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#bucky x black!reader
lil-stark · 4 months ago
𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 | ʙ.ʙᴀʀɴᴇs
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─── ・ ⁛✦ ⋆☽⋆ ✦⁛ ・ ───
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: you begin to realise bucky is the person you want to be with.
a/n: hey pretty people, smashed another crazy week, another fic is published, enjoy! i listened to the 'save your tears' remix with ari and i kinda just had to write something, anyway love y'all sm as always, stay safe <3, replies + feedback very much appreciated :)) like and reblog pls support ya sexy writers hehe <3 also had to reupload cause tumblr not working adjsajd
word count: 1.8K
warnings: first angst sheesh heheh, mostly angst, mentions of breaking up, (there's a cute,happy ending dw) 🤍 not proof read rippp sorry y'all <3
masterlist hehe <3
─── ・ ⁛✦ ⋆☽⋆ ✦⁛ ・ ───
Hindsight is always 20/20.
It's jarring how you can become complete strangers after learning and cherishing the intricacies of one another, making memories to last a fucking lifetime. First comes the overthinking then comes the flirtation with 'what ifs'. Reflections, resentment. Anger. Regret.
There you were.
Four months of pure silence. No note, message, text, call. Nada. There once was a time Bucky and you couldn't take your hands of eachother, and now it hurts to even look at his name as you dart through your contacts. You miss him. Days wrapped up in bedsheets, the sunlight dancing on your morning faces as you whisper 'I love yous', huddled together as you begin a new day. The way he made you laugh, how admired he made you feel, his touch, the pleasure, the intimacy, the pain, all of it.
The villain here was fear. Fear of losing him, to whatever there was out there. Love can't exist without fear, right? Thoughts of 'what ifs' always screw things up. What if something happens to him? What if Sam can't reach him on time? What if he does something stupid and get's himself killed? He needed to go, you begged him to stay, a war of words, exchanged with bursts of anger, frustration and fear. Now look at you two.
There you were.
Lost in the the abyss of a crowd, there you were. His girl.
Pretty little thing, twirling in an innocent, satin pink dress he bought you a forever ago, a time when he could still hold you in his arms. Purple, red and blue lights scattered across the room, bouncing off the walls as it illuminated the figure of your body, glorifying it's heavenly crevices and peaks he held and worshipped endlessly on nights known only to the both of you. Your luscious hair swished past your golden shoulders as you moved your hips to the beat of the obnoxiously loud song. The beads of sweat that dotted across your arms, chest and face glistened, now smudging your perfect liner. A cold sharpness ever so present in your stare. It could bring him to his knees.
And there he was.
Across the room standing with his back towards the bar, dressed in all black, a pained expression painted over his features. His eyes, dark and deep, heavy with guilt scanned over the room, hair swept to the side just the way you liked it. Why the fuck was he even here? Thoughts of him being yours once again fill your head, adding cloudiness to your sobriety, or what was left of it at least. Maybe it was regret? Who were you to tell? It wasn't like you saw those same eyes when he told you he loved you all those years ago. It wasn't as if you wanted to get married, have a couple kids and call it a lifetime together. No way. Of all the clubs in 6th Avenue, why here and most importantly, why now? Just to see a version of you so lost, numb and cold. Of course you are, he was your fire after all.
"Fuck, you've got to be kidding me," you hiss, as his stares meets yours from across the room, the party lights help you rediscover his steel blue. Your senses overwhelmed from the air of old melancholy and bittersweet memories that blur you, you feel a tear dropping from your water brimmed eyes.
Eventually, evenings grew colder, nights lonelier too, worst of all your coffee didn't even taste the same anymore. Bucky and you sing the same song, just a different verse, the both of you trying to out run whatever crap left you hollow and shaken. Truth is the both of you were scared of allowing yourselves to fall in love. Allowing yourselves to be happy, because a part of you thought you couldn't or didn't deserve it. Then, all of a sudden you cross paths, he knows you and you him. You become the reason he wakes up in the morning, his motive to keep fighting for all the good things in life. Breakfast in bed. Forehead kisses. Coffee and cinnamon buns. He couldn't see himself having that life with anyone, but you. Now, here he was pacing towards you, out of all the clubs in New York. Here he was.
What a sight for sore eyes.
"What's going on James?" a trembled whisper leaving your cold lips.
He worshipped every inch of you. The same eyes that showed him the stars, now blossomed beads of tears, all bloodshot.
"I think we should let go."
You almost didn't even hear what he said.
"It's not right anymore, I can't keep dragging you along with me everytime I get hurt or when things get bad. It's not fair on you, peaches," He grabbed your palm softly, but the nickname stung. You couldn't hear him, a soft ringing began in your head numbing you from his words.
You couldn't hold in the sob that left you as you clung onto his sweatshirt, the dark grey one you bought him when you went shopping a while back. His voice and breath, quivering too, as you held onto to him for what felt like the last time.
"James, please don't do this to me. After everything that happened, please, don't. You're not him anymore. You're not him, you can't hurt anyone else or me ,James. Ayo was always there, she told us."
Your dark iris' meeting his as you searched for whatever answer you could find. His blue meeting yours, you were always the answer to his questions. He knew, you knew. But here you are trying to decipher him.
"No, I just I-, I need time. I need to just try and figure this out, alone, okay? I've hurt you enough already, and I can't help but think you deserve better. More. More than what I can give you. It's not fair that I do this to you everytime. I come home, I'm a mess, you make me better, it's killing you, I know it."
Your vision is clouded, so many words yet they go in one ear and out the other.
"James, I- ," you hiccup between tears, your tone now begging," I don't understand, we're so happy together, we wanted to settle down and, I love you so much, why can't we just figure this out like we did in the past?"
His head rests on yours as you huddle closer to him, a juxtaposition of words and actions. Bucky's eyes burn as he tries to fight the tears, as his eyes catch you two in a photoframe on the wall. Bright smiles at the Wilson family barbeque, you in that pink satin dress he loved, you both in the same position, his head on yours. He saw joy in himself for the first time when he was with you. Your sobs shake him out of his walk down memory lane.
"I want you to be happy Peaches, hey, look at me, I got ya', You deserve everything in the world, you hear me? You deserve all the happiness in the world, you deserve someone so much more than me. I need you to be happy, okay? I don't have a choice." Your breath now sharp, you were falling apart in his arms.
"Bucky, when I," your voice shaking as you look into his deep, glassy blue eyes," When I picture myself happy, it's always with you."
He left. All the pictures eventually started fading off the walls, but his favourite stayed. Every part of you was his, and him yours.
You change your direction the moment you see him, your satin dress slipping easily through the crowd, as you head to the patio of the bar. Finally some peace and quiet. Months trying to forget him, but this seems like some stupid, cosmic joke now that he's in the same building as you, let alone, room. You hear a light mechanical whir of his vibranium arm, letting you know of his presence.
"How have you been?"
Fuck, I miss you, you scream in your head.
" What do you want, Barnes?" you sharply exhale, staring out over the the city lights on the deck. You swallow the tears that were begging to fall out. No more. You can save them for somebody else. You turn around, hair swishing in the wind, and it never fails to take his breath away. That same pink dress. He told you he loved you that day.
You had no idea what was going on in his head. Why was he here? How did he find you?
"We need to talk." You scoff, rolling your eyes at the the comment.
"About what? You walked out on everything we had, you can't decide to come back in when you feel like it." You face him, your eyeliner smudged, sweat dotting your forehead, you're a mess. But you still are perfect to him.
"I can't stop thinking about you and I don't want to run away anymore. The past months, whatever I tried to figure out, I only found out one thing," the air slowly building with anticipation, to hear what he says.
He paces forward to join you, his arms slowly sneaking behind you as you place your palms on his chest.
"You're my everything. I want to fix this, I need to," he pauses.
"I was so fucking lost, peaches, I'm learning how to fix myself. Heal and recover even now. Just know, I'll be with you, always and forever, until the moment you ever stop needing me. But I'm tired of running away. From myself, you. Us." A silence consumed you two, but it was peaceful. A soft wind blowing through your hair as you hold onto eachother.
"I love you Bucky. I always will, even after everything. We can take this slow, but I can't lose you, not again." your glassy eyes meeting his, a shake ever so present in your voice, as you tug on his shirt to pull him closer.
He grabs your jaw and pulls your lips towards his, you melt as you make contact, missing the way he felt. You wrap your arms around his neck, his vibranium arm running over the satin on your back as he held you close. Your fingers delicately run through his dark hair, the kiss reuiniting and reigniting a fire in you both.
"I love you too, peaches." He smiled, running his fingers through your soft hair.
"We'll be ok , James." you whisper into his embrace.
So here he was. All yours again.
my peeps <33: @jacquessouvenier@2manytabsopen @aynanasstuff @an-adventureland @jurassicbarnes@bitchassbucky @henrythickcavill @spiderrpcrker @wakandabiitch2 @superwholockian93 @toomanyfandomsshreya @blueberrynonnie @imcompletelyok @ruminationsofaraven @acrabbybish @daddyissuesmademe @darkacademic2 @thatweirdesichick @buckyandhisplums40 @babyboibucky @itsapeterthing @nyptagypta @grrnasa @madbaddic7ed @samwilsons-pillowpecs @scarlxt-witchxs @milea @peterssweetpea @caplanbuckybarnes @xetherealbeautyx @queensgirl718 @mostly-marvel-musings
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starksdaughter-3000 · 21 days ago
~Her Surprise~
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*Not my GIF*
Stucky x Little!f!Reader
Warnings~Smut f/m, 18+ ONLY, ddlg, oral/fem reciving,
Summary~Steve thinks you've been a good girl so he gives you a reward...
A/N~ Hi again this is my first titled story tehe. But enjoy this while I brainstorm some more. I have a lot of drafts btw.🙃
You and Steve are home alone missing Bucky, he had to go on a last minute mission with Sam but he said they would be back in about a month or two. That still didn't stop you from trying to keep him here with you and Steve.
"Oh bunny." He cooed. "I'll be back I promise. Be a good girl for Stevie. You won't even notice I'm gone." He said as you cried out and clung to his leg like a koala.
"Pl-please Dada!You can't leave me! Nooo!" Steve shushed you as he pried you off of Bucky's leg. When Steve finally got you unatached from his leg you cried into Steve's shoulder and hid your face away as Bucky picked up his bags and went to the door as Steve followed.
The door opened and Sam appeared. "Aye Buck we gotta get going." Bucky sighs. “I love you both.” He gives Steve a kiss on the cheek and on your forehead. You sniffle. “Bye bye Dada.” He smiles and walks out the door shutting it after he’s out.
2 weeks later~
After Bucky left that day it didn’t take you that long to get over it, Steve assured you he would return and you believed him. You have been Steve’s best girl like you always are but you have been extra good these past weeks.
Eating every last bit of your food. No trouble at nap time. Cleaning after playing with your toys. Overall an absolute angel. Steve has been pleased with you so he wants to give you a treat for being so good.
At the moment Steve is fixing you a sandwich so he decides to bring it up.
“Hey doll.” You look up from your Barbie coloring book and ‘hm’ “Yes Daddy?” He turns towards the fridge to get the cheese. “You have been such a good girl, I’m so proud of you so after you finish lunch I will give you your gift!” Your face lights up at the word ‘gift’. You gasp. “A gift! Tank you swo much! Luv ya Daddy!l”
After Y/n finished her and her Daddy went upstairs together holding hands. When they got to the room he told her to lay down. “Daddy please don’t tickle me!” She told him as he put his knee into the mattress making the bed dip.
Don’t worry sweetheart I have something better than that.” He smirked. He laid down on his stomach rubbing your thighs as he pried them open. “Relax doll. I got you.” After he said that he felt you relax your tense muscles. “Good girl, you’ve been such a good girl for me while Bucky is away. I’m sure he’ll be proud of you when he comes back.” You smile at the mention of Bucky. As Steve keeps praising you he slides your skirt down your legs giving you kisses all the way.
He teases your special button through your underwear with his finger, that makes you whimper and pushing your hips up to get more friction. “Ah ah, be patient doll you’ll get your reward soon.” With that he lightly pushes your hips back down to the mattress.
He slides his hand up your body to reach its destination at the bottom of your pink t-shirt with a small teddy bear in the middle and pulls it up your chest to expose your breast. Steve roll your nipple between two of his fingers slowly and teasingly. You whine. “Dada please give me more!” He stops and that makes you look at him confused. “You don’t run anything doll, I do and I’m gonna do whatever I want to your body. So either you shut up or I put the gag on you. You chose.” He looks for your answer and you snap your mouth shut. He smirks. “That’s what I thought.”
A few minutes more of him teasing and your quiet whimpers still afraid if you make to much noise he’ll put the gag on you. Until finally he pulls aside your panties and takes the first lick to your aching core, he wanted to hear your screams for him to stop now.
Surprised at how fast he got into it, you shrieked. “Dada!” That’s what he likes to hear. He looks up to see your head tilted back hands grabbing at anything that’s in your reach.
He focuses back down to the task at hand. Licking faster at your clit. Fingers teasing your entrance before sliding inside of you.
You gasp at the wonderful feeling. Moaning even louder as Steve sucks your clit into his mouth. He nipped at your button and moved his other hand to massage you nipples. That pushed you over the edge.
“Dada! Ahh-mmh please!” Even after your orgasm he still kept going removing his fingers from your entrance, replacing them with his tongue.
“N-no more! Too much! O-ohhh!” He pulled away and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “You did so well sweetheart. Now it’s time for you real surprise.” Steve whispers lowly.
Bucky smiles while leaning on the door frame wondering when they would notice him. But what he didn’t know was that Steve already knew he was there. Steve sits up to take off his clothes you look past him to see something in the corner of the room to see your other Daddy looking at you with a smirk on his face. You blush and look away.
“Cmon Buck don’t be a stranger, help me give our girl her surprise.”
Bucky chuckles making his way to the bed while stripping.
edit- i’m such a dummy i forgot to tag people whoops
@sunaswifi @dimples1026 @pinkflamingo2000 @peachykeen3502 @lovelyxjanett@cybersry @keepingitlokiii @aleemendoza2425-blog @xxmizzmariexx
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golden-ariess · a month ago
Mistakes of the Heart
Paring: Soft!Bucky
Warning: Cheesy sweetness. You might get sick.
A/N: I felt like being sappy. Something sweet before I post more Stripper!Bucky. I'm working on rewriting a couple of old fics. Here's one of the first for Bucky. Hope y'all enjoy 💛
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Even as the rain hit, the ground sunk into the earth, causing a grey overcast making the day seem like it had no true beginning. Somehow, this moment was perfect.
His life was now permanently stained in hues of color he'd never seen before you.
At first, he was in denial in any way he could be. How he was deserving of love like this was beyond him. Someone like him floated through life alone. His words were always too sharp, prepared to cut down anyone before they spoke. His emotions were already barricaded behind a concrete wall. He let someone in once and it nearly cost him his life. Bucky was prepared not to make that mistake again.
He considered love a foolish game of the heart. Life was cold. The world would chew most people up and spit them back out before you knew it. He was a victim of it once.
But you happened. And the mistakes of the heart didn't feel like one this time. He didn't hide from you. For the first time in his life he was seen. Every side of himself from every low he went through and high he felt he allowed you to see him for who he was.
"You're starting. Stop." You pulled the covers up over your head. "I haven't even washed my face." You whined. Even after being together for two years you never understood how Bucky was so chipper in the morning.
Bucky could only chuckle at your response. He attempted to pry the blanket from your grasp. "Let me look at you. I want to see my favorite person."
"Your favorite person still has sleep in their eye. Not gonna happen."
Bucky hovered over your body, trying to pry the soft duvet from your grip once more.
"You're so weird." You poked three fourths of your head up from the blankets. "Are you happy now?"
"It's only weird if you let it be." He cooed. He was so sickeningly sweet. And if the cure for it ever presented itself, you'd be the first to throw it out.
"And to answer your question. Yes, I'm happy now." He snickered. Bucky was content watching you lay there. The way the soft rays danced across your skin caused the deep tone of your complexion to shimmer even more.
"What can I do to make you happy, doll?"
You pondered his question for a moment, even though you had an answer as soon as you noticed he wasn't next to you.
"Come, wrap your warm body around me and snuggle my ass. It's too early." One of your arms ventured out from the covers, waiting for Bucky to take it.
"You don't have to tell me twice."
"Is this better?" He knew the answer to your question. He just enjoyed hearing you needed him.
You moaned in response. "Perfect baby." This is how early mornings were supposed to be. Bucky wrapped around you, sharing warmth. Your worlds quiet just for a moment
Thank you for reading 💛 all comments are appreciated.
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aquariusbarnes · 21 days ago
Look at me
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Bucky Barnes x Reader
summary: Bucky's been dying to let you know about his feelings, but he's not so sure about how you may feel.
warnings: curse words.
notes: expect feelings I guess. this is totally mine, please don't repost, translate, copy or any variant.
One thing is for certain: Bucky was smitten, utterly enamored by your mere presence. The way that his chest was constantly with this tight feeling whenever you were around, or the fluttering in his belly whenever he got to make eye contact with you, even if it was just a coincidence and you weren't really looking at him. Ever since being free of HYDRA, (hell, and other 70+ years where he hadn't had the chance to feel this way), you were the first person he truly felt was capable of keeping him on the edge of his seat constantly. He had made his own attempts to hide them though, to hide his affections for you, and so far it has been a disaster. Steve seemed to be the only one who wasn't aware of the way Bucky behaved around you.
"Wait, really?", Steve said to him on a saturday evening by the lake, his brows furrowed and looking completely confused.
"Old men truly are the worst", Nat had murmured as she pinched her nose bridge and closed her eyes. Obviously, Natasha had been the first one to decipher the strange behavior Bucky was having around you, and for others to not see it at this point was blatantly ridiculous.
Sam followed Natasha, then Clint, Tony, Rhodey, Wanda and Vision, and even that weird tiny-big man who was not really living at the Compound. Bucky really thought he was being subtle: having the redhead to know was something he could live with. Natasha was capable of knowing things even before anyone could actually experience them. But the rest of the team? Already? To say Bucky was mortified at first was an understatement. He was already having a hard time trying to not let his voice waver whenever you asked him something, but it all came down to the (relieving?) conclusion that it didn't matter if they knew, because you, by no means, seemed to be aware of it.
That, or you didn't know how to spare his feelings and decided to just play dumb around the brunet.
Ever since you joined the team, you were remarkably a highly skilled asset. You started for the police station, just to have a few years later the title of Lieutenant and the praise of very important people around the NYPD and beyond. Nick Fury included. Your level of sharpness and professionalism was unparalleled, you were remarkably someone to be looked upon, having also served at the most important Intelligence Agency of your home country before you decided to settle in New York. You were ruthless and perseverant, yet your current job at the NYPD wasn't exactly what anyone would deem fitting for you. Nick Fury, for instance, thought you could do better, so he didn't doubt to recruit you to the Avengers, giving you time to settle in the new ambiance by giving you a few months of training. You didn't even get to finish the training months along with the rest of the SHIELD agents because you managed to outgrow them. You were ready for the team, and the team no doubt was more than eager to fight alongside you.
You have adapted well, you fighted fiercely and worked well both individually and paired. Every agent walking in the Compound knew who you were within your first weeks and you were a highly respected figure. It didn't help anyone's case the fact that what you had as ruthless you also had it as cold.
And that, even if at the beginning was kind of mysterious and oh-so-sexy to Bucky, was starting to drive him mad.
You were a rock. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Your voice tone never seemed to doubt anything that you could say. You were precise, only speaking when it was inevitable, but most of the time you decided to keep things as cool as ice could be. It didn't help that you also didn't let any emotion touch your surface. Always so formal and calculating. Funnily enough, your distant and professional attitude was playing a big number on Bucky. Fuck you, he would curse your name in his head as he unconciously pouted watching you from across the room to something on the window of the common room, fuck you and your dreamy eyes, and your soft-looking lips, and your nice hands and that round ass too. Your ass is really nice though... Bucky, focus. He wasn't going to fall for someone that seemed uninterested in him. He should have dignity, he would scowl himself as he absentmindedly would prepare your tea, just how you like it, because he is that weak.
That was the root problem. He wasn't sure if you really were uninterested in him. People these days and in the 40s would call it mixed signals.
You see, it would be easier to just curse you and kick you out (mentally, of course) of his life if at least you were an asshole to him. But the thing is that you weren't, and that plus the fact that you didn't seem to react to his advances were leaving him in a total nowhere with you. You were by no means affectionate or a bubbly friendly type to Bucky, but in his defense you were not like that at all.
"Sergeant Barnes", you greeted him one day, some months after you were officially working with the Avengers.
"Please", he would call your first name and throw an awkward smile, attempting to make small talk with you, "just call me Bucky".
You have looked at him as he had grown two heads. It was obvious to him that you had an extensive history of not-so-cute things to see, adding the fact that you seemed comfortable with the bare minimum interactions, but to say he wasn't feeling even an itty-bitty nervous was a lie. Some part of him understood your need to put walls around you, eerily remembering him of his first time as a civilian in Romania where he would only talk to the plum vendor in his most robotic voice just to get out of there fast and mind his business. Bucky decided to let it go at first as it was clear you weren't into it.
But you weren't always like that. Not to him. You still weren't Suzy Sunshine but you would do little, certain things that would leave him reeling on the feeling. He had his reasons, as dumb as they sounded, to think he was being lead on these mixed signals.
Once, for example, you let him sit beside you. Believe it or not, it was a really important thing that Bucky could not ever let go. You were extremely careful with your surroundings and who you let close in proximity to you, one would think it was a thing just reserved for the field, but no. You were just that careful and untrusting. If Bucky had already assessed a room one minute after stepping in, you were probably done doing that by the time he had finished. Every one of your touches were just as you, precise and calculated. It wasn't weird for the team to be gathered around the kitchen sitting and you being the only one standing, just to not sit with someone.
"Do I have lice or something?", Tony had asked you on one of those occasions. Luckily, you were already at the point where you knew he was joking from left to right, yet you didn't doubt to clear his mind as the rest of the team indulged in the food. Bucky had been munching like a chubby squirrel, his eyes throwing subtle questioning looks at you, eager to hear you say something. Anything.
"I'm not really comfortable being so close, Mr. Stark", you curtly said, your gaze fixing on Tony, and then on his shawarma, and then back to him. It was still funny hearing you talk like that when you were wearing your pajamas, but you were the one who decided to not go by first name basis. "I have to keep an eye on the rest of the room. I hope you understand and don't take it as an offense"
"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it, Game of Thrones", Tony rolled his eyes. Your attitude really could be off putting by times, yet the team would still cherish their time with you.
So, when you actually did let Bucky sit next to you, let's just say he wasn't the only one who noticed.
It had been a debriefing. You usually preferred to sit on the end of the table, that way you could have eyes on everything. The mission was an exhausting three day op in Croatia where you went along with Sam and Bucky in order to gather intel. To say you guys were exhausted after returning was an understatement, and that was what Bucky used to grasp whenever that moment happened.
You were probably so tired, he still remembers your sweaty forehead and the way you licked your lips, the faint sound of the AC as background noise in the pristine room. Bucky had been first to enter the conference room to meet Fury, Sam following and opting to sit across from him. And then you came in, and from all eight seats availables to watch the room in the comfort of your formal distance, you decided to sit next to Bucky.
The way Sam had raised his eyebrows was forever ingrained in his mind.
Bucky said nothing to you, of course. What could he possibly have said in order to defend his rapidly increasing itch? Yeah, you sat next to me on a debriefing after you made it very clear you were willing to throw hands and since that day I jerk off to that moment.
To Sam, however, that moment did set a before and an after.
"Dude, I think...", Sam had started that night, finally alone with Bucky, his tone sounding so doubtful, his frown so light. He didn't even know what to conclude from his friend. "I can't tell you what's going on that head, you know that neither of us know"
"I know", Bucky conceded in defeat.
"However, though, I'd tell you to not give up", Sam shrugged before patting Bucky's shoulder.
The moments that were to come were still as cryptic as that one. Better than the first months, yes, but Bucky was only human to the way you navigated around him. Did you like him as much as he liked you? Could he shoot his shot with you? What words of the thesaurus would you use to reject him if things don't go well?
To be honest, that moment really set a before and an after. You wouldn't always sit with Bucky, but his heart always jumped whenever you did, and you conceded him eventually to small talks. Small talks escalated to something alike, but more deeper than the usual small talks, it was kind of blurry to him. At some point you even accepted to call him anything else but Sergeant Barnes: you decided to call him James instead and he was willing to work with that. He would see you everyday and you would throw knowing glances in his way. You would chat from time to time about his life, you would accept to talk a bit about yours, but you seemed to indulge asking him about what he remembered, who his family was, and more details about his life.
The situation has been going so good between you despite your latent attitude, he couldn't let himself be kept in the dark anymore. It didn't matter how flustered you made him feel, he had to do something before it was eating him alive.
Bucky felt this inexplicably connection with you even if you didn't seem aware of that, you had to say something at some point. But you didn't. You always kept a soft smile in your face whenever he was talking to you, playing with a ring you always carried, telling him to go on in every of his antics, yet you didn't say anything else to address the giant elephant in the room, and Bucky would go and repeat the pattern every day. In those days it seemed as if you and him were the only ones in Earth, not even a needle dropping could be heard.
He didn't even remember how time had gotten him so fast. Weeks with you became months, months became years, and soon year one became year three and he still hadn't said a thing. The years with you around felt like they were passing on a heartbeat, so it was only fair when he decided that he wouldn't stand another single day with his feelings unconfessed. Just the thought of you maybe reciprocating him, feeling the way he does, makes him all sweaty and in need of someone to help him walk.
This is it, Bucky. This is the moment you've been waiting for. He would gulp loudly as he watched you, your form sitting tranquil on the couch, eyeing the TV as you pressed the buttons of the remote. Bucky sighs and his heart skips a beat. To him, you had never looked more beautiful and radiant as today, and he has seen you plenty of times on plenty of occasions. You look so innocent as you change channels as if you couldn't kill a man with just your two thumbs, your cute pink tongue poking through your lips in concentration. Bucky calls your name, and it's then when he decides to stand up and go to you. Your gaze immediately falls on him as he gets closer, and you let yourself sigh in his presence as you scoot aside to let him sit with you on the couch.
God, he really hopes he doesn't mess this up.
"What is it?", your voice is not that firm and sharp this time. The blue-eyed man feels himself getting tender. He takes a deep breath, and suddenly he can't look you in the eye as he would like to. He doesn't need a mirror to know his face is beet red, the warm doing its job.
"What has you so flustered, Jamie?", you chuckled. Even then, Bucky can't seem to redirect his gaze on you. If anything, the nickname only serves him to feel his heart going crazy.
It's now or never. He can't fathom the idea of having to retire soon just for the sake of a normal life without at least telling you the truth. He even had prepared a written speech he had left in his room, hoping to read it to you someday. Guess this will have to do, he just hopes he remembers everything he said in his letter.
"I know this may seem out of the blue to you. And I want to say sorry in advance if I had read things the wrong way", Bucky begins, and his chest makes him feel as if he's going through some sort of high-priority mission. Your eyes, however, are as patient as only you can be. You had ceased pressing the remote, it being left in the little table in front of you as the news sounded faintly in the lowest volume. You have a sweet questioning look in your eyes that makes Bucky want to kiss you breathless, and for a moment he thinks he saw you gulping from his side glance.
"I've been in love with you", Bucky whispers, his blue stormy eyes fixed on the way your hands rest on your legs, "ever since I've first laid my eyes on you"
"I know you have seen us only as your team and nothing else, but I also know that you have been acting differently with me. Sam noticed too", his tongue is dry but he can't seem to look at your face at that moment, "And even if he hadn't said anything, I feel like you and I understand each other. You and I... we became so close, it's impossible for me to not feel this way about you whenever we get to be together in moments like this one".
Bucky chuckles breathily, and goes on. He tries to ignore the blatant silence from your part, even if it's all it takes for him to feel his hopes shattering.
"We don't even have to be on missions for me to feel this way. All so tingly and blushy like a goddamn schoolboy. I feel everything just from seeing you, so casually sitting and relaxing, or when you decide to put on music just to make me feel good. You are special, Y/N. You are so incredibly special to me and to think about another day watching you and not telling you how I feel is complete torture. I can just hope you feel the same about me"
Bucky finishes hesitantly. His face is still incredibly warm and he allows himself to close his eyes for a moment. You've been silent this whole time, but he could still feel you right beside him, gaze fixed on him, long deep breaths mixed with the whispers of the television.
"James, I...", you begin, and Bucky swears he has never heard your voice so delicate, as if you were handling something extremely fragile. Yeah, his feelings.
Please, let me down gently. Please. His throat constricts as he swallows.
"Jamie, look at me", you say and your hand comes to his flesh arm, nudging him to look up.
"No", he whines almost childishly, still refusing to look. His eyelids are scrunching shut. To be fair, he had to cope some way or another after your impending rejection. He gets to deal with it how he wants it to be. Damn professionalism, damn be the bigger person.
"Why won't you look at me?"
"Because I know what you are going to say", the knot in his throat is almost painful and he feels he's going to cry. "I ain't sorry".
"What would you be sorry for?", you inquire as you get a bit closer, "you have nothing to feel sorry"
"Damn right", Bucky stubbornly says before he finally looks up to you, his nose flaring. He's expecting to find that blank look on your face, but instead you are there... smiling?
And not the pity smile or even the "oh Bucky, I am in love with you too" smile. Not at all. You look like you are on the verge of crying over a hilarious joke he just told you. His heart plummets directly to his stomach and then he takes a bit of space between you two in the couch. The look of disbelief in his face is evident.
"What is wrong with you?"
And then you actually laugh. Well, Bucky thought the worst scenario would be you not reciprocating his feelings. He was clearly wrong.
"Oh no, baby, baby...", you continue laughing, trying to get closer to him again, but he's reluctant to touch you, "Jamie, please, don't be like that...", he's dead quiet and he's once again with his eyes fixed anywhere but you. He can't help the way his eyes water for the embarrassment he's feeling.
"No, James", you insist with your godforsaken smile, and it's then when your hands hold his face, forcing him to look at you. You don't waste your time to show him one of your hands, the one where your usual ring lies.
"You know what this is?"
He shakes his head. He's not in the mood for your cruel mock.
"Baby, this is the ring you asked me to marry you", you say, and it feels as if the tell-tale in his stomach has an enormous pause sign over it.
Bucky furrows his brows in confusion and takes a moment to study your face. And there you are.
Your sweet eyes are sparkling in joy, a radiant smile curls in your lips. But Bucky lets his eyes wander around the rest of your face. Your hair is down, a bit messy, you have soft-looking crinkles around your eyes, around your dimples. You even have whites in your head if he looks beyond.
"What do you mean?", Bucky stops every train of thought as you go for the remote again, only to turn off the TV this time. He follows your movements with his eyes.
The black mirror stares back at him, and he gasps. The metal arm is unmistakably the same, but it seemed as if the years out of the cryo chamber have come up to him. His blue eyes are just as wrinkled as yours, his skin looking as soft and tender as a raising can look. His hair is not as dark as it used to be, peppered with the same whites that cover his beard.
"Jamie, we've been married for almost 30 years. We are far beyond accepting our feelings. Which, by the way, I do feel the same about you", you chuckle waterly, your hand coming to his, intertwining your fingers to his fleshed ones. "I know this might seem a bit confusing, baby, but you have quite an age now. The doctors have said it's the pent up years of your life and out of the cold finally acting up, yet the supersoldier serum is mantaining you in good health. Steve is the same"
"We have two beautiful grown daughters, Jamie. One of them is even carrying our third grandson right now", your soft fingers massage his cheeks, and he feels as if he can breathe again, even through the shocked feeling.
"I-... I did confess my feelings?", he knows right now it's the dumbest question to ask, but to be fair he had come originally with one mission. You laugh again, this time Bucky knows it's not mockery at all.
"Yes, my love. Long time ago", you smile even through your tears, and you close the small gap between you two to give him a soft kiss on his lips. "It wasn't easy, I know I was a hard ass, but no amount of Sergeant Barnes could make me not feel about the way I do about you, baby. You told me after the mission in Kapur, said I was the sexiest ninja and that you weren't regretting it. I was hoping you didn't"
Bucky's not sure if what he's feeling right now is the absolute bliss of happiness or the edge of a cardiac arrest. After some seconds, he knows it's not the latter. He lets his own watery eyes close to shed some tears, and after a deep breath he looks up to your surroundings.
No, you weren't at the Compound. How could he have missed it? Four cream walls surround you, in front of you the nice TV you've been watching before, and on the right side of it lies a nice library with tons of books and pictures. Those little ones are kind of hard to see from that distance, but he still can make out the forms in it. In your walls hang paintings of colorful child hands with the descriptions of "Happy Father's Day. Becca" and others with a kind of comical heart made of sparkles, this time only with the description of "Love you lots. Jennie". His heart once again is feeling the struggle just from letting his eyes wander.
"Look, Jamie", he hears you say as you carefully step up from the sofa to get one of the pictures by the shelf. You hand it to him before sitting by his side again, entwining your arm to his, seeking his warmth. His crinkly blue eyes roam the picture, none other than an official shoot of the reception of your wedding.
You were just as he remembered. So beautiful, dressed to perfection. He was less than that, of course, but the huge smile he wore to the picture told him he couldn't really care about anything else in that moment but you.
"I really did it?", it's not really a question, but it sounds like one. Bucky continues to eye carefully the picture.
"You did it. We did it", you confirm, and then he lets the picture rest on the little table before coming to wrap his arms around you lovingly. He takes a moment to inhale your neck.
Oh well, at least he had done something right. Surely nobody else could snatch you up at this point of your newly rediscovered relationship. He was still eager to try and take you on a first date, though.
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pointbreak-odinson · 3 months ago
jbb headcanons #2
Summary: One of the only times Bucky cries freely.
TW: pregnancy and mentions of childbirth
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Okay I’m soft bc I’ve been thinking about Bucky having kids ever since he woke up watching Sarah’s boys playing with the shield
Once again, this is a black!reader bc I said so, argue with your mama
Anyways, you’re nine months pregnant ready to burst, you just want this baby OUT, but you have one more week before it’s go time
Bucky has been serving you hand and foot since the beginning, which is why he’d go out at like 8 pm to get you your favorite ice cream
He tries 3 different stores and he finally finds the specific brand you want, but as he’s being checked out, he gets a call from you
“Bucky, don’t freak out, but my water broke.”
And he’s immediately freaking out because he was supposed to have one more week to get everything ready, to get himself ready, and he’s not even close to home ahh—
But he collects himself. He knows he has to be the calm one because you’re gonna be in a lot of pain soon.
So of course he calls Sam, his totally-not-best-friend, to take you to the hospital.
When Bucky gets to the hospital and is directed to your room, you’re sitting on the bed, trying to breathe through another contraction and he swears he couldn’t love you more than in that moment.
And you think it’s dumb because you’re sweating, your back is sore, your curls are matted in the back, the bags under your eyes are enormous, and you haven’t been able to see your toes for two months.
But Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off you.
10 hours and several of your loud screams later, Bucky sat with a baby in his arms.
He really couldn’t believe it — half him, half you, with just a touch of something unexplainable, the baby girl in his arms that was clutching onto his metal finger with one tiny brown hand was just perfect. His little Rebecca. (You’d decided on the name long before Bucky even knew it was a girl.)
Then, the tears come because he just can’t believe that something so beautiful could come from him. She had to get it from you.
He didn’t know how long he cried before he felt your soft touch on his cheek wiping away his tears.
And again, he was just so stupidly in love.
Like his heart physically hurts because of how much he loves you and his little girl, it feels like it should be impossible to love anyone or anything that much.
All he can do is let out a wet chuckle and turn his head to press his lips into your palm.
“She has your eyes.” He’d mumble into your hand.
“And your nose.” You’d smile back. “Can I hold my kid now or are you going to keep hogging her to yourself?”
“You were sleeping! But if you must.”
After that, it’d just be a lot of passing Rebecca around and around, back and forth from person to person.
(Sam would come in demanding to hold his niece this instant — she needed to meet who was destined to be her favorite person in the world.)
But eventually, it was just you, Bucky, and the baby once more.
You and Rebecca were resting as Bucky stared in wonder from his chair next to the bed. Tears started to fill his eyes again, and he sniffed them back up.
You’d peek one eye open. “Are you crying again?”
“Yes, now go to sleep.”
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fckwritersblock · 4 months ago
More Than Therapy
Bucky x black!reader
Warning: sooooo there is smut ahead. Okay like, not complete filth but it’s there! Who even knows what this is, but enjoy it!
Pic below from post by @afriendlyblackhottie
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“Look, I’m not saying that she’s not a great therapist, I’m just think that she’s not your style.”
Bucky didn’t hide his eye roll.
For the past 2 weeks, Sam had been trying to convince him he needed a second option. Ever since he had his own encounter with Bucky’s therapist, which consisted of being forcefully included in one of their sessions, he could see it wasn’t really helping Bucky at all. Not that Sam was an expert or anything, he just knew his.....friend.
“Alright Sam, fine.” Bucky sighed tossing the wrench to the side. “So what. I kick my therapist to curb, then what? You got some kind of recommendation or something?”
Sam just smirked before turning and making his way off the boat.
“Actually I do.”
Now here Bucky was, waiting on another person to come and try to break down all his walls and get in his head and help him with through his ‘issues’.
“Waste of time.” He mumbled to his self.
However, when she walked in the door, that thought quickly left.
“I’m Y/n.”
“It’s nice to meet you James.”
For the first time in a very long time Bucky felt comfortable almost immediately. The conversation didn’t feel forced, he didn’t feel pressured, it was just easy. Y/n didn’t push and pry. She simply let him answer the way he want and what he wanted. She let him sort of control the conversation. It was refreshing.
From then on, he saw her twice a week. Their first two weeks together was just them getting to know one another. Establishing trust on Buckys end. He appreciated that for once the woman so much pressure for him to be OK so soon. Finally, after about a month or so, they were doing a little exercises here and there to work through his trauma. The first assignment, it was actually pretty similar to the last psychiatrist he had seen. To get out and make at least one friend. Find an activity or something that he enjoys.
“So have you been getting out like we discussed?”
“Yeah I’ve gone out.” He nodded carelessly with a grin as he sat across the table from her.
Y/n raised an eyebrow. “To places besides the bar.”
“Liar.” She said and it was her turn to grin as she held her hand out.
He sighed and rolled his eyes, handing over his phone. Bucky watched her click a few buttons knowing she was checking his contacts. This was like Deja vu.
“You have the same amount of numbers in your phone as last week Barnes.”
“Not true Doc, I have you.” He smiled sheepishly.
“I hardly count Barnes.” A small smile graced her face nonetheless.
She was quiet for a moment and he took that opportunity to study her. In deep thought. Y/n had a tell. She’d bite the corner of her bottom lip on the right side every time she was trying to figure something out. Usually before she came up with his homework before the next session.
“I have a thought but you’re not gonna like it.” She began after while.
“Lay it on Doc.”
“I don’t feel like you are actively trying to be a part of society. What you’ve been doing, trying to right your wrongs of the other guy...” she drifted for a moment. “It’s futile. You don’t need to do that. That-“
Y/n paused taking a deep breath.
“That’s not you.” She spoke softly.
“But that is me! I am winter soldier!” He yelled on his feet quickly.
Anger. He was familiar with the feeling. Angry was something he just couldn’t seem to stop feeling. Even if he didn’t show it, it was like he was angry all the time. However feeling it with her was unfamiliar. And he could feel the inner turmoil of him taking his frustrations out on her as he tried to push that anger back down.
“Were.” Y/n stated with finality, voice strong. “You were the winter Solider. And that wasn’t you. That’s just a couple of dark chapters in the book of your life. That’s it.
“You don’t know m-“
“But that is not you.” She repeated a little louder commanding forcing him to look her dead in the eyes. “That’s not who you are, James. And while I may not have known you pre-hydra, or during, but I’m knowing you now. And that’s just not you.”
Y/n leaned back in her chair.
“I know that here, Bucky.” She grinned a little placing her hand over her heart and tapped twice. “And deep down, so do you.”
“. You, James Buchanan Barnes, you are not the bad guy.
The anger he had been feeling had subsided and I was replaced with something that was completely unfamiliar to him. Something he longed for couldn’t quite the grass. Something that he didn’t even realize was in within his reach until noon.. The feeling, regardless of how unfamiliar it was with something Bucky didn’t think he wanted to go away.
The silence between them was comfortable. Y/n could tell that he was processing her words. It was a good thing, she could because he was no longer good tense and his stance was relaxed instead of defensive.
“You know what? We’re finished for today. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She declared.
“What?” Bucky snapped out of his tranced and frowned. “Doc, come on. I shouldn’t be seeing you til Thursday.”
“Yeah tomorrow,” she nodded with a smile. “I want to try something different.”
The next day but he showed up at their usual time, 11 AM. When he stopped at a reception to ask for Dr. Y/n they informed him she was out for the day. He frowned and turned to leave only to find her approaching him from the elevator.
“Hey! You ready to go?” Y/n offered a gentle smile.
“I thought we were-“ he asked went fo point back toward her office but she stopped him.
“We are. We’re just doing things differently today.” She informed him, before nodding her head toward the elevator. “Let’s go.”
Their day together was eventful to say the least. Their first stop was her favorite coffee spot. It was actually a little hole in the wall called Hippies Brew in the downtown area. A cool modern place full of friendly and eccentric individuals. It was comfortable. Homey. It wasnt one she’d typically recommend clients, but she would recommend it to friends. After that they were too the aquarium followed by the park where they sat on a park bench for lunch. Lunch being tacos from the El Gordo’s taco truck parked near by. Well a lot of the time at the park or spit in silence, it was still comfortable as a people watched together. While Bucky hated to admit it, this is the first time he really just felt at peace. There was no one looking over him with some unrealistic expectation of him to be Steve, and become so hero he wasn’t. There was no pressure to get his shit together right then and there. He was just simply allowed to be Bucky. Unapologetically.
“Walk with me?” He asked.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, surprised he initiated doing something together, but agreed with a smile.
Soon enough they easily fell into conversation of as they began to walk the lake.
Before they knew it, the sun was beginning to set. Their time together lasted longer than Y/n planned but either was it was nice. She enjoyed today, as did he. Bucky’s offered to walk her back to her car, savoring their last few moments together.
“Are you sure I can’t give you a ride home?” Y/n asked as they got closer to her car in the now empty lot.
“Yeah, Doc, lm sure.” He smiled back at her, her smile and laugh being infectious. “I like walking. It gives me time to think. it’s peaceful. Kind of like today.”
Y/n’s smile widened at his confession. So her idea did work. He was making progress.
“ That’s what you deserve James peace. I can’t promise every day is gonna be like this.” She turned away approaching the driver side door. “I mean, it is life there are going to be some bad days. But you do deserve some peace. Some happiness.
She turned to see that he was a lot closer than she thought saying that he was preparing to open the door for her. She swallowed, suddenly feel in the air around them shift. As she ran her tongue over her lips, Bucky’s eyes zeroed in on the action.
“You just have to let yourself have it.” She said softly.
It was in that exact moment where James decided he was going to do just that; let himself have happiness. And without thinking, he leaned forward and connected his lips with her.
He pulled away almost as soon as it happened eyes wide.
“James…” y/n finger tips traced her lips as she stared at him.
“I am, i, I don’t know-“ Bucky stuttered.
He went to take a step back but was stopped. This time it was her who initiated the kiss.
What started off as gentle, turned into her fisting a handful of his shirt put him closer with his hands wrapped around her waist. The heat that washed over them both, was like a moth to a flame. The passion poured into the kiss from both ends quickly consuming them both. The two fighting for a dominance, it wasn’t until they both harshly pushed against her car setting the alarm off that they snapped out of it.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry wh-“ Y/n’s eyes were wide as she looked around anxiously.
Bucky could sense her panicking.
“ I am so sorry. That was highly inappropriate of me-“
“Breathe for me doll-“ he reached for her but she pulled her hand away shaking her head vigorously.
“I can’t, we can’t, I have never.” She took a deep breath, her next words still coming out shaky. “I’m so sorry. To take a vantage of you like that-“
“I was the one who-“ he attempted once more to no avail.
“I have to go. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” She rushed out, flinging her door open and getting in the car.
All Bucky could do was watch as she wasted no time peeling out of the parking lot.
That was the last he had seen or heard of her. It had been almost two weeks and she had canceled both his weekly sessions and hadn’t answered any of his calls or returned any of the messages he left both at the office and on her cell phone.
And boy, was he stressed about it.
He had never felt that kind of passion before. To be honest it was something he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. He had been consumed by anger for so long, he wanted to cling onto whatever else, anything else. Bucky would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the chemistry between them. He came to the conclusion he’d been falling for her for a while, and was clearly in denial until that day they spent the day together. It’s not like he was trying to fall for his therapist. But now that he had...Ge had to at least try. Make sure what he was feeling wasn’t one sided.That spark. It was a feeling, a high he had never felt. One he knew he’d forever be chasing and he wanted it again and again and again. So when the third week approached he decided to take matters into his own hands.
A knock her door tore her away from Grey’s Anatomy.
Pulling her dress down, she went and answered the door.
“Bucky.” She said his name breathlessly.
“Y/n.” He breathed out, happy to be in her presence even though it hurt slightly to hear her suddenly calling him Bucky.
He quite liked when she called him James. He liked the way she said his name.
“What are you-, how.” She tried to control her breathing. “You can’t be here.”
“I need you,” he signed. “To hear me out.”
“James.” He corrected her. “Look, I know this totally inappropriate but I-“
James paused taking in her appearance, noticing the purple bruising around her lower right eye above her cheekbone.
“Who?” He questioned through gritted teeth.
He huffed pushing past her and moving in and around the apartment as if someone would come out and confess. He turned toward her a wild look in his eye.
“Give me. A name, Y/n.”
“James....” she signed.
While he knew she was talking seeing as her lips were moving, It was like he could hear her but he wasn’t hearing her. Bucky couldn’t focus on anything other than a bruise on the side of Y/n’s beautiful face. It had been along time since Bucky had thought of actually hurting somebody, save for John Walker last week which was another story entirely, whoever did this to her face though, he wanted to hurt them bad and he was going to enjoy it. His eyes traveled down toward her lips and he still couldn’t hear her. All he could hear was his fist repeated smashing into said individuals face. Over, and over, over-
The sound of her voice finally resonated and he finally focused on her words.
“Come back to me James.” Her voice was gently. Inviting.
Everything he noticed both her hands on the side of his face, her thumb rubbing soothingly.
“It’s fine.” She said slowly removing her hands away as she explained. “There’s no need to hunt anyone down. Just a regular 50150 patient and things got out of hand. It happens.”
“No one should touch you.” He stated with seriousness.
Y/n stared at him for a moment, the right side of her lip pulled between her teeth, eyes pooling with something he hadn’t seen in her before. She shrugged nonchalantly.
“I kind of like it when you touch me.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper but he heard her loud and clear.
Just like before, it started off with light kisses, which soon turned into a bit of teasing, a little lip nipping, before things got extremely heated. Both his shirt had been discarded while the straps of her dress were pulled down revealing her black Savage Fenty bra. They had somehow moved from the living room to the kitchen island. Bucky stood between her legs one hand tangled in her braids while her hands held the sides of her face, gently caressing the stubble. Her legs were wrapped around his middles as she began grinding her hips into him. He pulled her closer, the both of them on a high from the friction. Bucky’s metal hand traveled up her bare back giving her goosebumps. They broke apart for air and as soon as Y/n had enough oxygen in her lungs, she went back to licking, kissing and sucking on his neck.
"Shit, Y/n.” Bucky unconsciously tilted his head back giving her better access, his hands palming her ass as his hips bucked into her.
"James." Y/n pulled back panting, lips swollen. " I want you. Now."
Bucky made quick work of removing her panties that coated in her juices , and in return y/n quickly unbuckled his pants using her feet to aid her in pushing them down.
“Shit.” He groaned immediately as she whimpered slightly at the feel of him sliding into her.
Her arms were wound around his neck while his hand gripped the top of her ass to keep her in place as he begin to slowly thrust in and out of her.
Bucky was on a high. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this level of intimacy. Euphoria. He was sure this feeling should be illegal.
The way she were wrapped around him, he knew if he didn’t take it semi slow he wasn’t going to last.
“James,” she moaned, clawing at his back, walls clenching.
He wasn’t sure what sounded sweeter; her moaning or his name leaving her lips.
“Doll?” He responded, kissing the at the base of her neck.
I’m clos-“ Y/n sucked in a breath of air. “Right there.”
“There?” He asked spreading her ass cheeks apart so he could go deeper.
“Yes! Right there!”
It was a bit sloppy from there as Bucky shifted for a better angle. Her ass halfway off the table as he picked up the pace bit her her closer to the edge. He was bouncing her up and down on his shaft effortlessly. Her arms wrapped right around his neck, kiss sloppy as she bit her lip to keep her moans at bay.
“No,” he breathed out, reaching up with one hand forcing her to kissing him, her moans filling his mouth instead. “I want to hear you.”
“James, I’m-“
“I know.”
The sight of Y/n coming undone before him was a glorious one . He couldn’t wait to make her cum again.
Once she came down from her orgasm, she placed her lips back on his, tightening her legs around him once more. He shifted their position a bit and begin again when suddenly the front door opened and in walked Sam.
“Oh shit!” Bucky pulled out of her and struggled to pull up his pants and turned to shield her half naked frame.
“Sam!” Y/n squealed pulling her dress up to her chest as best she could.
“What in the entire fuck!” Sam screamed while covering his eyes.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” Y/n yelled.
“You told me toy were off!”
“I’m am off!”
“Well I thought I’d bring you dinner! I didn’t know id find this!” Sam said exasperatedly.
Y/n and Bucky were decent informing Sam he no longer had to cover his eyes. Immediately he pointed an accusatory finger at Bucky.
“You! What the fuck did I tell you about my sister?”
Bucky stared at him confused.
“You said not to flirt with your sister.” He repeated Sam’s words. “Sarah’s not..”
He then turned toward Y/n, things finally clicking.
“You’re Sam’s sister.” Bucky concluded.
“Baby sister.” Sam. added.
“I’m grown as hell Samuel!” Y/n fussed.
“Really bruh, my baby sister?!”
“Well how i suppose to know you only refer to her as baby!”
“Once again! I’m grown as fuck-“ she stopped hearing the front door creek open again.
“Who’s that?!” The woman’s eyes were wide with horror as she whispered.
“The boys!” Sam exclaimed in a whisper.
“Why didn’t you say they were here-“ she began frantically washing her hands.
“I’m sorry I was a little fuckin preoccupied with the fact my sister is fucking an assassin-
“Former assassin!” Bucky corrected.
“Hey TT!” Sarah’s boys greeted simultaneously with smiles as they bent the corner.
“Hey my babies!” Y/n instantly put a smile on her face pulling them each into her arms.
“Hey Bucky!” Cass waved
“Hey Bucky!” AJ addressed the solider as well before turning back toward his brother, “Cass , come on.”
“Wait let me put the pizza on the counter-“
“No!” The three adults exclaimed together.
“No boo, I’ll take it.” Y/n smiled again at her nephew taking the pizza.
“why don’t yall go in the living room and get the game set up?” Sam suggested.
“Yes! Let’s take the pizza in there while they bleach the kitchen?” Y/n hinted at the men while telling the kids to follow her.
“Oh yeah! TT, Uncle Sam got us two new video games!”,AJ informed her. “He also said we can watch a scary movie tonight since moms not here.
“Yeah! Andddd, he said we can door dash ice cream!” Cass added as the two kids followed their aunt into the living room.
Though he was silent, throughout the entire interaction but he couldn’t help but want you living room interact with the two kids. Back in the day, if you would’ve asked him if he believed in love at first site he would’ve said no. But he was pretty sure he was in love with Y/n already.
Once out of sight, Bucky took that opportunity to speak after a beat.
“Have I ever told you I’m glad you treat your nephew’s so well, Sam?” He asked after clearing his throat.
Sam sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah? Why’s that?” Bucky turned to him with a huge grin on his face.
“Cuz I’m gonna give you another one.”
Slowly Sam began to laugh, albeit one full of sarcasm, Bucky joined in sincerely. They laughed together for a moment before Sam ceased, his face expressionless.
“Yeah Sam?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
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rommahh · a month ago
Wash Day
Pairing: BuckyBarnesxBlack!Reader
Word Count: 1.1K
{Heres my submission for the POC Readers of Color Challenge made by @uncafeavecbarnes and @happygowriting. I knew I wanted to participate in this challenge from the second I saw it. I based this one shot heavily off of my own experiences as a black girl with kinky, curly hair. I hope y'all enjoy it. Much love, R.}
You and Bucky's shared room smelled of the shea butter lotion you lathered onto your skin after your shower hours ago. You sat on the love seat in the corner of the room. Your lap was covered by a blanket and a dry towel sitting just on top of that. On your left sat your favorite deep conditioner and spray bottle. On your right sat a vat of setting gel and scalp oil.
Your fingers were sore from the detangling of your coarse hair but you knew that a few days from now you would be basking in how good your hair looked. Twists outs were hit or miss with your hair but you've seemed to master your routine.
Your laptop sat in front of you on the coffee table, playing a calming video of someone decorating a new bullet journal. Bucky had left this morning right before you got in the shower. He cheekily was able to check out your nude form before leaving out the door. Even though you started your hair hours ago, you still weren't done.
Your hair is a process. From the washing to the detangling to the styling- it was an all day excursion. You remember a time when you were younger where you used to hate your hair. You were the only little black girl in your class with an afro whereas your white peers had nice straight hair. You used to be jealous of how they could easily play with each other's hair and how they could share their experiences on the playground by braiding each other's hair.
As you grew older, you watched more black girls learn to love their natural hair. You were finally able to share experiences with other girls. You could talk about how painful your braids were and how long it took to put the beads in. You could talk about your favorite smelling hair products and how your favorite hair shop on the corner of the street was having a sale.
You grew to love your hair. You love learning new things about your hair like its porosity and what products are absorbed quickly in your hair. You loved trying new protective styles like butterfly locs, bantu knots, and passion twists. Your hair made you feel good.
You finish off a row of mini twists when the door opens showing your boyfriend and all of his sweaty glory. His shirt stuck to him with sweat signifying that he had just got back from training with Sam at the compound. You couldn't help but check out his thick thighs as he bent down to untie his shoes.
He walked over to you, leaning over your body to give you a kiss on the lips.
“Are you still doing your hair?” His question made you roll your eyes, a small laugh leaving your lips. He looked to the bed contemplating sitting on it but he remembered your rules of no outside clothes on the bed. He sat down on the floor in front of you caressing your knees that stuck out from where you were sitting on the couch ‘criss-cross applesauce’.
“Bucky we’ve been together for too long for you not to know that wash day is an all day excursion.” You replied lowering your hands to your towel to wipe them off. Bucky laughed at your comment.
“My bad baby, I should know better.” With your newly wiped off hand you grabbed his non-metal hand giving it a squeeze. “I love your hair, so pretty.” He says quietly.
You feel your face warm up at his comment. Even though it was a small comment, it meant so much to you. You didn't need your white boyfriend's validation but that doesn't mean it doesn't sometimes feel good. He was invested in your natural hair journey. Following all of your favorite natural hair gurus on instagram and purchasing newly released products for you to try out. He hyped you up every time you did something new with your hair while also making sure you felt loved even when it wasn't done and you were overdue for a wash.
“I missed you this morning. You didn't give me any time to give you my morning cuddles.” You pouted at him.
“I know, I know and I'm sorry. Mr. Captain America just wanted to train with me this morning and talk to me about an upcoming mission. We trained with the shield a little bit.” He stood from where he was sat to stand and stretch.
“Fine, I guess my soldier has to stay on top of training and looking all hot and buff and stuff.” You joked. He lifted his shirt showing off a peak of his abs while wiggling his hips and eyebrows. You hollered at him as he did his little dancy dance.
“I'm going to take a shower.” You hummed in response, your hands returning to your hair. Bucky stripped outside of the bathroom, you admired his little butt on the way into the bathroom.
You started a new row of hair, your rat tail comb brushing your scalp to part your hairs from each other. You parted that hair into even smaller sections. Grabbing a smaller section you sprayed it with water, waiting a second to allow the hair to absorb the water. Next you went in with the deep conditioner, lathering it through the piece. You felt your hair drink up the conditioner, softening under the touch. To lock in the curls that had formed from the conditioner, you applied a good amount of gel. Once those things settled in your hair, you formed two strands, twisting them around each other.
By the time you finished off your twists, Bucky had exited the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. You stood from the couch, your body stretching dramatically from sitting for so many hours. Bucky dropped the towel before pulling on a pair of sweats.
“You freeballing it? Risky.” You questioned with an eyebrow raised.
“Yeah, I know you like easy access.” He mutters hanging up his towel. Y/N cleans up her area, putting her hair stuff next to her laptop.
“Ew James.” You scold. He turns to look at you with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. Before he could say anything, you launched yourself at him. Your arms wound around his shoulders, legs wrapped around his strong waist. He grunted, grabbing your legs, borderline gripping a handful of butt.
“Woah, sweetheart.”
“I didn't get to give my baby his morning cuddle.” You coddle giggling at his unimpressed face. You place a smattering of kisses over his face enjoying the way his face heats with warmth. You finally land a kiss on his lips, humming with contentment.
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kaywritesfanficss · 4 months ago
Bucky dating a black reader
Requested? No
Warnings?: Light racism talk , H*dra , W#lk*r 🙄 , TFATWS SPOILERS, mostly fluff??
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“Doll is this ok? “Bucky it’s just shampoo calm dow-” “I just don’t want to hurt you.”
He understands the times now so he is really protective
If anyone says anything I mean ANYTHING bad about you its game over
“I’ll be right back love” “BUCKY NO COME BACK STOP”
If a guy is flirting with you he needs to run as soon as possible
Bucky will have his hand on the small of your back and give the guy a death glare and will have his sleeves up a bit to show his vibranium arm
He makes sure they know you’re his
“Doll do you want me your boyfriend to grab you a drink my beautiful amazing girl?”
As soon as they said W*lk*r was the new captain america he was angry but when you said “Baby it’s just the way is, it sucks but we deal with it” he was furious
He was going to give the shield to Sam no matter what because he knows no one should have to deal with that
When Sam realized Bucky liked you he would tease him
“So you like chocolate now” “Sam.”
He thinks your bonnets are amazing and will buy you a million if you asked
“Should I get this one or this one?” “Get both” “Bucky you are going to waste all of your money!” “Whatever it takes to make you happy”
He might like your nails more
“Get Blue, wait no! i Get black. Wait ge-“ “Bucky I just got my nails done”
Your parents would definitely not like him at first (you know why) but they would quickly warm up to him
Bucky would definitely help your parents out while they cook
Bucky hasn’t really had a good meal because of H*dra so he is definitely blown away by your families cooking
But when he watches you cook for the first time he’s definitely confused
“Back in my day half of these seasonings weren’t even a thing” “Okay Grandpa”
He loves you no matter how dark your skin is or how aggravated you get when you do your hair
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angrythingstarlight · 5 months ago
What A Peach
Summary: You decide to try out an interesting pair of legging and inadvertently cause Bucky to lose his mind. What can he say, the man loves a good peach. 
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Gif by @unearthlydust
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, body worship, Bucky is an ass man (dont @ me either)
A/N: Written for @sagechanoafterdark (surprise) and beta’d by the wonderful @buckyownsmylife but all mistakes are my own. 
Do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post any parts of my stories.  Likes, comments and reblogs are weclome. 
Check out my Masterlist and Taglist! Requests are closed 
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“I don’t know, are you sure this is going to work?” you ask, not even bothering to hide the skepticism in your voice. You’ve been watching the same series of clips for the past five minutes and you’re not convinced. “Nat, I’m sure most of these are staged anyway, plus I don’t look like half these women.” 
The alluring redhead snatches her phone out of your hand with a smirk. “Have you seen the way he looks at you?” She retorts, tapping her screen with a long manicured nail. “He’s going to love it.” She stares at you, daring you to disagree with her. 
You roll your eyes and go back to your cart, clicking out of it, you review the return policy again. What started off as a joke led to you studying your online shopping cart, wondering if you were really going to buy some leggings because of a TikTok trend. 
Nat holds her phone in front of your face, “tell me that’s not Bucky.” 
Watching the eager man on the screen, you have to admit that’s how he would act. And you like it. Picturing Bucky behaving that way has your stomach in knots from anticipation, he’s already insatiable and this would tip him over the edge. Nat sees your expression change and laughs knowingly, “remember to thank me when he blows your back out.” 
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Two days later. 
It’s been a lazy start to the day, neither of you doing much besides showering and lounging. You’re sitting on the couch with your feet on his lap. While he’s relaxed and enjoying his day off, you’ve been anxiously awaiting your package. Discreetly tracking it for the past hour and now it’s only two stops away. Glancing over the top of your phone, you look at Bucky, chewing on your bottom lip, wondering how he manages to look so good first thing in the morning. 
His blue eyes fixate on the tv, pink lips parted as he watches the Fellowship of the Ring for the second time this week. A three-day-old stubble on his angular cheeks, his hair mussed from sleep.
 Since you didn’t plan on going anywhere today, you’re in his teal Henley and panties while he has on your favorite pair of gray sweatpants. His dog tags resting on his broad chest, clanking softly as he leans forward, engrossed in the movie. 
One more stop. Oh, you’re excited. So close. You must have made a noise because he glances over at you, his lips turning up in a wide smile, “whatcha doing doll?” He asks. 
You hide your face behind your phone, mumbling “Nothing.” Damn his enhanced hearing.  
Bucky tilts his head, quirking a brow. “Nothing” he repeats, pausing the movie when you giggle. He grabs your ankle with his large hand, “tell me or else, doll.” His playful tone warning you he’s seconds away from tackling you.  
Before he can pull you towards him, the doorbell chimes. “I’ll get it.” You scramble off his lap, inadvertently kicking him in the stomach, making him oof.
“Sorry,” you say over your shoulder, running to the hallway. Flinging the door open, you grab the box from the delivery person with a “thanks” and close it behind you. Tucking the brown package under your arm, you spin on your heel, heading for the bedroom.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, where are you going and what’s that?” Bucky inquires, leaning over the back of the couch, one arm dangling over the side, his amused blue eyes raking over you. 
 You really should have planned better, you don’t respond, trying to think of a way to get upstairs and change. If you hadn’t been wine drunk with Natasha, you would have thought to have it delivered tomorrow. He watches you shift your weight onto one foot with growing amusement and a tinge of suspicion.
 “Come here, doll,” he demands, gesturing with his vibranium finger. 
“Bucky, I-,” you break off, sprinting up the stairs. His huff of shocked laughter following you. “Finish your movie, Buck-,” you yell.
He spots your phone on the cushion; he chuckles to himself, thinking of how easy it would be to take a peek. Instead, Bucky settles back on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. Leaving it untouched, knowing you’ll tell him your secret, eventually. 
You come back down a few minutes later and prop your feet back up on his lap. He gives you a questioning glance, but you only shrug innocently. “Alright, doll,” he says, studying you out of the corner of his eye with a low hum. 
The morning drags on for hours as you try to hide your excitement. Nervous energy rolling off you in waves. Bucky continues to observe you quietly, his interest piqued, he knows something has you riled up and he can’t deny how cute you are whenever you get like this. 
Around noon, after a few rounds of teasing you, trying to get to you give him a hint, he reluctantly leaves you to go work on your car after you not so subtly ask him when he’s going for the fifth time. He smiles at your giddy goodbye, almost laughing again when you practically shove him into the garage. 
With Bucky out of the way, you quickly find the leggings you hid in the closet and pull them out of the clear plastic wrapping. Unsure of what color to get, you opted for the dark gray pair with the honeycomb design and high waistband. 
They look a little smaller than you expected. Putting your legs in, you awkwardly hop on the carpeted floor as you struggle to pull them up. After a few near falls, you get the tight stretchy material over your hips. Smoothing your hands down your thighs, you’re surprised at how well they fit.
Holding up the back of his shirt, you marvel at how they curve around your ass, lifting and supporting you in a way that has you giving your reflection a double-take. Twisting from side to side, you can’t believe how you look from every angle. “Magic,” you mutter aloud, “Has to be magic.” 
You grab a handful of his shirt, tying it into a knot in the front so that it doesn’t hang over your butt. With one last look, you give in to the urge to smack your own ass before walking down to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you grab a few things to make lunch and place them on the counter. Your plan is to show off the goods, make him lunch, and have an afternoon quickie. 
The sounds of him working travel through the closed door leading to the garage. You lean over the counter, practicing some poses you saw on the clips. Remembering one video, in particular, you arch your back and go up on your tiptoes. 
Taking a deep breath, you shout, “Bucky, lunch is almost ready.” 
The loud clanking stops, you hear his footsteps approach the door and you drop your gaze to the food. The door creaks open and your heart races. Moment of truth. You bite your lip, eyes scrunched shut as you wait for him. 
Bucky strolls in, wiping his hands off with an old gray towel, “I’m starving-…” his voice tapers off when he sees you. Fuck, he sees you. In one of his favorite positions, normally he would prefer you to be naked, but something looks a little different. 
His eyes drift down your back to your- oh. A million thoughts race through his rapidly malfunctioning brain. “God damn,” he breathes out after a full minute of gawking at you. 
“What the- how, damn doll,” he groans appreciatively, his blue eyes focused on your ass, “What the fuck, you look good. Shit, you’re always sexy but what did you to that ass,”
Your face burns from his praise, and you wiggle your hips. He lets out a low whistle followed by another round of praises. 
Bucky saunters over to you, whipping his phone out of his back pocket, “stay just like that,” he orders, you giggle in your hand when he takes several pictures, “damn,” he repeats with every snap. “I didn’t think you could get prettier, but damn. You know I can’t let you leave the house, right?.” 
When he gets closer, he tosses his phone on the counter and slaps your ass. Hard. Moaning vulgarly when it jiggles from the force of his hand and he does it over and over until you cry out softly he knows how much you love it when he gets like this. 
His head dips for a quick bite of your cheek, “I love these, doll, love your ass even more,” he points out, accentuating his words with another slap.
“Bucky” you yelp, feeling the sting ripple across your skin. 
He fondles your cheeks, “Don’t ‘Bucky me’ doll, not when you’re out here looking like a goddamn snack,” he mutters squeezing you, “where did you get these and how many did you buy?” 
Not waiting for your answer, he places his hands on your hips and spins you around until you’re facing him. His darkened blue eyes brimming with infatuation and yearning, “You’re beautiful, you know that?” 
“I love you,” He grasps your chin, “but now you have to pay for teasing me like this.” He reaches behind you, knocking everything off the counter, the food and containers tumbling to the floor. 
You cough out a shocked, “Bucky!”
“Forget the food, doll, I’m having you for lunch,” he smirks, placing his hands under your shirt, his thumbs circling your nipples until they harden under the rough pads of his fingers.
His lips slot over yours, a passionate, slow kiss, his tongue leisurely exploring your mouth until you melt into him, your hands in his hair, pulling him closer.
Deepening the kiss, he drops his hands between your thighs, pushing them apart, he tugs at the inner seams of your leggings. You jerk your head back at the sound of fabric ripping.
“Oh, no you don’t, “he mutters, capturing your mouth again before your protest can leave your lips. You quickly forget to be upset when his warm finger slides through your dripping folds, teasing your bud until you ache for more. 
He pulls away, grinning smugly at your whine. He can’t wait, god you’re always sexy, but something about you wrapped up in these leggings like a damn birthday gift out of wet dream has him almost feral with need. 
Bucky grips his shaft, freeing himself from his sweatpants, letting the material pool around his feet. You lean back, spreading your thighs. Your breath falters when his darkened eyes move up to your face. 
 “I can’t even think right now, doll,” he rasps out, his voice thick with need, hurriedly sliding his swollen head through your folds, drenching himself in your slick, “This is what you did to me,” he continues thrusting into you, quick and hard, stretching your velvety walls with each inch. 
You fall to your elbows, moaning when he bottoms out, the slight burn giving way to pleasure when he rolls his hips. Bucky stares down at you, his hands gripping your thighs, he stills inside of you.
 “Wait, no,” he says, pulling out of your warmth. He ignores your confused protest, pulling you down off the counter. 
He spins you, bending you over the smooth surface, his large hand pushing down on your back until your chest is flat on the surface, ass in the air, your head turned to the side as you pant. 
“That’s better.” He states, “much better.” 
 Lifting your hips, he slams back into your core, your warm, tight heat enveloping him with each rough thrust. Bucky concentrates on your ass bouncing as his pace builds. “I’m buying you one in every color,” he decides, unable to handle how good you look right now. “Every fucking color,” he declares. 
“Yes, Bucky,” you sob. The way he’s fucking you right now, you would have agreed to wear the damn things on your head if he asked. Your nails bite into the skin of your palm when he grinds his hips into you.
“Fuck you’re good,” he praises, “so good.” His stomach tensing whenever you clench down over him. You feel every ridge of him when he pulls out, layers of pleasure building with every stroke. Your hands scramble over the granite surface, trying to find something to hold on to, needing to ground yourself. 
“That’s it, doll,” he says over your moans, “take it.” Bucky leans over, angling deeper in your throbbing pussy, caging you under his large body as he pins your wrists down. You can’t move, the smooth counter pressing into your chest, his dog tags dangling over your back,
 “Oh, oh yes” you mewl, words slurring as you lose yourself in the sensations. 
 “You’re only wearing these inside this house,” he swears, dark and low, in your ear. His hips snapping into yours, kissing your neck, “Only. These.” Punctuating his words with two more deep thrusts that send you arching into him. 
You try to respond, but then he kicks your legs further apart, slapping your ass again. Sharp broken sobs spill out, pressure building hard and fast, when his thick digits find your clit. “You’re gonna cum for me right now,” he murmurs. 
Your addled brain only hears cum for me, stars exploding behind your eyelids as the coils snap. Your spasming walls clench down, his name ending in a strangled wail, dragging him back into your body because he feels too damn good to let go. 
“Good girl, there you go, that’s my girl,” Bucky kisses your back, your soft skin slick and salt-tinged on his lips, waiting for you to recover. When you release a shuddering breath, body limp and relaxed under him, he eases out of your slick cunt, trying to hold back a groan when the cool air hits his cock. Still heavy and hard. 
 “Now I wanna see how these leggings look when you ride me.” 
You blearily glance over your shoulder and he smirks down at you, his hand wrapped around his shaft. “Kitchen floor or couch?” You know by his tone, he really means which one first because he’s going to have you on both. 
You do thank Nat much, much later, when you’re finally able to form a semi-coherent sentence.
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 The very next day, you come home to find Bucky sitting on the couch with a pair of scissors in his hand, a large open box on the coffee table. 
“Hey doll,” he utters distractedly, not looking up as you walk into the room. You freeze when you round the couch, your bag slipping from your hand. Almost a dozen of those leggings, all different colors and patterns, piled up beside him, but it’s the pair on his lap that captures your attention.
Closing your eyes, you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Bucky.” 
“Hmm,” he hums in response, his tongue between his teeth as he carefully cuts out the crotch of the neon pink leggings.
“You’re not-” you huff. 
“Oh, I am.” Bucky’s eyes flicker over to you with a wicked gleam, “now you can’t complain about me ripping holes in your clothes.” 
Furrowing your brows, you sputter, “that’s not the point- Bucky, you can’t just-” 
“Like I said now you can’t complain.” He tosses the pair on the pile next to him and reaches for another set. “Oh, and I fixed your panties too.”
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amethystnalaah · 8 months ago
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cha-lyn · 4 months ago
A Series of Break Ins
bucky x black female reader
Summary: Someone breaks into your apartment
Warnings: break ins, lil bit of violence, wounds + blood
Words: 1617
A/N: Inspiration from @write-it-motherfuckers ( prompt is in bold somewhere below) :) some wonderful stuff on that blog
You lived in an old building in a shitty part of town. The loft kind that was once an office or a factory or something. Lots of windows. Terrible heat bill in the winter. You heard gunshots and fighting frequently. It wasn’t your dream home. No, your windows faced a manufacturing building with no windows. From your fire escape, if you stretched really far, you could cross the alley and touch the building. You only did that once though because the fire escape was rickety and not very safe.
That particular night, you were coming home from a mediocre date with a guy named Marcus. Usually you’d take a cab home, but your budget was tight this month. So you weaved through the alleys, the cold and the dark making you more jumpy than usual. You just wanna be home, with your warm fuzzy socks on and a glass of wine.
Your anxiety settles once you make it into your building. You take the steps two a time to your third floor studio. You open your door, shutting it quickly and leaning back against it.
That’s when the hairs on your arm stand up. Your eyes shoot open and your breath catches. Your kitchen light is on. You know it was not on when you left earlier. In your kitchen sits your first aid kit dumped out on the table.
You grab the baseball bat you keep next to the door and check every crevice of your home. Nothing.
You return to the kitchen, hesitantly. Next to the first aid kit is a napkin with a note: Sorry for the intrusion. I’ll replace everything I used. Thanks. - BB
You just looked at the note and blinked. Who the fuck had been in your apartment?!
The next day there’s a package outside your door containing the promised replacements from the stranger. There’s another note: Sorry again. -BB
You’re not quite sure what to do. Call the police? And say what- someone broke in, left no trace and then replaced what they stole? They would think you’re crazy.
After the break in you upped your security. You got a deadbolt, a door chain, and a magnetic sensor on your front door that rang and alerted your phone when set off.
You felt pretty good about your upgrade… until it happened again. You’d come home late from drinks with a friend unlocked the door, then the deadbolt.
The light in your kitchen was on again. You grabbed your bat immediately, ready to swing on whoever was dumb enought to break into your house yet again.
“Whoa, whoa ma’am. Please don’t--” but you did. Whack him that is. Three times. And then a black gloved hand stopped your swings dead and blue eyes lock with yours.
“Holy fucking shit. B. B! It was you. Fucking Bucky Barnes broke into my house!”
He nods and watches your face as it goes from rage to confusion and then back to rage. You let go of the bat and he puts it behind him. “Look, I am really sorry. I know this is probably terrifying--”
“Yeah ‘cause I thought you were a god damn serial killer--not an Avenger!” You plop down onto a kitchen chair.
Bucky stared at you amused. “This is not how I thought this would go…”
“Don’t you have some Avenger place you can go and get fixed up? Instead of breaking into civilian households?” you sigh irritatedly.
“No. For one I’m not an Avenger…. And uh, two… I got hurt doing something not necessarily sanctioned by the government.” Bucky looked up at the ceiling bashfully.
“My god, you’re doing vigilante shit,” you breathed out a laugh.
Bucky shrugged, “You could call it that.” He wrung his gloved hands together. “I should go… I’ll send you replacements for the stuff I used. ”
“Or you could just not break into my house.” Bucky chuckled, before climbing out the window. “You could use the door!’
The man has the audacity to laugh as he closes your window, “Thanks again, doll.”
You let out a groan, wondering why on earth he chose your apartment and why on earth you weren’t more pissed off about it.
You’re dead asleep when you hear a thud on the fire escape outside your window. Your heart thuds like a bass drum as scenarios of you being murdered flash through your head. A stabbing. A shooting. God, please not a strangling. Then there’s a persistent tapping. You pretend to still be asleep, holding your breath and not moving.
“I know you're awake. I need to .. uh utilize your first aid kit again. Please, doll.”
Relief hits you like a wave and you flick the light on and get out of bed. You open the window and Sergeant Barnes slips through the space, holding his flesh arm, but not really effectively stopping the blood.
The two of you stand there for a second, until you remember that you don’t sleep with pants on and awkwardly move around him to find a pair of shorts. You find him sitting at your kitchen table again, waiting for you to get the first aid kit, like he doesn’t have a goddamn metal arm on him.
“For fuck’s sake…” You pull it out from under the sink and set it in front of him with a thud. Bucky smirks sheepishly. “Did you get shot again?” you ask after a while. He nods once as he gets to work. “Aren’t you like... super?” He nods. “Won't it heal super fast?” He nodded once again. “So what’s the point of the first aid kit?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” he sighs irritatedly.
You narrow your eyes, “Oh dear, am I inconveniencing you?”
He stops and looks up at you through his dark lashes. “Sorry. I’m being rude. What's your name anyway?”
You roll your eyes, but you tell him.
He cleans after himself and then stands. “Thank you again. Y/n.”
You ignore the lil shiver you get when he says your name, “Is this gonna be a regular thing Sargeant?”
Bucky flashed you a charming smile, “Do you want it to be, doll?”
You cross your arms and set you glare, “You have five seconds before I get my bat.”
Bucky let out a very boyish laugh before dramatically making his exit via the window again.
Over the next few days, you consider getting locks for the windows, but for some reason you just don’t.
Two weeks later, you open your door, arms full of groceries, and find Bucky sitting on the floor of your kitchen once more, first aid kit open in front of him. You’re not even surprised really.
“Ah, Hello again. We really need to stop meeting like this.”
You scoff, “Maybe we would, if you would sTOP BREAKING INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE!!” You toss your purse on the couch.
Bucky laughs and the winces and groans. It’s then that you realize he’s very pale in the face and his flesh hand isn’t gloved it’s just dark with blood.
You drop the groceries roughly on the table, “Shit Bucky. Are you-- You’re bleeding a lot!”
“I’m fine, doll.”
“I don’t think you are….” You panic, reaching for your phone, but remembering it’s deep in your purse across the room.
“You gotta-- you’re gonna have to sew it up, okay?”
“Let me just call an ambulance,” you get up to get your phone, but he grabs your wrist firmly.
“No. You can do this Y/n. I’ll walk you through it.” Something in his blue eyes assures you. You nod and Bucky has you cut his shirt off before he leads you through the cleaning of his wound. Your face felt hot at the sight of his beautiful broad chest, despite the mess around you. Bucky guided you, wincing and jaw ticking as you closed up his wound. By the end, your hands are red and sticky and you’re quite nauseous, but you didn’t care. The color was already back in his face and the sparkle back in his blue eyes. “You did good, doll.”
“I can’t believe I did that,” you say breathily. Bucky smiled fondly at you. You get up, wash your hands thoroughly and gently help Bucky up and to your couch. “You want something to eat? Let me get you some water.” You don’t wait for an answer before going to the kitchen. You bring him a bottle of water, a beer, and left over orange chicken from last night’s dinner- he inhaled all three while you cleaned and sanitized your kitchen floor.
“I should head out,” he stood up stiffly, favoring his wounded side. “I’m sorry about all this…” he gestured towards his wound and then to your kitchen. “It won't happen again. I’ll get my own first aid kit.”
You shrug, “You basically bought mine with as much as you use it.” You stick your hand out. “Phone.” Bucky eyes you warily before obeying. “How about next time you need to use my first aid kit, you just call first?”
Bucky smiles a lopsided, goofy smile, as you put your number in. “I think I can do that.”
Three days later, Bucky calls you around 7pm. Thirty minutes later there’s a knock at your door - not your window.
“What’s bleeding now--”
Instead of beat up and bleeding, Bucky stands before you in a black button up with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of take out. “Hey doll. I wanted to really apologize for everything and try to make it up to you,” he gives you a sheepish grin.
You can’t contain your own smile. “Well, orange chicken and flowers are a good start. Come in.”
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boxofbonesfic · 25 days ago
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Title: ωяιттєη ιη ƒℓєѕн αη∂ ѕтσηє
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Gargoyle Detective!Bucky x Actress!Reader
Rating: Explicit. MINORS, DNI!
Warnings: 40’s/50′s era racism, non-human racism, era appropriate misogyny, murder, violence, Detective!Bucky, Monster!AU, Detective!AU, eventual smut, unprotected sex, mentions of past sexual abuse
Summary:  Everyone is guilty of something in this city—no one leaves it without scars, without sin, especially not a silver screen starlet like yourself. But  Bucky thinks, perhaps, maybe you’re different. Which is why he can’t understand why they think you killed your husband, Brock Rumlow. But no one is blameless in this city, and there are two sides to everything, even the truth.
A/N: hey folks!! i’m back with part two of Written in Flesh and Stone, my entry to the wonderful @slothspaghettiwrites​ monsterfucker challenge!! i’m really excited to see what you all think, and also to take us one step closer to the smut 😂 thank you so much for reading! dividers by @whimsicalrogers​
Special thanks to the wonderful @curbitkirby​ for letting me yell, and for betaing this labor of love ❤️ This is a work of FICTION, and it contains Adult themes, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, half unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! MINORS, DNI!
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Tony Stark’s home is large and ostentatious, much like Tony himself.
Bucky doesn’t have clearance, not for this, but technically it’s public knowledge, so it’s fair game. Stark was willing to talk—at least, he’d said as much on the phone when Bucky called him—so he hopes the mogul-turned-studio owner will have insights that you didn’t. 
 Bucky regrets making you cry, regretted it all the way across town, but it’s too late to apologize now.
 Tony’s valet takes his car, and the big burly minotaur leaning against the door frame eyes him as he passes. His massive hands curl tightly around the handle of the equally massive hammer that rests between his feet. It’s a show of force that’s entirely unnecessary, meant to keep Bucky on his toes. 
 Perhaps it works for Stark's other party guests, the young actors and starlets he sees mingling in the foyer, the other rooms, but it doesn’t work on him. Bucky isn’t stupid—there’s nothing he has planned that would require them to tangle. 
The lounge he’s led to by the pretty little redhead is dimly lit, and when she informs him he can smoke, Bucky puts a cigarette between his lips and lights it, drawing deeply. 
 “Well, well, well. Fury’s personal pebble. What can I do you for?” Tony’s raucous voice disrupts the silence, and it’s all Bucky can do not to roll his eyes as he enters the room. A loose, red robe rests on his shoulders, left open to expose the brightly colored swim trunks that adorn his hips. “My apologies, I assumed this wouldn’t take too long, I do have guests this evening.” 
 Bucky ignores the dig, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I wanted to speak to you about some talent you used to employ.” 
 “Oh? Who’s caught your eye?” Tony waggles his eyebrows suggestively, but the aloof grin on his face disappears when he holds the picture up. 
 “Michelle Jones.” 
 Stark knocks back the remainder of the liquor in his glass, his expression suddenly dark. “Pretty girl. It’s a real shame what happened to her.” He can hear the strain in Tony’s casual tone, the force with which it’s delivered and maintained. “A real shame,” he repeats, swirling the ice around the empty glass as he stares out at the pool unseeingly—Bucky has a feeling he’s not watching his guests drunkenly drench themselves.
 “Can you tell me about her?” Bucky produces the pad of paper from his pocket, and the pen from behind his ear. 
 “Yeah, I mean… sweet kid. Came from a good family, knew her way around. Never thought she’d get caught up in something so…” Tony pauses, looking for the right descriptor. “Shady.” 
 Bucky quirks an eyebrow. “Shady, how?” 
 “Jesus man, you saw her. Carved her up like a goddamn Christmas turkey.” He had seen the crime scene photos—the Order’s symbol carved cleanly into her chest. 
 “Was she involved with… anyone in particular?” Bucky asks—he can do little without names, and Tony knows it. Bucky watches him hesitate.
 “I wouldn’t say involved. She works—worked for my studio, and I consider myself a pretty fair boss. That’s why MJ said no when Klimt tried to poach her.” Tony scoffs. “Comes back from the brink of failure and suddenly thinks he’s a goddamn big-shot.” Tony walks over to his desk, nimbly removing the cap from an expensive looking crystal decanter. “Scotch?” 
 “No, thank you. Klimt. He owns…” He leads Tony to answer, he knows he knows it, and Bucky just wants confirmation. Tony’s easy enough to manipulate, Bucky sees, when you make him feel like he’s the smartest person in the room. 
 “Oasis Studios. Filed chapter 11 last year, and then… bam. Five hits in a row, and they’re raking in money hand over fucking fist. And then he comes to my talent and tries to- mind you, I pay far better, and I don’t do that ‘separate but equal’ bullshit on my sets,” He adds, capping the bottle roughly. 
 “Hmm. So he tries to poach some talent, and she ends up dead.” Bucky notes. It’s all too close to be nothing. Her name in Brock’s notebook, the symbol there and on her chest—If he hadn’t been certain when he’d found it in his desk, he certainly was now. 
 Brock Rumlow had murdered Michelle Jones—and then someone had killed him. What Bucky didn’t know was why. 
 “Shitty coincidence, but it is a coincidence, I’m sure.” Tony takes a swallow. 
 “It’s not.” Bucky can practically see the bright connecting threads running between the three people in his mind. He’d not met Johann Klimt, nor heard of him before this, before you, but he knows he’s involved. 
 Just not how deeply. 
 “Thank you for your time, Mr. Stark.” Bucky leans forward to stub the cigarette out in the ashtray on the table, and smoke curls around his fingers. 
 “So that’s it, then?” Tony says, and Bucky nods. Tony’s gaze is brooding as he watches Bucky rise to his feet, shaking the wrinkles from his duster. 
 “I got what I needed.” 
 “And what was that?”
 “A lead.” It’s as he’s making for the door that Tony speaks again.
 “You know, don’t you? Who killed her. They never caught him.” There is anger in the way his fingers tense around the glass, though his voice is steady. 
 “I have my suspicions,” Bucky replies carefully, he can’t tip his hand, not yet. Not when he doesn’t even know what the stakes are. “But if it is who I think it is, you’ve nothing to worry about.” He hears the soft clink of ice in the glass as Tony shifts. 
“Someone got him already.”
 “It’s almost midnight.” 
Fury sounds irritated behind him, but Bucky doesn’t bother looking as he thumbs through the ongoing case-file of Michelle Jones- just to make sure. 
 “You’re the one who insists on being here every time I need to go back through files,” Bucky retorts without turning. “Don’t you have a wife or something to go home to?” His claws catch against the worn edges of the files, clicking as he shuffles through. 
 “Or something.” Bucky doesn’t hear the sound of footsteps behind him and sighs irritatedly, his tail flicking as he glares over his shoulder at Fury. “I want to know what you found.” He says, his one visible eye trained hard on Bucky’s face. “I want to know what these two cases have to do with each other.” He points down at Michelle Jones’ file, the papers spread across the table in the center of the records room. 
 Bucky fishes the notebook out of his jacket, tossing it down for Nick to see. “Found this hidden in Rumlow’s desk.” 
He lets Fury flip through it, and it doesn’t take long for the sigil of the Order to make his breath catch. 
 “This is what they carved on her chest.” Fury scrubs a hand down his face, his expression doleful. “Poor kid.” Bucky can hear the rustle of papers as he looks for more. “Did she know? Rumlow’s wife.”
 Bucky doesn’t know why hearing you referred to as such irks him, it’s not like it isn’t correct, isn’t factual, but he despises it anyway. “I don’t think so. She’d seen it, the list, I think. But the symbol? No.” 
 Fury walks over to the table, and the headshot of the young starlet finds its way to his fingers. He looks at it for a moment before his gaze returns to Bucky. “You think Rumlow killed her?” 
 “I’m certain of it.” He narrows his eyes as he scans the files again. “You heard of Oasis studios?” 
 Fury scoffs. “Of course.”
 “Owner tried to poach both of them, Jones and Rumlow—only Rumlow accepted.” Bucky sniffs. “Funny coincidence, don’t you think? She says no, ends up with seven fallen angels sliced into her chest, and he doesn’t.” 
 “No, but he’s still dead,” Fury reminds him. “Just as dead as she is. Doesn’t prove he killed her. You got nothin’ but a hunch.”
  Bucky scowls. “First you hire me and assume I just know the fuckin’ truth, and then when I do, you don’t believe it.”
 “I never said I didn’t believe you,” the other man replies irritatedly. “I said it wasn’t enough. The Mayor and the Governor’ll have my head on a plate if all I walk in with is a damn notebook and your word, and you know it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, before changing the subject. “The Lamia. He said Rumlow’d been… escorted out by some big guys- I had the boys look into it.” Fury produces two pictures from his own coat, mugshots. 
“This one here goes by Ronan the Accuser- got some tattoos that are… thematically similar to the Order sigil. Spotted near the docks with one Brock Rumlow the night of the murder—about two hours before.” He taps the second photo. “This one? Korath.”
 “You want me to look into them instead of Klimt,” Bucky replies flatly, balling his fists. 
 “I can’t get you Klimt with circumstantial links, Barnes. Bring me something concrete, and then maybe I can get a judge to get us a warrant. But right now? Trying to hire actors isn’t a crime, and it doesn’t make him a murderer.” He strokes his chin. “But Rumlow’s wife, she’s got motive.” 
 Bucky tenses at the mention of you. “I told you she didn’t know.” 
 “And I told you your word means next to shit—she’s got a flimsy alibi, and no witnesses. Get me something concrete, and I’ll turn the eye away from her.” He looks at Bucky skeptically. “Don’t tell me you’re messin’ around with her?”
 “No,” Bucky replies, shaking his head. “Of course not.” I just think about it. 
 “Look into Ronan and Korath, see what you find.” There’s an air of finality in his voice that gets Bucky’s hackles up. He’s not a police dog, and he doesn’t work for the department. “Get me a solid lead on Klimt, and we’ll revisit it. For now, you drop it.” 
 “I don’t work for you.” 
 “No, you don’t work for me. I suggest you remember it, lover boy, or you’ll be out on your ass watching as my men close the investigation, and the conclusions they come to will be the ones that stick.” The next part of his threat is unspoken, but Bucky hears it well enough. Even if it’s wrong. 
 Bucky grits his teeth. He should walk away now, he knows he should—there’s something big here, something lurking under the placid surface. He knows it has nothing to do with him, your innocence or your guilt, but… the undeniable urge is still with him. Everyone’s guilty of something, and though Bucky doesn’t know what your crime is, he doubts its murder. 
 As he storms out of the precinct, Fury’s voice carries behind him.
 “Tell me what you find on them, Barnes!”
 The Griffin’s Wing is just as desolate as the last time Bucky was there, men and dems alike drinking their worries away and casting themselves into pleasurable, fuzzy oblivion. He’d rather be back searching your home for additional information, but when he’d asked, Fury had replied he had “someone else” on it. 
 He scowls, draining the gin Kenneth’s put out for him. He doesn’t need to talk to anyone, to lay the foundations for later work, not tonight, no. Tonight, Bucky’s here to watch. He’s careful not to drink too much, he needs a clear head for what’s to come. He’s waiting, waiting for one—or both—of the enforcers to show. He just needs a trail, even if it’s cold. 
 Bucky drains his glass, a sour expression still painted on his features, his tail whipping back and forth behind him. He’s been there three hours already, silently nursing his poison of choice when he’d rather be-
With her. The thought is unbidden, and he shakes his head as if to dismiss it.
 It’s almost ten when the sight of blue skin and tattoos makes him glance up. Bucky watches the man settle against the bar, banging his fist against the wooden top. 
 “Whiskey, Kenny. The bottle,” he adds, his eyes scanning the bar. Bucky tilts his hat down over his face, looking down at his own glass. 
 “Holy man like you?” Kenneth replies sarcastically, his silvery eyes narrowed as he forks it over reluctantly. “Thought you didn’t drink, Ronan. Sullies the mind, ain’t that what your type says?” 
 “It’s not for me, goat,” He spits. 
 From his pocket, Ronan produces a long, slender knife, flipping it carefully through his fingers. Kenneth’s nostrils flare and his goat ears flatten themselves to the sides of his head. 
 “Remind me how much you pay for protection, again?” He asks casually, and the threat is clear. 
 Kenneth’s flapping gums snap shut loudly as he wipes at an already clean spot on the counter. “Enjoy the bottle.” 
 “I’ll pass that along.” He tilts his head and smirks, before gripping the bottle by the neck. “Have a good night, Kenny. Say hi to the missus.” 
 Bucky waits a few minutes before slinking out of the bar after him. He keeps to the shadows, cigarette smoke concealing his face as he trails Ronan. He’d thought he would head towards the city, but he doesn’t. 
Instead, the Kree heads for the docks, the smell of salt growing stronger and stronger in the air until he can hear the cries of gulls and the sound of water beating heavily against the shore. 
 Nothing good happens here, Bucky knows. He’d spent enough of his own childhood being told never to play here, never to come. Only men’s business at the docks, he could remember his father saying. Ain’t no place for a kid.
 And when he’d stopped coming home from his men’s business, leaving Bucky and his mother to fend for themselves, his mother had been woefully unsurprised when his body had turned up, tangled in fishing nets. 
 Ronan slips easily into the shipyard, and Bucky stays behind, melting into the shadows until he’s sure the other man won’t see him. It stinks of old fish and corroded metal, and it leaves an acrid taste in Bucky’s mouth. 
 Ronan crosses the yard with pointed steps, walking towards the ship-building crane, where a shipping container rests at the top. A light flickers out from between the cracks in the rusted metal. The steps are slick and creaky when Bucky approaches them, and though Ronan is halfway up, he doesn’t dare risk them. 
 Instead, he spreads his wings, shaking them out eagerly. He doesn’t use them often—not inside the city, simpler just to drive—but he can’t help the exhilaration he feels as he soars upward, landing quietly just behind the container. The shadows cradle him, his dark suit and gray wings fading into it as he creeps closer, his tail curled anxiously around his leg. 
 The acrid scent of cigar smoke stains the air, overriding the scent of salt and rust. He can smell expensive cologne, only just masking the sweat and nervousness that rests cloyingly on his tongue. He watches Ronan hoist the whiskey as another dem with long, dragging arms and scaled skin inspects him before allowing him entry, and following him inside himself. A guard, hired muscle. 
 But hired by who?
 Bucky creeps to the doorway, watching through a crack as Ronan deposits the bottle on a table, and then leans against the wall with folded arms. A man in a bowler hat and an expensive looking suit sits at the head, a silver pocket watch in his hand. 
 “Gentlemen, thank you for coming,” His English is accented—German—and Bucky watches him tap a gloved finger against the rough hewn wood. “As you know there’s been a… hiccough in our arrangement.”
 “Klimt, you said this was foolproof,” one of the men argues. “You said you’d done this before! Well, it doesn’t bloody seem like it!” 
 There’s a murmur of agreement, and the one he’d called Klimt smiles, though it isn’t pleasant. The corners of his mouth turn up, but his cheeks barely move, as though the muscle  is dead, frozen in place. Klimt as in Johann Klimt? Of Oasis studios?
 “Then perhaps you’ll volunteer?” Klimt replies jovially, and the man falls silent, staring angrily down at his empty glass. “As I thought.” He's still grinning unnaturally as he uncaps the bottle. “Leon, please, I insist.” He pours liberally before setting the bottle back in the center. “I do have a solution, but I fear we must await the end of this rather tedious police investigation.”  
 “You have another Hand lined up already, Johann?” Another man asks eagerly. 
 “Of course. Ronan is as devout as myself—he’s seen the miracles wrought by the angels themselves.” All the faces turn to Ronan, who nods. “He’s more than fit to be the new Hand.” 
 Bucky tries to recall everything he’s heard, everything he’s read as another man clears his throat. 
 “You said the same of Rumlow. And of his little colored pet.” 
 “Rumlow was a drunk and a braggard and his own foolishness is what led to his demise before he could reach his full potential,” Klimt replies decisively, his cold eyes moving slowly over every man in attendance as though sizing them up, assessing their worth. No, Bucky thinks, his tail twining and untwining around his thigh. Their worth to him. Ronan was Klimt’s hired muscle, and his soon to be…Hand, whatever that meant. “And as for the wife… Talented, certainly. But not a loss.”
 “A pity,” says another. “His skill with the first offering was quite… impressive.” 
 Bucky’s stomach turns as the realization clicks—Michelle had been a sacrifice, and Brock the executioner. His fists clench hard and he remains as still and silent as he can. There’s a knife in Ronan’s pocket, but he’s not stupid enough to think it’s the only weapon in play. 
 “Have you any idea who killed him?” 
 To Bucky’s surprise, he shakes his head. “None.”
 They don’t hear his departure—though it’s not enough to have heard them, he knows now the evidence he’s looking for. He’s out of time tonight, he can already feel himself slowing down, growing weary, his mind going fuzzy around the edges. 
 He only just makes it back to his apartment, where he draws the curtains and settles on his balcony, looking out at the city grimly. There are two stops Bucky needs to make, first to the medical examiner’s office, and the second… 
 To you. 
 “It’s… a bit unusual, to be sure,” Strange says, eyeing him skeptically. 
 Bucky remains silent, waiting for his answer. He needs to see the body, Brock’s body. Officially, the cause of death had been listed as a fight at the shipyard, between Brock and an unknown dem of considerable strength—which could have been any of the thousand burly dock workers employed by the various shipping companies. 
 “But I suppose it is still here, and you are part of the investigation…” He strokes his beard, and Bucky tries not to look too irritated. Strange is egotistical on a good day, and if anything, he’s enjoying Bucky’s discomfort. “Follow me.” 
 The entire building is cold, and it only gets colder as Bucky follows Strange down to the morgue. As he does, he goes over the report as best he can remember. Chest caved in with considerable force, arms broken, and face beaten to a bruised, bloody pulp, like someone had taken a lead pipe to him. 
 The lights buzz loudly above them when Strange flicks them on, his gloved hands squeaking against the switch. The room itself is frigid, though Bucky isn’t bothered by it. His breath hangs in the air, a ghostly mist while the good doctor wheels Rumlow’s body out from storage. 
 “I feel I should warn you, Detective, it’s not a pretty sight.” 
 He’s seen the pictures, he knows. “No,” Bucky agrees. “It’s not.” The sheet is pulled back, and Rumlow’s mouth hangs open, his tongue swollen and purple against the broken shards of his teeth. “What happened here?” 
 “Considerable impact,” Strange replies, and his fingers travel over the rigid, misshapen flesh. “Someone did not like our leading man.” 
 “And you think it was a fight?” Bucky asks, his eyes narrowing as he thinks.  Brock hadn’t been a small man, and a head to head fight might not have made such easy work. The only people Bucky can think of that might even want to eliminate him had been in the shipyard the night before- and they hadn’t killed him. Someone else had. 
 The question was who. It was clear Brock had been meant to be a lynchpin in Klimt’s plans, the executioner, his Hand. So why then was he lying in the morgue, his body bent and broken, and the great destiny he’d tried to acquire for himself thwarted so violently? 
 It doesn’t add up, not at all. 
 “It’s the most likely possibility, considering…where the body was found, and Brock’s rather… checkered past.” 
 “He was found at the shipyard.”
 “Yes, beside the crane, the one they’re tearing down.” 
 Bucky looks down at the corpse again. “Strange, though. If it was a fight, big man like Rumlow wouldn’t have taken it lying down.” Bucky’s not a doctor, not by a long shot, but he’s been roughed up enough times to know that something’s… off. “Arms’re broken, but what about his hands? Any defensive wounds?” 
 “Hmm.” Stephen snaps on a new pair of gloves, his critical eye turning from Bucky back to the body on the table. Gingerly, he picks up Rumlow’s left arm, carefully extending the crooked, pulverized fingers. “No, none. Though he couldn’t have thrown a punch, not with his hands like this.” 
 “Doesn’t that seem odd to you? Man with a reputation like his, not getting a single punch in?” Bucky produces the crime scene photo from his pocket, placing it on the cold metal table next to the body. In the background, the hulking, rusty form of the old ship-building crane looms, it’s rusted-rungs bent and broken with age. In the center though, if he squints, he can see a few of them broken, just above the body—like something had crashed into them.
 Or onto them. 
 “What if he fell?” Bucky says suddenly, his eyes bright as they snap up to the doctor’s. “What if there never was a fight?” He slams his hands onto the table. “He’s ambushed, he falls- no time to fight back.” 
 “His face-” Stephen stops himself. “He hit the support beams. On his way down. And his chest… when he fell onto the scrap….” He’s muttering to himself now, repositioning the body, scribbling notes onto paper. “His hands were covered in rust, I’d assumed from the scrap metal pile he’d been found on- however, it's entirely likely he could have been trying to hold on during his fall, breaking both arms, hands…"
 They’d assumed a dem had worked him over good, before disposing of him in the shipyard, when the answer was much more simple- someone had pushed him. Pushed him off of the crane. 
 “It’s someone he trusted,” Strange replies. “Someone he knew.” 
 Bucky’s chest clenches tightly. 
 “I know.” 
 It’s late by the time he makes it from the examiner’s office to your house. Bucky watches the lights flick on one by one as you rush to the door, where he stands, his hands shoved into his pockets. He’s stomping out his cigarette when you wrench open the door, your fingers clutching your dressing gown closed. 
 “D-Detective, I wasn’t expecting you. It’s… rather late.” 
 “I know. I just need a few moments of your time.” He tries not to be taken in by your wide-eyed gaze, the way your teeth sink into your lower lip as you nod, stepping reluctantly aside to allow him entry. 
 “I didn’t think I would… see you again,” You say softly. “Commissioner Fury told me you… Well, regardless, how can I be of assistance?” You ask, looking at him over your shoulder as you lead him back to the sitting room. 
 “I’d like to ask you again about the last time you saw Brock.” 
 Your jaw tightens, and he watches your hands curl into fists before relaxing.  “I… alright.” 
 “You said you fought, before. Care to give me a clearer picture?” 
 “I told you everything that happened,” your voice comes out strained. Defensive. “He wanted to accept the Oasis offer, and I didn’t, and he backhanded me, and left.” 
 “But that isn’t the last time you saw him, was it, sweetheart?” He hates himself. Hates himself for not seeing it, for being too sweet on you to notice. “You saw him again. Late that night, didn’t you?” 
 “No.” You say firmly, looking away. “I-I was on set that night until quite late, I can have Ian confirm it—”
 “And when you left the studio?” Bucky prods, seeing your eyes flick back and forth between him and the door, as if calculating your escape. “It was late. Did you go home?”
 “You know, when I first got here, I wanted to think the best of you. You’re sweet, your husband is dead,” he begins, putting another cigarette between his lips. “And then I found the book.” Bucky produces Rumlow’s notebook from his pocket, and your brows furrow. “And I knew you’d seen it before.” 
 “N-no, I-I—”
 “The names. You knew them. You’d seen them.” He presses, and a choked sob tears from your throat as tears gather in your wide, pretty eyes. “Did you know? What he did?” He flips to the list, and throws the book down onto the table. “What he did to Michelle?” 
 At her name, the tears flow freely, staining your cheeks. 
 “No.” You whisper, “Not… not until after.” Your wet eyes flick up to his. “I found the book after… and then I knew. I… I don’t know why. Brock wasn’t… he wasn’t a good man, Detective, and I knew that.” You wipe at your face with trembling hands. “No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to make our money, to keep our house in order, to… it wasn’t enough.” Your fists clench. 
“A-a-and after the funeral, when I found the notebook…” Your voice cracks. “I knew. I knew what he’d done, and…”
 “You saw your name.” Bucky confirms. He hadn’t shown it to you, keeping the page still—but on the back, Brock had scrawled your name, the last addition to the list of victims meant to prop up Oasis’ success. 
 “Yes.” You croak. “And I followed him to the shipyard, and…” You hug yourself, another sob wracking you as more tears leak from your puffy eyes. “I pushed him.” 
 Bucky remains silent for a moment, and he’s sure you can hear his heart hammering in his chest as he watches you. 
 You weren’t an accomplice—
 You were a victim. 
 “I need you to come with me—”
 “That won’t be necessary, Detective. Mrs. Rumlow will be coming with us.” Bucky turns abruptly. 
 Klimt is draped lazily in the entrance, Ronan stationed behind him. He’s not sure how they managed to enter without him hearing it, without him smelling them, but he watches you recoil in terror. 
 “Now, now, we needn’t make it difficult. I do apologize, Mrs. Rumlow. I fear Brock’s made a mess of things, even in death.” 
 Instinctively, Bucky places himself between you, his tail whipping back and forth as he sizes them up. Klimt’s not a fighting man, that much is clear- but Ronan… 
The Kree smiles, the long, thin knife flipping dexterously between his fingers. Klimt’s strangely luminous eyes fix on Bucky, and he narrows his own. 
 “I-I-I don’t understand,” you whimper, and Klimt smiles that too-wide grin. 
 “Oh darling, we’re doing something much bigger than motion pictures.” He cuts his eyes at Ronan. “Dispatch of the detective.” 
 Ronan surges forward wordlessly, and Bucky jumps back, nearly tripping over the coffee table as he dodges the needle sharp blade. He’d been seen, followed, but when? Bucky doesn’t have time to retrace his steps, not when it’s all he can do to avoid being skewered. His skin is thick, tough—but the bright silver knife slides through easily when he throws up a hand to block it, and Bucky curses, watching as Ronan grins savagely, his tongue sliding up the metal to taste his blood.
 “A fine sacrifice you’ll make!” Ronan crows, silver flashing in the light as he advances. 
 “No!” Your sharp cry distracts him, and Bucky growls at the sight of Klimt wrenching you up by your arm, seemingly undisturbed by your efforts to free yourself. He’s dragging you toward the door, away from Bucky—
 White hot pain lances through him as the knife lands, sinking deep into his side. He can taste blood, and when he coughs, it’s wet and coppery. His ears are ringing, and when the blade slides from his flesh, it finds another home, and another-
 He lashes out at Ronan, his fist connecting with the other man’s face, and when he doubles over, Bucky headbutts him, his horns raking bloody lines down the Kree’s face and neck. 
 He can’t see, can’t think, there are only sounds, colors, instincts. 
 “No, you little bitch—” Klimt snarls, and when Bucky sees him, he’s holding his face, a hand over his eye as he screams. You’re shoving yourself away from him, something black and shining  in your hand-
 Ronan crumples, and an angry roar practically shakes the house as Klimt rages. 
 “You little cunt, you’ve no idea what you’ve done!” He seethes, and you train the gun on him. He lowers his hand slowly, and Bucky’s stomach turns as the waxy skin of Klimt’s face hangs raggedly down like torn paper. And beneath it, his skull gleams crimson, his cobalt blue eye rolling in the socket. Your hands tremble from the weight of the pistol, his skin ragged under your fingernails, and when Klimt steps closer, you pull back the hammer. 
 Bucky coughs wetly, thick blood bubbling up between his lips, and Klimt laughs. “What’s it going to be, darling? Me, or him?” 
 Bucky can barely hear from the ringing in his ears, and his vision blurs in and out as he tries to focus. 
 Klimt edges away, his footsteps quickening as he reaches the door. 
 The gun falls heavily to the carpeted floor as you collapse to your knees next to him, shaking. 
 Your hands are so soft as they travel over him, stripping the blood soaked coat from his shoulders. The entirety of his shirt is red when he looks down, blood still pumping sluggishly from the wounds in his side and belly. 
 “Wh-what do I do? D-detective—”
 “C-car,” he manages, and you nod, your little pink tongue darting out to wet your lips. “Not s-sa-fe here…” 
 You’re so much smaller than he is, he can’t believe it when you manage to sit him up. You pull hard on his arms, and Bucky hisses and groans with pain as the two of you drag him to his feet. You’re almost too little for him to rest his weight on, but you do, paying no heed to the bright blooms of blood that stain your satin robe. 
 The two of you almost fall as you help him down the steps to the car, and when he rolls almost drunkenly into the passenger seat, he looks up at you. Your hair is wild, the moon framing your curls like a halo.
 Bucky laughs deliriously, more copper coating his tongue. “An angel,” he mutters, licking sticky lips. “An angel.” 
 He fades in and out of darkness as you fumble for the key in his pocket, and the street lights are practically blinding as you fly down the street. 
 “Stay with me, Detective,” he can hear your voice as though it’s far away. “Stay with me, please.”
 And then, blissful, sweet nothing. 
ραят тняєє
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mariahthelioness29 · 7 months ago
Friend U can Keep (F.U.C.K) 
Bucky and you have a friends with benefits type of relationship. He wants more will you accept his proposition? 
Bucky Barnes x Black!reader 
words: 3k
Warnings: Smut, sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, fluff and comfort, implied knife kink ( not from Bucky though). 
Please this is an 18+ story, so if you are less than 18 years old. DO NOT INTERACT. 
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Thank you @maddiestundentwritergaines for doing this amazing mood board based on this story
@sopranomaestra93 @xbuchananbarnes @lesbians-love-samwilson @siancore @blackmissfrizzle @liquorlaughslove  @afriendlyblackhottie @kissthatlifeaway @whiskey-cokenfanfic @bucky-the-thigh-slayer
Bucky sighs entering the quint jet, 
It’s nice to have the quintjet back, after so many missions on their own resources.
He is ready to go home and most important to see you. 
He picks his wallet and traces your face on the picture with his fingers. 
It was when you concentrated on your work, at your home studio. He took a photo of you with your polaroid camera 
He bite his lip, reminiscing on how you met.
Bucky rolls his neck and closes his eyes, thinking of you. 
He was just moving in. 
Bucky had not much, he was nervous and excited for the first time in a long time, he is going to have his own apartment, his space, his belongings.
You interrupted from his thoughts, with your airy voice,tapping him on the shoulder 
“I’m sorry, Sergeant Barnes ? is it you?”
He  closed his hand in a fist and took a deep breath. 
Ever since he was acquitted for his Winter Soldier past, people either really love him or hate him. He is not in the mood to find out whether he is going to have hot coffee poured on him or a person thanking him for his service. 
“Give me the patience and not the strength”, Bucky pleaded in his head while turning around giving you the meanest poker face ever. 
“Yeah”, Bucky said with a frown and his features all square. 
Your smile falters a little at his tone of voice and his face. 
“I..I’m sorry to bother you, I’m going to be your neighbor, my great grandfather Jonathan y/l/n, you and Steve Rogers saved him from a Hydra facility in Auschwitz, thank you”. You smile nervously, barely lookin at him.
His blue eyes soften and he checks you out discreetly. 
Brown skin, nice curves,a gentle nervous smile, he can smell your perfume, its cocoa with something else and an aura of peace. You are warmth, lightness personified and he is stunned. He bops his throat, bringing himself to reality. 
“I remember him, glad to see he has a family and thank you, sorry for my demeanor not everyone is happy about my acquittal.  Bucky cast his eyes down ashamed at how crass he was. 
“Yeah, I’m sorry to hear that,none of it was your fault. You fiddle with your hands. Well my apartment is two doors down,I am a musician and a sound engineer, if it gets too loud, please let me know or if you need a cup of sugar”, you shrug smiling. 
Bucky smiles “ I’ll see you around,neighbor, when I need a cup of sugar”. 
“Y/N”, you extend your hand to him. 
“Y/N, he repeats, liking the way your name rolls off his tongue and how your hand feels against his, shaking your hand then letting it go slowly. 
“Bucky is alright,I stopped being Sergeant Barnes a long time ago”. 
You nod,
“See you around,..Bucky”, you breathe out, only looking at him through your lashes.
Bucky smiles on the inside.He has an effect on you and for some reasons, that satisfies him. “See you around, y/n”
Sam wakes him up 
“We arrived, sleeping beauty”. 
“Damn”, Sam grabs Bucky’s wallet faster than Bucky can grab it 
Sam smirkes and wiggles his eyebrows “gotta be quicker than that”. 
Bucky just scowls at him. 
“ Damn, she fine as hell, is this y/n, no wonder you head over heels for her”. 
Bucky breathes harshly, losing his patience. 
“Give me my wallet, back, Sam”, Bucky sneers. 
“Today, it’s Valentine’s day, you're gonna give her a special gift”, Sam smiles looking at Bucky up and down.  
“That’s none of your damn business”, Bucky snaps at him, shaking his head and snatching his wallet of Sam’s hand
“Fine don’t tell me”, Sam snaps back 
Bucky rolls his eyes.
“I do have a gift” 
“ She’s been talking about this sound mixing console, how it is the best new thing whatever, I bought it for her”. 
“I arranged it, tomorrow so that she can talk with the guy to install it”. 
I  hope she likes it”, Bucky traces his lip with his thumb. 
Sam squeeze his shoulder “don’t sweat it, she’ll love it, I’m glad you're seeing someone” 
“ C’mon, let’s get this over with so you can see y/n and so she can take the grumpy out of your old ass”. 
Bucky just rolls his eyes smiling and shoves Sam gently.  
“What are you going to give Sharon ? ” “ A set of knives that we plan to use later in the night” ,Sam gives him a devilish grin. 
Bucky groans “too much information”.
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Bucky just changed into a black t-shirt, some jeans and his black boots.
Sam proposes he doesn’t shave, he looks good like that. 
“Hey, Sam, I got you something”, Bucky takes a small box out of his locker and hands it to him. 
“Buck…”.Sam eyes widened, taken aback. Bucky beamed at him. Sam opens it and it is a signet ring with a red falcon encrusted. 
Sam almost tackles him into the hug”.
Bucky laughs but hugs him tight
“Thank you for being my friend”. They separate.
“Now, I feel bad for not getting you anything, this is really pretty”, looking at the ring on his finger
“Just have a plan of attack, next time, that’ll be my gift”, He pats him on the back. 
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Bucky goes straight to the venue, at the speed of light with his motorcycle.
He arrives just in time. The venue is packed with people. Light flashes in different colors; blue, pink,green and red. 
You come in with your band and also your friends.Your breath hitch when you see him and he locks eyes with you, licking his bottom lip. 
Centering yourself, you pick your guitar. You play your guitar according to the notes, 
Bucky always loves it when you perform, He feels inthraced when you sing like a siren singing to a sailor, more than willing to be the sailor. 
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That dress you have on, the way it shines with the stage lights, the way it hug your curves. Bucky is seconds away from losing composure so he grabs a cigarette, smoking looking you dead in the eye while you sing: 
Is your favorite color blue? 'Cause you're somethin' like my crip-tonight
I think I want you to maybe meet me at my crib tonight
Might not be the one but I'm definitely the prototype
Let's get down and get it on the floor, floor
You try not to look at him, but his stare is calling you. 
You look at him and he is staring while he smokes the cigarette in the red light. It makes your heart jump a couple of beats  even though you hate it when he smokes. 
You sing:
I wanna be a friend you can keep. 
 your back up singers sing (F.U.C.K., yeah, a friend you can keep, oh, oh)
I wanna be a friend you can keep then you sing  (F.U.C.K., yeah, a friend you can keep, oh, oh) while you wink at him. Bucky does a french inhale with the smoke, devouring with you with his eyes, while you sing:  
I wanna be a friend you can keep (F.U.C.K., yeah, a friend you can keep, oh, oh)
I wanna be a friend you can keep (F.U.C.K., yeah, a friend you can keep, oh, oh)
I wanna be a friend you can keep (F.U.C.K., yeah, a friend you can keep, oh, oh)
The venue was full, people sang along with others
But you can only focus on him.
Bucky smiles and sways a little with the rhythm and even sings  “F.U.C.K, friend you can keep”.
You hype the audience, keep performing,closing your eyes while singing the chorus and playing the guitar.  
Bucky beams with pride seeing you do what you do best, the audiences enthralled in your singing, cheering and singing along. 
You give him your doe eyes at him and sing: 
Let me be the friend that you can keep (Oh-oh)
Pinky swear to keep you next to me (Oh-oh)
Like a charm that fits you perfectly (Oh-oh)
Oh, oh
Bucky heart does somersaults, because that is all he wants being your friend and more. He cheers along the audience. 
You feel your heartbeat out your chest, seeing him smile and cheer with the audience.
Let me be the friend that you can keep (Oh-oh)
Pinky swear to keep you next to me (Oh-oh)
We can frame the bedroom memories (Oh-oh)
Ooh, ooh-ooh (Oh-oh)
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh (Oh-oh)
Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
F.U.C.K me
The crowd erupts in cheers once you perform your last song.
You get to Bucky, he grabs you flush to him. 
He kisses you soft and you smile into the kiss. 
“You were on time”, you remark
“How could I be late, I’m your biggest fan”, Bucky answers 
“Happy Valentines” 
You kiss him again, hugging him.
“Happy Valentines”.
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Bucky burst through the door of his apartment, kicks the door close 
 you jump on him, he catches you wrapping your legs around his waist. 
He paws at your ass, walking you to the nearest surface, you kiss rough, searing, tongues tangling each other.
He separates to take a breath, sitting you on his dining table. 
You’re breathing is erratic 
Bucky leans in and he traces your cheekbone, with his thumb, looking at you mesmerizing at your features.
His blue eyes  look brighter under the lights above his dinner table. 
You’re breathing is less erratic and you nuzzle into his caress. 
This is different, instead of  almost ripping your clothes, he takes your dress off slowly, he settles between your legs, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you along your jaw, your neck. 
You lift your head up,giving him more access.
“Bucky”., you pant, while he kisses your neck.
He grabs your face in his hands and kisses you slowly but with a hot blazing passion, slipping his tongue in.soft. He makes out with you, you whimper and mewl into his mouth.
He takes off your panties, you lift your hips off the table and he slides them off you, leaving them on the floor. 
He keeps kissing you and then puts his forehead against yours, rubbing your clit, with his metal fingers. 
You throw your head back, airy moans escape you. You can hear the sounds of wetness. 
He takes one nipple into his mouth, humming, eyes closed. 
“Fuck”, you breath out. 
“Please fuck”, you plead him.
He chuckles. 
“Let me enjoy you, I’m in no rush”, he says with his husky voice. With that he pushes his metallic fingers in you. 
With one hand you support yourself on the table and the other fly to the back of his neck.The coldness of those fingers. The way he moves them against that spot, has you reeling. You breathe in each other.You can barely kiss him, you’re mouth agape, his mouth is slightly open, your breath hitching.He keeps pumping his fingers in you, you trash against his hand, your moans getting louder.
He pulls them out of you, licking them clean, relishing the taste.
You whine at the sight.
Spreading your legs wider, he goes onto his knees. He kisses your inner thighs, looking up to you. He goes to town and starts sucking your lower lips, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth. 
You still his head and use his face, grunting and moaning.
Bucky gropes your thighs, moaning,eyes closed, rubbing himself through his jeans. He takes a deep breath, smiling,beard wet with your juices. He gets up and takes you into his arms, bringing you to his room. 
He lays you on the bed gently instead of just dropping or laying you down rough 
“It’s not fair, I am all naked and you still have clothes on, take it off”, you pout at him
Bucky bite his lip and unbuckles his belt, taking it out of the loops and throwing it on the ground. 
You stand on your knees, you take his shirt off. You lick your lips and trace his scar where flesh meets metal with your tongue, looking up to him. You see the feral look in his eyes, while you do it and it makes you more wet. 
He grunts and takes his pants off . Stepping out of them, he crawls between your legs, he stands up on his knees.
“Fuck me”, you bit your lip and peer up to him. 
“I want to fuck you and make love to you”, Bucky confesses, slapping his tip against your clit. 
Your hips move searching for more friction, you moan. Your eyes widen, letting a silence scream out, gripping the sheets, when he enters you. 
Your eyes still widen at the confession, he cages you in his arms. 
Instead of the unforgiving pace, he takes his time, thrusting at slow pace, groaning when he pulls out and moaning when he slams in. 
You grip the sheets and moan arching of the bed. You feel his cold and warm hands all over you.
Groping your breast, your thighs , putting pressure on your lower stomach, flicking your clit with his metal thumb.
His moans and growls make you throb which makes him moan more.  
His hand settles around your throat, forcing you to look him in the eye. It’s too much you squirm and close your eyes.
“Look at me”, he rasp, while he gives you concentrated sharp thrusts. 
“It’s so fucking good”, you cry out. 
“Fuck”, he groans as your pussy spasm around him. 
Bucky sits, his back against the headboard. You sit on his cock, you both groaned at the feeling. 
You start bouncing up and down, moaning loud cause he feels so deep.
Bucky lays his head between your breast, wrapping you in his arms. 
His breathing is erratic, he looks up to you and you slow your movements, undulating your hips slowly. 
You kiss him slowly all tongue, he whimpers in your mouth while he grabs your hips moving you back and forth. 
He looks at you in awe, mouth slightly agape, while you put your ass on him. 
He helps you go up and down, gripping your hips till your thighs shake, you cum with a loud, dragged out high pitched mention of his name.
Bucky slouched on the bed and grabs you flush to him and hammers up to you. 
Your moans are choked and your eyes are rolled to the back of your head. 
He moans against your ear, telling you how god you feel, how he missed you, how he jerks off in that cheap motel thinking of you until he tenses and growls, filling you up.
“Fuck, I love you”, Bucky moans against your lips when he cums in you. 
You hummed feeling the warmth, you like the feeling of him in you and his cum plugged in you.  
You look at him with wide eyes, panting, stunned once you register he said he loves you.  
“Bucky”.. You are taken aback.
“I do, I know we have this arrangement of being friends with benefits, but I want more, I need more”, Bucky confesses, tracing your spine up and down. 
“I..I love you too, I was afraid to tell you, I don’t want to put pressure on you, you deserve time for yourself after all what happened”. 
“I want you to be me with me”, Bucky kiss you and then kisses your hand
“How will we do that? You are on missions, sometimes I go on tour”, You rest your head on his shoulder. 
He lifted you up off him and makes you lay next to him, he brings you to him putting your head on his chest
You sigh, you feel protected like this in his arms. 
“ There is always a solution for everything, please be with me”,He breathes you in. 
“I want to, more than anything”, you confess looking up to him, you purse your lips and he pecks them. 
“I have your Valentine’s gift
“It’s in the closet, go pick it up”. 
You get off the bed. 
Opening the closet, you see the big black box, with a shiny black bow
You read the card out loud
“You are the light of my life, thank you for being my best girl and a friend I can keep
“With love, your Sergeant” and face with a wink and a heart. 
“Aww, Buck”, you cooed.
Bucky blushes pressing his lips in a tight line. 
You open the box and you gasp. 
It is the mixing sound console you always wanted. 
“ No way”, you breathe out looking at him and he nods excitedly. 
You squeal and jump with the box, putting it back in the closet. 
You jump on him on the bed attacking him with kisses all over his face.
He laughs and lets you do it, until you are done. 
“Thank you so much”
“I have a gift too”.
It’s in my apartment. 
y/n goes to her apartment and picks the vintage envelope. 
She comes to Bucky.
She hands Bucky the envelope
Bucky frowns at the envelope, he opens it and his breath hitches.
They are pictures of him  in the forties. 
Him and Steve before the serum 
One of him and the Howling Commandos with beer glasses up. 
A family picture of him and his father George, his mother Winniefred, his sisters Becca and Marie. 
Him, all dirty from fixing cars, looking tired at the camera. At the bottom of the envelope, they’re two plane tickets.
“Ohio?”, Bucky is confused. 
“I paid a P.I to find out what happened to Becca, apparently she escaped her first marriage, she remarried and lives in Ohio ever since, she is still alive. 
“I talked to her yesterday”
Bucky just chokes on a sob. 
He hugs her burying his face on your chest.
You feel the tears fall on your chest.  
“Thank you..I..-he just smiles looking at the pictures. 
“I love you”, 
Every word drips with honesty and how his eyes soften when he looks at you. 
You kiss him. “I love you too, my Bucky bear”. 
You wipe his tears. 
He frowns, “Bucky bear, really?” 
“Yep, Bucky bear”, you kiss the tip of his nose.  
He puts the pictures on his night stand 
He wraps you up in his arms and you too drift to sleep in happiness.
246 notes · View notes
fictioninmyblood · a month ago
BabyGirl Gets a Cold
Summary: After everyone came back from the snap, Steve left the shield to Sam, and both Bucky and Sam had to save the world, again - this time from itself. Sam and Bucky need to find an outlet from the pressures of constantly saving the world. Insert Y/N, their submissive and little, always taking their mind off the weight of the world, just by being her most authentic selves. Although it took a while to fully accept and balance out, they’ve never been happier sharing, what's yours is mine is ours.
Warning: 18+, Minors DNI, cussin, smut, D/s and DD/lg themes, whatever debauchery I can concoct, read at your own risk.
A/N: I finished TFATWS, been wanting a Dom and/or Daddy to take care of me since I accepted this part of myself, and I’m using this head cold as a reason to finally work on/share this series I been keeping to myself (ESPECIALLY since my period decided to have the audacity to come in the middle of my recovery - thanks for coming to my oversharing TEDTalk). Please don’t judge. Constructive criticism or praise welcome. Fair warning: I kinda my proofread and kept my back and forth points of view.
A/N: My work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.
Friday night
Y/N woke up around noon to a pounding headache and pressure in her nasal passage. She could only breathe out of one nostril, but still tried to push some air out of the other in hopes that she was wrong. As soon as she sat up her nose started running and her chest tightened confirming that she was indeed sick. Every fucking July when the temperatures outside is on straight Hell and the inside of everywhere felt like the Arctic, she got sick. This year, it seemed, was no different.
She screamed the best she could to the ceiling, letting it trail off into a whine, “Why todaaaayyyyy?!”
As if she conjured her dread, her phone started ringing. It seems her daddies were more attuned with her than she knew. She answered, hiding underneath her covers the best she could, using her favorite stuffy to help hide her - Seyo the Sea Otter from their trip to the aquarium.
With the biggest smile on his face, Sam said, “Hey there babygirl, you excited for today? We finally get to come over and spend 24 straight hours with you!”
Bucky tried to move Sam out of the way to get some facetime with you as well, “And then we get to spend the whole next day showing you off to our friends and family! We’ve been looking forward to seeing you all month babydoll! How ya been?”
Their excitement just made her regress more, so she let out another whine, tearing up at the almost guarantee of not seeing them.
“Now come on, you know to use your words, don’t tell me we have to start with discipline when we get there.” Sam said.
“Nooooooooooooo.” Y/N said.
“Well tell us what’s wrong so we can fix it babydoll.” Bucky said.
“You can’t fix. I sick,” Y/N pouted and started to work herself into a tizzy, getting more unconsolable as she went on, “and now you can’t come and we can’t play, and, and --” she stuttered her words out through tears and an increasing amount of hiccups, “and I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you againnnn.” She burst into tears, making her stuffy nose even stuffier and her stuffy snottier.
“Oh no, babygirl! Please stop crying, you’re only going to make your symptoms worse,” Sam tried to soothe her.
“Yea, babydoll, we’re still comin to see ya, we just gotta make an extra pitstop or two now, but I promise we’ll be there soon, right Samster?” Bucky said.
Sam and Buck had a mini stair off.
“Oh yea, babygirl. Now you know Buckington and I would never miss the chance to see our girl. Don’t you?” Sam spat back, only sweetening his words when talking directly to Y/N.
Y/N started to visibly calm down, only hiccuping at the opportunity to see her two favorite people in the world still. She really just wanted to be taken care of and where would she find two better experts?
Both of the men nodded their heads vigorously.
“You keep your cute butt tucked in that bed until we get there sweet pea, your Daddies are on the way to save the day.” Sam said.
Y/N’s face brightened and she made a show of doing just that, snuggling into her covers more and tucking herself in with one hand.
A few hours later
Y/N woke up from her nap to the sound of bickering coming from her kitchen. She felt even worse than before she went to sleep now that the cold had time to set in.
Thankfully, Bucky’s super soldier ears picked up on her awakening, the second her stuffy nosed whine built in her chest. He took the opportunity to “accidently” hit the center of Sam’s chest too hard to shut him up and clue him in. When Sam finally got over the abuse, that he was definitely bringing up to Dr. Raynor, he quickly started helping Bucky gather together their hard work. Well, more like other people’s hard work, but they were making it pretty and easily accessible for them to take care of you so same difference.
What Y/N thought was the boys finally coming to a civil agreement, was in fact them agreeing to disagree until after you were asleep again. You had only recently begun to pick up on the fact that you were kinda like Switzerland between the everbickering men. They had cut back on the ferociousness of their verbal wars whenever you were around, sometimes most of the time finishing them when you were sleep or not around again. But they had really proven that they would always come together at least semi-peacefully for your sake.
After she listened to see what they were up to for a little while, Y/N began patting down her bed and looking around her room for Seyo. She spotted him across the floor, at her doorway as soon as Sam, holding a tray of soup and tea, and Bucky, holding all the medications they could find in Walgreens in his arms, rounded the corner to enter.
If there was one thing that Sam and Bucky could whole heartedly agree on, was that they would both die 1000 deaths to see your eyes brighten the way they do any time either or both of them were around. Among the naughty reasons, knowing that they were the only two people to ever elicit that magnitude of a reaction out of you upon each meeting was one of the top reasons they both fell in love with you. You never lack in ways to show them how much they mean to you, especially when it comes to your facial expressions.
Bucky rushed to your bedside, releasing the mountain of medicine on you bed to come lay behind you and shower your face in a storm of kisses.
“Buuuuucccckk, stop it. I gon get yous sick,” Y/N said through coughing giggles.
“No you’re not. Super soldier. Remember bunny?” Bucky replied and continued his antics.
Sam looked down on you two with a frowny face as he held the tray. “Hey old guy,” Sam said, taking a second to laugh at Bucky’s displeased expression, “would you stop jostling her around so I can set this down and get my love in too?”
Bucky’s smug smirk did nothing but ruffle Sam’s feathers even more as he said, “I’ll stop, but no kissing for you since you’re just a regular soldier.” He leaned on your headboard, folding his arms behind his head, looking like the cat who ate the canary. “Don’t want you getting sick now do you little bird?”
“Boy, I ain’t never been sick a day in my life,” Sam said as he finally was able to sit the tray on your side table without fear of it being knocked over and move Bucky out of the way. “Now move so I can get me my sugar.”
Y/N couldn’t stop the giggles as Sam kissed all over her face, much like Bucky did, as said person tried to mush Sam away from you. They only stopped their antics when you went into a horrible coughing fit, bringing them back to the task.
And so, daddy mode was activated. While Bucky checked your temperature, Sam measured out some cold medicine and cough syrup into two separate cups.
You were still for the temperature check, breathing a sigh of relief when Bucky announced that you only just barely had a fever. However, the second Sam inched towards you with the first medicine cup in hand, all rational thought left your brain with one message: Beware of the nasty medicine. After throwing away the thermometer cover Bucky came over to help Sam by grabbing your hands that were trying to nudge Sam away and pinning them on the bed.
Cooing while trying to soothe you the best he could by running his fingers back and forth on the back of your hand, Bucky said, “Come on doll, you’ve been so brave up until now. Be good for Sammy.”
Sam held the small measuring cup closer to your face and still you turned your head with a defiant, “no.”
Sam grabbed the sides of your face, smushing your cheeks together and turned your head to face him. He said, “You want a sore bottom to go with that sore throat? I understand you don’t like medicine, but you need it to get better, now open.”
You pressed your pouting lips together, still unwilling to allow the logical and inevitable choice, come to fruition.
Sam’s frown deepened and his gaze hardened. “If that’s how you want it.” He held your nose and applied pressure to your cheeks until you opened your mouth enough for him to pour the first one in, quickly following the second behind that.
He held your mouth closed. “Swallow all of it.”
You did and he pecked your lips before pulling away to grab you the glass of water from the tray. Bucky followed his lead and did the same before releasing his hold on your arms. While you were briefly distracted, he scooped Seyo up and took him to the laundry room to be washed since it was obvious that he was desperately in need of it.
After Sam was satisfied with the amount of water you had you started getting antsy, noticing simultaneously that Seyo was no longer on the floor and Bucky wasn’t in the room when Sam tried to get you to swallow something else. This time soup, another non-favorite, even to Big you.
“No! Where’s Seyo? I wan my stuffie! I wan Bucky!” Y/N screeched out between coughing fits.
Sam quickly upended you over his knee, pulling down your bottoms and panties, he let loose a quick succession of rough swats that were honestly more of a surprise than anything. Yes, Sam was the rougher of the two men, but you still got away with a lot. Something you apparently couldn’t depend on when sick.
“Now I’ve had enough of your bratty ass behavior. I don’t care if you’re sick little one, I will spank you raw and leave you unfulfilled even after you’re better.” Sam threatened.
Y/N sniffles put pressure on her already stuffy nose as she let the tears run freely. “Please, no, daddy. I’ll be good. Please don’t take away my cummies. I let you doctor me till I better.”
Bucky came back in at that statement and crossed his arms, giving you his mean daddy face too. “You better be on your best behavior for the rest of our time taking care of you.”
“I am, promise,” Y/N said, crossing your heart as you rubbed your bum and sat gingerly.
“You better because you know I can do worse and I really don’t want to while you’re sick.” Sam said with a small pout.
“Yes daddy,” you replied contritely.
Sam picked up the bowl of soup and fed you, pausing to allow bucky to feed you crackers in between.
Sam pulled up your favorite Tinker Bell movie while Bucky got you to drink half of the tea.
They both cuddled around you as you snuggled in for the movie, passing out before the opening credits could finish.
Bucky woke you a few hours later and in the middle of another Tink favorite for some more meds and the rest of your tea. You were much happier too since Seyo had finished drying and was rejoined with the love pile.
Bucky said, “good girl” and planted a  forehead kiss, rendering you utterly pliant to the rest of their care for the remainder of the weekend as you cuddled up next to your 3 favorite men.
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golden-ariess · 6 months ago
Mistakes of the heart
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Pairing: Soft! Bucky
Warnings: This fluff will make you sick
A/n: I just want to be sappy. I have no excuse.
Even as the rain hit the ground sunk into the earth, causing a grey overcast making the day seem like it had no true beginning. Somehow this moment was perfect.
His life was now permanently stained in hues of color he'd never seen before you.
At first he was in denial in any way he could be. How he was deserving of love like this was beyond him. Someone like him was meant to float through life alone. His words were always too sharp, prepared to cut down anyone before they spoke. His emotions already barricaded behind a concrete wall. He let someone in once and it nearly cost him his life. Bucky was prepared not to make that mistake again.
He considered love a foolish game of the heart. Life was cold. The world would chew most people up and spit that back out he knew it. He was a victim of it once.
But you happened. And the mistakes of the heart didn't feel like one this time. He didn't hide from you. For the first time in his life, he was seen. Every side of himself from every low he went through and high he felt he allowed you to see him for who he was.
"You're starting. Stop." You pulled the covers up over your head. "I haven't even washed my face." You whined. Even after being together for two years, you never understood how Bucky was so chipper in the morning.
Bucky only chuckled. He attempted to pry the blanket from your grasp. "Let me look at you. I want to see my favorite person."
"Your favorite person still has sleep in their eye. Not gonna happen."
Bucky hovered over your body, trying to pry the soft duvet from your grip once more.
"You're so weird." You poked three fourths of your head up from the blankets. "Are you happy now?"
"It's only weird if you let it be." He cooed. He was so sickeningly sweet at times. And if the cure for it ever presented itself, you'd be the first to throw it out.
"And to answer your question. Yes, I'm happy now."
"What can I do to make you happy, Doll?"
You pondered his question for a moment, even though you had an answer as soon as you noticed he wasn't next to you.
"Come wrap your warm body around me and snuggle my ass. It's too early." One of your arms ventured out from under the covers, waiting for Bucky to take it.
"You don't have to tell me twice."
"Is this better?" He knew the answer to your question. He just enjoyed hearing you needed him.
You hummed in response. "Perfect baby." This is how early mornings were supposed to be. Bucky wrapped around you, sharing warmth. Your world's quiet just for a moment.
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awesomerextyphoon · 9 months ago
Home for Christmas
This is my first entry for the wonderful @navybrat817​, @stargazingfangirl18​, and @donutloverxo​’s Happy Hoelidays Challenge!
Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Black!Reader (Fem)
Summary: You got screwed this holiday season. Thankfully, someone decided to give you a break.
Rating: 18+/Explicit
Word Count: 2,211
Warning: Unprotected Smut (wrap it before you tap it!), Oral (f and m receiving), Fluff, Angst, Talks of Anxiety
A/N:  Not gonna lie, I feel a little intimidated by all of the amazing writers participating. So let me throw my hat into the ring, so to speak. Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​. Check them out!
Back to Masterlist
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“You have until the end of the month.”
“Okay, thanks.” You could barely keep your voice together you were so distraught.
You lost your job and your apartment all in the same week. You had used up most of your savings paying your grandmother’s medical bills. Your anxiety had gone through the roof since you got the pink slip yesterday. Now, six weeks till Christmas, you have to ask (beg) your friends if you can couch surf until you can get back on your feet.
You told your therapist that your anxiety had spiked to uncomfortable levels. You could barely sleep at night and you’ve had trouble concentrating on simple tasks. It felt like the world was closing in and you were helpless to stop it.
You hoped that something would give.
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  Bucky was coming back from an outing with Sam when he spotted you fumbling with your keys with tears streaming down your face.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Startled, you swiveled your head, “Oh Bucky! How are you?”
“I’m fine. So, do you want to talk?”
Your lower lip quivered and the dam broke,” I lost my job yesterday, all my savings went to my aunt’s medical bills, and my landlord said I have to leave at end of the month!” you sobbed as Bucky pulled you in for a hug.
“Shh, it’s okay.” Bucky cooed as he rubbed circles onto your back.
“It’s not, but thanks.” you choked out trying to compose yourself.
It would seem that fate thought it right to mock him today. Brock got another compliment for his work and the love of his life was about to be on the streets.
Though Bucky shouldn’t be surprised that you knew next to nothing about his feelings with him being too cowardly to tell you. They first came ten months ago at a get-together Sam roped him into attending. He was enraptured by your kindness and sharp wit, plus it didn’t hurt that you were breathtakingly beautiful and your cookies were heavenly. The two of you quickly became friends going to movies, museums, and adult arcades. You were exceedingly kind and understanding even when Bucky showed you his prosthetic arm.
He wanted to go further, but he didn’t want to ruin his friendship with you.
Though, maybe…
“I was wondering, would you like to stay at my apartment ‘til you get back on your feet? It has three bedrooms and two bathrooms so you won’t be ‘invading or unwelcome’. I know you’re thinking about it.”
“But what about the re-”
“No. It’s fine. You said it yourself. You need to rest and regroup.” He was going to be fine, he was the CTO of SHIELD Inc. Both Steve and Sam have stated that he should move to a condo or a penthouse, but he’s glad that he never listened.
You nodded your head and sighed,” Okay.”
Bucky grinned, “Good. Though it’s not for free. Your payment will be in your ‘out of this world’ cooking.”
You giggled, “It’s a deal!”
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  You moved in three days later. It was delightful to not have the threat of financial instability peering over your shoulder.
It didn’t take long for you to settle into a routine. You woke up around 7 AM, did some exercises and meditation, made breakfast, had a nice conversation w/Bucky, did some job searching, researched different recipes to try out, baked some desserts for Bucky to share with his team, cook dinner, had a nice chat w/Bucky over dinner and wine, and Bucky would do clean up with a movie.
Both Bucky and your therapist noticed your dramatic increase in your mental and emotional health.
Your aunt noticed how serene you looked when finally had the chance to visit her. She also teased you about Bucky and how cute the two of you would look.
You deflected your aunt in good jest, but she was not wrong. You had started to see Bucky in a new light. He was devastatingly handsome, sexy even. He was tall (6’3” / 1.9m), broad shoulders and muscular arms that you always loved to be enveloped in, eyes like the Mediterranean after a storm, luxurious dark Chestnut brown that was delightful to the touch, and a soft, protruding belly that was perfect for cuddling (though Bucky was insecure about it though). He was your own giant teddy bear who you would love to love (and fuck).
Maybe the two of you could be something more.
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  “You have to tell her, Buck.”
Bucky groaned internally at yet another one of Steve’s interventions. He hasn’t been able to focus at work since you’ve moved in with him. Sam was constantly calling him out on it, and now Steve has weighed in on the issue.
“C’mon, you need to let her know how you feel. Otherwise, you’re taking advantage of her spectacular cooking and baking skills.” Sam exclaimed while biting into a Levain Style Toffee Crunch Cookie.
Bucky knew that he should say something. He was planning on telling you on Christmas Eve about the gift he bought you last week.
Now, all he needed was courage.
“She probably feels the same way, Bucky. There’s no way she would’ve stayed with you this long if she didn’t like you.” Sam added while going for his third Salted Caramel Brownie.
“I know. It’s just that she deserves someone better.”
Steve scoffed, “For fuck’s sake, man! You are smart, caring, and funny! Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You have a lot to offer!”
Bucky gave Steve a smile, “Thanks, Stevie.”
“Sure. Now move over, I want some of those brownies.”
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  Christmas Eve dinner was going well.
You were able to visit your aunt two days prior to which she teased you about Bucky yet again. You didn’t dare to bring up the sex dreams and times you masturbated in the shower wishing it was Bucky giving you such sensations.
You were biting into your teriyaki-glazed salmon when Bucky cleared his throat, “What’s wrong?” you asked.
“I’ve been such a coward,” Bucky uttered.
You put down your utensils, “Bucky-”
“No. I-I love you.”
“I’ve loved you since that get together ten months ago,” You smiled at the memory,” I saw this kind, funny, beautiful woman who was amazing and was willing to put up with a loser like me. I know that I’m not in your league-”
You stood up,” Bucky, you’re not a coward and you’re not a loser. You have been nothing but kind and understanding this last few weeks. You let me stay with you when I was barely hanging on financially. You’ve respected my space without expecting anything in return. I know I’m not the best roommate, but-”
You were cut off by Bucky enveloping you in a tight hug, “Thank you,” he breathed.
Glancing up at him, you whispered, “I love you too.”
Bucky gathered his courage and captured your lips in a searing kiss. The kiss sent a bolt of electricity throughout your body. After a few moments, you pulled away and licked your lips in excitement.
“May I kiss you again?”
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  The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs once you reached his bedroom. Bucky ripped off your top and chuckled at your attempt to cover yourself,” You have nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart.”
You backed onto the bed with a grin, unable to hide your giddiness as Bucky’s eyes darkened with lust and the look on his face was not unlike that of an apex predator.
Bucky took things slow, wanting to savor this moment. He worked you from top to bottom at an agonizingly slow pace. Soft, open-mouthed kisses marked his path smirking in pride at the sound of your moaning and squirming with each caress.
“Bucky please,” you begged as Bucky made his way to your chest.
Bucky tutted in response, “Let me adore you, love,” as he covered your breasts with hickeys, pinching and sucking your nipples, relishing the sounds of your moaning and mewling. He smirked at your praises as he made his way to your stomach.
He made sure to give your midsection extra love and care, “Utter perfection,” Bucky murmured as he kissed a stretch mark near your hipbone. Your heart soared at the declaration. You’ve never had a partner who complimented you let alone give you the time of day let alone a partner who actually put your needs first.
And in such a delicious manner.
Bucky was about to go in on your thighs when you stopped him,” Please, let me,” you panted as you got off the bed and undid his belt. You bit your lower lip once you got back his boxers.
He was a lot bigger than you thought.
“You sure about this, doll?” Bucky asked amusedly taking in your raised eyebrows and a sly grin.
Nodding eagerly, you laid your head in his awaiting lap and gave his dick an open-mouthed kiss followed by a long, slow lick to his weeping tip.
You were careful not to go too deep, not wanting a repeat of that one Spring Break. “Fuck, doll,” Bucky praised as you worked his dick like a lollipop. You alternated between playing with his balls and sucking on what you could fit in your mouth.
Bucky bellowed when you lightly scraped him with your teeth. He never thought that someone like you would give him the time of day. Ever since Bucky left the Army, it seemed that no one would even look at him, even before they knew about the prosthetic left arm. He was about to give up all hope of finding anyone who accepts him when you came into his life. You were his light, but you were not afraid to be imperfect. He could be vulnerable with you in a way that he has never been with anyone, even Stevie.
You continued your ministrations for a couple more minutes until Bucky gently tugged your hair, “Sorry doll, I won’t make it if keep workin’ me like this, and I want to give you my first gift this evening.”
You pouted but relented as Bucky motioned you back to the bed. You parted your legs and moaned when Bucky gave your slit a long, slow lick after kissing and nipping your inner thighs.
“Better than any baked good. Fuck! I could get addicted to this!” You giggled at the statement loving the praise.
Bucky attacked your folds with a masterfully executed battle plan. He switched between licking and sucking your clit with insane precision, scissoring your folds with his thick fingers (sometimes metal ones), and playing with your juices.
You were on Cloud Nine. Each of his movements sent wave after wave of euphoria throughout your body. Bucky’s tongue and fingers made your hair stand on end and bolts of electricity shot through your veins and danced along your skin. You grabbed a fistful of his luxurious hair and arched your back towards him.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” Bucky rumbled.
The dam broke.
“Bucky!” you shouted as Bucky lapped up your juices and crawled up to caress your face.
“You sure you want this, doll?” Bucky asked.
“Please Bucky,” You begged as he pushed himself into you inch by inch pausing once he filled you.
“So fucking tight!” Bucky breathed huskily.
“Bucky. I. Need. You.” You murmured between kisses to his neck and jaw. He started out at a slow pace, making sure you were used to his size but he intensified his thrusts once you began moaning in pleasure and begged him to go harder.
Each thrust hit you just right, sending you higher and higher, but Bucky made sure not to send you over the edge (not yet). He decided to add to your sweet, sweet torture by kissing your neck, shoulders, and collarbone. You didn’t know how much you could take, but at the same time, you didn’t want to end.
Thankfully, Bucky heard your mental pleas. He worked your clit and you came with another shout as he nipped the juncture between your neck and collarbone. Bucky came soon after with a primal roar.
Laying on Bucky’s bed and looking out the window, you saw a thick yet gentle snowfall. You were about to make a nice (if not a little snarky) Christmas remark when you felt a weight on your chest. Casting your eyes downward you found a silver snowflake on a thick silver chain with sapphires in the middle and on each of its six points. It was beautiful.
You nearly swiveled your head in shock. “Bucky you di-”
Bucky caressed your cheek and kissed you, “You’ve been so kind to me since we’ve met and I wanted to give you something as wonderful as you.”
“Well, since you put that way. I guess you’ll have to wait until tomorrow for your present.” you teased.
Bucky snaked his right arm around your midsection, “It might not be ‘til Noon at best. I’m gonna need another round.” he crooned as he kissed your neck.
Part of you wondered what the hell all those people were thinking when they didn’t give Bucky a second glance. Well, it matters not. Bucky was yours and you would be damned before you let him go.
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kimoralov3 · 5 months ago
How They Say I Love You w/o Saying I Love You
Requested by: No one
Word Count: 616 (haha)
Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr x gn!reader, James Buchanan Barnes x gn!reader, Loki Laufeyson x gn!reader, Sam Wilson x gn!reader, Wanda Maximoff x gn!reader
mon amour = my love in French according to Google translate
Warnings: swearing
Erik Lehnsherr: "[insert very specific insult]" + Holding shopping bags that are too heavy for them
"Erik, I can carry that stuff by myself." I said as I reached for the shopping bags.
"No, your fraile little potato arms can't handle carrying 5 bags worth of Bath and Body Works candles." Erik said as he moved the bags out of my reach.
"First of all, rude. Second of all, my arms are not 'fraile little potatoes'. I am perfectly capable of carrying candles."
"I'm sure you are. But the answer is still no, mon amour."
James Buchanan Barnes: Washing their back/hair in the shower + "I've been dying to do this with you."
"Ok, time to get out. I gotta wash my hair." I said as I grabbed my hair care products.
"Actually, I watched some videos on how to care for black hair. I could wash your hair for you." Bucky offered as he gently plucked the products out of my arms.
"Ok white boy; but if you mess up my hair I will fuck you up." I warned as I turned around.
"I'm sure. I've been dying to do this with you."
Loki Laufeyson: "You won't take care of yourself so I will." + Leaving a plate of food for them in the microwave when they have a late shift
"My Darling. Have you eaten today?" Loki asked as he poked his head in the doorway. I looked up from my laptop, shaking my head.
"No, I was pretty busy today. Plus I haven't gone grocery shopping this week, so we don't have anything to eat." I explained as I went back to work.
"I went grocery shopping earlier and made some chicken and rice. It's in the microwave."
"Oh. Well I'll eat later then, I still have a lot of work left to do."
Loki stood there for a moment, seemingly thinking over something before walking over to me. He shut my computer, picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. "You won't take care of yourself, so I will."
"Loki, put me down! I have work to finish." I whined as I tried to wiggle out of his grasp.
"You've done enough work today; it's time for you to eat. After that you'll take a nap. Then we'll see if you can continue your work."
Sam Wilson: Buying something unrequested because it made them think of you + "I was thinking of you."
"Honey, I'm home!" Sam jokingly yelled as he walked into our shared home. I walked into the entryway, giving him a kiss on the cheek and smiling at him.
"Glad you're back. What's this?" I asked as I pointed at the plastic bag in his hand.
"Well I was thinking of you while I was shopping. Here you go." He said as he pulled a pack of sunflower seeds out the bag. "I remember how you said you wanted to start a garden, and I thought your favorite flowers would be a great start."
"Awe, that's so sweet of you! I'll go plant them right now."
Wanda Maximoff: Making their favorite meal when they're having a hard day + "I made it the way you like it."
"Hey, how are you feeling?" Wanda asked as she sat on the edge of the bed.
"Not that much better. This cold is kicking my ass." I said as I reached out for her hand.
"I figured you'd say that, so I made your favorite." She said as she brought a tray of food into my view.
"Babe, you shouldn't have." I said softly as I sat up.
"I don't mind. I made it the way you like." She said as she rubbed my back.
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starksdaughter-3000 · 3 months ago
Mob!Bucky x f!Reader
*Not my GIF*
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Warning~ Mob au, Cuddling, Fluff
Wc~ I don't fuckin know:/
A/N~ :) Enjoy!
You had just got back from shopping at the mall, entering the mansion with Sam opening the door for you with all your bags in his hands.
"Thank you Sam I appreciate it but I could have carried them myself." Sam chuckles. "It's alright sweet pea I got it." You see Bucky coming down the stairs with a nice navy blue suit with his hair sliked back.
"You can set my bags down at the couch, thanks again Sam." Sam nods to you and heads to the couch. Bucky aproches you in a hurry.
"Hi baby, where are you heading?" Bucky gives you a quick kiss to your forehead. "Last minute buisness meeting out of town. I'll be back tommorrow morning though. Love you."
"Love you too babe." Bucky gives you another kiss before heading out the door with Steve right behind him.
You sigh and turn towards Sam. "What will you be up to Sam?" "Ah nothing much just gonna head home and fix dinner."
"Cool. Well im gonna hit the hay early, night!"
As you wake up you turn towards your alarm clock.
"Damn let me get ready."
You stretch and go into the bathroom to get ready.
At the moment you are chillin in bed watching Netflix. As the bedroom door swings open and Bucky apears in the door way.
"Jamesie!" You yell as you jump across the bed to jump into his arms.
"Hey doll." You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he hold you up.
"Mmmh I missed you Buck." You snuggle your face into his neck smelling his expencive cologne. He laughs.
"Doll it hasn't been 24 hours. I've been gine for longer."
"That doesn't matter, I miss you whenever you whenever your not around, even idmf it was just for a second." His heart warms at your words.
"Now can we cuddle?" You ask pulling your head back to give him puppy dog eyes.
"How could I ever say no to that." He smiles, walking you to the bed. As he sets you down and climbs in after you he asks.
"Why are your shopping bags still in the living room?"
"Crap I forgot, I was tired." He brings your warm body closer to his.
"What did you get doll?" You smirk.
You'll have to see. I can put on a fashion show for you later." You whisper in his ear seductively. He growls.
"You most definitely will. I can't wait." You smile and grab his face to pull him into a passionate kiss.
"I love you bubbs."
"Love you too doll."
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