp sting on your own skin. Steve roughly pulls down his expensive tailored slacks and pushes the brunette back on the desk before falling to his knees. He takes out Bucky’s cock, he’s so big that even Steve has a little trouble taking him sometimes. You get a good picture of him, your mouth watering at the sight of the long vein trailing up the thick shaft, Steve’s ring adorned fingers closing around it, the red swollen head dripping precum over his hand.
The camera falls from your hands at the same time Steve’s mouth slides down his cock. “Come here,” Bucky commands, his hand gripping Steve’s hair, guiding the mafia boss over his throbbing length. He curls a finger, beckoning you closer.
Bucky lies back on the desk, groaning as Steve’s head bobs faster, the wet slick sounds of him fucking his throat on Bucky’s cock getting louder and louder. “Be a good girl and ride me. “
Your pussy clenches down at the thought of riding his abs. Quickly taking off your clothes, you climb over the side of the desk; you start to swing a leg over his chest, pausing when he shakes his head with a low tsk. “No doll, turn around and sit on my face. I want you to watch Stevie while I eat your pretty little pussy.” Oh god yes, you love how dominant they are.
You straddle him, planting your hands on his warm, solid chest. Bucky digs his long fingers into your hips. “And doll, whoever cums last gets to fuck Stevie.” He chuckles, watching more of your slick drip out of your pussy. “Greedy little cunt wants to be stretched out and filled so bad doesn’t it,” he taunts, he doesn’t wait for you to answer, pulling you down until he buries in your drenched pussy.
Sometimes you forget how well they know each other and you. Steve’s lust-blown blue eyes flicker up to you just as Bucky’s long, wet tongue circles your clit. Fuck, his mouth feels so good on your aching pussy, he rolls your hips over his open mouth, flattening his tongue as it lashes over your clit, the flurry of licks sends white hot shocks of pleasure up your body.
Your mouth goes slack, soft breathy moans slipping from your lips. “Oh fuck, oh fuck me,” you pant. Digging your nails into his tatted skin, you watch Steve swallow Bucky, his large fingers tugging his balls, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks harder. You get even wetter knowing Steve’s trying to make Bucky come so he can pound your pussy.
“‘s good,” you sob, reaching out to stroke Steve’s hair. “”m gonna-oh shit," you drop your head, a scream clawing from your throat. Bucky slaps your ass, spelling his name over your pulsating clit with long deliberate swipes of his tongue, bursts of pleasure exploding inside you. “Steve, I can’t take-fuck,” you babble, sensations rush through your frame as you feel two long fingers push into your tight heat, curling over your velvety walls.
Steve moans around Bucky’s cock and you feel him stiffen under you, his fingers. He moves faster, drool slipping around his mouth as his cock hits the back of his throat.
Bucky retaliates by sucking wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking your little bud into his warm, wet mouth. It feels so incredibly good. You can’t breathe, your lips parted in a silent scream, the pressure building and building until it becomes unbearable.
You slam your hands on either side of Bucky’s large body, grinding down on his face, fucking yourself on his tongue. You faintly feel him chuckling into your cunt, murmuring good girl as you lose control, your orgasm rapidly approaching. “Right there, right there, oh god yes, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you chant, your glossy eyes staring at Steve curling both hands around Bucky’s shaft, pumping and twisting him hard and fast as he sucks his swollen tip.
White-hot heat spreads across your belly, your orgasm unfurling within you. Oh fuck, it’s bliss, pure and utter bliss, the way he’s taking you apart, all your thoughts are consumed by how good you feel, his tongue flickering over your bud until you’re gushing over his face. Bucky jerks up, his abs tensing as hips snap up and he moans his release into your sensitive cunt, the vibrations setting off aftershocks that have you whimpering. Steve keeps his tight grip on him, swallowing every drop.
You would have collapsed but Steve leans forward, his large hands curving around your sides, lifting you up. “You won, sweetheart,” he grins, peppering your face with soft kisses.
“I did?” you ask breathlessly, resting your head on his chest. Bucky looks up at Steve with a smirk. Steve narrows his eyes, daring him to disagree.
Bucky’s eyes flit between Steve and your sopping cunt, hovering above his face. He can’t blame Steve because he can’t get enough of your tight little pussy either.
If Steve wasn’t damn near feral with the need to fuck you right now, he would pull you down for another taste. “You did,” he chimes in, placing his arms behind his head. “Why don’t you give our girl her reward Stevie.”
Steve drags you down Bucky’s body, your swollen clit rubbing across his corded muscles. He grabs your ass and pulls you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his narrow waist. Bucky sits up and grips Steve’s shaft, guiding every thick inch into you, your fluttering walls stretching over his enormous cock until he’s bottomed out. “Good girl,” he grunts, giving Bucky a mischievous look over your shoulder. “I’m going to fuck you so good, you won’t remember what Bucky’s cock feels like.”
Bucky rears his head back, “Fuck you, we all know that sweet pussy can barely take my cock.” He saunters past your entangled bodies. Picking up your discarded camera and he walks around you, his fingers skimming across your back, watching Steve ruthlessly pound up into you, your legs dangling over his arms, keeping you in place so you have to take each veiny inch, your soft moans growing louder and louder over the wet squelch of your cunt.
He waits until you’re wailing Steve’s name, holding up the camera just as you’re about to fall apart. “That it, cum for me, doll, such a good fucking girl,” he says under his breath, pressing the shutter button. He places his head on Steve’s shoulder, his eyes connecting with yours. “Good girl,” he praises.
“Oh god, Bucky,” you keen, unaware that the wrong name rolled off your tongue, too lost in the sensation of another orgasm ripping through you. Steve goes absolutely still even as you continue to spasm around him, his head cants back and he glares at an amused Bucky.
“Guess that pussy still remembers my cock huh Stevie?” Bucky laughs, taking a quick snap of his enraged face.
Steve turns back to you and the look in his dark blue eyes sends a shiver down your back. You’re in trouble, your pussy clenches, knowing he’s going to punish you for your little slip-up. And you can't wait. Steve feels more of your sweet slick coat his cock. His plump lips curl into a devious smile. “I was being gentle with you, sweetheart. Let’s see you say the wrong name when you’re gagging on my cock.”
Steve walks you back to the desk, keeping you wrapped around him as he places you on the smooth cool wood, leaning down, caging you with his large body. “In fact, let’s see if you remember anyone’s name after I’m done splitting your little pussy in two.”
You can't wait. Bucky captures your gleeful grin on film seconds before it dissolves into a sobbing broken moan, your face contorting with pleasure. Yeah, you're not going to remember a damn thing by the time he's done with you. Except maybe to call out Buckys name again.
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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
“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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For the Love of the Game - Part Seven
Pairing: College!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.
Word count: 4.3k
Warnings: mild language, fluff, tiny bit of angst
a/n: The last part! :,) I can’t thank everyone enough for all the support on this series! I’ll be posting drabbles all next week. Thank you again!! 💛
Series Materlist // Main Masterlist
“Where the hell’s my girl?” Bucky Barnes was squinting from the outfield, putting very little effort into his warm up with Sam. He had been eyeing the stands next to the dugout for a solid ten minutes, aching to catch a glimpse of you.
“She told you she’d be a little late. Stop worrying so much, man,” Sam said. He tossed the ball to Bucky who barely looked over in time to catch it.
“Nat’s already here though.”
“Yeah, and y/n had to drive herself since office hours ran late. Some people have cars of their own and don’t have to steal other people's.”
Bucky groaned. “C’mon, are you still mad about that? That was weeks ago and you didn’t even need it that day!”
“Still woulda been nice to let me know! I’m glad you got the girl, Buck, but you left a bunch of empty water bottles in my damn cup holders!”
“Can you two shut up? I’m trying to focus.”
“Oh shove it, Tony. You’re not even warming up,” Bucky called back.
Tony opened his eyes from his seat in the grass. “I’m meditating, dipshit. Pepper says it’s good for centering yourself.”
“Thor!” Sam yelled. “Come remove this garden gnome from the field. I need the extra space and you’re the one with the big arms.”
“Why is my assistance needed?” Thor asked, turning away from his warm up with Pietro.
“I need you to pick this guy up, and toss him as far as you can.”
“Hey!” Tony barked. “You just watch. This is gonna be my best game yet and then all you uncentered idiots are gonna be lining up to ask me—”
“Super strange that none of you are actually warming up over here,” Steve interrupted, returning from the coin toss between teams. “We’re batting first by the way. Fury put the line up on the fence. Get set up.”
The team obliged, all jogging over to the dugout. Bucky stayed back a bit with his eyes still glued to the seat you should’ve been taking up. You said you were going to be five minutes late at the most. The game was going to start any minute now.
“What’s got you all antsy?” Steve asked.
Bucky barely glanced his way. “Y/n’s still not here. I’m not hovering or anything, but last time this happened I had to go pick her up all bruised on the side of the road.”
“Well, last time she wasn’t your girlfriend and you were still in your ‘let’s piss her off and make bad decisions’ stage.”
“Ha ha, very funny.” He pushed Steve’s arm in jest. “Seriously though, I’m a little worried about her.”
“Give her a quick call then,” Steve offered. “We have a few minutes until we bat and you’re not first on the lineup. I’m sure she just ran into some traffic.”
“Yeah… yeah good idea.”
In truth, you probably were just stuck in traffic and Bucky was being overly paranoid, but everything had been going so well between the two of you and he wanted to keep that up.
The weeks following your first date had been pure bliss for him. All of the things he longed for—even just the small things—had fallen into his lap now that you trusted him. The smiles in between classes. The hugs after games. The silent brushes and sweet kisses in dim light and his favorite, right in the sun. Even the way you looked at him drove him crazy.
Because you were his.
You hadn’t told him that you loved him yet. That was mainly because he hadn’t let you. Each time it looked like you were about to, Bucky would smother your mouth in a kiss and leave you dazed.
It’s not that he didn’t want to hear it—god, did he want to hear it—but he wanted you to say it when you were sure. When you were so sure that you were just bursting, eyes gleaming and smile so wide it hurt your cheeks.
Like how his Ma looked at his Pa.
And even though you looked at him like he hung the moon most days, you didn’t look like that yet. But he was willing to wait; Bucky was a very patient man.
Except for when he didn’t know where you were.
Bucky dug through his baseball bag back in the dugout, pushing aside sunflower seeds and bat weights to get to his phone. When he found it, he was slightly perturbed by the texts on the screen.
Got Peter to walk me in! You look cute out there ;)
Those were sent twenty minutes ago. Bucky’s obsessive staring told him that you definitely hadn’t been to your seat for the better part of ten minutes. Well, that just tied his stomach into knots.
Why aren’t you in your seat doll? You okay?
He waited three minutes, but didn’t get a response.
He knew he shouldn’t leave right before a game, but his cleats were bounding around the fence before he could stop himself. He’d just take a small peek around to make sure you were close by. He’d check the snackbar maybe, or just take a quick lap around the upper level of the stadium.
Snackbar was a bust. He could have guessed as much; you were tired of the stadium snacks just as much as the pizza from the sports bar. He’d been shoving the food you did like into your bag on game days. You always insisted that you were fine, but he had to make sure to take care of his best girl.
You weren’t on the upper level either, and he was starting to get a little nervous. Did you leave? Surely you would’ve told him. Maybe the bathroom? Or maybe you left something in your car?
Knowing that his time was running out, Bucky made for the field again. He would ask Nat or Wanda on his way down; they would know where you were. Just before he hit the stairs to the bottom level, he heard your voice.
“—so you should just leave.”
“I already told you I’m not going to leave. I just want to talk to him for a few minutes.” Rage filled Bucky’s chest. He knew that voice.
“You’re an idiot then. I’ve been trying to keep him from talking to you for weeks. You’re not going to like the outcome.”
“How would you know anything, huh? You screw around with him a few times and think you mean something? I can name twenty girls in your position; Barnes isn’t too classy in that department.”
Bucky walked faster.
Your laugh was dry. “I guess I didn’t make myself clear at your dumb party, Zemo. You don’t know the first thing about Bucky, so you can go ahead and keep your dirty, slimy mouth shut about him, got it?”
“I’ll keep my mouth shut just as soon as you close your legs.”
Bucky saw red. Why was this hallway so long? All he wanted was to get to you and tug you away from that asshole. The one that set you up and advocated for you to get in that car with that drunk driver and almost—
He took a deep breath to steady himself. Everytime he thought about what happened, he got worked up. You’d been hesitant to tell him for that very reason, but on a night when the rain beat down on the metal stairs of his fire escape, he wrapped you in blankets and forced it out of you.
He could still remember your shifting eyes and the way you fit your head into the crook of his neck. His hands found a permanent home on the back of your head, his continuous caresses grounding him. He had been breathing heavily, and you had to pry his phone out of his hands before he could make a very damaging, very provoking phone call.
But your soft voice and gentle hands had reminded him that you were fine now; that there was no reason to get involved with those people if he didn’t need to.
You weren’t exactly calming him down this time.
Warm hands dropped on your shoulders, startling you out of the glare you had turned up at Zemo. They were Bucky’s hands; you had memorized their touch.
“Is there a fucking problem here?” You had never heard that inflection in his tone—the gruff rage deep within his chest.
Zemo’s mouth twitched. “Ah, Bucky. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but no luck. Figured this was the best place.”
“Best place to what? Piss me off?”
“The best place to convince you to drop this stupid act. You need me, Barnes. Without me you’re just some poor kid from Brooklyn who got lucky with a scholarship. You’re trash and I made you better. I made—”
You pulled against Bucky’s hold, but he wouldn’t let up. You opened your mouth to scream at Zemo—to tell him he was wrong and he needed to leave before you pummeled him into the ground—but Bucky’s lips lowered to your ear.
“It’s fine, doll. I got you,” he whispered. He straightened up and directed his voice outwards. “I don’t really give a damn what you think about me, Zemo. Hell, you might even be right. But here’s the thing.” He pushed you back, stepping chest to chest with Zemo. “If you think I would ever even consider speaking to you after what you did to my girl, well—you’re just asking for me to beat your ass.”
He had a good few inches on Zemo, and a much more muscular body. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Bucky would win if they fought. And he would do it if you asked him to. He would do it the second you breathed the word please. But the game was starting soon, and you didn’t feel like dealing with security.
“Bucky,” you softly called. Zemo’s breath was coming out in uneven puffs. The announcers were getting the crowd warmed up. “Buck, the game’s about to start. I wanted to watch.”
You reached over and placed a delicate hand on his wrist, thumb pressing to his pulse. It was erratic. You tugged a little, but Bucky had more to say.
“You talk to her again, and I promise you, Zemo, you’re gonna regret it. Pass that along to Beck too. Since he’s the one I’d really like to have a chat with.” He pushed against Zemo’s chest, enough to send him stumbling back a few paces. He looked ready to throw up. “Oh, and coming here? Not your best move. You pissed off the entire team, messing with one of our own. Back the fuck off.”
Anger rippling off his body in waves, Bucky turned back to you and chucked his arm over your shoulders, lips pressed roughly to your temple. “He do anything to you?”
You guided him down the stairs, leaving Zemo dazed and thoroughly threatened. “Besides being his lovely self? No.”
“I’m bein’ serious, baby.”
“Me too,” you affirmed. You stopped him on the last step and cradled his face in your hands. “I’m good, Bucky. And you’re good. And Steve’s going to be so pissed because I’m pretty sure they already did the national anthem and you weren't on the field.”
You could see his anger start to fade, relaxation settling deep into his expression. It made your chest swell with pride knowing that you did that for him. That he found a home in you and he would burrow within it until he was so filled with comfort he could barely breathe. This would be the perfect time to tell him you loved him, but you knew he would just stop you.
“Ah, I don’t know. Steve’s kinda a push over when it comes to you girls. Pretty sure he’d call off a game if one of you asked.”
You giggled as he nudged his nose to your cheek. “I don’t think he has that kind of authority.”
The intercom croaked overhead, the lineup for the opposing team already starting to blare through the speakers.
“Buck!” you rushed. “You’re supposed to be on the field!” You pushed at his stomach, trying to pry him off of you.
“Okay, okay. Lemme kiss my girl first.”
He didn’t give you a chance to respond, his lips already peppering yours with quick, sweet touches. They weren’t passionate, but they were Bucky’s, and they were yours. He moved to your cheeks next, and then your nose, and then your forehead. You were a giggling mess as you tried to push him away a second time.
“You said kiss! That means one. I’m not responsible for Steve’s wrath when you miss the introductions.” Your words held absolutely no heat.
“Okay, just one more.” He kissed you. “And make sure you get to your seat.” He kissed you again. “Don’t need you trying to fist fight anymore assholes while I’m tryin’ to play ball.”
“You were the one about to fight!”
He ran past the fence line. “I love ya, doll.”
This man was trying to kill you.
“I don’t blame ‘em,” Nat scoffed. It was only the second inning, and the boys were up by three runs.
“Oh, so you’re telling me you would have fought Zemo in the middle of a crowded stadium?” you quipped back. Your feet were resting on the empty seat in front of you.
Wanda spoke up this time. “We could’ve all ganged up on him—the three of us. I bet we’d win.”
“Sure, yeah. Then we can all go to jail for assault. Fun bonding day for us girls,” you rolled your eyes.
“Y/n,” Nat deadpanned. “He pushed you out of a car.”
“Ah! He didn’t push me out of a car. Beck did.”
“Oh, wonderful! We can kill both of them.”
“No, no, I agree with her.” Wanda casually tossed a pretzel into her mouth. “Death for both.”
You groaned. No one was happy about what happened that night. You were pretty sure once Bucky told the guys Zemo had shown up, there was going to be a picture of the guy pinned to the security desk with the word BANNED in bolded red letters. Either that or they were going to make Peter keep lookout while he was on the bench.
But in all honesty, you were more than fine at this point. That party, while wholly one of the worst nights of your life, had brought you to something you’d never take back. It brought you Bucky—the clarity of who he was now.
It brought you his laugh when he called you at night and his warmth when he held you as it rained. It brought you his softness and his anger and his love. It brought you his family; his Ma’s melodic voice as she greeted you in her doorway and his Pa’s rough pat on the back. But most of all, it just brought you to him.
And you weren’t sure what it was going to take for him to let you say you loved him, but you were willing to wait. Because this Bucky you had found, he was worth the wait.
“Well,” you sighed. “He left. So there won’t be any killing today. Sorry, ladies.”
They both whined, throwing their heads back in dramatics, and you had to laugh. Not only at them, but just in joy. It felt like everything was good. Before all this—before Bucky—you were content. You had your friends, and school, and you found joy in the small things. You liked that the dining hall always had enough of your favorite juice, and the library had this corner that you loved to study in, and sometimes the wind blew just right and you could hear the trees rustle from your dorm.
But after Bucky, it was as if everything was amplified. He would join you in that corner of the library and suddenly you had no idea how you’d been there alone before; how you hadn’t thought it the most dull place on campus without his bright smile and constant pestering.
And the trees still rustled, but now they were accompanied by Bucky’s soft breath in your ear, lulling you to sleep. You didn’t know how you had missed it before—how the trees had sounded full before him.
Of course, there was the topic of the juice. The stupid truth you were made privvy to that, no, the dining hall didn’t always have it. Bucky just made sure it did. For you. Always for you.
So you had to sit there at your boyfriend's baseball game and laugh with your friends because your life felt so perfect. You didn’t care if a pair of rich low-lives laughed at you behind closed doors, because your doors held love and warmth and Bucky. And you knew he felt the same way.
“Hey, you know if they’re playing the guys’ press videos today? I think I heard Fury mention it last week,” Wanda asked.
“Hm, I’m not sure. We’re closing in on the playoffs, so maybe.” Nat had that glint in her eye again; the glint that meant she knew something.
You shuffled back in your seat. You hadn’t watched the press tapes this year. They were in production in the midst of your fight with Bucky, and you hardly wanted to watch a video of him at the time. The videos were mostly superficial anyway; just a collection of their goals for the future and what they thought their strengths and weaknesses were that year.
Although Bucky always found a way to make his videos about his party life somehow.
You hoped his feelings were far enough along to have not done that again this year.
Music blasted through the speakers, startling you into dropping your drink onto the stadium floor. “What the hell?”
Peter Parker’s face was then plastered on the jumbotron—some professional picture along with his name and position on the bottom. A video played next. He looked very uncomfortable.
“I think I just wanna try my best, you know? Being with such a great team can be a little scary, but I’m looking forward to carrying my weight. I’ve never dropped a ball! They stick to me like glue.”
So they were playing the press videos today.
“God, do you think they could’ve done without the music? I’m going to have this ringing in my ear for days,” you complained.
Nat quickly shushed you. “I’m trying to watch.”
You grumbled back, still lightly massaging your ear. “You were literally there. You already know what they all said.”
She shushed you again, this time accompanied by Wanda.
“Whatever you jerks. I’ll just be deaf then.”
Tony’s video went next. He talked about his innovation being a contribution to the team and how he was the best. The usual. Then Pietro went, then Sam. Thor’s video made you laugh a little; his tie was askew and he looked cheerful as ever.
“I know this year we will crush our enemies—sorry, our opponents. I have been told to call them that. But it does not matter what we call them, because they will be crushed anyway! I will do so myself.”
A few other players went next, each video played between innings as the teams switched off. Bucky had glanced up at you a few times, sending you a wink or one of his smiles. Each time it sent heat up through your stomach and into your chest. You didn’t think you would ever get used to him looking at you like that.
He had been doing it for a while though. You just hadn’t noticed.
Steve’s video seemed very planned out and practiced—ever the captain—although you knew he probably thought of his words on the spot. He talked about their actual stats instead of his opinions, and then highlighted each of his teammates' assets that they would be bringing to the table.
At the end, he signed off with a quick “and of course, I do it all for my best girl.” Nat scoffed—like she did every year—but you could see the slight blush on her cheeks. She was a softie underneath all that Russian spy nonsense.
The next inning dragged on forever. Maybe it wasn’t actually long, but since you knew Bucky’s video was next, it felt like a century. Part of you was worried it would be bad again; that you would have to endure another stupid video about how he was “spending his time wisely” and “keeping his options open”, but you remembered how adamant he had been that you watched it. It couldn’t be bad then, right?
The music startled you again, and this time you met Bucky’s eyes as he was tossing his helmet off in the dugout. He gave you a bashful smile; he obviously knew it was his turn. Nat slapped you in the arm, pulling your gaze from Bucky’s just to see him again on the big screen.
The Bucky on the screen looked a little ragged. You could remember him looking like that during the days you refused to talk to him—tired, pale, maybe a little hopeless. But this Bucky had a bit of determination to him as well. Like he was certain about something.
“Well, I mean this team’s always got it on lock. We got a great coach behind us, a great captain. As long as we put our heads together and do what we always do, the season’s ours.”
The obligatory questions first. He always answered those the same.
“I think Parker’s a great new addition. Kid’s quick and weirdly agile. I’m excited to work with him.”
You heard a crash from the dugout, and could make out an excited “you really mean that?”. That was followed by an “alright, kid, don’t make me take it back.”
You smiled as a new question displayed on the screen. You usually hated this one.
“I know what you guys all expect me to say, ‘cause I say the same thing every year, right? Hang out and live life to the fullest. Maybe get a little crazy on the weekends—within reason,” he covered.
He obviously couldn’t outright talk about his habits in front of the entire school. Your heart dipped a little. It seemed like the same answer as usual, just maybe a little jaded this time.
The team started to make their way onto the field in front of you. Bucky threw the first few practice pitches; they were a little shaky.
“This year’s a little different. Sorta met this girl—or really, have known this girl—and she’s turned me around I guess. Wanna start doin’ things different for her. Uh, so this one really goes out to her. I bet my playing will be better this season because of her, and maybe she’ll stick around and make it better in the future too. You know, when I go pro.”
You felt a delighted laugh bubble up in your chest. The answer was messy and awkward, but it was also during the most unstable period of your relationship and yet he still said all of that knowing it would be broadcasted in front of thousands of people.
You almost couldn’t breathe past the feeling in your throat. You weren’t sure if it was a sob or a laugh, but the surprise surging through your body wouldn’t allow either to come out. The smile on your face didn’t register as you turned your head down to the field.
Bucky was avoiding eye contact apparently. He still had a good few minutes until the other team was ready to bat, but he resigned himself to throwing pitches he definitely didn’t need to be throwing and digging his toe into the dirt.
With this feeling in your chest, that just wouldn’t do.
You bounded down the few steps leading to the fence and leaned against it, fingers gripping between metal.
“James!” you called.
He whipped his head around quick enough to give him whiplash. He looked like he was in trouble. “Yeah, doll?”
“Come here.” The first few people in the stands could definitely hear you two shouting at each other. You didn’t really care.
He jogged over with a hesitant smile on his face. You couldn’t understand why he would be nervous. You’d spent the last part of forever being in love with him and he’d practically reciprocated it in front of all these people.
He met your fingers through the fence. “You mad at me?”
“No,” you laughed. The smile on your face hurt. “No, I love you.”
And he could see it then—that you needed to say it so bad you were bursting. He could see the smile and the joy in your eyes and the way you seemed to just glow in front of him. So he let you say it. He let you say it and he let your fingers grip at his knuckles through the fence as he dropped down further and slotted a kiss to your lips through grated metal.
It was a bruising kiss; separated by fence, but even more, separated by lips that just couldn’t stay in place. He kept laughing against you and you kept trying to tell him you loved him again. But either way, it was a kiss neither of you would ever forget.
Because it was a kiss that told you it was worth it. That you and Bucky were worth it and that you were meant to last. Even through the chain-link fence at the baseball stadium.
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A Taste for Older Men [part ii]
summary: bucky comes over to watch a game with y/n’s father. alone in her room and still consumed by her previous conversation with him, y/n drowns in wicked thoughts of bucky.
pairing: dbf!bucky x reader
word count: 1.7k+
warnings: age gap [reader is around 22 & bucky is 39]; masturbation & toys; getting caught sticky fingered; more sexual tension bc apparently i can’t stop
a/n: y’all i feel so warm and fuzzy from the amazing response i've received for part i of this fic. you are AMAZING :3
PART I / PART III / PART IV
It was just before 7pm when a knock on the front door snatched Y/N back to reality.
Alone and surrounded by cardboard boxes, Y/N lay sprawled out across her bed with nothing but a movie for company. Her room was dim; the only light being the twinkling orange fairy lights on her walls, a cinnamon candle burning on her old computer desk.
The sound of the front door opening and closing was followed by happy greetings and something about a game which was scheduled for the night. She heard her father ask if he wanted a beer, and then his voice calling back that he would love one.
Y/N sighed, slamming her laptop closed and rolling over onto her back. Of course he was here. Where else would he be on the night of the most important game of the season if not at her house, hanging out with her freaking father?
She was still consumed with thoughts of their recent conversation; thoughts about the shift in energy between them, the way he made that chancy remark about the what ifs of their hypothetical intimacy. His words haunted her day and night and even after several days, she couldn’t get the images out of her head. She was hooked; she was curious, and she was eager to see him again.
Y/N yearned for a closeness to him that she could only describe as juvenile. She wanted to see his face, to catch a glimpse of his muscles working beneath the fabric of his shirt, to hear that deep voice which made her feel like there was chocolate melting on her tongue. She craved his presence and his touch. She ached for all things him.
Y/N rubbed her face in exasperation as she pushed herself up from her bed and padded towards the door. She felt that familiar feeling of nervousness budding within her as she made her way down the stairs. She knew he was there; his voice drifting down the hall and filling her with a sense of excitement; a childish giddiness to see him again.
Clad in nothing but some tiny silky pyjamas, Y/N pushed open the door to the kitchen and stepped inside. All heads turned towards her; her mom, her dad, the family dog and finally, Bucky.
She tried not to look at him, and to appear as indifferent to his presence as she possibly could, but the undeniable static which filled every room he walked into made it difficult to feign nonchalance. There existed an inexplicable tension between them, a feeling of electricity which made the hairs rise on her arms. The feeling of his blue eyes regarding her curiously from across the room was something she hadn’t experienced before; it made her heart beat more rapidly inside her chest and her face heat up.
There was a friendly smile across his face, a green bottle of beer already in his hand, broad shoulders hidden beneath a rugged navy over shirt.
“Feeling better today, sweetheart?”
Y/N shrugged her shoulders and pulled open the fridge to take out a carton of orange juice. She ignored the pet name and said nothing as she grabbed a glass, slowly filling it to the brim.
“She’s miserable,” Y/N’s mom decided to answer for her, and the younger girl couldn’t help but shoot her an annoyed look. “She needs to get back on the dating scene ASAP to get her mind off everything. Bucky, maybe you know some nice boys close to Y/N’s age that she could meet?”
Bucky only chuckled at the question, then his eyes travelled to where Y/N was standing by the island, all short silky pyjamas and messy hair. The corner of his lips curved up into a tiny knowing smile, like his next words were some little secret that only the two of them were onto.
“I think a nice boy Y/N’s age is the last thing she needs right now.” His voice was low, eyes on hers, and Y/N’s heart thumped rapidly at the provocation in his tone. There was something sinister about it; threatening almost. She wondered if her secret was safe with him.
“I’ll be up in my room if anyone needs me,” she announced quietly, shooting Bucky one last look before grabbing her glass of orange juice and turning back towards the stairs.
The exchange suddenly forgotten, the conversation immediately turned to the game and Y/N rolled her eyes as she slowly made her way towards her room. She closed the door behind her, set her glass down onto her bedside and plopped down onto the bed with a thump.
That knowing smirk on his face was etched into her eyelids and every time she closed her eyes, he was right there, mocking her. Although infuriating, she couldn’t help but think it was seductive; the way they had their own little joke that no one else was in on, a dirty little joke about her desires and fantasies about him.
She lay on her bed for what had to be at least twenty minutes, that fucking smirk replaying inside her head over and over again. The way his eyes darkened as he took in what she was wearing; the tiny shorts and the lack of bra; a little glance when her father wasn’t watching.
She hoped that he was thinking about her the same way she was thinking about him, her mind running wild with wicked and depraved possibilities. There was no hiding it; the man gave her butterflies and made her feral. It was a lethal combination that had her yearning for more of him.
Eventually, overwhelmed and drowning in thoughts of Bucky, Y/N bit her lip and ran her hand down her front, her fingers skimming her chest and stomach, coming to a halt at the waistband of her shorts. She closed her eyes and reached delicately beneath, grazing her pubic bone and her clit before reaching down to the place which ached painfully for a release only he could bring along. She almost gasped at how wet she was, her fingers coming away glistening with slick.
Quietly, she hooked her fingers around the waistband of her shorts and tugged them down her legs, the cold air making her throb for sweet fulfilment. She didn’t waste any time, reaching into her bedside drawer and pulling out her reliable vibrator, the silicone soft in her hand, the vibrations deep and rumbly when she switched them on.
No lubrication was needed, her arousal more than enough to slip the silicone toy inside. She moaned quietly at the delicious stretch and squeezed her eyes shut, imagining it was Bucky sinking his cock into her pulsating heat. She was so fucking turned on, her thoughts running berserk with images of him, the filthy, obscene things he would do to her.
She wasn’t even thinking about the movement of her hands, furiously thrusting the toy in and out of her cunt, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure all throughout her abdomen, her muscles contracting with satisfaction. Y/N was on cloud nine; her fingers sinking into her mouth, coming away dripping with saliva and getting to work on her swollen clit. The combined stimulation of the rough massage on her little bundle of nerves, the vibrations coursing through her and the delicious stretch had her gasping for air, frantic for a release.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him. She craved the feeling of his skin on hers, his hot mouth on her neck, fingers toying with her nipples. There were so many pornographic images before her eyes; him taking her in his car, in her old apartment, on her childhood bed. Thoughts of his cock in her mouth, his hand around her throat, or his tongue on her clit. She imagined the dirty words, the things he would say to spur her on, his voice low and seductive, tugging at her earlobe with his teeth until she’d beg for him, all of him. She pictured herself grinding down onto his muscular thighs, his fingers digging furiously into her needy cunt.
It was mind-dizzying.
She finished suddenly, her walls pulsating and clenching around the toy still vibrating in her pussy, her clit sore and overstimulated from the harsh assault. Her teeth dug into her lip and her chest heaved in desperation, hips lifting from the mattress for more.
It lasted only seconds, and when it was done, she slipped the toy out and let it fall to the sheets beside her. Only partially satisfied with the mediocre orgasm, she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling above her. She needed more.
Exasperated, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, and there he stood, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He had that smirk on again, the same one he had sent her in the kitchen, but his eyes were darker now, drinking in the sight of her. There was a hint of amusement in the blue of his eyes, arrogance radiating from his skin like heat.
Y/N gulped audibly, suddenly embarrassed. “How long have you been standing there?”
She squeezed her thighs together, attempting to cover herself from his eyes, and felt her cheeks heating up at being caught in such a compromising position.
“Since I was walking to the bathroom and I heard you call my name,” he replied, his voice low to ensure her parents wouldn’t hear him downstairs. He licked his lips seductively, a ghost of a smile present. “Long enough.”
“You should have knocked.”
He chuckled then, all coy grin and his eyes glinting with a combination of hubris and mischief.
“I did knock. You were just too busy fucking yourself on your little toy to notice.”
He remained by the door, eyes still trained upon her half naked figure, her wild hair and reddened cheeks. The satisfied, knowing smile across his face was nothing short of torment.
“I admit, I enjoyed the show,” he told her, quietly, eyes still trained on her disheveled state. “Too bad your toy was not enough to make you scream. Now that would have been something to witness.”
Y/N said nothing, too stunned by his boldness to form a coherent sentence. She only watched him stand there, the arrogance and satisfaction dripping from his skin.
He turned towards the door, but stopped in his tracks right before exiting and looked at her again. There was a certain level of greed in the way his eyes watched her.
“Next time,” he began softly, gauging her expression and smiling knowingly when she clenched her thighs again. “Next time, let me know if you need some help. All you have to do is ask.”
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