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#bucky barnes x female reader
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Every Part of You
Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader A.N. - Alright, I've been asked to write about Bucky and Sunshine's first time many, many times. And the thing is, like sure, I could write that, but also I want us to take a moment to consider trying to build up to that. There's so many firsts buried in there that I think need to be navigated through before they even get there. This is one of those firsts. Like the first time you see Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series
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"You're just- " You stop speaking, searching for his lips again. Though you're breathless, you can't bring yourself to pull away from him, "You're so pretty."
You shudder as you feel his hand slip under your sweater. The occasional graze of the cool metal on your skin enough to send shivers down your spine.
His lips trail down, nipping at your jaw, "I'm not pretty."
Your hands, winded in the hair at the nape of his neck, glide down his neck, to clutch the fabric of his henley. The moment he feels your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, his heart hammers against his ribcage. Not in the sort of way that he usually feels in these moments with you. He feels a sense of dread, of panic. It wraps around his spine like a python. It feels like he can't breathe.
"You're so -"
He wrenches away from you, his chest heaving, "Stop, stop, stop."
You freeze, immediately dropping your hands. Panic starts creeping up your throat, coating your words. "Did I - did I do something wrong?"
He gulps, silently shaking his head. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, to regain the ability to speak clearly, "No, no, you're - you're perfect."
Guilt starts to eat at him. He can see you doing your very best to keep your own feelings off your face. He can see the sting of his rejection in the way your lips press together in a tight line. The embarrassment in the pallor of your once flushed cheeks.
You two have worked so hard to overcome your own personal issues and traumas, to build trust in each other, moments like these hadn't come easy. And he so callously pushed you away, it makes him feel worse. And what makes his heart ache even more, he sees nothing but concern for him shining in your eyes. You just look so worried for him.
Your hands rest in your lap. You twist and untwist your fingers. "If you don't want to, we don't - we don't have to do anything. I'm really sorry -"
"No, no, please don't be sorry." He reaches for you, gently squeezing your hand. It soothes him as much as it does you. "I want to. You don't know how much I want to."
"But?"
His eyes squeeze shut. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes. "You haven't seen it before - my arm, my shoulder."
"Oh."
He drops your hand. That feeling takes over him again. It feels like there's not enough air in the room. He slides away from you, closer to the edge of the tiny couch in your apartment. "It's - I am not pretty."
It breaks your heart, watching him pull away from you. You can only imagine how many people have turned away from him before. "James..."
He fervently shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes, "No, no, I know what you're gonna say, but it's bad. A lot worse than you're thinking."
"How do you know what I'm thinking?"
"It's bad," he insists. "I see it every day and I can barely - it's just bad, okay?"
You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want me to see it. I understand."
He finally opens his eyes again as his eyebrows pull together. He still doesn't meet your eye. "No, no, I want to - I trust you with this, I do. I just - I want you to be prepared."
In that moment, you realize that it's not really about preparing you. Not at all.
He thinks you're going to react badly. He thinks that this will make you turn away from him for the first time ever. He's worried that the love and adoration in your eyes will turn to disgust and repulsion.
It's less about preparing you for the scarred flesh, and more about warning you that he couldn't take a bad reaction. He's not sure he could take it if you turned away from him too.
"I love you," you promise him. "There's nothing that you could show me that would change that. I hope you know that."
There is no response to that. And you know that he won't believe it until he sees it. It takes him a moment. His hand toys with the hem of his shirt. His hand grips the hem, only to let it go.
"I love you," you remind him.
He takes a large gulp of air, pulling off his shirt with one quick movement.
You weren't really sure what you were expecting. You knew the story. You knew how Bucky lost his arm. He even confided the bits and pieces he remembered from getting his vibranium arm.
Your eyes trail over his skin. The shoulder is scarred, scars jut in every direction. Each scar is etched into his skin. It's clear it was a painful, violent experience for him. The metal plate protrudes from the scar tissue in a way that you're sure was painful when first placed. You look on with curiosity, you're not really sure how this, a sign of survival, a badge of resilience, could ever make anyone turn away from him.
He's as breathtaking as you could ever imagine.
Your eyes flicker up at him. He looks at the blank wall of your apartment, scared to watch your facial expressions as you take it in. "Can I?"
He nods, barely able to look you in the eyes. He sucks in a breath when your fingers make contact with the scar tissue surrounding the metal plate.
You immediately pull your fingers back, worried you've accidentally hurt him. "Does it hurt?"
"No," he answers reflexively.
You know he's lying. "I've seen you holding your shoulder before - holding it like it hurts."
"Sometimes," he amends. "The doctor said there's a lot of nerve damage. Things they can't fix."
"Does it hurt now?"
"No."
You run your hand over the plate, over his scars, down to his shoulder blade.
"Still think I'm pretty?" he sarcastically remarks.
You press a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'll always think you're pretty. Every part of you."
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 3 days
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2: UNWELCOME DISTANCE
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Dinner with Bucky didn't go as well as you planned and now you're suffering from the outcome of being ditched in an autumn thunderstorm.
Word count: 3.2k
Warning: feelings of betrayal, shitty communications skills, illness (upper respiratory tract infection) description, Coney Island and cotton candy, jealousy, Bucky... Barnes is a warning
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The following morning, you woke up feeling a little worse for wear. You buried your face in your pillow willing the tickle in your throat and at the back of your nose to disappear. A small groan left your lips as your attempt to sleep in was thwarted by the aching throughout your body. Sitting up did little to make you feel better, other than shifting the balance of mucus in your sinuses, making you sneeze and worsening the scratchiness of your throat. You looked up at the clock, you’d missed the breakfast time that you were expected to attend, but there weren’t any messages on your phone expressing concern from your friends.
A throb of self pity and doubt flashed through your mind. Did any of them even care? You had lost Bucky to another woman, but clearly none of your other friends had noticed your absence. You weren’t special, you’d only been invited to join the Avengers Initiative because of your powers. The thoughts were just forming, your mind ready to spiral into a storm of insecurity, when there was a knock at your door. Each movement felt like wading through molasses, and even sitting up seemed like an insurmountable task.
"Cricket?" Steve’s voice permeated into the room.
"Coming!" At least that was what you tried to say, your voice coming out as a small croak. You padded over to the door barefoot and opened the door to find Steve’s kind face looking down at you.
His concern was etched across his features as he took in your disheveled appearance. Dark circles clung to your eyes, and your skin had lost its usual healthy hue.
"Hey there, sunshine," he greeted, his voice gentle. "How’re you feeling?"
There was only one word that would succinctly sum up your emotional and physical state in that moment. "Shit," you mumbled, sniffing at the fluid that was threatening to leak from your nose.
He reached out, his hand cool against your feverish skin. His touch was comforting, grounding you in the midst of your misery. "You definitely have a fever," he confirmed.
As if to affirm his observation, your body pitched forwards in a violent sneeze, which you barely had the time to catch with the inside of your elbow. You ended the outburst with a pained groan, as the back of your throat burned.
Steve’s concern deepened. "You need rest," he said firmly, steering you back into bed. "I’ll make you some tea."
You followed his instructions without protest, not having the energy to argue. It would be best for you to stay in bed, you’d get better quicker with rest, and it was a great excuse to avoid seeing your best friend and his girlfriend. The practical side of you would use the excuse that you didn’t want to expose anyone to your germs. At least Steve would be protected by the serum, so you didn’t need to worry about him hanging around. So with a clear conscience, you snuggled back under your covers to wait for Steve’s return.
As he disappeared towards the kitchen, you sank back into your pillows. Maybe losing Bucky wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe having a friend like Steve was enough—a warm presence in the midst of your feverish chaos. And as the wind whistled outside, you realized that sometimes, friendship was the best medicine of all.
Little did you know that on his way to the kitchen, Steve ran into Bucky as he was leaving your room.
"Steve?" Bucky called after his friend.
"Hey, Buck."
"What’re you doing?" The real question he wanted to ask was ‘why are you leaving Cricket’s room?’.
"Just grabbing some things for Cricket. She isn’t feeling very well."
"What?" Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. "She was fine yesterday!"
"Well if you hadn’t left her alone to get drenched in that storm, she probably wouldn’t be so miserable." Steve hadn’t meant to be so harsh with his words, but you had interrupted his beauty sleep the previous night and he was feeling rather disgruntled.
"What’re you trying to say, Steve?
"You shouldn’t have left it so long to tell her." Steve was referring to Priya and how long he'd kept his relationship with her private.
"That’s my decision, Steve." Bucky countered, defensively.
"I know. But maybe you should think about why you were so ready to tell me, but not Cricket."
Bucky clicked his tongue against the roof of mouth, dismissing Steve's comments. "I'm gonna go and see her."
Steve thought about objecting, but decided against it, opting to fetch the things he had promised you.
Bucky’s footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway, each one a heavy reminder of his own recklessness. The storm had raged outside, rain pelting against the window panes like a thousand tiny fists. But he hadn’t been there to shield you from it. Instead, he’d left you alone, vulnerable, and now guilt gnawed at him like a persistent rat.
Your room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn shut against the gray morning. Bucky hesitated at the threshold, his knuckles grazing the wooden doorframe. He’d never been good with words, especially when it came to matters of the heart. But he had to try.
"Cricket?" His voice was soft, almost tentative. He stepped inside, the floorboards creaking under his weight. There you were, cocooned in blankets, your face pale against the pillows. The storm had taken its toll on you, and he cursed himself for not being there.
You stirred, eyelashes fluttering open. "Bucky?" Your voice was a whisper, fragile like a spider’s silk. "What’re you doing here?"
He crossed the room in two strides, perching on the edge of your bed. "I… I heard you weren’t feeling well." His fingers brushed against your forehead, checking for fever. "Steve told me."
You managed a weak smile. "Steve’s a tattletale."
"He cares about you," Bucky said gruffly. "We both do."
"I feel bad for dragging him out of bed last night."
"Cricket, why didn't you tell me you didn't have any way to get back home. I would have brought a car instead of my bike."
You shrugged, “I didn’t think I had to.”
He had been so caught up in his plans to introduce you to Priya that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that you might need a ride home. He had assumed you would find your own way, and he was just starting to realize how selfish that had been. He should have been more attentive, more caring. He laid a hand on your arm, “I’m sorry, Cricket. I should have been more thoughtful. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“Cricket, please, let me make it up to you. I was looking for you this morning. I made your favorite pancakes," Bucky continued. "Thought you could come and have breakfast with me and Priya, before I take her home."
"Sorry," you shrugged, hating this conversation more and more. Why was Steve taking so long to return?
"I was going to spend the day with her, but if you want, I can come back and we can watch some movies."
"Don't cancel your plans on my account." You rolled over, facing away from Bucky.
Your behavior stung, but he couldn't blame you for being angry. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. "I’m sorry," he whispered. "For leaving you out there."
"See you later," you mumbled and Bucky knew he had been dismissed. 
Bucky couldn't shake the guilt that weighed heavily on his chest as he walked away. He had always been a good friend, someone who looked out for others and made sure they were taken care of. But in his excitement to introduce you to Priya, he had neglected to consider your needs.
As he walked away, Bucky couldn't stop replaying the conversation in his head. He had let you down, and he wanted to make things right.
Steve appeared a few moments after his departure, his arms laden with homely remedies and a bowl of soup which smelled incredible. Your stomach rumbled hungrily in response, making you blush.
"Here, take this first," Steve shoved a bottle of DayQuil under your nose.
Begrudgingly, you accepted the painkiller gratefully and then proceeded to slurp up the soup. "This is delicious," you hummed in approval.
"Hey, when you're feeling a bit better, I was thinking I could take you out somewhere… cheer you up a little." Steve stuttered towards the end as he saw surprise on your face. 
You swallowed your mouthful of soup before cracking a smile. “Steve, I'd like that.”
Steve smiled back at you. But suddenly, he reached out, grabbing the bowI in your hands, having noticed the slight hitch in your breath. A sneeze rocked your body forcefully and you groaned.
“Thanks,” you accepted the bowl back from Steve.
"No problem. Don't want to make a mess."
“No,” you sighed, finishing the soup in a sad silence.
“Want me to stay?”
“No, it's okay. I'm just going to go back to sleep.”
Steve took the empty dishes and kissed your forehead, glad that it didn't feel as warm as it had earlier. “Feel better, champ.”
You sure hoped you would.
*
A few days later, you were back in fighting form. But much to Bucky's chagrin, he could never seem to catch your attention for more than a passing nod or wave. He wanted to make things right with you. He missed you, he wasn’t used to being so close to you but not being able to talk to you properly. He had the sneaking suspicion that your distance might not just be ill-timed schedules. Were you avoiding him? He wondered if you were still angry at him for not giving you a ride back home after your dinner with Priya. A feeling of melancholy settled over him as he speculated on all the things he could have done that made you take a step away from him. Every reason under the sun spiraled through Bucky’s mind except the real reason for your withdrawal.
Bucky had hoped that meeting someone else, someone who was interested in him would help him push away the feelings he had for you. Closure. That’s what they called it in the movies these days. But this didn’t seem like it was going quite the way he had anticipated. In fact, rather than feeling happier, he felt more tortured than he had before. Maybe going out with Priya would take his mind off things, so he decided to give her a call and schedule a date, she had a way of soothing his turbulent thoughts. Not as well as you did, no one understood him quite like you did.
*
Steve was true to his word, and had whipped up a surprise plan for the two of you to spend the day together. He had chosen a Wednesday, explaining that it was a good time as the place would be less busy. He made sure you had dressed warmly, in spite of the sunny weather. 
"Don’t want you getting ill again," he smiled as you got into the car with him.
"Is that why we’re not taking the bike?"
Steve shook his head, knowing how much you loved riding motorcycles.
"So where are you taking me?" you asked. You’d been trying to get Steve to tell you for the last few days, but the tight lipped Captain had resisted all your wily techniques at information extraction.
"Coney Island."
"Ohh!" you exclaimed. "I haven’t been there for years!" You laughed before a thought popped into your head, a memory. "Are you sure you want to go there, Steve?"
"Why wouldn’t I want to go to Coney Island?"
"Well, I heard about… the… Cyclone Incident."
Steve blushed. "Bucky telling everyone that story, huh?"
"Afraid so." Your smile was soured slightly by the shadow casted by Bucky’s name and you turned to stare out of the window, letting Steve drive in silence.
Steve shook his head. He wanted nothing more than for both his best friends to be happy, and for the two of you to be happy together was the ultimate goal. He hoped that one day both of you would come to your senses, but until then, he would do his best to support you both.
The weather turned out to be fine and you had shed your top layer before even leaving the car.
"Oh come on! Stop being such a dad! We can always come back to the car if it gets chilly!" you responded to Steve’s disapproval.
"Come on then!"
It was a beautiful day filled with laughter and joy between you and Steve. He was glued to your side, treating you to all the rides, indulging you when you wanted to ride the Cyclone repeatedly. Every time you got to the end of the ride, you’d turn to him and make sure he wouldn’t spill his guts. Steve rolled his eyes dramatically as you laughed hysterically.
"What next?" Steve asked. "And don’t tell me we’re doing that again."
"Come on, the girl letting people in definitely has a crush on you! Why do you think we got on for free the last two times?"
Steve grabbed your wrist, "Come on!" He led you away from the rides, over to a cotton candy kiosk, dropping a few notes into the vendor's hand and selecting two cones. You took the liberty of grabbing the blue one from his hand and tucking into it before he had the chance to object.
"Bet I can eat this faster than you can!" Steve suggested slyly.
"Oh, bring it, Rogers!" You tore the stick out of the candy cloud and scrunched it up into a tiny ball, sticking it in your mouth and letting the sugar dissolve on its own.
Steve, who had taken several large bites, looked up in confusion and awe. He eyed your empty hands, then put his finger on your bottom lip, pushing it down and peering into your mouth. 
You indulged his disbelief, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. "See, all gone! I win!" you smile with glee.
"Wow!"
"You forget, I was the youngest of five! I had to learn to eat fast or I’d lose out." 
Steve chortled quietly at your story. "Fine, what do you want as your prize?" He waved around at all the game stalls, letting you pick your prize.
You gazed around, contemplating your options when you spotted a giant stuffed wolf. "That one!"
Steve was true to his word and threw every bean bag with perfect aim and you pointed at a white plushie which looked a little different to the others. 
"Why don’t you take this one?" the vendor tried to shove a dark gray wolf into your arms, but you declined.
"No thank you, I’d like that one please." You selected one which had been stuffed on a high shelf, away from the others of its kind.
"Honey, this one’s going in the garbage, look at him, white body with one gray leg. It’s a defective product, they made a mistake in the factory. Happens from time to time."
But you were adamant, you wanted the white wolf with the transplanted leg.
"Whatever you want, miss." The vendor handed you the soft toy, which you hugged to your chest. There was something about him that you wanted to keep safe.
Unbeknownst to you, you had been spotted by someone unexpected. Bucky had had a similar thought to Steve, he had brought Priya to the ‘island’ on a quiet weekday for some harmless fun.
"Jamie, look!" Priya tugged at his sleeve. "Isn't that Cricket and Steve?"
Bucky's head whipped around so fast, he almost had empathy for whiplash sufferers. He frowned, eye searching the crowd in the direction of Priya’s outstretched hand. He couldn't believe that you would come here with Steve. He had often suggested a trip to Coney Island to you, but you'd never managed to make the time for it. So seeing you here with Steve made his insides burn with jealousy. Another part of him, his guilt-ridden conscience told him that he didn't deserve you. Naturally, you'd choose the classical hero, Steve. He was the golden boy, even when they'd been kids, Steve was the trouble maker, but somehow Bucky was the one his parents mistrusted. 
"Yeah," he grumbled.
"Let's go over and say hi!"
"I'm sure they don't want us to interrupt them." Bucky vetoed the suggestion with a sulky expression.
"Fair, I mean I wouldn't want anyone interrupting our date either." Priya smiled, taking Bucky's hand, leading him away. Bucky stole one last glance at his two best friends, a deep ache settling inside him as Priya dragged him away from you. 
*
Over the next week, you and Bucky drifted through the compound, both longing for the other but not quite able to find it within yourselves to seek the other out. For you, it was a simple matter of avoidance. You'd made the mistake of touching the flame and now you suffered the burn. But for Bucky it was different. He couldn't understand your absence and he knew nothing of your pain.
He could feel the frustration building up inside him, until one day he caught you returning to your room. And every one of his thoughts and accusations came pouring out.
"What is it? Why’re you upset with me?" Bucky demanded.
"I’m not upset… it’s not- I’m hurt. You hurt me. It’s not that you did something wrong. In fact you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just that I thought you’d share something big, like dating, with me. But you kept it secret. For four months! I thought we told each other everything. I … I just expected-" you shrugged. "And that’s the problem here. My expectations were wrong, and I’m ashamed. But you didn’t do anything wrong. You have nothing to apologize for. But somehow I feel like I’m going to lose you."
"You’ll never lose me, Cricket."
"But Buck, I already have. Like she said… she’s your best friend now." Bucky opened his mouth to interrupt, but you put your hand out to stop him talking. "I just need some time to deal with that. Is that okay?"
"I didn’t mean to hurt you," he mumbled. The sincerity evident in his tone and face.
"I know, Buck," you sighed. "I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. Please, I want you to be happy. I’m happy for you."
"Please, let me make this up to you." Bucky grabbed your wrist, desperately.
"You can do that by making sure you take care of yourself. I’m always going to be with you, on missions and stuff, partner," you patted his upper arm. "I just think that our friendship’s going to change a little… and I just need some time to get used to that."
"Is this because of Steve?"
"Steve?" you repeated after him, feeling confused by the change in topic. "What does Steve have to do with this?"
"Are you together?"
"What? No! Bucky, why would you think that?"
"I just…" He shrugged, not quite able to bring up seeing you at Coney Island, or the moment of closeness you had had with Steve the night he had introduced you to Priya.
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mrs-illyrian-baby · 2 days
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Give Me Shelter, For My Heart | Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader | One Shot? 3k
Things are missing around the Avengers' compound and a newly returned Bucky is acting weirder than normal...Steve and Sam go to investigate and discover more than they bargained for.
Warnings: 18+ for language and suggestion of Hydra violence/torture/experimentation, omegaverse themes including alpha & omega, suggestion of pregnancy/pups, wolf shifting Rated F for Fluff and G for good friends
Challenges & Prompts: @buckybarnesevents Alpha Bucky April with extra prompts - word count, nesting, purring, beta characters, (I'll let mods decide if this hits the breeding/baby fever prompt). And @fandom-free-bingo 'forehead kisses'
Graphic by me and Canva, dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes
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“Hmm,” Steve looked around the supply room, surveying the gaps and empty shelves, normally well stocked with blankets and provisions. It was the third time this week he’d found himself at a loss, not just for words but his things too. Everything seemed to be going missing. 
First it was a few plates and mugs from the galley kitchen by his office, then it’d been the lunch he’d left for him and Bucky in the fridge. Last night he’d gone into Bucky’s room to make sure he was okay and found the man sleeping on a bare mattress, all the sheets, pillows and blankets were gone and the newly revived Bucky refused to explain what had happened to them or even acknowledge that there was anything wrong at all. He hadn’t even addressed that fact that the window was wide open and it looked as if he was sleeping in his shoes. 
Which brought Steve’s thoughts to the man himself. Bucky had been so odd since he’d returned. For a day or two, he’d been something like his old self, despite the awful situation they found themselves in, he’d joked with Steve and reminisced with the few memories he had. They’d enjoyed a beer together and he’d even met with Tony during their mediation and patched things up. 
Then, they’d all climbed onto the jet and he’d become distant, pacing like a caged animal until they’d landed. As soon as the doors were open he’d vanished for forty-eight hours and sent the entire compound into mayhem before strolling back in as if nothing had happened, bruised and covered in blood. Judging by the bandages he sported later that day, his cuts and bruises spread under his shirt and trousers too. 
Steve knew that he’d changed during his time with Hyrda, back in the 30s they’d both been betas, happy to plod along ignoring the madness of the few alpha’s in Brooklyn. It had been a rare thing then, to be an alpha, now they were considered a dying breed, so when Bruce’s tests had revealed that Bucky was an alpha now, they’d tried to take it in their stride that he might go off on his own sometimes, especially since omegas were even rarer. But there was still so much they didn’t know, so much to unpack and discover about the Bucky they’d rescued, and Steve was so desperate to spend time getting to know this new man that all the time apart was making him worry. 
“You okay?” Sam asked from the doorway, leaning in to hand Steve a hot cup of coffee. 
“Just doing a stock check.” 
“He take something else?” Sam stepped into the small room, lined with shelves and shelves of tents, camping stoves, parachutes, it seemed to go on and on. The bare grey shelves where stock was missing was stark against the white washed walls. 
“He?” 
“Barnes,” Sam sipped his coffee, matter of fact, and Steve confronted the worry that had been plaguing him. 
“It’s Bucky, isn’t it?” Steve dropped his head heavily and Sam patted him on the back, still sipping his drink. 
“Sorry man, told you, he’s not right yet. He’s not hurting anyone though, if he hates his bedding, who cares, if he hates your lunches, who could blame him.” 
Sam sidestepped Steve’s halfhearted swipe with a grin on his face. 
“But what’s he doing with it, Sam? Where’s it all going?” 
“Hell, I don’t know, have you asked him?” Sam raised his eyebrows. 
Had Steve asked his best friend, who flinched at his touch and shied away from any conversations? Bucky who vanished for hours at a time and came back looking as if he’d been dragged through a hedge? No, he hadn’t. He’d been too scared to confront what might be going on, what latent part of his programming might be at play. 
“Look, if you’re too scared to ask why don’t I?” 
Now it was Steve’s turn to raise his eyebrow, it wasn’t that Sam and Bucky didn’t get along, they just didn’t get along yet. Steve was working on it. 
“What if we…followed him?” He offered instead and Sam laughed again. 
“Who knew Captain America was scared of his own friends,” he couldn’t contain the chuckles. “Fine, fine. Let’s keep an eye on him.” Sam turned to the ceiling, more comfortable with the AI than Steve was. “FRIDAY, if Sergeant Barnes leaves his room, please can you alert us - privately?” 
“Of course,” the soft voice answered and Steve gave his friend a weak smile. 
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FRIDAY’S alert went off twice a day, every day, over the next week. But despite their best efforts neither Steve nor Sam managed to catch up with Bucky. 
It wasn’t until the following Saturday that they managed to follow him. Bucky was supposed to be at a training session to get his official certifications but they’d both had a feeling he’d try and skip it. As predicted they’d spotted the blue of his new henley edging around the side of the compound, a full backpack strapped to his back. 
Bucky ran across the grass and towards the thick forest. His still uncut hair was tied back but tendrils fell out as he sprinted into the wind. 
He was surprisingly loud, as he strode quickly between the trees, snapping twigs and branches that Steve knew he could’ve dodge even before the serum and his training. Sam looked at him, both of their feet silent as they followed. 
Bucky’s speed increased as he turned his face up into the breeze, his backpack jostled against the trees, bouncing when he began to run. 
Steve kept up, sending Sam wide, into the breeze, in case Bucky doubled back. 
Just as he was starting to feel lost in the repetition of trees and ferns, Bucky burst into a clearing and Steve slammed to a halt. 
The pine trees gave way to a small patch of clear sky, shining down on an old shed. Unlike the other abandoned guard houses, this one had obviously been cleaned recently. The small porch was swept and a pair of Avengers camping chairs were arranged neatly facing into the forest. A line had been strung between the cabin and the trees where one of the missing blankets fluttered in the gentle wind. 
Steve crouched down, motioning to Sam on the other side of the clearing to stay out of sight. 
Bucky approached slowly, “Cățeluș, are you here?” 
At first there was nothing and then a wolf nosed its way out from behind the door, it’s chestnut brown fur almost gold in the sunlight. It leaped forwards from the porch and shot across the clearing, leaping into Bucky’s arms. 
Steve whipped his head up to try and find Sam and by the time his eyes found Bucky again the wolf was gone, replaced by a woman pulling on a large t-shirt from Bucky’s backpack. 
“James!” Her sweet voice rang out in the otherwise quiet forest. 
Swamped by Bucky’s familiar red henley, you shot from the door and into Bucky's waiting arms, the back pack dropped to the floor and forgotten. 
She was swamped by Bucky’s red henley and he wrapped you in his arms, one large hand on the back of your head, tucking you into his neck. The other supported your legs, now wrapped around his waist. 
In the clearing Bucky's shoulders relaxed as he sank into your embrace, kissing and nipping at your neck. In return you tipped your head, practically purring at the attention and wriggling in his arms. 
“Have you been okay, baby.” Bucky asked, pulling away enough to look you over. 
“I'm okay, I missed you though, James, please don't leave me again.” You begged cupping his stubbled cheeks in your hands. 
Bucky turned into your palm and kissed it, “I know, I know, I’ve been making sure it’s safe for you.” 
Steve's heart sank. Bucky didn't feel safe? 
“You trust me, don't you, my little omega.” Bucky rubbed his nose into your cheek and you giggled, holding him even tighter, your hands in his hair. 
An omega? 
Sam stared over at Steve, eyes wide. 
It was clear to them both that this was no chance encounter and all Bucky’s odd behaviour suddenly started to make more sense.
Steve motioned for Sam to leave, they could sneak back to the compound and perhaps bring this up tentatively. Perhaps leave some items you might like lying around in the hopes that Bucky would take them and understand that his secret was out, but it was safe. 
Sam moved swiftly round the clearing as Steve continued to watch Bucky. 
Bucky vanished into the cabin, leaving you on the porch alone, snuggled into his shirt and pressing the collar to your nose. 
“She’s cute,” Sam whispered, squeezing up against Steve, still hiding in the overgrown ferns that lined the edge of the cabin. 
“We can’t let her sleep out here. She must be hungry and cold.”
Bucky emerged from the cabin carrying two of the missing mugs, balancing them carefully on the railing before scooping you up into his lap. His hand hovered by his mouth, sipping in slow motion as his eyes scanned the tree line and Steve took a breath, sitting back quickly. 
“Stay here, Cățeluș,” he was up in a flash, eyes always on the tree line even when he reached into his boot to pull out a familiar gerber knife. 
Instead of flipping it into his palm, he balanced it on the arm of your camping chair. Eyes still on the trees he placed his metal hand on top of your head, “stay here and stay safe, follow the plan, do what you need to.” His voice was low, series, almost a growl. Far away from the happy, loving tones he’d been speaking to you with before. 
You nodded, and as soon as he felt your head move he was up and off the porch. 
Steve and Sam looked up in time to see a wolf leap towards them. 
It was true then, the experiments had worked and Steve had the cold feeling that returned every time he discovered something new about his friend during a fight, but he had no time to worry about it now. Not when the wolf was closing in on them. 
It was huge, its white fur dusted with fallen leaves, but its teeth gleamed in the afternoon sun as he pounced, snarling. His paws the size of dinner plates slamming into the ground in front of them, teeth bared and snarling. 
Steve rolled away, pulling Sam with him and covering his body, regretting not bringing the shield. 
“Bucky!” Sam shouted from under Steve’s arm
“Bucky it’s us we don’t want to hurt you!” 
The wolf pulled back from the two men pinned beneath him, and something like clarity passed over Bucky’s icey blue eyes and he sat on his haunches, head cocked to one side, ears floppy. Then it stood, rounding the bushes and, in a blink, the man had reappeared still hiding before the foliage to cover his naked body. 
“Steve -” Bucky looked thoroughly confused, 
“Bucky, we’re so sorry we shouldn’t have followed you.” 
“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice wavered, his body cold without his fur and with his clothes left behind in the cabin. 
“We were worried about you, man, you’ve been so weird - stealing stuff, going missin’, can you blame us for getting creeped out?” Sam raised his eyebrows and Bucky’s brow furrowed. 
“Sorry, I’m sorry, I just had to -” he gestured back towards the cabin and, as if remembering he’d left you behind with no way of knowing he was safe he turned and ran back to the clearing. 
Steve and Sam jumped up, chasing after Bucky once more. 
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The cabin porch was empty when Steve picked his way down the slope of mud and rocks into the clearing. 
A howl rang out as he got closer to the little house, a high, pained sound and then the response came, low and level. 
There were two wolves now, hidden at the side of the cabin in the shadows.
The white wolf kept itself half turned towards Steve and Sam, who kept quiet and still, barely daring to breathe, allowing its companion to approach slowly. 
The brown wolf dropped in front of the white, ears flat back against its head, and then rolled over, showing a soft belly that the white wolf nuzzled gently before turning back to Steve and barking sharply. 
Steve held his hands up and the wolf barked again, turning tail and returning to the cabin. 
It took only moments for Bucky to show himself on the porch, pulling his henley back down over his now dirt streaked belly. 
“Come in,” he gestured up the stairs and vanished again. 
The cabin, though run down, was well kept. The porch was swept of leaves and there was even a little mat by the door. 
“Shoes,” you whispered, pulling on Bucky’s sleeve as you entered the main living space, making an attempt to hide behind him. You’d dressed again too, also in one of Bucky’s henleys and a pair of leggings that Steve recognised as Avengers recruit issue. 
“Do you mind?” Bucky asked while Steve and Sam stared between you both. 
“Shoes,” you turned to look up at Bucky again, eyes pleading in one moment and then flicking to the two new men treading mud into your home. 
“Your shoes, take them off.” Bucky helped them arrange their boots neatly by the door while you pottered around the fireplace. “This is her nest,” he whispered, making sure the doormat was straight and the little curtain was neat over the window. “It’s important to omegas, to her,” you turned shooting a glare over your shoulder, “to us-that it’s kept just right and she hates shoes inside.”
In the small living space a camping stove had been set up with a kettle, a portable fridge, and an assortment of mugs, both Avengers field regulation and novelty, which were set neatly on the mantel. You chose four, and placed them next to the kettle while it steamed happily away. 
Bucky spoke softly to you in a mixture of English and Romanian, but you didn’t come any closer to the strange men. You’d seen them before, on the television and in Bucky’s notebooks, but now that they were here, so large and imposing, you couldn’t bring yourself to even look over. 
“This is Cățeluș, well, that’s not her real name but we couldn’t find that. She - uh -” you watched Bucky struggle for words and lay a hand on his cheek, smiling warmly up at him. Your Winter, your James. “-I don’t want to say the word, it upsets her, but she was with me when I was - him - part of the experiments.” 
You poured the tea quietly, watching the steam rise into the darts of sun making their way through the broken knots of wood in the wall, and you took a deep breath. With shaking hands you gave the first man, Sam, a cup. He had a gentle face, a wide smile and he didn’t look at you with pity, as you feared, only interest. 
The second man held his breath as you approached, keeping his hands as close to his body as possible until you pushed the cup towards him. Steve. Bucky had lots of pictures of Steve in his notebooks and had told you more stories than you could remember, but he didn’t look sickly, he looked too big for the space, his shoulders drawn in, slouched. You appreciated that he was trying not to look scary, even though your every nerve was on edge.  
Bucky took the proffered mug from your hands with a kiss to your forehead and you sighed, allowing him to steer you to the only arm chair in the room and then passing you your own tea. 
“We got out, eventually and - I brought her here.” Bucky sat on the rolled arm of the chair, draping his own arm over your shoulders and fitting you into his side. 
Steve and Sam could only stare. 
“Why didn’t you bring her to the compound? She can stay -” Steve turned to you, “you can stay, either in Bucky’s room or you can have your own room if you’d prefer.” 
It took you a moment to process the offer, but eventually you shook your head, turning into Bucky’s side. 
“It was awful - in there, with them she, we both -” Bucky struggled for the words, the desire to protect you rising inside 
“It’s okay,” Sam said carefully, “I know the transition’s been rough on you, Bucky, I can’t imagine what it’s been like for her, how you even got her out here. But there’s nothing to be afraid of, maybe she’ll come with you? If you suggest it?” 
Sam kept looking at you, his eyes soft and encouraging but you turned away, pressed your face into Bucky’s ribs where his scent had soaked through his shirt, reassuring and primal, chanting in your head Alpha, safe, Alpha, safe. You did miss him, when he was gone, but how could he keep you safe in that place. 
You’d seen it, once or twice, through the trees when you took a walk, looking for whatever you could find in the forest. Guards left lots of things behind, bottles and coats and jackets, useful things. You collected them all, skirting around the edge of that horrid white building and hoping to never see the terrifying things that flew out of it, men in suits and robots, it was too much. 
“You can bring whatever you like with you, and maybe Nat and Wanda could help you with some new things, if you liked?” Steve followed Sam’s lead, keeping his voice steady and low. 
“James - my nest.” You mumbled, gripping his henley in your fist. 
He dropped a hand onto your head, “we can do whatever you like, baby. You want to stay here, we can stay, you want to go to the compound, we’ll go.” 
You felt Bucky’s heart rate pick up, its beat hammering and your anxiety grew too, your breathing more ragged, you turned even further into him, practically climbing into his lap, the henley you’d taken from him riding up. 
Instantly you knew it was a mistake, the scars of your time in Hydra were still visible, raised on your skin, yellowing patches of healing bruises and calloused skin from repeated bouts in the chair. 
Sam and Steve could barely conceal their inhale of breath. 
“Bucky, did you get her checked by a doctor or…” Sam trailed off, Bucky looked angry again, his arms fully surrounding you. 
“And what would I have said, Sam?” He growled, “I know she looks like she’s been kept in a cage and beaten but please don’t arrest me, I promise it wasn’t me? Her social security number? Sorry, I don’t have it, we don’t even know her name. I did the best I could.” His anger tipped over into a resigned sadness. Bucky cupped your face in one hand and forced you to look up at him, “I did the best I could, baby, I really did.” 
You nodded and his grip loosened so you could nuzzle into his chest again, your own tears running down your cheeks at the memory of those early days. Bucky’s shaking hands patching up your burns and cuts, the whisky you’d slugged before he pulled out a stray bullet from your arm and stitched it with floss. Every touch had been gentle though, every time he’d changed your bandages or cleaned you up, it had been gentle. It had been everything he could give you. 
“We didn’t mean it like that, Buck,but we could help, get her checked over and then you can come back here.” Sam’s voice was plaintive, deliberately soothing and it made Bucky’s blood boil. 
“I’m not taking her to that place.” He bit back, there was no mistaking the way he curled you into his body, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his arms around your back. 
It didn’t hurt anymore, to be touched, but then it’d never hurt to be touched by James. His hands had always been careful with you, his strength used only for protection and it was for that reason that you lay your trust in him completely. 
“Don’t make me go, Alpha.” You whispered, your lips brushing the base of his neck where you’d marked him, right over his scent gland, your teeth marks an eternal brand. You nuzzled into him, your chest rumbling again. 
“I won’t make you go,” he looked back at Steve and Sam, the finality of his decision sat heavily in the air. 
“Can we at least bring some medical things here? Would you let Sam check you out?” Steve offered, he was increasingly concerned by the way Bucky had retreated into the chair, his own legs now curled up on the overstuffed cushion.
Above you, James nodded once, “just you and Sam, don’t tell anyone else. I’ll know if you tell anyone else.” The panic edging Bucky’s voice had Steve raising his hands in surrender. 
“I promise, Buck, just Sam and I.”
Sam and Steve left the cabin at dusk while you and Bucky watched from the deck. As soon as they were beyond the trees he pulled you even tighter against his chest, his heat warm. 
“Everything is going to be okay, baby, I promise, no one’s going to ever, ever, hurt you again.” His hands slid down your arms and across the slow swell of your belly. “But we should consider their offer, make sure we’re making a choice that’s good for you and me, as well as them.” His palm pushed up under your shirt, splayed on your tight skin and, deep inside, your pup pushed back. 
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purple-babygirl · 3 days
Text
in the far corner of the forest V
Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader
Word Count: 7,790 (you love me)
Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.
Warnings: 18+ content, mentions of bruised skin, idiots in love, feels, a little crying, a little angst, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (don't do that), multiple orgasms. I think that's all.
A/N: this is the longest part so far and no condolences to the jealous (iykyk) i love and appreciate you guys with my whole heart. also i suck at smut so please pretend to be aroused as you wait for the next part, thank you. please enjoy xx💜💜
~
She wiped her tears away, remembering Bucky’s words as she tried to calm down.
She bit her lip as her chest tightened at the pain she had heard in his voice, deeply regretting her part of the fight.
Did he really think she thought he was without feelings?
She might have seen him as a monster before, but that was in the very beginning when she didn’t know him at all, and she soon came to realize that she was wrong. Very wrong.
Her orc wasn’t a monster by any means. Not even close. If anything, it was the complete opposite. She saw him as a resilient soldier and admired the way he never lost the good things about him at war. To her, Bucky was a warrior; a hero.
Human or not, of course she treasured and cared about his feelings!
Bucky took care of her, brought her gifts without her ever asking, made her feel seen and heard and most of all liked. Loved even. He made her feel like she was some awesome friend worth laughing with and talking to.
She wanted to make sure that she made him feel the same way too. She couldn’t let him continue to believe the words he had said to her.
She opened the door of the cottage and looked outside, but Bucky was nowhere to be found. She sighed, shutting the door again and pressing her back to it as she thought about her next steps.
Life with Bucky was what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that truth.
She fetched the cloth she had tossed away before moving back to the kitchen.
She had only known real happiness alongside Bucky and she was going to let him know that. She was going to whip the cream for that cake even if they had to do without berries.
~
She was almost done smoothing the whipped cream over the cake when she heard the door to the cottage open and close.
She quickly rinsed her hands, ready to go out and make things right.
When she stepped out of the kitchen, however, she was met by the most endearing view she could have ever been met with and it rendered her speechless.
Her large snow orc was standing before her with a blush on his cheeks and a tiny fruit basket between his giant arms.
It was full of mixed berries.
She couldn’t hide her happy surprise as she stared at the sight before her, her mouth opening and closing a few times.
“Bucky?” She finally whispered his name, breaking the silence, her voice soft and laced with love.
Damn, that orc could steal hearts.
“I—  uhh—  borrowed the basket from Sarah,” Bucky muttered, pushing the basket forward for her to take as he avoided eye contact.
He really sucked at this and he knew it, but he was trying. He desperately wanted to make everything better. He knew he couldn’t take the yelling or the bruising back, but he badly needed to fix what he had so stupidly ruined, and the berries were his best bet.
She appreciatively took the basket out of his hand, hugging it to her chest.
“I’m sorry if they’re not as good as the ones you picked. It’s— it’s my first time uhm— picking berries,” Bucky admitted lowly, gesturing with his hands as his eyes wandered anywhere but on her, afraid of meeting her eyes and finding them disappointed or fearful still.
It was true. It was his first time doing any of this. Bucky was a rough orc. He did hunting, not foraging.
“They’re perfect,” she replied without even looking at the fruits, the gesture itself enough for her as she realized that under all this beef, her orc had hid a heart of gold and a softness to die for.
Bucky only nodded awkwardly, still unable to meet her eyes. He didn’t know how to act or what to say.
He was a soldier. He used to give orders and expect results, he didn’t do apologies or pluck raspberries as gently as possible in order not to squish them between his huge fingers.
She silently took the basket to the kitchen, a smile covering her face as her heart jumped.
Bucky walked in after her, leaning on the door frame and watching as she emptied the berries in a bowl and washed them.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of their earlier argument hanging heavy in the air.
“How’s your arm?” Bucky asked softly, swallowing in the fear of having left some serious damage on her.
Her smile faltered for a second when she remembered the way he had so harshly grabbed and held her, “it’s gonna be okay. Just a tiny bruise.” She reassured still, not wanting him to feel bad anymore.
Bucky’s fingers trembled as he ran a rough hand through his unkempt hair, the weight of his actions weighing heavily on his conscience.
“I hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with remorse. “I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. I really am sorry, little human.” Bucky sincerely apologized again.
Before she could reply, he stepped closer, taking hold of her hand before lowering his lips to her forearm.
The feeling of Bucky’s tusks ever so softly digging into her skin as Bucky left tender kisses all over the abused area made her shiver.
“I’m sorry; I’m a fool,” Bucky said into her skin as he pressed another kiss, “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.” He pressed one final kiss before letting her arm go, “I will never doubt you again, sweet thing. Please forgive me.”
He stood there with the bluest puppy eyes, silently begging for her clemency as his hands hugged hers.
“I forgive you, Bucky.” She nodded with a shy smile, her own guilt gnawing at her insides as the fire that had rose on her skin in the wake of Bucky’s lips dissipated.
“It scared me when I came home and didn’t find you. I— I thought you were leaving me again.” He confessed lowly, “I didn’t know what to think.”
“I know. I should’ve at least left a note,” she thought out loud, her head down in regret, “I thought I would be home before you arrived so I didn’t feel the need to write one. I’m sorry, Bucky.” She gave his hand a desperate squeeze, “I really didn’t mean to scare you or make you feel like I was running away.”
“It’s okay.” Bucky smiled softly, regretting how poorly he had reacted as he brought her hand to his lips.
She was amazing. His night’s firefly.
“I don’t think of you as someone who doesn’t have feelings, Bucky,” she blurted out, her voice quivering with sincerity. “The kindness you show me... it's unlike anything I've ever known from humans. It's genuine, and real, and it's the reason I wanna be with you.”
Bucky listened in silence, an appreciative smile breaking on his handsome face.
“I care about you, Bucky, and I respect your feelings more than you know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t.”
“I didn’t want to keep you when you didn’t want to stay, but it still hurt every time you left,” Bucky finally voiced his thoughts, sharing a part of his feelings and fears with her.
“Who—” She stopped to clear her throat, “who said I don’t wanna stay?”
“So you wanna be here for good? With me?” Bucky’s eyes lit up with hope as he intently watched her.
“Well, I made a cake, didn’t I?” She wouldn’t let her eyes meet his as she placed the berries on top of the smooth cake, her heart drumming in her chest.
“Let me hear it, sweet thing,” Bucky begged, unable to believe what he was hearing from her despite everything that has happened.
“I thought I’ve said it before,” she tried to tease, “and I’m wearing your ring, Bucky,” she chuckled shyly, her face hot.
Bucky kept waiting, wordlessly pleading her to tell him the words he so badly needed to hear.
She looked at him and saw passion drawn all over his face and she could only imagine she looked the same.
“I… wanna be here… with you, Bucky, for good,” she said before biting her lip, her own admittance sending a shudder down the back of her hot neck.
The simple sentence hit Bucky like a warm cup of cocoa on a stormy evening as he smiled.
He grabbed her hand and gave the palm of it a long kiss, getting berry residue on his cheek.
Thankfully, she didn’t take her hand away, giggling softly as her orc got his skin stained.
She smiled timidly when he pulled away, wiping his cheek clean with her other thumb.
“I know I haven’t made it easy for you, Bucky, but you’ve got to trust me. I don’t wanna leave you, not now, not ever.”
Bucky nodded, his heart soaring at the reassurance, “I trust you, little human.”
“Let’s eat our cake?” She asked, biting her lip.
Our. It was the first time she has ever used that word.
Bucky nodded with a grateful smile of his own, carefully carrying the cake out to the table outside.
She grabbed plates, forks and a knife and followed him.
Her heart was beating like crazy, yet it was the most relieved it had ever been now that they have made up.
She handed Bucky the knife and he cut through the cake.
She took the chance that he was busy and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, her lips lingering against his warm skin for a fleeting moment, “welcome home”.
Bucky could feel his chest burning up with the love it held for her.
For years, he had believed himself unworthy of love, of kindness, of anything resembling happiness. But in that short second with her lips on his cheek, he felt a twinkle of hope ignite within him, dispersing the darkness that had cloaked his heart for years.
The commotion that happened earlier had made him forget all about his kiss, but she didn’t.
She kissed him and with a smile too.
Bucky was love-sick, her gentle features stirring unparalleled emotions inside of him, softening his rough edges without even trying.
With a hesitant hand, he reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against the smooth skin in a silent promise of devotion. And as she leaned into his touch, cupping his hand with her tiny one, Bucky took an oath to cherish her, to protect her, and to love her with every fiber of his being for as long as he lived.
“Is there anyone around left from your tribe that I can meet?” She asked after Bucky had filled their plates with cake, interested to know more about her husband’s life as she handed him his fork.
She couldn’t help her curiosity anymore. She cared about Bucky and she needed to know why he was out here on his own. Where was his clan? Did he even have one? Do they know about her?
“No, just the two very close human friends,” Bucky sighed his answer before slipping a raspberry in his mouth, his thoughts running to his clan; the clan that had rejected and abandoned him years ago.
Okay, but where were the orcs? Now she was more curious and confused.
“What about your family?”
“You’re my family,” Bucky answered without hesitancy and she felt her heart flood with love as she speechlessly stared at his face.
“Where did you see me?” She wondered aloud, her tone hushed as she ached to know how and when he got to choose her.
“At the orphanage,” he started, a smile already spreading on his face as he recalled the memory, “me and Sam were delivering chairs and a few beds for the new rooms they had built.”
She listened, knowing exactly what he was talking about. She was part of the group that was instructed to clean the new building.
“I had just taken a bed down from the truck when I felt something drop on my head and before I knew it, it was raining. I was wiping the raindrops off my forehead.” Bucky’s fork played around with the berries on his plate before he looked up and into her eyes, “and I let my arm down and there you were, breathtaking as a daydream, laughing with another girl as you both ran inside before the rain could catch you.”
“How did I not see you?” She whispered, eyes welling up at the adoration she could see in his gaze.
“You were too busy being scared of the rain,” Bucky teased, “but I saw you.” Bucky’s thumb stroke drown her cheek, “I saw you and I knew I just had to see you again.”
“So that was when you asked the manager if I could be your wife?” She bit her lip, the thought now flattering to her rather than appalling as it used to be.
“No, that was when I intentionally slammed a chair down on the concrete and broke it to pieces so we could be one chair short and I could come again and hopefully sneak another peek at you.” Bucky laughed, remembering Sam’s reaction as he watched the chair he had so carefully put together get smashed down, “Sam wasn’t so happy about me destroying his work”.
“Oh my gods,” she laughed with him, feeling bad for poor Sam.
“Yeah, he didn’t believe me when I said I dropped it, swore he wasn’t coming with me that next time and everything. It was a whole thing.” Bucky shook his head as his laughter faded into a soft smile.
“Can’t blame him.” She shrugged with a grin.
“He was fine.” Bucky waved his hand in the air, “I honestly only cared that I’d secured myself a chance to come back.” He admitted unapologetically.
“And did you see me when you came back?” She asked, her elbow on the table and her cheek resting on her hand, cake long forgotten.
“Yeah, I had to sneak to the back to see you, but I did. You were even more beautiful that day,” Bucky told her, making her blush under his affectionate gaze, “you had a messy flower crown on top of your head and you were taking laundry down from the clothesline. You were so focused as you tried to pull the clothes down without getting on your tiptoes,” he chuckled, recalling how cute she was as she struggled to reach the peg clips.
“Hey! They hung that clothesline way too high! No one could reach it!” She shook her head.
“Yeah, I’m sure they couldn’t,” Bucky teased, laughing at her defensive reply.
“They couldn’t, I swear! Not just me!”
“I believe you,” Bucky said with a provocative smile.
“You’re annoying.” She pouted, digging her fork in her cake slice.
“Nah, you’re just too little, little human.” Bucky teased again and she couldn’t help her smile.
It was all making sense now as she admired his gorgeous grin: the yearning for Bucky’s touch when he wasn’t there, the longing for his presence that had replaced her previous fear or repulsion, and the way she so desperately looked forward to the weekends so they could hold hands as they walked and talked could only mean one thing.
She was in love. She was in love with Bucky and she didn’t want to run from that feeling.
“I— I think I’m in love with you,” she admitted in a tiny whisper.
A smile lit Bucky’s face up before he gave her forehead a long kiss, trying to convey his adoration for her as he held her close to him, “I know I’m in love with you, little human.” He sighed in her hair.
He couldn’t believe she said it and he couldn’t believe she said it first. He couldn’t believe how far they have come and how beautiful life could be.
But he knew now and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Bucky finally had someone who loved him and cared about him; someone he could trust and surrender his heart to.
She stood on her tiptoes, making him chuckle as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him so close that he could feel her heartbeat.
“They renounced me a long time ago,” Bucky whispered in her hair, feeling brave enough to open up to her about his past.
Her heart sank at the gut-wrenching piece of information.
“What?” She pulled away in shock, “why?”
Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around the idea of a clan having Bucky and willingly letting him go.
“My mother was a human; wanted to name me James, but she died during my birth, heart condition,” he started, closing his eyes to stop his tears from forming, “they eventually did name me James, but I think I never liked it. My grandma gave me the name Bucky, from my middle name ‘Buchanan’. She was the one who raised me because me and my father weren’t close. He could never forgive me for taking my mother away from him, I guess.” Bucky shrugged, swallowing his emotions.
She listened silently, her own tears brimming. What kind of father does that? Bucky had already lost his mother and instead of being there for him, his father made him lose him too?!
“Before I knew it, I’m a teenager and my father had passed away and my grandma before him… I had no one left and my cousins weren’t about to let the half-orc with the human mother become chief.” Bucky sighed as he recalled the events of his youth.
She stayed in his arms, hands on his chest as she listened closely, her heart breaking at the expression on her orc’s face.
“And when I started ‘working with the humans’, they found the perfect reason to kick me out of the clan for good.” He finished with a sad smile, shaking his head as if to shake the memories away.
“That was when you started fighting for the kingdom?” She asked, softly running the back of her fingers down Bucky’s cheek as a tear rolled down her own.
“Had nowhere else to go.” Bucky shrugged with a teary smile, trying to pull himself together.
“But that was where you met Sam, right?” She reminded with a tender smile, her thumb tracing his stubbly chin.
Bucky nodded with a chuckle, “yeah, used to drive me crazy at first, but he was a good soldier; an even better friend.”
“And then you opened your shop.” She tilted her head, her fingers catching the tips of Bucky’s soft hair by his shoulder.
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, reminiscing at how things have turned out.
“And you started making beautiful furniture that you needed to deliver to the orphanage, where you saw me.” She grinned fondly, a fingertip tracing the orc’s nose.
“Yes.” Bucky sighed, his love pouring out of his dewy eyes as he enjoyed the light touches.
“And now I’m here with you, in our home,” she brought both palms to Bucky’s cheeks, “and I will never leave you, Bucky,” she told him seriously before getting on her tiptoes to hug him again, “I’m your family and you’re mine.” She whispered into his neck.
“I love you,” Bucky whispered into her shoulder, his arm squeezing her to him as if he wanted to meld himself to her.
“Copycat,” she joked, instantly feeling her orcs chest vibrate with a chuckle, “I love you too, Bucky.”
With her in his arms, hers wrapped around him as tight as she could, Bucky could then understand the meaning of safety, of love and family.
And she finally came to realize that she and Bucky weren’t all that different after all. They had both been abandoned by the ones who were supposed to have their backs before and more than anyone. But they have got each other now. She wasn’t going to let Bucky go and she trusted him not to let her go either.
~
As she leaned in to give Bucky his goodnight kiss that night, a different thought occupied her mind.
Sitting up against the pillows, she crossed her legs, her heart pounding with anticipation as Bucky looked at her with a quizzical tilt of his head.
She slowly got closer to his face, locking eyes with him to gain more courage, but it only made her more nervous.
She took a deep breath and when she pressed her lips, she pressed them to her orc’s mouth instead of his cheek, ever so tentatively getting a much needed taste of his full lips. They were so soft, so perfect.
She had no idea if she was doing this right, but she didn’t care.
Bucky's eyes widened in disbelief, wondering if he was dreaming.
She pulled away after a short second, scared that she might have crossed a line, “I’m sorry. Do orcs not do that—”
Before she could apologize or question her actions further, Bucky silenced her with a kiss of his own, swiftly bringing her down to lay on her back as he hovered over her, his kisses eager and desperate as he tried his best to watch his tusks.
“I don’t care what orcs do. We’re doing it,” he mumbled against her sweet lips.
Bucky allowed her one loud laugh before devouring her lips again, stealing her heart and breath with another tender, yet deep kiss.
In that very moment, time seemed to stand still for Bucky. All he could feel was the warmth of her cheek against his palm, all he could taste was the sweetness of her lips mingled with the faint flavor of berries, and he never wanted it to end.
As she allowed his tongue to gently explore her mouth, a promise of eternity passed between them in a moan, sealing their bond with a promise of a lifetime of love and devotion.
She has never had a real friendship. Rarely had anything to say. She would rather stay silent if she thought she didn’t have anything to contribute to the conversation. She was always afraid that others might find her boring, and was even more afraid that that may be her truth. So she always hid. She hid from others, from herself and her feelings. She hid from problems and fights. She hid from anything that could get her hurt.
But with Bucky it was different.
She didn’t have to hide anymore, didn’t have to be scared because in Bucky she had everything. She had a true friend, a loyal lover and a great husband.
And as she let herself drown in the feeling of his lips, she couldn’t be more grateful for the gods above for drawing her fate exactly how it was.
It felt so good to belong to Bucky and she could all but want more.
She let her instincts run wild, her body hot with need as she hesitantly slipped her hands under Bucky’s sweater, eager to feel his scarred skin under her fingers.
Bucky pulled away from her lips to look her in the eyes, his breath stuttering at her tender touch, “what are you doing, sweet thing?”
“I’m sorry. Was that too far?” She hurriedly tried to pull her hands out of his clothes, but Bucky was faster as he sat back and held his hands on top of hers, keeping them inside his sweater, right on his ribs.
“I’m your husband,” Bucky reminded with a sweet smile.
“I know— I just— I’ve never—” She struggled with her words as heat rose to her face, “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable… but I think I wanna do this.” She confessed shyly, her indexes caressing up and down his abdomen.
“This this?” Bucky tilted his head suggestively, already feeling his cock jump at the thought alone.
“This this.” She smiled, biting her lip shyly as she gave a nod.
“Little human, you better not be playing right now.” Bucky warned, his eyes growing the slightest bit darker.
“I’m not—”
“Because if I start, I won’t be able to stop myself, sweet thing.”
“Then don’t.”
Her newfound courage took over as she brought Bucky back to her with her hands tangled in his pullover.
Bucky kissed her with fervor, savoring the angelic sounds she was making as his tongue tasted hers.
He carefully ran a large hand up her hip, exploring as his lips trailed down her cheek and to her neck.
He could feel her pulse again and was about to stop, déjà vu from their wedding night attacking him, but then she said his name in the softest, sexiest and neediest tone as she squirmed underneath him, his covered cock fitting just right between her legs.
Bucky could all but put his lips back on her, his tusks grazing the sensitive skin as he nibbled on it.
“Can I see you?” He breathed, his eyes on hers as his fingers found way under the skirt of her dress.
She nodded, her face and neck flushed as she sat up and gave the orc her back.
Bucky wasted no time working the zipper down, revealing the back of her bralette to his hungry eyes.
She twisted herself back, seeking Bucky’s blue orbs for reassurance as she pushed her dress down her shoulders. Her heart pounded in her chest when she saw Bucky literally lick his lips at the sight of her.
It felt like it was the first time Bucky was seeing her naked to both of them.
He saw her hesitate with pushing the dress down further and so with a smile, Bucky pulled his own pullover up and off his head, “I got you.” He promised.
She bit her lower lip, pushing the dress down her thighs.
Bucky pulled the piece of clothing all the way down, throwing it behind his back with his discarded sweater. He kept his calloused palms on her shins, caressing the smooth skin while he watched her hands go behind her back to unhook her bralette.
She let it fall from her body, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths as she watched Bucky’s gaze switch from admiration to sheer desire.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, gently bringing her on her back, taking the bralette all the way down her arms as he pressed his mouth to hers again.
Bucky’s lips traced down the hot skin of her throat in open-mouthed kisses, moving to her collarbones, “can I touch you, sweet thing?”
“Yes.” She nodded and goosebumps instantly rose on her skin as Bucky’s palms cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing her hardening nipples.
“Bucky,” she moaned, her back involuntarily curving as she pushed herself further into her orc’s touch.
“Oh, you sensitive on here, little human?” Bucky asked, biting back his smirk as his calloused flesh thumb rubbed over her nipple again, “’s my touch making your little nipples hard?”
“Bucky,” she whined at the dirty talk, her hands coming up to cover her hot face in embarrassment.
“Hey.” Bucky gently took her hands away from her face, “don’t hide from me, sweet thing. I love that your body is reacting to me.”
Before she could whine again, her husband was bringing her right hand down and between his legs, pressing her open palm to his hard cock, “this is my body reacting to you, my love.”
She gasped, the feeling foreign to her as she felt how big and hard Bucky was.
“This is what you do to me, little human.” Bucky wrapped her smaller hand around his clothed cock, giving himself a squeeze, making wetness pool in her panties at the sound that left him afterwards.
Knowing that she wasn’t the only one whose body was on fire, made her the tiniest bit more confident and she found herself giving Bucky’s cock another squeeze, making his head drop to her shoulder.
“Oh, fuck, you tryna kill me, sweet thing?” Bucky breathed a chuckle on her neck.
“Did— did I hurt you?” She asked insecurely, wanting to remove her hand and bury herself under the bed.
“Gods, you’re an angel.” Bucky shook his head and she didn’t understand until he said, “you have no idea how much your touch drives me mad, do you?”
She shook her head innocently and Bucky only smiled, moving his mouth to her chest, his tusks softly grazing everywhere his lips went.
“It’s something like this.”
“Ohhhh, Bucky!” She arched her back again as her orc wrapped one of her nipples in his lips, softly suckling at the tender nub, making her hand give a tighter pump to his cock.
She really was sensitive there.
Bucky groaned, moving to her other nipple, the vibration driving her crazy, making her squirm harder as her hand massaged around his cock, sliding up his back to unconsciously wrap in his long hair as she pushed her breast into his mouth.
She could feel herself clenching like crazy down there, her whole body aflame with lust from all the new sensations Bucky was introducing her to.
The way the tip of his tongue flicked against her nipples made her crave more.
Bucky’s kisses trailed down her ribs to her abdomen, worshipping every inch until they settled on top of her pubic bone, dark blue eyes looking up at her for permission to go further.
She nodded, aching for her orc’s touch to provide any kind of relief.
A little nervous about not finding her wet once again, Bucky moved closer to her center.
Bucky let his lips kiss her on top of her underwear first, inhaling the saturated fabric as he pressed a long kiss to her clothed core. He swallowed hard, her scent filling his nostrils and making him dizzy with desire.
She smelled so good.
“Bucky, please,” she pleaded before she could stop herself, desperate for him to do anything to help the throbbing between her legs.
“I got you, sweet thing,” Bucky told her again, quickly pushing the tiny underwear down her legs and getting himself comfortable between her legs.
He took a second to look at her, all naked and all his, writhing from and for his touch and his touch alone.
“Wh— what are you gonna do?” She asked uncertainly, not really getting why Bucky was bringing himself lower between her open thighs, eye to eye with her pussy, the position making her cheeks burn up.
“I’m gonna get a taste, little human. Would you let me? Can I get a taste of you, sweet thing?” Bucky asked as he pressed loving kisses to the delicate flesh of her inner thigh.
“You’re… gonna put your mouth there?” She whispered her question shyly, the thought making her want to close her legs and hide.
Bucky just smiled lovingly at her innocence; his untouched, pure little human, “if you let me.”
“Is it gonna feel good?” She asked curiously.
Bucky nodded, relieved she wasn’t scared of his tusks coming close to where she was the most sensitive, “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Y—yes. Okay.” She nodded, swallowing her nervousness as she laid her head back.
Bucky knew what he was doing and she trusted him to take care of her.
Her permission was all Bucky needed to put his mouth on her, pressing a longing kiss to her lower lips, glad to find her soaking wet, making her gasp above him. The feeling of his blunt tusks framing her pussy set her heart racing.
He then locked eyes with her as he let his tongue out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe up from her dripping hole to her pulsing clit before wrapping his full lips around it and she couldn’t help the tiny squeal that escaped her as her head fell back on the pillow, her hips pushing down against him
Bucky smirked on her heat before moaning himself. She tasted so good, better than anything he has ever put his mouth on.
He had fucked humans before and he knew exactly what to do, but she was different. Every breath she released, every moan, was making Bucky wild with desire. He has never cared about making someone feel good as he did in that moment with her thighs around his head.
Her delicate hands flew to her orc’s hair and she tugged hard, losing herself in the feeling of Bucky’s mouth on her pussy as she arched her back and pushed herself closer to his lips. Her orc’s touch was reducing her to a moaning, babbling mess in mere seconds.
Bucky decided to test the waters a little, slipping his tongue inside her hole a few times, tasting her sweetness from the source before bringing his flesh finger between her legs. He gently prodded the tip of his thick finger at her entrance, feeling her tense above him with a gasp.
“It’s okay, sweet thing, I got you. Just relax for me.” He reassured and she tried her best to relax her muscles, allowing Bucky to ease the tip of his finger insider of her.
Fuck, she was so tight; the tightest he has ever felt and it made him rut into the mattress when he thought about how tight she was going to feel around his cock.
Her mouth hung open as Bucky worked the thick digit into her pussy knuckle by knuckle, his lips sucking on her clit.
“I gotta open you up for my cock, little human.” Bucky couldn’t help but tease her, smirking when she whined, getting wetter on his finger.
Bucky started moving his finger in and out of her, his movements slow and deep as he tried to explore as much of her as his finger would go.
Her body was feverish with arousal and her mind was drunk on the feeling of being filled for the first time in her life as sighs and whimpers slipped from her lips without her permission.
It was just one finger pushing in and out of her cunt and she was feeling full already, clenching hard with her juices drenching her thighs and the sheets. She clenched harder around Bucky’s thick finger at the thought of how big his cock would feel and how full it would make her feel, the way he was suckling on her clit making a knot tighten in her lower stomach.
She has never felt anything like this before and was starting to panic at the sensation spreading from her pussy to the rest of her.
“Bucky, I— I feel weird,” she whined, yet ground harder on her orc’s thick finger.
“Are you in pain, little human?” Bucky asked worriedly, taking his touch and mouth away from her at once.
“No, no, no, why would you stop?” She whined louder, her glossy eyes opening and pleading him to give her her pleasure back.
“Oh.” Bucky smirked when he looked from her eyes to her pussy and saw her clamp around nothing, “oh, sweet thing, you were gonna cum?” He asked lowly, his index rubbing up and down her sopping hole without going in.
“I— I don’t know.” She writhed, her hips pushing down as she tried to take Bucky’s finger back inside her, “Bucky, please.” She begged despite not really knowing what she was begging for.
But Bucky knew. He knew and he was going to give it to her.
“I got you,” Bucky said as he pushed his finger back into her pussy with ease, “you think you can take another one, little human?”
“Yes.” She nodded, her answer breathy and desperate as she automatically opened her thighs wider.
“Gods, you’re perfect. So good for me, sweet thing.” Bucky took his index out before coupling it with his middle and pushing both fingers into her, stretching her once more.
She whimpered at the careful intrusion, her hand bringing Bucky’s face to her pulsing clit, making him smirk proudly at how needy she was being for him.
If she thought she felt full before, this made her realize she was wrong.
Bucky’s fingers were so thick, so skilled as they massaged and curled against her upper walls, making her squeal when they nudged a specific spot deep inside her.
“Oh, there you go,” Bucky groaned into her clit, knowing exactly what he was doing to her as he kept curling his fingers inside of her, harshly stimulating the spot that was making her thrash.
He could feel her walls contracting harder around his fingers and he wanted to watch as he brought her to her first orgasm ever.
Keeping his eyes on her blissed out face, Bucky replaced his mouth with the heel of his left hand, circling her clit tightly with his cooler palm.
She wailed at the new stimulation, the pressure from Bucky’s hand strong enough to rub both her clit and her lower abdomen.
Her loud whimpers were making Bucky’s cock leak in his pants as her fingers dug into his shoulders.
“I got you, sweet thing. Give it to me, my love. Shake on your orc’s fingers.”
Bucky’s words did it for her.
She felt the knot in her tummy tighten once more and before she could tell him about it this time, her toes were curling and her body was trembling as her pussy clenched and pulsated around the orc’s beefy digits.
Bucky watched with an open mouth, his lips shimmering with the remnants of her arousal as he almost finished in his pants like a teenager at the mere sight of her losing it on his fingers, “there you go, my love. Good job, sweet thing.”
He slowed down the curling of his fingers but kept his palm circling her clit, wanting to keep her convulsing for as long as he could before she gently tried pushing his touch off.
“Sensitive,” she panted and Bucky decided to have mercy on her.
She laid down on the bed, her tired body limp despite the ongoing throbbing of her pussy, trying to catch her breath.
A smile automatically formed on her lips as she felt Bucky climb up the bed again, mapping his way up her body in wet kisses.
“Hi,” she whispered, opening her eyes when she felt him kissing the corner of her lips.
“Hi.” Bucky smiled, more than satisfied with himself at the state he had managed to bring her to as he kissed her lips, making her taste herself on his tongue, “did you like that, sweet thing?”
She nodded coyly, “can I… make you feel like that too? With my mouth?” Her face was flushed, heat spreading on her skin as if she hadn’t just come on Bucky’s fingers.
The orc could barely hold his orgasm back at the innocence in her voice as she asked if she could suck his cock in the purest way possible. He wasn’t about to cum untouched during his first time with his human. Get it together dammit.
“Later, sweet thing. Right now, I need to be inside your pussy or I think I might die.”
“Bucky,” she whined shyly, covering her face with her hands.
He laughed at her bashfulness before removing the rest of his clothes, “look at me, little human.” Bucky urged gently, his touch soft as his thumb stroked her lower belly.
She removed her hands, eyes instantly landing on his huge cock as it stood proudly, leaking pearls of pre-cum down his length.
“Are you ready, little human?” Bucky asked, wanting to make sure she wanted this.
She remained wordless for a second, taking in Bucky’s cock with an open mouth, wondering if it was going to fit.
“You can say no, sweet thing. We don’t have to do it tonigh—”
“Yes,” she interrupted with a nod, “make me yours, Bucky.”
Bucky bit his lip, stifling a groan, trying to stop himself from sliding home and pounding her into the mattress.
“I thought you were already mine, little human.” He growled lowly, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down her soaking cunt, tapping her clit teasingly just to see her shiver.
“I am. But I wanna be yours like this too.” She mumbled, her eyes mesmerized as she watched Bucky lube his cock up in her wetness, “wanna be yours in every way possible.”
“Can’t say no to that,” Bucky growled before carefully popping the tip of his fat cock inside her aching pussy.
Her breaths were coming out in short pants, cunt already clenching around him and he almost doubled over, his knees weak as pleasure engulfed his senses, “fuck, sweet thing, you’re so tight. Pussy’s tryna kill me.” He moaned, unintentionally making her clench down harder.
She looked like she had already been fucked stupid when Bucky proceeded to push half of his fat cock inside her, letting out tiny mewls and whines as she felt every ridge and vein on her orc’s cock, holding onto his arms for dear life.
“Oh, you feel so good, my love. So wet for me,” Bucky sighed as he kept fucking her with half of his cock, wanting her to get used to the stretch before he could give her all of him, “so tight”.
“Please, Bucky,” she moaned, her heart and pussy simultaneously fluttering at Bucky calling her his love yet again, “I can take it.” She promised, opening her thighs as far as they would go for him.
Bucky could all but snarl hungrily as he leaned forward, burying his face in her soft neck before gradually pushing the rest of his cock inside her tight throbbing cunt inch by inch until he had bottomed out.
He took a second to calm himself down, not wanting to burst so fast. Then he was pulling out just enough for his bulbous tip alone to remain inside of her before sliding back into her cunt, gasping into her neck at the sensation of being totally wrapped up in her snug warmth.
She couldn’t help but cry out at the pleasure as he orc fucked her deeply, reaching places inside of her she never knew existed.
She thought it would take longer for her body to get used to Bucky’s girth, but it was like she was made for him, her pussy effortlessly accepting him every time he pressed back home.
The tip of Bucky’s cock easily found her special spot, ramming into it over and over every time he drove himself back into her heat.
“Oh, Bucky!” She squealed, her back already bowing once more as her vision got blurrier and Bucky knew he wasn’t going to last much longer when her nails dug into his skin again.
His breath was labored when he raised his head, wanting a taste of her lips as his thrusts became faster, more desperate. He swallowed her loud moans, leaving the only sound in the empty cottage to be the sound of skin slapping against skin as he fucked her faster.
“Bucky, it’s gonna happen again,” she whined and Bucky brought his hand down to her clit at once, wanting to see and feel her crumble on his cock.
“Yeah? You gonna cum on my fat cock, little human?”
She nodded frantically, her legs wrapping around Bucky’s waist.
“Cum for me, sweet thing. Let me feel your tight little pussy cum on my cock.”
Bucky’s dirty whispers in her ear, his deep thrusts and his frantic rubbing on her sensitive clit were making her lose control; making her lightheaded with desire as she let herself go again, full body tensing before shaking in her orc’s arms.
Bucky could no longer hold back, his guttural growl making her clench hard. He gave a few more thrusts before pushing his cock as deep as it would go inside her quivering pussy, keeping his assault on her clit going to keep her clenching around him. He felt his cock twitch as he emptied his balls inside her. His cock wouldn’t stop throbbing as he filled his little human up with his hot cum.
Before any of them could comprehend it, she was cumming again just at the feeling of Bucky cumming inside of her, making him groan as her walls squeezed his cock, milking him for all that he was worth.
He let himself collapse on top of her for just a minute before feeling the need to pull out because she wouldn’t stop pulsating and shuddering around his sensitive cock.
Bucky didn’t think he had ever cum so hard in his entire life.
A smile spread on his lips as he flipped on his side, watching her chest rise and fall with her slowing breaths.
He trailed a finger up her still slightly trembling thigh, making her open her tired eyes to look at him.
She gave him a sweet smile, biting her lip as she squirmed, timidly closing her thighs and Bucky could see the exact moment she realized that his cum was leaking out of her abused hole, smirking at how bashful she got straightaway.
“Are you okay, little human?” Bucky asked, his finger tracing up her abdomen, around the curve of her breast and up under her chin, keeping her gaze on his.
She nodded, her expression cock-drunk despite the shyness, “when— when can we do that again?”
Her question pulled an astonished laugh out of Bucky as he wrapped a hair strand around his finger, “any time you want, my love.” He brought her forehead to his lips, kissing her adoringly.
Gods, he was so in love that his heart felt like it would burst.
She smiled bigger, satisfied with the answer as she moved closer, settling on her orc’s broad chest and snuggling close to his warmth, “I love you, Bucky.”
“I love you, sweet thing.” Bucky gave her lips a deep kiss.
“So orcs do do that.” She mumbled with a sleepy smile against his lips, making him laugh into her mouth.
She giggled a little before pushing her nose further into Bucky’s neck, gracefully falling asleep to his scent.
As she laid in his arms, vulnerable and exposed, Bucky felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him as he pulled the heavy blanket up her naked form, holding her closer to him.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her hairline, vowing to always be there for her. She was his, and he was hers, destined together through a love that defied all odds.
And as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, Bucky knew that he had found his home, his safe haven, in the embrace of this one girl who had so easily stolen his heart.
~
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Hello if you’re still doing Bucky one shots can you please do a Bucky x f!reader who gets kidnapped and controlled/programmed by Hydra and Bucky fights to get through to her and break the programming by having filthy sex
Break Through » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x HYDRA Agent!FemaleReader
Summary: Y/N got kidnapped by HYDRA and Bucky tries to break through the programming to get her back to her normal self in a different way.
Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, vibranium arm kink, praise kink, use of pet names.
A/N: Y/N is referred to as HYDRA’s Princess.
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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Bucky cautiously walked through the HYDRA base with his gun held out in front of him, in search for you. You got kidnapped by HYDRA three months ago and Bucky finally found the base you’re being held in. Bucky’s attention was quickly turned on the room down the hall when he heard a loud noise. When he walked in the room, he checked every part of it. That’s when the door slammed shut. Bucky quickly turned around with his gun held out.
“Y/N?” Bucky says softly, slowly lowering his gun.
“Who the hell is Y/N?” You asked, tilting your head.
“What did they do to you, doll?” He asks, putting his gun in the holster.
“Didn’t you hear? I’m HYDRA’s new princess.” You tell him, slowly walking towards him.
“No you’re not. You’re an Avenger.” He says.
You chuckled and looked at him, stopping just a few feet from him.
“How would you know, Soldat?” You questioned.
Bucky cringed when you called him Soldat. He hasn’t been called that in a while.
“The Y/N I know is sweet and loving. Not a HYDRA agent.” He says.
“That Y/N is long gone, Soldat. I haven’t been her in quite some time.” You tell him. “Now…” You pulled a knife from the holster on your thigh. “Let’s get down to business.” You start, twirling the knife in your hand. “You have two options. One, you willingly come with me back to the lab and get your memory wiped and back under our control. Two, we fight. I suggest you choose wisely.” You say.
“I’m not going to fight you, doll. You’re my friend. I don’t fight my friends.” He says.
“Then I’ll choose for you.” You say.
You lunged at him with the knife, but Bucky quickly grabbed your arm with his right hand and took the knife from your hand with his vibranium hand, throwing it somewhere in the room.
“Y/N, listen to me. This isn’t you. They have you under their control. You have to fight this and break through it.” He says.
You threw a punch at him with your free fist. Bucky let go of your arm and put his hand on his jaw where you punched him. You threw a few more punches at him before lifting your leg to roundhouse kick him, but Bucky grabbed your leg and made you fall to the floor. You used your foot to knock Bucky to the floor next to you. You got on top of him, straddling him.
“Is that your gun or are you happy to see me, Soldat?” You asked with a smirk when you felt his bulge pressing against your clothed pussy.
“Both.” He answers.
Bucky caught you off guard by flipping the two of you over so now you’re on the floor and he’s on top of you. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. You squirmed in his hold to get out, but he was too strong.
“You gonna show me a good time, Soldat?” You asked.
“That depends. Are you going to be a good girl for me or are we going to do this the hard way?” He asks.
“I love doing things the hard way.” You say with a smirk.
“Hard way it is then.” He says.
Bucky’s vibranium hand unbuttoned and unzipped the button and zipper on your tactical pants. He slid his hand inside of your pants, rubbing your pussy through wet panties. You moaned and bucked your hips against his hand. He moved your panties to the side, his vibranium fingers rubbed from your clit to your tight entrance. His unexpectedly slid two of his vibranium fingers inside of you, making you gasp. He thrusted them in and out of you at a fast pace. You were almost like putty in his hands.
“More!” You begged.
“You want more? I’ll give you more, doll.” Bucky says.
Bucky pulled his vibranium fingers out of you to unbuckle his belt and unbutton and unzip the button and zipper on his tactical pants. He pulled them down just enough for his hard cock to spring out. He let go of your wrists to pull down your tactical pants and panties in one go. You couldn’t help but stare at his cock.
“My eyes are up here, doll face.” He says, snapping his fingers in your face.
Bucky flipped you over onto your stomach and lifted your hips up so your ass was sticking out towards him. He pumped his cock in his right hand a couple times before rubbing in between your wet folds, covering it with your slick. You gasped when you felt his tip at your entrance. He slowly slid his cock inside of you till he was balls deep inside of you.
“Is that it?” You asked teasingly with a giggle.
Bucky pulled out almost all the way, only leaving his tip inside of you and unexpectedly thrusting back inside of you roughly, making you moan loudly. His hands held onto your hips tightly as he fucked you, occasionally bringing your hips back to meet his thrusts.
“C’mon, doll. You know me.” Bucky says.
You shook your head no, not able to form coherent words, just moans. Your mind was all over the place. You wanted to fight him and finish your mission, but at the same time you wanted him to fuck you senseless like he’s doing in this very moment. Bucky moved your hair and leaned down, kissing along your neck. You gasped when you felt his teeth nip your skin hard enough for hickeys. Your cunt squeezed around his cock as a reaction.
“That’s a start.” Bucky says against your skin. “Your pussy remembers me.” He says with a light chuckle.
“Shut up and fuck me harder!” You managed to say without moaning.
“Fuck you harder? Your wish is my command, doll face.” He smirks.
Bucky sat up on his knees and got a good grip on your hips and began pounding into you. That’s when your mind went fuzzy, along with pleasure taking over your body. Your mind was moving a million miles an hour. It felt like there was so many things going on. You couldn’t tell if this was HYDRA’s control on you or if you were trying to break through it. Either or, you were loving what’s happening in this very moment.
“I- mmm fuck!” You moaned, trying to form a sentence.
“C’mon, doll. You can break through the control. I know you can.” He says.
You opened your mouth to say something, but a loud moan left your lips instead when his cock hit your sweet spot.
“Right there!” You say, followed by a moan.
Bucky smirked to himself. His vibranium hand left your hip and found its way to your front, blindly finding your clit and began rubbing it in fast circles. Nothing but moans and screams of pleasure left your lips.
“Talk to me, babydoll.” He says, his voice raspy.
“I’ll help you find what you came here for if you keep fucking me.” You say.
“I already found what I came here for… you.” He says.
That’s when a floodgate of memories came flooding in your mind. Memories of Bucky being restored back in your mind. Your breathing got heavier. Pleasure was about to wash over you when you felt your orgasm building up.
“Oh fuck!” You moaned. “Please let me cum!” You begged.
“Cum for me, babydoll.” Bucky pants.
His fingers rubbed faster on your clit. A moan left of his name left your lips as you came. Bucky fucked you through your orgasm with his own orgasm building up. He lost rhythm with his thrusts, but quickly regained it. After a few more thrusts, he came inside of you with a moan leaving his lips. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He slowly pulled out of you and sat back on his knees to catch his breath while you laid on your stomach on the floor. You panted and squeezed your eyes shut as you rolled over onto your back.
“Bucky…” You say breathlessly, looking at him.
“Do you remember me?” Bucky asks.
“Mhmm.” You hummed with a smile.
Bucky hovered over you and leaned down to kiss you passionately. He put his cock back in his boxers and redid his tactical pants. Bucky helped you pull up your panties and tactical pants and helped you stand up. Your legs were wobbly and you fell against Bucky’s chest.
“Let’s get you out of here, doll.” Bucky says softly, picking you up bridal style.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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shamrockqueen · 3 days
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Omega retreat : chapter 4
Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega reader
Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, General Discomfort, nothing is what it seems, fluff, heart ache
Word count : 2131
Masterlist
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He was very understanding when you asked him to give you time to think about his invitation. It was the turning point you hoped to avoid just a little longer, appreciating instead that you could be just like any other normal girl. Yet, some things couldn't be left on the back burner.
The untouched notification continued to light up your inbox, no doubt just being the website’s way of ensuring their reservation went through and they would be paid.
You turned over to look at your phone and the little banner still sitting at the top that said, “You’ve been invited to reserve a cabin by JAMES BARNES.”
It was fitting that he’d picked the Gold Package, and you had to admit, a sexy getaway was incredibly tantalizing.
Yet, everything felt rushed, and you knew exactly why. You knew you were always going to give in, but ever since that conversation at the hospital, you wanted so badly for every choice to at least be your own. Something you wanted to do, not be coerced by circumstances.
You told yourself every second after you’d logged into your computer, your eyes still heavy with broken sleep, that this was still your decision. Accepting the invite would be your decision, no matter what reason you had to make it.
With one simple click, it was done, a cascade of hearts flooding the screen as their little mascot hopped around with joy. It was cute, yet still a little cheesy.
You set the computer aside before laying back on the bed and letting the small streaks of sun coming in from the window warm your skin. You felt so oddly relieved, yet still so anxious. It was a good start, better than what you had before.
A small ding sang through the peaceful morning, and once again you emerged from your little sheet cocoon to grab your phone from the nightstand. It was a message from Bucky, and he seemed as excited as ever to have gotten your confirmation.
‘Good morning :D’
You smiled at the message, feeling more relief spread through your tired body as you typed back.
‘Morning. I take it you got the notification.’
You watched as those three dots jumped inside the prospective chat bubble before two popped up at once.
‘I did indeed.’
‘You have no idea how happy this makes me.’
Everything he said always seemed to make your heart blossom with a new feeling of warmth. It really put into perspective how tiring all that stress and anxiety really was when it finally started to disappear.
Expressing his eagerness through text must not have been enough for him, as the phone buzzed to life in your hand before you could type another reply.
You didn’t hesitate to answer it, and your belly fluttered at the low rumble of his voice as it sang through the speaker.
“Hey, doll”
“Hi. You miss me already?”
You heard him chuckle softly, probably smiling at the bashful tone in your voice. “I hope I’m not coming on too strong.”
“No! I think it’s really sweet.”
It was nice to have someone care this much about your needs, especially above their own. It was someone who wanted to take care of you at what may well be your weakest.
You hear him clear his throat for a second, shaking the sweet and sugary vibe that the conversation had started on. “Do I have the date right? If not, then I can fix the reservation..”
“No, you remembered very well. I’m actually surprised.”
“I guess I’m just excited.”
“That makes two of us; I’m practically shaking in my boots.”
He laughed back at your goofy little retort, and you giggled nervously along with him.
“I was kind of afraid you’d say no.” His voice seemed to fall again as he spoke, giving you a glimpse of a few insecurities of his own. “Like, maybe I scared you away.”
“As if.” You laughed it off immediately, bemused at the thought that he’d consider himself anything more than the teddy bear he’d shown you.
“I needed some time to take it in for a second. I just felt so much in the moment, ya-know.” You smiled down at the phone as you spoke, hoping you could melt his fears just as he did yours. “Believe me, you're not scary one bit.”
You swear you could feel the laugh he’d let out as you chuckled with him.
He’d talked to you for hours, showering you with compliments as he finalized the details of your trip.
“Are you sure you’ll be able to take that time off? It is pretty soon.” You stepped around your kitchen, looking for a mug to pour some coffee into. Bucky watched your shapely form as it moved across his screen, smiling to himself before you turned back to the phone and caught his eyes wondering.
The conversation had since evolved into a video call, letting you see the actual smile on his face. There would be glimpses of the rough grain in his facial hair and the deepening blue of his eyes, but there were finer details that you couldn’t see.
You wanted to see so much more, and soon you will. That thought alone made you feel so much happier.
He brushed his hair back with his fingers, leaving a thick lock behind his ear and a few strands to fall back across his forehead and cheek.
“I’ll be just fine; help to be your own boss.”
“Oh? Big boss, man, huh?”
He huffed a chuckle before he spoke back, “A story for another time, but I’ll tell you now it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
You gave him a little pout.
“What about you?” He asked, in a clear attempt to redirect the conversation back to the original question.
“Oh, I always get my heat off. It’s kinda like that for Omega’s.”
You were more than lucky to work in an environment that was so welcoming to people like you, and you were sure that your supervisor would understand.
“Makes sense..” You watched his eyes wander from the screen as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. It looked so out of date that it was no wonder why he only used the webcam on his computer.
“Nice flip phone, grandpa.”
He laughed back at you with “gee thanks, doll” before tossing down the bad news. “I gotta go.”
“Awe, already.”
“Yeah, nothing like a work emergency on a Saturday.” You watched him toss the phone on his desk offscreen before turning back to you. “I can’t wait to see you, Omega.”
“I can’t wait either, Alpha.” You felt his eyes shift as you spoke, as if finally hearing you say his denomination so diffidently.
You tapped the red button on the phone screen, ending the call before you turned it off and set it aside.
By mid-afternoon, you’d since decided to knock out a few of your household chores. You were already elbow deep in some soapy dishwater when you heard another familiar ringtone. You fumbled for the dish towel nearby to dry your pruney fingers before grappling with your phone.
You accepted the call and called back a sweet greeting to one of your favorite people.
“Hi, mom.”
“Hi sweetie. I haven’t heard from you in a few days..” Her concern was sweet, but you were quick to cut her short, not wanting another reminder of the previous incident.
“I’m fine, mom.”
She sighed back, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I know.”
“Any news?” Her voice lightened, truly hoping there would have been an update on your condition and even more so that it was promising.
There was plenty of news, wonderful news that you weren’t ready to break to your worrisome mothers just yet.
Better now than never, it seemed, “I met someone.”
“Oh?”
She didn’t sound happy, and every second afterward that she left you in silence made your once-airy mood deflate.
"He's uh...He’s an alpha.” Your jaw only tightens further as you wait for an answer back. Anything would be better than another ‘oh?’
“Well, that’s nice. W-where did you two..meet?” Her discomfort was never easily hidden, but at least she was trying.
“We met on this dating site, and we’ll be spending some time together soon.”
“I see. So is it a date to a cafe or dinner?”
“We’re going away for...." You struggled to find the words, "...it’s just this vacation rental somewhere quiet and calm.”
“Oh, a getaway. Sounds nice, but... you know your cycle will be coming soon. It’s probably best to be careful.”
“I-I'll be taken care of..."
“Are you sure? I can always be there to take care of you in case of another emergency.”
You felt your stomach tighten a little as she spoke.
“That’s actually why we’ll be out of town.” Your toes shifted along the floor, carting you to the fridge so you could grip the handle to better hold yourself upright.
She didn’t answer back right away, only giving you a weak “you can’t do that.”
It made the blood freeze in your veins, leaving your body tense against the refrigerator. “Mom..”
“Do you have any idea what might happen to you all that way from home?”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“The hell you do. You can’t do this. I can’t lose you.”
She seemed to spiral nearly as badly as you did.
“If I go through another heat without a partner, you fucking will lose me.” You nearly wailed as you yelled back into the phone, only to be met with a few moments of dead air.
It made the frantic beat of your heart seem louder and louder. Proof that no matter how calm the waters felt, you couldn’t escape the truth that swam beneath them.
“Sweetheart, I only want you to be safe.”
You knock your head back against the fridge before letting your body slide along the side of it, letting the newly mounting anxieties drag you down to the floor. “I’m not safe alone, mom.”
“I’m sorry. I know you wanted to wait for all this, and it’s not fair.” Her voice was just as weak as yours was now.
“It’s fine; I need to grow up sometime.” You said back, pulling your knees to your chest. You didn’t want to wallow in this disparity anymore; you were so sick of it all. It takes a single thought—a glimmer of hope shining through the dark clouds that have begun to circle around you.
You thought of Bucky.
“B..James’ is nice; I think you’d like him.” You had to quickly correct yourself, knowing his nickname had been sweet to you but could seem silly to others. You still remember the abashed laugh you gave when he first told you.
“I…good, that’s good.”
You knew that wasn’t what she wanted to say, and now you weren’t afraid to say it instead.
“You think you’d like him more if you’d gotten to meet him.”
“I didn’t say that, but yes.” You hear her voice wavering as she speaks. “I’m glad, though, that he’s nice. I hope you have fun on your trip.”
“Thank you, mom.”
“Please be safe, sweetheart. I love you.”
You sighed for a second before telling her you loved her too, and the call came to an end. You were still hugging your knees, nearly curling in on yourself in your kitchen. The floor was uncomfortable, and you finally unfolded yourself and pushed off of it. You missed the careless feeling you’d had while talking to Bucky, lamenting how easily your mood had dipped like a sinking ship.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair at all. Just when you thought you could escape the anxiety, it rounded its ugly head around each corner. Well, this time you wouldn’t be taking it lying down anymore.
You used this new momentum to spur yourself through the house and towards your bedroom. You bolted for your closet, determined now only to look ahead to your chance to get away from it all. You tore through your hung clothes, wanting to find anything that could impress your perspective, Alpha.
You found yourself leafing through more khaki shorts than you’d realized you’d owned. Faded sundresses and worn-out old sandals littered the pile, along with plain cotton panties in contrast to any lacy lingerie.
You still had a long way to go before you truly felt comfortable in your own skin. But certainly, a little shopping could do some good too.
There was a fire in your belly, burning you forward like an angry locomotive.
It will be a cold day in hell before anyone takes this opportunity away from you.
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Tag list : @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault
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brnesblogposts · 22 hours
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monster in his nightmares
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pairing bucky barnes x reader
warnings ANGST!!!
a/n can you guys let me know if you can click on my master list and are directed to my fics because it’s not working for me.
reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed !
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You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe. Your neck is being squeezed so tight your vision spotting as panic takes over.
“Bu- Bucky” You whisper as best you can in broken breathes, he doesn’t know he’s doing it. He never does, his nightmares are vivid and so real to him and he can’t control his physical reactions, tears are rolling down your face as you move your hand to grip his metal wrist and try loosen his grip, you don’t want it to have to come to violence but the fear you might die and the fear he’d spend the rest of his life feeling guilty for something he couldn’t control- you start kicking him, kicking and hitting. Wake up, wake up you think to yourself
‘No. Stop. Please. Dont put me back in the chair, dont wipe my mind again’ Bucky thinks to himself in a panic as Hyrda agents push him back, how did they find him? how was he tricked into being taken again and now his memory wiped of everything he loves- his memories of you- ‘No.’ The thought of losing you is enough to make him push through and use all his strength, he takes his metal hand and wraps it around the nearest agents neck, it call kicks off into a frenzy then but he fights through it, he watches as the life drains out of the agents face.
“Bu- bucky?” What? No they don’t- they call him soldat- who’s speaking, who’s kicking him? this man he’s strangling sounds like a woman? odd. what’s happening?
He’s in a room, it’s dark. He’s on something soft, a mattress? They don’t give out those in Hydra so he can’t be back with them, who’s underneath him?
“You’re okay” Strangled sobs, you don’t know how much longer you can hold on. “Bucky” You all but desperately whine, that’s when he really wakes up.
Bucky shoots back quickly sitting on his knees as you take in deep breathes of oxygen and rub at your aching throat, he’s bewildered, did he? He hurt you. He hurt his doll.. He jumps off of the bed and backs away, he’s shaking, sweating, he’s starting to violently sob as reality comes crashing down. He almost killed you.
You finally get enough air in your lungs to notice Bucky is gone, you sit up and your heart breaks as you see him sitting against the wall on the other side of the room, looking at his metal hand like it’s a weapon, like he’s sickened by the sight of it. Getting up slowly you approach him and crouch in front of him, at the approach of your hand he flinches.
“No” That one word holding so much pain.
“Get away from me, I- I don’t wanna hurt you anymore Doll” He’s not looking at you, he can’t. If he sees the state of your neck, the bruises he’s left-
“Bucky” You whisper quietly as he shakes his head again, it’s hard for him to comeback down from nightmares but you don’t know what to do in this particular situation, he’s never hurt you because of them before, not this bad.
“It’s not your fault” You reassure him, not expecting an answer but you hope to get through to him, that the reassurance and love you show him right now will help him see he’s not the man in his nightmares.
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me” You say as you sit down across him him still giving him space as he holds his head in his hands and cries.
“I’m okay” You don’t care how long you have to sit here, as long as Bucky needs you’re gonna be there for him.
You sit in silence for a few minutes and just watch him as he takes some deep breathes, a technique he learnt in therapy, you get up and grab him some water leaving it by him for him to take in his own time, he does eventually and takes small sips.
A record is playing softly in the background he notices, one of his favourites. He senses your presence, he knows you’re there but he doesn’t understand why. He almost killed you, why aren’t you running away from him?
“I-i’m dangerous, you should get away from me-” He wont meet your eyes.
“I trust you, Bucky.” You don’t know what else you can say to reassure him, he just needs time to come down from this.
“How?” He looks at you now, grimacing as he sees the bruises on your neck. “How can you trust me, look what I did.” He’s so ashamed.
“You didn’t mean to. You were having a nightmare, we can work this out, we can talk to some doctors and see how to get your physical reactions to nightmares under control Buck. If you think i’m leaving because of this you’re wrong. I’m fine, you came out of it and i’m okay” Tears build up behind your eyes but Bucky is so fragile and vulnerable right now you’re trying to be strong for him.
He stares at you for a few seconds, his eyes wet with tears and his face one of shock horror, you can’t hold it back anymore you start to tear up.
“I’m so sorry you have to go through this, I wish I could take it all away, I really wish I could.” You reach your hand out in hopes he’ll let you have that little bit of contact and he does, he takes your hand albeit cautiously and at the contact you start to cry harder.
“You don’t deserve any of it, Buck. You never did. You’re the best man i’ve ever met and your heart is so pure. It makes me so mad to think about what you’ve been through and how it will stick with you for the rest of your life. It’s fucked up and I wish- I wish I could- I want to kill everyone who has ever been bad to you or used you.” The frustration of having to watch Bucky suffer the severe PTSD that he does hurts your heart, it causes your chest to actually ache because he is so sweet, so gentle.
“Don’t cry” Bucky says in response as his heart is being ripped out of his chest at the sight of you so upset. “There’s no need to cry” Despite everything he’s been through seeing you even just the tiniest bit upset hurts him more than anything ever could, so it’s for that reason that he looks past the fear he’s holding and leans forward to pull you into his chest.
You instantly curl up, this is so grounding for Bucky, feeling your heartbeat against his, your skin on his skin, it’s so intimate for him in times like these where he’s taken back to times when he never received simple love like touch, now more than ever he cherishes it.
“Buck-“ You croak out as you kiss his face all over, trying to show just how much you love him. He shushes you and rocks with you, his head clearing and eyes drying up. Your presence alone does more than therapy ever can.
So you both sit there for awhile, the only sounds to be heard is the both of you breathing. You stroke comforting hands up and down Buckys back and through his hair, he relaxes into your touch, into the moment, present. No longer stuck in his nightmare he’s now in a dream, being with you is a dream.
After awhile you speak up “Do you want to go back to bed? Or we can go into the living room and watch a movie or a tv show? Whatever you wanna do” You would do anything for him to be okay, you would take his trauma and deal with it yourself if you could if you knew just for a second that he would finally be at peace in his own mind.
He thinks for a second, contemplating.
“The beds kind of- it’s- too fresh in my mind you know? You can go back to bed baby i’ll go to the cou-“
“No” You cut him off “I’m with you, i’m not leaving your side.” He smiles because he’s grateful for you, with that he stands up, you still clinging to him like a koala and moves the both of you to the couch laying down with you on top of him.
“What do you wanna watch?” He asks.
“Anything you want, whatever is gonna make you feel better” Your hands are in his hair again.
He puts on a lighthearted sitcom that makes the both of you laugh as he strokes his hands up and down your back soothing not just you but himself, the contact keeping him in the moment. That’s how the both of you spend the next hour or so before you hear Bucky snoring lightly, finally sleeping nightmare free and you join him, ready to comfort him should he be woken up again.
a/n i started writing this a few weeks ago and then i got busy and then i fixated on something else but anyways i finished it! kind of hate it now tho but i haven’t posted in awhile,
taglist- @ktgsoul @orihimi-19 @mostlymarvelgirl (let me know if you wanna be added to a permanent bucky taglist)
divider by @/cafekitsune
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missvelvetsstuff · 2 days
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No Benefits
Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter
Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.
Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.
Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon
I try to keep my reader generic but as always she is female and taller than average.
I have to say I've been a bit overwhelmed at the response to this story, I hope I can live up to your expectations.
Chapter 2
Warnings: swearing, angst, a little dirty talk. Bucky's kind of an ass, Sharon is evil.
Cookie just stared at the pictures, heart racing, almost hyperventilating. She shook her head and looked at Nick Fury "This can't be right, can it? Sharon Carter can't be working against us, can she?"
Fury looked at her, concern evident on his face. "I'd like to think it's impossible but look at what happened with Hydra. We knew that Rumlow and the strike team were on our side and it turned out the entire operation had been rotten for decades."
Cookie tried to still her hands "B B But th this, this is different. Sh Sh Sha Sharon C C Carter. SHIELD founder P Peggy Carter's niece can't be the Power Broker." She felt her stomach drop and heart stop when it clicked "Oh god, no she can't but b b but Sam and" whispered "Bucky" the color left her face and she started pacing, bouncing until Nick snapped
"COOKIE!"
Y/N jumped and turned to face her boss "Yessir?"
Nick rubbed her arms "Calm down. You're no good to me like this. Barnes and Wilson are off site with Carter, right? Where are they, exactly?"
Cookie nodded "uh yeah they're um, wait let me see." She pulled her phone out "they should be, Latvia." She exhaled and it felt like she was deflating "Where my informant was killed last night."
Fury nodded "I doubt she wants to kill Wilson or Barnes so we just need to get this info to them. You'll probably have to wait until they come home."
Cookie shook her head "But what if she kidnaps them? What if they don't come back?"
Fury shook his head "We'll cross that bridge if we get to it. I need you to compile everything you have that's even vaguely related to the Power Broker and anything you can find about Carter's movements. Let's see if we can find more links between them." He looked at his watch
"I want you in my office for lunch and we'll go over everything you have." He looked her in the eyes "Alright, Cookie? I know you're concerned about your friends but we need to keep our minds clear and focused on the facts so that we can help keep them safe."
Cookie tried to blink the tears out of her eyes and nodded "Got it, boss." before hurrying to her office by way of the break room because coffee was a dire need at this point.
She made it to her office, closed the door so no one would disturb her, turned on her music and sat down to go through every bit of Intel she had that might offer any clues. There were stacks of correspondence and photos plus some undefined amount of info on a thumb drive that she needed to work through with the only other analysts she absolutely knew she could trust, Dylan and Iris. She had trained with them and came up through Quantico where Nick Fury personally headhunted them.
Cookie didn't want to take a chance by getting too many people involved in this, after the whole SHIELD/HYDRA debacle she kept a couple of people close and everyone else could wait outside her gates until they convinced her they were trustworthy. This was huge and had 2 Avengers directly in Sharon's line of fire so had to be handled carefully.
Cookie also knew that her frayed friendship with Bucky was going to make this even more complicated because Sharon could use that to discredit her so Bucky thinks Cookie is just trying to eliminate a romantic rival.
She shook her head, no time to get distracted by emotions, her friends were in danger and that had to remain her focus. By 1pm, Cookie had synced almost all of Sharon Carter's movements with the power broker. There was no doubt, it was definitely her.
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On the other side of the world, Sam was fed up with his mission partners. Sharon rubbed him the wrong way and Bucky was too wrapped up in her to see anything but sex. Sam had a bad feeling about Sharon, she was constantly wandering off only to be found on her phone and the Power Broker seemed to get away right before they arrived, every single time.
He tried to talk to Bucky but he just laughed it off, explaining how impossible it was for a Carter to be the bad guy. "Sam you're being ridiculous and paranoid even for a spy. Sharon is just as frustrated with our lack of progress as we are. You know sometimes this is just a waiting game." He smirked at his friend "We could find you a nice girl to pass the time with."
Sam shook his head and scoffed "A nice girl? You mean like Cookie for instance, who wouldn't try to distract me with sex like yours is doing to you."
Bucky laughed "You jealous man? I'm just making up for lost time and Cookie didn't want me." His smile dropped as he thought of her.
Sam looked at Bucky with wide eyes "Cookie didn't want you? Now we both know that's not the truth, you just got scared of the idea of a real relationship and dropped her for your living cock sleeve. You're a dumbass, Barnes."
Sam's phone buzzed with a text and he smiled when he saw it was from Cookie. She always checked up to make sure they were eating and sleeping while in the field. He looked at his texts
*<3 BeSafe*CYA*
That caught his attention. CYA= Cover Your Ass. It was their code for trouble close by which meant she found something concerning but the problem was too close to say out loud.
Bucky tried to look over his shoulder "What's that? From Cookie? You fucking her?" His voice dropped and he looked angrily at the ground "I knew she would find someone better."
Sam looked at him with disgust "The fuck is wrong with you? The only reason she might find someone better is cuz you pushed her away when you should have held on tight because you're not gonna find another one like her."
He nodded towards the hall where Sharon had gone "That one is trouble. There's something not right about all this and the way she keeps dragging you off to the bedroom."
Bucky smirked "I can't help that she's insatiable. Don't want to disappoint."
Sharon was in the other room listening to their discussion, smiling at how easily Bucky stood up for her. It was simple enough to get his attention when she came back to work with SWORD and he did all the work pushing Cookie away with his guilt. She was confident that he would take her side if that analyst bitch got too close. Sam could be a problem but nothing she wasn't prepared to handle.
She used a burner phone to send a text to her associate, the Intel analyst in D.C. to let them know she would be returning stateside soon and everything was going according to plan.
In the morning Bucky woke up in bed with Sharon's head on his bare chest and groaned. The position he was in wasn't a concern but he didn't remember going to bed or the usual activities with Sharon that followed. He couldn't remember anything past his talk with Sam, about Cookie. He didn't remember eating but he must have since it had been almost lunch time when he spoke to Sam. If he hadn't eaten he would be famished by now.
He took a deep breath and tried to focus and see if he could find any memories but all he could add was Sharon coming into the room and pulling him into their bedroom.
He looked at his watch and counted hours, he had lost almost 18 hours and couldn't figure out what happened. This wasn't the first time he had lost time on this trip and he didn't like the feeling.
Sam was right, something was off.
Sharon started to stir against him "Hey baby, look who's up before me."
Bucky smiled "Mornin baby, you sleep ok? Did we have some fancy liquor last night? I can't remember a damn thing, not even fucking you for 2 hours and I'm sure I did that."
She whined "I'm that forgettable? I thought I made you feel good." and pouted, rubbing his growing cock to distract him.
He reached between her legs to find her ready "You're always so wet and ready for me sweetheart. Tell me what you need."
Sharon moaned "I need you to fuck me, Barnes. Hard and deep. Right now."
Bucky was only too happy to oblige, the lost time forgotten in their haze of lust.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In her office Cookie and her crew worked well past lunchtime until an intern showed up from Nick's office to remind them of the passage of time.
Cookie put all of the papers and photos into a box since they hadn't had time to digitize it all and write up a comprehensive report. She went over every single detail with Nick and Maria to determine what should go in her report and which points to highlight for field agents.
The rest of the day and into the evening Cookie's team had everything organized and the details and evidence all written up in a 5 page report with back up documentation available in her files. She looked up when her phone buzzed to see it was Sam responding to her earlier text
*👍🐴☔*
She smiled knowing that Sam got it and would watch out for Bucky even if he was a dumbass.
Looking at her watch she saw it was almost midnight and noticed Iris trying to read her text before she quickly put her phone away. Iris and Dylan were her most trusted analysts but even they didn't need to know about her chatting with Sam.
She dismissed them so she could have a bit to herself to reply to Sam and include some details that they didn't have the clearance for.
A few days later when Sam, Bucky and Sharon arrived back home, Cookie was there to meet Sam and barely even acknowledged Bucky or Sharon which made Bucky act out, snapping at Sharon. Sharon was annoyed that he still cared about fucking Cookie, after all the work she had done to get him under control he was still pining for that stupid analyst. She knew something would need to be done about her soon.
Sam and Cookie walked arm in arm to medical to have him checked out, then to the common room when she had left some chili simmering for him plus fresh French bread. They took their lunch and went to his room to eat.
Cookie sat across from Sam while he talked about the mission until the food was gone and he stopped, just staring at her.
Cookie stared back "What?"
He looked at her sideways "First, I love you Cookie but you look like Hell. You're worried about me in the field but you're here looking like you haven't slept or had a decent meal in weeks."
She flinched before whispering "Closer to months."
"No, Cookie. Don't destroy yourself over a man that's too stupid to see what's right in front of him. We need you here. Nick fucking Fury insists you're the best intelligence analyst he's ever met. Ever. From the man who doesn't offer praise lightly.
I need you. I can't trust anyone else to lay all the intel out just so it flows for me. Or make sure I'm taken care of when I come back from a mission?
And his dumb ass might not know it or be willing to admit it but Barnes needs you too. He's in love with you, he just thinks he's being good and noble by pushing you away. And if he doesn't figure it out, there's plenty of other men and women that would jump at the chance to be with you. So take care of yourself."
Sam sighed "Second, I know you didn't send the CYA code for shits and giggles so tell me. What do you know?"
Cookie shifted uncomfortably "I want you to know this has nothing to do with their relationship, I didn't look to discredit her or hurt him but you know I have to follow the evidence where it leads me, without prejudice. You know I-"
Sam stopped her "I know you are impartial and I trust you and your conclusions so just spit it out and we'll go from there. Ok?"
Cookie nodded and took a deep breath before blurting out "Sharoncarteristhepowerbroker" then covering her mouth and looked at Sam with wide eyes.
Sam stopped and stared "Please tell me you didn't just say what I think you said. Tell me that she's-. Fuck." He shook his head "I know you have proof. Cookie, you have to tell Barnes."
She blinked rapidly trying to clear the tears that suddenly welled up in her eyes "Nononono, no I can't tell him. He will think I'm some disgruntled woman trying to hurt my rival. You have to tell him Sam he will never listen to me. Hell he hasn't even spoken to me outside of work ever since...."
Her eyes filled up and she tried to hold the tears back but she had been keeping it all in for so long.
Sam pulled her into his chest and sighed "Alright. Give me what you have, I'll talk to him tomorrow. And what's with all the containers of Cookies?"
Cookie shrugged "I was worried about you. Couldn't sleep. I made some of your favorites, the red velvet. The frosted ones are *special* to help you sleep."
Sam hugged Cookie and kissed her cheek "Alright babygirl, lay it out for me..." They spent the next hour going over everything she had before her eyes started drooping. "Okay Miss Cookie, go get some sleep and I'll see you at the debrief tomorrow."
Cookie gathered her paperwork and left Sam's room only to see Bucky in the kitchen. She didn't want to ignore him so nodded and grunted as she passed without slowing down. Bucky just watched her leave, wondering what she was doing in Sam's room so late.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After their run the next morning Sam and Bucky sat down for coffee. Sharon told Bucky she wanted to sleep in so Sam figured now was the time.
Bucky started in on him before he even spoke "What's up with you and Cookie? You are fucking her aren't you? I saw her leave your room early this morning. Don't fucking lie to me jerk."
Sam brushed him off, "None of your damn business."
He tried to change the subject and explain about Sharon but Bucky didn't respond well
"What the fuck do you mean Sam? Sharon is not the goddamn power broker, that's ridiculous, her aunt was a founder of SHIELD. Where did you get your Intel from?" Sam looked at him pointedly, like there was any other person who Sam trusts completely.
Bucky shook his head angrily and stood up to head to Cookies office. "I can't believe you fell for it Sam. She's just trying to get Sharon back because she is with me. I turned her down for a relationship so she wants to hurt me back. Sharon warned me that she would try to pull something like this."
Sam stood up and grabbed Bucky's arm "Are you kidding me? You think Cookie would put her career and reputation on the line for petty jealousies? That she would ruin Sharon's reputation for revenge, over you? I guess you don't really know her after all." He shook his head "I'm disappointed in you man. I thought better of you. Good luck confronting Cookie, she's not interested in your shit."
Cookie was at her desk making packets with the Intel on the power broker for the top brass when Maria stopped by.
"Hows everything, Cookie? Got that power broker packet for me?"
Cookie nodded "It's right here." and reached out with a folder.
Maria noticed her hands "Cookie? What happened to your nails? When was the last time you had a mani-pedi? Is your girl sick?" She looked over Cookies hands in concern, she never missed her nail appointment.
Cookie shrugged "I don't know, I forgot. It's no big deal."
Maria looked closer "You look like Hell. Finish the packets up and take the afternoon off, you need-"
"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"
@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes
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delicatebarness · 23 hours
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i think he knows | chapter ten
Summary: THE LIST
Warnings: Underage drinking.
Word Count: 1380
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A/N: This Bucky is my everything.
Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1 | @cjand10 | @armystay89 | @itvy5601 |
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As you pulled up to the corner of your street, Bucky turned off the engine but made no effort to move off the bike. He turned to you, his expression was earnest and filled with vulnerability. “I know this is a lot to process, Sunshine. I thought it would be best to hear it from me,” he confessed, his voice laced with regret, you couldn’t put your finger on what he regretted. Was it regret for betting on Steve? Was it regret for telling you? Or, was it regret for something else?
Your heart clenched at his words, the fear of being a pawn again gnawed at you. “Bucky,” you sighed as your voice began to tremble, tears threatening to spill. “Is there.. Is there any chance that I’m a part of a bet too?” The question hung in the air, the accusation heavy.
His eyes widened in alarm, getting off the bike, he turned his entire body to face you. You took the helmet off to see him better. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing away stray tears. “No,” he assured you, his voice was firm. “I swear to you, you are not and never were a part of any bet.” 
“I want to believe you, I do,” you admitted, your head resting in his hand. “But.. after everything you’ve told me, I can’t help but wonder…”
Bucky’s expression softened, “I know I’ve given you reasons to doubt me, I am truly sorry for that,” he cut you off, his voice filled with sincerity. “But, on everything, I swear, my feelings for you are real, not something I’m going to gamble on.” 
Tears began to well in your eyes again, the fear of him hurting you and the genuine connection you felt towards him had you torn. “ I need time, Bucky,” you whispered, “Time to sort through my feelings, I need to know for sure I can trust you.” 
Bucky nodded, his gaze never left yours. “Take all the time you need, Sunshine,” he promised. His hand gently enveloped yours before you could get down from the bike. “Before you go, can I take you to show you something first?” he said softly, his eyes pleading with yours.
You hesitated for a moment, but ultimately you nodded.
~
As Bucky pulled up at Stark’s Motors, you couldn’t help but notice Pierto’s car, Wanda’s brother’s, parked outside. Confusion brought your eyebrows together, wondering what he was doing here. Before you could voice your thoughts, Bucky stopped the engine, getting off the bike he reached for your hand, helping you off and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
You followed Bucky into the garage, your eyes widening in surprise as you spotted Wanda and Peter mingling with Bucky’s friends. The most unexpected sight, you couldn’t help but feel anxious yet curious. Is this what Bucky wanted to show you?
Your friends and Bucky’s turned to greet you both, their expressions were all a mix of surprise. Natasha’s eyebrow arched as a playful smirk tugged at her lips.
Bucky sighed as he made his way over to the couches, picking up the litter of empty chip packets and beer bottles and mumbling under his breath to his friends. His jaw tenses with his barely contained anger as he takes in the scene.
Wanda and Peter approached you with their friendly smiles, their presence eased some of your tension. “Hey,” Wanda slurred, “We thought we’d come by and hang with these guys,”
Peter nodded in agreement, “Yeah, we came to talk to them and ended up having a party,” there was a mischievous twinkle in Peter’s eyes that you had never seen before. 
“Fuck sake, guys,” Bucky muttered, his voice tight with irritation. He shot glances at his friends. “I brought her here to gain her trust, and you’ve got her friends pissed.” 
Natasha rolled her eyes, a smirk still playing on her lips as she took another swig from her bottle. “Relax, Barnes,” she teased. “We’re just having fun,” Bucky’s temper flared at her nonchalant attitude, his fists clenching around an empty bottle.
You watched Bucky’s frustration simmer until you decided to approach him with a sympathetic expression. Sensing your presence, her turned to you, his features instantly softening as he caught sight of you. “Hey,” you whispered to him as you gently touched his arm. “Are you okay?” 
Bucky’s tense demeanor melted away at the sound of your voice, a calm washing over him. “Yeah, I’m alright,” he replied, his voice softer. “Just.. this isn’t what I had to show you.” he motioned toward the mess and your drunk friends.
You nodded in understanding, casting a glance around the chaotic scene you walked into. “I can see that,” you said with a small smile as you squeezed his arm gently. “What was it that you wanted to show me, then?” 
Bucky reached for your hand as he looked towards the door that had “Office” written over the frosted glass, “Let’s go somewhere more private, and sober.” 
He led you toward the door at the back of the garage. Pushing it open he motioned for you to step inside. After closing the door behind him, he reached for a folder labeled “Anthony’s Stuff” and pulled out a piece of paper. 
“This is what I wanted to show you,” he explained as he handed you the paper.
Your eyes widened as you scanned the contents of the page, your heart sinking at the words. It was a handwritten list made to look like a spreadsheet. At the top of the page were the words: Off Limits. You felt a lump form in your throat as you traced your finger over the names, stopping when you came across yours. 
Bucky watched you carefully, his expression unreadable, he waited for your reaction. “It’s the list of people that we’ve said are off-limits,” he said quietly. “As long as your name is on that list, no one in this garage is allowed to use you as a bet.” 
Your eye flickered around the paper, scanning over the dates, and names listed under initialed columns. “What do these dates mean?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper but tinged with curiosity.
Bucky hesitated for a moment before answering, “They’re the dates when each person was added to the list,” he explained. “It’s our way of keeping track, etc.” 
You nodded slowly, processing the information. The date next to your name was surprising to you, you traced your finger over it again. “My first day of freshman year?” you asked, looking up at him for the first time since reading the list.
“The first thing I did after school that day was come here and put your name on the list,” he admitted, “You are the only person I’ve added to the list,” he continued as he moved to stand behind you, pointing toward information on the list as he talks you through it. “All of our names up here, then the names of who they added and when.” 
You listened intently, your complete focus on him as he explained. Every word he spoke you absorbed it all, wanting to know and understand every little detail. As he finished explaining the details, a silence settled between the two of you. The only noise coming from your breathing and the noise of the ‘party’ happening out in the garage. 
Finally, you broke the silence. “Why did you add my name?” you asked, searching his eyes for answers. 
He took a deep breath, his gaze moving away before returning to meet yours. “Because,” he began, hesitation in his voice. “I, um, I sorta had a crush on you.” You noticed a slight flush creep up onto his cheeks. “I wanted to make sure you were protected,” he glances over to the closed door. The only thing separating the two of you from your friends. “That no one in this garage could ever use you as part of their games.” 
His confessions have caught you off guard, you never expected him to reveal something so personal. You were touched by his vulnerability, “Thank you, Bucky,”
Bucky offered a smile, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Sunshine.”
---
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biteofcherry · 2 days
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oh Aspen, but why is it so emotional and intimate 🥺🩷
It makes me think of Echo That Thunders Bucky.
One of the nights shortly after your reunion.
It amazed you both how simple and easy that day went. As well the few before it. All of them, if you were being honest.
Yes, there were those moments of thoughts gaining speed and tangling in skeins, but they untangled the second you were in the same room again.
Perhaps it was due to how well you co-parented even when you were divorced, or maybe you and Bucky simply perfectly fit together, but you fell back into it as if you never parted.
It wasn't only about taking care of your son and sharing chores. The way you two were around each other, with each other, was harmony.
There was no awkwardness when Bucky walked into the bathroom as you stepped out of the shower. No shyness in the way you squeezed his butt as you passed him.
You went through your routine of applying skincare on your face while Bucky sat on the bed and flipped through the pages of the newest book he was reading, trying to find the chapter he paused at (because he always kept losing the bookmark).
Once he found it, he placed the book on the nightstand - open on said chapter, cover facing up. Then he slid across the bed in one swift move, causing you to laugh when landed on your side, with his thighs perfectly spread on the sides of your foot that was propped on the mattress as you applied lotion on your body.
Bucky's fingers gently kneaded the muscles of your calf as he offered to help you rub in the lotion.
Then they traveled upwards. His mouth following.
Your robe fell to the floor; your nightie soon joining it. As you sank down on Bucky's lap, his hands roamed over your warm, sweetly scented body.
The way Bucky touched you wasn't a mere reflection of sexual need, though his hardness that twitched against your thigh sure was sending that message.
His touch was a caress - whether gentle and light, or a harsher pinch, it spoke of love and pure happiness of being with you.
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navybrat817 · 15 hours
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Care to share any WIP lines? 🥺
I have quite a few, nonnie, but I'll share some random WIPs.
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Dream With Me
“What if it doesn't work? You could be stuck here with me. With him. Or worse, HYDRA might get into your head and do to you what they did to me.”
Turn Off the Lights
“I couldn't help myself, hearing all those pretty noises you made. I had to see what had you making them. You're a dirty thing, aren't you? You like being fucked from behind?”
Cravings in the Night
He bit at your collar with a snarl, the beast inside angry at being denied what was rightfully his. But the taste of leather flooded his mouth as an intimate reminder of what he wanted, yet he couldn’t have. In his heart, you belonged to him. But in life, would he ever be able to walk beside you as your mate?
*****
NPT if anyone wants to share: @laurfilijames @foxgloveprincess @ghotifishreads @thornsnvultures @targaryenvampireslayer @krirebr @paperweight91 @bigtreefest and anyone who wants to play!
Love and thanks. ❤️
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rookthorne · 8 hours
Text
⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞
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The call for the cavalry would never go unanswered, but it would be remiss of your boyfriend to not tease you a little first.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✯ Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✯ 700
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✯ Fluff, crack, Bucky is a Menace
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✯ Inspired by this — @vonalyn tagged me and I saved it ages ago, then all of a sudden it came to me.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✯ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ჻჻჻ Crackfic (November), Teasing (January) — Masterlist
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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The day started off on a note you would have rather forgone. Numerous texts and calls from your boss were filled with requests that sounded outlandish, and then you learned Bucky had to run to the shop early.
One of the boys — you guessed it was Peter — had made a mistake and double booked a slot. And given Bucky was true to his business model of making sure a customer left happy and content with the services they provided as a garage, he took it upon himself to skip his morning off and work on the car. 
For the entirety of his morning off, where he was meant to be at home pestering you to stop working and come back to bed. 
You also suspected that Peter would be the laughing stock of the garage, and the target for Bucky’s snark. And you were determined to make sure he wouldn’t be so hard on the young man; for all his enthusiasm and bubbly personality, Peter was a hard worker, and you would hate for his grumpy, brutish boss to scare him off.
So, you ventured to the garage on your extended lunch break with a box of cakes on the passenger seat, happily and calmly making your way, when it all went wrong. 
An almighty bang sounded from the rear quarter of your car, and you squeaked in shock. “Shit!”
The steering wheel drifted to the side while a loud, continuous flapping sound could be heard over the harsh, shocked breaths you managed. “What the fuck?”
You pulled off the road and onto the verge, the hazards clicking quietly while you gripped the steering wheel to ground yourself. In for four, out for four, rinse and repeat, you intoned. 
A few minutes passed while you collected your thoughts, and you pushed open the driver’s door with a loud creak — only to freeze at what you found littering the crumbling asphalt. Torn and frayed rubber was scattered as far as you could see down the road, and the back of your car angled lower than the front. “Oh, for–” 
You stood from the driver’s seat, and left the door wide open while you walked towards where you thought the noise originated from to investigate. 
“Aw, damn.” The back tire was blown and shredded to pieces; the once clean chrome of the rim scratched to the high heavens. “Fuck. Fuck,” you spat, crossing your arms. “What in the– Wait.”
The gravel scuffed and rolled under your shoes as you jogged back to the open driver’s door, and you snatched your phone from the centre console. You unlocked your saving grace and pulled up the camera to take a photo — which made it look far worse than it was, you swore. 
“Bucky, Bucky,” you mumbled, sharing the photo directly to his messages. “Hurry up.”
A text box appeared after the photo successfully loaded, and your fingers flew over the keyboard to type: my tire is all blown up, can you come get me? Both the image and text were sent with a chime, and you waited for him to reply, and waited, and waited…
Your phone went off with Bucky’s text tone, and you scrambled to open the message. 
I want to blow your back out like you did that tire, damn baby.
Disbelief forced your mouth to fall slack, and you couldn’t help the shocked snort of laughter. You could picture him laughing, bowing his head while his hands worked with a rag to wipe the worst of the grease off of them. 
“Really? Really, Barnes?” You texted back a snappish: Not the time, come and help me! 
The typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then reappeared. “The fuck is he– Oh.” 
Prince Charming on the way, Honey — it was followed by a selfie. Bucky was grinning widely, his hand within the shot and throwing the camera a thumbs up. In the background, the garage tow truck was visible, and the flatbed was clear of any customer or worker’s car. 
Good, hurry up and I’ll reward my Prince.
The only reply you received was a vast array of wind emojis. 
You laughed and shook your head, content to wait for your rescuer to arrive.
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⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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buckyalpine · 5 months
Text
Give me Beefy Bucky who is shy yet obsessed with how soft and little you are compared to him. Compared to his thick, wide shoulders. His meaty, firm thighs. His huge, heavy balls. His perfectly fat, split you in half cock.
“C‘mon bunny, put ‘em both in your mouth” he whines with puppy eyes, spreading his legs more while you nearly choke trying to fit his balls in your mouth. The delicious scent of his musk makes you moan with your mouth full, his heavy sac already throbbing. “Want you to suck them both at the same time”
“S’too big” you pout, cupping and rolling him in your palm, giving your aching jaw a break. He blushes at your words, his curved throbbing cock jumping against his belly.
“You have such a cute little mouth” he whispers with a soft smile, the pink on his cheeks deepening when you shove his thighs apart again, dipping your head to take them in your mouth, “oh fuck just like that, use that tongue, suck them nice and hard, don’t care if it hurts, suck them harder bunny”
He’s a feral little (beefy) fuck, holding your head in place while rutting himself against your face. The shallow breaths you take in between with your mouth full make his tip weep and he can’t help but reach down to stroke himself, using his thumb to spread his arousal around. When he finally can’t take it, he grabs and flips you onto your back, splitting your legs open and humping himself between your folds.
“Fuck you’re so tight bunny” he shudders above you as he pushes your thighs to your chest, folding you in half, making you hold your knees apart. He pumps his cock a few times while staring at your slick hole dripping and fluttering for him.
“Look at your little pussy” his voice is between a whine and a whisper, pressing just the head of his cock into you making you moan, his tip alone stretching you. He doesn’t even fucking move, pulling it back out and pushing just the head in, his lil caught between his teeth watching his perfect pink tip disappear in and out. “How are you gonna take all of me bunny,you’re already stretched open”
He’s not even taunting you. He’s blushing so much because he can feel the way you quiver around him already and he isn’t even inside properly. “Can feel you sucking me in baby, you want more? That’s just the tip bunny, so sensitive for you, m’already making a mess”
“More Bucky, fuck me, please” you plead with him, pulling your knees back further, tightening around him even more.
“Oh God” he plunges himself into you without warning, drawing his hips back and slamming them back in making your body bounce with each thrust. You sob in pleasure, broken moans leaving your lips as he knocks the wind out of you with the powerful snap of his hips.
He looks feral, eyes fixated on where his cock disappears in and out with each thrust, your sweet mixed cream squirting out of you each time he shoves himself back in.
“Look at the mess we’re making together baby. So. Fucking. Pretty. You’re so pretty when you’re all stretched open bunny, pussy was made for my cock, you take big dick so well, you’re such a good girl, my good girl made for fat cock”
You nearly wail as he speeds up, panting and grunting, your belly bulging each time. He’s sitting back on his heels so he can watch exactly how much your pussy opens up for him, that needy button between your legs equally desperate for attention.
“Why’s are you so tight around my dick baby, can’t even last when I fuck you” he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to try and collect himself but it’s pointless. His cock starts to swell, drops of cum already starting to spurt out. He’s trying so hard to hold back but his body can’t stop moving, chasing the way your pussy chokes his length.
“M’mph-gonna cum-“ he chokes out, his movements growing sloppy and erratic, the bed banging the wall. “Gonna pump you full of cum baby, gonna make you wet the bed with how much cum drips of you”
“Cum in me Bucky” your nails dig in his shoulders, gasping when he sits back and spits onto your clit before rubbing it in circles.
“Such a cute little button making you scream so loud, you sound so beautiful like this” he gives it a pinch and you shatter around him, desperate squeals making him moan louder.
“Gonna milk my cock dry, gonna give you a thick load baby, there’s so much cum in my balls, in my dick, I can’t hold it, it’s so swollen, S-o sensitive- FUCKKK” he lets out a broken sob as he starts to throb ropes and ropes of his warm spend in you, the sheets soaking what your pussy can’t hold.
“Got the sheets all wet bunny, can feel it on my thighs-
Anyway. As always I’m sorry for this.
10K notes · View notes
thevillainswhore · 5 months
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New Tricks
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Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 9.5k
Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead
What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular. 
Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.
Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky
Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne
Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗
These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️
New Tricks Masterlist
I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹
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Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door. 
“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time,  when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.  
Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck. 
The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again. 
Excellent, you inwardly sigh.
“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting  internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level.  “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.” 
Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck.  Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–
“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows. 
Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”
His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?” 
No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind. 
“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.” 
The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes. 
“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.” 
You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation. 
Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic. 
“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?” 
Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–” 
You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.
Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”
Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning. 
“What the shit–“ 
The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?” 
In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!” 
Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.” 
The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”
“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”
“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.  
The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all. 
And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?” 
Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”
“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids. 
“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”
Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed. 
“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.” 
It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone. 
You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?” 
You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“
“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over. 
Had he been listening that whole time? 
Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky  may have made was a burden you did not want to bear,  and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”
Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.” 
The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”
“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”
His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.  
With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.  
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“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”
The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”
“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”
Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump. 
You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose.  “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”
With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off. 
Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips. 
Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door. 
With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”
Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.  
Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”
He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”
You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.  
“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?” 
The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”
You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.” 
Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf. 
The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?” 
“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”
You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”
“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom. 
Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”
“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you. 
A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.  
The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence. 
Though, it is short lived. 
Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand. 
A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works. 
“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off. 
You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before… 
“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”
A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious. 
His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you. 
“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”
The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats. 
Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?” 
You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”
The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet. 
Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.
“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”
“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.  
Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company. 
This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence. 
Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone. 
“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content. 
“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”
“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets. 
“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.
The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.
“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.
Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.  
That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself. 
“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?” 
You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV. 
“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.” 
The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.” 
Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.” 
Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”
“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.” 
You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”
Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it. 
Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”  
Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”
“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!” 
He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?” 
“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.  
“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”
His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”
Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night. 
There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus. 
Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”  
Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing. 
“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”
“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”
“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”
A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”
“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.” 
Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” 
His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face. 
Okay, you think privately, so what? 
Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt. 
If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”
“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”
Now that catches you off guard. 
Bucky… is a virgin? 
Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match. 
Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression. 
“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”
No other words come to mind. 
When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts. 
You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully. 
The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him. 
Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession. 
It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands,  and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty. 
From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer. 
Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past.  And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket. 
What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?
To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs. 
Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees. 
“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.  
The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical. 
You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”
“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”
Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.” 
“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting. 
You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”
He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“
“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”
“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.
“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”
You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.
“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”
“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through. 
Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek. 
This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance. 
You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.
He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”
“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap. 
That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth. 
There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves. 
Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face. 
“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.
There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek. 
“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.
Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”
The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes. 
Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.  
“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session. 
Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.
“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.  
You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.
“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension. 
A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time. 
Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.  
The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close. 
But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard. 
The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly. 
Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before. 
You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another. 
It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you. 
And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–” 
To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.  
Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries. 
You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.
The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss. 
You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move. 
Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous. 
It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”
Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”
Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”
Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.
“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.” 
You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin. 
The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet. 
The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt  — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.
Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.  
“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”
“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”
You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”
The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn. 
“Wha– Fuck!”
You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it. 
The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.
Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release. 
You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the  loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle. 
Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.
Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck. 
You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently. 
“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”
Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him. 
You can’t have that, though. 
Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”
Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go. 
It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in. 
You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?” 
Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.” 
“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.  
You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.” 
The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”
Something snaps within him. 
The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure. 
To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”
“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”
A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop. 
“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”
“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!” 
“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed. 
“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”
The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.
“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss. 
“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”
You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat. 
The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”
Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness. 
After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”
“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material. 
Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”
“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.
The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”
Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”
“But–” Bucky tries. 
“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”
His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”
“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”
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The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces. 
It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”
You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands. 
And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair. 
You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.
“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.” 
You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only– 
“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala. 
“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”
But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”
“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?” 
That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes. 
You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”
Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away. 
With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”
The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky. 
“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”
“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”
You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”
The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall.  “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”
A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive. 
“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.” 
That meant only one person was responsible. 
Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.  
Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night. 
I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake. 
Love ya squirt, 
Your big bro.
“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.
P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x 
Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again. 
“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”
Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain. 
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Part Two, Part Three
5K notes · View notes
espinosaurusrexex · 2 months
Text
Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers
CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU
read Steve's story here
summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...
a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)
word count: 16.4k 😬
warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!
゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*・゚
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"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket. 
Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.
Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster. 
It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes. 
"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."
Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.
"Dinner is booked.”
“You’re really doing it huh?"
“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.
The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other. 
Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"
Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."
Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."
"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."
Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him. 
“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side. 
“Never?”
Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”
“Tomorrow night?"
"Ironbar."
Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."
Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.
❁ ❁ ❁
The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk. 
Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”
“No...”
“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them. 
Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.” 
“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold. 
“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room. 
“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.” 
“Now that’s bullshit.”
“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”
Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that. 
“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do. 
“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”
Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?” 
Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. 
Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job. 
“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude. 
“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”
And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision. 
What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them. 
Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now. 
Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year. 
There was just one problem. 
He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes. 
Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist. 
So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again. 
The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event. 
Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem. 
Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.
Well, that had to change now. 
Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors. 
“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”
Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail. 
“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”
“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”
Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor. 
“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well. 
“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.  
Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”
Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought. 
“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”
“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”
“Alright, Sir.”
“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye. 
“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant. 
Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.
❁ ❁ ❁
The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them. 
The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in. 
He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water. 
“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”
He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward. 
“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”
“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.
“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”
“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless. 
“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”
“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.
“Pardon me?”
You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”
“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”
“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”
“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.
“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours. 
He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.” 
“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to. 
“Wait you’re working for SPS?” 
“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body. 
Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again. 
“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden. 
You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating. 
“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind. 
“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile. 
Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you. 
“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready. 
“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.  
Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys. 
“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it. 
“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”
“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”
Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic. 
It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future. 
Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them. 
Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.
“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.
“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder. 
“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.
❁ ❁ ❁
The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world. 
To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea. 
“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?
Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.
Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen. 
“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.” 
Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.” 
Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office. 
She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”
“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant. 
Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary. 
“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”
He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”
“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”
Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”
“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”
Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.” 
And so you did. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen. 
It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh. 
‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’ 
Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat. 
You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened. 
There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.
“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside. 
Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet. 
“I can’t go in there.”
“Why not?”
He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”
“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly. 
“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath. 
“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”
Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that. 
“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”
“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.” 
Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal. 
Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation. 
“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato. 
“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”
Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been. 
Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer. 
After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises. 
There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.
On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.
He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”
You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door. 
Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain. 
“He’s very admirable for that.” 
You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”
The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”
“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”
The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional. 
“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face. 
“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“
“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep. 
“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”
You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now. 
“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head. 
“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”
“Here? Alone?”
“Yes.” 
Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“
“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”
“Doll...”
“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.” 
Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside. 
You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar. 
“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”
The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.
“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”
“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous. 
“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.
“How do you know?”
You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought. 
“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”
He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop. 
“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled. 
“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.
❁ ❁ ❁
It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home. 
It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.
So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right. 
In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.  
A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod. 
“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.
“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table. 
“That bad, huh?”
His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown. 
“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”
Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.” 
“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.
He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”
Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”
Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”
“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 
“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day. 
A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.
About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched. 
“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”
The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?
And honestly? You didn’t know. 
“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”
“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?” 
Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known. 
By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand. 
The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.
You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower. 
“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home. 
“How?”
“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes. 
Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door. 
“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...” 
You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest. 
Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.
After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek. 
When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself. 
“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”
Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”
❁ ❁ ❁
To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him. 
You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen. 
It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug. 
Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer. 
“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.
“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed. 
“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”
Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”
“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture. 
Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”
“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.
And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away. 
Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking. 
Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body. 
“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”
“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all. 
“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly. 
“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”
A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”
Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it. 
Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”
You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless. 
You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.  
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day. 
But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You. 
“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence. 
“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair. 
Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided. 
A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”
He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him. 
Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you. 
That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him. 
It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you. 
Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day. 
“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve. 
“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”
“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”
Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us. 
“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind. 
He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture. 
“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.
“Always.”
“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.
Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”
“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”
How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve. 
“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face. 
“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.
“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”
“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed. 
They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”
“What?” He faced him again. 
“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”
“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected. 
“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”
Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered. 
He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you. 
With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same. 
❁ ❁ ❁
There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again. 
Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew. 
“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.  
“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”
“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”
“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent. 
“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.” 
“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”
Oh, hell no.
“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”
“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”
A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”
“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”
“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”
Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer. 
“Name one.”
“Me.”
The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?” 
Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?
Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”
Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”
He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again. 
“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”
Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.
❁ ❁ ❁
“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet. 
“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight. 
“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.
“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head. 
“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”
About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile. 
“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla. 
“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat. 
“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”
You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all. 
“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”
“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop. 
“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?” 
“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”
You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”
“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name. 
“How did you know?”
His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”
“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile. 
"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.
“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”
Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”
“And why is that?”
“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”
Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”
Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”
You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.
You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted. 
“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.
❁ ❁ ❁
“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”
“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth. 
“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again. 
Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings. 
“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!
Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions. 
It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.
“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”
“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”
“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”
“No.”
Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire. 
“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time. 
Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future. 
He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed. 
“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky. 
“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out. 
“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away. 
Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them. 
Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”
“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them. 
“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off. 
“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”
His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”
What the actual fuck?
“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now. 
“Look at you growing all protective.”
“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth. 
A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it. 
“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”
And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind. 
❁ ❁ ❁
You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome. 
“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”
“What?”
“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.
“Is... is this about the other day?”
Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”
“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.
“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”
There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.
“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.
“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”
Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it. 
Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city? 
But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”
A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement. 
“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose. 
He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours. 
Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.
Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer. 
You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole.��
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint. 
Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect. 
“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him. 
You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating. 
But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans. 
“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath. 
In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear. 
If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you. 
Why?
Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time. 
So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”
“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you. 
“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”
“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.
Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”
“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips. 
After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern. 
“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise. 
“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”
“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”
And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.
He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him. 
“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”
You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them. 
“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.
You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers. 
“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”
You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest. 
He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy. 
“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.
“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”
“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up. 
“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap. 
“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”
“Why?”
“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it. 
“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.” 
“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”
“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.
You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip. 
He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”
“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal. 
Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then. 
You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit. 
Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult. 
It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you. 
Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy. 
“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”
“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm. 
“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head. 
“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”
“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance. 
He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back. 
“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.
“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.” 
Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his. 
The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs. 
His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer. 
This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth. 
He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of. 
“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy. 
You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”
Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”
You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:
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Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞
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(18+) fem!reader
bucky barnes is the kind of guy to fuck up into you during cowgirl, not because he's impatient, but because he simply wants to feel more of you.
just him lying back down on the mattress, you straddling his crotch, cock snuggly wedged into you - his hands digging into the plush of your thighs. he'd have to restrain himself, the squish of your skin pooling around his fingers being the main distraction. he'd look up at you as you slowly wind over him, brows knitted, eyes closed, lips bitten, tits swaying - the lewdest of images as you gently bounce. 
your hands placed firmly on his stomach isn't enough. he wants to feel you closer - he wants your chest sandwiched against his, wants his lips on yours. his cock inside of you, not enough to satiate the need.
he'd trail his hands up you higher, gliding up your tummy, over your tits, right up to your throat. he wouldn't squeeze, no. just lightly pulling you down to him, silently guiding you to hover over him. your weight anchored on your hands either side of him.
bucky would stabilise you, keeping you balanced - one hand on the curve of your hip, the other along your jaw, lips hungrily working over yours. he'd swallow your gentle moans, your soft, sweet whines vibrating against his tongue.
he'd bend at the knee and testingly nudge up into you, cock bumping into your pussy so nicely. the new angle ripping the most bliss-filled cry from the pits of your stomach. he'd smile against your lips, doing it again. and again. just to hear that same sultry noise from you. 
he would part from your lips, trailing kisses along your collarbone until he reaches your tits, leaving a line of soft, wet suckles behind. he'd wrap his lips around your perk nipples, tongue leisurely flicking over the bundle of sensitive nerves. dick stroking up into you unrushed.
his hands would leave the placement around your mid back, instead moving downwards - one metal, one fleshed hand slowly dragging over your skin. bucky's hands would rest on the dips of your waist, guiding you over his cock with very little manoeuvring, gently pushing your hips down onto him. the slow roll of his hips meeting you in the middle.
lips back on yours, muffling loving words into your skin. telling you that you're his sweet, special girl.
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