#bucky x reader fanfiction

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Like an animal | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader

Summary -> When you don’t want to hear when Bucky says something and you get hit by sex pollen he makes sure you know that you should listen to Bucky when he says something.

Wordcount -> 2.371

Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sex pollen, slight thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, rough sex, hate sex, using of the word slut

Request -> Heyyy. I saw your Bucky smut menu and I couldn’t resist lol. Could you do 1. Either enemies to lover or sex pollen (maybe both idk im not picky) 2. Protective Bucky (I wouldn’t oppose to him being slightly jealous too lmao) 3. Oral f receiving and hate sex. And for the petnames I cannot stand anything like pet, kitten, bunny, puppy. No shame to ppl who like them, im just more simple. I'm fine with stuff like babe/baby, doll, honey, sweetheart. I hope this wasn’t too picky lol😭❤️🤞🏾 @blckbarbiedoll

A/N -> Thank you so much for the request. I hope you like it. I tried to include everything you asked for so yeah just read and decide if you like it or not I guess haha. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Events -> Bucky Barnes Smut Menu

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky groans when you just hit the Hydra Agent before he runs away and you follow him. The brown-haired man told your brother he would take care of you, but you’re always so stubborn around him and need to prove that you can do things on your own. Of course he knows, but being the protective man he usually is, he is even stronger when he is with you. Not only because of your brother, who is also his best friend, but also because he likes you. Way more than he admits, he really likes you since the day you started to work together, and the two are always around each other. But a part of him hates you for being so stubborn; at least he hates you in a way that he wants to fuck your attitude out of you and teach you some manners.

He tried to convince you to help, but you were just shaking your head and pushed him away before you punched the other agent. Bucky was standing there, rolling his eyes, but he knows he shouldn’t make you angry; otherwise, he would get some punches as well.

When you run after the agent, he follows you with a groan. Looking around the corner to be sure there is no other agent. When Bucky walks around the corner, the floor is empty, and he can only hear some shouts and some noises, which tell him that you’re beating the guy up.

Meanwhile, you’re in a room with the agent; he just ran into it, and in your headspace of wanting to punch him, you follow him. You don’t really look around you; you’re not noticing the suspicious things around you. The only thing you’re focused on is the Hydra agent opposite you.

“You’re such a naive little girl, aren’t you?”

“Shut up. You don’t know me, and a little girl couldn’t punch you like that,” you shout and walk closer while you lift your hand.

He laughs darkly, waiting until you’re just a few steps away. Then he pushes a button, and a loud noise echoes through the room. You immediately cover your ears with your hands, trying to make the noise quieter. The agent pushes you to the side; you fall and crash against a table before you fall to the ground and make yourself smaller. You press your legs to your chest, your head resting on your knees, while you see the man pushing another button. Then he leaves the room, the noise gets quieter, and you inhale loudly, relaxing your body while there is a complete silence in the room.

You slowly sit up, looking around, but the Hydra agent isn’t in the room anymore. The doors are closed, and you inspect the things around you. There are a lot of containers, big containers. They are filled with some kind of colorful gas, and you wonder what kind of experiments they are doing there.

“Y/N? Are you there?” Bucky shouts from outside the room, trying to open the door.

“Bucky, did you catch him?”

“No?”

“Then do it!” you shout annoyedly back and roll your eyes.

“No! We need to get you out of that lab; there are chemicals.”

You sigh, annoyed. Bucky crashes with his shoulder against the door. While you hear him groaning, you stand up and walk over to one of the containers.

“BUCKY!”

“What? I try to open the door, oke!”

“Yeah, hurry up. It-It’s cooking,” you shout back, taking a step back when the liquid connects itself with the gas.

“What?”

Before you can answer, it bangs, and a big cloud of liquid and gas is over the container, slowly getting bigger like the fog during a rainy and cold morning.

“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bucky asks, and you laugh sarcastically.

“I didn’t do anything. Here are some liquids and gases, and it just- I don’t know. It’s green! Is that normal? Is it supposed to be green?”

“I don’t know. I’m not Bruce.”

“Bucky! James! When he is green, it’s not good, so get me out of that room.”

The fog coats the room, and even when you try not to inhale it, you feel it slowly rushing through your veins, and everything starts to tingle. You feel like you get needy in a way you never were before, and you feel your pants dripping, soaking your panties immediately. You moan softly, your hand slides between your legs, and you shiver at the touch of your fingers. You rub the fabric of your panties and pants against your wet folds, feeling a bit of relief when you move faster against your fingers. A moment later, the door crashes, and you remove your hand. With wide eyes, you look at Bucky, who just broke the door and is looking around.

“Get out of there, doll,” he demands, holding his hand out for you to grab it.

“B-Bucky. I-“

He makes you shut up when he holds your hand and pulls you against him. His firm, muscular chest presses against you, and you groan softly. His leg is pressed against your cunt, and you start to grind yourself against it, making Bucky look at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What do you think you’re doing there?”

“Please, those- Bucky- Sex pollen,” you mumble, your head falling against his chest while you move your hips slowly against his thigh.

He gasps, his hands immediately around your waist to push you back slightly. Your head falls back, and your eyes are filled with pure desire and lust when you look at him. You bit onto your lip, trying to push your hips against him, feeling the friction you had when you moved against his leg, but he holds you still.

“Please, Bucky.”

“You should learn some manners, shouldn’t you? Running after a Hydra agent and being in one room with him. He could have done filthy things to you. Do you like that? Do you like being used by a man?” Bucky groans; his eyes darken when he feels his dick harden in his pants.

As much as he hates the thought of you being used as a fuck toy by someone else, he loves the thought of using you as his own little doll. Where he can let out his jealousy and his frustration that you just can’t listen during missions and that you always talk back.

“Answer me!" his tone is rough, his fingers digging into your waist, and you moan softly.

“Yes.”

Bucky groans and leans closer to you. Then he presses his lips onto yours and pulls you closer, his hard dick pressing against your stomach, and you whimper. His hands roam over your body, finding their way up your sides, squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt and bra before he slides them back down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and your lips never leave his while he carries you to the next counter he can find.

With one movement, he shoves everything off the surface and places you on top of it. He takes a step back, still spreading your legs apart while his hands glide along your thighs. Bucky grips the waistband of your pants, tugging at them. You move your body up to help him so he can take off your pants and panties. And he does; he shoves both down your legs and smirks when he sees your already dripping pussy. You moan; the cold air hitting your wetness makes you even more desperate, and you want to move a hand between your folds, but Bucky stops you, gripping your hand and pushing it away.

“Don’t dare to touch yourself. You need to learn manners, and I will teach you them.”

Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, his hands sliding along your thighs before he grips them and holds them apart. Then he kisses a trail along your stomach until he reaches your pussy. His tongue slides through your folds softly, and the warmth of it lets you shiver. Bucky lets go, smiling when he sees your hands gripping the surface to ground yourself.

“Good girl,” he praises.

With a short kiss on your stomach, he guides his tongue back to your folds, sucking softly at your clit and circling it with his tongue before he lowers his movements to your entrance. Your moans and whimpers encourage him to continue to give you the pleasure you want him to give you with his tongue.

“Don’t cum before I allow you to cum.”

You nod, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at you. His hot breath against your wet pussy, coated in your arousal and his saliva. Bucky works his tongue slowly inside of you, taking his time while you push yourself more against him, trying to get more of his tongue. More of him inside of you.

“Bucky-“

“I teach you manners. So we go by my pace,” he explains, kissing your clit.

“You’re a tease, aren’t you, Barnes?”

“Such a big mouth for such a little girl, huh?”

He nibbles softly at your clit, sliding his tongue through your folds again before he kisses every inch of your private part. Bucky loves the way you whimper to get more of the pleasure he gives you. He brings you close to your orgasm, but whenever you want to cum, he just kisses your skin softly. He just needs to push his tongue inside of you, and you are almost over the edge, your walls clenching around him, and he imagines his dick inside your wet, warm hole. The way you’re going to squeeze it when you cum and the way you will moan his name when he thrusts his dick deep inside of you.

Bucky gets up, making you whine. He smirks, his hands still sliding over your thighs before he removes them. You want to protest, but you don’t when you hear him unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down. His hard cock springs free, the tip leaking with pre-cum. He is huge, and you smirk softly when you see the veins running along his shaft. Bucky grabs his cock, stroking it a few times while he rubs his thumb over his tip and smears the pre-cum all over his dick. Then he slaps his dick against your clit, making you gasp.

“You’re so needy,” he says, his cock resting between your wet folds.

Then he likes his dick up with his entrance and pushes himself inch by inch inside of you. He stretches you open like no one ever did before, and your walls are already squeezing his dick. Bucky tries his best not to cum immediately; the warmth and tightness of your pussy make him go crazy. He pushes himself inside of you completely. You moan loudly, your hands find their way to his shoulder, and you grip them. Then you pull him closer, and Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, kissing you roughly while he gives you a moment to adjust to his dick.

Bucky pulls out of you, thrusting inside of you even harder. He is rough, fucking your attitude out of you and the way you talk back. He slams his dick inside of you, forcing it completely between your tight walls. You almost scream at the harshness of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your ass while he fucks you like a wild animal. But the two of you need it - the roughness, the slight pain inside of you, which turns slowly into pleasure. A kind of pleasure you never felt before, one only he can give you while he fucks you like a slut, a toy that just wants to be used by Bucky.

“I hate your fucking attitude,” he says, pulling out to slam his dick harder inside of you.

You scream, your fingers digging into the skin of his back. Your back arches, and you move against him, wanting him deeper.

“I hate the way you always need to talk back.”

He uses his metal hand to grip your throat. Bucky just holds his hand there; he doesn’t squeeze your neck.

“Fucking. Little. Slut,” he groans between his thrusts.

“Bucky- I’m-“

“Shhh. But even when you annoy me with that, I love you, doll,” he admits while he fucks you like an animal.

You throw your head back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives you. You feel every vein of his cock; he hits your sweet spot whenever he thrusts inside of you.

“I wanna cum, please. I- Bucky, I love you too. Can I cum? Please?”

He chuckles, bringing his other hand to your clit and rubbing circles on it. At the same harsh pace, he pushes his high lengths inside of you.

“Cum, doll. All over my dick.”

And you do as he tells you. While you scream his name in pleasure, you feel the know in your stomach snapping, and you cum all over his dick. Bucky watches in awe at you while you cum, then he looks down where his dick is connected with you. His cock is covered in your cum, and he groans. When you squeeze him even more, he doesn’t need long until he cums inside of you, painting your walls with his seeds while he slows his movements. You both breathe heavily, your bodies covered in sweat, and Bucky lets himself fall down on top of you. Your hands slide from his shoulders into his soft brown hair, and you play with them.

“Do you mean that, doll?”

“What?”

“That you love me too.”

“Yeah, I love you, Buck.”

He smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. His plumb lips perfectly fit against yours.

“Let’s clean us, and then we go back to the compound. I will make sweet love to you there. How does it sound? And then a movie night.”

“But I decide the movie,” you say.

The two of you laugh before he kisses you again and slowly pulls out of you. Bucky helps you to clean yourself before he cleans himself between a lot more kisses.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

#marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky smut #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky x yn #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female yn #bucky x f!reader

[welldonebeca]

Glitter and Goo (iii)

Summary: When you have to go on a mission to a different planet together, Bucky is hit by a mating ritual flower, and some feelings you two have been hiding come up. AKA: It’s a sex pollen fic with a side of breeding kink. WC: 1.8k words Warnings: Romantic tension. Fluff. Dirty talking. Passionate sex. Breeding kink. Praising kink. Size difference. Cock warming. A/N: Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me... y'all know the deal. It's my birthday, you get smut.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

Masterlist

Bucky climbed onto the mattress and you grabbed him quickly, pulling him close and kissing him hungrily.

Yes, you wanted him to fill you. You needed it!

His cock brushed against your leg, and you spread your thighs.

"In me," you pleaded. "Bucky. Please."

You were so empty! You needed him.

But he didn't give it to you, no. Instead, Bucky buried his face in your neck, kissing it as his hand fondled your breast.

"Such beautiful tits," Bucky babbled. "Always loved your tits, wanted to kiss them so much."

He pinched your nipples, tugging on them.

"Big tits to feed my big babies," he grunted. "Gonna nurture them with them, right?"

You nodded, swallowing down, and whined when he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples.

"Please," you whined. "Need you!"

Why was he being so mean? You needed him inside you!

Bucky took his lips away, pressing your tits together.

"Gotta prepare you," Bucky bit your nipples. "You're too small."

No you weren't!

You reached down to his cock, hoping you could tempt him into getting inside you, but stopped, shocked, when you wrapped your fingers around him and couldn't close your fingers around him.

Oh.

James put his hands between your legs, and you whimpered when he parted your folds with his fingers.

"You're so wet," he purred. "Just for me, right? Just for my cock?"

His fingers travelled up, circling your clit as his teeth ran over your nipple, biting and sucking.

"Bucky," you whined, squirming under him, the smell of his skin clouding your thoughts a little.

You needed him, you needed his cock! Not his fingers.

Bucky let your tits go, his nose moving between them, his tongue licking your skin.

"Gonna make your tits swell," he promised. "Fill with milk to feed my child."

You moaned at the idea. God, he would put such big babies in you, right? Big healthy babies!

"Please," you begged. "Want your cock inside me. Want you to breed me."

Bucky circled your clit a bit more.

"But I need-"

"I need you!" you pleaded. "I need you, Bucky. Please. Inside me!"

He stopped, and looked at your face, giving you time to put your hands on his cheeks.

"Please, Bucky," you pleaded. "You said you'd breed me, right? I want you, I need you!"

His eyes softened completely, and he nodded weakly before moving up.

You turned a bit for him, though, showing him your ass, and he moaned darkly.

"Want me to fuck you from behind?" he grunted. "Fuck, baby..."

"Please," you insisted. "Bucky!"

He embraced you from behind, placing his cock weeping cock over your pussy, looking so big from where you were looking that you knew you'd feel him there for days.

He pushed the head in, and you moaned at finally - fucking finally - being able to fill him.

"Yes," you cried. "Yes, Bucky, yes."

His cock slipped into you in the easiest way, as if you were only waiting for it your whole life. As if you were waiting just for him.

"You're so wet, baby," he grunted into your neck. "So welcoming!"

Bucky wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you in close as he moved slowly and gently.

Too slowly and too gently.

"Please," you whined. "Fuck me! Please!"

He held you in place.

"Gotta be careful," Bucky pinched your nipple. "Can't hurt you."

You tugged onto his arm, nearly digging your nails into his arm.

"No," you pleaded. "Want you to hurt me, please."

Bucky froze.

"Doll?" he asked softly.

You pressed your ass against him, trying to get his cock to bottom out inside you.

"Wanna feel you forever," you pleaded. "Please, Bucky!"

It was enough to break him.

James pulled his hips back, slamming his hips into yours and filling you completely before adjusting behind you.

He fucked you in his earnest, fucking you hard and deep, and you moaned in delight.

"Mine," he growled into your neck. "You're just mine."

His arm came around you, and you gasped when he placed his metal arm over your body, with his hand framing your cunt.

"Gonna fill you with cum,"  he promised darkly. "Breed you, show everyone you're mine."

Bucky adjusted you, until his fingers were on your folds and your clit, and you cried out when you felt it vibrating.

"Yes," you cried. "Bucky!"

"Say it," he twisted your nipple with his free hand. "Say you're mine!"

You clung to his arms.

"I'm yours," you cried. "Bucky, I'm yours."

He half growled, face buried in your neck, and your eyes fluttered closed when you felt him throbbing inside your pussy, filling you up suddenly.

But he didn't stop. If anything, Bucky fucked you harder.

Your eyes nearly crossed he continued to move, pushing his cum deep inside you, and you could feel the knot of pleasure growing in your belly.

"Like this?" he moaned into your neck. "Wanted me to fuck you like that, baby? Bruise that pussy with me big cock?"

"Yes," you cried.

Bucky pressed his vibrating hand to your clit.

"Fuck," you felt your body shaking. "Bucky! Bucky, please!"

"Want me to make you cum?" he pressed his lips to your ear. "Want me to make you cum while I breed you, pretty girl? While I give you a baby?"

You nodded, feeling your pussy already fluttering, your body already so fucking ready.

He angled his hand, moving in circles around your clit and angling his cock.

He brushed against the sweetest spot inside, and you cried in pleasure when he did. Bucky adjusted, and with each stroke of his cock hit the perfect spot, making you melt and cry.

"Yes, yes,"  you cried. "Bucky!"

His touches were insistent, unstopping, and you came.

Things got blurry after that, and you couldn't focus on how many times you came and he came.

Bucky fucked his cum deep inside you, always thick and hot, and you welcomed it happily

Oh, how you wished he would breed you there and then.

He  fed you and made sure you drank water in between fucking, though you were pretty sure FRIDAY was the one to remind you two to about it.

By the time you were out of the horny fog, it was time to land the ship.

"Shh, sweet girl," Bucky squeezed you in place with his metal arm. "Gotta keep you safe as we land."

You were sat right on his cock, just your lab coat covering your ass. Bucky was mean to you, making you sit there while he took control of the ship, and if it was the easiest thing you could do while he worked, when it wasn't.

It absolutely wasn't.

You'd fucked for the two whole days, and maybe a little more. Maybe he had decreased the speed of the ship when you were a little closer to Earth so you could see the moon as you came.

This was the last time you two would be fucking in a while.

Two days had left you quite sore.

The effects of the pollen and goo were gone, and while you two hadn't talked, it was a silent understanding that you two were on the same page.

You held onto him when you felt the ship landing, shaking a bit like a plane would.

Bucky only let you go when the ship landed completely.

"FRIDAY, make sure we have a few minutes of privacy," he requested.

"How long, Agent Barnes?"

He thought for a moment.

"20 minutes," he requested. "It's enough."

The system darkened the window in front of you and Bucky moved you gently, caressing your cheek gently.

"You want me to make you cum now, baby?" he offered. "I can just pull out."

You shook your head, hiding your face in his chest. There was no way you could possibly cum anymore.

"Want you to cum in me," you requested, half whining. "Please."

He chuckled.

"What an eager girl, my sweetheart is," Bucky adjusted you, fucking you with shallow thrusts. "Just want cum, baby?"

You nodded, bouncing the littlest bit on his lap.

Fuck, if you ever had to continue with this, you'd have to get an IUD. You couldn't go back to condoms after having his cum freshly fucked into you, you just couldn't.

He held you close and tightly, kissing your temple and cheek sweetly, caressing your back as you bounced gently over him.

Bucky used you with the gentleness of a man who'd learned every bit of your body and pleasure, and you let out a soft moan when he filled you, at last.

…

“Glitter and Goo” was first posted on my Patreon on April 2023. To read it now, subscribe to my page, it’s just $2 a month and I promise you won't regret it.

…

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102 @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke ​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @tayrae515 @indecisiondecisions @afanofmanystuffs​ @patzammit @thevanishedillusion @widowsfics @alexisshoto ​​ @dreams-of-feysand ​@dragonqueen0606 @izbelross @isabelle-faith

Glitter and Goo: @art2emily

#welldonebeca's glitter and goo #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fanfic #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader fanfic #bucky x reader smut #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x you smut #bucky x you fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x you fanfic #bucky barnes x you fic #bucky barnes x you smut

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

the one where bucky and reader are on an undercover mission and they have to pretend to be a couple even tho they lowkey hate love each other... 😎

#fake dating #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader fanfiction #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader insert #bucky x reader fic

[sebastianstansqueen]

Where Do We Go from Here 1

A/N: I'm going to up date this series usually Every other Thursday But I thought I'd give ya'll the first official part today , if you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,491

Warnings:  Angst, arguing, brash commentsI think that is all actually

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open// Spotify Playlist

Tags: @cherryblossomsky - - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2writes - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @elizacusi-blog - @valhalla-kristin

You hadn’t seen Bucky since graduation, from high school, and it made you a hell of a lot more nervous than it probably should have but hey the last time you saw the man he had been a dick towards you so you’d guess that was reasonable enough. What you were invited to was a ‘family’ dinner, more like a party, mostly filled with some family and the rest just mafia family members. As much as you wanted to avoid Bucky tonight, you knew you couldn't do that, if anything that would be the worst way to handle the situation, you currently wore a long black tulle dress with a plunging neckline and two slits in the legs, and black stilettos, your hair and make up done to perfection, you walked out to the large black SUV with one of your fathers drivers in it waiting for you. 

The party was grand for being outside it had gorgeous lighting, along with large trees and dark green lush grass, you walked nervously pushing a peace of hair behind your ear, your heart beat fast and rough in your chest, you took a few deep breaths, you’re father found you and hugged you. “How have you been in the past week?” He asked you. 

“Nervous since you asked me to marry my childhood best friend, who pushed me away in high school.” You said a little bit bitterly. “I’m sorry if I sound harsh.” You apologize for your words. “I’m just nervous.”

You walked around saying hi to old friends of the family, everyone but Bucky you had talked to you were doing exactly what you didn’t want to do avoidance. So eventually you sucked it up and walked up to your soon to be fiance, Bucky had the same dyed balck hair that sat at the nape of his neck where a tattoo you’d hadn’t seen before sat on the right side of the neck. You were so close and you sucked in a breath. “Hi.” You said as you stood across from him. 

“Hey.” His deep voice rang out. 

“So, how have you been in the last ten years?” You questioned. 

Bucky looked at you, and he shook his head. “Let's not try formalities Y/n.” He said harshly. “This is a shitty situation that we are both stuck in.”

“Okay, so you're still keeping me at an arm's length, good to know.” You huffed out as you walked away from him just trying to be nice. 

You shook your head at yourself you should have known he wouldn’t have changed, but the tiers burned in your eyes, you truly did care for Bucky he didn’t seem to care for you, and you don’t think he ever would. You walked up to your father who was talking to George Barnes once again. “Hello Y/n, I am so glad to see you once again, my how you’ve grown.” The older man hugged you. Then he pulled away and noticed your eyes look glassy. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing Sir.” You pushed off. 

He looked at you with furrowed brows. “You were just talking to my son, did he do something?” 

“No Mr. Barnes, I am fine, just a little tired. I've been up since five working on a case.” You huffed. “I think I need to go back home.” You smiled weakly before heading out. 

 George looked towards his son. “I’m sorry if he did anything to upset your dear daughter Henry, I don’t fucking understand what gets into my child when it comes to her.” He apologized, then walked towards said man.

Bucky looked at himself, he wore a simple tux with the jacket, shirt, pants and tie, he kept his hair in the usual style he wore it in. He headed down to his collection of luxury cars, he got in and started the vehicle, he pulled out and went through the large garage, once out of the gate of his property is when the anxiety hit him, what the hell was he going to say to Y/n when he saw her, what was he going to do this wasn’t going to be the night that he proposes to her, but this was the night he first has seen her in ten years, he wondered if you’d died your hair, like he has for a multitude of years. 

Bucky got to the outdoor party and he walked into it to find his and your father talking together, he huffed and thought that was his only option, but he was stopped by Steve. “Thought you could use a shot.” Steve told his closest friend, holding out the drinks. 

“Thank god for you.” Bucky said taking the shot and throwing it back.

Steve smirked. “Are you nervous to see her again?” 

Bucky huffed, about to say something when your father rushed across the yard, Bucky’s eyes followed the man seeing him hug Y/n, her y/h/c hair was long but curled while her makeup was done up to notch, and her well pedicured hand patted her fathers back you hadn’t changed but at the same time you did you changed into an elegant refined woman, Bucky was tempted to walk over to her but he held himself back he knew that once she was safe and could get out of this marriage she would devorce him. 

Bucky watched as Y/n walked about and talked to old friends and ‘family’ Bucky knew she would eventually make her way towards him Steve currently kept him company while he waited for her to come up he prepared what to say to her. Then she eventually did come up to him. “Hi.” Her kind eyes looked directly into his blue ones.

He smiled softly. “Hey.” 

Then he forced himself to harden his expression, she looked up at him still with a gentle look in her eyes and a soft smile. “So, how have you been in the last ten years?” 

Bucky shook his head, he told himself he was keeping his distance, this was how he was defying his father.  “Let's not try formalities Y/n. This is a shitty situation that we are both stuck in.” It came out a lot fucking ruder than he ment. 

Y/n nodded, giving a tight lipped smile. “Okay, so you're still keeping me at an arm's length, good to know.” She huffed walking away.

Steve stood next to him with a judgemental look on his face. “I know I fucked up.” Bucky told his friend. 

“I know why you started to push her away in high school. Why do it now when you have to do this?” Steve questions looking at the campaign he held. 

They watched as Y/n hugged Bucky’s father, before she left, Bucky stood there for a moment before his father came up. “What the hell did I tell you last week?” His father hissed. 

Bucky got snarky. “Do you want me to quote you exactly?” 

George nodded. “Why not?” The older man shrugged, Winnifred came up to prevent a screaming match or a physical fight. 

Bucky’s nostrils flared. “I’m going to do the big proposal thing, and I’m going to have the big wedding and the honeymoon and I’m going to be a good husband and I’m going to do all that is needed to win her over, and get her to love me, father I listened, but I have some things I want set up for her.” 

“Talk. To. Henry.” George snipped. 

Bucky huffed, before walking towards the man whom he had a plentiful amount of respect for and that was Y/n’s father he stood waiting as a woman hit on the man probably for his money Bucky excused himself into the conversation. “James.” Henry spoke in a neutral tone. 

“Hello Mr. Y/l/n, um I want to talk about the union between me and Y/n.”  He spoke to the man. 

“What is it James?” Henry asked the younger man. 

Bucky inhaled sharply. “I want it to be like a normal marriage.” 

“I intended it to be a quote, ‘normal marriage’.” Henry told him as he slowly sipped on the drink in hand. 

“Not that type of normal, our normal.” Bucky emphasized.

Henry tensed at what he was implying. “I won’t ask that of my daughter, James, I’m not like you. I will not hurt her, rather I don’t care if it is physical or mental.” 

“I have never hurt her.” Bucky said with a clenched jaw.

“Tell a sixteen year old Y/n who was devastated when you told her that all she was useful for was to get married and to look pretty, she has a very successful career as a lawyer. I won't ask her to give it up for something she has worked for.” Henry told him. “If you want it you work up the balls and talk to my daughter.”

#bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x yn #bucky x you #mob!bucky x reader #bucky x reader mob au #avengers mob au #mob au bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes x reader #mafia bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia bucky x reader

[shreddedparchment]

Perennial Pt.17

You Can’t Hurry Love

06/20/2022

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 2,813

Warnings: angst, language, fluff, confessions, jealousy, bucky being dumb

Featured Flower: Crushed cornflower, crushed hydrangea, crushed ranunculus

A/N: I’m sorry I’m taking so much time in between updates. Things have been a little stressful at home but I’ll make sure to make more time for you all. xoxo

Please DO NOT repost, copy, or translate my work to other sites or blogs!

Don’t be a dick.

"Wait!" Bucky’s calling but you're livid.

Your steps are pounding the pavement as you swerve through the morning crowds as they make their way to work. Some of them give you annoyed looks as you bump into them.

Some of them glance at the beautiful and finished bouquet that you hold at your side, hanging down by your leg. A few of the white petals from the hydrangeas litter your path up the sidewalk.

Your face is still hot from anger, embarrassment, and your crying. You reach up with your other hand and wipe at your cheeks then nose as you sidestep someone waiting at a crosswalk and don't even pay attention to the fact that you don't have the right of way.

You make to cross as your mind replays the moment Bucky kissed you and despite yourself, your emotions betray you.

Happy? Yes! Bucky likes you!

This is everything you've been dreaming about but he's sorry?

Sorry?!

If he's sorry, then he must have known!

Every moment that made your heart pound and flutter and your stomach flip and your palms sweat and your heart ache…he must have known what he was doing.

He calls your name, again. And again.

Finally, smooth leather catches your wrist just as you're about to step onto the street.

A taxi honks and your body is pulled back then turned.

"Are you crazy?! Do you wanna get hit by a car?" Bucky asks, somewhat angry himself but that vanishes and his hand loosens around your wrist a bit.

You yank your hand away and shove him.

People are staring now. Some of them recognize Bucky and the younger ones watching start pulling out phones to record.

Crying girl holding a bouquet of flowers is pushing Sergeant Barnes angrily? Drama!

The internet is gonna flip.

"How long did you know?" You demand and shove him again. "How long did you play with me knowing how I felt?"

“I didn’t know-” he tries.

But you cut him off, “When you danced with me? Right before you disappeared for months? When you stayed with me in my apartment and held me after Paul? At the park? Or after your breakup at your place? When, Bucky?”

You shove him after each incident. There are many smaller incidents too. Less meaningful ones. Smiles and laughs and touches that literally could mean nothing but the look he’d given you always stung.

“I didn’t know.” Bucky assures you, catching your arms on the last shove as your bouquet falls to the ground.

With a sigh he looks around at the gathering crowd and embarrassed he stoops over to pick up your bouquet then takes your hand and drags you into the first open shop he sees. A furniture store with really high end pieces.

The smell of cedar and pine and fresh paint overcome your nose and you look around to take in your surroundings but also notice a few of the filming people follow to film through the window while keeping a somewhat respectable distance.

Bucky turns to you, fixing your flowers before taking your hand and placing them there. He presses them to your chest and you let him, feeling a trickle of tears spill over to renew the tracks on your cheeks.

“Hello, Welcome to-” the older woman running the shop had come forward to assist you but at the sight of you and the people filming through her window she smiles awkwardly and points to the counter at the back. “I’ll be back there if you need some help.”

Bucky gives her a tight smile and nods then focuses on you as she walks away.

“Look, I-I didn’t know how you felt about me until the night at the bar with Steve and you disappeared. I didn’t know how I felt until that night either but I think I’ve loved you for a long time.”

You sob once, no extra tears, just the sound of him saying those words gives you some type of agonizing relief that you aren’t sure you’ve ever felt before in your life.

Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets, probably in an attempt to try and keep them to himself. If he does feel the same way you do, then he probably wants to hold you just as much as you want him to, right?

“Now that I think back to it, I should have realized sooner. I wanted to see you all the time and you were always my favorite person to be around, but I was also with Kali and she was what I wanted. I did like her. A lot. It's not like I didn't. She was sweet and kind and good with kids.”

“Seriously? You wanna talk about your ex right now?” You gripe at him with frustration, jealousy turning your tears to anger.

Bucky scoffs and laughs softly before giving in and reaching out to touch your arms.

“Shit, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to explain myself. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. I was distracted by the idea of Kali and I didn’t realize that what we had could turn into more. You’ve been such a good friend to me. You helped me put myself back out there.

“If it wasn’t for your help with that first bouquet I don’t think I would have gone through with that first date much less a second. I just…I didn’t see you. I didn’t understand. It's not like…when I say that I've loved you, I mean it but it's not like it's always been romantic. Slowly, I think, after me and Kali broke up what we had sort of shifted and it wasn't until that night drinking with Steve that I was sure what I was feeling was that I wanted you.

"I’m sorry. That’s what I’m apologizing for. Not because I deliberately tried to hurt you, and I know that I did–and I wanna try and make up for that in every way possible–but I’m sorry that I didn’t know everything I wanted was already right there.”

You sniffle, staring up at him then looking down at his chest for a bit as you try not to let his words make you swoon. It’s difficult. He’s saying all the right things and you’d be damned if you said you didn’t want to just give in and be with him and that be that.

You’ve waited so long for him. So many nights spent hugging your pillow wishing he would just look at you. Why couldn’t he see how much you wanted to be with him?

“I know I can’t ask for your forgiveness, honestly it’s partially because I don’t quite understand what moments I should be asking for. Clearly the dancing crossed a line and the head scratches at my place?”

You nod.

“What else?” He urges you.

You sniffle again and reach up to wipe at your cheeks and nose again.

“Come on,” he gives you a small shake, reaching down to tug on your skirt twice as he urges you to speak. “Tell me.”

You meet his gaze and sigh, “The day at the park. When I was having a picnic by myself and you and Kali showed up and you stole a bite directly from my hand? Your mouth closed up all around my fingers. Dumbass.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up and his face turns a little red, “Oh.”

You feel your own face heat up again and your ears burn as you remember the tingles you felt all over your body.

“Oh,” Bucky repeats. “I…I guess that would kinda make you a little…a little flustered?”

You smack his chest and he smiles, reaching up to wrap his fingers around your fist.

“When else?”

You’re aware he’s much closer now, his chest almost touching your flowers.

“That night with Paul, and you held me on my bed,” you remind him.

“Really? I have to apologize for that?” He asks, completely hurt by it for some reason. “I didn’t know that it would mean anything. I just wanted to comfort you. You were scared.”

“Bucky, as my boyfriend, if you EVER go around holding girls in their bed to comfort them I will literally hire Steve and Sam to kill you and dispose of the body so that no one can find you. Who the fuck does that while they have a girlfriend?” You ask him angrily.

In the moment, the comfort had felt so good, but what would Kali have thought?

You can see him thinking about it.

“Seriously?” You demand. “Fine, then imagine I meet some guy. He’s my friend. He’s going through something traumatic and I decide to go over to his place to offer him some support and comfort. And I decide to just lay down with him on his bed and hug him all night. Even if it doesn’t mean anything at the time, even if it’s innocent, how would that make you feel?”

“Uh…-”

“Okay then, Steve. What if I hold Steve all night, in his bed, his head on my chest, arms around my waist, legs intertwined-”

“Okay! Alright, I get it. I get the picture,” Bucky says, cutting you off as his own jealousy gets the better of him. “I already have the image of you sitting on his lap, I don’t need the image of you laying beside him like that too.”

So he gets it!

“I guess that wasn’t fair to Kali, or you. I’m sorry,” he acknowledges and reaches up to scratch at the back of his head. “I just…with you I never thought about stuff that way. Not at the time. Not from Kali’s perspective either. I guess I wasn’t being fair to her either, having you so close that entire time.”

You frown because you need to own up to your own fault in this.

“You just told me that all of that was platonic for you. Whatever I was feeling aside, I should have put more of a boundary between us because I was the one in love with you,” you admit. “I owe her an apology. Even if you two didn’t work out, I felt how I did and I still let you get close. I wanted you to, and that’s so wrong of me.”

Your guilt makes the moment feel wrong in a way but Bucky shakes his head.

“I was the one with the girlfriend. I shouldn’t have been acting that way.” He says, almost refusing to let you take some of the blame.

How is he so sweet under all that attitude he's been hiding under?

“Anyway,” you press on, trying to find your way back to your anger. “How do I know you’re not going to do the same thing to me?”

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky asks, sighs, and then reaches out, both hands placed on the sides of your head.

He strokes your cheeks, your chin, then finally rests his palms along the sides of your neck as he wraps his fingers around it from either side.

He isn’t angry. He doesn’t sound frustrated. Just surprised.

“Do you have any idea how…” he stumbles over his words and can’t seem to find the right ones. “There’s no one like you out there. No one who can compare. Not just because it’s hard for me to put myself out there enough for people to get to know, but because of who you are as a person.”

Bucky smiles, dazzling you for a moment with pearly whites and an unbroken steel blue gaze, “I’ve never been a big believer in fate or destiny or any of that crap but I know you’re the one.”

"The one?" You ask in a whisper, ignoring the crinkle of the paper around your flowers as Bucky closes the space between you, leaning down and pulling you up to meet him.

"My one," he says softly and kisses you.

Both of you forget the cellphone cameras recording just outside.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re so glad the shop is closed. You’re so glad that you decided to just spend all of your time in your new apartment choosing wallpaper and flooring and cabinet colors and plants and that you’re not required to go outside for any of it.

The apartment is in rough shape. The carpet in most of the rooms save the kitchen is at least twenty years old and is in desperate need of being ripped up. The plumbing is bad. Just…bad. Water pressure sucks. Everything is outdated. The windows are broken in almost every room because the apartment has sat vacant for the last five years.

Because of all of this, because you don’t feel safe in your old place and the new place is in terrible shape, you shuffle along the floor of Bucky’s apartment and reach for the binder with the floor samples again and pull it onto your lap.

The TV is going but you’re not paying it any mind.

You hear his keys and hear the door open but your mind is so preoccupied you don’t register what you’re hearing.

“I’m home,” Bucky’s voice calls out and that brings you out of your renovation stupor and also sends a wave of butterflies fluttering down in your tummy.

You look up towards the hallway just as he walks in and he smiles as he sets his keys down and removes his jacket.

“You’re back early,” you gasp, somehow still made breathless by him despite living with him for a few days now.

“It was just a briefing. Sam is headed out on his own and I might meet him if he needs me. What are you doing?”

You look down at the binder.

Bucky moves to sit in the armchair beside you. You’re sitting in his nest, the pillow and blanket that he keeps on the floor where he sneaks to every night and thinks you don’t notice.

He places one hand on the back of your head and it pulls your attention up to him, “I’m choosing floors.”

“Hi,” he smiles at you, hearing you but deciding to focus on more pressing matters.

“Hi,” you bite your lip.

“My kiss?”

You nearly melt into a puddle at how deep and soft his voice is. You reach up and grab the front of his shirt and pull him down towards you until his lips meet yours.

Your brain is thrown into a pink fog where Bucky is the end all be all of your thoughts. The soft push of his lips sends your heart into a frenzy and the rest of your body responds too.

Pushing yourself up, you settle between his legs, knees on either side of your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss with him.

He slides his fingers down under the waistband of your shorts and as his skin grazes the slope of your rear you break the kiss to catch your breath.

“I missed you,” Bucky whispers, sending shivers down your spine.

“Bucky…” you call his name, voice breathy and your heart absolutely pounding.

The heat between your two bodies is suffocating and all you wanna do is rip both yours and his clothes off but then the TV is all you can hear.

“It was super romantic. I didn’t know that Bucky Barnes was such a sweet guy. He was so gentle with her.”

It’s a young voice speaking. You don’t recognize it.

The sound of Bucky’s name however pulls both of your attentions away from each other and onto the new story playing on the screen. You turn around to sit, Bucky’s hands move gently to rest on your shoulders.

“My cousin is always going on about the Avengers and when they let the Winter Soldier join them after everything he’d done, my friends and I all thought they might have been making a mistake but after seeing him with that girl, he’s really not the same person.”

“Bucky…” you say again, this time the worry that laces your voice brings his hands up to your neck where he massages gently in an effort to calm you.

“I guess I shouldn’t have chased you so publicly the other day, huh?” he scoffs in amusement.

The new anchor says something about a video and suddenly you and Bucky are on screen. You’re shoving him, crying, angry, and then the camera follows you to the shop you’d gone into and the recording continues but there’s no more of what you and Bucky are saying.

You can see him proclaiming himself to you again, deliberately trying to meet your eyes and reassure you, and your bodies are getting closer and closer. Then you’re kissing. It’s just there, right in front of the entire world.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim, absolutely mortified.

“Well,” Bucky shrugs. “At least they’ll all know I’m taken.”

#bucky x florist!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #perennial #bucky x reader fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel au #flowershop au #bucky barnes x reader fanfic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier x reader

[chrisdrysdale]

These are for you

+18 minors dni if you do you will be blocked!!!!

Summary: Bucky just wants to make it up to you

Warnings: Angst, screaming, crying, arguing, major plot twist, heavy sadness.

A/N: I got this idea from a fanfic tiktok but i can’t find it, if you find it please link it!!!

“Bucky you don’t understand, I can’t deal you doing this anymore” you shouted at him as he put away the first aid box.

“Y/N honey, it’s my job, I need you to calm down” he tried to approach you but you moved away.

“it’s hurting me Bucky, I hate seeing you like this”

You freeze over the kitchen counter where Bucky’s file sat. You saw a future date with “next mission” marked beside it. “3 day? 3 FUCKING DAYS?!” You shouted at him, storming over with the file in your hands, shoving it into his face. “You just got back, and now I have 3 days till you have to go again! This isn’t fair!”

“How is this not fair Y/N? It’s my fucking job, you expect me to just not work”

You sat down on the couch, slamming the file down on the coffee table. You prop your elbows on your knees, pressing your palms in to your eyes as tears fall out.

Bucky takes a breath and hunkers down beside you and places his hands on you knee, you jerk away from him. “Oh Y/N don’t be like that for fucks sake, so what I have to go on a mission, you’ll be fine”

You look at him with disgust “I’ll be fine? You really don’t know me at all do you!? You think I’m fine when you leave? I completely break down when you leave, I can’t sleep and I can’t function properly-”

you get up and walk over to him, with your finger out as you began poking his chest. “because I’m too busy worrying about you, but no you think i’m fine, so your clearly not worrying about me”

Bucky grabs onto your wrists and slightly twists, without thinking “You think I don’t wor-“ you cut him off with a little whimper from the pain shooting through your wrists, he let go quickly as your wrapped you hand around your bruising wrists “shit! fuck! I’m sorry”

He moved closer to you but you back away in fear, tears threatening to spill over in your eyes. “Y/N please”

You looked down at your wrist and then back up at Bucky “Do you even love me, honestly, sometimes I think you love work and you’re stupid job then me”

There was silence

“Well Bucky? Do you? Do you love me?”

He didn’t answer

“Fucking ridiculous” you mumbled as you grabbed your car keys and stormed out the door, Bucky chasing after you “Y/N wait!”

“Leave me alone” you replied, back in your normal tone as you got into the car.

Bucky watched you drive away, standing in the door way, his eyes filling with tears “please come back” he whispered

The fight ended in a few days, Bucky was meeting you in an old garden. He had everything he wanted to say planned out and even got you white roses. Your favourite

He spotted you in the grass and slowly approached and hunkered down beside you “Hi”

He gave the flowers a tight squeeze around the stem

“These are you for you” he said before laying them down in front of your grave

“Your favourite” he sobbed out reading the words, engraved on your stone

y/f/n y/s/n

fiancé • daughter • fighter

10 minutes after you left the house that night, you were in a collision with another car, your injuries were too much to handle for your frail body and eventually it gave up. Bucky was torn, Sam came to the door to break the news to him, and he just collapsed, sobbing into Sam’s arms telling him how he completely screwed things over with you and know he can never fix them

It took Bucky a couple weeks to recover. He couldn’t even attended the funeral.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make funeral, too sad” He cried placing his hand on the side of the stone before shuffling over and pressing his head against it. “I was so stupid and i’m sorry” he placed a trembling kiss onto the side. “I never answered your question, I love you so fucking much, more then I will ever love anyone, and now i’ll never get to spend my life with you because I messed it”

-Fin

#bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky fanfiction

[soldierswar]

Broken Mirrors - Chapter III

Bucky x Reader

Angst

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence

Chapter Plot: You learn more about this mysterious person with your face, along with what your role will be working alongside Bucky.

Previous and future chapters

..............................................................................................................................

 You were dizzy. In fact, you felt like you were going to throw up.

            Everything started when a man…The man who was supposedly your little doppelganger’s father, (aka Richard), joined you all in the living room seconds after you and her caught eyes with each other. 

            The name Richard really suited him. If he had asked you what you would have guessed it to be, you probably would have guessed Richard. 

            He was a tall, slim white man with silver hair and sharp facial features dressed in a grey suit looking like he had just arrived from a business meeting on Wall Street.

            When he had come into your line of vision seconds after you met eyes with the girl, he placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder from behind giving it a comforting squeeze while acknowledging you with a nod before announcing, 

            “Mia…I’d like to introduce you to your sister.”

            The girl…Mia, mouth agape looked like she had a million words to say, but couldn’t utter a single one. Her eyes carried an expression that consisted of a mixture of confusion, hurt, and even betrayal. 

Long story short, she didn’t know that she was adopted until she was 13; which you thought was pretty fucked up. You were always confident in the fact that you preferred knowing that you were being raised by your aunt and uncle never feeling the illusion that you had parents.

            When the whole subject of this little ‘family reunion’ took place, Bucky made his way in and out of the room. He didn’t really care much to be involved in things that weren’t really his business. So he made himself comfortable in the kitchen attacking the scotch housed in a pretty expensive looking decanter while sporadically but covertly listening in to see if the conversation turned into something that he was concerned with.

            Richard had told the story about what had happened after your mother died. He and his wife who were apparently good friends with your biological father wanted a child. At the same time, your aunt and uncle wanted a child to raise too. So instead of fighting over who would get the both of you, they decided that it would be best to split the two of you apart.

You held back the need to point out how corny his version of of events were. Especially considering the plethora of movies with the same plotline. 

            For you, the truth behind that decision to split the two of you up was obvious. Your uncle wanted to raise you to be the assassin that you had just finally become and be part of the legacy and bloodline that he was afraid would end with him. The last thing that you needed was the distraction of a sheltered sister that lived a normal life. Also, the last thing it would be is wise for you to even associate yourself with anyone outside of Unity. The two of you knowing each other could or would have been a huge mistake. 

A mistake that was happening now. 

            Your gaze constantly darted between Richard and Mia. But when you did, you found yourself unable to look at her for too long. It would be an understatement to say that you felt unsettled staring at a complete replica of yourself sitting exactly the same way that you were on the couch and catching herself to stop doing that annoying little nervous tick that you were guilty of doing also. You wondered if she had the same little permanent mark on her knuckle.

            “How could you not tell me that I had a fucking sister?” she croaked angrily eyes filled to the brim of unshed tears. 

Before that moment, she hadn’t spoken a word due to her holding them back the entire time he was confessing about your guys’ past.

            She then looked at you like she was waiting for you to add along to her thoughts. But what were you supposed to say? He was hiding a lot more than you or she could ever know, but you weren’t sure how much she should actually hear. You weren’t even sure how much you were even ready to hear.

            The beginnings of a sympathetic smile reached his lips. He looked like he wanted to go over and hug her, comfort her, and take every shred of hurt that she felt away. But the way that she glared at him with red eyes gave him a clear message to not go near her. You knew that look all too well. If she was anything like you on the inside she probably had something akin to murder on her mind.  

            You decided to break up the depressing moment and say what was really going on in your mind.

            “Question,” you butted in.

            “Before we continue the excuses about the lies we grew up with, how about you tell me what the fuck I’m doing here right now of all times.” 

            “Y/N…” 

            “Actually, I have a couple. One, how the fuck did you know where I live?” 

You then turned to point at Bucky who nonchalantly stood in the kitchen preoccupied with his drink and his phone.

            “And two…Why did him coming for me make way more sense than your entire presence does right now?”  

            Bucky’s eyebrows were raised and he seemed to not be nearly as bored as he had been for the past 45 minutes. 

            Richard looked over to Mia for a split second giving her a look that suggested to you that he was anxious about the undoubtedly heavy subjects that were about to take place. You had a feeling that you were also probably going to have to brace yourself. 

            “Y/N, I know about what you did. What you’ve been…raised to do,” he confessed. 

            “Yeah, no shit,” you snapped back.

“He had pictures.”

            You didn’t notice when Bucky had left the kitchen, but he was now leaning against the wall that was behind the couch only 5 feet away from you.  

            “I want to know why I’m here today of all days.” 

            “I think you’re smart enough to know the answer to that question,” Bucky answered.

            The only person in the room that seemed confused was Mia…You hoped it would stay that way for just a little bit longer. You weren’t in the mood to aggravate the poor girls’ pending aneurysm just yet. 

“Y/N, what has your uncle told you about your identity?” 

You turned to Bucky giving him a confused frown. That wasn’t a question that you were expecting.

“My…identity?” 

Richard nodded. 

What kind of an inquiry was that?

“I mean you seem to know quite a bit about it, so why don’t you attempt to tell me something that I don’t know.” 

“I mean,” he began before you interrupted. 

“Is this where you try to do some sort of intervention and try to tell me that I’m so much more than this? That I don’t need to be under my uncle’s thumb?” 

“Not quite...” 

Now you were getting annoyed. He really needed to get on with it.

“Did you know that when you search any type of records under the name Y/N, Y/L/N you get nothing?” 

Another thing that you weren’t expecting.

“What do you mean?” you questioned. 

“What I said,” he answered. 

You glared at him while flaring your nostrils.

“Well assuming you’ve tried hard enough, did you try searching through my dead father’s last name, Forbes? Who knows, maybe even my aunt’s maiden name?” 

He shook his head. 

“You could try any possibility of any type of familial ties and you can’t find a thing? Even if you search with my last name?” 

He nodded.

Weird that he even thought to do that but okay.

“So what does that mean? I don’t exist?” 

He let his silence be the answer to the question.  

There was no way that that was true. You had passports, ID’s, hell, you even had your birth certificate. 

“Y/N, how many passports do you have?”

There was no way you were giving this guy any incriminating information about yourself that he didn’t already know the answer to. 

“Four? Five?” 

The answer was 8, some of them under different names, but he got nothing from you.

“And how many of those ID’s did your uncle just bring to you?” 

All of them. 

 And when you got even the first one…did you take a photo that was supposed to be used for those documents at home?”

Yes.

Your continuous silence was enough of an answer for him.

“Y/N, other than the documents you claim to have…Do you have any real proof that to the government you exist?” 

A wave of anxiety hit you. 

He wasn’t right about this. He couldn’t be right about this. This had to be some type of mistake. 

“What’s your point?” you snapped. 

He took a nervous deep breath.

“I’m telling you this because by government record you may not exist,” he then points to Mia. 

“But she does.” 

“And why is that any of your concern?” 

Then the realization then hit you like a ton of bricks. 

Anybody that searched for you could lead to her. And this was why she was currently in this secret hideaway. 

This wasn’t necessarily about you, but it was about her. 

“Richard tested me on whether or not I could find you by your picture alone,” Bucky chimed in.

“You know, the one that I showed you? He didn’t give me any other information than you being the girl behind what happened in Atlanta and a few of the other stuff that you’ve done in the past few months. And after only hours of looking for any leads all I could find was a girl with your face who was beginning her role as a principal dancer in a ballet company, and her address.” 

Mia’s eyes widened as she seemed to be putting two and two together about what you had done. How could she not? There was no other real news emerging from Atlanta.

“The only reason Sergeant Barnes even found you was because I of course knew about you.” 

She seemed to have a second eureka moment.

“Dad is this why I was…” 

Her voice trailed off and her battle with her tears ended as a few fell down her cheeks. 

“You were what?” you responded nervously.

There was a pause between the two. 

“7 years ago when Mia was about 19, she was kidnapped.” 

19…19…19…Why did this ring alarms in your head?

“She didn’t know what was going on, but after 3 days we were able to find her and convince the people that took her that she was not the person that they were looking for.” 

19…19…19…

Ohhhh shit.

When you were 19 you were out on an assignment in Japan. Somebody that worked for the people that you were spying on tried to kidnap you in your hotel room. But before they were able to so much as lay a finger on you, you killed the guy. He was your first kill. 

“I’m guessing that because they didn’t know about the two of us it led straight to Mia first…” you murmured in revelation.

Richard nodded. 

Your heart dropped, and an intense pang of guilt came over you. All of this was happening because of you. You knew this wasn’t your fault as much as it wasn’t hers. Yet you couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Let me guess. The people that know what I did that don’t quite work for the government know what I did to the senator might be on the search for me now…And the easy target might be her if they figure out who did it.” 

“Afraid so,” Bucky confirmed.

“Who is it?” you questioned. 

“How familiar are you with Ingrid Watson?”

This caught your attention.

“You mean one of my uncle’s oldest opponents? Very.” 

Long ago, Ingrid and your uncle were very old friends. But about a decade before you were born she went rogue and did many things to spite him including turning some of Unity’s best people against them. 

You continued to keep your focus on Bucky not daring to look at Mia.

“And why are you involved?” you asked.

“Let me guess…Did they have ties to–” 

“Hydra?” he interrupted before you could say it. 

“I recognized a name and face or two.” 

This didn’t surprise you. After Hydra disbanded the ones that weren’t caught and brought to justice turned their loyalties to anyone that they thought could protect them. Some tried coming to Unity but they were swiftly refused.

“Okay, so what do you want me to do, take her out?” 

“You get one job done and you’re that cocky already?” Bucky snorted.

You shot dagger eyes at him. 

He ignored the anger and continued. 

“We need to figure out what her next move is. She’s almost certainly beyond pissed that her little project is done with and will go to whatever her plan B is after she figures out who to punish.” 

He was right. From what you had heard about her, she wasn’t one to let anything slide without consequences. It was crazy to you that he was tied to her. But if your higher ups knew about it, the hit job made sense. 

“And let me guess. You want me to work with you to get to her…But not kill her before she reaches her goal.”

“And you seem to be one of the only people that can really help us,” Bucky added.

Translation: ‘We know that if you don’t help us you could be putting your innocent estranged twin in danger, so what other choice do you have?’ 

You made a once over at everybody in the room. All of whom in a sense depended on you despite the fact that your mere existence or ironically lacktherof was putting an innocent girl in danger. And you had to do all of it behind your uncle’s back. 

You were so fucked.

…

In contrast to the escape plan that you thought that you would have had to make when you arrived at the cottage/underground bachelor pad of a sanctuary, you were allowed to go home. Or rather, Bucky was allowed to escort you home. 

Bucky made you put the mask back on for the duration of the two hour drive, but now he was letting you sit in the front seat.

After an hour of driving, Bucky broke the silence. 

“Since when are you not talkative?”  

You didn’t answer. You just let yourself continue to stare into space processing what you had just learned about your past, present, and fearing the unknown about the future. 

Bucky didn’t accept the silent treatment.

“Did you really not know that you had a twin out there?” 

Again, your only answer was silence. 

“Do you think you’re going to try to see her again?” 

You shrugged. 

“I might have to,” you murmured softly. 

“So she speaks,” he announced.

Silence again.

“Did you know that it was Ingrid that was associated with the senator?” 

You shook your head. 

“My job isn’t really to ask questions,” you answered. 

“ I was given a task, and my job was to execute it. Maybe one day I’ll be given more clearance to know more answers.” 

“And you’re not worried about doing tasks as heavy as killing somebody in broad daylight for reasons that you can’t even fully comprehend?”

You knew where he was getting at with these pressing questions. It was time to set the record straight. 

“I know that what I’m doing is good, okay?” you huffed.

“Do you?” 

“Yes!” you snapped. 

“Listen. I get why you of all people are concerned about this, but we’re just doing the right thing to try to steer what’s going on in the right way behind the shadows. To protect the world from people like Ingrid that are also working behind the shadows for the wrong reasons. We’re not trying to dominate the world and create a doomsday of sorts.”  

“Coming from someone who just killed a man who could have become the president.” 

Oh this motherfucker had nerve.

“Someone who got to the position that he was in because of the person that we’re literally trying to not so figuratively disarm,” you argued.

He sighed. 

“So what comes after?” he questioned. 

“You go back to blind loyalty to the people that literally stripped your existence into oblivion?” 

“He had a reason for what he did.”

“Oh, and what is that?” 

You crossed your arms and let yourself sink down in your seat feeling defeated.. 

“I don’t know yet…” 

He let you have another few minutes of silence before getting to the important conversation. 

He asked you about how difficult it might be for you to sneak into the files that your uncle may or may not have on everything. You went on the explain that it wouldn’t be easy. But your friend Adam had access to almost all of it. All you had to do was find a way to sneak into his house and use the methods that he had taught you himself on how to break into the system. 

You didn’t miss the look look on his face processing why you never decided to go in yourself and look. 

“I’ll join you,” he said. 

“The fuck you are,” you snorted.

“Just…Meet me at my apartment on Thursday. You obviously know how to get past my security system.”

“You can get that info you need in just two days?” he questioned. 

You flared your nostrils at him.

“How bad do you think I am at my job?” 

He put a hand up in surrender. 

“Okay. Two days,” he confirmed. 

You nodded in satisfaction.

If this car ride indicated anything, the period of time that you would have to be working with him was going to be exhausting. 

Fuck.

End of chapter notes: Hey guys, I'm so grateful for my new readers. This is def more of necessary a backstory chapter, but there are going to be a lot more fun Bucky x Y/N moments to come.

Tagged: @lethallyprotected @ryunniez

#bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader fanfic #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader funny #reader #twin reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fanfiction #white wolf

[buckyalpine]

40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.

Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.

You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.

Bucky was in love.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"

“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"

“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.

"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.

He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.

How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.

So much closer.

-

"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"

You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.

“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.

"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"

"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.

All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-

“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"

You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”

His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.

"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.

Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.

-

You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.

"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.

"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.

You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.

"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"

He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.

"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.

"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.

But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.

If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.

You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.

"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.

Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.

Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-

“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"

"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .

“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”

His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.

“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

-

And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.

There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.

The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.

Everything was perfecttt.

#40s bucky barnes #40s bucky #40's bucky #40s bucky barnes x reader #bucky banes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x nurse reader #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fanart #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x smut

[gutsby]

Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?��� he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #mob bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob bucky #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky barnes

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Aftercare | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Soft!Dom!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Bucky takes care of you after he fucked you.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 267

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (M) mention of previous sex

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> Softdom Bucky Barnes + aftercare @nervouseden

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request. It’s pretty short but it’s a Drabble so hope you enjoy.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“It’s fine, isn’t it, babydoll?” Bucky asks while he pulls out of you.

Your breathing is still heavy, and you look through almost closed eyes at Bucky. Then you nod, showing him everything is fine even though you’re fucked out.

“Good girl, you are always doing so well for me,” he praises, leaning down to kiss your stomach.

Bucky’s hands slide up and down your sides, caressing your soft, sweaty skin. His brown hair is stuck in his face, and sweat is running all over his body. Your boyfriend smirks at you while he moves his kisses over your breast. Enjoying the soft moans that are leaving your lips.

“Feeling good, babydoll?”

“Y-yes. Just tried,” you mumble, sliding your hand through his wet hair.

“Let me clean you, and then we can cuddle and you can sleep a bit,” he tells you, biting softly into your soft skin.

Your back is arched, and your breast is pressing against his. Bucky smirks when he kisses along your jawline, making sure every bit of skin gets a bit more attention now. It doesn’t matter how hard he fucked you before; when the two of you are finished, he always places a lot of kisses all over your body until you calm down from your high. Bucky isn’t cleaning the two of you before you smile at him and make sure you’re feeling perfectly fine.

“Mhm- Bu-“ you mumble when he leaves some marks all over your neck.

He chuckles, capturing your lips before he gets up and into the bathroom to get something to clean the two of you.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden

#marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader smut #bucky smut #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky x yn #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader

[welldonebeca]

Glitter and Goo (II)

Summary: When you have to go on a mission to a different planet together, Bucky is hit by a mating ritual flower, and some feelings you two have been hiding come up. AKA: It’s a sex pollen fic with a side of breeding kink. WC: 1.8k words Warnings: Romantic tension. Fluff. Dirty talking. Sex promises.

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Masterlist

You fixed yourself dinner, lemonade forgotten, barely processing the taste of the food as you watched the way in front of you.

Space was beautiful. It was so strange to see those stars so clearly.

Yet, it was so scary sometimes.

You got something ready for Bucky too, saving it for when he'd wake up, putting some music on before moving off to work on the research of the element already.

It was maybe two or three hours later that the sound of a phone call got your attention.

"FRIDAY, pick up," you asked.

The sound stopped for a moment, and you took your gloves off.

"Doctor Sparkles," Tony greeted. "Got time to talk?"

You scoffed at the silly nickname.

"What's up?"

"That sparkly thing you sent over," he told you. "Thor said it's pollen."

You rolled your eyes.

"No shit, Sherlock," you shifted to the other side, where you'd been working on the pollen. "I gave it a look under the microscope, but I'm not exactly good at alien biology."

It just looked sparkly. Sparkly pollen, that was it.

"Anything on the goo?" you asked him. "It dried really fast, I didn't have time to take a second sample to look into it myself."

Maybe you could cut some of the fabric of Bucky's clothes. Even if it had dried, it could have left something there.

"We got someone smart looking into the one too," he told you. "Are they from the same plant?"

"Yep," you crossed your arms. "A flower exploded on Bucky. He got really grumpy about it."

There was silence on the other side.

"It exploded?" Tony asked. "Like... what?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Like a flower explosion, Tony," you told him. "What else can it mean?"

More silence.

"I gotta check something," he decided. "Are you going anywhere?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about visiting Pluto," you sassed back. "I heard it is really pretty this time of the year."

A sound caught your attention for a moment, and you looked in the direction of the dorm.

Had Bucky woken up.

"It's not worth it," Tony told you. "I'll be back in a minute."

He hung up, leaving you to scoff. It wasn't like you had anything else to do, anyway.

"Ma'am?" FRIDAY called. "Agent Barnes is behaving strangely."

That made you stiffen up.

What?

"Define strangely?"

The damn pollen.

You pulled up a tranquillizer from the side of your table.

If it had made him violent, it was best not to even get close to him.

"He has broken his bed, ma'am," the system told you. "And... I believe he's trying to copulate with your pillow."

He was...

"What?" you shouted back. "What do you mean, he's trying-"

But another call came through again.

"It's Tony, ma'am," it told you.

You grunted, covering your face with a hand.

"Pick it up," you cocked the tranquilliser. "Tony, tell me you have good news, because I think I have a problem."

"I do," he told you. "And it isn't venomous."

You sighed. Good, at least that.

"The flower that Bucky might have encountered is part of the mating rituals of-"

"Quick answer," you interrupted him, worry already filling you. "I don't have time for the sociology lesson."

He snorted a bit.

"It's a sex flower," he told you. "It makes you horny for your mate and facilitate reproduction of a highly infertile-"

You blinked, shocked.

"Wait, it's a sex pollen?" you asked. "Tony, this isn't funny!"

Where had he gotten that explanation from? Someone's fanfiction story?!

But he laughed on the other side.

"Except that it is!" he corrected you. "It enhances romantic and sexual attraction towards one's mate-"

"Mate?"

Was he talking about animals?

"It is actually highly sought after by some Asgardians struggling with their fertility," Thor spoke on the other side. "It quickens up the production of eggs and sperm to ensure reproduction."

You had to pinch yourself to react, still shocked.

What the fuck?

"And how does that affect humans?" you asked.

You were met by a bit of a hum.

"We don't have many answers on that," Tony answered at last. "But probably the same as Asgardians?"

"If so, there's nothing to worry about," Thor assured you, not sounding worried at all. "It only hits those who are actively around their partners."

You glanced back at the dorm. Well, that didn't sound very right.

"Partners?" you asked. "Like boyfriends and girlfriends? Wives, husbands, spouses...?"

He confirmed with a hum.

"Yeah. People who we have strong romantic and sexual feelings for, a bit more than just passion," he told you. "Bucky will be just fine."

"Ma'am," FRIDAY called. "Agent Barnes has dented the wall with a punch. I believe the door can only resist another five of those before breaking, unless you activate quarantine mode."

That didn't seem to go over Tony.

"Wait, what?" he asked. "Why is he punching the ship?"

You stood up quickly.

"I gotta go check on him," you decided. "Thor, is there a chance he... might..."

Hurt you.

His voice was tainted with worry when he answered.

"Violence is unlikely," he told you. "Unless you try to keep someone away from their mate."

You exhaled slowly, trying to calm your racing heart.

Holy shit.

"Okay," you spoke slowly. "I'll call you back if I need anything else."

"Wait, what?" Tony gasped back. "Where are you going?"

But you pressed the screen near your station, hanging up.

You could hear grunts when you walked near the dorm and jumped in shock when you heard Bucky's fist against the door again.

"James!" you shouted. "What are you doing?"

He stopped.

"Y/N?" Bucky called suddenly, half whimpering. "Where are you?"

You neared the closed door.

"How are you feeling?" you asked, instead. "Are you alright?"

He knocked on the door, a little weaker.

"Please," Bucky begged. "I need you."

You swallowed down, eyeing the door, worried.

Was he going mad with lust?

"Please," he cried.

Heat pooled in your belly, a soft smell making your face warm.

Was that him?

He smelt so good.

"Please?" Bucky insisted.

You stopped your tranquilliser slowly, walking near the door, but when you tried to open it, it was locked.

"FRIDAY," you called. "Open the door."

There was a moment of hesitance.

"Are you sure, doctor?" the system asked. "It's still possible to put Agent Barnes in quarantine. It's only 36 hours until we arrive back home."

You shook your head. No, you wouldn't leave him alone.

"Open the door," you commanded once more. "Don't ask me again."

The sound of the locks moving was loud, and you opened the door slowly when you found it unlocked.

James didn't move when you stepped inside, just far enough from the door that you walked in easily.

His face was so flushed, and he was drenched in sweat.

You reached for him slowly, touching him gently on his cheeks, and he exhaled, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Where were you?" Bucky panted, sounding so sweet and yet so needy, his hands moving to cover yours. "Where had you gone?"

It broke your heard to hear him like that, so lost. You had left alone!

He watched you with his bright blue eyes so soft, and it was as if he hadn't been slamming the door moments ago.

"I'm sorry," you caressed his skin. "I was making dinner. Aren't you hungry?"

Bucky shook his head, hand moving down slowly, touching your body gently. First your waist, wrapping his arm around you so slowly that you knew you could step away and stop him any time you wanted.

He put his head in your neck, sniffing you, nuzzling into you as if you were the most precious thing he didn't want to let go.

You shivered when you felt him sniffing you, pressing close to you, his body hot.

His big hand travelled down a bit, near your hip.

"Hungry," he mumbled into your neck, licking your skin.

Bucky's fingers searched around your jumpsuit on your back, tugging on your jacket and your utility belt.

"Smell good," he whimpered. "Can smell you..."

You sighed out.

"Smell me?" you squirmed.

You could smell him good. It was so good.

"Smell you wet," Bucky hissed, unhooking your belt and throwing it away. “Smell your skin… wanna bury my head in your tits, find your sweet smell in them.”

You gasped, surprised.

"Bucky! Something could break!"

He tugged on your vest, lips travelling up and down your neck, and if he was that insistent there, you couldn't help imagining what he'd do if he put himself between your legs.

"Want to break you," he took his hands to your belly and pulling on the clasps of your best, nearly breaking them. "Make you mine. No one else will have you."

What?

He wasn't speaking any tense.

Bucky threw it away, grabbing the front zip of your suit and tearing it.

“Bucky!”

Did he know how hard it was to get a jumpsuit that fit your tits? They were too fucking big for most of them, you had to get a bigger size and adjust the rest of your body!

Still, you couldn’t complain as his big hand pushed into your clothes, grabbing your chest, squeezing your breast over your bra.

"No one else can have you," Bucky babbled. "You're mine."

Bucky took your clothes off so quickly you barely saw it, and he picked you up, laying you on the bed.

For a moment, you thought he would take you just like that, but he took off his clothes before moving and kneeling in front of the bed, looking at your face with such a soft pleading look on his face.

"Please?" he whispered. "Can I have you? Please?"

You swallowed down, leaning onto your elbows.

His mattress was practically on the floor, the legs broken, and it would be so easy for him to just crawl to you.

"Want to give you my babies," Bucky pleaded with you. "Want to be yours, please."

You swallowed down, breathing in deep. Oh, how good he smelt. You had to fight yourself not to bury your face into his neck and sniff him.

The flower... it had to do with mating rituals, wasn't it?

"What are you going to do?" you asked him.

Bucky swallowed down.

"I want to make you feel good," he promised. "I'll treasure you, I'll never let you go."

You pressed your thighs together, a bit warm between them.

His fingers clenched by his sides.

"I'll fill you up," Bucky promised. "You're so empty, aren't you? I'll give you everything!"

You swallowed down again, feeling your pussy clenching at the idea.

His babies. He was going to give you his babies, right?

Your eyes travelled down his body to his cock, and it was so hard. There was so much precum.

Oh, he was going to fill you up, right?! Give you his cum!

Bucky was going to breed you.

You nodded, sitting up.

"Please," you tried to grab his hand. "Please, Bucky."

…

“Glitter and Goo” was first posted on my Patreon on April 2023. To read it now, subscribe to my page, it’s just $2 a month and I post 6x a week.

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Glitter and Goo: @art2emily

#welldonebeca's glitter and goo #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fanfic #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader fanfic #bucky x reader smut #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x you smut #bucky x you fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x you fanfic #bucky barnes x you fic #bucky barnes x you smut

[sebastianstansqueen]

Hello! I just started reading ——- as hoping you could do this request (it’s absolutely fine if you don’t) but I had seen this tik tok where this girl explains that she’s never seen a story where a sunshine gets emotional and everyone expects sunshine to go someone but sunshine BOLTS to the grumpy character and sobs into them.

idk if any of that made sense but it made me think of a sunshine reader x bucky so if you have any time to write it i would love to read it but if you don’t that’s also fine

here’s the link to the tik tok

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTR9eNfko/

Title: Sunshine

A/N: Tell me what you think, feedback is always appreciated, if you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.  

Wordcount:  732

Warnings: Sad Reader, and protective Bucky, fluff

Masterlist //  Tagglists 

Taglist: @cherryblossomsky - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2writes - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel -

You had been sad for the last few days, because your neighbors had your dogs taken away, and now they lived with your parents, but you went into work your heart hurting and you were in the human resources department, and you may or may not have started a small in work relationship with Bucky, and no one knew, so no harm no foul. But you were hurting all you wanted was to go find him and talk it out. 

“You're dating Y/n from HR aren't you?” Tony smirked talking to Steve. 

Steve side eyed the man. “No.” 

“Oh I get it you don’t wanna get your little girlfriend in trouble.” Tony said still smirking and he walked away. Bucky heard the whole thing while just smirking at how wrong the ‘genius’ was, and he couldn’t help but laugh to himself. 

You just tried to continue even though you really just didn’t want to and so your boss came and talked to you. “What is going on?” She asked as she sat across from you. 

“It’s really nothing, I promise.” You shrugged as you typed up a report. 

She looked at you. “What is it?” “It’s stupid.” You sighed. 

She huffed. “Y/n, we literally take care of the avenger we make sure they are mentaly healthy enough to just go and save the world, and you aren't acting like you, usually you are happy go lucky and a ball of sunshine, so what is going on?” 

“My neighbors called animal control and had my dogs taken away as I was at work yesterday, and there with my parents clear on the opposite side of the city basically in nowhere land.” You ranted. 

“Take a break I don’t care for how long but take an hour to a two hour  long break.” She sighed, getting up and leaving. You sighed out of your computer, and headed to the Avengers common room to find Bucky.

Bucky had been his ‘usual’ moody self that day, just waiting till you get off from work, just to head over to your house and watch a movie and cuddle, but the elevator dinged opened, you walked in and of course every Avenger had to be in the common room at the moment, Tony kept his eyes on you waitin for you to go to Steve because of the sad look on your face, everyone on the team liked you, your kind and soft hearted, along with you brought baked goods to them more often than not.

Your eyes scanned the room, looking for one person, Bucky looked at you with furrowed brows he saw the sadness you were holding in your eyes. You briskly walked towards him, he pulled you into a tight hug, and you let out all of your feelings and started crying into his shoulder. What both of you didn’t see however was the shocked look on the whole rest of the team's face, and Bucky just whispered things along the lines of ‘it's okay’. What no one knew except Bucky himself was he already grew protective over you so once you told him everything that had happened in the last 24 hours he wanted to go to your neighbors house and demand they take back their complaint about your dogs. He also loved your Pitbull and German shepherd Named Pepper and Lulu, and he’d do just about anything to get you to smile. That night he went home with you, and once you fell asleep he went and talked to your neighbors and came down to an agreement, that you could bring your dogs back from your parents as long as while you were at work they went with you and he talked to Tony who agreed that Lulu and Pepper could stay with the team. 

So that night Bucky drove the almost two hour drive to your parents house, they loved him he was glad that he could still make an amazing impression on parents, and he told them  about the agreement that he made with your neighbors and he brought your dogs home that night once they walked through the door, the jumped on the couch where you’d fell asleep, and they licked your face until you woke up. You smiled wrapping your arms around both of your ‘babies’ as you called them, and your smile grew bright once again.

#bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #sad #bucky x reader sad #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x sunshine!reader #marvel #bucky x reader fanfiction #protective!bucky x reader

[shreddedparchment]

Perennial Pt.16

Don’t You Want Me

05/21/2022

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 3,032

Warnings: language, angst, pining, jealousy, heartbreak, grief, death, stupid guys being creepy as fuck

Featured Flower: Cornflower, Hydrangea, Ranunculus

A/N: Enjoy! That’s all I’ll say for this one. xoxo

Please DO NOT repost, copy, or translate my work onto any other sites or blogs! Don’t be a dick.

It’s no secret for you that things with Bucky have been changing gradually over the last few weeks.

He’s been different and a part of you is hoping that things are about to change. Change for good. Although you don’t let yourself think it for more than just a fleeting moment, you wonder if Bucky might actually, maybe has developed feelings for you too.

Your own heart is bursting at the seams with affection for him and he’s been so nice and sweet lately that you can’t help but hope.

You wake up and quickly sleepily slip into the kitchen to start your coffee before you wander over to the bathroom. You wash your face, brush your teeth, then do your hair before moving into your closet to pick something comfortable for the late summer.

It’s slowly starting to cool off outside as fall approaches so you choose a long simple dress. It stops just past your ankles, is stretchy, with pockets and a beautiful wine red color. The capped sleeves will keep you cool but the length will shield from any breeze you might come in contact with.

You wander back into the bathroom, consider doing your makeup and decide to wait until after you’ve had breakfast.

The smell of your coffee brewing fills the tiny space of your apartment and a gentle tap on your window pulls your attention before you can make it out of your bedroom.

You move to stand by it, staring out at Paul as he leans against the glass looking forlorn and ashamed.

“I came back last night?” he asks, knowing the answer.

“What do you want, Paul?”

“Your boyfriend got pissed at me,” Paul explains.

“My…?” your brain short circuits as you remember waking up to Bucky in your bed and you can’t believe you forgot he was here last night.

You’ve been so busy the past few weeks and the day had been exhausting, after crying into his chest for a few minutes you’d passed out. He must have slipped out some time in the early hours.

Your mind floods with the scent of him, the feel of his body next to yours, and finally the bruising and closing cuts on his face.

“I’m sorry, okay? I just…I don’t know, I’ve always liked you.” Paul’s words bring you back to the present and you frown at him.

“And I’ve already told you, I’m not interested. Why does it take my boyfriend telling you to leave me alone for you to take me seriously?” you demand, feeling more anger with Paul’s harassment than pleasure at calling Bucky your boyfriend even though he’s not.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Paul shrugs. “And an Avenger?”

You growl, turning away from the window and moving back towards the living room and kitchen.

“Fuck off, Paul.” You’re done being nice.

And actually, once the sale completely clears for the new building, you’re gonna move into that top apartment that’s been vacant for three years. Remodel the hell out of it, and make it your safe space away from the Pauls of the world.

You can hear him saying things through your window but you ignore him in favor of making your morning cup of joe. You pour ice into a tall glass and froth up your milk a little before pouring your coffee and adding all the fixings to make your favorite cup of iced goodness.

From your pocket you pull your phone and quickly find Bucky’s texts. Nothing new. Did he have meetings this morning?

You: Hey

You put the phone down and try to ignore the urge to stare at it until he responds in favor of making yourself a simple breakfast of oatmeal and fruit.

The phone buzzes.

Bucky: I’m a little busy. Meet me at that one café on 6th.

You put your spoon down and stare at the message before taking the phone up to respond.

You: I’m eating breakfast already.

Bucky: Just meet me, kid. Be a good girl.

You scoff, smirking at the gentle order.

You: You should know better than most that I am not a good girl. And I don’t take orders, dummy.

Bucky: Just get your ass down here. I’m already here.

You: Bucky! I’m literally having breakfast. I’m hungry.

Bucky: If you’re not here in the next half hour, I’m leaving.

You: Bucky!

Bucky: 29 minutes left…

“Shit,” you spit, then jump off your seat to go look for your boots. “So typical!”

You sit on the floor and pull them on, lacing them loosely and then sprint out the door. You hail a cab and hope that he can drive as fast as he looks like he can.

Whatever Bucky has planned, he better make it worth leaving your breakfast half eaten on the counter and your coffee slowly cooling.

~~~~~~~~~~

You arrive disheveled. You’re seriously a mess. Your hair isn’t done, your makeup? None. Not a stitch. You can feel the look of exhaustion on your face from the past few weeks of craziness.

You’re braced against the swinging glass door’s handle, sighing with frustration as the cool air of the shop hits you. While you definitely hadn’t run the entire way, you’re out of breath because of the small run from the cab to the shop and the utter panic you were in from being five minutes late.

Had he not waited?

You scan the small shop and don’t spot the familiar leather jacket or jeans and boots anywhere.

“He left,” you gasp, straightening up and placing your hand at the top of your stomach as you start to rifle through your purse for your phone.

Five minutes. He can’t have gone far, right?

You turn around to look out of the glass door and hope you might see him walking away or waiting somewhere, hiding, waiting to laugh at the look on your face because you actually thought he’d left.

“Looking for me?”

You whip around nearly dropping your phone as you find yourself face to face with the man you just can’t seem to get over.

“Uh…” your eyes do an involuntary sweep of him and Bucky is dressed to the nines. He’s got no leather jacket and no t-shirt underneath. Instead he’s wearing a blue button up. Not one of those stuffy and starched business shirts, but more of a casual button up, with a collar and button sleeves. He’s got the sleeves rolled up along his forearm.

His pants, instead of dark jeans, are dark gray heather that sit on his hips and waist perfectly clinging to his massive thighs but loosen as they reach his knees and calves.

He’s got his shirt tucked in and his shoes are plain black and white chucks. Despite the casual look of the outfit, it’s clear that he’s dressed to impress and you gape at him from head to toe until you meet his eyes again and notice his hair is more neatly combed and styled than it has been since you’ve known him.

“...h-hi.” Your voice is weak in surprise and because you’re still slightly out of breath. He’s still a little bruised up but it’s much less pronounced than it was yesterday. Almost healed.

He smirks at you, his steel blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I got us some coffee and muffins. Come on.” He reaches over and takes your purse from you which you struggle to unwind from your arm and shoulder but he pulls it away and leads you to a small table by the large windows that open to the street.

The café is somewhat busy with coffee orders to go but sitting patrons are few and it gives you two a little bit of privacy.

“You look nice,” Bucky tells you, hanging your purse on your chair as he angles himself a little more to face you.

You scoff and laugh both from nerves and because you feel like he’s teasing you.

“Yeah, right. I told you I was having breakfast. This is one of my house dresses and I didn’t get to fix my hair or put on makeup or anything,” you frown.

Bucky huffs one laugh at you, then gets up from his seat again as his name is called for his order. “You look beautiful. In anything.”

He leaves you with that, mouth open as you stare ahead at the faceless people walking by.

Did he just call you beautiful?

You reach up and try to do what you can with your hair but stop as soon as he’s setting two cups of coffee and the muffins he ordered down.

“Here, I hope I got it right. I couldn’t remember what you liked from here.” He turns your cup towards you and pushes it closer before serving you your muffin.

“Thanks,” you quickly pull your cup up and take a sip, relishing in the delicious drink–ordered just as you like–and lament the one at home waiting to be thrown out.

Bucky is already halfway done with his muffin by the time you decide to take a bite of yours.

“So, what’s up? Why did you want me to come so freaking early?” you munch as he stops to take a sip of his coffee and then he laces his fingers together, muffin abandoned, and he meets your eyes.

“I have a problem.” He says and your heart begins to race.

“O-oh?” Your heartbeat thumping in your brain drowns out all the other noises in the world.

“Yeah,” he continues, then he licks his lips and takes a deep breath. “See, I-I kinda met this girl, and I really wanted to get her one of your bouquets. You make the best flower bouquets, but you’re closed so I-I was kinda hoping that you’d come with me to the flower market and maybe we can make something up there? I know you’re not working and your cousin and all that just happened but I have a date and I could really use your help.”

“I-” you shut your eyes, urging the burning to go away. “I-I didn’t know you met someone.”

“You were gone for a while,” Bucky explains. “A lot can happen in a few weeks’ time.”

“I know. Yeah, I mean, I’m a billionaire now, right?” You laugh without humor, and can’t believe the stupid way you let your hopes go up thinking that there was any possibility that Bucky could feel the same way about you as you do about him. “So who’s the lucky girl?”

You avert your eyes, staring either out at the street and seeing nothing or down at your coffee cup, getting colder and colder as your appetite also disappears and your stomach begins to turn over.

“No one you know.” Bucky says. “Just some random girl I bumped into. One of those things you aren’t expecting to happen and then it happens.”

“Right,” you finally turn to him and give him as authentic a smile as you can while your chest caves in.

You hope he can’t see the utter pain and heartbreak on your face.

“So? How about we go get those flowers?”

“But you haven’t finished eating.” Bucky points at your nibbled muffin and your half drunk coffee.

“I’m not hungry,” you sigh and rise, taking your purse and slinging it over your shoulder. “Let’s hurry, or all the good flowers will be gone.”

“Hey,” Bucky calls but you don’t wait.

You can’t.

You have to move on. You hear him follow, but don’t turn to look at him. Looking at him is torture.

~~~~~~~~~~

The flower market is as busy as ever. Lots of people browsing, fellow shop owners stocking up, and just the general buzz of the city filling your ears. It’s easier to ignore the agonizing knife going through your heart over and over again in a crowd and amongst flowers, you lose yourself.

“So what’s she like? What flowers were you thinking?” You ask Bucky who has been walking beside you and wringing fidgeting the entire way here.

He’s probably picking up on your mood shift and is confused by it but you won’t clear it up for him. You have to get over this.

You can’t sit through loving him another moment and watch him be with someone else again.

It hurts too much.

The yearning. The wish that it were you. You can’t do it. You won’t.

You make a mental note to disappear for a few days to let all of this pent up emotion out and then when you come back into his life–because who are you kidding? You can’t actually cut him out of your life completely–you can be the friend he deserves.

You’ll listen to all his girlfriend troubles and eventually one day his wife troubles then kid troubles. By then, it won’t hurt to.

“Um,” Bucky begins, finally distracted by your question and moving to look around at the options. “I was thinking these? Buttercups, right?”

You wander over to see what he’s picked and look at the bulbous flower with admiration.

“Yeah. Persian Buttercups. Nice choice. What color?”

“Soft pink,” Bucky says immediately.

“Okay.”

You order a bushel and then continue to walk. Bucky quickly takes the flowers from you and you let him. Holding them just makes you feel…sad.

“What else?”

“Cornflowers.” Bucky again says it without hesitation. “And white hydrangeas.”

Does it seriously have to be cornflowers?

“O-okay.” You move between the sellers, bartering with them for the blooms and find some for a reasonable price. Bucky quickly takes the two small bushels from you again and you don’t fight him on it.

You lead him to a stall selling supplies to finish the bouquet. You pay for the paper and the ribbon and you even grab some Bells of Ireland to fill the bouquet. Since there’s already so much color from the white, blue, and pink flowers, the green will sit nicely against the splashes of color.

You work in silence, trying not to draw attention to yourself as you style the arrangement. The more you shift the stems however, feeling the fuzzy and smooth stems of Bucky’s choices and trying not to look too hard at the bouquet and how much you love the choices he’s made, you begin to lose your footing and you can’t keep your face as straight as you want to.

You can feel the corners of your mouth beginning to droop.

The people passing by are stopping to watch you make your arrangement and Bucky’s just behind you, watching you over your shoulder.

“That looks great,” he tells you and some of the women watching nod in agreement, voicing their appreciation for the colors mixed together.

“What ribbon?” you ask him, looking at the soft blue satin ribbon and the white lace ribbon you’d picked.

You can hear your voice barely above a whisper, already slipping towards complete collapse.

Your chest is so tight that you don’t know if you can even draw a full breath.

“Which one do you like?” Bucky asks, his voice right by your ear, soft and deep.

“Bucky…” you sigh, so close to falling to pieces.

He hears the hitch in your voice probably, that little crack that you almost hid well enough for him to overlook.

He peeks more closely at your face and you turn your head away from him as your audience seems to realize that something’s wrong and their whispers intensify.

“Hey,” he calls, your name slips past his lips and before you can crumble he turns you towards him.

You can’t exactly resist his pull. He’s strong and he could literally throw you from here to the street if he wanted to.

The bouquet held between you, you keep your eyes trained on it, unwilling to show him your eyes.

His hands trace the length of your arms from shoulders to wrists then back up and he pulls you a half step closer.

“The bouquet’s for you,” he tells you, and like the numbing sensation that comes when your headache medication finally kicks in, your chest is given full relief as your brain desperately tries to understand what he’s saying.

Your eyes water, spilling slow rolling tears as you finally look up to meet his gaze.

You’re given the briefest glance of his steel blue eyes before his lips are pressed to yours and his arm is snaking around your waist to pull you closer, crushing the bouquet between you.

Your body and brain are separate entities in this moment, one responding willingingly as the other makes desperate leaps to catch up.

Bucky is kissing you! Bucky’s bouquet is for you!

He tilts his head and deepens his kiss, extracting the bouquet from between your bodies until they can touch. His wide chest presses to yours and you can feel his metal hand, gloved as it is, wrap around the back of your neck to hold you in place as he dips you slightly.

It’s all too much all at once and your poor brain is still trying to understand.

You push against him and gasp as he brings his gloved hand to your cheek instead and steps back a little.

His face is full of yearning and his eyes are desperate and so fucking blue.

“Bucky…” you gasp, clinging to the collar of his shirt.

“God, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks,” he admits and you laugh, too flabbergasted to make sense of the words coming out of his mouth.

You just accept them for now and lean your forehead against his shoulder as you try to calm your racing heart.

“I can start calling you my girlfriend now, right?” He asks, sighing heavily as he presses his lips to your head.

“Bucky…” you try again, feeling a little more stable on your feet. You pull back enough to look up at him, to meet his eyes again.

“I love you,” he whispers, just for you. “I didn’t know. And then I did. I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

And then you’re crying again and Bucky pulls you in, hugging you close as you take his apology to heart.

#bucky x florist!reader #bucky barnes x reader #flowershop au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader fanfic #bucky x reader fic #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #perennial #perennial pt16 #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x reader fanfic #bucky barnes x reader fic

[chrisdrysdale]

We’ll try again

+18 minors dni if you do you will be blocked :)

bucky x fem!reader

Summary: Negative again and you feel you can’t take it anymore

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, unable to conceive, sad but quiet Bucky, crying, angst fluff

A/N: I’ve never been pregnant before so if I get something wrong I’m sorry.

characters:

It was tense. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You don’t know how many time this was now. You and Bucky were sitting on the edge of the bathtub your 6th maybe 7th pregnancy test, sitting on the counter. Months now you’ve been trying to get pregnant but nothings working.

You swear you were at breaking point.

Your knees was bouncing wild, your breathing heavy. During the other tests you felt hopeful but this one your excited, you think you might actually be pregnant. Your hormones have been all over the place, your breasts were sore and you were peeing lot more.

You told Bucky about it which did result in a fight about trying not to get your hopes up.

“Baby I just don’t want you to get hurt” He was pacing around the room while you sat on the end of the bed crying. “I’m not gonna get hurt Bucky, I know my body, for fuck sake”

“I know you do bab-“

“Don’t call me fucking baby”

Bucky was very taken back by your words, you loved him calling you baby. He kneeled down beside you and tried to place his hand on your knee but you moved away, he then tried to place his hand on you the side of you face but you slapped it away. “I need to be alone James”

James. For fucks sake.

“Y/N please” You still couldn’t look at him “Go please” you whimpered out. He walked out of you bedroom, slamming the door, making more tears role down you face. You slapped your hand over your mouth, trying to stop the sobs coming out but failing horribly. Your sobs could be heard by Bucky next door who was tossing and turning in the sheets of the spare bedroom, also crying. Bucky knew how much you wanted to be a mother and felt so fucking guilty that he couldn’t give it to you.

It was 1:09am when the sobs stopped. Bucky slowly got up and crept into the shared bedroom. He pulled the covers back on his side and slipped under wrapping his arms around your waist and dropped his head to your shoulder. He though you were asleep but you weren’t. When you felt his touch, you simply mumbled out “I’m sorry” and turned into his chest. He pushed back some of you hair and kissed your head “It’s okay Y/N I’m sorry”

“Can you call me baby please”

“Of course I can baby”

Now your back in your bathroom, on the tub, waiting the longest three minutes of your life. Bucky squeezed you hand, tightly, pulling you under his arm and kissing your forehead before looking at you. “I just want you to know baby, anything that happens I still love you ‘kay?”

“I love you too Bucky”

The ding of the egg timer knocked you out of each other’s gaze. You looked back at him, took a deep breath and gave him a faint smile. “Okay you ready” you said to him placing your hand on the test. “Yep go for it baby”

“3”

“2”

“1”

You flipped it over and stared at it

one line

“FUCK” you shouted out before slamming it into the counter. You sat back down on the bed and turned into Bucky. “I’m so sorry Bucky”

“Hey honey don’t worry, we’ll try again”

“I just - I don’t understand why it isn’t working”

You curled into him and sobbed into his shoulder. He picked you up and carried you bridal style into the shared bedroom.

He held you in his arms as you continued sobbing, him trying to hold back his own tears to support you.

You began hitting Bucky’s shoulder as you cried louder. “I don’t know why it isn’t working”

He pushed you back by your shoulders, then held you face to to look at him “hey hey hey, look at me, this isn’t your fault ‘kay”

You nodded before collapsing into Bucky’s chest, screaming crying. You wanted it so bad, you wanted your little family. A little Barnes running around the place. First steps. First. Words.

Everything running through your mind, you didn’t realise you fell asleep on Bucky’s shoulder. He gently moved you over, draping the covers over you and slotting in behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

Bucky woke up around 2 and slipped down into the kitchen. He sat down on the sofa and stared at a photo hanging up above the tv, You, him and alpine. Bucky felt the tears begin to roll down his face. He wanted to give you a family so bad, he was so upset with himself that he couldn’t do.

Bucky began crying a bit a louder, waking you. You began walking down the stairs slowly, trying not to startle Bucky. You came around the back of the couch and wrapped your arms around him, he grasped, around your forearms and sobbed into them as you kissed around his head. “I know baby it’s okay let it out”

“i’m so sorry, so fucking sorry”

You sat down in front of him, putting his face in between your hands, kissing his forehead. “it’s not your fault Bucky baby, it’s not”

“I - just I wanna give you what you want”

“Hey, listen to me, it’s was we want not just me”

You held him for a few more minutes until his tears stops and his breathe came back to normal pace. “Do you wanna go to bed?”

“Yeah c’mon doll”

Bucky swooped you up unexpectedly, bridle style, and began carrying you upstairs. “Look on the bright side dolly, the baby making bit is always fun”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Sex with you is alway fun Bucky baby”

He laid you down on the bed and covered with the blanket. He slipped into the bathroom.

Bucky began washing his hands and he looked down at the pregnancy test.

two lines

He ignored it but whipped his head back around when he realised that means your pregnant. He picked it and looked at wide-eyed. Bucky swung the door open, startling. “Babe!” he shouted.

“Bucky what’s wrong”

He continued you looking at the test. “There’s two lines”

“WHAT?” you sprung out of the bed and grabbed the test out his hand and looked at the two line. “Bucky!? I think we’re pregnant”

He picked you up and swung you around, kissing around your face. “Baby we’re gonna have a maybe, we’re gonna be parents”

He put you down on the ground and placed his hands at your face, you copying him.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be parents”

-fin

#bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x reader

[mrsbarnesblog]

firewood

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help.

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: +18❗️smut, hot neighbor bucky is a fucking warning, kinda size kink, rough sex, protected sex, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: this is one of my favorite works, so I hope everyone who hasn't read it before will like it too (it's hard to not fall for lumberjack Bucky, tbh🤷‍♀️)

“Hey, do you need help?” You stopped what you were doing. You breathed heavily, your arms ached, and you were already sweating. The man, your neighbor, whom you already saw a few times when you arrived home, was standing before you with his hands in his jeans pockets. 

He was attractive. Really handsome. Probably 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and visibly a lot of muscles under the clothes. Yeah, that red henley left nothing for your imagination. His dark hair was put in a low bun, and he had a little stubble on his face. But you mostly noticed his bright blue eyes, which looked straight at you very attentively.

“Sorry, what?” You said as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt. 

“I asked if you needed help. Sorry, but it seems like you have some troubles.” He smiled at you almost shyly, and you couldn’t even make yourself mad at his words. 

“Um, It’s my first time doing it.” You awkwardly smiled back, finally putting a big ax to the ground. “But I need wood for my fireplace, so I have to work with what I have.”

“I see… but don’t you have a boyfriend or a husband? I mean, it’s not really easy to do for a woman, and you seem pretty... petite for this?” It almost sounded like a question. “I wanted to say that I can help you if you allow me, because that thing might be really dangerous if you don’t know how to work with it, and I'm a lumberjack, so... it’s not a problem for me.” He awkwardly started to rub his neck. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“For a woman?” You playfully arched an eyebrow. “So you think that only men can do this?” You saw how his eyes widened, and you tried to hold your laughter.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He lifted both hands in the air. “It’s just gonna take you forever to do, and as I said before, It’s not the safest work. And since this is my job, I could’ve helped you. As a neighbor, you know?” 

“Relax, I’m just joking.” You softly smiled at him. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/N.” You reached out your hand. Bucky’s face relaxed, but then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“I like you.” He said, as he shook your hand. His grip was tight, and you felt that he really did a lot of physical work with his hands.

“Oh… thanks?” 

“Soo, do you need help?” He asked again.

“Um, honestly, I don’t know. I can’t just let you work for me for free. Can I pay you?”

“Doll, I have enough money, and I don’t need yours. I don’t think that you need tons of firewood, so it would be easy work for me.”

“Okay, but maybe I can give you food? Pastry? I really love to cook, and everyone said that I’m good at it.” You nervously played with your sleeve while Bucky was staring directly at you.

“Deal. I would honestly die for homemade food, ‘cause last time I ate it was at my ma’s and I really miss it. But you don’t have to do this, okay?”

“And you don’t have to help me.” You shot back.

Bucky’s smile grew wider, and he started shaking his head. “You have some temper, doll... Friday is okay?” 

“Yeah, totally, any time you’re free.” 

“Deal. I should probably go, and you better start training to cook food for me. I am really picky, and you insisted on paying me with it.” He said and started to walk back.

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed. “I know what I’m doing; don’t underestimate me!” 

“Fine. See ya, doll.” Bucky waved at you with the biggest smile on his face and finally walked away.

Well, it’s gonna be interesting. 

For the next almost two months, Bucky had been “working” for you, and you paid him with your food every single time because you couldn’t leave that man starving after he just got home from work and then willingly helped you. 

You two got closer. Bucky was a really good man; you found out it while you were sitting in your backyard looking at how his muscles were moving with every swing of the ax. He was right that it wasn't a big deal for him—the job that you would’ve been doing for several hours he did in twenty or thirty minutes. 

The conversation with Bucky was easy, he was a pretty reserved person, but he still told you everything about his job and his friends and asked you things about your life. It was hard not to fall for him. Especially when he gave you this boyish smile every time it was time to say goodbye or when you brought him your homemade food. 

Usually he comes to your house every Friday after work around 6 p.m., but today it was already 8 and he still didn’t show up. There was no light in his windows either, so you became really worried that something serious had happened. 

You were nervously sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen while your dinner was getting cold on the stove. You really had no appetite. What if he got injured from his dangerous work? Or maybe you were just overreacting and he went on a date with someone? You really had no reason to be worried that much because Bucky probably didn’t even think of you as a close friend, and you were just a too dramatic person with attachment issues. 

The light knock on the door scared you a little bit, but you still jumped out of your seat to open it. 

Bucky was standing there, visually perfectly fine and without any injuries, and you sighed with relief. 

“Bucky, oh my god, hi. Are you okay? I was really worried about you, and I don’t even have your phone number to text or call.” You mumbled as your eyes studied his face. 

“Hey, doll.” Bucky softly smiled at you, but it was obvious that he wasn’t really in the mood. “I’m fine. Just a shitty day at work. My boss went fucking crazy over nothing, and it was just a mess.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “But I have to do your firewood, so I'll go change and be back in a few minutes, ‘kay?”

He started to go back, but you caught him by his wrist. “No, Buck, wait. You don’t have to do it right now, really. I have enough wood, and you’re really exhausted. Come in; I have fresh lasagna and chocolate muffins.” 

“Um—are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to.” He mumbled. You noticed that you were still holding his wrist, but decided to leave it that way. 

“Don’t worry, I have enough food, and you look like you really need it. C’mon, don’t you want to eat something homemade and still hot after a bad day at work?” You gave him your best smile, and it was obvious in his eyes that he already agreed to your idea. 

“Okay, we can do that. Honestly, I feel like I’m able to eat a fucking elephant.” 

You both shared a laugh before you almost dragged him into your house and closed the door. Only at that moment did you realize that even though you gave Bucky a lot of food, he had never been at your place before. For some reason, you felt really excited to feed him and spend some time together. 

“Sit here while I’m heating the food.” Bucky obediently took a seat, looking with a soft smile at how you were moving around in your little kitchen.

You looked so domestic and soft in the warm yellow lights of the room in the cute pink cotton dress with little flowers all over it. The concentration was written all over your face as you tried to perfectly set plates and cutlery on the table and then put steaming lasagna on it.

“Fuck, it smells so good; you’re going to kill me, doll.” He wasn’t able to handle the amazing smell of food right in front of him. 

Your cheeks heated, and you waved your hand at him. “It’s just lasagna, Buck; don’t be dramatic.” You took a place near him, and you both started to eat your food. 

“I’m not being dramatic. I already told you that, besides my ma, you have the best food in the world. I could’ve eaten it three times a day for the rest of my life and not gotten tired of it.” He took another big bite, moaning as the taste filled his mouth. 

“You’re making me blush. No one ever told me this.”

“That’s my intention, doll. What, none of your boyfriends complemented your skills? Because I would’ve put the ring on that finger way too fast.” You looked at each other for a few seconds until you noticed that he had already finished his portion. 

“Do you want more?” Ignoring his previous words, you stood up and took his plate to give him some extra food. The dress gently flew around your thighs, drawing Bucky’s attention to your legs when you turned around. “Anyway, what happened at work? You mentioned your boss.”

“Ugh, Pierce is a fucking dipshit. Everyone there hates him, but he has too much money, so we can’t do anything. Me and Steve have really been on bad terms with him since the first day. He tries to tell us how to do our work, but his head is so far up in his ass that he can’t even listen to what we say.” You returned to your place and put a plate in front of Bucky again. The frown took place on his face while he was talking about Pierce, so you put a hand on top of his without even thinking. 

“He sounds like a total asshole. I’m sorry that you guys have to work for him.” Bucky’s face softened at your action. He flipped his hand so he could interlace your fingers, and you felt the warm feeling all over your body. 

You both definitely felt something, but you still stayed silent, enjoying the connection. It was obvious that you had feelings for each other. It was just hard to admit out loud, and, honestly, Bucky was so scared that you might think that he did all of this just to get into your pants. Which is not true. Well, he doesn’t mind, but it’s not his only intention. He wants to treat you right and ask you out on a date. 

Back then, he felt so bold and offered to help you with the firewood with the hope of getting to know you better. Steve and Sam obviously knew about his new “work” and teased him about it all day long. Unfortunately, he still didn’t find the right moment to ask you out. Those times when he came to you on Friday evenings and you were watching him work in your cute dresses or little pajamas were Bucky’s favorites. You looked so soft, cozy, and domestic that he wished to see you like this every day. 

After the last piece of a chocolate muffin disappeared in Bucky’s mouth and he let out a moan of satisfaction, he sat in your kitchen with closed eyes and a smile on his face. 

“If I had to have a shitty day just to get this type of meal at the end of the day, I’m ready for it.”

“Bucky!” You laughed at his dramatic words. “You don’t have to have a bad day. I can feed you just because.” 

“Well, you said it yourself. Now you won’t get rid of me.” You both laughed. Then he suddenly got up and started to put plates in the sink. “You sit, and I’ll wash the dishes.”

“No, Bucky, that’s not how it works!” You got up and caught him by his bicep. Really hard and big bicep. 

“Yes, it is. You’re cooking, then I’m cleaning.” He tried to get away from your grip to turn on the water, but you only held him stronger, now with both of your hands on his arms. 

“Bucky.” When he was standing so close to you, you realized your size and height difference, and it made you shiver. You turned your head up to look him in the eyes. “You are my guest; you shouldn’t do this.”

“My mother taught me to always help women because they are not our maids.” He stepped a little bit closer. “But if you’re saying this only because you want me to leave, I can do that.”

You were both looking at each other, and what you saw in his eyes made you weak in the knees. 

“No, no, I don’t want you to leave.” Your hands moved higher and fell on the sides of his neck. It was everything Bucky needed to finally kiss you.

Two large and rough hands took your face to bring your lips closer to Bucky’s height. He was gentle yet so passionate, and he slowly moved his lips against yours. It was mind-blowing how desperately you wanted him to devour you, to destroy you. While your hands were discovering his broad chest and shoulders, you felt that your body was suddenly lifted in the air and then placed on the kitchen counter.

Now that Bucky didn’t have to lean over to your height, it was easier to kiss you properly. His tongue brushed over your lips to ask for entrance, which you happily gave. Bucky felt too addicted to your taste, your smell, and the feeling of your smaller body against him. It drove him crazy.

“I've wanted to do that since the day I looked at you.” The hands on your hips tightened and moved you closer to his body. “You look so pretty, God.” Bucky’s eyes are running all over your face, trying to memorize every little thing.

“Bucky...” You dragged him closer again, desperate to connect your lips. His large hands wandered all over your body, slightly pulling up your dress and then moving higher and cupping your breasts in them. “I thought you were tired.” His large erection was obvious through his jeans, and you wanted to tease him. 

“I’m never tired for you, doll.” He mumbled against your lips. “I could’ve fucked you right on this table, but I’ll leave it for the next time. Where’s your bedroom?” You didn’t miss the promise to fuck you again, and your body felt ecstatic just because of this thought.

“Up the stairs, second door from the right.” 

Bucky didn’t say a word before your world suddenly moved, and you ended up hanging from his shoulder. Your bare ass was probably right near his face, and you couldn’t help but blush. 

He stormed up the stairs with one hand on your thigh, as if your weight on his shoulder was nothing, and then walked into your main bedroom. 

You were thrown onto your bed, and Bucky stayed in front of you for a few seconds to remember this picture. Swollen lips, eyes full of need, a short dress that pulled up and showed a glimpsing of your white underwear. Yes, you were perfect, and only for him. 

“Come here, Buck.” You raised your hands in his direction, and he obediently climbed on top of you with a smirk on his face.

He sat between your legs, moving his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs.

“Such a pretty doll for me, in this cute lil’ dress, mm?” His body was hovering over you, and when he found a zipper on the back of your dress, you ended up lying under him only in your white lingerie set in less than a minute. 

The pair of the most beautiful blue eyes devoured your naked body as soon as the piece of clothing was removed, and you had never seen a man look at you this way. Like you were the most beautiful, delicious, and priceless thing in the world. Bucky’s hands gently touched your body from the shoulders to your legs, and you swear that you heard a moan while he was doing it.

“Sweetheart.” He mumbled and leaned to gently kiss the soft skin of your belly, moving with little kisses higher until he reached your lips. “You’re killing me, you know that?” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Barnes.” It was impossible to think straight when his pretty face was right in front of you and his muscular body pushed you deeper into the mattress of your bed. He kissed you as you asked, but it didn’t last long before he pulled away with a grin on his face. You gently brushed his brown locks out of his face and tucked them behind his ears.

“So bossy, dollface... Do I have to fuck this attitude out of you?”

“Mmm, undress, and we’ll see what you are capable of.” You shot back at him, and he just moved away with a smirk on his face. 

In a few seconds, a red henley was thrown somewhere on the floor, and you were face to face with a body that was probably made by the Greek gods. Muscles on muscles, with tanned skin and freckles from the work under the sun. Now you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

“Like what you see?” His smirk became wider as he saw the look on your face: slightly parted lips and darkened eyes that were looking at him up and down. Bucky's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, and with the last movement, he was standing in your almost dark bedroom completely naked. 

You almost choked on your saliva when he pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time. He was thick and long, with an angry red head. 

“No way this is gonna fit me…”

“It will, doll. I’ll take care of it. I bet this pretty little pussy will just suck me in.” 

It was over for you. You knew that. A handsome, respectful man with a perfect body and dirty mouth? Yes, he can do whatever he wants with you.

He returned to your bed, sitting in between your spread legs. He didn’t waste any more time when he reached behind your back and unbuttoned your bra. Bucky stood on his knees so perfectly that his dick landed on your covered pussy, and it made you both moan out loud. 

“Look at this, doll. ‘M gonna destroy her.” His hips slightly moved, and because your panties were soaking wet, it was so smooth and perfect. “Can you imagine that? I will stretch you out so well that I’ll ruin any other men for you. Make you–and her– mine.” He reached with one of his hands to your tits and squeezed your nipple between his fingers, while the other one was keeping your legs apart so he would be able to move his hips. 

You tried to close your legs by instinct. The tip of his cock again and again brushed right on your clit, and the slight pain from your nipple made you desperately moan and clench your bedsheets.

“Are you going to cum, pretty girl? Im not even inside of you, and you’re already a fucking mess.” Bucky’s rough voice was so sexy that it made you even wetter, if that was possible. He saw that you were close: by the way your breathing changed and how your eyes rolled back in your head. “C'mon, just let it go. Soak those panties even more.” His movements on your most sensitive parts of the body didn’t stop, and it threw you over the edge.

You were squeezing around nothing, and the most inappropriate and dirty moan escaped your mouth. It was something that you'd never experienced before, and it was so intense that you needed some time to get over it.

“Good girl.” Bucky grabbed your face and connected your lips, giving you another wet and sloppy kiss. 

Then, without hesitation, Bucky’s hands took off the last piece of your clothing, leaving you completely naked for his hungry eyes. He stared at your body up and down for a few seconds and then closed his eyes to take a deep breath and calm himself down. 

“Bucky, please, I need you so much.” You almost cried, trying to grab him and put his body on top of yours, but Bucky was much larger than you, so it was almost impossible.

Bucky finally calmed down a little bit, and he interlaced his right hand with your left, pinning it above your head. His body softly landed on you, and skin-to-skin contact sent shivers down your spine. He was now looking you right in the eyes, and judging by his facial expressions, he either wanted to fuck you lifeless or cuddle and hold you closely.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Bucky’s soft side came out again, and you slightly nodded, giving him permission to continue. The little silver square appeared in his hand out of nowhere before he ripped the package with his teeth and put a condom on. 

You honestly tried to hold back the little bit of disappointment you felt when he decided to use protection. It was smart. You weren’t longtime partners, it was a question of your safety. But the tiny voice in your head told you that you would’ve let him fuck you without it. To feel his perfect d–

Your thoughts were cut off with a deep chuckle. “You look like you’re sad that I put on a condom, doll.” You swear that his eyes darkened when you stayed silent. “If you want it later, I’ll fuck you raw, ‘kay? But now neither of us can think straight.” 

“Are you a perfect man?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, let’s find out.” Your smile faded as soon as you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so when Bucky started teasing you again, rubbing you up and down to cover himself in your slick, you nearly lost it. 

“Bucky, please.” You whine, grabbing the side of his torso with your free hand. “Don’t tease me, please, I can’t—” 

Your words died as Bucky finally pushed inside of you. Your head fell deeper into your soft bed, and Bucky’s body tensed on top of you, trying to hold back a deep moan. 

It was overwhelming. He stretched you out so deliciously that you felt pain and inexplicable pleasure. No one ever made you feel this way—like you were on cloud nine and the man on top of you didn’t even actually fuck you yet. 

“You’re squeezing me so hard that I might cum like a teenager—fuck!” He groaned, squeezing your hand harder. “Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to relax as much as you could with a dick buried deep inside of you, and Bucky was finally able to move.

Well, if it felt good earlier, then the first movement of his hips probably sent you right to heaven. Bucky cupped your face with his left hand, locking your eyes together, when he started thrusting at a slow pace. 

“So pretty for me, doll. You feel my cock in your stomach, huh?” Bucky’s lips almost touched yours when he talked, but it felt like he was too far away from you. “Good girl, take me so well. Knew that this pussy would be my death.” 

“More... harder, please, fuck me harder.” You spoke in between moans, gazing intently at Bucky's pretty face.

He started fucking you harder. Your bed was slamming your wall, but it didn’t bother you as much as the fact that he was hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You were a fucking whining mess under him, with a slightly open mouth and a drunk-looking face.

“Suck it like a good girl you are.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, and you moaned, doing as he said. “Your pussy is already sucking the shit out of me. Are you going to cum, baby? Going to make a mess on my cock while I fuck you? Imagine if I fucked you raw and filled you up with my load. I bet you’d like that.” The finger went deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You nodded your head as much as you could at Bucky’s words because you were already ready to cum.

“Give it to me, baby.” Bucky growled, sucking on your neck. His hips slammed into yours, making the nastiest noise, but it turned you on even more. A finger slipped out of your mouth, and Bucky’s face was in front of you again. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“M-m, B-bucky! Don't stop, pl– ahhh!” The wave of the best orgasm of your fucking life washed over you. You swear the stars started dancing behind your closed eyes as you endlessly squeezed Bucky’s cock and his body.

The way you were moaning, how your eyes rolled back, and how your whole body trembled pushed Bucky over the edge. A few last movements in your soaking wet pussy and he came, feeling almost lifeless, as if you had sucked the whole energy out of him.

He let go of your hand, which this whole time he held above your head, and cupped your face with both of his hands, kissing away the tears you didn’t even notice.

“Y/N? Baby? Are you okay?” He whispered and moved your head a little bit so your eyes were directed at him. You looked like you were high or really drunk, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that you were the prettiest woman on earth.

“I– it’s like I don't feel my body anymore.” You lazily mumbled and closed your eyes. “No one ever fucked me like this.” 

“Glad to hear that, doll.” Bucky leaned closer and kissed your soft lips with more delicacy and tenderness. “Do you need anything? Food, water, bath?”

“No… Can you just hug me and stay here for the night?” You asked, now afraid that he would leave since he got what he wanted.

“Sure, just let me get rid of this thing, and I’ll still get you some water.” He kissed you on the forehead before carefully untangling his body from yours. You hissed at the new empty and a little bit aching feeling inside of you. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

Bucky threw a condom in the basket under your table and, putting on only his boxers, came down to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water. But when he came back, he saw that you had already fallen asleep.

You looked so cute—still naked, with a peaceful expression on your face, laying in the middle of your messy bed. He thought about whether he should disturb your sleep or not, but you asked him to stay, right? Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then came closer to you, placed the bottle on the nightstand, and carefully scooped you into his hands, pushing away the covers. He put you back down, and then you opened your eyes. 

“C’mere…” You mumbled, still sleepy, and grabbed his hand.

Bucky quietly chuckled and got under the cover, hugging you from the back. You happily sighed before drifting back to sleep. Bucky kissed you in the hair, hugged you harder, and fell to sleep with you in his arms.

You woke up a little bit disoriented, trying to figure out what happened last night. 

The bed beside you was empty, but the aching feeling between your legs proved that it wasn’t a dream. You, in fact, fucked your hot lumberjack neighbor. But where did he go?

You found some random oversized t-shirt and walked down the stairs. Everything was silent; your kitchen was empty but crystal clean. Did Bucky just leave? 

Wait a minute. 

Yesterday there was a mess from your cooking and dinner with Bucky.

Now the room was almost shining. 

You looked around in confusion until you noticed a piece of paper on the table. 

All of your bad thoughts disappeared as soon as you read it, and you felt butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #marvel smut #james buchanan barnes #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #lumberjack! bucky barnes

[thevillainswhore]

New Tricks

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead

What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular. 

Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.

Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne

Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗

These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️

New Tricks Masterlist

I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door. 

“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time,  when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.  

Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck. 

The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again. 

Excellent, you inwardly sigh.

“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting  internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level.  “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.” 

Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck.  Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows. 

Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”

His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?” 

No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind. 

“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.” 

The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes. 

“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.” 

You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation. 

Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic. 

“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?” 

Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–” 

You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.

Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”

Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning. 

“What the shit–“ 

The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?” 

In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!” 

Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.” 

The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”

“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.  

The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all. 

And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?” 

Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids. 

“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”

Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed. 

“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.” 

It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone. 

You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?” 

You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“

“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over. 

Had he been listening that whole time? 

Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky  may have made was a burden you did not want to bear,  and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”

Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.” 

The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”

His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.  

With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.  

“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”

The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”

Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump. 

You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose.  “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”

With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off. 

Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips. 

Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door. 

With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”

Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.  

Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”

He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”

You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.  

“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?” 

The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”

You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.” 

Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf. 

The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?” 

“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”

You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”

“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom. 

Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”

“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you. 

A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.  

The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence. 

Though, it is short lived. 

Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand. 

A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works. 

“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off. 

You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before… 

“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”

A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious. 

His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you. 

“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”

The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats. 

Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?” 

You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”

The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet. 

Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.

“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”

“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.  

Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company. 

This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence. 

Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone. 

“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content. 

“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”

“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets. 

“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.

The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.

“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.

Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.  

That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself. 

“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?” 

You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV. 

“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.” 

The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.” 

Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.” 

Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”

“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.” 

You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”

Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it. 

Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”  

Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”

“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!” 

He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?” 

“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.  

“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”

His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”

Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night. 

There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus. 

Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”  

Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing. 

“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”

“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”

“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”

A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”

“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.” 

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” 

His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face. 

Okay, you think privately, so what? 

Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt. 

If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”

“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”

Now that catches you off guard. 

Bucky… is a virgin? 

Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match. 

Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression. 

“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”

No other words come to mind. 

When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts. 

You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully. 

The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him. 

Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession. 

It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands,  and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty. 

From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer. 

Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past.  And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket. 

What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?

To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs. 

Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees. 

“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.  

The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical. 

You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”

“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.” 

“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting. 

You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”

He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“

“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”

“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.

“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”

You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.

“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”

“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through. 

Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek. 

This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance. 

You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.

He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”

“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap. 

That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth. 

There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves. 

Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face. 

“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.

There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek. 

“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.

Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”

The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes. 

Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.  

“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session. 

Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.

“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.  

You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.

“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension. 

A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time. 

Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.  

The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close. 

But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard. 

The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly. 

Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before. 

You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another. 

It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you. 

And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–” 

To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.  

Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries. 

You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.

The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss. 

You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move. 

Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous. 

It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”

Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”

Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”

Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.

“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.” 

You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin. 

The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet. 

The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt  — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.

Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.  

“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”

“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”

You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”

The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn. 

“Wha– Fuck!”

You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it. 

The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.

Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release. 

You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the  loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle. 

Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.

Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck. 

You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently. 

“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”

Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him. 

You can’t have that, though. 

Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go. 

It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in. 

You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?” 

Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.” 

“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.  

You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.” 

The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”

Something snaps within him. 

The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure. 

To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop. 

“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”

“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!” 

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed. 

“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”

The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat. 

The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”

Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness. 

After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”

“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material. 

Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”

“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.

The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”

Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”

“But–” Bucky tries. 

“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”

His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”

“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”

The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces. 

It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”

You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands. 

And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair. 

You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.

“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.” 

You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only– 

“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala. 

“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”

But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?” 

That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes. 

You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”

Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away. 

With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”

The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky. 

“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”

“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”

You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”

The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall.  “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”

A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive. 

“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.” 

That meant only one person was responsible. 

Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.  

Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night. 

I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake. 

Love ya squirt, 

Your big bro.

“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.

P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x 

Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again. 

“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”

Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain. 

Part Two, Part Three

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