#bucky barnes imagine
im seeing something i like
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Little bit o' smut, needy, whiny Bucky
A/N: Just a little something until I get back to my laptop. No minors.
“I have to go,” you say, gently shaking off the vibranium hand around your ankle. Laughter bubbling up when he only groans in response.
Bending over you grab your shirt from under the kitchen chair, you start to pull it on, then a dull thud has you turning your head, “Did you-did you just kick the floor?”
Bucky glares up at you with baleful eyes. “Maybe.”
Clutching the wrinkled shirt to your bare chest, you roll your eyes at the pouting super soldier. “Bucky, we spent all weekend together-“ You start, ignoring his loud huff. “-I promised my friends that I would go out for one drink and I....”
You swallow, your mouth going dry as you watch him pull his cock out of tight black briefs. “Bucky, stop it.” you finish weakly.
He tilts his chin up, his ocean blue eyes ensnaring yours and he moans your name, it’s sweet and sinful, as if he’s tasting it, tasting you with each slow swipe of tongue across his bottom lip. Then you remember he is and your knees nearly buckle as he wipes your slick from his chin and smears it over his cock.
He’s so filthy.
Bucky twists his hand around his shaft, precum dripping down from the red, swollen tip.
And he moans your name again.
Louder, vulgar sounds emitting from his chest, his hips rutting into his palm. Thick, long fingers laced around his throbbing cock. “You’re really gonna leave me, Plum.”
You want to tear your eyes away but you can’t. Not with his back arching off the ground, soft grunts mingled with your name filling the early morning air. You bite back a needy gasp when he lets his cock go, fisting his hands at his sides. “I can’t finish,” he gazes up at you, a deep wrinkle forming between his furrowed brows.
Bucky reaches out for you. “My hand isn’t as good as your pussy.” Oh fuck, the way he says that has you trembling. “I need you Plum, need your tight wet warm pussy around my cock.” He doesn’t play fair at all, you’re practically preening at his praise. “You feel so good, doll, so fucking good, please don’t leave me.”
Bucky stretches his legs out, patting his thighs. “Why don’t you let me show you how fucking good you feel Plum?”
You don’t realize you were walking back to him, drawn back into his orbit with each filthy word until he sat up, hands smoothing up your thighs, his breath washing over your glistening cunt before he tugs you down over him.
“Oh Buc-,” you cry out as he pushes you down, down “just a little more plum there you go, until his thick throbbing cock is buried in you, the first stretch knocking your breath out of your chest until you’re panting.
Bucky wraps his arms around your back, pulling you into his warm chest. “Now I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll never think about leaving me again.”
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AGHG I NEED THISSS
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pairing: bucky barnes x enhanced!reader
summary: natasha likes to touch bucky's dog tags and bucky, well, he just wants to know why his favorite girl isn't talking to him.
They aren’t talking.
Bucky’s not sure why though because you guys were good. Great even. Always talking, laughing, and touching. A few things Bucky thought he wouldn’t be good at anymore, scared of more like, but he was good at it with you.
So why were you so distant? It wasn’t like you to shut him out.
“Did you drink all the coffee again, Barton? Have a death wish or something?” Tony commented.
Bucky ignored him — him and the team as they bickered over breakfast as usual. Instead, he sat on the couch, waited for you to come out and have breakfast with him.
Natasha came over and sat beside him. They made small talk until you emerged from your room.
Your hair was still messy, smile still soft, and you were drowning in clothes. Bucky’s heart skipped a few beats. He might of looked too excited to see you or had some look on his face because you ignored him and took a seat at the table instead.
“Wanna sit on my lap, Y/N? I know you must be tired of Barnes over there,” Sam flirted.
You laughed, shaking your head. Bucky wanted to punch the wall because sitting on his lap was your thing. Your morning, having breakfast, and sitting on his lap thing. His favorite part of the day thing.
It didn’t help that later that day when he walked into the training room, you walked out.
You took one glance at him and walked out.
Bucky was getting frustrated.
And it didn’t seem to stop. When the team came together for their usual hike, you took a spot next to Sam and walked next to him until you reached the top. Bucky stayed close behind and clenched his fists when Sam made a stupid joke to make you laugh.
Bucky was getting really, really frustrated.
He thought maybe when he leaned down to tie your shoelaces that some of the tension would go away, that he would feel better.
“Got it, sweetheart. Lift your foot up for me.”
“I can tie it myself; you know?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Y/N,” he mocked.
You rolled your eyes.
“Keep your hand on my shoulder or you’ll fall.”
“Y/N,” he sternly said. “I know you’re mad at me, but you can’t walk around like this. Just hold on to me.”
“You’re taking a long time and I can heal if…,” you mumbled. “and I’m not mad at you.”
You glared at him, “I’m not, Buck.”
Bucky sighed. “Seems like you are, and I know you are because I know you. Came to your room last night and it was locked. F.R.I.D.A.Y said you didn’t want to see anyone.”
“Had a nightmare?”
“Couldn’t sleep without you.”
You almost responded, almost, but Natasha came, and you didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t in fact, so you pulled away and walked away.
Bucky thinks he’s finally figured it out.
It was movie night the next time Bucky saw you and he’s wondered if you’ve asked F.R.I.D.A.Y for new routes so you could avoid him. Bucky was slowly losing his mind and he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t, so when you walked out of the room and headed to kitchen, he decided to follow.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m getting popcorn.”
“Y/N,” Bucky breathed out. “I’m being serious.”
“Bucky, I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Well, I want to talk about— where are you going? Can you just stop — “
Bucky lifted you up and placed you on the kitchen counter. Placed himself right between your legs so you couldn’t move.
“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he placed his forehead on yours. “We haven’t talked in weeks. Did I do something wrong? Is it Natasha?”
“No. No, why would you think that?”
Bucky stared at you. God, he’s missed you — your eyes, your hands and your touch. Why wouldn’t you touch him? You always did and now…now it had been so long since he felt it, you, and he missed it. He missed how good it felt, how you felt against him.
You started playing with his dog tags.
Bucky swears his heart stops beating for a second. Swears he’s stopped breathing too because you weren’t touching him, no, but you were touching a part of him that meant a whole deal to him.
“Y/N, I — "
“Buck, you’re missing the movie. Steve’s about to have a oh— "Natasha interrupted.
You released your hand from the chain, “We should go.”
“Bucky, we need to go. Please let me go.”
He hated that he did, and he thought about it for the next week, till he was on his next mission. Maybe that’s why he was so distant with the team, why he didn’t pay attention to the briefing and Steve’s speech. He didn’t care, he didn’t.
It showed on the field.
Steve was mad.
“Why did Steve just tell me that you didn’t listen to the plan? That you ran into open fire? Let some guy punch you?”
Bucky didn’t respond to you. Just took a spot on the empty clinic chair.
“Is that what we’re doing now, Buck? Letting people punch us?”
Bucky shut his eyes and opened them back up to look at you. My God, you looked so angry. His girl was so angry at him.
Your hands were on his wounds in seconds and in seconds, Bucky was healed and, in more places, than just the parts that were beaten or bruised. You always reached more places than anyone else could, healed more parts of him than anyone else could.
“Are you going to talk to me?” You muttered, pressing your hand against his chest. “Buck?”
You slowly removed your hand, but Bucky grabbed it and placed right back on his chest.
“Just keep touching me, Y/N.”
You paused. Bucky watched as you got more red.
“Keep touching you? I thought you never wanted me to use my powers on you, thought the serum could heal it all. Are you even going to tell me what happened?" your voice was strong. "Did you really let this guy punch you? Beat you purple? Are you kidding, James? How could you let him?”
“How could you not talk to me?”
That shut you up. Bucky didn’t know if you understood what he was trying to say, hoped that you did because he really didn’t want to explain it — didn’t want to explain that he let himself get punched and beaten to have your hands on him.
“Never again, Buck. Never let anyone hurt you like this again.”
“Never not talk to me,” he admitted and pulled you onto his lap. His hands stayed on your hips, while your legs dangled off his lap.
You continued to place your hands on his wounded parts.
“She’s always near you.”
“Yeah…yeah and she’s always touching you,” you placed your hands on his dog tags. “Touching these and I know — I know how much they mean to you. How important they are, and you’ve never let anyone but....but”
“But you,” he finished, moving some strands of your hair away from your face. “Never let anyone but you touch them.”
“Never noticed. Too busy focusing on you.”
You shook your head.
Then you heard footsteps and out of corner of your eye, you saw that bright red hair and black bodysuit approach you and you almost got up — almost, but Bucky held your hips. Kept you in place and you heard him tell Natasha that he was busy, that he was doing something important.
You heard her walk out.
Then you wanted to say something, anything. Anything to get out of this situation, anything to fix all those red and purple spots on his body. Just anything, but you couldn’t. Walking away would’ve been so much easier.
“She’s nothing compared to you, sweetheart,” he confessed. “Nothing, okay? You’re everything.”
“Yeah, but — “
Then Bucky slipped off his dog tags and placed them around your neck.
“Everything,” he repeated.
You’re sure your world stopped. He was so good at making you speechless, always had been. Sometimes you wondered if he was made just to make you speechless. His lip was still a little busted and you reached up and ran your thumb across it, healed it in seconds.
“Promise you won’t do this again?”
“Promise you’ll talk to me?”
“Yeah,” you looked up at him, ran your hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’ll talk to you.”
No, he was made to be loved by you.
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ribs , bucky barnes
— (fem!avenger!reader x avenger!bucky)
summary; When Bucky arrives at the compound after years of loneliness, the person he finds comfort in is you.
warnings; fluff, angst, kissing, fools falling for each other, mentions of trauma, some medical stuff, reader likes to steal things.
word count; 2,037
a/n; okay, i had so much fun writing this piece, it’s my baby. enjoy <3 - stellie
“Hey,” Steve lightly knocked on your open door.
“You’re back,” you set your copy of Frankenstein to the side. It had been a gift from Banner for your birthday.
Steve leaned his broad frame against the wall. “I need you to stay up here for awhile, we brought him back.”
There were a lot of him’s that Steve could have brought back. Hostages, fugitives, ghosts that the government had long forgotten.
“Bucky,” he clarified. “He’s in medical.”
You knew who Bucky was. Former sergeant of the 107th, Steve’s best friend, and recovering Hydra assassin, among other things.
Steve and Sam had been looking for him for months, scrambling and chasing after him to get him to the compound. You were convinced that Bucky would consistently outrun the two for as long as he could, and the government would just catch him first.
“Is he here legally? He’s a wanted criminal,” you looked at Steve like he had five heads.
“Might’ve pulled some strings,” he shrugged. “Just don’t come out of your room, he’s unstable.”
Were they always going to treat you like you couldn’t handle anything around here?
“Rogers,” you huffed as he began to walk out. “I have some of the best medical knowledge in the compound, and you’re makin’ me sit here?”
“Yup,” his feet padded softly across the floor, and you watched him disappear down the stairs.
You flopped onto the bed like a starfish, making a mental list of things you could do to entertain yourself. Nothing really, that was your answer. You should be down there helping the medical team with any wounds Bucky may have, but Steve will scold you silly for leaving your room as soon as he gets the chance.
Well... Steve would get over it.
Thank god you were a trained spy, more or less, because the compound was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Medical would be crowded when you walked in, you’d bet the knife you stole from Nat’s collection that Bucky was strapped down to a bed as someone tried to bandage his nasty cuts.
Your instincts proved right.
Bucky was groaning, calling out for something you didn’t understand, legs and arms strapped down. He’s unstable, that’s what Steve said. Steve has a hand on Bucky’s shoulder in a weak attempt to comfort him as the medical personnel rid him of the caked dirt and blood on his skin.
You should be slapped over the face for being so curious, but Bucky has always fascinated you. Sam is in the corner of the the room with his head down, and you remember looking over Bucky’s records with him late at night, or that trip to the Smithsonian to see if you could catch Bucky lurking at his own memorial.
Something about Bucky was beautiful. Broken, but still beautiful. You can’t register it now as hot tears streak down his face, but it clicked with you when you read about him, or when Steve told stories.
“What did I tell you?” Suddenly Steve was stood over you, arms crossed.
“Oh... Captain,” you shoved your hands in the pockets of your hoodie. “I was just—“
Bucky groaned and cried out in pain. Sam tried to do what Steve had done, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. He didn’t seem like the touchy-feely type.
“He could lash out at you,” Steve blocked your view of the hospital bed. “He doesn’t know who you are.”
“So? I’m the only person that can really help with his stitches. He’s hurting.”
“Fine,” Steve said through gritted teeth. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
You walked through the small crowd of nurses tending to Bucky, and naturally, they let you through. A prodigy, that’s the word they liked to throw around, with an organic understanding of human anatomy. The whole compound was surprised you had never gone to med school, and that you just preferred to play checkers with Wanda or help Sam on a mission.
“It’s okay,” you whispered, observing the deep gash down the inside of his right arm. “Can I touch you?”
Bucky thrashed around again, and Sam backed away. “Y/N, he’s having a moment. I wouldn’t go near him.”
“Sam, I have to seal that up,” you disregarded the danger you were in. “He’ll get an infection.”
The infamous Winter Soldier, and he just stared up at you with glassy blue eyes and fearful expression. He mumbled incoherent things under his breath, you wanted nothing more than to understand him.
It seemed like he hadn’t been understood in an awfully long time.
You grabbed all your things from the table to quickly mend him, holding a bandage between your teeth. He fought you, his metal arm tearing one of the restraints, but Bucky eventually let up.
“Relax, Buck,” Steve urged him from behind you.
“All done,” you smile and step away. “Everything else looks fine, you can handle it?”
Steve simply nodded, and you went back to your room.
A week had passed by since Steve brought Bucky to the compound. The air got cold and it rained almost everyday, which meant morning runs were no longer on your daily agenda.
You hadn’t seen Bucky come out of his room. It wasn’t surprising, Sam mumbled a few things here and there about him having a hard time adjusting, that he still got erratic. Being used as a human weapon for over half a century will do that to you.
Being on a mission would’ve been ideal right now. You’re bored in the compound, like a sad princess in her ivory tower. A knock on your door stirred you out of your haze.
“It’s open,” you flipped to the next page of your book. It’s about surgical history, you figured the medical team downstairs wouldn’t miss it from their decorative bookshelf.
Bucky stood in your doorway, looking slightly less upset than the last time you saw him.
“Steve told me this was your room,” he swallowed. “I’m across the hall.”
“I know,” you stared at him for a bit too long. It was strange, hearing him speak.
He pulled his shirt sleeve up, showing you the stitches you had made not long ago. “Can you check these?”
“Of course,” you patted the space on the mattress beside you. “Sit for me.”
Bucky sat down, eyeing his arm where the stitches were. His dark hair fell in his face, and you wanted so badly to push it behind his ears, to see him.
You checked the area around the stitches, making sure they were all intact and that nothing was infected. You had told Steve to make sure Bucky puts Neosporin around the wound every night, and it looked like he had been doing just that.
“Looks fine,” you took your hand away from his arm. “I can take them out soon.”
“Thanks,” he pulled his sleeve back in place. “I hope I didn’t bother you.”
“Not at all,” god, the way you wanted to reach out and touch him.
Bucky’s eyes shifted to yours, glimmering blue.
“When can I come back? For you to take them out?” He asked.
You let out a breath. “Three days.”
He stayed like that for awhile, just looking at you. Maybe he’s searching for something, perhaps fear. You’re not afraid of him.
Your hand moved to his face. That could be considered a calculated mistake. Bucky flinched, his metal hand balling in a tight fist. You brushed the long hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his left ear.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” you whispered.
His face warmed up a little bit. “What if I hurt you first?”
“I’ll try and calm you down. I’m not hurting you back.”
“That’s a bad idea.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you sighed.
Bucky nuzzled into your hand that was cupping his jaw. “I should go back to my room.”
“You can stay.”
No one knew why you and Bucky held hands all the time, so no one said anything.
Steve thought he had the right to know, and that maybe he could press his best friend for some answers. Was it a thing? No, you did it for solace. Bucky liked having something to hold.
Bucky Barnes had been a constant in your life for a few weeks. He enjoyed your company just as much as you enjoyed his, it probably had something to do with your lone wolf personalities. You were happy to be a part of his recovery, even if you found he didn’t say much.
“They healed really nice,” you ran a finger over where his stitches used to be.
His eyes looked more innocent than you’ve ever seen before. He was focusing on not flinching, you knew that. Bucky was still getting used to you touching him so often.
“If I ever need them again,” he squeezed your hand in his. “Can you do it for me up here?”
You nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t like seeing you strapped down to that bed.”
He wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. If he ever got treated like that again, you’d lose your mind.
“Why aren’t you a doctor?” Bucky squinted at you in curiosity.
“I wanted to be a surgeon,” you answered. “But being a spy paid more, I guess. Now I’m here.”
He didn’t have a counter for that, just listened. You liked that about him, he’s a good listener. He listened to you read books aloud so he could fall asleep to the sound of your voice, he listened to you talk about your favorite things even though he didn’t always understand them.
When Bucky first came to the compound, he was covered in bruises and cuts. Now, almost a month later, he looked a lot more at peace, physically and mentally. It’s like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
“It feels nice, being here with you,” his metal hand came up to stroke your cheek. “I was thinkin’ about staying locked in my room forever.”
You chuckled. “You’ll get used to everyone else.”
Something inside you ached. You just wanted to be close to him. There was that pang of guilt inside of you, telling you no, that he’d get scared if you did such a thing and it would be all your fault for wrecking his progress.
You moved closer to him so your nose was touching his. “I kinda hope that I’m your favorite.”
“You are,” he hummed, lips brushing against yours and giggling. “Don’t tell Steve.”
There’s nothing you’d rather do than hold him for the rest of your life when he giggles. It’s the most precious thing on earth, he’s letting himself be free.
“Bucky,” you buried the side of your face into your pillow. “Are you feeling okay?”
No answer, just his chapped lips pressed to yours. It felt inexperienced and static, but butterflies filled your stomach nonetheless.
“I wanted to do that with you,” he admitted.
You brought him back into a deeper kiss, still chaste, but more like what you believed he was striving for. He vaguely remembers the feeling of someone’s lips, back in the forties. His body is perfect, molding against yours like you were made for each other.
It’s so nice and warm that your toes curl a bit. The kind of long, sweet kiss that makes your brain reduce to mush, that’s what it was. You really don’t want to come up for air, he is air, that’s what you think.
You did eventually have to breathe, and you just held him for awhile. You stared at him too, shamelessly. That’s a perk of getting to be alone with Bucky.
“Thanks for letting me in here,” you poked at his chest.
He didn’t understand. “Where?”
“That big heart of yours,” you blushed.
Bucky wrapped his big arms around you tighter. He wanted to cry, or melt, but in a good way. He was still working on conveying his emotions. “Thanks for being my friend.”
“I don’t think we’re just friends anymore.”
A goofy smile spread across his face, his eyes crinkling at the sides. There was nothing more beautiful in the entire universe.
And he’s in your arms.
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This Bucky with this Steve.....
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Pierced Through and Through
Summary: Bucky has planned the perfect vacation. All he has to do is get through the metal detectors without revealing his secret.
Pairing: TFAWS Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 3.5K
Warnings: Smut, exhibitionism, praise kink, piercing kink (Bucky has brand new c*ck piercing), mile high club public sex, airplane bathroom sex, oral (m receiving), p*ssy slapping, dirty talk,, dom/sub dynamics, begging kink, choking kink, Minors DNI
A/N: Beta’d by the wonderful @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog and @whisperlullaby and an entry for her challenge! All mistakes are my own.
Do not copy, translate, reproduce, rewrite or repost any of my works. Comments, likes and reblogs are welcome and cherished. By hitting read more, you agree that you are 18 and older.
Bucky Barnes is a romantic, you blame it on his 1940s upbringing. It’s not unusual for you to come home to flowers, chocolates, and oh his home-cooked meals. Nothing like seeing him, all six feet of thick ripped muscles, standing in front of the stove wearing nothing but an apron, holding up a spoon dripping with fragrant marinara sauce, telling you to open wide and swallow like the good girl you are.
For the past week, he’s been acting strange, hiding his laptop whenever you wander into the room.
He keeps staring at you to the point where you’re looking down at yourself, wondering if you spilled something. Each time he follows up with his signature smirk, pure lust in his deep blue eyes. He’s always insatiable but something is different, he’s holding back something from you, often distracting you with mind blowing sex, in fact, the only warning you get before he’s on you, in you, is his bottom lip catching between a flash of pearly white teeth.
When he announced the vacation it all made sense, his odd behavior, his increased libido. He’s been thinking about all the filthy things he’s going to do to you in another country.
And you are ready for it.
The ride to the airport is peaceful, the sky shades of dark azure and teals, the crescent moon visible to your left. The early morning traffic is light, so you arrive earlier than expected. While it pained you to get up before the sunrise, you have to admit it’s worth it to not deal with crowds of people. His hand, heavy and warm, rests on your thigh as he pulls into the lot.
“You can hold my hand or nothing at all.” He says, giving you a pointed look when you try to take your bag from the backseat. With a giggle, you lace your fingers between his as he shoulders all of the suitcases and bags in one arm. The airport buzzes with activity, people milling about, shops preparing for the rush in an hour or two. You squeeze his hand with excitement the closer you get to the check-in point.
Soon you’ll be on a tropical island with nothing but him, drinks, and the sand. Nothing between you but the salt tinged breeze and the sun.
Bucky’s steps falter when you near the terminal, ahead of you the airport security waving people through, checking belongings.
“You okay?” you ask when he hesitates, his Adam’s apple bobbing twice, his eyes flitting across the space. Bucky smiles briefly before setting the bags down in the grey bins.
You go through the metal detector first and turn to wait for your bags to travel down the conveyer belt.
He follows, setting off the alarm.
He’s never done that before, not since he has had the upgraded arm.
“Sorry, Sergeant Barnes, protocol.” The TSA agent apologizes before he picks up the thin black wand, waving it over his body.
You watch him, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Bucky sighs, his eyes closing. He seems oddly resigned. Your brows furrow when you see sweat bead along the crown of his forehead.
Bucky feels the back of his neck becoming hot, a flush creeping up his chest. He averts his eyes, aware that you’re looking at him, his breathing becoming heavier, more noticeable. The agent pauses at his abdomen, “Are you alright, sir?”
Bucky attempts a smile, the grimace putting you and the agent on edge. The wand dips lower.
The loud piercing sound reaches your ears, at first you assume it’s because of his belt. But then you remember Bucky isn’t wearing a belt.
He’s wearing loose gray sweatpants because you told him he should be comfortable for the trip.
The wand shifts back up. Beep. Right over his dick. The agent brings it back up and down. Beep.
You take a step forward as the agent steps backward.
You speak in unison. Bucky’s face turns a deep maroon, nearly matching the red lacy bra you’re wearing under your blush pink sundress.
“It’s supposed to be a surprise.” He spits out through gritted teeth. His chiseled jaw clenched tight, a muscle twitching in his scruff-covered cheek.
You exchange glances with the befuddled agent. Licking your suddenly dry lips, you glance around the semi-crowded airport. Thankful that few people recognize the super-soldier with his oversized hoodie concealing his arm.
“Sir, whatever you have tucked in your pants-“ The agent begins, clearing his throat nervously when Bucky’s eyes land on him. You admire the man’s bravery, not many can face down your man when he’s giving them his signature death stare. “- you’ll need to put it on the conveyor belt.” His voice cracks when Bucky stands up straight, cracking his neck.
Bucky crooks his index finger and motions for the agent to come closer. He looks back at you and you shrug, giving him a helpless I have no fucking idea what’s happening look.
You rock onto your tiptoes to try to take a peak, failing to seeing much. You can only make out Bucky’s arm moving forward, a shocked gasp, and the sound of elastic snapping against skin.
“Oh wow. Wow, I’ve never seen anything that big, I mean-” he looks over his shoulder at you. “-how are you not waddling right now?” His flustered tone makes you blink slowly.
Tilting your head, you place your hands on your hips. “What?”
The agent drops his eyes, “M just saying, should be walking side to side.” He sings the last bit. Your lips pull down into a confused frown, opening your mouth to ask him what the hell is going on, Bucky cuts you off with a loud groan.
“I assume we can go.” He snarls, the sound making your belly twist, you don’t know what’s happening but you like it when he gets riled up. Bucky grabs his belongings out of the bin resting on the conveyor belt.
“Sergeant, you can do whatever you want.”
“Excuse me?” you exclaim incredulously, eyes widening. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Bucky grabs your arm, spinning you around. ”Let’s go.“
He ignores your questions, his hand hovering over the small of your back, guiding you through the airport. You struggle to match his long strides, his blank, angry stare alone parting the crowds until you reach the gate.
Once you’re on the plane, you’re led into the private cabin, only three other people besides the flight attendant are in your section. You sink into your buttery smooth leather seat and wait for him to put up your bags. Suspiciously studying him as he reaches into the overhead cabinet, cursing yourself for talking him into wearing that large sweatshirt. You can’t make out a thing through the thick fabric.
Bucky plops into the seat beside you. His gaze fixated on the serving tray. He’s concerned, almost nervous. No, he can’t be. Nothing makes your man nervous. You touch the side of his face with the pads of your fingers, massaging his jaw.
The word hangs in the tension thick air.
He sighs, eliciting a deep groan from his chest as he tilts his head back. Running your fingers through his soft locks, you turn in your seat. “So you wanna tell me- “
“It was going to be a surprise.”
Scratching his scalp until he relaxes, you wait for him to continue, his blush returning. After a minute, you tug his hair. “You said that already. What is it exactly?” You retort, emphasizing “it”.
Bucky lolls his head to the side, his piercing slate blue eyes gazing into your curious ones.
You stare at his plump pink lips, trying to process the jumbled words. “You what?”
Another groan. You stare at him gesturing for him to repeat himself.
Bucky reaches down and pulls his hoodie up, the grey fabric bunching up over his chest, his darkening blues never leaving yours. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his black and gold hand reach under the band of his sweatpants.
“What are you doing?” You hiss, looking around grateful that no one is paying attention to you.
The flight attendant is talking to the wealthy-looking older couple a few rows ahead and the person behind you is sleeping.
When you drop your eyes back down, you gasp. Your hand flying to your mouth to stifle it. Your gaze sweeps across the cabin, thankful that no one heard you.
His cock is out.
Buck has his hardening cock in his fist.
The thick veiny shaft visible between his fingers, but it’s the head. The swollen tip with precum leaking out that has your attention. Holy fuck. The silver piercing going through it, making it look even larger. Your hand twitches, wanting to touch it.
“Oh, fuck.” You breathe out, letting your hand fall from your face. “Fuck me.” You mean it, please fuck me Bucky.
Bucky takes a deep breath, his eyes holding a hint of concern. “You know how I’ve been on the internet more.”
His hand shifts up his shaft and the rigid piercing moves slightly. “I saw a video. ”
You’re not even listening right now, too distracted by the silver gleaming under the fluorescent lights, it’s curved, two small balls attached to the ends. Your mouth watering at the thought of running your tongue over it. “Mm-hmm.”
Bucky can’t tell if you’re happy or not, holding himself tighter. He wonders if he should have asked you first. “Supposed to make you feel good. Enhance your pleasure.” He explains defensively, a cautious edge to his voice.
“I can take it out, doll.”
That snaps you out of your daze. “The hell you will.”
Without thinking, you drop your head to his lap, your tongue flicking over the leaking tip. His unique salty taste bursting on your tongue, you trace the smooth piercing, marveling at the contrast between his soft flesh and hard metal.
“Damn, I love you.” His voice low and needy, the way you like it.
He cradles the back of your head with his large palm, not pushing but waiting for you to guide him into your mouth, breathing through your nose, you ease down his thick cock.
He tastes so good. His warm heavy weight on your tongue, the piercing a strange feeling in your mouth, bobbing your head, you hollow your cheeks sucking him until you feel his thigh tense under your hand. You know exactly how he likes it, loudly, sloppy with tears streaming down your face, you really wish you could give him what he deserves right now but you’re not even hiding the fact that you’re sucking his cock.
You pull back, licking up the side of his shaft, the veins throbbing with each twist of your hand. Bucky murmurs soft praises that have you craving more, you swirl your tongue around it and he moans quietly, painfully aware that anyone can see his girl taking his cock. “Fuck, you’re good doll.”
You take him back in your warm mouth, gagging softly when he hits the back of your throat. Bucky whispers under his breath. “My sweet dirty little girl-”
You hear a loud exaggerated cough coming from behind you. You pull off of him with a laugh, wiping away the string of spit, Bucky clenches his fists taking in a deep breath trying to control the urge to face fuck you in front of these nice people.
Sneaking a glance over the top of your seat, the man behind you has his eyes shut, his lips pinched together. You slump back in your seat, face burning. You really gave Buck head in the middle of the plane. Looking down at his cock, you’re seconds away from finishing the job.
“In five minutes, meet me in the bathroom.” His deep voice delivering the demand right in your ear.
Bucky tucks himself back in his pants and saunters down the aisle. You grin at your clasped hands, containing your eager squeal. It’s about to go down. Your pussy throbs with every second that passes. You’re almost afraid to get up because of how wet you are right now. You keep your chin tucked to your chest, ignoring the chuckling from the person behind you, and dart down the aisle, mumbling sorry when you almost knock over someone.
You open the door and peek inside. “Buck-”
He grabs you, shutting the door behind you. He shoves you up on the sink and for the second time in ten minutes; you struggle for air.
Bucky is completely naked, pants pooled around his feet, shirt over the small toilet, the harsh white light reflecting off the piercing as his cock sways. His large muscular body crowding the small space, pushing you back into the mirror. He’s everywhere. His hands part your thighs, cool smooth metal and warm rough hands, languidly rubbing your skin.
Bucky grins at you. “I was going to have the first time be on the beach but I can’t wait doll.”
“Good.” You moan, his fingers pressing into your thighs.
His breath hitches when you reach out, telling you to don’t act shy now, it’s your cock doll. Even without his dirty praises in your ear, his hand guiding yours down to his throbbing erection between your bodies, you’re so turned on, ready for him. Your panties clinging to your sopping wet cunt, your dress bunched around your waist.
“Take it.” He orders, every bit the Sergeant he is, daring you to defy him.
You want him too bad to even think about teasing him today.
You stroke his cock, in awe of the way the metal curves around his tip, gently caressing the end of the metal with your thumb, pulling the side of it. Bucky feels it through his entire cock, a vulgar grunt in his chest, his hands digging into your thighs. You’re going to be bruised tomorrow.
You glimpse up at him through your lashes, he’s seconds from losing it. Your clit aches at the thought of him going feral.
You stroke it again, harder this time, comparing the warm metal to his heated flesh and you twist your hand firmly. He groans your name, his hand grabbing your wrist, pulling you away. “Keep it up and I’ll cum.”
“I thought you said you could only cum in my pussy or mouth, Sergeant.” You say sweetly, biting your bottom lip.
The veins in his neck pop out his control splinters, his growl sending jolts straight to your pussy. Bucky leans down, crashing his lips down over yours, his hands lifting your hips off the counter, dragging your panties down until you can kick them off.
You need him inside you, stretching you right now.
“So pretty,” he whispers, pulling you to the edge of the sink, his cock bobbing over your stomach as you grip the walls for support. Bucky is a fucking tease when he knows you’re the needy one. He knows how badly you want him, but he’s going to make you beg.
Holding his shaft, he eases his swollen head through your heated folds; you flinch when the metal taps your clit, its firm and cool on your pulsating bundle. A breathy wanton moan pouring out when he does it again.
“Bucky.” You whine, wrapping your legs around him, trying to bring him closer.
Bucky shakes his head, “Not until I’m ready.” He smirks when you glare at him. “Wanna challenge me, doll?”
His metal hand latches around your throat and you almost cry when he squeezes. You’re no match for him, he knows your body too well, how much pressure to apply to make you break, how to put you back together and rip you apart again without breaking a sweat.
He circles your clit, tracing intricates patterns over you, light touches that have you rocking forward desperate for friction until you whimper out please Bucky, please baby. Fuck I’ll do anything, just, please.
“Not good enough, I don't know if you really want it doll, doesn’t sound like you do?” He taunts, his hand tightening over your throat as you beg for him.
Bucky slaps your pussy with his cock once, twice and you jolt, sparks of pleasure shooting through you but it’s not enough, your throbbing cunt clenching down hard over nothing.
“Sergeant, please.” You plead, your heels digging into his back. No matter how hard you try, you can’t get him to move. “Bucky, please.”
You gaze into his eyes, the thin rim of blue barely visible around his lust blown pupils. God, he likes you like this begging and desperate, dripping for him. He slaps you again. Another whimper falling out of your mouth. You let go of the wall and grab his hair and yank hard.
His head jerks back and he slams into you, the sudden burning stretch overwhelming you. Suddenly so full of his thick cock you can’t breathe. His name strangled on your tongue.
“Fuck, you don’t know how good you feel Doll”. His appreciative groan makes you even wetter and fuck he can tell. He doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s slamming back into your velvety heat. “M gonna stay buried in this sweet little cunt all week.” Your head flies back, his hand reaching around in the nick of time to keep it from bouncing off the mirror. He pins your hand above your head as his hips grind into yours. “Gonna fuck you everywhere on the island”
“You’re making a mess of my cock” He says looking down between your bodies, watching his cock disappear into your tight pussy, coated with your slick with each thrust.
He whispers more filthy things in your ear, the mirror fogging as he tells you all the ways he’s going to take on the beach, the surrounding forest. You’re not going anywhere until he’s satisfied. The fast, merciless thrusts have you keening louder and louder until he covers your mouth in a hot, sloppy kiss.
You feel every inch enhanced by the smooth ends of his piercing gliding over your fluttering walls, his lips on yours are the only things keeping the entire plane from hearing your sobs. Bucky bites your lower lip gently before soothing it with his tongue. Your own dives into his wet mouth, deepening the kiss as he fucks you.
A knock on the door goes unanswered.
You don’t give a fuck who’s out there, not when you feel this good; you don’t think it can get any better; he changes his angle, pulling you up and metal strikes your soft spongy spot. Pure electricity shoots you through. It’s fast and brutal in its intensity, your toes curl, back painfully arched off the sink.
He swallows your scream, barely muffling the sound. You know they have to hear you, but then he does it again and your eyes roll back. All worries about being quiet are gone when he keeps hitting your sweet spot.
It’s more than you can take.
His metal fingers drop to your clit. “So much, too much, so good fuck I can’t, I can’t.” You mumble into his mouth.
He makes out your frantic pleas, his lips still on yours, and he grins deviously. Oh, you will, doll. He grazes your clit lightly with small circles, waiting until his next thrust, and he pushes his thumb hard over your sensitive bud at the same time his piercing drags over your spot. His muffled good girl pushing you over the edge.
You shatter. An incoherent, shrill moan erupting from you, breaking away from his hold as the orgasm surges through your body. With a dull roar in your ears, you see stars. Purples and reds blooming behind your eyelids, sobs, and moans wracking through as the coil unravels. His large hands hold you steady, letting him fuck you harder.
Sweat clings to your body, the front of your dress drenched in it, your thighs burning and trembling around his waist. Tears burn your eyes, mascara dripping down your face, the small space impossibly hot.
Bucky groans, “One more doll.” He laughs when you shake your head. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?”
Bucky plants his hands on the mirror for leverage, grinding deeper in you, fucking you relentlessly until you cum again and again. Pleasure overwhelming you, your nails scratching red trails down his chest.
You clench down again, riding through another orgasm, his pace falters as he feels his own climax building. His hips snapping erratically in you until he drops his head with a grunt. “So fucking tight, pussy was made for me.”
“C’mon Bucky, fill me up, god I want it” you moan, biting down on his shoulder, letting him use your body he spills inside of you. “Yes, fuck.”
He rests his forehead on yours, his softening cock falling out of your spasming cunt. “Love you,” you giggle.
Bucky smiles at you, reaching over to grab a handful of paper towels. “Love you too.”
You point at his cock, “I think I love him more though.”
His face drops, making you laugh, reminding you how much you love these moments after he wrecks your body. He playfully grumbles as he wets up the towels with warm water and cleans up the mess between your thighs.
You fan yourself off with your hand, wiping off his forehead with the bottom of your dress. You rest your back on the cool mirror, the sweat drying, you bring your knees up to give him enough space to get dressed.
Another knock on the door. Persistent banging while you adjust the straps on your dress.
You look at him and he shrugs, his brow raised defiantly, pocketing your panties.
He opens the latch, smiling smugly at the flight attendant. She looks past him and stares at you in wonder. You gaze back, eyes dazed, looking thoroughly loved and fucked. The smell of sex drifting out of the small bathroom.
“Ma’am” He asserts over her indignant spluttering for the both of you to return to your seats. He takes your hand and pushes past her, you stumble behind him on shaky legs when you lose your balance, he sweeps you into his arms. Bucky places you into your seat, reclining it for you.
Snagging a bottle off a passing tray, he helps you take a drink of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat.
He looks out your window, then at his watch. You yawn, lids drifting shut. “I’m not tired, doll.” His tone has your eyes snapping open.
Placing a kiss on your lips, he rubs his nose along your throat, humming quietly. “We land in five hours”. He tosses the thin airplane blanket over you. His warm hand slipping between your legs. “Let’s play a little game doll.”
He grabs your chin with his metal fingers gazing into your eyes. “Make a sound and I stop.” Oh fuck. He pulls your bottom lip down, leaning closer, his warm breath brushing over your skin. “Be quiet and you get to cum.”
“But if you make a sound, you have to do whatever I want all week long.”
6K notes · View notes
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (MCU)
summary: In which Bucky can’t figure out why he feels so restless when everything is perfect in his life... until he does.
warnings: sex (18+), breeding kink!!! copious amounts of fluff and bucky being an adorable goofball
author’s note: ‘tis finally here!!! first fic on the new blog! also thought i’d do something new with formatting my fics! and once again, i couldn't help with keeping it short n sweet sorry! [wc: ~5k]
MASTERLIST // LIBRARY
Bucky doesn’t know what’s gotten into him lately.
There is this restlessness that keeps bugging him in the back of his mind. Sometimes it doesn’t let him focus on things. Mundane things, really. When he’s brewing the morning coffee. When he’s reading the paper. Or when he’s mindlessly scrolling through his phone.
He’s happy and it’s been years since he’s felt genuine happiness. He’s a free man, free to do what he wants. Free to talk, to walk, to wear whatever he wants. To eat whatever he wants. To feel whatever he wants. To love whoever he wants.
To love you enough and more to marry you and start his little family. He has all of this, he’s at peace. He gets to wake up every morning and is blessed to have the most gorgeous woman sleeping next to him. He gets to make a home with you, memories with you. Share your love for each other in your space, fill it with more love with things you love and care about.
And he has done that.
He’s a stable guy now, he’s got a wife and a home and the most adorable cat.
He can’t complain, he’s got no right to feel this restlessness. God knows, he doesn’t take a thing for granted in his life. Everything he has and everything he wants is right in the palm of his hands.
He should be happy. No, he is happy. He just wants to be… happier? Would it be completely selfish if he wants to be happier?
You’ve always told him, it’s a good colour on him. He’s gorgeous when he’s beaming and all smiles. Like a bright sunny day at the beach, warmth from the ocean water, warmth from the sun gently beating down.
You never fail to tell him that he has every right to be selfish, either. You love to spoil him rotten sometimes. Shower him with compliments, and constantly flirting with him – even though it’s been a whole year you’ve been married, been together for three years before that – not counting five years after the Blip.
Safe to say, he’s going to grow old with you. If science can help him do that, that is.
So why does he feel restless?
His question is answered one day in the most life-changing way.
The two of you were at the vet’s clinic, just a regular check-up for Alpine. She was seated in Bucky’s lap. He refused to get one of those pet carriers when the pet supply store owner urged him to buy one for Alpine. With the way she hissed at the cage, he could tell she didn’t like it.
While waiting for your turn, Bucky kept petting her back. Long, comforting strokes and soft scratches behind her ear, because she tends to get a little nervous during these visits.
The woman before you was called out. She was struggling with her newborn baby in the bassinet, and her dog whining – she looked helpless. While she tried to haul the bassinet and the dog to the doctor’s office – who refused to leave his spot because he didn’t want to go – you got up to help her.
“Let me help you, I can look after your baby while you’re inside.”
Much to her relief, the woman sighed. Your face is trustful enough, a kind smile on your lips.
“Thank you so much, sweetheart!” She said and handed you the bassinet. You told her it’s not a problem and she picked up the dog and went in.
When you came back, you left a seat to place the baby between you and Bucky. You look at your husband and the pure joy on your face lit up his heart. You picked up the baby. She wasn’t crying or throwing a fit, but she was just so adorable and you had to have her in your arms.
You cooed and called her all sweet names, talking to her in a different voice, a tiny one that made him smile on his own. He wondered what it would be like to watch you play with your baby like that.
That sudden thought answered his restlessness. The puzzle was finally completed.
It took him by surprise, though.
Does he want a baby with you? Yes, he’s pretty certain about that. One day he would want a little bundle of joy in his arms. Half like him, half like you.
But does he think he’s ready to be a father?
Are you ready to be a mother?
Yeah, those are the questions to which he doesn’t know the answers to.
But what he does know, is that he wants to have a baby. He just needs to know if you’re on the same page as him.
So Bucky… starts dropping hints.
They’re very subtle, considering he’s a 106-year-old, retired Avenger, determined to know your thoughts on having a baby.
The first one is when he brings home the mail after his daily walk around the block. You’re sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, eating a bowl of fresh watermelon, Alpine lazily draped next to you. Some movie plays in the background. Bucky, very subtly, drops a bunch of envelopes and magazines next to your feet and hands you the hydrangeas he brings you every day.
A sweet smile flashed his way when you smell the lovely flowers. Since you’re very comfortable in your position – and since Bucky doesn’t want to distract you from his plan – he offers to put the flowers in the vase for you.
“Stay here,” he gives your shoulder a little squeeze and takes the flowers from you. “I’ll put these in water.”
A mumbled thanks and you adjust yourself, your feet now under you. And something catches your eye. A parenting magazine lies under the heaps of bills. You shuffle them away with your fingers and grab the thick booklet.
“Mother & Baby,” you mumble, confusion lining your expressions.
All the while, Bucky is peeping at you. Standing at the sink in the kitchen island, the water in the vase is overflowing. He realises that when the cold water trickles down the vase and his hand.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, closes the tap and throws the excess water. The flowers shoved inside the vase, eyes never leaving you. Licks his bottom lip as a nervous habit and wipes his wet hand on his jeans. Trying to seem busy and nonchalant as he blindly arranges the flowers.
“Bucky?” you call out, eyes never leaving the front cover of the magazine.
The vase nearly slips from his grip, he scrambles up to attention – very nonchalant – and hopes that his voice doesn’t squeak terribly when he answers, “Yes, baby?”
Baby. Did he have to call you that right now?
He could have called you anything, honey, angel, sweetheart. But no, he just had to call you baby.
“I think you got somebody else’s mail by mistake,” you said, placing the magazine back on the table. He walks over to you, “We don’t have a subscription for ‘Mother & Baby’. It might belong to that new couple who moved into 1C. I saw them with a stroller the other day.”
“Oh, huh…” he feigns a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, I guess I didn’t notice. All the mail was just shoved into the box.” He scoffs as if it’s the mailman’s fault when it was Bucky who stole the magazine from the top of 1C’s box.
“Will you please give it to them?”
“Yeah, of course.” he shrugs and picks it up. Slips into his shoes and as soon as he’s out and shuts the door, he bangs his head on it lightly. “Barnes, you fucking moron.”
The next hint is when Bucky offers to babysit their new neighbours’ baby boy. It was weeks after that magazine debacle. In that time he’d earned the trust of his neighbours enough to let him babysit their kid while the new parents had a date night to themselves. It was a win-win situation. They were thankful and Bucky got a chance to execute his plan.
You were more than happy to help Bucky. In fact, you were elated. As soon as you were introduced to baby Will by your husband, you picked up the chubby kid and kept him with you the whole time. You only let Bucky have him when he needed a change of diaper and clothes for bedtime.
“I guess, I’ll have to do all the nasty work with our baby, too,” he mumbles, struggling to get Will’s clothes on after he finished powdering and diapering his cute little tushie.
“Yes, obviously. We all have our duties. I carry it for nine months and then you take care of it after that.” You shrugged, hands on your hips.
But what Bucky hung onto was the fact that you didn’t oppose the idea of having a baby.
That made him smile, it was a small one. Though it took everything in him to not turn it into a grin. He was happier than before.
Another hint was dropped soon after that, because for some reason you just couldn’t take a hint. And for some reason, Bucky couldn’t grow enough balls to ask you.
“Do you think babies are adorable?” he randomly asks.
Both of you, strolling hand in hand, in a park. Which was filled with new moms with their newborns and toddlers running around. Did he bring you out here on purpose? Yes, yes he did.
“Of course, they’re adorable,” you said, leaning into his warmth, curling your hand around his bicep.
“I like ‘em,” Bucky comments, watching two toddlers running towards each other to meet in a hug. His heart melts at the sight. But nonchalance is still his motto. He truly doesn’t want to scare you off. Although, you’re stuck with him. But that’s beside the point.
“You know what I like?” you ask, your tone low and a bit dangerous. A finger curling around the chain of his necklace where his wedding ring is looped in. Bucky has tried wearing it on his left hand, but it keeps slipping off. And he’s afraid of losing it. Bucky hums in response, a slight furrow of curiosity between his brows. “The baby-making bit of it.”
He full-belly laughs at that. Head thrown back and eyes crinkling at the corners. “I couldn’t agree more, sweetheart.”
Laughter aside, Bucky came to his senses when he realised that both of you, in fact, need to go through the baby-making bit of it. Not that he didn’t think about it. He was just so preoccupied with the fact that he wants a child, the sex part had fused with excitement.
But every time you had sex, Bucky was incorrigible, horny, downright insatiable. It drove him insane that he would have to wear a condom for at least a few more days until he gets the courage to tell you what’s on his mind.
But the way he fucked you, he could tell something else would come over him. He felt like an animal in heat. He went hard and fast, was a bit sloppy at times, his cock would ache so much at the impulse control.
He swears, he could combust when he’d think about it. Think about not having to use that useless piece of rubber. Think about feeling your walls stretch around him. Think about nothing separating the two of you anymore. Think about filling you up, until he can’t anymore. Think about his baby growing inside your womb.
If he was being honest with himself, those thoughts were the only ones that helped his undoing every time you had sex.
So the fact that he was keeping it all inside his stupid little, fragile heart, didn’t help him.
God, why couldn’t he just tell you? You’re his wife, his other half, his soulmate. If he wants a baby, the two of you could start having the talk, at least get a headstart on the journey.
He’s pretty sure his emotions would burst out like an explosion. He’s taken back to the time when he was desperately and hopelessly in love with you, all those years back. When he met you in your restaurant, demanding the waiter to arrange a meeting with the chef because he wanted to give his compliments. You didn’t do that sort of thing at that time.
Now he thinks it would be a great meet-cute story to tell his kids. But how will he have them if he couldn’t tell you?
Just a few more days, and he’ll tell you. In those days Bucky conducts a little research. Google is his best option since he will not go to his friends to seek advice. Sam will only laugh in his face and Yori would start telling stories from his time – the old man could get a little explicit at times. Bucky could not live that nightmare again.
So in a world where people mostly searched, ‘My wife is pregnant, what do I do?’ Bucky searched things like, ‘How to get my wife pregnant?’, ‘How to get pregnant fast?’, ‘What are the best sex positions for assured pregnancy?’, stuff like that. He learned about the ovulation cycle. Learned how to record menstrual cycle frequency. Like any good husband would do.
Not that you will, but if you were to get a whiff of his search history, he would be mortified.
He knows there’s a fifty-fifty chance that your opinions on this baby matter could clash. But having absolute knowledge about this stuff is always good, right?
Bucky groans at the thought. He hopes there are no clashes in opinions. He drops his phone on his chest, heaving a sigh. The sunlight streams through the white cotton blinds as the wind gently blows them away. It’s been ten minutes since he’s been up. You’re already out of bed, probably cooking something. It’s Sunday, you like to take your time to make a big breakfast.
He finally gets up, padding over to the bathroom, splashes water on his face to wake his sleepy eyes. He notices that they’re out of toothpaste. Sighing, he checks the cupboard to get a new tube. While he was at it, he also noticed the box of condoms, which they’re almost running out of, too.
“This is a sign, Barnes.” he preps himself, huffing, “Man up and tell your wife you want a baby.” he nods to his reflection and brushes his teeth.
Bucky follows the smell of fresh waffles and berries and coffee, sweet maple syrup. Bacon and scrambled eggs.
But what really brings out his hunger is the sight in front of him when he enters the kitchen. You, standing at the counter, nursing a cup of coffee, dressed in his black button-up. Looking otherworldly, as always in his clothes. Always a pretty sight, always sexy. Always his.
The outline of your chest accentuated by the light material of the cloth. It leaves nothing hidden to his imagination. And boy, it’s running wild. Sweatpants hanging low, he feels himself twitch underneath the worn-out fabric.
Like a siren, you pull him in, and once he's standing behind you, he gives your waist a soft squeeze and your temple a loving kiss. Breathing in your sweet scent, combined with a hint of sweat and the activities that went down the night before. Hey, it was date night and you were wearing that particular dress he loves on you so much.
“G’morning,” Comes his sleep-tired greeting, thick with lack of use, but loving nonetheless. His mouth pressing on the area where your neck meets your shoulder, kissing languidly, running his tongue after he leaves a small nip.
Your reply comes in the form of a light giggle, the shoulder curling up against his honey kisses. “Morning… don’t tell me you haven’t had your fill yet?”
“With you?” More kisses to your neck, “Never.”
Soon his hands start to explore, pulling and squeezing wherever he finds soft skin. A little pinch your nipples, a harsh squeeze to your waist, deft fingers rubbing over your heat, slowly soaking your panties. You quiver, place the cup on the counter, afraid it will slip. His other hand massaging your relaxed shoulder. Lips as sweet as they are, keep pressing heated kisses along your neck and jaw.
“Bucky, we gotta at least get through breakfast… Please – oh,” A heavy sigh parts your lips when he nips at the pulse under the tender skin of your neck.
He can’t tell if you’re pleading him to go on or stop.
“Cheesy as it may sound, you are my breakfast, baby.” he cheekily says into your neck, hips pressed to your ass. His palm, large and callous runs under his shirt, pressing against your belly. That insane rush of electricity zipping down to his dick and he’s fully hard in seconds. Rutting against your ass once again.
The hand on your abdomen only seems to drive his brain towards the possibilities, and before he could gauge his words, he’s speaking, breath hot and clouding with lust when he says, “I wanna have a baby, honey.”
The way your body tensed before his own doesn’t go unnoticed by him. With a hand on your waist, he turns you around, cupping your cheek. Plush lips brushing against your own, reeling you into his touch.
“Let’s make a baby, sweetheart.” His voice is a husky drawl of a request.
And you’re astounded, “Bucky –”
“I know this is sudden for you.” he reasons, “But I’ve been thinking about it for a month now. And it’s killing me, not being able to tell you. We don’t need to do anything right now. I’m just –” he breathes hard, nose flaring, “God, the thought alone makes me so hard.”
A shuddered breath rattles out of your lungs, your bite your lip, but he pries it out with a gentle swipe of his thumb.
“Let me just fuck you right now. We can talk later. Just please, let me –”
“Okay,” you nod, fingers run through the short hair on his nape, the other hand fisting his shirt.
“Okay to what?” he stops to take a look at you, hand on your chin to make you look into his eyes.
“Let’s make a baby,” you kiss his lips once. But that just changes the entire course of this morning. A peck on his lips won’t cut it.
A sort of a growl leaves his lips, wetting his bottom lip, blunt nails holding you in a bruising grip as he turns you around once again. He rips your panties off your legs, using his foot to discard them once they reach your ankles. A nudge to your legs to part them and you brace yourself, a tight grip on the edge of the counter, anticipating his next move. Because, right now, you can tell he’s not the same Bucky anymore. Your affirmation on his request turned something entirely different in his brain – maybe he even short-circuited.
With a simple tug at the lapels of the shirt you’re wearing, he rips it open, the buttons falling on the granite countertops with a clattering sound. You’re bare before him in seconds, breathless before he even had a chance to touch you properly. A sweet whine parting from your lips when he squeezes your ass, his touch rougher than usual, spreads your cheeks and then –
“Oh, my God, Bucky –” he’s slipping his fingers inside you, collecting the wetness, holding your waist in a bruising grip. You roll your hips, trying to seek more of his touch. Your head feels heavy from the impact his words and his touch have on you.
You’re unbelievably wet, seeping down your thighs, down his fingers. Soaking him and still unable to stop yourself. His blood pumps a little harder in his chest, in his veins, breaths growing shallow with each passing of his fingers inside your tight, wet heat. Your legs start to shake after a particular thrust, unable to hold yourself up, crying out with tears burning behind your eyes.
You’re right there on the edge when his thumb stops circling and his fingers leave you empty.
“Why’d you stop?” you pant.
“I need to be inside you,” he groans, quickly taking off his shirt and sweatpants. His cock slaps wetly against his abdomen, twitching painfully when he touches himself. A few strokes, languid pulls that have his knees buckling, his hand joins next to yours on the counter and he lines himself along with your heat, “You sure you don’t wanna talk about this first?”
He can’t help but ask you, giving you an out before anything happens. He’s not sure why because he’s only wanted this for so long.
“Oh, Jesus – fuck, Bucky!” you pant, “Just fuck a baby into me already!”
The way he whimpers at your plea, desperate and frustrated, it’s hard not to comply with you, he slips right into you. He’s not met with much resistance, you’re impossibly wet and he’s sliding home in one long thrust. And the stunted breath that rags out of his mouth at the feeling of your walls clenching around his bare cock for the first time, it nearly sends him reeling.
Forehead on your shoulder, breathe hot on your back, Bucky holds off on fucking you right away. He can’t wrap his head around this feeling.
God, he needs a second.
“I can feel just how wet you are,” he whines, “Remind me, why did we ever use condoms?”
“The hell, if I knew,” you reply with a huffed chuckle.
“This has never felt so fuckin’ good,” he moans, starts moving, sliding out of you, leaving you almost empty before he’s rocking hard, back in. It’s enough to force the breath right out of your lungs.
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about fucking you like this? With my bare cock inside you – Ah, shit.”
“Believe me, I have,” you’re surprised you could get the words out through your gasps.
This… new version of sex, where he can feel every soft glide of your walls, where you feel every smooth, hard ridge of his cock, drives you both insane.
Only makes him move faster, makes you spasm around him quicker. Your broken moans spur him on. He pulls you flat against his chest, his vibranium arm cool across your blazing torso, holding your body close to his as he picks up his pace.
It’s all primal. His instincts, animalistic. The only goal in his mind to fill you up full of him. His right hand travels down to your belly once again, feeling the outline of his cock moving inside you. Turns him on beyond his imagination. And he can’t wait to see you get round and big, to watch your breasts grow heavier, larger. He remembers reading they get sensitive, he wonders if you’ll come with just a touch of his hands, with just a swipe of his tongue when you reach that stage.
“Tell me you want this. Tell me once again,” he breathes out, fingers inch down to where he disappears inside you, again and again, collecting the wetness that trickles down your thighs only to help him circle your nub.
“I want this, Bucky. I wanna have your baby, oh please –” you writhe against him, push your ass back into his hips, your back arching away, cool vibranium fingers toy with your nipples.
“You have any idea the research I did for this?” he chuckles, helplessly, grinding into you, more so than thrusting, the tip of his cock brushing your sweet spot, deliciously, repeatedly once he finds that angle. “All the positions we could try out to get you pregnant? Just thinking of all the ways I could fuck a baby insida’ you. Drove me nuts, honey.”
“Bucky –” Your walls grip him tighter, and he almost stutters to a stops.
“You’re close, aren’t you? Shit, squeezing me like a vice, sweetheart.” You nod and at this point, you’re wailing. The only way to muffle yourself is when you turn your head, a hand at the back of his neck to guide him closer for a kiss. Your tongue laves at his, and he tries to keep up with his thrusts but they’re getting sloppy with the way you suck on his bottom lip.
A final push and a splurge of white-hot intensity distributes itself all over your body, starting from your belly, reaching up to your chest as it swells up, flushed. And he’s coming too, balls pulled up tightly, he grows painfully hard inside you right before he releases. Breath hot and heavy, sweaty chest shivering with the aftershocks.
“I wanna go again,” he says, panting, noses at the underside of your jaw. You turn around to face him, eyes wide, still trying to catch your breath.
“Really?” you croak out.
But he gives you that smirk, it turns your insides to mush, “What? Are you tired?”
“I’m not a super-soldier with an insane sex drive, baby. I might need a minute, though. I’m not sure if I can even hold myself up.” you huff out, resting your head on his shoulder, grateful for his arms around your body as it sags against his.
“That’s what I’m here for,” Bucky says before pulling out. He turns you around and picks you up before even a drop of his come can seep out of you. A yelp tumbling out of your lips as he hangs you over his left shoulder, your arms finding purchase on his body, though you know he’ll never drop you.
“Bucky! Put me down!” you squeal, all the blood rushing your brain for a second. His vibranium palm is secured around your legs, the other hand kneads your ass, as he walks down the hallway to your bedroom.
“Nope!” His answer is punctuated with a sharp spank on your ass.
He carefully settles you on the bed, body sinking into the soft mattress. You prop yourself on your elbows and watch him crawl up the bed on his knees. He stalks you like a predator, eyes hungry and dark, brimming with pure, unadulterated lust.
Your legs widen on their own, his hands rest on your knees as he settles between your thighs. That’s when you start to feel a sort of warmth trickle down your weeping cunt, but Bucky is quick to catch it.
“Not a chance in hell,” Two of his fingers gather the hot trail right before it soaks the sheets, he shakes his head, pushes it back where it came from. And oh, your head falls back, as a languid moan escapes your lips, you can’t help it. You can’t keep looking at the way he stares at you down there. Ready to devour you without a single breather.
He’s hard and sleek and glistening. Bottom lip trapped between his teeth, he curls his hand around his girth. Releases a shaky breath when his thumb grazes over the tip. He’s a throbbing, pathetic mess above you. Unable to control this insatiable appetite for sex that suddenly came over him. It’s surprising, but what else would you expect from a freaking super-soldier all set to breed you?
He slides himself between your folds, once, twice, a third time only to watch your writhe against the sheets. Hands caressing your curves, your breasts, tugging and squeezing. Legs somehow spreading wider.
“One more time and we’re done for today, yeah?” he asks, eyes finding yours, “I wanna try this one position I saw this morning.”
“Is that what got you all worked up?” you chuckle, “As long as you’re doing all the work.”
“Gladly,” he mumbles, and the slide is easy, and the moans that slip out of those plush pink lips, easier, softer. It’s so filthy – the wet, squelching sounds that now accompany your sweet love-making. Bucky leans down to be closer to you, a gentle hand cupping his scruffy cheek to guide him for a kiss as he sinks right in until there’s no room left.
Noses brushing, heads tilting, mouths divulging for deeper kisses, wet and warm and sloppy as he begins to move. He’s gentle this time, threading your fingers through his own next to your wild hair laid out on the pillow. His wedding ring lands on your sternum, right above your beating heart.
The overwhelming feeling from before, the primal instinct that had taken over him had settled down… for now. He just wants to make love to you, in your bed, create life inside you, for both of you.
He’s desperate, light-headed from all the blood rushing south. Even though you’ve done this countless times, you’ve never seen him like this. It turns you on beyond your imagination. How his hunger turned into anguish. How he’s the one that has turned into a pleading, whimpering mess.
You kiss him until he eases into your touch, delicate fingers running all over his hot skin, over the ridges of the muscles on his back, smooth and rippling. Over his erratically beating heart that you help calm down a bit. Tongue seeking out his own, to make him focus on this one feeling at a time. And he kisses you back, for what feels like an eternity.
When the need for air arises, he pulls away but presses his forehead against yours. Breaths mingling, hot and damp. Then he adjusts himself, in a way where he’s slipping inside you even more. Your calves are brought to be placed on his sturdy shoulders, secured there by his arms bracketing the outside of your thighs. It’s a good stretch, comfortable in a way that makes you purr like a kitten.
And then he begins his move once again, hips undulating, rolling deliciously, lazily. The sweet symphony of your love-making soon fills the room. Both of you moaning, panting, the sounds softer than before. He kisses you some more, pouring all his love, all his affection into this simple act because he cannot express it any other way. This right here, your cocoon of love and warmth, desire and lust is all you want, all you need.
He whispers sweet nothings, he calls you sweet names, he tells you how he cannot wait to start a family with you. How completely and hopelessly in love with you he is, and how it’s the only thing that helps him get up every morning. You, your love, the warmth that your offer him.
His lips catch a tear the dares to roll down the side of your face, tasting the saltiness. Legs giving out, slipping down his shoulders but he doesn’t stop moving.
Not when you’re both so close, not when your hand travels down to claw at his back, grounding him into you, not when you’re grinding yourself against him, and definitely not when you beg him not to stop.
Your soft hand around his sweaty neck urges him to look into your eyes. And he’s helpless when you whisper, “Come inside me.”
“Jesus, sweetheart –” He feels that tingling at the base of his spine.
“I want it, please, Bucky.” God, you don’t have to plead. Chest rubbing against chest, sweat sticking and fusing your bodies as one, hearts beating as one. Toppling over together.
“Oh, fuck me,” he all but whimpers, hips stuttering to an abrupt halt as he spills into you.
He stills once it’s all over. Those glazed, coral blue eyes gazing over your features. Lips pressing over the delicate frown between your brows, to ease it, to calm you. More kisses follow, on your eyelids, on your cheekbones, down your jaw and neck, and your clavicle, and finally a lazy one to your lips. You brush away the dampened hair that fall on his forehead, kissing him just as fervently.
“I love you,” he beats you by a fraction of a second because you utter the same three words right after him. A bite of your lip to stop the laughter from pouring out. The dimpled smile you give him clutches at his heartstrings. His chest swells impossibly large and he’s never been more in love with you.
“I hope this works,” you mumble, your knuckles gently brush over the top of his cheekbone. Eyes on his, soft and loving.
“It will,” He assures you, with a sweet kiss placed over the golden band of your wedding ring.
“If it doesn’t, we have all the time in the world to try more.”
“Hmm,” He grins, “Let’s hope we can try all the positions before we get pregnant.”
“But we can get pregnant and still have sex in those positions.”
“No, I wanna see which one worked for us.”
You laugh, “Why does it matter?”
“You never ask a man why the position matters.” He states it as it is. A stern but playful pout on his lips.
“That makes no sense.”
“We’re just gonna have to agree to disagree, sweetheart.”
i hope you enjoyed reading! as always feedback is greatly appreciated! :)
(a little part ii)
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pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: bucky never talked much. he fell in love anyway.
Bucky wasn’t a man of many words.
And you noticed that fairly quickly. In fact, it was one of the first things you noticed about him when you first joined the team. Quiet, reserved, gentle Bucky Barnes wasn’t a man of many words.
But his eyes spoke volumes.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
His gaze fell, “Not much to say.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
And you pushed him a lot to do so. Always asked him about the 40s and what he was like. You remembered asking if he was just as quiet then as he was now and Steve laughed from across the room saying, “You’re kidding right, Y/N? Buck was a real smooth talker.”
So, you teased him about that often. He didn’t like it, always said something about not being that guy anymore.
You reminded him that he could be any guy he wanted.
So, yeah, Bucky wasn’t a man of many words, but you two got close.
“I know you stole the remote, Buck.”
He circled around the kitchen counter, walking away from you.
“Is it because you don’t want to watch that Disney movie with me? I know you secretly like it and —“
“I don’t have the remote, Y/N.”
“Oh, yeah? Then what’s that hanging out of your pocket?”
You saw that little grin form on his face and you hurried forward and grabbed it before he could say another word.
He chased after you.
Then there were those times where he did thoughtful little things. Where he let his heart show through that thick wall of his and it made you realize just how much he spoke without speaking.
“Did you guys drink all the coffee again? Really? Does no one —“
Bucky handed you a cup.
“Two sugars, right?”
“Yeah and —“
“A dash of cream.”
That was until he added salt into your coffee one morning.
“We ran out of sugar!” he defended.
“So you added salt? Buck, that’s —“ you eyed him. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”
He took a sip of his coffee.
“Oh, you’re getting brave. I can —“
You grabbed his coffee and headed straight for your room.
He chased after you again.
So, yeah you two got close.
Bucky wasn’t a man of many words, but you two still got close.
He never let his walls down completely though. Never enough to let you know what he was feeling anyway, if he was hurt. It didn’t bother you so much until you realized he was always hurt, always hurting and that stung a little too much.
“Buck…can you let me in? Please?”
“We can talk tomorrow, Y/N.”
You sighed, standing outside his door.
“I don’t wanna talk tomorrow. I wanna…we don’t have to talk at all, Buck. I just wanna be with you right now.”
You’ll want to talk anyway, you practically heard and you sighed because it was true.
You knew you’d ask him a bunch of questions and Steve already told you — he already told you that Bucky liked his space. That he got distant sometimes when the world got too much or people got too much for him. Sometimes his mind got too much and Bucky wanted a break. You slid down against his door and sat there for ten minutes hoping for a change of heart.
You weren’t leaving though.
“Hey, Buck, how about this?”
You continued when he didn’t respond. You knew he was listening.
“How about we create a system? One that doesn’t involve you talking or me asking. It can just be...our thing. It can our thing, Buck.”
“And we don’t have to do it all the time. Just when we need to. When I need to know things and you don’t feel like giving. Think you’ve already given too much, don’t ya think?”
But then you heard the door open and you fell back a little. Bucky looked down at you, what system? his eyes read and you patted the ground in front of you, signaling for him to sit.
“Okay so, two taps anywhere like this,” you pressed your fingers against the back of his hand twice. “Means you’re okay. That you’re fine. Three taps, however,” you pressed three times against his skin. “Means you’re not. That you’re not okay.”
He stared at your hands.
“And I don’t have to explain why?”
“Never, Buck. Not unless you want to.”
You tapped him four times.
“Four taps means you miss me.”
Bucky got up.
“Aw, c’mon Buck. Humor me a little!”
You didn’t miss the little grin on his face.
Somehow you thought he’d give you two taps just for that comment.
Bucky wasn’t a man of many words, so he liked the system.
He first used it three days after it was created.
He’d woken up and strolled in for his first cup of coffee. Wasn’t the least bit surprised when he found you already there, cup ready in hand with eggs to match because coffee isn’t breakfast, Buck. He’d usually argue about it. Coffee’s the only breakfast, he’d say, but he didn’t have that in him today.
Maybe it was because he hadn’t come out of his room in three days. Or maybe it was because you hadn’t said anything to him yet, but Bucky didn’t argue. He just found himself tapping your hand twice when he reached for the cup.
Bucky liked that.
And you found that was the one he used the most.
Two taps whenever he went off to bed. Two taps when you played that Godforsaken Disney movie for the 5th time that week. Two taps when Thor made some stupid comment about wars during dinner one night.
It was two taps.
Always two taps.
So you were more than a little surprised when your first three taps came.
It was right after a mission. A long one. One that Steve had gotten hurt on because Bucky hadn’t gotten there fast enough. It wasn’t his fault though. Wasn’t anyone’s fault because everyone was too preoccupied with the bad guys at hand to notice the knife coming for Steve’s left side. Bucky took the blame though. Beat himself up about till he got into the jet.
The words were on the tip of your tongue, are you okay? You wanted to say it. Wanted everyone to say it because how could they not notice?
You didn’t though.
Instead you sat next to him and waited for him to say something, anything. At some point, you felt yourself giving up and drifting off until you felt his hand on your thigh.
He squeezed it three times.
You rested your head on his shoulder.
Then there was that time you left for six days. Fury had you and Natasha assigned to some undercover mission in London for the next six days. It took the whole six days, while the boys jetted off to New Orleans to deal with some asshole causing a ruckus in the city.
They came back in two.
“Buck!” you shouted, waking through the compound and dropping your bag at the front door.
“Buck, I’m back! Where are —“ you grinned, finding him resting at the bar stool in the kitchen. He was reading some file and you dropped your head onto his shoulder from behind.
“Hey, Buck. Miss me?”
“No? Ouch, well, I missed you,” you turned your head, kissing his cheek. “Look, I even brought you back a keychain. Nothing fancy. Just has a cat waving the British flag and when I saw it, I thought of you. The cat looks grumpy.”
Bucky didn’t say anything and you removed your head from his shoulder. He must be really into the file, you thought and you didn’t want to bother him so you left the keychain on the table and turned around to head to your room.
Bucky grabbed you and tapped your waist four times.
You launched yourself at him and covered his face with a series of kisses. Everywhere. Anywhere you could reach and each one was followed by a string of I knew it, I knew it, I knew it’s.
Bucky never wanted to use the four taps again.
Except he did. All the time.
Bucky wasn’t a man of many words, but he thinks he was starting to fall for you.
Because he did four taps whenever you left the room for too long. And when Steve briefed them for too long that one time about some mission, Bucky found himself tapping your leg four times even though you were right there.
Right there. You were right there.
He even recalled nudging his nose against yours four times when you fell asleep on him during that damn Disney movie the previous week.
“Miss you,” he mumbled.
But it was okay because when you woke up the next morning, you nudged your nose against his cheek four times.
Bucky woke up with a bright gleam in his eyes.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Missed you, obviously.”
And then there came a time where Bucky decided he wanted to create a new one. A new tap.
Bucky wasn’t a man of many words, but he knows he finally found love.
“Sweetheart, damn, can you slow —“
Because you were stuffing popcorn in his mouth. You were laying in front of him, in between him to be more exact, and throwing popcorn behind like it was nothing.
Most of it didn’t even make it into his mouth.
“Shh, this is the best part.”
“You say that everytime. We’ve seen this movie a —“
Bucky laughed and pulled you up so you were closer to his chest. It wasn’t anything special that made him realize it. Thinks it was the familiarly and the comfortability that made him put the pieces together, but Bucky leaned down and pressed his lips against your hair three times. Just three and that was enough for you to tear your eyes away from the screen and look up at him.
He didn’t say anything.
“Did I throw too much popcorn again? You know I get excited when Lucifer gets on screen. He reminds me so much of —“
Bucky tightened his arm around you and tapped his thumb against your stomach once.
You knitted your brows.
“One? Buck, one doesn’t mean anything. We don’t have —“
“One means I love you.”
“One tap means I love you. It means I love you, Y/N.”
It took a few seconds for your brain to register but once it did you jumped up in his lap and turned to face him. Bucky's sure the popcorn bowl had spilled all over the floor, but he didn’t care. Not when his girl looked at him like that and leaned in to kiss him like that too. So fiercely and full of love.
“Okay, okay, baby! I said one tap.”
“One tap gets you a million kisses each time.”
“Mhm. I’m okay with that.”
You giggled, I know you are, you mumbled against him and kissed him a little harder. He felt brighter, more happy and he knew he wasn’t one to say much, but his eyes always did and that was enough for you to pull back for a quick second before leaning in to give him one, long, seething kiss.
And at that moment, Bucky knew the kind of guy he wanted to be.
He wanted to be the kind that was loved by you.
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facial expressions brought u by ✨𝑏𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑠 ✨
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What if Bucky and the reader are in a relationship and he finds out he’s really into being a pleasure dom and wants to try it with the reader? 👀
Pleasure Dom Bucky, yes please 😩 you just know that mf would take such good care of you after a long stressful week. Honestly, this one took me a hot minute to write because I had to do some research for it lmao, I hope it’s okay!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 5.6k
Summary: You have a terribly long week at work so Bucky helps you relax
Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it pls), PleasureDom!Bucky, sub reader, pet names, praise kink, degradation, size kink, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, oral (f receiving), somnophilia (done with consent established previously), daddy kink, the dog tags make an appearance, mention of safe words, overstimulation, lil voyeurism (watching yourselves in a mirror), light humiliation
Minors, do not interact
What had started out as a week with very little in your calendar soon turned into an absolute killer. You weren’t quite sure how your time got filled up so quickly, wall to wall meetings scheduled into your diary, leaving you hardly any time to even breathe. The meetings themselves weren’t even the worst part, the worst was knowing that after your work day had officially ended, you had endless catching up to do for your other projects and then all the planning for the meetings the following day. Your sleep was limited, as was Bucky’s. He hated going to bed without you, tossing and turning in the sheets for hours until you eventually gave in and joined him. As the week went on you found yourself only getting more and more stressed. By Friday you were almost ready to lie in bed and not move all weekend, just hoping Monday wouldn’t bring more of the same torture.
When 5pm on Friday rolled around, Bucky was standing waiting at the door to your study, adamant that your laptop would be switched off and hidden from you all weekend, along with your work mobile. You huffed out a little tired laugh, rubbing your sleepy eyes as you surrendered your gadgets, not even wanting to put up a fight, just glad to see the back of such an awful week. Bucky had let you choose a takeout to order from, keen to get some real food in you before making sure you got a good long rest to combat those dark circles forming under your eyes. Within 20 minutes of finishing dinner, your sleepy eyes became too heavy to hold open. Bucky hated seeing you so worn out, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to bed, thankful that you had changed into your pyjamas before the food had arrived so he wouldn’t have to disturb you too much. His heart melted at the sight of you clinging to his thin cotton pyjama top, craving the comfort his body afforded you even when you were sleeping.
But God, waking up the next morning, he was reminded of exactly how much comfort your body afforded him. Your hair was fanned out on the pillow gently, your face looking so relaxed compared to how it had been all week, long eyelashes casting shadows on your cheeks in the early morning sunlight. Your little snores were still deep but fuck, the sight of you in only his shirt and a thin pair of panties had him harder than he could’ve believed possible without being touched. Suddenly, the room felt stiflingly hot, his whole body itching to touch you, to make you forget all about that terrible week, fucking all thoughts from your head until you couldn’t think of anything never mind work. He put it down to the fact that he had hardly so much as kissed you goodnight all week, his body going into overdrive from the pent up longing and frustration.
He couldn’t help how he noticed everything about your body this morning, the way your nipples pebbled quickly when he slipped his cool metal hand under your shirt to gently grab at your breasts, doing his very best to contain his satisfaction at the way you tried to lean into his touch. He also didn’t miss how your body responded when he ran one flesh finger over your clothed core, a little groan falling from your parted lips when he added a little extra pressure to your clit. He loved how your body was just so intoxicating, always ready to take him. After a few more teasing glides across your core he pulled your panties to the side, finding your body was reacting to him nicely, wetness beginning to drip from your needy hole. Without thinking, he shuffled down the bed, his tongue poked out, lapping gently at the sweet nectar he had drew from your body. He was so hard now it almost hurt, noticing how even in your sleep, the wetness between your legs only grew. Tiny whimpers fell from your lips as he pressed a metal finger to your entrance, sliding in with ease, tongue lapping gently at your clit.
“So delicious toots, takin’ me so well.” He whispered, knowing you couldn’t hear him but still needing to tell you. Your hands grasped at the sheets, fingers gently bunching them, stirring from your sleep but not quite conscious yet. Your walls were fluttering around the single digit, your high not far away.
“Christ, Bucky.” You whined, eyelids flickering open, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room and make sense of the overwhelming sensations between your legs at the same time. “What are you doing?”
“Havin’ a little breakfast babydoll, jus’ let me take care of you. Wanna make you feel good all day, okay? You aren’t leavin’ this bed.” His voice was so low and seductive, lips latching back onto your clit and his finger curling inside you. You could only nod, whining as the pleasure became too much, keening against his face to ride your orgasm out against his tongue. “Tha’s it toots, gimme more. Good girl.” He encouraged, working his finger even faster, prolonging your high for as long as possible. God he got off on this, your needy moans nearly too much for him to handle. But no matter how much precum leaked from his swollen tip, no matter how badly he needed to cum, so long as you were getting off, his pleasure was only an afterthought to him.
“Well good morning to you too.” You huffed out a little laugh as his finger eventually slid out of you.
“Sorry baby, couldn’t resist.” He smirked, wiping his now glistening chin with the back of his flesh hand.
“No complaints here Buck, it was better waking up to that than an inbox full of emails.” You chuckled, stroking his hair lovingly.
“It had better be, if you’d rather have the emails I’d be offended.” He laughed softly stroking the inside of your thigh with his flesh thumb. “But if you talk about work anymore I’ll have to gag you.” His voice was light and teasing.
“Maybe some other time Buck.” You chuckled, running a hand gently through his messy bed head, your high ebbing pleasantly away as your feet hit the plush carpet of your bedroom.
“Ah ah ah toots, what did I tell you? You aren’t leavin’ this bed today. Gotta make you feel good til you can’t think of anything but me.” He reached out, grabbing your legs to pull you back onto the bed, lips latched onto the soft meat of your thighs, fingernails digging into your flesh gently as he kissed you, a fire burning fiercely behind his eyes once more. God he meant it. You really weren’t going to get a minute’s rest today.
“I was thinkin’ babydoll, how many meetings did you have yesterday?” He asked thoughtfully in between sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin of your thighs
“Eight honey, why?” You managed to choke out.
“Wanna give you that many orgasms.” He stated bluntly as if it was the most normal request in the world. You knew very often Bucky got as much pleasure from making you cum as he got from cumming himself but this suggestion was something else. His lips on your thighs felt amazing, the little dusting of stubble burning as his face drifted up the inside of your legs, his eyes never leaving yours
“There’s no way I can handle eight.” You whispered, losing yourself slightly to the pleasure of his mouth on your sensitive skin.
“Course you can little slut, that’s one down, only seven to go. That’ll keep you nice and busy won’t it? By the time I’m done, work will be the last thing on your mind.” He made it sound so easy, so lovely, like it was absolutely manageable, enjoyable even, but you knew better than to dream of gentle orgasms, soft touches and sweet kisses. You knew that when Bucky got into the mindset that everything he did was entirely for your pleasure, it was all about tearing you orgasms from your trembling body in the quickest succession possible, one barely ending before the next began. This was the first time he had ever suggested such an intense session. His kisses got sloppier, his wet mouth making you groan as it connected with you core once more, panties pushed to the side. Fuck, his tongue felt incredible, broad, firm strokes over the entire length of your dripping sex. You pressed your lips together to stifle your noises, your hands sinking into the soft, dark hair on Bucky’s head to pull his face closer to where you needed him most.
“If you’re holdin’ those pretty noises back toots, I’ll add another orgasm on as punishment.” He quipped, mouth creating a seal around your clit before sucking hard to pull the filthiest moan from you he had ever heard. He was in his element, hard and needy and damn near ready to hump the bed beneath him for some relief but determined to absolutely wreck you before he could even think of his own pleasure. Without saying much more, he slid two metal fingers into you, admiring how they slipped in with so little resistance.
“That’s it, oh God you take me so well. Know exactly what your body needs baby, need to be fucked like a whore don’t ya? Gonna make sure you can’t even think straight by the time I’m done with ya.” He was almost growling in between little kitten licks to your clit, fingers plunging in and out of you, rubbing your silky walls perfectly.
“Bucky, more, fuck.” You hissed out, grinding your hips against his hand. The vibrations from the little laugh he let out in response felt amazing.
“God doll, you’re not gonna be begging for more by the time I’m done with you. Gonna have you begging me to stop. But since you were a good girl this week, I’m sure I could play nice for now.” He laughed, lips and tongue crashing against your clit, fingers working faster and his eyes trained on your face as he tore another orgasm from your body. You groaned out, rutting against his face, your juices soaking his fingers and tongue as you rode out your high, panting and whimpering deliciously for him.
“Good girl honey, did so well. Want you to ride me now, yeah? Want that little body on top of me. You just gotta use me to make yourself feel good doll, don’t even worry bout makin’ me cum. Want as many of those pretty moans as you can give me before your legs give out.” His filthy plans had you whimpering, knowing that when your legs turned to jelly from too many orgasms, that didn’t mean you’d be stopping. It just meant he would take over. You did as he asked, hopping up onto your knees while Bucky undressed himself, giving his proud, hard cock a few lazy pumps watching you remove your pyjamas. You positioned yourself above him, his metal hand lined his cock up with your soaked, already abused hole. Sinking down onto his length tore groans from both of you, Bucky’s flesh hand gripping your waist to stop himself from pushing you the whole way down too quickly.
“Tightest fuckin’ pussy, you feel so good for daddy. God kitten, this pussy is so hungry isn’t it? Needs me, I can feel it. You need daddy’s cock to make you feel good? Gonna take such good care of you.” He was losing himself in the feeling of your silky walls gripping him, wetter than he could ever remember you being before. But god, you had six more orgasms ahead of you, how on Earth was he gonna make it if you got any wetter? The thick drag of his bare cock inside you was almost more than you could take as you pulled yourself back up his length again, sinking down quickly until he was entirely seated inside you.
“So so big daddy, I can’t.” You wailed, the sloppy sounds coming from your pussy fuelling you to keep going regardless.
“Yes you can angel, doin’ so well for daddy. So tight around me, can hardly move. Nothin’ feels as good as you do. Fuckin’ live to be buried in this little pussy, you know that?” His filthy pants had you rolling your hips faster against him, not really fucking him, more grinding your pelvis against his with his length fully seated inside you. It was such a different sensation to being fucked, it just made you feel endlessly full, the thickness of Bucky’s cock stuffing you, the head nestled deliciously against that sweet spot inside you. Every little grind of your hips had him nudging that spot inside you, making your eyes roll back and your head flop to the side. And Bucky was absolutely obsessed. He couldn’t find it in himself to tear his eyes away from you, not knowing whether he wanted to watch how your breasts jiggled as you moved, watch down at the mess you were making where your bodies were joined or watch the look of sheer pleasure on your face. He loved seeing you take what you needed from him, knowing that he was still in control but letting you use his body to satisfy yourself.
“So deep ‘nside you toots, bet you can feel me in here.” He pressed his metal hand to your lower tummy, the coolness making you gasp. Everything felt like it was too much but the grind alone wasn’t enough to tear your building orgasm from you and of course Bucky knew that.
“Tell me what you need, tell me and I’ll give it to you.” Bucky whispered softly, lips dusting chaste kisses on your shoulders, flesh arm wrapped up your back, helping you move against him.
“Fingers daddy, on my clit.” You pleaded, eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hanging open slightly.
“Magic word toots?” He teased with a little laugh, flesh fingers dancing over your clit torturously.
“Metal ones daddy, please.” Your whine would have been mortifying under any other circumstances but right now, you didn’t care. Bucky raised an eyebrow at your little request, secretly thrilled that you got so much pleasure from his metal digits.
“Filthy girl.” He whispered, replacing his flesh hand with his metal one, rubbing between your bodies in harsh circles. The cool fingers felt even better, the ridges in the unrelenting metal only added to the sensations threatening to consume your body. It didn’t take long for you to feel yourself tightening, Bucky’s movements never even faltering as you hit your peak.
“That’s it, cum for me, good girl, hump Daddy’s big cock. Know how much you need this, know you love daddy fillin’ you up.” His eyes were completely trained on your face, loving how it screwed up in response to the words he mumbled in the quiet, early morning air. Your gasps didn’t stop as your high started to subside, mainly because his fingers didn’t stop. You tried your best to pull away, becoming far too sensitive very quickly but Bucky’s flesh hand on your hip held you in place.
“Want another one out of you before I let you move.” He whispered, fingers only speeding up against your overstimulated bundle of nerves.
“Can’t take it daddy, it’s too much!” You sobbed, face buried into the crook of his neck as your body twitched around him, another peak fast approaching. You knew you could’ve said your safe word if you needed to but deep down you knew you could handle it.
“I know you want it angel, c’mon, stop holdin’ back.” He growled, rubbing you even faster, dragging you screaming into yet another orgasm. You couldn’t help but bite down on his flesh shoulder as you came, your body shuddering, wet nectar dripping out of you and down over his balls.
“Oh fuck, soakin’ me, you know that? Pussy is drippin’ everywhere. Such a wet little slut for daddy, aren’t ya cupcake? Such a good girl.” Bucky’s praise only made your walls flutter even more, pulling a growl from his throat. Before you even got a chance to register what was going on, Bucky had you flipped over, ass in the air, face down on the bed with his cock still inside you.
“Can’t wait anymore toots, need this.” He grunted, fucking into you recklessly. You could’ve screamed from the overstimulation, body trembling, walls still trying to milk Bucky’s thick cock. Again, your last orgasm didn’t even get a chance to ebb away before you were being worked towards another one. Your back arched into the bed of its own accord, letting Bucky fuck deeper into you. Your whimpers mingled with Bucky’s grunts, sounds of skin slapping on skin filling the house.
“Pussy’s still clenchin’ me so tight, you’ve no idea how good you make me feel. Body’s always so ready for me.” Bucky was almost growling, his own need almost entirely taking over, eager to cum so he could get back to focusing on giving you as much pleasure as you could handle.
“Thank daddy for fuckin’ you. Thank me for givin’ you my cock raw like this.” He groaned, fingers drifting between your thighs to play with your swollen bud once more.
God, this was humiliating and you were loving every single second.
“Thank you daddy! Love your cock so much, think about nothing else. Love how you fuck me, love how big it feels, love your cum, just need more daddy please.” Your words were only broken by little gasps, Bucky fucking into you harder than you even thought possible.
“Tha’s it, God yes, takin’ me like a good girl, my best girl. Little pussy so hungry for daddy’s cum. That never changes, does it honey? Should just keep you plugged and full of me all the time. Only thing that could keep your needy cunt happy, isn’t it? Just a little cum whore. Gonna give you a load now baby, okay? Keep that little face pressed to the bed and ass up, want it all drippin’ as deep ‘nside you as it can get. Don’t want a single drop spillin’.” Sometimes you wonder where Bucky possibly learned to talk so dirty but right now you didn’t care, teetering on the brink of a fifth orgasm as you lowered yourself the way he wanted, his cock nudging your cervix in this new position.
“So deep daddy,” you whimpered, muffled slightly by the thick duvet as he pounded into you. His fingers rolling perfectly against your clit was enough to tear you apart, your body shaking, fingers squeezing the sheets as you rode out the electric feeling shooting the whole way through your body. That was all it took to drag Bucky over the edge too, not able to hold back with how your walls were tightening around him, milking every drop of cum into your body.
“So tight toots, can’t even move.” He groaned, stilling his movements to stay pressed right at the deepest point inside you. The warm feeling of his cum exploding into you was almost more than you could handle, knowing every drop had to stay there to keep Bucky happy. His fingers didn’t stop moving against your clit though, tearing as many aftershocks from your over worked body as you could muster.
“Bet there’s so much cum in you now.” He whispered proudly, kissing down your spine despite the thin sheen of sweat, slowly pulling out and humming appreciatively when there wasn’t even the slightest indication of the mess he had made inside you. You felt absolutely boneless, knowing you were over the half way mark but still nowhere near finished yet.
“Three left honey, how ya feeling?” He cooed softly, taking a second to stroke your hair and dote on you. His cock hadn’t softened at all but it rarely ever did after only cumming once during such an intense session.
“Feel good Buck, sensitive.” You whispered, flopping onto the bed with your eyes closed, sucking in deep breaths to steady yourself.
“Think you can take some more for me?” He asked quietly, placing tiny kisses to your shoulders and neck. You could do nothing but hum contentedly, letting him give you as much affection as he wanted.
“Need you to use your words sweetheart. Didn’t make you, dumb already, did I?” He chuckled, making you open your eyes to see that dashing smile
“Want more daddy, I can take it.” You nodded gently, noticing how his smile only widened at your eagerness.
“I’m so in love with you, ya know that?” He beamed, giving you a gentle kiss that was all teeth and tight lips, his smile still so evident on his face. “Won’t mind though if you need to stop. Want you to enjoy this babydoll.”
“No Buck, I can keep going. But we can cuddle afterwards, yeah?” You asked, placing a little tired kiss to his knuckles of his flesh hand.
“Oh honey, when we’re done here, we can do whatever you like. This weekend’s about you, jus’ wanna make you feel good.” He agreed, heart aching at the sight of you looking so beautifully fucked out and still asking him for more.
“Thank you daddy.” You smiled lazily, knowing it would get him right back in the mood to fuck you relentlessly through the final three.
Bucky groaned hearing the title fall from your lips again when he was least expecting it, cock bobbing deliciously in agreement.
“Fuck princess, you’re gonna be the death of me you know that?” He laughed, metal hand falling to grip his aching cock. “Jus’ you lie there angel, lemme do the work this time.” You sure weren’t going to argue, pressing your head back on the soft pillows as Bucky positioned you how he wanted you, slotting neatly between your spread thighs. Despite how kinky Bucky was, missionary was still one of his all time favourite positions. It was simple, comfortable, uncomplicated and he loved being able to see your face contort as he takes you apart, not to mention the perfect bounce of your tits when he slams into you. Bucky lined up with your soaked pussy, taking the time to make sure none of his seed from the last round had spilled from your core. Once he was satisfied that it was only your own juices that were coating your thighs, he pressed in, revelling in the gasp you let out.
“So warm and wet babydoll.” He hissed, head thrown back as he set a decent pace, thrusting in and out with his metal hand pressed to your lower tummy. “Swear I can feel myself in here, just so deep ‘nside you, aren’t I?” You couldn’t really believe how your body was still craving him, still needing more even though you were so fucked out already. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to reply, almost every coherent thought having been fucked from your head. The soft clinking of metal had you opening your eyes. But when did you close them? You had no idea, and far less did you care upon seeing Bucky hovering on top of you, his dog tags swinging in front of your face. Somewhere deep inside your brain you registered that he must’ve pulled them from the nightstand when your eyes had been shut but there was something about them that just made the sex that little bit better. He knew how much you loved them too, smirking down at you as he continued his leisurely thrusts.
“Like what you see?” His voice was deep and seductive, close to only being a low rumble. His abs rippled with every push into your tight heat, little grunts slipping past his lips occasionally, a light flush on his cheeks from arousal. What was there to not like about Bucky Barnes? You could only nod, trying to press your hips closer to his pelvis, wanting to pull him deeper than even should have been possible.
“God, you can’t get enough can you? My cock that addictive honey?” He teased, flesh fingers toying with your clit. You cried out quietly at the feeling, not understanding how you could possibly still need more. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you reached up, taking those jingling dog tags in your mouth, lips wrapping neatly around the chain. Bucky thought once more that he might cum then and there, just at the sight of your little pretty mouth enveloping his tags, the metallic taste covering your tongue.
“Need your slutty mouth filled too baby? Should’ve said somethin’, coulda had my fingers ‘nstead. But maybe you couldn’t tell me? Can’t get any words out now, can you? Daddy’s cock knocked all thoughts out of that little head, hm? That’s okay angel, daddy doesn’t need you to think, jus’ need you to cum. Think you can do that for me?” Your legs were shaking but you nodded you head regardless. As Bucky had been talking, he had dialled everything up a notch, fucking you faster, rubbing you in tighter circles, everything just felt incredible, your orgasm so close once more.
“Ah, daddy, please.” You pleaded, absolutely no idea what you were even pleading for anymore other than release. Bucky chuckled lowly from somewhere deep in his chest before giving you what you had begged for, pressing a little harder on your clit, rubbing in the same tights circles, dragging you through a painfully intense orgasm. Your teeth bit down on the hard metal in your mouth, trying to stifle the screams and whines that fell from you as every single vein in your body throbbed, desire washing through you violently. Bucky was completely and utterly obsessed with you, coaching you through your high with the same filthy grunts and promises that you had learned to expect from him.
As your high subsided, Bucky didn’t slow, if anything he just fucked you faster, not chasing his own release yet but loving how you looked like you had been fucked absolutely senseless, eyes rolling back, head crooked to the side, fingernails digging into his flesh, dog tags still in your mouth.
“You’re a fuckin’ picture like this doll, so beautiful for me. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” His thrusts had your tits bouncing back and forth, jiggling even more as you squirmed, trying to move away from him given how painfully overstimulated you were becoming. You screamed and yelled as his fingers picked up speed, slipping around from the insane amount of slick that had dripped from your hole.
“Come on little whore, cum for daddy, give it to me. Silly little slut can’t do anything but cum, can you? So fuckin’ good at it, no thoughts left in that pretty head of yours, daddy fucked them all out didn’t he? Love seein’ you like this, greedy pussy takin’ everything I give it. You’re an angel, you know that? My angel. Body’s always so ready for me.” Bucky’s voice was deep, strangled and needy, working you as fast as he could. Your legs couldn’t hold still as he pounded you, metal hand still pressing on your tummy so you could feel his cock even deeper inside you. It was all too fucking much, that ball of need inside you exploding once more making you scream, thrashing around under his huge body. Your rhythmic squeezing had him groaning, screwing his face up, unable to hide how good it felt.
“Last one princess, you ready?” Bucky asked softly, pulling out to give you a second. Christ, you looked wrecked but in the best way possible. His dog tags slipped from your mouth, spit trailing down your chin that you wiped away with the back of your hand.
“You sure you can take another? Need a colour toots.” Bucky probed gently, stroking your cheek lovingly, pushing your hair away from your sweaty face.
“Green daddy, just one more. I can take it.” You nodded weakly, fawning over the little gentle kiss Bucky pressed to your forehead.
“That’s my good girl.” He soothed. “I’ll make it quick, promise.” With that he hopped off the bed. You couldn’t really find it in yourself to care about why he had got up, taking the time to catch your breath and steady yourself but when he came back empty handed, you couldn’t help but be a little confused.
“Gonna move you toots,” he hummed quietly, shifting you onto your hands and knees at the side of the bed and that’s when you realised what he had been doing. Bucky had pulled one of the wardrobe doors open, specifically the door with the full length mirror, leaving it at an angle so you could see yourself from where you sat on the bed.
“Want you to watch yourself, see how pretty you look when you cum for me.” He groaned, harder than he could ever remember being in his life before. You whimpered even just at the thought, letting him slip inside you then pull your back flush to his chest. His whole body felt like it was surrounding you, probably because it was. His firm chest felt so comforting against you, both of his arms supporting your bare frame, casing you in against him. He pulled your hair out of the way, making sure he was able to kiss your neck and shoulders before beginning to piston his hips, fucking into you at a punishing pace. You were so glad he was holding you up, knowing if he took his arms away, you would be left to crumple onto the sheets. Your moans were so lewd you surprised yourself at how keen you were to just keep taking his cock. You knew you would feel empty without him inside you after such a long session but the emptiness might even be a blessing after this insane amount of stimulation.
“Look at yourself baby, you just came seven times for me and you’re still keen to go again. Still gonna give me ‘nother one. Cause you’re the best girl, aren’t you? So so good for daddy. Jus’ lettin’ me take and take from your body. You feel that mess sweetheart? You’re fuckin’ soaked right down to your knees, toots. All my cum from earlier drippin’ out of you. Don’t worry, got ‘nother nice big load to fill you with. Gotta give my best girl what she needs.” You hadn’t even noticed the sticky wetness between your thighs, the change in position letting it all seep out of you. You whined, high and needy as his fingers ghosted through the wetness, landing on your clit. His movements were smooth and methodical, rubbing you at the exact pace he knew you liked. He didn’t want to drag this out any more and he wasn’t even sure that he could last any longer.
“Cum for me babydoll, one last time. That’s it, good girl, hump daddy’s fingers. Excellent baby, doin’ so well for me, ‘m so proud of you, you know that? So so proud.” You felt your body clench harder than you had even thought possible, a strangled cry being torn from Bucky’s throat, his seed spilling so deep inside you.
“Ah, holy shit, can’t stop cummin’.” He panted against your neck, your head flung back onto his shoulder as the most intense high of your life took over. Your whole body was alight with pleasure and yet everything still felt so intimate in this position. Your bodies just felt connected in a way that you couldn’t even describe. Maybe you were just delirious with pleasure but it didn’t even really matter, chants of Bucky’s name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your pussy throbbed, aching and abused but not relenting in the slightest, if anything it only clenched harder around Bucky, milking every single drop of cum from him.
You practically collapsed onto the bed together, chests heaving, both spent and sweaty from the most exhausting morning of you life.
“Christ.” You whispered with a little content laugh, words not even connecting in your brain to form a coherent sentence.
“I agree.” Bucky laughed softly, pulling you practically on top of him, needing to feel you close and take care of you. “How ya feelin’?” He asked quietly, kissing your forehead and playing with your hair, being as delicate with you as possible.
“ ‘m good.” You hummed, giving him a little nod, taking in all the adoration he was offering.
“How bout a little nap, hm? You’re exhausted sweet pea. Then I’ll make us some lunch, yeah?” Bucky suggested, losing his mind when you snuggled yourself even closer to his body. You could only nod and give him a little smile, his fingers carding through your hair ever so gently. The hammering in Bucky’s chest was returning to a more natural thud, comforting you even more, your eyes closing of their own accord.
“My best girl.” He whispered, pressing more gentle kisses to your fragile body, little compliments and praises breaking the silence, lulling you into the best sleep of your life.
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Sweeter than Sugar
Summary: She broke his heart but you're not going to let her win. Bucky deserves the best and you're going to give it to him.
Pairing: Chubby Baker!Bucky x Reader, mentions of former relationship with OFC.
Word Count: 4K
Warnings: Smut, Oral (fem receiving), body shaming by OFC, language, mentions of insecurities. painful break up (not reader) bit angst, fluff. As always 18+ only.
A/N: Do not copy, rewrite, repost or translate my works. Comments and reblogs are welcomed. Beta'd by the lovely @deann and @makbarnes but all mistakes are my own.
A/N II: @star-spangled-bingo 2021 Squared filled: Curtain fic and @gotnofucks Body positivity challenge
"Wait till you try this. I think this is my best batch yet." Bucky promises as he pulls the tray out of the oven with his vibranium hand.
You cringe for a second before remembering that he can handle the heat.
You stretch, looking around the large bright kitchen. A fresh breeze floats through the open window carrying in notes of rain and freshly cut grass and the faint sounds of the neighbor's kids playing with their dogs.
Leaning back in your seat, you turn your gaze back to him, a faint smile on your lips as he blows on the pastries, cute little puffs he named after you.
His blue eyes shine under the soft yellow lights, an apron under the swell of his pudgy belly. He looks incredible, wearing only a pair of black boxers that stretch across the curves of his ass. His hair is pulled back into a small bun at the nape of his neck, and there's always something smeared across his cheek.
Yesterday, it had been red velvet frosting, and today, cherry.
Bucky scoops a puff on to a small white plate, grabbing a fork from the drawer. He beams, his entire face radiant as he walks towards you.
That's the look that makes your stomach twist and leaves you feeling dizzy.
Dating Bucky has been a dream. He's loving, kind and he looks at you with such love that you lose your breath just thinking about him.
According to him, you've improved his life in several ways; he swears his food tastes better now, that you somehow make his cakes perfect, his frostings sweeter, and well, he can’t look at a peach without grinning like a drunk-in-love idiot.
You’ve spent many late mornings and lazy afternoons watching him patter around the kitchen, listening to him explain his baking processes while you lounge in a chair.
You don’t understand half of what he’s saying, but he speaks with such passion, his hands animatedly flying in the air as he talks about chocolates, melting points, and the differences in pans.
Bucky has discovered early on that he loves to watch you eat. To be more specific, if it's his food. Only his food, if he’s being honest. He gets so nervous every time that his stomach plummets because he wants to make things for you.
Give you so many things.
Starting with your own custom-made pastry.
“Here, Peach, it just melts on your tongue,” his deep voice lowering to a near moan.
He slips the pastry into your open mouth, his thumb grazing over your bottom lip as you swallow. Oh, your eyes almost roll back in your head when the flavors explode on your taste buds. You’ve never tasted anything that wonderful.
“Oh my god, Bucky,” you gasp, leaning forward for more. “I-that’s so good! Can I have another?”
He grins, lopsided and wide, his heart thundering so hard it feels like it might fly out of his chest. Bucky will give you pastries as much as you want if you keep looking at him like that. He puts his all into his baking and the fact that you enjoy it makes him feel as if he can walk on air.
Bucky kisses your forehead as you chew, pushing away from the table, he slides on his sock-covered feet to the fridge. “What do you want to drink?”
“What do we have?” You giggle as he dances in front of the fridge, calling out options for you.
It’s hard to believe that the carefree man in front of you is the same one that was ashamed to remove his shirt a few weeks ago.
Bucky holds your hands at your sides, fingers laced between yours as he feasts between your thighs. He promised to make you come for him at least three times and you swear it’s been double that by now. His warm, wet tongue flicking over your swollen, sensitive clit over and over, sucking and pulling it into his mouth like he can’t get enough of you.
You moan incoherently, voice hoarse from begging and mewling, your legs limp around his broad shoulders. “Buc-Bucky, oh right there, Bucky,” you plead, feeling pressure build in your belly as his tongue traces patterns over you.
Bucky grinned, his face covered in your slick. He can’t remember the last time he had a better meal in his life. “That’s my girl, so sweet, need one more taste, just a little more,” he whispers before his lips wrap around your clit again. Your mouth falls open in a wordless scream, back arching off the bed when he gently shakes his head, sucking so hard that you see stars.
Bucky groans actually groans deep and vulgar when you cum,and you feel it as your body explodes, waves of pleasure surging through you until you’re gushing on his beard. He eases up, nuzzling into your puffy folds as you come down from your high. Bucky looks up, his dark slate-blue eyes taking in your heaving chest, a bead of sweat rolling down your belly.
“One more?” he says hopefully, wanting to dive back into your pussy.
Your eyes widen as you frantically shake your head. “No. Oh no. Bucky, I can’t, I really can’t, I’m not sure I can handle any more.” You laugh breathlessly, tugging one of your hands free from his tight grip. You rake your fingers through his hair, smiling down at him. "Besides, I’ve been dreaming about you fucking me until I can’t walk.”
A faint blush sweeps across his cheeks as he averts his eyes. “Peach,” he mumbles shyly like he just didn’t spend the past hour worshiping your pussy with his mouth.
Bucky stands up, wiping a hand down his face. He stares at his glistening palm for a second, and then his pink tongue darts out, swiping across the wet surface. You wonder if he’s aware that he's moaning, your pussy throbbing at the guttural sounds.
“You’re filthy,” you jest when he does it again. His face gets even redder as he sucks on his finger.
“You taste better than my pies,” he retorts. “I could eat you all day, every day.”
“Tomorrow, for sure, but right now I want you inside me.”
His smile drops a little when you tell him to get undressed. He’s been dreading this moment, doing everything he can to avoid it. You scoot back on the bed, reaching out for him. Bucky looks down at his body, at his belly, his eyes narrowing, he scratches the back of his neck, telling himself he can do this.
He lifts the edge of his navy blue Henley, freezing when he hears her voice in his head. “Who would want a fatty? No one is going to love you looking like that.” Even now it stings thinking about her. Bucky glances over at you, his heartbreaking at the thought of you rejecting him.
Bucky drops his shirt and reaches for the lamp. “One second.” He says. An unmistakable hint of sadness in his voice has you sitting up. He’s never sounded like that before.
You tilt your head to the side, searching his face. “Bucky, what’s wrong?”
“Just gonna turn the lights off first.” The corner of his lips lifts in a weak, watery smile.
You move to your knees and grab his large hand before he can switch them off. “Why?”
Bucky swallows, “no reason, just like the lights off, 'is all.”
Bucky’s admittedly good at a lot of things, but lying isn’t one of them. He briefly meets your gentle gaze, worry and fear swimming in his beautiful clear blue eyes.
Placing your hands on his chest, you grab his chin. “Bucky, look at me.” He immediately follows your soft command. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”
Bucky blinks, shaking his head, almost confused at the thought that you could do anything wrong. “No, no, you’re perfect! It’s me. I don’t wanna disappoint you.” His voice tapers off in a whisper, hearing her sharp laughter the last night they were together. “I know I’m fat, so it would be better if we turned off the lights, that way you don’t have to look at me. “
You stare at your generous, doting boyfriend. “Why wouldn’t I want to look at you?,” you question, befuddled because who on earth would jump at the chance to see a naked Bucky Barnes.
He shrugs a shoulder, his somber eyes drifting down. He grabs his belly and jiggles it. Another shrug followed by a quiet, “I look different with my clothes off.”
You crane your head back, “I love your belly, it’s perfect. Who made you feel like you have to hide it?”
Bucky sighs, rubbing his cheek into your palm. “My ex, Moxie- “
Bucky dated her two years ago. She latched on to him when he and Steve bought the bakery, wanting to be the girlfriend of the rising baking star.
Bucky slowly gained weight as he sampled his baking and designed dessert menus for local restaurants, his joy for baking expanding each day, finally getting to see his dreams become reality.
He hadn’t noticed the changes in his body until one night Moxie cruelly pointed them out.
He was getting ready for bed, eager to be with his girl after a full day of running around. He had been telling her about how another restaurant wanted his input, so excited to share his news that he didn’t notice the way she glared at him.
Tossing his shirt in the hamper, he turned to her and smiled, his hands on his belt. “I’ve been thinking about you all day baby, I can’t- “
Moxie sneered at him, pretending to gag. “Are you serious?”
Bucky’s brows furrowed. “Um, what?”
“Um, what,” she mocked, pulling the blanket up to her chest. There's a pause, tension seeping into the room. “You know what, I have to say it, I can't take this anymore James. Look at you and look at me, why the fuck would I let you touch me anymore?”
Moxie sighed, “can you put on your shirt back on or something because that- “she gestured at him “-is disgusting” She let out an irritated groan when he flinched at her words.
A punch to the gut would have hurt less. Bucky felt his heart split. “Moxie,” he whispered, unable to find words to express the pain currently ripping through him.
“Look, I didn’t sign up for this, you were in shape when we got together, what the hell happened to you? Why do you think I stopped letting you touch me.” She ranted, ignoring his soft pleas for her to stop.
“Either lose the weight or I’ll fuck Steve, at least he still looks good.” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, yawning, “can you go somewhere else, I don’t want you accidentally rolling over me and squishing me in your sleep.”
His mouth floundered open, but he couldn’t speak. It all hurt too much, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe, the air was too thick and his chest grew tighter with each breath; he needed to get away, terrified of what might happen if he cried in front of her.
Bucky shuffled out the room, his heart shattering with every step. He thought she was happy, that he made her happy. Her laughter following him out to the hallway made his head droop even more.
What did he do wrong?
He spent the night on the couch, staring at his old pictures through tear-filled eyes, Bucky always had a little fullness to him, but he was always happy with his body. And he had been having so much fun with the grand opening and all the new opportunities that he never noticed that he stopped needing belts and his shirts were a little snug over his belly.
Bucky called Steve, his best friend fuming when he told him what happened. By the time he was done speaking with him, Bucky felt a little better, his heart may have been in pieces but he knew what he needed to do.
He kicked her out the next morning.
Much to Moxie’s surprise and Bucky's. He may be chubby but he's not going to be her pushover either.
Bucky ignored her apologies and said she had to go. It shocked her when Steve had shown up with a roll of garbage bags, tossing them at her feet with a sharp quip that he doesn’t fuck losers. Both men stood side by side, watching silently as she packed her belongings.
The only things she left behind were his broken heart and a few nagging insecurities that plagued him.
He finishes, his broad shoulders slumped under the weight of his confession, you want nothing more than to stamp out the sadness marring his beautiful eyes.
“I thought she loved me but--“ he sighs, “--I don’t want you to look at me the way she did, I love you too much, Peach, and I know I should probably lose a few -”
You’ve never been angrier in your life. You want to punch little Ms. Moxie in her throat, she better hope she never runs into you because they will have to pry you off of her.
Clearing your head, you clasp his face in your hands and pull him down for a kiss. “Bucky Barnes, you are the sweetest man I know, you’re beautiful and I love everything about you.”
You silence his objections with another kiss. “I mean it Bucky, I love all of you. You don’t need to change anything.”
Bucky swallows the small protest, letting himself relax. You’re not her, you won’t hurt him. Placing a kiss on his soft, round belly, you murmur, “you have no idea how sexy you are, honey.”
You stand on the bed, holding on to his bicep for balance, and tug his shirt off. Looking down at him, you bite your lip. He’s ridiculously handsome and you’re going to prove it to him.
You pepper kisses along the curve of his neck as you sink back down, praising him and telling him how much you love him, describing in vivid detail how each part of his body is perfect.
His confidence and love for you growing with each word. By the time you reach the band of his boxers, he panting, his eyes darkening with an almost feral need to possess you.
Bucky tears off the last barrier keeping you from him and he pounces. You giggle as he pushes you into the soft blankets, the solid, comforting weight of his body encompassing you as he kisses you with such passion you forget to breathe. His warm lips melding into yours, his wet tongue dipping into your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue as it dips into your mouth.
Bucky reaches down with one hand, grabbing his cock, his other hand cupping the back of your head as he deepens the kiss. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours so he can gaze into your eyes. Bucky watches your mouth fall open, a gasp pouring out when he guides his thick cock into you.
He rolls his hips, moving deeper into your wet, hot heat. “That’s it Peach, you’re so good,” He brushes his lips across yours, swallowing your oh Bucky as he stretches your tight pussy around him. The slight burn gives aways to pure bliss, you circle your hips after a minute. A quiet I’m ready breathed into his mouth.
Bucky thrusts languidly into your pussy, each deliberate slow drag of his throbbing cock against your soft walls sends bursts of pleasure up your belly and down your spine. His lovemaking tender, yet so possessive that your head is reeling.
He makes sure that you feel all of him, each inch as you clench down, greedy for more of him, even as he goes deeper and deeper, his soft lips caressing your neck. His body keeping you pinned, so you have to take everything he’s giving you.
That pressure builds again, heavy and hot in your belly, digging your heels into the top of his thighs, you meet his strokes, pleading with him to please move a little faster, you need it so bad.
You don’t have to beg; he wants you to cum for him; he wants to feel your sweet pussy flutter around him as you cry out his name.
Bucky sucks a bruise on your throat, his hips pounding into yours. The headboard smacking against the wall with each powerful thrust. The dull thuds drowned out by your loud moans, the pressure getting more intense.
“Bucky,—” you cry out, scratching his lower back when he grinds his hips down, “—oh fuck, do that, do that again,” you frantically chant, slapping your hands on his ass, keening when he does, god yes, he does it just right, hitting a tender spot inside your cunt so hard that you bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming.
“That it Peach, is that what you need.” He slips a hand between your bodies, his wide fingers circling your clit, “Go on, cum for me, give it to me Peach, be my good girl, and cum for me.”
You do, your walls clenching down as the pressure snaps, sensations firing off as your orgasms winds through you. Bucky’s pace falters, becomes erratic when he feels you milking his cock, unable to hold himself back any longer he lets himself go, relishing in your warmth until he spills inside you.
He tries to roll off of you, but you wrap your arms around him, murmuring for him to stay for a minute. You smooth your hands over his slick back, Bucky relaxes on top of you, grinning at your contented sigh. “I love you Peach.”
“Love you too,” you respond, plotting all the ways you’re going to let him know how much he means to you.
After that night, you began to praise Bucky, complimenting his body every chance you got, smacking his ass whenever he walked past you, hugging and kissing him.
The first couple of weeks, he would hide his face behind one of his large hands and his cheeks would resemble one of his bright red apples. “Peach, you don’t have to, I mean I’m-” he would stammer each time, always tucking his hair behind his ears.
It took you three days to figure out that he has a praise kink and you amped it. He barely opened his eyes before you were saying something that made him hide his face behind his pillow, laughing when you wiggled under it to tell him how good he looks when he smiles.
While you loved making him blush, you cherished how confident he became. And you reaped the benefits, one second he was a bashful baker with buttercream frosting on his forehead, the next he was bending you over his counter, railing you so good you couldn’t even scream his name.
After a while, he stopped avoiding the bathroom mirror in the mornings. And you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face, the first time you saw him cooking, shirtless, in the kitchen. He turned when he heard your footsteps, his face turning that familiar shade of red as you openly gawked.
“C’mon Peach, don’t you start-” he playfully grumbles, his lip twitching as he held in his smile, he moved back to the frying pan turning off the stove as he braces himself.
You squeal, flinging yourself at him, peppering his back with kisses. You couldn’t contain the litany of praises on your tongue, so proud of him. Bucky twisted in your grasp, cupping your face in his hands. “God I love you Peach.”
Bucky and Steve are celebrating the grand opening of another bakery. The largest one to date. The new building is full of investors, press, other bakers and chefs, a live band playing in the corner, drinks, and food everywhere, and of course the tower of desserts in the middle of the room. The atmosphere light and airy, glasses clinking, people dancing and every kind of cake, pies, and pastry imaginable on silver platters through the room.
You’ve never had so much fun, although a slightly buzzed Bucky is having an even better time because you’re wearing one of his favorite dresses. You remember when he first saw you in it, you twirled out of the dressing room and he nearly lost it in the middle of the store.
The more he celebrates, the more he’s giving you that look. Steve has to keep interfering, he’s close to going feral in front of all his guests.
Steve sent him to the kitchen after he caught him trying to put his hand between your thighs. You’re laughing as a contrite Bucky gets up from the table to refill the rapidly diminishing display.
“You know I’ve known Buck my whole life and I’ve never seen him this happy.” Steve remarks as he takes a seat across from you. His warm blue eyes glistening. “Thank you for that. He’s been through a lot and you’re the best thing that happened to him.”
Your cheeks get heated at his words. Steve leans forward, holding your hand between his. “I mean it, even though he’s getting on my last nerve talking about you.“
Steve squeezes your hand as he looks up at the ceiling for a second. “God, the man never shuts up, and I’m this close to strangling him if he compares you to another peach, but I love-“
He cuts off, his head jerks back so fast, you think something struck him. “What the fuck is she doing here?”
You turn around in your chair, searching the crowded room. “Who are you talking about?”
“Moxie,” Steve spits out, his hand curling into a fist. “White dress by the bar.”
You find her flirting with one of the investors. Moxie puts her hand on his chest, her shrill laugh cutting through the surrounding conversations. Whatever she tried fails spectacularly. The tall, sturdy blonde grimaces and walks away. You would almost feel bad if you didn’t want to slam her face into the wall.
She spots Steve and waves, making her way through the crowd. “Hey, long time no see.”
Steve raises a brow, his eyes hardening. “Why are you here?”
She laughs, patting his shoulder. “I’m here to apologize to Bucky, I know he misses me, he must be lonely.”
“Really?” you question, keeping your voice light and even.
Moxie dismissively glances at you before returning her attention to Steve. You chuckle under your breath, tapping your heel on the floor.
Don’t ruin your man’s event. Don’t ruin your mans’ event. You repeat the thought as you inhale through your nose.
“So I heard you two are doing really well.” She says, her manicured nails roaming over Steve’s suit. “Really well.”
Steve flicks her fingers off him, “We are. No Bucky’s not lonely. He doesn’t miss you. He’s very happy. With her.”
Moxie’s polite veneer cracks when Steve points at you. Waving your fingers at her, you grin at her. “You go near my Bucky and I’ll rip that cheap necklace off and shove it down your throat.”
She turns to Steve, gesturing to you as if she's the innocent one here; he raises his glass, blowing a harsh breath through his lips. “Don’t look at me, I still don’t fuck losers, but I’ll call if you if that changes.”
You laugh in your empty glass when she sputters. She turns to you, hand on her hip. You slowly raise your eyes, returning her stare. Part of you wanting her to do something, so you can wipe the smirk off her overly painted face.
“Whatever, I don’t need this. Keep the fattie. I can find another rich loser like that.” She snaps her fingers, storming over to the bar. You blink a few times in disbelief. The audacity of this bitch, thinking that she can stay and mingle at his event.
You're debating if you should have her thrown out by one of the staff or if you should drag her out by her hair.
You look her up and down as you ponder your choices, pausing when you see the edge of a tag sticking out the back of her dress. Hmm, interesting. She must plan on returning it after tonight.
A devious smirk slowly takes over your face, you know exactly what you’re going to do to little Ms. Moxie.
You glance at Steve, picking up his wineglass. Steve shakes his head while grabbing your hand. “Hey hey, I know what you’re thinking, and no.”
Before you can say anything, he’s pouring more burgundy wine into the glass until it’s nearly sloshing over the sides. “If you’re going do it, you gotta do it right.”
You exchange knowing glances. No one hurts Bucky. You saunter over to her, keeping your hand steady, not wanting to lose a single drop on the floor.
“Hey Moxie,” you call out. She turns around and you ‘trip’ over your heels, the deep red liquid flying forward in a perfect arch, splashing across her ivory dress, her face and you even got some in her hair.
“Oops, gosh, I am so clumsy,” you state, hiding your grin as she shrieks.
Steve jumps up, offering to help before she can swing at you. “I got you, darling.”
He places a hand on her back, quickly ushering her away “a little club soda will get that right out,” he reassures a pouting, whining Moxie.
He's lying through his teeth, that stain will never come out. Steve gets a peek at the price tag, almost laughing at the $899 imprinted on the card. He maintains his façade, leading her through the room, he stops, giving her a wide smile.
“And you can find some at the drugstore down the street.” He states, opening the front door and pushing her out. Her indignant shouts cut off when he slams the door in her face.
You throw your head back and cackle, startling some guests around the bar, you apologize for your outburst between fits of laughter, wiping the tears pricking at your eyes. You wave down the amused bartender, placing an order for you and Steve.
Steve joins you, raising his fresh glass of wine in a toast. “No one fucks with Bucky.”
Neither you nor Steve realizes Bucky saw the whole thing. He ducks back into the kitchen, clutching the tray of Cannelés to his chest. For weeks after the breakup, he had rehearsed what he was going to say that next time he came face to face with Moxie.
But what you and Steve did was even better, the love of his life and his best friend always looking out for him.
Loving him unconditionally.
And just like that, the last traces of his insecurities vanished.
Later that night, you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder. He smiles at your hand on his belly. He places his large hand over yours, wondering how he got so lucky to have you.
And if Steve would kill him if he named another dessert after you.
He’ll risk it.
4K notes · View notes
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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all the good things
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: bucky's been more than a little happy recently. sam thinks it has something to do with the pretty girl on the team.
author's note: based on a prompt and idea sent in by a lovely anon of mine, "i haven't seen him smile like that in ages." hope u like it x
It was a stupid lie.
One that Sam thought would be funny and harmless and okay, maybe a little cruel, but harmless regardless.
It was supposed to be harmless.
Because Bucky never smiled like that. Never looked so happy.
And Sam noticed it.
He noticed it the morning they had to leave for Germany.
“Plane’s all loaded. Tony said he’ll meet us in Berlin. Everyone ready?”
Clint groaned, “We’ve been ready since your five a.m. wake up call, Rogers.”
“Why was that necessary again?” Natasha asked.
Steve narrowed his eyes, “You know why.”
“We’re not always late, Steve. Cut us some slack and Clint - Clint don’t you dare take my spot. This is like Moscow all over again —“
Sam zoned them out because he noticed Bucky standing there. Right by the door with his hands twitching and he knew something was up.
Something that involved a really pretty girl, dragging herself in all late with heavy, sleepy eyes. You looked like you hadn’t slept all night and something about it made Sam want to laugh.
He didn’t though.
Not when you dropped your head on Bucky’s chest like that.
Sam watched as his hands stopped twitching.
“‘m so tired.”
“Yeah? Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up so late watching those reruns,” Bucky pointed out.
You grumbled something and Bucky laughed.
“I got her bag, man.” Sam interrupted.
Bucky looked over at him and nodded.
“I got her,” he quickly said, without thinking. “Got you, right, Y/N?”
“Mhm. Got me, Buck.”
Bucky smiled and Sam noticed that smile didn’t move from his face for a long time. A good twenty minutes. He didn’t know why he was paying attention to them so much. Maybe because he knew something was there. Something good was there between them and Sam liked when his friends had good things.
Even if those good things came during a ten hour plane ride.
“Alright, so Fury set us up in this hotel across the club. Tony said it gets pretty crazy around there, so going undercover will be no problem. However, we do need to watch out for these guys,” Steve handed out some profiles. “Ex-assassins. Pretty intense. Last Fury heard of ‘em they were in Chicago doing some high intel work for —“
You walked in, yawning and took a seat right next to Bucky. To everyone else, it seemed normal. You always sat next to Bucky and you always looked like that when you did. All bright-eyed and happy. Sam just didn’t know if the team knew what that was because they were too focused on Steve.
Sam focused on you though.
Focused on the way your head fell on Bucky’s shoulder and focused on the way Bucky moved his hand so you could look at the profiles together.
“Sleep well?” Bucky murmured.
“Yeah, yeah. Missed you though.”
Sam acted like he couldn’t hear them.
Like he hadn’t heard them.
But he had and he did and he needed to talk to Steve about it because he couldn’t be the only one noticing them, right? Everyone had eyes just like he did so they must have noticed.
They must have.
At least Steve would’ve.
“There’s something going on between them,” Sam tried explaining to Steve in the middle of the market. They were in some farmers market in the middle of Berlin. “I’m telling you, man, you —“
“Yeah, Bucky’s —“ Steve sighed. “He’s tryna figure it out. Doesn’t think he deserves her.”
Sam took a sip of his coffee.
“And you haven’t tried convincing him that he does? Just - just look at em’” he nudged his head over to you.
You were walking around the market with Bucky beside you. It looked like you were trying to keep an eye out, get a good glimpse of the area surrounding the club, but really couldn’t when one of the workers stopped you. Stopped to talk about some fruit he was serving and Bucky stopped too. Wrapped his arm around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder.
Sam knew he had to do something when you reached out and instinctively tangled your hand in Bucky’s hair. The worker said something that made you two laugh and Bucky turned his face into your neck to stop from laughing too much. From smiling too much.
“I haven’t seen him smile like that in ages.”
“Me too,” Steve agreed.
So Sam had to do something. He had too and alright, maybe he hadn’t gone about it the right way, but it got him where he wanted and that’s all that really mattered.
Sam swore he’d never seen Bucky so pissed off before though.
“Is she getting it?” Bucky asked.
They were at that stupid club. The one that was about to get ransacked by those ex-assassin assholes if they didn’t move fast enough. Bucky was at one end of the bar while you were at the other, trying to get some code from some German guy. Sam passed by to make sure things were going smoothly.
“Yeah, she’s trying too. He won’t stop flirting with her though.”
Sam watched as Bucky’s gaze fell.
“Is she flirting back?”
“Think so. Think she’s trying to get his number and code in one go. Pretty impressive if you ask me.”
Bucky’s fist clenched and Sam mentally praised himself. He shouldn’t have because yeah, he lied, but it was harmless, okay? And just because you weren’t flirting with stupid German guy didn’t mean he couldn’t lie about it because stupid American guy wasn’t making any moves either. So, getting him a little pissed wasn’t going to hurt anybody.
Except maybe the ex-assassin assholes who walked through the door. Sam believed Bucky knocked all five of them out in less than ten minutes.
Steve didn’t even have to come in and Clint and Natasha stayed on the roof. Tony too.
No one got hurt the entire night.
Except maybe Bucky.
And you because the next morning on the plane Bucky wouldn’t speak with you.
“Hey, Buck,” you greeted. “Someone didn’t come to my room last night to watch our reruns.”
Bucky didn’t respond.
You looked at him.
“Hey, Buck, I’m talking to you.”
You tugged on his sleeve and he didn’t budge.
“Grumpy,” you teased. “Grumpy, hey, we don’t take off for another 10 minutes so why don’t stop staring out the window and look at me? Hm?”
“Don’t you have some German guy to text?’ Bucky shot back. “Real shame if he didn’t hear from you before you left the country.”
Bucky wanted to scoff. He wanted to scoff so bad.
“German guy? What German guy? Buck I —“
“Can’t even reply to my text when we’re one floor apart, but you’d do long-distance with him?”
“Long-distance? Who said anything about long distance and what German guy?”
You waited for him to say something and he didn’t.
“What German guy, Buck? And would you stop grumbling things under your breath and just look at me? Please.”
Your hand went to his jaw and you turned it to face you.
Bucky removed your hand from his skin.
You sighed and a part of you wanted to be irritated, it really did, but he was just upset. He looked really upset and you didn’t want to make him more upset, so you didn’t push. Not too much anyway but there was still a misunderstanding and you needed to fix it.
Now. You needed to fix it now.
So you got up and took a seat on his lap. Right on his thigh and rested your back on the window.
“That isn’t safe.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, “Pretty sure I’m safer here than there. Don’t ya think?”
Bucky didn’t say anything.
You held back a grin.
“Now how about you tell me what’s got you all grumpy? Hm? I can see that little crinkle on your forehead and you know —“ you smoothed it out with your thumb. “You know how much I don’t like that.”
“I can’t fix it if you don’t talk to me, Buck. Communication, remember?”
“You could’ve told me you wanted to…see other people. I know we aren’t together and I know it’s stupid that I’m being like this and if you want to be with German guy than —“
“What German guy?”
Bucky looked away from you.
“What German guy, Buck? There was…is no German guy. There’s no one but —“
“That guy from the club. The one you were flirting with.”
You were taken aback for a moment and stayed quiet. Really, you didn’t know why you stayed as quiet as you did for as long as you did, but Bucky must’ve thought that he was right when you did. That your silence was an I caught you moment because he started moving you off his lap. Started unwrapping your arms from around his neck but you stayed put.
“I wasn’t flirting with him. I would never —“
And you’d be mad, you really would, but he was just hurt. He was hurt so you leaned forward and nudged your nose against his cheek. Against his stubble.
“Hey, grumpy, don’t do that. You know I’d only flirt with you.”
“Sam said —“
“And Sam jokes a lot. What makes you think he wasn't joking?”
Bucky didn’t say anything.
“You really think I’d do that to you?”
Bucky sighed, “No, no I know you wouldn’t. I guess it just —”
Sam cleared his throat and Bucky’s head shot to him. There was a smug grin on his face and Bucky immediately went, “I’m gonna kill him.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am. I can’t believe he would...you really...“
And he didn’t have to continue for you to know what he wanted to say. You really didn’t flirt with him? You really didn’t want him? It was written all over his face and all you had to do was tighten your arms around his neck. Card your fingers through the back of his hair for him to get the message.
His head fell on your chest.
“Am crazy about you, darlin’,” he looked up at you. “Just thought I lost you before I could make you mine.”
You stopped breathing.
“You wanna be mine, right?”
You blinked for a few seconds then pushed him back into the seat, kissing him a little too hard. Yeah, grumpy, I wanna be yours, you squeaked out because you were that excited. That giddy and Bucky laughed against your lips. Laughed and pressed his lips against that beautiful smile of yours even harder because he’d only been dreaming about kissing you like this for months. You even wanted to add that you’ve wanted to be his, well, since the first time you caught him watching reruns of that stupid baking show you always turned off.
Because to you it was too intense and fast and your life was already like that. Already too chaotic, but to Bucky it was calming. He found it calming so you started watching it with him.
She didn’t even leave it in the freezer long enough. How did she expect it to hold itself together? It’s chocolate, not glue, you’d always say. Always go on some tangent and Bucky really liked it. Found you funny and comforting and it really could've just been your voice. Your voice was sweet and smooth, but it wasn’t just that. It was you and all of you and he fell in love with all of it.
All of you.
Just like you fell in love with him when he rested his head on your shoulder and fell asleep right between you one night.
“Got me, Y/N?”
“Got you, Buck.”
So, the kiss felt like that. Like sleepy nights and baking shows and home and just everything good.
Sam could tell.
After all, he liked when his friends had good things.
Even if he had to make a few harmless lies to get them.
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Alright whore, you asked for this 😘
Stepdad!Bucky making reader squirt for the first time then going completely feral and shoving her face in the mess she made while he just fucks her into the mattress
Make A Mess For Daddy
Holy fuck, I did ask for this didn’t I? 🥵
Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky x 18+F!Reader
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, jealousy, stepdad/daddy kink, p in v, squirting, humilation, mess kink. 18+.
Word Count: 500ish
Bucky's jealously often reared it's ugly head, and he never failed to take it out on you.
He'd been waiting for you that night, sipping a whiskey over ice in his armchair when you crept through the door just after midnight - glaring at you accusingly as you kicked off your shoes and tried to ignore his frustrations.
You thought maybe tonight was different, that maybe he'd just let it go and allow you to disappear to your room without even so much as a snide remark about your date with Peter. You were wrong, of course.
"You fuck that kid tonight, huh? Walkin’ around dressed like a whore, bet he couldn’t keep his grubby hands off you." He grunts - sharp, insistent stabs of his cock against your cervix causing you to wince in discomfort. Bucky never cared for your pleasure when he was like this. Possessive, marking his territory, fucking you until all you can remember is his name. "I asked you a question. Better fuckin' answer it, princess."
"N-shit-no!" You rasp, your mouth dry from panting into the comforter. The sound of your pussy squelching around his cock is hypnotising. No other man would ever compare to him. "I didn't. I swear."
"That's right, you fuckin' didn't. You know who this slut cunt belongs to, don't you?" He fucks you harder with each word that slips from his filthy mouth, pushing you further towards the edge, an unfamiliar pressure building in your abdomen - burning between your thighs. "Let's see how much of a mess you can really make, shall we? C'mon baby, make a mess for daddy."
Bucky pulls his cock free of your cunt, nudging your knees apart as his hand slips down - fingers finding your clit and rubbing it with a ferocity that makes your eyes roll back. Your face pressed into the mattress, you sob at the pressure inside you, an intensity you've never experienced before.
"Daddy, I can't-" he shuts you up with a harsh pinch at your sensitive nub, but you can't stop. "Doesn't feel right, please, I think I need to-"
A sharp slap of his palm against your pussy sends you hurtling - bliss searing through your veins and your knees weak as you feel moisture pool beneath you.
"Well fuck, would you look at that?" Bucky hums, damp fingers curling around the back of your neck as he tugs you up against his chest. He tightens his grasp and forces your gaze down - the large, dark patch of moisture staring you in the face. "You did make a mess, didn't you baby?”
Shame swirls in your gut as he chuckles against your ear, dragging your body backwards just enough so that when he forces you back down, your cheek squelches against the moist puddle of arousal - the taste of it marring the corner of your mouth.
“My nasty girl, that’s what you are.” He grunts in satisfaction, sliding his cock back into your overworked channel, his balls slapping against your clit when he picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Lick it up, princess. Be a good girl and clean up after yourself.”
God, it makes you cringe how much you enjoy it. Makes your pussy tighten up around his girth, has you rocking back against him - the globes of your ass bouncing off his hips.
You do as he says, tongue slipping out to lap at the mess beneath you; his palm splayed out against the side of your head, forcing to hold your position.
"That's it. Get it all. When you've cleaned that up, I'm gonna make a whole new mess - just for you."
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first name basis
in which only you can call bucky by his first name
word count: 1.6k
a/n: hi bffs !! hope ur all well <33 thank u to this request for this v fluffy fic <333 hope u guys enjoy ! sorry for any typos :P
It was quiet, the soft pattering of raindrops on the window and the city ambiance filled the Brooklyn apartment. It was somewhat empty, but Bucky had said it was just because he had just moved in. You knew he was lying.
The two of you were sat up with your backs against his headboard, scrolling through channels to find something to watch. He had an arm around you, holding you close to him. You were leaning into him, your head lightly resting on his chest.
“there’s never anything good on anymore” bucky grumbled and you smiled.
“you sound like an old man” you chuckled, taking the controller from his hand and flipping through channels, finally settling on some nature documentary about lions.
“i am 106, you know that right?” He teased you and you rolled your eyes, elbowing him lightly and causing him to groan dramatically. His antics made you elbow him even harder, laughing as he pouted at you.
“oh boohoo” you teased him, sticking your tongue out. Bucky gasped, eyes widening at your actions.
“i cant believe you” he frowned, smiling as he tackled you and caused you to fall over, he pinned your hands above your head, looking at you with soft eyes. “you’re gonna pay y/n” he smiled, peppering kisses all over your face before finally gently placing his lips onto yours.
It was a soft and tender kiss, nothing but pure love and sweetness. The kind that you smile into and blush while your lips are still connected, the kind bucky always wanted.
As the two of you pulled away he wasted no time in pulling you to his side, leaning against his headboard and letting your head rest comfortably on his chest. It was quiet, neither of you speaking and just focusing on the lions on tv, occasionally making comments about how cute the cubs were.
“your middle name is actually Buchanan?” You blurted out, causing bucky to jump a bit. He looked at you confused before nodding his head.
“yeah it is, why?” He smiled at your question as you thought silently.
“dunno, it’s just, Buchanan” you giggled and bucky blushed.
“are you making fun of my middle name?” He asked, trying his best to hold back the smile on his face and you shook your head quickly.
“no! i mean, a little bit i guess” you laughed and bucky smiled brightly at you, loving the sound of your laughter.
“i can’t believe you” bucky frowned and you pouted, moving up to kiss his jawline.
“oh angel, you know your middle name doesn’t change a thing between us” he smiled at your words, loving the way you so easily caved. “tell me your full name” you smiled at him, “wanna hear you say it” you giggled and he rolled his eyes before sighing.
“James Buchanan Barnes” he spoke, his voice smooth as he stared at you, a smile on his face when you hummed.
“James” you spoke, the name rolling off your tongue like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. Buckys heart raced, his face flushed and his stomach was in knots. “you know that’s a lot better than buchanan” you teased, craning your neck a bit to look at bucky.
“say it again” he whispered, his heartbeat in his ears as you looked at him confused.
“that your middle name is ridiculous?” you smiled and he shook his head.
“no doll, my name” his voice was soft, just above a whisper.
“James” you repeated the name, smiling at the bashful smile on his face and the way his face flushed as you spoke his name.
“‘t sounds nice when you say it” he mumbled, his face was hot and you scrambled to sit up, cupping his face with one hand and kissing his lips before speaking up.
“well, how about we toss bucky out the window and i call you james, yeah?” You suggested and he nodded, smiling at you before crashing his lips onto yours.
Bucky didn’t know what it was about it. Maybe it’s because you were the only person since steve to make him feel like himself and not like an ex assassin. Maybe it’s because you helped remind of who he was, not the winter soldier but James Barnes. Maybe it was the way you said his name and it sounded as sweet and smooth as honey. Bucky didn’t know and he didn’t really care much, he just knew he only wanted you to call him that.
“hey guys!” You smiled as you and bucky walked into the compound hand in hand, giving the team a small wave before you and bucky headed into the kitchen.
There was some big game on tonight and the team was having a watch party, everyone gathered into the living room excited as they watched some pregame stuff. You and bucky were working in the kitchen, you had offered to make dinner so you wouldn’t have to pay an absurd amount for some takeout.
The sound of the tv was quieter and you and bucky were quick to take out all the ingredients needed from the kitchen, placing them on the counter. Bucky loved helping you cook so the two of you moved easily together in the kitchen.
Sam and steve walked into the kitchen, smiling as they saw you cooking, the smell of the food in the air.
“you guys need any help?” Sam asked, looking at how easily you and bucky handed things off to each other.
“could you help set the table up? the forks and spoons are over there” you smiled and Sam nodded, grabbing the stack and handing the forks to steve. “James can you pass me some of the salt please?” You asked, not thinking twice, bucky handed it to you with no hesitation.
Steve and Sam were grounded in their spots, shock on their faces as they processed your words.
“did- did you just call him James?” Steve asked, brows furrowed at you. You smiled at him and chuckled, completely confused as to why it was such a big deal.
“yeah, why? I do it all the time” you shrugged your shoulders, bucky had a bashful grin on his face, grabbing some cups and shoving his friends away and towards the table. Steve and Sam looked at bucky as he set some cups down on the table with them.
“so they can call you James but when i do it i get a knife two inches from my face?” Sam spoke crossing his arms across his chest and frowning at his friend. Bucky rolled his eyes, ignoring him and going to get more cups.
“can you tell everyone the foods ready?” You asked bucky, grabbing the plates and placing three filled with food into his arms. He smiled, kissing your temple before heading to the dining room.
“foods ready!” He called out, you could hear the team cheering as they all sat down around the table, excited to eat.
“james can you come get these please!” You called out, everyone whipping their head around to you.
“wh- James? You call him James?” Rhodey scoffed and you looked at him with furrowed brows.
“well yeah that’s his name isn’t it” you laughed and he nodded quickly.
“i called you that one time and you threatened me” Rhodey spoke and bucky blushed, taking the plates from you quickly and rushing to give everyone food so they would stop talking.
“glad to know I’m not alone” Sam laughed, looked at Rhodey, natasha nodded.
“he told me to not call him that” steve frowned and you felt your face heating up.
You were the only one that called him James. You could feel your heart fluttering as you locked eyes with bucky, smile on your face when he walked over to you to get the plates for you and him.
“didn’t know you were so protective over your name buchanan” you teased and he rolled his eyes, the rest of the team already eating and talking amongst themselves after you told them to hurry and eat before the game started.
Bucky smiled and snaked his arms around your waist, leaning down and kissing you softly, the two of you smiling into the kiss before pulling away.
“only like it when you say it doll” he whispered and you blushed, heart skipping a beat as he kissed your forehead and let go of you, carrying the two plates in his hands and leaving you in the kitchen. You but your lip and smiled, following him quickly and eating with the rest of the team.
While steve and Sam cleaned the table up and tony and peppered filled the dishwasher you cuddled up with bucky on the couch, eyes closing when he ran his fingers through your hair.
“i love you” bucky mumbled and you smiled, “love you so much y/n y/l/n” he spoke, kissing the top of your head.
“and i love you so much james bucky barnes” you whispered, placing a soft kiss to his cheek before cuddling back into his chest, eyes fluttering shut.
His stomach fluttered and his heart skipped a beat. Sure it had been thousands of time that you had spoken his name, calling him james in any and every tone. But everytime he found himself blushing and smiley, he found himself wanting to hear you say it again, and again and again.
Maybe it was because you helped ground him. Or maybe it was because you helped him become himself again.
As bucky looked at your breathing peacefully on his chest, drifting to sleep despite the the cheers from the rest of the team he realized why he loved hearing you say his name.
It brought him back home. And home was here, with you.
It was with you and his family as they watched a game together, huddled together and squished into three sofas.
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Make It Up To Me, Barnes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 4.3k
Warnings: Arguments, divorce mention, Bucky struggles with communication, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex (wrap it), edging, size kink, Daddy kink, fingering, we all know Bucky would be a hoe for his girl in a sundress let’s be real, Married!Bucky, good old fashioned makeup sex
Summary: Bucky and the reader have an argument and she leaves him, Steve convinces Bucky to talk it out with her. Complete smut but they work it out!!
A/N: I imagined this as hate sex with Bucky and turned out a bit softer than I expected, I just live for the thought of hate sex with Beefy Bucky omg. Also can’t believe I’m at over 200 followers now, thank you all so so much!!
Minors, do not interact
“Damn Buck, I still can’t believe you let that one get away.” Steve taunted as Bucky sipped his beer. Both men were sitting in the comfortable wicker garden furniture, drinking together and people watching the other guests at the party. It was your annual neighbourhood barbecue and truthfully, it was the perfect day for it. There was a light breeze but apart from that, it was stiflingly hot outside but that was to be expected in the middle of summer.
“Trust me, if you were married to her, you’d get it.” Bucky sighed, just a little hint of venom in his tone, downing what was left of his beer. Even Bucky had to admit, you were looking stunning. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, the way that pretty little sundress made you look so modest and pure was killing him. You two had been married for a few years, with things getting rocky in the last few months. Bucky had been cold and distant, pushing you away, not answering your calls, giving you short answers and never turning up for dinner. Eventually things just broke down, despite your marriage councillor’s best efforts to get Bucky to open up. After one particularly bad argument a few weeks ago, you had packed up a bag and left, slamming the door behind you.
“You don’t fucking try anymore Bucky! I do everything around this house and you don’t even bother to show up for dinner! I don’t know what I did to make you hate me but God, you’re really punishing me for it, aren’t you?” You had spat, finally reaching your breaking point when he hadn’t shown up on time for dinner for the sixth night in a row, leaving you eating alone yet again. “You don’t even touch me anymore, you hardly ever look at me, what did I do wrong?” You yelled, throwing the dishcloth to the ground in frustration. It was horrible not even being acknowledged in your own home, while you still slept in the same bed, you didn’t speak after the lights went out. All the dinners you made with love for Bucky sat in the fridge until you had to throw them out and with no explanation as to what was wrong, it was becoming soul destroying.
“Nothing, leave it.” Bucky had hissed, still not even looking at you.
“For God’s sake Bucky, it’s not ‘nothing’. Talk to me.” You pleaded, running a hand through your hair, at an absolute loss for what to do next. You had this argument weekly for the last few months, with nothing ever changing. It was always the same with Bucky, he just wanted you to drop it and leave him alone.
“Leave it, I mean it.” He insisted firmly, not budging an inch. His huge frame had almost been intimidating as he got up to leave the kitchen, running away from the conversation yet again.
“Bucky I’ve had it. I’m at my wits end. If you leave this kitchen, so help me God, I’m leaving you.” You threatened, tears spilling down your cheeks, both from frustration and the soul destroying pain of seeing the love of your life shut you down, once again. Bucky hadn’t spoke, he just kept walking down the short hall to your living room, slamming the door behind him. Unshed tears spilled quickly and you felt your heart break in your chest. How had things got this bad? Your vision was blurry with tears as you packed a bag, stuffing some clothes into a duffle roughly, with little thought or care as to whether anything matched. You could hear the TV blaring through the living room door as you gave one last glance to the room your husband was in, before turning and heading out the front door and getting in your car.
“Still think you should’ve just talked to her. She was good for you Buck.” Steve offered, making the dark haired man furrow his brow even more than it was before.
“I spent enough of my life being controlled Steve, I didn’t need some nagging wife trying to control me too.” Bucky snorted with derision. Deep down, he knew he could’ve been more open and honest with you and he knew it would’ve saved both of you from a whole lot of heartache but he was in far too deep to admit his mistake now. The worst part was he knew everything you were doing had come from a place of love. You hadn’t been trying to control him but once he let his head get the better of him, there was no coming back from it.
“From where I’m sitting, it looks like she only ever tried to take care of you. The girl just wanted to make sure you ate properly for God’s sake. I don’t see why you let her leave you.” Steve’s disapproval of the circumstances of your breakup was more than evident. He didn’t even try to hide the fact he thought losing you was the biggest mistake Bucky had ever made. He would’ve been happy to keep his opinions on your separation to himself if it hadn’t been for the fact that he had witnessed first hand how miserable Bucky had been since you split, no matter how hard he tried to pretend he was fine. Bucky didn’t reply and opened another beer instead, pressing the cool rim of the bottle to his lips. His eyes hadn’t left you all evening, watching as you swayed happily with the hem of your sundress flowing around your knees. You had hardly even looked in his direction, truly seeming like you were thriving after your split. The thought of you moving on ate him up inside. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were seeing someone new, it had been almost a couple of months after all, you could’ve found someone else in that time. The thought of anyone else touching you was more than he could bear, making his knuckles of his flesh hand turn white from how hard he gripped the beer bottle.
You had made your way around most of the crowd at the party giving lemonade top ups before you decided you should probably offer some to your ex-lover to save face. The knot in your stomach pointed out exactly how you would rather do literally anything other than go over and make painful small talk with the man you had lost but you still loved with all your heart.
“Lemonade, boys?” You offered with a smile, only letting yourself look at Steve and not at the man who was still technically your husband.
“Yeah y/n, sounds great, doesn’t it Buck?” Steve encouraged, lifting his glass to let you fill it. Bucky only nodded in response, doing everything in his power to not look at your legs trying to stop wondering if someone else was spreading them these days.
“Here ya go Buck.” You smiled curtly, bending at the waist to fill his glass that he hadn’t even bothered to lift off the grass. Bucky drew in a sharp breath at how close you were to him and how your sundress rode up just a little, showing off those gorgeous thighs.
“Thanks.” He huffed when you straightened again, doing his best not to look at the little jiggle of your ass as you walked away, taking lemonade to another little group of neighbours.
“Christ Bucky, that was painful. You need to talk to her. Sort things out.” Steve insisted, noticing the little breath Bucky let out now that you were gone. In truth, he hadn’t even realised he was holding it.
“Yeah.” Bucky huffed out simply, leaving Steve unsure if he actually meant it or not.
The rest of the party was pretty uneventful, you relaxed on a picnic blanket, chatting to some of the other ladies about the books you were all currently reading before helping with the dishes and clearing up. Almost everyone had went home already when their kids had got tired, drained from running around all afternoon in the summer heat. You had spent the best part of the last hour stretched out on the picnic blanket alone, just enjoying the light evening breeze, reading one of the books your neighbour had let you borrow.
“Buck if you don’t go talk to her, I will.” Steve threatened, noticing how Bucky was staring at you yet again.
“You wouldn’t.” The dark haired man hissed, eyes never leaving you. It killed him to admit how lost he was without you but the fear of you rejecting him, confirming his suspicion that you were doing just fine without him was more than he could handle.
“Try me.” Steve replied curtly, watching as his friend’s expression became even more annoyed. Bucky’s jaw was tense as he pulled himself up from the wicker chair, crossing the short distance to where you sat on the blanket.
“Can we talk?” Bucky asked as calmly as he could, his huge frame blocking the sunlight.
“I don’t know? Can we?” You replied, being as short with him as possible, stomach flipping with nerves at having to make awkward conversation for the first time in weeks.
“Maybe somewhere more private? Back home?” He suggested, ignoring how difficult you were trying to be. He knew you had every right to make this worse on him, it was his own fault after all.
“Fine.” You huffed, closing the book and standing up, dusting down the little skirt of your dress. Bucky led the way back to your house, only a few doors up from the little park that you had just spent the afternoon in. God you wished your heart could slow down, praying that he wasn’t just taking you back home to sign the divorce papers. You both walked in silence, Bucky unlocked the door and held it open for you, letting you walk inside and then closing it behind him. The house seemed exactly as it had when you left it and you were thankful for that at least.
“How’ve you been?” He asked softly, getting both of you a beer from the fridge, popping the cap off with his metal thumb. That had always been his favourite party trick. You took the bottle from him gratefully, settling into a chair at your kitchen island before taking a sip.
“Been busy.” You offered quietly. You knew you couldn’t say you were good, Bucky would’ve seen right through the lie. He just nodded, taking a sip from his own bottle.
“Missed you.” Bucky admitted, looking anywhere but your face. You didn’t say anything in response, just taking another sip from your bottle. There was so much you could’ve said, you missed him too, he could’ve called, things didn’t have to be like this but instead you kept your lips pressed tightly shut.
“You look good. Happy.” Bucky had barely whispered the last word, making you question whether he had even said it at all.
“And are you? Happy? Enjoying life as a single man?” You asked, giving him a little smile, heart breaking into a million pieces and just praying your eyes didn’t show it.
“No doll, I’m not. Miss having you around.” He seemed so much smaller, leaning against the other side of the kitchen island, beer resting on the dark granite countertop. “Miss waking up beside you, miss kissing you goodbye when you go off to work, miss your cooking.” He continued, finally daring to look you in the eye. The lump in your throat felt like it might consume you, tears welling in your eyes.
“You haven’t done any of that in months Buck. Even before we separated.” You pointed out.
“You with someone else now?” He asked, voice more than a little broken.
“No Buck, there’s no one else.” You reassured him, noticing how he stood up a little straighter. “Never wanted anyone but you. Thought you knew that.” His eyes seemed to light up at your little admission. He still had a chance. He could still win you back and spend the rest of his life making up for the fact he had been so damn stupid. Before he knew what he was doing, he had rounded the island and captured your lips in a searing kiss, hands clinging desperately to your hair. His huge thumbs caressed your cheeks and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. God you had missed this, the passion and need that came with loving Bucky Barnes. His mouth was hungry on yours, making up for months of longing all at once. He clung to you desperately, his mouth moving against yours like a man starved. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch, his huge frame warm and comforting and familiar against your own, making you feel tiny.
“Missed you. So much.” He panted between needy kisses, not even taking the time to pull his lips from yours as he uttered the words.
“Missed. You. Too.” You managed to mumble back, tugging on his belt loops to pull him impossibly closer. Before you knew it, Bucky had lifted you up, gripping your ass with his flesh hand before placing you gently on the kitchen island, his lips never leaving yours as he did so.
“ ‘m so sorry doll, for everything.” He whispered, his bright blue eyes showing just how sincere he was, slotting comfortably between your thighs.
“Make it up to me, Barnes.” You whispered with a little smirk, crashing your lips against his again, needing this just as much as he did. A low growl was ripped from his throat at how fiercely your tongue slid over his, the need to feel you again almost consuming him. His hands slipped under the skirt of your little sundress, grasping the soft skin of your thighs firmly, the metal one feeling cooler against your skin than the other.
“Shit baby doll, you’re absolutely dripping.” He hissed, snaking his flesh hand to the apex of your thighs, finding them slick already, your underwear had been soaked through long ago. You could only moan in response, holding the back of his neck, lips parted, as his finger tips ghosted over the soaked lace. “Look so pretty like this doll, so ready for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.” His fingers barely teasing the thin material.
“You’re not in any position to tease Bucky.” You hummed, voice barely above a whisper. Looking dead in his eyes, you could see how badly he needed this, how he was thriving off the little moans and sighs he pulled from your lips.
“You’re right toots, bet you’ve missed these fingers. No one makes you cum like I do, not even yourself, isn’t that right? Bet even when you touched yourself it didn’t feel as good as when I do it. Your fingers just don’t make you feel as full as mine do.” You hated how every last one of his words had been right. He could play your body like a violin, knowing exactly how to coax orgasm after orgasm from you when he wanted to, leaving you with shaking legs and that fucked out look in your eyes that he loved so much. He pulled your underwear aside painfully slowly, trailing just one finger from your clit to your needy hole, before swiping back up again. His touch was still featherlight, only teasing but it was enough to drive you wild. Ever so slowly, he dragged his finger down your pussy once more, slipping it in you up to the first knuckle, connecting his plump lips with your neck at the same time. The light dusting of his beard scratching against your neck as he sucked you brutally, finger sliding deeper was almost too much. After each dark hickey he sucked, he made sure to soothe the tender skin with his tongue, pulling moans from you that were nothing short of obscene.
“Need everyone to know you’re mine. My wife.” He half groaned against your skin, admiring the dark bruises forming. He couldn’t help but love how you rutted against his finger desperately, needing more of him.
“Bucky please.” You pleaded, looking at him with that soft expression that made his heart melt.
“What do you need baby doll?” Bucky cooed, holding your face with his metal hand, curling his flesh fingers inside you until he hit that sweet spot you couldn’t reach on your own. He was truly obsessed with how your face warped into the perfect vision of pleasure, mouth falling open, eyes squeezing shut as he tore a groan from your bruised throat.
“Need more.” You managed to huff out, keeping your eyes closed, grinding helplessly against his hand. The sight of your plump, wet lips, parted ever so slightly as you rode his hand could almost have made him cum then and there.
“Anything for you toots.” He smiled, plunging a second finger into you, groaning at the stretch of your walls as you accommodated him. “Even tighter than I remember baby doll.” He praised. You could only whimper as his fingers flexed and curled within you, the wet sounds coming from your pussy were nothing short of obscene but that only fuelled him, making him work your body faster. “You’re so close toots, you wanna cum for me? You gonna be a good girl and cum on my fingers?” He coaxed, bringing his metal hand down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. You nodded weakly, letting him work your body in the way only he knew. “Who owns this little pussy?” He asked, feeling you reach your peak but stilling his fingers before you had a chance to fall over the edge, letting the sharp edge of you impending orgasm fade.
“You do Bucky! My pussy is yours!” You gasped, willing to do anything if it meant he would just let you cum.
“Damn right it is.” He growled lowly, lips finding his way back to your throat as he let his fingers continue bringing you blinding pleasure. It didn’t take long for him to send you spiralling into the most intense orgasm, your body tightening, clenching and gushing around his fingers. You practically screamed his name as you rode out your high, grasping his wrist and clamping your trembling thighs shut around his hands as he continued, tearing every last wave of pleasure from your body. “Fucking delicious baby doll.” He groaned, sucking the evidence of your orgasm from his fingers. You huffed out a little laugh, running a hand through your hair to steady yourself, leaning back on your other arm for support. “You’re like a fuckin’ wet dream sitting there, you know that?” He smiled, taking in the sight of his wife in her pretty little sundress, panties pushed to the side and thighs slick with arousal. “Hair all messy, lipstick ruined, pretty little pussy on display to the world.” His words sent a shiver down your spine, sparks of need shooting through your body. “Can’t believe how stupid I was to let you leave.” His tone got a little more serious, blue eyes full of regret.
“Hey, I’m back now. No harm done.” You soothed, opening your arms so he could slot himself between your thighs and hug you close. The scent of his familiar cologne was all you needed, little kisses peppered against your shoulder as Bucky buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Now take me to bed and fuck me like our marriage depends on it.” You laughed quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.
“No pressure then.” He chuckled, scooping you off the counter and carrying you gracelessly to the bedroom, both of you laughing together as he did so. “You know, half of me wants you to keep that pretty little dress on.” He smiled, setting you down on the bed gently, layering his body of top of yours so he could press needy kisses to your lips.
“Oh yeah? And what does the other half of you want?” You teased, fingertips digging into his firm back.
“To rip it off you.” He replied simply, fingers playing with the hem of the skirt. “Gently though, want to make sure it stays in one piece. Looks so damn good on you, gotta show you off some more.”
“Make up your mind Barnes, you can’t have both.” You laughed, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them down his legs.
“Take it off.” He decided, pushing his jeans the rest of the way down before pulling his shirt over his head. He watched hungrily as you rose to your knees on the bed, pulling the dress up over your head before letting it fall to the floor. “No bra? God, you really are a wet dream.” Bucky all but groaned, joining you on the bed, his lips sliding against your own as he pulled your underwear down your legs. You placed both hands on his firm chest, pushing him back onto the plush pillows, slotting one leg either side of him, leaving you straddling his waist. You couldn’t help but rut against him through his boxers. He felt absolutely huge, so long and thick, nestling perfectly between your folds. Little whines escaped your mouth as you lost yourself in pleasure, not even needing him inside you for him to make you feel incredible.
“Soaking me toots, you know that?” He growled in your ear and you gripped the headboard for leverage, practically humping his clothed cock. “Making such a fucking mess, little slut, you like soaking daddy’s cock like that? Like feeling how hard I get for you? Don’t you want more baby? Or is just Rockin’ against my cock like that enough to make you cum?” His hands gripped your thighs tight, helping you to slick him up.
“Need to fuck you.” You gasped out, finally pulling his boxers off and positioning yourself above him once more, sinking down onto his cock slowly. The stretch was almost unbearable, your eagerness to have him inside you conflicting with the pain of your walls fighting to accommodate him.
“Too big for you baby doll? Been too long since you took daddy’s cock, hmm? Promise you won’t ever have to go without it again. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you, promise.” His filthy growls only made you sink down onto him faster, despite the pain until he was fully seated inside you. “You wanna fuck daddy princess? Wanna see you use me. Use me to make yourself cum. Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, just want you to cum as hard as you can, you got it baby doll?” He asked softly, cradling your face in his metal hand as you began to rut back and forth, loving how his cock hit the deepest spots inside you.
“You feel so good, so big Bucky, you’re so big.” You sobbed out, feeling the head of his cock nudge that sweet spot deep inside you. Bucky thrust up into you harshly, making you yelp.
“Think you mean daddy, toots?” He teased, thumb placed on your chin to make you look down at him. He looked absolutely perfect underneath you, hair messy, wet tongue poking out to soothe the lips that you had assaulted earlier. His hand went back to your thighs, helping you grind messily on his cock.
“Need more daddy please. Need you to -ah- need to cum.” Your whines were practically cries at this point as Bucky slid two flesh fingers between your bodies, nudging perfectly against your clit.
“That’s it, good girl, get nice and full and fuck yourself against daddy’s fingers. Look so good like this for me angel, so so pretty. Stuffed full of cock and rutting on my fingers like a needy little slut. Such a pretty girl.” He praised, making you speed up. His fingers nudged your clit just right, making you mewl. Bucky began to press his fingers against your clit just that little bit harder, sending you reeling into your second orgasm of the night. Before you could even come down from your high, Bucky had flipped you, laying you on your back with him on top of you, fucking you roughly through the aftershocks. You were practically screaming for him as he thrust into you, making sure you felt every last inch of his cock. You were so overstimulated it almost hurt as Bucky fucked months worth of need into your body.
“Love you doll.” He whispered, not slowing down at all before sliding his tongue over yours, all passion and longing and need.
“Jesus, Buck, cum for me, please Bucky.” You whimpered, grasping at his back and shoulders, fingernails digging into his flesh.
“This pussy is mine.” He growled lowly, hips stuttering as he came with a long, drawn out groan, filling you completely. Cum dripped out of you before he could even pull out, marking you completely and utterly as his. After a few minutes, he flopped onto the bed beside you, pulling you close and kissing your forehead, despite the thin sheen of sweat.
“Shit, if the makeup sex is that good, we should argue more often.” You laughed lightly, still feeling like you hadn’t quite come back down to earth yet. He chuckled lovingly, stroking your hair.
“I don’t know doll, wasn’t nice being without you. Don’t think I’ll be rushing to argue like that again.” He admitted, stroking your bare back tenderly with his metal fingers, noticing your heart rate return to somewhere closer to normal.
“I guess you’re right, missed having you around.” You smiled quietly, pulling him into a gentle kiss.
3K notes · View notes
listen I KNOW mafia!bucky is always insatiable for his girl but can you just imagine wearing him out and he just fucks you for hours and hours and you still want more and he’s just like ‘girl how I just- give me a minute to breathe, okay? Five minutes, that’s all I ask’
Bucky can't get enough of you. Before him, you thought sex was boring and you didn't think you had a gpsot.
He quickly showed you how wrong you were. It's been his mission to make you cum in every position imaginable.
Anywhere and everywhere.
His car, bedroom, kitchen, club, resorts, private beaches, the bathroom in the reception hall after Steve got married, your office, his office.
And your gspot. Oh God, he lost it when he found out you had never cum before him. Not only did he show that he could find it, he makes it a point to show you how real it is each time he touches you.
You've felt so good in your life.
He's ruthless in his pursuit of making you cum. Over and over again. Determined to make you addicted to him.
Bucky collapses on top of you, pushing you into the tangled sheets, his sweat slicked chest sliding over your back with each shudder breath.
You turn your head, wiggling your arm free under your body to weakly pat his ass. "God Bucky, that was incredible," you pant, voice raspy and sore.
"I know." He replies, so arrogantly you almost roll your eyes.
Looking around you see a sliver of moonlight through the open curtains. The room cast in shadows and twinkling colorful lights from the city below.
You reach up and turn his wrist so you can see his black diamond encrusted watch
Bucky brushes his lips across the back of your neck, murmuring, "sleepy doll?" . Bucky traces over your lips with his thumb. "Let's get cleaned up and I'll have the chef makes us something."
You groan, stretching your arms outward, pushing your ass into him. "Or we can go one more round." You say, sucking his thumb into your mouth with a sultry moan.
Bucky blinks. He blinks again. "Doll. After I just-. You need to give me five minutes." He laughs incredulously.
Your mouth flounders open, heat flooding your face as he rolls over. Holding your hand over your face, you peek at him through your fingers. "Oh god Bucky, I sound so-"
Bucky leans on his elbow, smirking down at you. He pushes his damp hair back with his other hand. "Insatiable. Cockdrunk. Greedy."
You cover your face with a muffled shriek. Bucky laughs again, a deep belly laugh, as he pulls you into his chest. "And I love it. You were such a good girl before I ruined you."
"Yes, I was." You mumble into his warm skin.
"Now you're my perfect doll." Bucky slaps your ass, making you squeal. "Here's the plan, I'm going to clean you up, carry you downstairs, make you something and then eat your pretty, greedy pussy while you eat some strawberries."
You glance up at his face. "Bucky we don't have to, I can-." He cuts you off with a kiss.
"I didn't say no. I said five minutes. You think I can resist a pussy this good." He winks, sitting up. "Now get that cute ass in the bathroom."
4K notes · View notes
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐛.𝐛
a/n: this is one of my favorites & it was inspired by the endings beginnings gif set
pairing: bartender!bucky x reader
reblogs/feedback/likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged! however, DO NOT repost/steal ANY of my fics!
warnings: 18+, language, oral (m & f), fingering, unprotected sex, fluff, sorry for any missed typos
The bar has cleared out from its peak hours. All that is left are: the regulars, a few college kids playing darts, and a newly single girl sitting alone at a small booth in the corner.
You stare blankly at your empty glass, spinning it slowly in your hands. The glass has been empty for quite some time- you desperately want to get more, but your body felt glued to the booth cushion.
The alcohol has worn off and all that is left is the light fog around the front of your head.
With all the strength you can muster, you scoot off the booth with the glass barely hanging from your fingers. You sniffle and take a deep breath before walking to the near-empty bar.
Plopping yourself down on one of the stools, you wait patiently for the bartender to get to you.
He has been refilling you all night- you’re surprised he hasn’t cut you off.
He watched you the whole night to make sure you weren’t going to get out of hand- but you never reached the “security come to get her”.
Just sat in the booth the whole night, dressed in your black skirt and a graphic t-shirt that's tucked into the sides- with your hair pulled away from your face.
You intrigued him every time you came in- coming in happy as can be, ordering fruity cocktails. It all turns to shit the moment the man, who he assumes is was your boyfriend, comes in. That's when the sweet fruity cocktails turned to the bitter taste of whiskey.
The same man was with you earlier, but he had left in a fury a couple of hours ago. This interaction wasn’t the first time he saw him leave like this.
He caught glimpses of the sour relationship throughout the months, as this bar is was “your spot”. He thought how much of an asshole the guy was when he’d leave like that, sometimes in the middle of you talking.
His blood would boil at the sight, wishing you’d leave him already- growing protective whenever you'd come in, security on stand by every time.
When the man left, you wouldn't drink much after- only sit for an hour or two. Based on the unusual amount of whiskey you consumed tonight, he assumed there was a breakup.
From years of experience, he knew not to cut off someone freshly broken up with. There were rules he had set for situations like this.
Number one: do not comment about what is wrong.
Number two: do not go past the bar (including helping to the car or walking home).
Number three: do not kiss or flirt.
Number four: do NOT by any means, take a girl home.
With the experience, he knew to never break these rules- it would lead to unnecessary yelling and people hysterically crying.
You were handling the loss of the relationship much differently than previous customers. From the months of watching from the sidelines, he had a desire to comfort you.
You didn’t cry- not really, just sat in the booth downing glasses of the cheapest whiskey the bar offered. Every now and then your eyes fill with tears, but that’s when the whiskey would come into play- prolonging the sulking session.
Nonetheless, he watched you made sure nobody messed with you, and left you to cope on your own.
“Refill?” He asks, bringing the bottle to the counter and twisting the bottle cap off.
“Water, please.” You lightly shake your head.
“Whiskey’d out?” The glass fills and you take it, not bothering to make eye contact with him.
“Uhm, yeah,” A faint smile appearing and disappearing.
He looks at you- your eyes are red from the strain. Sitting quietly, you sip the glass of water.
There is a mental battle going on inside his head. Debating back and forth about breaking his rules, but his mouth is faster than his brain.
Number one: Do NOT comment about what is wrong.
“For what it’s worth, he seemed like a dick.” Giving in, he says, attempting to cheer you up, but you are caught off guard by the comment.
You didn’t think he was paying attention to the events that happened at the booth. Glancing up at him, you finally pay attention to the man who has been supporting your drinking habits.
He wears a red and black plaid shirt with a black t-shirt underneath and you could faintly smell his cologne from where you were sitting. His hair is tossed about and facial hair covering his jawline.
You are mesmerized by the sight in front of you.
“He is, but I'm the idiot that keeps going back.” Mumbling defeated, you finish the glass of water.
Beginning the spinning again, zoning out on the empty glass.
“But… I think this time is for real,” You add.
Raising an eyebrow, he tilts his head in confusion.
“Cheated.” Anger builds in the pit of his stomach as he nods along.
“His loss.” He brings the water tap to the glass, stopping the spinning.
You let your grip on the glass go, letting him refill it.
Your eyes flutter to his, taken back by how icy they look. He breaks the focus by putting the tap back down. He holds out his hand-
“James, but people call me Bucky.” You hesitantly shake his hand. His palms are smooth, the grip soothing you.
Swallowing hard, you pull away.
“Y/N.” You give your best smile you could manage.
Bucky smiles back before tending to the other customers. You watch him pour fruity drinks into glasses and laugh with the others.
He is charismatic, but not over the top. It’s a natural charm he has, one that’s captivating. He is whipping away the fallen liquid and crumbs from the counter. The smell of the grease had eased, leaving you to assuming closing time is soon. The college kids have left, leaving the dart vacant.
The regulars are finishing their drinks, before throwing a five-dollar bill down before disappearing outside. Meaning the only person left is the newly single girl.
Every now and then, Bucky glances at you while he cleans up.
The bar closed almost fifteen minutes ago, but he didn’t mind the company. His managers and co-workers leave him, but not without reminding you to lock up and kick the girl out.
He had no plans of kicking you out till he is finished. The TVs are playing reruns of friends.
Glimpses of a smile would appear when a comedic scene would come on. Bucky wished he had seen it more, but it would fade like the fruitiness of the drinks.
“Oh god, I didn’t even realize you guys closed. I’m so sorry-“
You frantically getting up from the stool when you see Bucky locking the front doors.
“You’re alright to stay longer if you want,”
The truth is you didn’t want to leave because the moment you leave, you know you’ll be forced to face reality.
“I don’t want you to have to stay longer than you have to.”
He shakes his head, pulling out another small glass.
Filling it with water as well,
“I don’t mind the company.”
The words fell from his lips making your stomach flutter.
Number two: Do not go past the bar (including helping to the car or walking home).
Bucky scrunches his dirty apron that hung around his waist. Tossing it in the hamper that stays by the entrance to the kitchen.
You tense up as he takes a seat next to you. Bucky smiles gesturing to cheers your glasses. You smile nervously, clinking the glasses before bringing it to your lips.
Resting the cup on the counter, he is staring at you- mesmerized by your beauty, even in the aftermath of a disaster night.
You’re avoiding eye contact as you are flushed. He chuckles at the reaction. You go to hide your face in your hands but being cut off by the gentle sound of Bucky’s voice.
“Don’t hide, you look great.”
This only furthers your desire to hide behind the tallest wall you could find. The real truth is that you haven’t been looked at like that in so long.
Your ex only looks at you like a prize he has won, showing you off like a trophy. This gaze was soft and admiring. You manage to look back at him with a soft grin, the first time one this genuine appears across your lips.
“Are you okay?” The smile fades from your lips.
Bucky’s face scrunches with concern. You take a deep breath and begin to talk about the break-up.
Bucky intently listens as you begin to vent about the severity of the break-up. He had cheated throughout the whole relationship, gaslighting you whenever you’d bring it up. Making you believe this next go-around would be better, he’d stop the affair, he’d stop lying- all the make you stay.
None of them were true promises, because weeks later he’d be back in a random girl’s bed.
You explain the insane reasons you stay, and this brings Bucky to an unusually heated level. Normally when people would use him as a free therapist while bartending, he wouldn’t be this emotionally attached to the events.
Bucky wanted to find him and beat him to a bloody pulp by the end of the story. If he had known how badly you were treated by him, he would have spoken up at previous nights.
“You’re too good for him anyway. Fuck him.”
Bucky’s tone comes across as more aggressive than he wanted it to. You crack a smile at the protectiveness. It was nice to have someone to be protective for once.
“I don’t know…” Your voice is soft and just below a whisper.
When you look back at Bucky, his bottom lip is tucked under the top. He bites back the urge to cup your face and press his lips against yours.
Showing you how you should truly be treated. Making you feel like you’re worthy of every good thing in the world. His eyes are pleading and yours are begging for him to do something.
You wish for him to take your mind off your shit ex. Wanting to forget the shit evening you had experienced. You need his soft lips against yours. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes. Knowing you both want the same thing, his gaze drifts to your lips.
Bucky leans in closer to you. Your breath hitches, begging with your eyes that he’d bring his lips to you.
Number three: do not kiss or flirt.
He takes the side of your face in his hand, fingers resting just below your ear. Bucky’s thumb rubbing lightly against the corner of your mouth. He watches your lips slowly part. His thumb runs over your bottom lip, before licking his own. Your chest is heavier and the amount of self-control you were exhibiting should be awarded.
Bucky takes one last breath before bringing his lips to meet yours. His tongue slipping so effortlessly into yours. Colliding against yours hungry and desperate.
Your eyes are tightly shut and your body aching to be against his. Bucky's lips pull apart from yours, leaving the two of you panting. It is quiet for a moment, the two of you mentally decide the pros and cons of what is about to happen if you continue.
You bring your lips back to his, more eager. This time, Bucky’s other hand is brought to the other side pulling you up and out of your seat. One hand moves from your cheek to your waist, guiding it back toward the pool table.
“Jump.” Bucky breathlessly mumbles against your lips.
His hands leave the sides of your face, assisting you. You are roughly placed on the green felt, letting your legs spread open for Bucky to move between them. You are washed over by the guilt of using him. You pull away from the kiss using your palm as a barrier between your bodies.
“What’s wrong?” Bucky is quick to back away in fear he hurt you in some way.
“I don’t want to use you.”
His facial expression changes.
“You’re not using me- I just want to make you feel good if you want to stop-“
That is all the confirmation you need from him before you reach and pull him back between your legs. Bucky brings his hand back to the side of your face, cupping it rougher than before. His other falls to your waist, scooting you closer to the edge of the table.
You grip the edge of the pool table, digging your nails into the felted edges. His fingers are searching desperately for the edge of your skirt.
Bucky finds the end and slides his palm along your thigh, slipping underneath the fabric. Your breath hitches and a quiet whimper falls from your lips. You break away from the kiss looking down as his palm lifts the fabric up.
Bucky drops down in front of you, pressing his lips against your leg. He peppers kisses on the inside of your leg, not breaking eye contact with you.
The intimacy of eye contact is foreign to you- intimacy is foreign. Passion is foreign. Watching a man worship your body is foreign. This is an experience unmatched by anyone you’ve been with, especially for someone who you barely know.
His kisses are innocent till he reaches your inner thigh. His eyes are darker than before, you watch in awe as he doesn’t leave a piece of skin uncovered in a kiss. Bucky held the sides of your hips as he began to trail kisses closer and closer to your clothed heat. He wants you to feel better. He wants you to know that someone is willing to treat you like you’re supposed to.
“Do you want me to stop?” He breaths, ready to devour you.
You shake your head, granting him full access to your heat. It began aching the moment Bucky dragged his finger over the covered area.
You try and steady your breathing but watching him focus so intently on you made it harder for you to breathe. He becomes eye level with your heat. While licking his lips, he tugs on the band of your panties.
You gently lift, allowing them to be slid off in a swift motion. The cool air hitting the moist area sending shivers down your spine.
“Shit,” Your voice is soft and quiet, as Bucky's tongue dips in between your folds- tasting your arousal.
It is a taste he could easily become addicted to if he wasn’t careful. A craving that will sneak up on him at any hour of the day.
“So sweet,” His stubble grazes your inner thigh adding to the sensation that is unfolding.
His tongue is warm, soothing the chill. He is licking up all the juices that are leaking from you. Your soft whines encourage him to lick around your clit. He is teasing you every time he reaches it and pulls back down.
One hand finds a rake through his hair, tugging lightly for him to continue. Bucky's lips work their magic, licking you all up. Gliding between your folds. His lips stop at the top of your heat and he uses his fingers to spread you open, revealing your clit.
It is calling his name and Bucky's thumb rubs small figure eights around the sensitive nerve, warming it up. You’re shocked at the motion, whimpering.
“Please, stop teasing,” You whine,
“Whatever you say, baby,”
His lips close around the nerve, sucking lightly at the flesh. His fingers push into your heat, soaked in your juices. Your mouth falls open and a string of curses escape. He hums against your heat swirling his tongue around your clit.
His fingers move faster, curling every few strokes. Hitting your g-spot every time, forming the small knot in the pit of your stomach. You felt the stir of the orgasm creeping, you don’t hold back any sounds.
His cock twitches at the sound of you. Throbbing against his jeans, begging to be freed and buried inside you.
“Bucky, I’m gonna cum,” You buck your hips against his lips, unexpectedly as he picks up the pace of his fingers and his tongue.
The grip on his hair tightens as you feel your walls closing around him. Waves of sensitivity and pleasure overtake you, leaving a whimpering mess. You finish around his fingers and his tongue is catching all the juices that surround the area. He hums sweetly at the taste of you.
Bucky's palms are rubbing your outer thighs, soothing and cooling you down from your high. You relax your grip and place them on the pool table, attempting to steady you breathing.
“You okay?” Bucky chuckles, standing up once more.
His facial hair glistened with your arousal. You look down at him still in his t-shirt and jeans, his flannel thrown on the floor during the heated make-out session. You glance down to see his bulge.
“Very okay.” You chuckle, flushed red cheeks and chest still rising and falling.
You reach for Bucky's belt, tugging it toward you. Your lips collide again, this time slower and more passionate- not as hungry and desperate. Your fingers undo his belt and unbutton his jeans.
Before you could reach inside and return the favor, he stops you.
“I want to be inside you.” Your nod, scooting back to the edge of the pool table.
Bucky pulls himself out, his cock dripping with precum. He was ready for you the moment you kissed him. He strokes himself, coating his precum around himself. Your heat aches at the sight of him.
Bucky runs the tip between your folds, gliding up and down, teasing you. You whine each time he passes your hole. He positions himself at your entrance, you wrap your arms around his neck, closing the gap between you. Bucky's low moan is music to your ears as he slides himself inside you.
He is much bigger than you had anticipated. His strokes are slow and deep, allowing your body to adjust to his size. Bucky's lips are attached to the crook of your neck, sucking and nipping lightly at the flesh, his tongue soothing the nips.
“You’re doing so well, baby, with my cock buried deep inside you,”
His praises make your stomach flutter and your back arch. Bucky takes the opportunity and lays you down. Only removing himself to climb on top of you. You feel the roughness of the felt against your bare ass, but not having time to dwell once his cock fills you again.
“There you go baby, nice and deep,”
Bucky gains more access to go deep and faster than before. Your hips dig into the pool table at the intensity of the strokes. You are a whimpering mess, legs wrapped around his waist, anchoring him inside you, fingers clawing at his lower back- begging for him to go deeper.
Bucky's grunts and curses are all you hear as you feel the familiar stirring in your lower abdomen.
Bucky's cock twitches and his strokes becoming lazier. Your hands leave his back as Bucky's hands reach for them. You interlock your fingers, and they rest above your head. The passion between you increases the faster his strokes become.
Each stroke grazing your g-spot, simulating you further.
“Bucky, I need-“ Your eyes roll back as one hand finds your clit, rubbing small circles around the nerve.
He knows your close, but he is almost there too. Bucky speeds up his thrusts, but not removing the stimulation around your clit. His grip on your hand tights as he brings to grunt and curse.
“Fuck!” He grunts.
Both of you reach your highs. You see stars as you’re being filled up by him. His fingers loosen their grip around you and your clit. You’re hips buck and your walls pulsating wildly, milking Bucky dry of his load.
The two of you are breathless and exhausted. Never once has a man been able to make you finish twice in one go-round. Bucky collapses next to you on the small pool table. You turn to face him, but he is already staring at you.
“You are absolutely incredible,” You breathe.
His cheeks darken with red and his hand cups your face once more, pulling you for another kiss. You pull away, staring at each other for what felt like forever. Bucky is taking in everything. Your eyes, your lips, the small drops of sweat that were around your forehead.
Number four: do NOT by any means, take a girl home.
“Come home with me?”
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good morning kisses
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: bucky forgets to kiss his wife good morning.
authors note: this is in the same universe as my not tonight fic. however, u can totally read this as a standalone. it's just more about my fav married couple. thanks guys xxx
“Are you listening? I need to talk to you about –”
Bucky cursed, “Damn.”
“I can’t find my gun.”
You sighed, “Steve locked it with his after the last mission. Something about Tony fixing security in your cell. It’s right over – yeah, right there, Buck. Now can we talk —“
“Sweetheart, I’m running late.” Bucky pointed out, securing the gun around his waist. “Steve’s probably out there having a meltdown right now. I gotta go.”
“But this...this is important –”
Bucky pressed his lips against your forehead, “I’m sure it is and because it’s so important, how about we wait to talk about it after I get back, ya? That way I can listen real well and we can talk about it for hours.”
He kissed your forehead again, “That’s my girl.”
You grabbed his hand before he could walk out and ran your thumb over his ring.
“Just be safe, okay? I want you back in one piece. I mean it.”
He smiled, “Okay, sweetheart. One piece.”
It wasn’t supposed to be a hard day. Not at all. Just a simple one where you caught up on all the paperwork Fury had sent over and listened in on some meetings. The boys were out, so it was just you and Natasha and to be honest, you liked days like this. They were some of your favorites because Natasha always made time go by fast. Distracted you from the fact that your husband was out in the field and that he could come back hurt or – or God forbid, not come back at all.
It never got easier. Never.
But Natasha made it tolerable.
On all days, except today.
Today felt long and drawn out. Like time was at a standstill and that Bucky was never going to come home. You didn’t know what to do with yourself and it was getting frustrating as hell.
Bucky felt the same.
Frustrated because he felt like he was missing something, frustrated because he wasn’t able to talk with you this morning and beyond frustrated that the mission was taking longer than expected. He remembered telling the pilot to step on it once he got back into the jet. He needed to get home. Fast. He missed his girl and she needed to talk to him about something.
Natasha gave him a sad smile when he arrived back at the compound. It wasn’t what he was expecting. In fact, he was expecting you to be standing there, all excited, and ready to jump on him with full force. Plant kisses all over his face and give him one of those smiles that healed every part of him.
You’d completely ignore the fact that he was all dirty and sweaty, all because you were excited that he was home, because you missed him.
Maybe that was why he was all frustrated too. He missed you and date night got canceled last week. All thanks to some last-minute call they received from Coulson in D.C. It was aggravating as hell, always one thing after another and Bucky just wanted to spend some time with you.
Besides, you needed to talk to him about something important.
That reason alone was enough for him to cancel Steve’s invitation to a team dinner.
“Hey, sweetheart. I’m home,” Bucky announced, walking into your shared room.
He dropped all his gear to the side of couch, making a mental note to pick it up later because he knew you didn’t like when he left stuff lying around like that. Just like he didn’t like saying I’m home when you weren’t near him. Steve teased him about it often. Even recalled that one time you went out for a girl’s night with Natasha and Pepper. Carol was in town too and Bucky was stuck with the boys for the entire night. He may have complained one too many times about wanting to go home, and Steve always remarked back by saying you are home, punk and it wasn’t until you walked through the door and locked eyes with him that he said now i am.
It was stupid and cheesy, and Bucky liked that you made him like that.
“Baby, you hear me?” he furrowed his brows, crawling between you and that book in your hands. He didn’t know what you were reading but liked that you looked all snuggled up in his favorite black Henley. “Said I’m home. Even came back in one piece.”
You didn’t respond.
“You wanna talk about this morning?”
Still no response.
Bucky looked at you then the book then lifted his head to block your book because why weren’t you paying attention to him?
You placed your book on his head and continued reading.
“Oh, so it’s like that now?” Bucky teased.
“Are you gonna talk to me?”
“Y/N?” he tried again.
He pushed himself up on his arms, hovering over you so he could catch a full glimpse of your face. He couldn’t quite make out what you were feeling. Wasn’t natural because Bucky could always tell what you were feeling. One of the many perks of being married.
He tried nudging your cheek with his nose and placing a small kiss on it. You didn’t budge. He tried again and again and it wasn’t until he stuffed his face in your neck and planted more than a dozen kisses on it, that he heard you giggle. There it is, he thought to himself and kissed your skin a few dozen more times to get another giggle out of you.
“Wanna talk about it now? Hm?”
“Please, sweetheart. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention before. Am now.”
You sighed, placing your book on the nightstand.
Then you reached out and carded your fingers through his hair. He sighed and dropped his arms, letting his head fall into your chest. Right where it always went. Right where it belonged.
“I’m listening now,” he reiterated. He wanted to make sure you knew.
“I know you are.”
Bucky waited for you to continue.
“You didn’t kiss me this morning.”
“You didn’t kiss me this morning,” you repeated. “When we woke up? You didn’t kiss me. Thought you might’ve remembered before you left for work, but you didn’t and I – I”
Bucky was sitting upright now, staring at you as you spoke.
“I know I’m being dramatic… and I know it’s just a kiss, but,” you breathed out. “but you know my mom said the first sign she had of her marriage failing was when my dad stopped kissing her every morning? I don’t want that to be us. It can’t be us, Buck and you –”
Bucky kissed you before you even finished your sentence. All soft and sweet and like he was sorry because God, he was. So sorry because his girl loved him too good, was too good to him all the time and all he had to do was kiss her. Love you like he vowed to everyday and he forgot. How could he? It wasn’t like him and he tried to prove that by mumbling I’m sorry one too many times through the kiss. Tried cupping your cheek and kissing you harder when you told him it’s okay because it wasn’t okay. It wasn’t. Something had been missing from him all day and this was it. You were it.
I’ll never forget again, he added.
You pulled back and stared at him.
Bucky looked down at you. At your swollen lips and shy smile and kissed you again. God, he was never going to forget ever again.
And you could tell because he perched himself back on you, between your legs with the back of his head on your chest and handed you your book. He started reading with you and you almost wanted to ask him if he had been to the clinic. Got his arm checked along with that new little gash on his eyebrow or had dinner for that matter, but you knew he hadn’t. You knew he just wanted to be here with you. Needed it more than the clinic or dinner or even a shower because five minutes into the reading he tilted his head up to capture your lips in another kiss.
You were so gone for this man.
But not completely because when he started to doze off and turn his body to the side, so that his cheek pressed against your chest, you shut your book.
“Oh, no you don’t, handsome. Clinic first.”
“Don’t baby me. C’mon clinic first,” you pushed back his short hair and pressed your lips against his forehead. “Then dinner and a shower. C’mon, we can even have dinner in bed, but you need to get checked first.”
And he listened. Went to get checked with you, then came back and had dinner with you in bed. Took a shower too because he wasn’t going to not listen to his girl.
You were his better half and he liked listening to you.
That’s why he woke up early the next morning, lips pursed and ready to kiss you before you even opened your eyes.
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