#bucky x you
What A Peach
Summary: You decide to try out an interesting pair of legging and inadvertently cause Bucky to lose his mind. What can he say, the man loves a good peach.
Gif by @unearthlydust
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, body worship, Bucky is an ass man (dont @ me either)
A/N: Written for @sagechanoafterdark (surprise) and beta’d by the wonderful @buckyownsmylife but all mistakes are my own.
Do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post any parts of my stories. Likes, comments and reblogs are weclome.
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“I don’t know, are you sure this is going to work?” you ask, not even bothering to hide the skepticism in your voice. You’ve been watching the same series of clips for the past five minutes and you’re not convinced. “Nat, I’m sure most of these are staged anyway, plus I don’t look like half these women.”
The alluring redhead snatches her phone out of your hand with a smirk. “Have you seen the way he looks at you?” She retorts, tapping her screen with a long manicured nail. “He’s going to love it.” She stares at you, daring you to disagree with her.
You roll your eyes and go back to your cart, clicking out of it, you review the return policy again. What started off as a joke led to you studying your online shopping cart, wondering if you were really going to buy some leggings because of a TikTok trend.
Nat holds her phone in front of your face, “tell me that’s not Bucky.”
Watching the eager man on the screen, you have to admit that’s how he would act. And you like it. Picturing Bucky behaving that way has your stomach in knots from anticipation, he’s already insatiable and this would tip him over the edge. Nat sees your expression change and laughs knowingly, “remember to thank me when he blows your back out.”
Two days later.
It’s been a lazy start to the day, neither of you doing much besides showering and lounging. You’re sitting on the couch with your feet on his lap. While he’s relaxed and enjoying his day off, you’ve been anxiously awaiting your package. Discreetly tracking it for the past hour and now it’s only two stops away. Glancing over the top of your phone, you look at Bucky, chewing on your bottom lip, wondering how he manages to look so good first thing in the morning.
His blue eyes fixate on the tv, pink lips parted as he watches the Fellowship of the Ring for the second time this week. A three-day-old stubble on his angular cheeks, his hair mussed from sleep.
Since you didn’t plan on going anywhere today, you’re in his teal Henley and panties while he has on your favorite pair of gray sweatpants. His dog tags resting on his broad chest, clanking softly as he leans forward, engrossed in the movie.
One more stop. Oh, you’re excited. So close. You must have made a noise because he glances over at you, his lips turning up in a wide smile, “whatcha doing doll?” He asks.
You hide your face behind your phone, mumbling “Nothing.” Damn his enhanced hearing.
Bucky tilts his head, quirking a brow. “Nothing” he repeats, pausing the movie when you giggle. He grabs your ankle with his large hand, “tell me or else, doll.” His playful tone warning you he’s seconds away from tackling you.
Before he can pull you towards him, the doorbell chimes. “I’ll get it.” You scramble off his lap, inadvertently kicking him in the stomach, making him oof.
“Sorry,” you say over your shoulder, running to the hallway. Flinging the door open, you grab the box from the delivery person with a “thanks” and close it behind you. Tucking the brown package under your arm, you spin on your heel, heading for the bedroom.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, where are you going and what’s that?” Bucky inquires, leaning over the back of the couch, one arm dangling over the side, his amused blue eyes raking over you.
You really should have planned better, you don’t respond, trying to think of a way to get upstairs and change. If you hadn’t been wine drunk with Natasha, you would have thought to have it delivered tomorrow. He watches you shift your weight onto one foot with growing amusement and a tinge of suspicion.
“Come here, doll,” he demands, gesturing with his vibranium finger.
“Bucky, I-,” you break off, sprinting up the stairs. His huff of shocked laughter following you. “Finish your movie, Buck-,” you yell.
He spots your phone on the cushion; he chuckles to himself, thinking of how easy it would be to take a peek. Instead, Bucky settles back on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. Leaving it untouched, knowing you’ll tell him your secret, eventually.
You come back down a few minutes later and prop your feet back up on his lap. He gives you a questioning glance, but you only shrug innocently. “Alright, doll,” he says, studying you out of the corner of his eye with a low hum.
The morning drags on for hours as you try to hide your excitement. Nervous energy rolling off you in waves. Bucky continues to observe you quietly, his interest piqued, he knows something has you riled up and he can’t deny how cute you are whenever you get like this.
Around noon, after a few rounds of teasing you, trying to get to you give him a hint, he reluctantly leaves you to go work on your car after you not so subtly ask him when he’s going for the fifth time. He smiles at your giddy goodbye, almost laughing again when you practically shove him into the garage.
With Bucky out of the way, you quickly find the leggings you hid in the closet and pull them out of the clear plastic wrapping. Unsure of what color to get, you opted for the dark gray pair with the honeycomb design and high waistband.
They look a little smaller than you expected. Putting your legs in, you awkwardly hop on the carpeted floor as you struggle to pull them up. After a few near falls, you get the tight stretchy material over your hips. Smoothing your hands down your thighs, you’re surprised at how well they fit.
Holding up the back of his shirt, you marvel at how they curve around your ass, lifting and supporting you in a way that has you giving your reflection a double-take. Twisting from side to side, you can’t believe how you look from every angle. “Magic,” you mutter aloud, “Has to be magic.”
You grab a handful of his shirt, tying it into a knot in the front so that it doesn’t hang over your butt. With one last look, you give in to the urge to smack your own ass before walking down to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you grab a few things to make lunch and place them on the counter. Your plan is to show off the goods, make him lunch, and have an afternoon quickie.
The sounds of him working travel through the closed door leading to the garage. You lean over the counter, practicing some poses you saw on the clips. Remembering one video, in particular, you arch your back and go up on your tiptoes.
Taking a deep breath, you shout, “Bucky, lunch is almost ready.”
The loud clanking stops, you hear his footsteps approach the door and you drop your gaze to the food. The door creaks open and your heart races. Moment of truth. You bite your lip, eyes scrunched shut as you wait for him.
Bucky strolls in, wiping his hands off with an old gray towel, “I’m starving-…” his voice tapers off when he sees you. Fuck, he sees you. In one of his favorite positions, normally he would prefer you to be naked, but something looks a little different.
His eyes drift down your back to your- oh. A million thoughts race through his rapidly malfunctioning brain. “God damn,” he breathes out after a full minute of gawking at you.
“What the- how, damn doll,” he groans appreciatively, his blue eyes focused on your ass, “What the fuck, you look good. Shit, you’re always sexy but what did you to that ass,”
Your face burns from his praise, and you wiggle your hips. He lets out a low whistle followed by another round of praises.
Bucky saunters over to you, whipping his phone out of his back pocket, “stay just like that,” he orders, you giggle in your hand when he takes several pictures, “damn,” he repeats with every snap. “I didn’t think you could get prettier, but damn. You know I can’t let you leave the house, right?.”
When he gets closer, he tosses his phone on the counter and slaps your ass. Hard. Moaning vulgarly when it jiggles from the force of his hand and he does it over and over until you cry out softly he knows how much you love it when he gets like this.
His head dips for a quick bite of your cheek, “I love these, doll, love your ass even more,” he points out, accentuating his words with another slap.
“Bucky” you yelp, feeling the sting ripple across your skin.
He fondles your cheeks, “Don’t ‘Bucky me’ doll, not when you’re out here looking like a goddamn snack,” he mutters squeezing you, “where did you get these and how many did you buy?”
Not waiting for your answer, he places his hands on your hips and spins you around until you’re facing him. His darkened blue eyes brimming with infatuation and yearning, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
“I love you,” He grasps your chin, “but now you have to pay for teasing me like this.” He reaches behind you, knocking everything off the counter, the food and containers tumbling to the floor.
You cough out a shocked, “Bucky!”
“Forget the food, doll, I’m having you for lunch,” he smirks, placing his hands under your shirt, his thumbs circling your nipples until they harden under the rough pads of his fingers.
His lips slot over yours, a passionate, slow kiss, his tongue leisurely exploring your mouth until you melt into him, your hands in his hair, pulling him closer.
Deepening the kiss, he drops his hands between your thighs, pushing them apart, he tugs at the inner seams of your leggings. You jerk your head back at the sound of fabric ripping.
“Oh, no you don’t, “he mutters, capturing your mouth again before your protest can leave your lips. You quickly forget to be upset when his warm finger slides through your dripping folds, teasing your bud until you ache for more.
He pulls away, grinning smugly at your whine. He can’t wait, god you’re always sexy, but something about you wrapped up in these leggings like a damn birthday gift out of wet dream has him almost feral with need.
Bucky grips his shaft, freeing himself from his sweatpants, letting the material pool around his feet. You lean back, spreading your thighs. Your breath falters when his darkened eyes move up to your face.
“I can’t even think right now, doll,” he rasps out, his voice thick with need, hurriedly sliding his swollen head through your folds, drenching himself in your slick, “This is what you did to me,” he continues thrusting into you, quick and hard, stretching your velvety walls with each inch.
You fall to your elbows, moaning when he bottoms out, the slight burn giving way to pleasure when he rolls his hips. Bucky stares down at you, his hands gripping your thighs, he stills inside of you.
“Wait, no,” he says, pulling out of your warmth. He ignores your confused protest, pulling you down off the counter.
He spins you, bending you over the smooth surface, his large hand pushing down on your back until your chest is flat on the surface, ass in the air, your head turned to the side as you pant.
“That’s better.” He states, “much better.”
Lifting your hips, he slams back into your core, your warm, tight heat enveloping him with each rough thrust. Bucky concentrates on your ass bouncing as his pace builds. “I’m buying you one in every color,” he decides, unable to handle how good you look right now. “Every fucking color,” he declares.
“Yes, Bucky,” you sob. The way he’s fucking you right now, you would have agreed to wear the damn things on your head if he asked. Your nails bite into the skin of your palm when he grinds his hips into you.
“Fuck you’re good,” he praises, “so good.” His stomach tensing whenever you clench down over him. You feel every ridge of him when he pulls out, layers of pleasure building with every stroke. Your hands scramble over the granite surface, trying to find something to hold on to, needing to ground yourself.
“That’s it, doll,” he says over your moans, “take it.” Bucky leans over, angling deeper in your throbbing pussy, caging you under his large body as he pins your wrists down. You can’t move, the smooth counter pressing into your chest, his dog tags dangling over your back,
“Oh, oh yes” you mewl, words slurring as you lose yourself in the sensations.
“You’re only wearing these inside this house,” he swears, dark and low, in your ear. His hips snapping into yours, kissing your neck, “Only. These.” Punctuating his words with two more deep thrusts that send you arching into him.
You try to respond, but then he kicks your legs further apart, slapping your ass again. Sharp broken sobs spill out, pressure building hard and fast, when his thick digits find your clit. “You’re gonna cum for me right now,” he murmurs.
Your addled brain only hears cum for me, stars exploding behind your eyelids as the coils snap. Your spasming walls clench down, his name ending in a strangled wail, dragging him back into your body because he feels too damn good to let go.
“Good girl, there you go, that’s my girl,” Bucky kisses your back, your soft skin slick and salt-tinged on his lips, waiting for you to recover. When you release a shuddering breath, body limp and relaxed under him, he eases out of your slick cunt, trying to hold back a groan when the cool air hits his cock. Still heavy and hard.
“Now I wanna see how these leggings look when you ride me.”
You blearily glance over your shoulder and he smirks down at you, his hand wrapped around his shaft. “Kitchen floor or couch?” You know by his tone, he really means which one first because he’s going to have you on both.
You do thank Nat much, much later, when you’re finally able to form a semi-coherent sentence.
The very next day, you come home to find Bucky sitting on the couch with a pair of scissors in his hand, a large open box on the coffee table.
“Hey doll,” he utters distractedly, not looking up as you walk into the room. You freeze when you round the couch, your bag slipping from your hand. Almost a dozen of those leggings, all different colors and patterns, piled up beside him, but it’s the pair on his lap that captures your attention.
Closing your eyes, you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Bucky.”
“Hmm,” he hums in response, his tongue between his teeth as he carefully cuts out the crotch of the neon pink leggings.
“You’re not-” you huff.
“Oh, I am.” Bucky’s eyes flicker over to you with a wicked gleam, “now you can’t complain about me ripping holes in your clothes.”
Furrowing your brows, you sputter, “that’s not the point- Bucky, you can’t just-”
“Like I said now you can’t complain.” He tosses the pair on the pile next to him and reaches for another set. “Oh, and I fixed your panties too.”
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pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (MCU)
summary: In which Bucky can’t figure out why he feels so restless when everything is perfect in his life... until he does.
warnings: sex (18+), breeding kink!!! copious amounts of fluff and bucky being an adorable goofball
author’s note: ‘tis finally here!!! first fic on the new blog! also thought i’d do something new with formatting my fics! and once again, i couldn't help with keeping it short n sweet sorry! [wc: ~5k]
MASTERLIST // LIBRARY
Bucky doesn’t know what’s gotten into him lately.
There is this restlessness that keeps bugging him in the back of his mind. Sometimes it doesn’t let him focus on things. Mundane things, really. When he’s brewing the morning coffee. When he’s reading the paper. Or when he’s mindlessly scrolling through his phone.
He’s happy and it’s been years since he’s felt genuine happiness. He’s a free man, free to do what he wants. Free to talk, to walk, to wear whatever he wants. To eat whatever he wants. To feel whatever he wants. To love whoever he wants.
To love you enough and more to marry you and start his little family. He has all of this, he’s at peace. He gets to wake up every morning and is blessed to have the most gorgeous woman sleeping next to him. He gets to make a home with you, memories with you. Share your love for each other in your space, fill it with more love with things you love and care about.
And he has done that.
He’s a stable guy now, he’s got a wife and a home and the most adorable cat.
He can’t complain, he’s got no right to feel this restlessness. God knows, he doesn’t take a thing for granted in his life. Everything he has and everything he wants is right in the palm of his hands.
He should be happy. No, he is happy. He just wants to be… happier? Would it be completely selfish if he wants to be happier?
You’ve always told him, it’s a good colour on him. He’s gorgeous when he’s beaming and all smiles. Like a bright sunny day at the beach, warmth from the ocean water, warmth from the sun gently beating down.
You never fail to tell him that he has every right to be selfish, either. You love to spoil him rotten sometimes. Shower him with compliments, and constantly flirting with him – even though it’s been a whole year you’ve been married, been together for three years before that – not counting five years after the Blip.
Safe to say, he’s going to grow old with you. If science can help him do that, that is.
So why does he feel restless?
His question is answered one day in the most life-changing way.
The two of you were at the vet’s clinic, just a regular check-up for Alpine. She was seated in Bucky’s lap. He refused to get one of those pet carriers when the pet supply store owner urged him to buy one for Alpine. With the way she hissed at the cage, he could tell she didn’t like it.
While waiting for your turn, Bucky kept petting her back. Long, comforting strokes and soft scratches behind her ear, because she tends to get a little nervous during these visits.
The woman before you was called out. She was struggling with her newborn baby in the bassinet, and her dog whining – she looked helpless. While she tried to haul the bassinet and the dog to the doctor’s office – who refused to leave his spot because he didn’t want to go – you got up to help her.
“Let me help you, I can look after your baby while you’re inside.”
Much to her relief, the woman sighed. Your face is trustful enough, a kind smile on your lips.
“Thank you so much, sweetheart!” She said and handed you the bassinet. You told her it’s not a problem and she picked up the dog and went in.
When you came back, you left a seat to place the baby between you and Bucky. You look at your husband and the pure joy on your face lit up his heart. You picked up the baby. She wasn’t crying or throwing a fit, but she was just so adorable and you had to have her in your arms.
You cooed and called her all sweet names, talking to her in a different voice, a tiny one that made him smile on his own. He wondered what it would be like to watch you play with your baby like that.
That sudden thought answered his restlessness. The puzzle was finally completed.
It took him by surprise, though.
Does he want a baby with you? Yes, he’s pretty certain about that. One day he would want a little bundle of joy in his arms. Half like him, half like you.
But does he think he’s ready to be a father?
Are you ready to be a mother?
Yeah, those are the questions to which he doesn’t know the answers to.
But what he does know, is that he wants to have a baby. He just needs to know if you’re on the same page as him.
So Bucky… starts dropping hints.
They’re very subtle, considering he’s a 106-year-old, retired Avenger, determined to know your thoughts on having a baby.
The first one is when he brings home the mail after his daily walk around the block. You’re sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, eating a bowl of fresh watermelon, Alpine lazily draped next to you. Some movie plays in the background. Bucky, very subtly, drops a bunch of envelopes and magazines next to your feet and hands you the hydrangeas he brings you every day.
A sweet smile flashed his way when you smell the lovely flowers. Since you’re very comfortable in your position – and since Bucky doesn’t want to distract you from his plan – he offers to put the flowers in the vase for you.
“Stay here,” he gives your shoulder a little squeeze and takes the flowers from you. “I’ll put these in water.”
A mumbled thanks and you adjust yourself, your feet now under you. And something catches your eye. A parenting magazine lies under the heaps of bills. You shuffle them away with your fingers and grab the thick booklet.
“Mother & Baby,” you mumble, confusion lining your expressions.
All the while, Bucky is peeping at you. Standing at the sink in the kitchen island, the water in the vase is overflowing. He realises that when the cold water trickles down the vase and his hand.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, closes the tap and throws the excess water. The flowers shoved inside the vase, eyes never leaving you. Licks his bottom lip as a nervous habit and wipes his wet hand on his jeans. Trying to seem busy and nonchalant as he blindly arranges the flowers.
“Bucky?” you call out, eyes never leaving the front cover of the magazine.
The vase nearly slips from his grip, he scrambles up to attention – very nonchalant – and hopes that his voice doesn’t squeak terribly when he answers, “Yes, baby?”
Baby. Did he have to call you that right now?
He could have called you anything, honey, angel, sweetheart. But no, he just had to call you baby.
“I think you got somebody else’s mail by mistake,” you said, placing the magazine back on the table. He walks over to you, “We don’t have a subscription for ‘Mother & Baby’. It might belong to that new couple who moved into 1C. I saw them with a stroller the other day.”
“Oh, huh…” he feigns a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, I guess I didn’t notice. All the mail was just shoved into the box.” He scoffs as if it’s the mailman’s fault when it was Bucky who stole the magazine from the top of 1C’s box.
“Will you please give it to them?”
“Yeah, of course.” he shrugs and picks it up. Slips into his shoes and as soon as he’s out and shuts the door, he bangs his head on it lightly. “Barnes, you fucking moron.”
The next hint is when Bucky offers to babysit their new neighbours’ baby boy. It was weeks after that magazine debacle. In that time he’d earned the trust of his neighbours enough to let him babysit their kid while the new parents had a date night to themselves. It was a win-win situation. They were thankful and Bucky got a chance to execute his plan.
You were more than happy to help Bucky. In fact, you were elated. As soon as you were introduced to baby Will by your husband, you picked up the chubby kid and kept him with you the whole time. You only let Bucky have him when he needed a change of diaper and clothes for bedtime.
“I guess, I’ll have to do all the nasty work with our baby, too,” he mumbles, struggling to get Will’s clothes on after he finished powdering and diapering his cute little tushie.
“Yes, obviously. We all have our duties. I carry it for nine months and then you take care of it after that.” You shrugged, hands on your hips.
But what Bucky hung onto was the fact that you didn’t oppose the idea of having a baby.
That made him smile, it was a small one. Though it took everything in him to not turn it into a grin. He was happier than before.
Another hint was dropped soon after that, because for some reason you just couldn’t take a hint. And for some reason, Bucky couldn’t grow enough balls to ask you.
“Do you think babies are adorable?” he randomly asks.
Both of you, strolling hand in hand, in a park. Which was filled with new moms with their newborns and toddlers running around. Did he bring you out here on purpose? Yes, yes he did.
“Of course, they’re adorable,” you said, leaning into his warmth, curling your hand around his bicep.
“I like ‘em,” Bucky comments, watching two toddlers running towards each other to meet in a hug. His heart melts at the sight. But nonchalance is still his motto. He truly doesn’t want to scare you off. Although, you’re stuck with him. But that’s beside the point.
“You know what I like?” you ask, your tone low and a bit dangerous. A finger curling around the chain of his necklace where his wedding ring is looped in. Bucky has tried wearing it on his left hand, but it keeps slipping off. And he’s afraid of losing it. Bucky hums in response, a slight furrow of curiosity between his brows. “The baby-making bit of it.”
He full-belly laughs at that. Head thrown back and eyes crinkling at the corners. “I couldn’t agree more, sweetheart.”
Laughter aside, Bucky came to his senses when he realised that both of you, in fact, need to go through the baby-making bit of it. Not that he didn’t think about it. He was just so preoccupied with the fact that he wants a child, the sex part had fused with excitement.
But every time you had sex, Bucky was incorrigible, horny, downright insatiable. It drove him insane that he would have to wear a condom for at least a few more days until he gets the courage to tell you what’s on his mind.
But the way he fucked you, he could tell something else would come over him. He felt like an animal in heat. He went hard and fast, was a bit sloppy at times, his cock would ache so much at the impulse control.
He swears, he could combust when he’d think about it. Think about not having to use that useless piece of rubber. Think about feeling your walls stretch around him. Think about nothing separating the two of you anymore. Think about filling you up, until he can’t anymore. Think about his baby growing inside your womb.
If he was being honest with himself, those thoughts were the only ones that helped his undoing every time you had sex.
So the fact that he was keeping it all inside his stupid little, fragile heart, didn’t help him.
God, why couldn’t he just tell you? You’re his wife, his other half, his soulmate. If he wants a baby, the two of you could start having the talk, at least get a headstart on the journey.
He’s pretty sure his emotions would burst out like an explosion. He’s taken back to the time when he was desperately and hopelessly in love with you, all those years back. When he met you in your restaurant, demanding the waiter to arrange a meeting with the chef because he wanted to give his compliments. You didn’t do that sort of thing at that time.
Now he thinks it would be a great meet-cute story to tell his kids. But how will he have them if he couldn’t tell you?
Just a few more days, and he’ll tell you. In those days Bucky conducts a little research. Google is his best option since he will not go to his friends to seek advice. Sam will only laugh in his face and Yori would start telling stories from his time – the old man could get a little explicit at times. Bucky could not live that nightmare again.
So in a world where people mostly searched, ‘My wife is pregnant, what do I do?’ Bucky searched things like, ‘How to get my wife pregnant?’, ‘How to get pregnant fast?’, ‘What are the best sex positions for assured pregnancy?’, stuff like that. He learned about the ovulation cycle. Learned how to record menstrual cycle frequency. Like any good husband would do.
Not that you will, but if you were to get a whiff of his search history, he would be mortified.
He knows there’s a fifty-fifty chance that your opinions on this baby matter could clash. But having absolute knowledge about this stuff is always good, right?
Bucky groans at the thought. He hopes there are no clashes in opinions. He drops his phone on his chest, heaving a sigh. The sunlight streams through the white cotton blinds as the wind gently blows them away. It’s been ten minutes since he’s been up. You’re already out of bed, probably cooking something. It’s Sunday, you like to take your time to make a big breakfast.
He finally gets up, padding over to the bathroom, splashes water on his face to wake his sleepy eyes. He notices that they’re out of toothpaste. Sighing, he checks the cupboard to get a new tube. While he was at it, he also noticed the box of condoms, which they’re almost running out of, too.
“This is a sign, Barnes.” he preps himself, huffing, “Man up and tell your wife you want a baby.” he nods to his reflection and brushes his teeth.
Bucky follows the smell of fresh waffles and berries and coffee, sweet maple syrup. Bacon and scrambled eggs.
But what really brings out his hunger is the sight in front of him when he enters the kitchen. You, standing at the counter, nursing a cup of coffee, dressed in his black button-up. Looking otherworldly, as always in his clothes. Always a pretty sight, always sexy. Always his.
The outline of your chest accentuated by the light material of the cloth. It leaves nothing hidden to his imagination. And boy, it’s running wild. Sweatpants hanging low, he feels himself twitch underneath the worn-out fabric.
Like a siren, you pull him in, and once he's standing behind you, he gives your waist a soft squeeze and your temple a loving kiss. Breathing in your sweet scent, combined with a hint of sweat and the activities that went down the night before. Hey, it was date night and you were wearing that particular dress he loves on you so much.
“G’morning,” Comes his sleep-tired greeting, thick with lack of use, but loving nonetheless. His mouth pressing on the area where your neck meets your shoulder, kissing languidly, running his tongue after he leaves a small nip.
Your reply comes in the form of a light giggle, the shoulder curling up against his honey kisses. “Morning… don’t tell me you haven’t had your fill yet?”
“With you?” More kisses to your neck, “Never.”
Soon his hands start to explore, pulling and squeezing wherever he finds soft skin. A little pinch your nipples, a harsh squeeze to your waist, deft fingers rubbing over your heat, slowly soaking your panties. You quiver, place the cup on the counter, afraid it will slip. His other hand massaging your relaxed shoulder. Lips as sweet as they are, keep pressing heated kisses along your neck and jaw.
“Bucky, we gotta at least get through breakfast… Please – oh,” A heavy sigh parts your lips when he nips at the pulse under the tender skin of your neck.
He can’t tell if you’re pleading him to go on or stop.
“Cheesy as it may sound, you are my breakfast, baby.” he cheekily says into your neck, hips pressed to your ass. His palm, large and callous runs under his shirt, pressing against your belly. That insane rush of electricity zipping down to his dick and he’s fully hard in seconds. Rutting against your ass once again.
The hand on your abdomen only seems to drive his brain towards the possibilities, and before he could gauge his words, he’s speaking, breath hot and clouding with lust when he says, “I wanna have a baby, honey.”
The way your body tensed before his own doesn’t go unnoticed by him. With a hand on your waist, he turns you around, cupping your cheek. Plush lips brushing against your own, reeling you into his touch.
“Let’s make a baby, sweetheart.” His voice is a husky drawl of a request.
And you’re astounded, “Bucky –”
“I know this is sudden for you.” he reasons, “But I’ve been thinking about it for a month now. And it’s killing me, not being able to tell you. We don’t need to do anything right now. I’m just –” he breathes hard, nose flaring, “God, the thought alone makes me so hard.”
A shuddered breath rattles out of your lungs, your bite your lip, but he pries it out with a gentle swipe of his thumb.
“Let me just fuck you right now. We can talk later. Just please, let me –”
“Okay,” you nod, fingers run through the short hair on his nape, the other hand fisting his shirt.
“Okay to what?” he stops to take a look at you, hand on your chin to make you look into his eyes.
“Let’s make a baby,” you kiss his lips once. But that just changes the entire course of this morning. A peck on his lips won’t cut it.
A sort of a growl leaves his lips, wetting his bottom lip, blunt nails holding you in a bruising grip as he turns you around once again. He rips your panties off your legs, using his foot to discard them once they reach your ankles. A nudge to your legs to part them and you brace yourself, a tight grip on the edge of the counter, anticipating his next move. Because, right now, you can tell he’s not the same Bucky anymore. Your affirmation on his request turned something entirely different in his brain – maybe he even short-circuited.
With a simple tug at the lapels of the shirt you’re wearing, he rips it open, the buttons falling on the granite countertops with a clattering sound. You’re bare before him in seconds, breathless before he even had a chance to touch you properly. A sweet whine parting from your lips when he squeezes your ass, his touch rougher than usual, spreads your cheeks and then –
“Oh, my God, Bucky –” he’s slipping his fingers inside you, collecting the wetness, holding your waist in a bruising grip. You roll your hips, trying to seek more of his touch. Your head feels heavy from the impact his words and his touch have on you.
You’re unbelievably wet, seeping down your thighs, down his fingers. Soaking him and still unable to stop yourself. His blood pumps a little harder in his chest, in his veins, breaths growing shallow with each passing of his fingers inside your tight, wet heat. Your legs start to shake after a particular thrust, unable to hold yourself up, crying out with tears burning behind your eyes.
You’re right there on the edge when his thumb stops circling and his fingers leave you empty.
“Why’d you stop?” you pant.
“I need to be inside you,” he groans, quickly taking off his shirt and sweatpants. His cock slaps wetly against his abdomen, twitching painfully when he touches himself. A few strokes, languid pulls that have his knees buckling, his hand joins next to yours on the counter and he lines himself along with your heat, “You sure you don’t wanna talk about this first?”
He can’t help but ask you, giving you an out before anything happens. He’s not sure why because he’s only wanted this for so long.
“Oh, Jesus – fuck, Bucky!” you pant, “Just fuck a baby into me already!”
The way he whimpers at your plea, desperate and frustrated, it’s hard not to comply with you, he slips right into you. He’s not met with much resistance, you’re impossibly wet and he’s sliding home in one long thrust. And the stunted breath that rags out of his mouth at the feeling of your walls clenching around his bare cock for the first time, it nearly sends him reeling.
Forehead on your shoulder, breathe hot on your back, Bucky holds off on fucking you right away. He can’t wrap his head around this feeling.
God, he needs a second.
“I can feel just how wet you are,” he whines, “Remind me, why did we ever use condoms?”
“The hell, if I knew,” you reply with a huffed chuckle.
“This has never felt so fuckin’ good,” he moans, starts moving, sliding out of you, leaving you almost empty before he’s rocking hard, back in. It’s enough to force the breath right out of your lungs.
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about fucking you like this? With my bare cock inside you – Ah, shit.”
“Believe me, I have,” you’re surprised you could get the words out through your gasps.
This… new version of sex, where he can feel every soft glide of your walls, where you feel every smooth, hard ridge of his cock, drives you both insane.
Only makes him move faster, makes you spasm around him quicker. Your broken moans spur him on. He pulls you flat against his chest, his vibranium arm cool across your blazing torso, holding your body close to his as he picks up his pace.
It’s all primal. His instincts, animalistic. The only goal in his mind to fill you up full of him. His right hand travels down to your belly once again, feeling the outline of his cock moving inside you. Turns him on beyond his imagination. And he can’t wait to see you get round and big, to watch your breasts grow heavier, larger. He remembers reading they get sensitive, he wonders if you’ll come with just a touch of his hands, with just a swipe of his tongue when you reach that stage.
“Tell me you want this. Tell me once again,” he breathes out, fingers inch down to where he disappears inside you, again and again, collecting the wetness that trickles down your thighs only to help him circle your nub.
“I want this, Bucky. I wanna have your baby, oh please –” you writhe against him, push your ass back into his hips, your back arching away, cool vibranium fingers toy with your nipples.
“You have any idea the research I did for this?” he chuckles, helplessly, grinding into you, more so than thrusting, the tip of his cock brushing your sweet spot, deliciously, repeatedly once he finds that angle. “All the positions we could try out to get you pregnant? Just thinking of all the ways I could fuck a baby insida’ you. Drove me nuts, honey.”
“Bucky –” Your walls grip him tighter, and he almost stutters to a stops.
“You’re close, aren’t you? Shit, squeezing me like a vice, sweetheart.” You nod and at this point, you’re wailing. The only way to muffle yourself is when you turn your head, a hand at the back of his neck to guide him closer for a kiss. Your tongue laves at his, and he tries to keep up with his thrusts but they’re getting sloppy with the way you suck on his bottom lip.
A final push and a splurge of white-hot intensity distributes itself all over your body, starting from your belly, reaching up to your chest as it swells up, flushed. And he’s coming too, balls pulled up tightly, he grows painfully hard inside you right before he releases. Breath hot and heavy, sweaty chest shivering with the aftershocks.
“I wanna go again,” he says, panting, noses at the underside of your jaw. You turn around to face him, eyes wide, still trying to catch your breath.
“Really?” you croak out.
But he gives you that smirk, it turns your insides to mush, “What? Are you tired?”
“I’m not a super-soldier with an insane sex drive, baby. I might need a minute, though. I’m not sure if I can even hold myself up.” you huff out, resting your head on his shoulder, grateful for his arms around your body as it sags against his.
“That’s what I’m here for,” Bucky says before pulling out. He turns you around and picks you up before even a drop of his come can seep out of you. A yelp tumbling out of your lips as he hangs you over his left shoulder, your arms finding purchase on his body, though you know he’ll never drop you.
“Bucky! Put me down!” you squeal, all the blood rushing your brain for a second. His vibranium palm is secured around your legs, the other hand kneads your ass, as he walks down the hallway to your bedroom.
“Nope!” His answer is punctuated with a sharp spank on your ass.
He carefully settles you on the bed, body sinking into the soft mattress. You prop yourself on your elbows and watch him crawl up the bed on his knees. He stalks you like a predator, eyes hungry and dark, brimming with pure, unadulterated lust.
Your legs widen on their own, his hands rest on your knees as he settles between your thighs. That’s when you start to feel a sort of warmth trickle down your weeping cunt, but Bucky is quick to catch it.
“Not a chance in hell,” Two of his fingers gather the hot trail right before it soaks the sheets, he shakes his head, pushes it back where it came from. And oh, your head falls back, as a languid moan escapes your lips, you can’t help it. You can’t keep looking at the way he stares at you down there. Ready to devour you without a single breather.
He’s hard and sleek and glistening. Bottom lip trapped between his teeth, he curls his hand around his girth. Releases a shaky breath when his thumb grazes over the tip. He’s a throbbing, pathetic mess above you. Unable to control this insatiable appetite for sex that suddenly came over him. It’s surprising, but what else would you expect from a freaking super-soldier all set to breed you?
He slides himself between your folds, once, twice, a third time only to watch your writhe against the sheets. Hands caressing your curves, your breasts, tugging and squeezing. Legs somehow spreading wider.
“One more time and we’re done for today, yeah?” he asks, eyes finding yours, “I wanna try this one position I saw this morning.”
“Is that what got you all worked up?” you chuckle, “As long as you’re doing all the work.”
“Gladly,” he mumbles, and the slide is easy, and the moans that slip out of those plush pink lips, easier, softer. It’s so filthy – the wet, squelching sounds that now accompany your sweet love-making. Bucky leans down to be closer to you, a gentle hand cupping his scruffy cheek to guide him for a kiss as he sinks right in until there’s no room left.
Noses brushing, heads tilting, mouths divulging for deeper kisses, wet and warm and sloppy as he begins to move. He’s gentle this time, threading your fingers through his own next to your wild hair laid out on the pillow. His wedding ring lands on your sternum, right above your beating heart.
The overwhelming feeling from before, the primal instinct that had taken over him had settled down… for now. He just wants to make love to you, in your bed, create life inside you, for both of you.
He’s desperate, light-headed from all the blood rushing south. Even though you’ve done this countless times, you’ve never seen him like this. It turns you on beyond your imagination. How his hunger turned into anguish. How he’s the one that has turned into a pleading, whimpering mess.
You kiss him until he eases into your touch, delicate fingers running all over his hot skin, over the ridges of the muscles on his back, smooth and rippling. Over his erratically beating heart that you help calm down a bit. Tongue seeking out his own, to make him focus on this one feeling at a time. And he kisses you back, for what feels like an eternity.
When the need for air arises, he pulls away but presses his forehead against yours. Breaths mingling, hot and damp. Then he adjusts himself, in a way where he’s slipping inside you even more. Your calves are brought to be placed on his sturdy shoulders, secured there by his arms bracketing the outside of your thighs. It’s a good stretch, comfortable in a way that makes you purr like a kitten.
And then he begins his move once again, hips undulating, rolling deliciously, lazily. The sweet symphony of your love-making soon fills the room. Both of you moaning, panting, the sounds softer than before. He kisses you some more, pouring all his love, all his affection into this simple act because he cannot express it any other way. This right here, your cocoon of love and warmth, desire and lust is all you want, all you need.
He whispers sweet nothings, he calls you sweet names, he tells you how he cannot wait to start a family with you. How completely and hopelessly in love with you he is, and how it’s the only thing that helps him get up every morning. You, your love, the warmth that your offer him.
His lips catch a tear the dares to roll down the side of your face, tasting the saltiness. Legs giving out, slipping down his shoulders but he doesn’t stop moving.
Not when you’re both so close, not when your hand travels down to claw at his back, grounding him into you, not when you’re grinding yourself against him, and definitely not when you beg him not to stop.
Your soft hand around his sweaty neck urges him to look into your eyes. And he’s helpless when you whisper, “Come inside me.”
“Jesus, sweetheart –” He feels that tingling at the base of his spine.
“I want it, please, Bucky.” God, you don’t have to plead. Chest rubbing against chest, sweat sticking and fusing your bodies as one, hearts beating as one. Toppling over together.
“Oh, fuck me,” he all but whimpers, hips stuttering to an abrupt halt as he spills into you.
He stills once it’s all over. Those glazed, coral blue eyes gazing over your features. Lips pressing over the delicate frown between your brows, to ease it, to calm you. More kisses follow, on your eyelids, on your cheekbones, down your jaw and neck, and your clavicle, and finally a lazy one to your lips. You brush away the dampened hair that fall on his forehead, kissing him just as fervently.
“I love you,” he beats you by a fraction of a second because you utter the same three words right after him. A bite of your lip to stop the laughter from pouring out. The dimpled smile you give him clutches at his heartstrings. His chest swells impossibly large and he’s never been more in love with you.
“I hope this works,” you mumble, your knuckles gently brush over the top of his cheekbone. Eyes on his, soft and loving.
“It will,” He assures you, with a sweet kiss placed over the golden band of your wedding ring.
“If it doesn’t, we have all the time in the world to try more.”
“Hmm,” He grins, “Let’s hope we can try all the positions before we get pregnant.”
“But we can get pregnant and still have sex in those positions.”
“No, I wanna see which one worked for us.”
You laugh, “Why does it matter?”
“You never ask a man why the position matters.” He states it as it is. A stern but playful pout on his lips.
“That makes no sense.”
“We’re just gonna have to agree to disagree, sweetheart.”
i hope you enjoyed reading! as always feedback is greatly appreciated! :)
(a little part ii)
3K notes · View notes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 7661 (Don’t come at me - you guys asked for it)
Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Fluff, Feelings, I Dunno What Else, This One’s Pretty Chill, Except The Ending, But You’ll See When You Get There
A/N: Here it is! I was hesitant about posting it because that means we’re getting closer to the end and I’m such a nostalgic bitch! I’m definitely gonna cry next week when the last episode comes out! Anyways, I’ve got a few things to talk about:
I think this is one of the most important chapters I’ve written and I’m excited to see your reactions to it. It is longer, but you guys asked for that, so you got it! Also, I’m loving the Asks, Comments, and Reblogs. I try to respond to all of them. I have work in a little bit, so I won’t be able to until after, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Ask me anything; about my series, the show, any of the movies, personal stuff, I really don’t care. If you’re not comfortable, that’s totally fine! Every like means so much to me!
I know it’s not the end yet - we’ve got one more episode and a list of One Shots to get through - but there’s a definite feeling of this series coming to an end, and I just want to thank you all for the support and love you’ve been giving it! I’ve really enjoyed writing these characters and this story! It’s very, very special to me and I’m glad I’ve been able to share it with you lovely people!
On that note, be kind to yourselves and others! Thank you again for reading! Excuse any mistakes - this isn’t beta’d! Enjoy and stay tuned!
!SPOILERS UNDER CUT! (Sorry for the gifs I just love them so much and he’s so pretty and this part is technically two parts so...you get four!)
“Louisiana.” Bucky hummed, looking around the airport.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re not gonna find anything interesting about Louisiana in here, doofus. Let’s call an Uber.”
“An Ooper? What the hell is an Ooper?”
You giggled, shaking your head and grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the luggage carousel. “Uber. It’s like…a taxi service. But there’s an app on your phone to get a driver instead of waiting for one on the street.”
“Oh.” He blinked, tilting his head. “That’s…helpful.”
You laughed again, stopping in front of Carousel 3, where your flight from New York was assigned. You went back to New York to grab a bag with clean clothes and other necessities, along with taking a real shower for once. It was nice to be back in the States, as much as you loved traveling. It’d been a crazy few weeks and you were ready to just relax.
“Do you think there were any problems with Sammy’s present?”
Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Especially considering they know who we are.”
You snickered at his slight grumble. They had had…problems at the other two airports - first the one in Sokovia then JFK in New York - considering Bucky’s entire arm was metal. It’d taken a full hour before they actually let you go, and by that time they had to give you a new plane because yours had left.
“Seriously. Who else has a fucking metal arm and has 1917 listed as their birth year on their Driver’s License?” You giggled again. That was also true. They thought he was messing with them. It wasn’t until you stepped in a few minutes after they asked Bucky to step to the side, seeing Bucky get frustrated, that they realized Bucky wasn’t pulling their legs.
“Well, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.”
He nodded in agreement, watching for your bags, his hand finding yours when he realized how many people there were. “Do you know where he lives? I didn’t even think about it.”
“Yeah, don’t worry. He invited me over once. I declined, but I saved the address.”
“He…invited you over?” Bucky frowned.
You gave him a look. “I’m sure he invited you, too. You just never checked his texts.”
He licked his lips, tilting his head. “Yeah, no, I know, but I mean…why didn’t you go? Weren’t you two just talking about how you wanted to meet his nephews the other day?”
“Yeah, but I had gotten a tip on Wanda at the time and I didn’t want to miss the chance that she was there. He told me it was fine. I still felt really bad. I could tell he was a bit disappointed. I think it was one of the boys’ birthdays. Or something. I don’t remember. Is that bad? Yeah, probably. I really should remember. Maybe I should keep track of birthdays on my calendar or something.”
“Doll.” You looked up to find him giving you a magnificent smile, teeth and all. “You’re rambling.”
“Oh. Am I? Sorry. I didn’t realize.”
He shook his head quickly, squeezing your hand. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute. I’m just not used to you talking so much. You kinda did on the phone sometimes.”
You shrugged, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck at his words. “I rambled a lot to Steve.”
His face fell, making you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, nudging him slightly to grin at him. “It’s nice to have someone to ramble to again, though.” There was that smile again. You were stopped from saying anything more when you noticed some kids pointing and chattering excitedly at a gleaming silver box coming around the corner on the conveyor belt. “There it is.”
He looked over his shoulder, dropping your hand and stepping over to grab it, lifting it effortlessly. You didn’t know what was in it or how heavy it was, but you were sure it felt like a feather to him.
“Alright. Got our bag, sweetheart?” You lifted up the duffle in answer and he jerked his head towards the doors. “Let’s get outta here, then. Call that Booper or whatever.”
“U-B-E-R! Ub-er!” You threw your hands up, following him as he started walking towards the exit. “What’s so hard about it?!”
He just gave you a little smirk over his shoulder.
Bucky kept asking the Uber driver questions about his job. The guy was super nice and patient the whole time, a thick southern accent lacing his answers. Southern hospitality was no joke and apparently had no limit as Bucky asked about his experiences, listening intently and telling him his own stories of taxi drivers in NYC.
When you got to Sam’s sister’s house, Bucky, being Bucky, tipped the driver half of what you paid for the ride, thanking him for his time and energy, before getting out.
“You’re so adorable, you know that?” You teased him as you stepped up the porch stairs and knocked on the door.
He rolled his eyes, a tint of pink dusting across his cheeks. “He was nice.”
You hummed at his defense, the smile never leaving your features. After a moment, Bucky raised his fist to knock again. “Jesus Christ! Don’t fucking knock their door down!” You grabbed his wrist and lowered it.
“Sorry. I forget sometimes.” Bucky informed you absentmindedly, tilting his head to peek in the window. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”
“They’re probably at the docks, then.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The docks?”
You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you. “Yeah. They have a boat, remember? He talked about it last week.”
“Oh right. The one he’s trying to convince his sister not to sell.”
“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I’m pretty sure it’s that way. I don’t know how far, but we can call the Uber back-”
Bucky scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna bother him again. We can walk.”
You gave him an incredulous look. “It’s literally his job to drive people around.”
“Well, yeah, but what if he’s got other people to drive?”
You lifted his metal knuckles to your lips. “Trust me, Buck, I’m sure he’d rather drive you than anyone else.”
Swinging your now linked hands, you gave a firm nod, letting him know it was, in fact, a compliment. “You are so very welcome.”
The walk was a lot longer than you thought it was, and you ended up on Bucky’s back after he kept complaining about how you “shouldn’t be walking this long” and you were “injured” and you “needed rest’”. You’re not sure how a shoulder wound affected your ability to walk, but you relented and let him carry you the rest of the way to stop his whining.
“You forget, you did pull your thigh.”
“That was, like, three weeks ago! Yeesh!”
You finally got to the docks, which were bustling with people. Bucky set you down and raised an eyebrow which you shrugged in reply to, before heading over to where you spotted Sam with a few other older men.
“How do we get it off the truck?” You heard Sam ask, pointing to a large boat engine part in the bed of a beaten up truck. Scoffing as Bucky lifted it up without breaking a sweat, you leaned against the truck. Bucky grunted and set it down, looking at Sam.
“You’re welcome.” What a punk. “Just dropping this off.” Bucky lifted the case and set it where the engine was previously, Sam coming to stand on the opposite side of the truck as you. “You can sign for it and I’ll go.” You snorted, shaking your head, making Bucky shove your shoulder - the uninjured one - playfully. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”
Sam looked at you curiously. You shrugged and shook your head. “Don’t look at me, Sammy. He wouldn’t tell me what it is. He’s all hushy hushy about it until you say so.”
Before Sam could reply, there was a squeak and hissing over at the boat where steam was coming from a few pipes.
“Sam!” You knew that was Sarah from pictures Sam showed you. You stayed up by the truck, pulling yourself onto the bed while Sam tried fixing the pipe, Bucky butting in to show him how to do it properly.
“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”
You saw Bucky lift up said metallic limb. “Well…I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m-I’m right handed.” Letting out a laugh, Bucky turned around and scowled teasingly at you. “And what’re you laughing at?!”
“Well then get your ass over here!”
You rolled your eyes, hopping down from the truck as Bucky asked if Sam wanted help with the boat. You leaned against a wooden post, grinning when Sam looked at you.
“I don’t have any plans.”
Sam gave a small smile, jerking his head back. “Yeah.”
You jumped down onto the boat to follow him, looking over your shoulder and stopping with an amused eyebrow raised as Bucky introduced himself to Sarah. “I’m Bucky.”
“Sarah.” Bucky repeated her name, before walking towards you, a grin still on his lips.
“Careful, Barnes. That playboy Steve warned me about is coming out.” You nudged him with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of your stomach dropping.
He rolled his eyes, kissing your head as he passed you and Sam to go where Sam was gesturing. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re still my doll.”
Sam raised an eyebrow, falling into step besides you and lowering his voice. “Conversation?”
“Hasn’t happened.” You informed him through clenched teeth as he groaned.
Sam gave you a list of chores that needed to be done to clean up the boat, giving you a quick tour and letting you know where all the tools needed where. You set to work immediately.
Sanding down, replacing old parts, cleaning, polishing and painting over the things that didn’t need replacing. They didn’t let you do any heavy lifting because of your stupid shoulder, but you were still able to help.
Sam had turned on some music for you to listen to, so you danced around the boat while cleaning. Turning your head when you felt a pair of eyes on you, you smiled when Bucky snapped his head back down to the wood he was sanding down.
“Gonna dance, Barnes?”
He looked back over, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m good watching you.”
Rolling your eyes, you got back to work, continuing to bop to the music, fully aware that he was watching you now.
A little while later, you were repainting the edges of the boat orange, when you looked over and noticed Bucky playing around with a paint scraper…sitting right on the edge that you had just finished repainting a few minutes ago.
He looked over, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”
You bit your lip, trying to hold back your mischievous grin. Shaking your head, you waved dismissively. “Never mind!”
He gave you a confused sort of pout, before shrugging and continuing to fidget with the tool. It wasn’t until later when he got up to help Sam tear the metal plating off the edge that it came to light with Sam chuckling and raising an eyebrow.
“Sit in something there, Barnes?”
Bucky craned his neck back, eyes widening when he saw the orange paint on his ass, contrasting with his jeans. You let out a cackle and he whipped towards you, pointing at you accusingly, although the small uptick of his lips let you know he wasn’t really mad.
“No, no, no!” You laughed, sprinting across the deck, shrieking when he grabbed your waist and spun you around. You gasped when he grabbed a paint brush and painted an orange stripe right down the front of your shirt. “James!”
“Justice, sweetheart.” He breathed in your ear with a chuckle.
You shook your head, wiggling out of his hold. “This is a nice shirt!”
“You should’ve thought about that before.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Your eyes caught sight of Sam behind him, who raised an eyebrow and the bucket of paint he was holding. You nodded with a little giggle, making Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What’s so funny over there, do - holy shit!
You guffawed as orange paint dripped down his head, Sam standing innocently behind him with the now empty bucket behind his back. “Samuel!”
“I’m gonna kill you!”
“Try me old man!”
“Oh my God!”
Paint, orange and white since those were the only cans they had out, flew across the deck, paint brushes being used like fencing swords.
You found out too late that wet paint was a little bit slippery and you slid on a huge puddle, sending you, not onto the ground below, but over the side of the edge into the water.
“Cher, you good?!”
The three of you looked at each other, stunned for a moment, before bursting into fits of laughter and you nodded. “I’m good!”
The boys helped you get back up onto the dock, Sarah appearing with towels she conjured up out of thin air. “Let’s get you into dry clothes. Do you have-?”
“We’ve got some. We got a bag.” You told her with a grin, facing the guys. “You two should clean up some, too. Sammy, you’ve got a little something right there.” You pointed to your cheek, his own having a giant white splotch from his temple to his jaw. “And Buck?” You sniggered, gesturing to the whole of him. “You’ve got a lotta something right there.”
“Ha. Ha.” He looked down. His top was practically tiger print, drenched in orange with white here and there, and his ass still orange as well. His hair, which had been plastered to his forehead, was starting to dry now, and it only made you laugh some more thinking about what a pain it’d be to get it out. For him, at least.
“God. Can’t even have a relaxing day on the boat with you two.” Sam jested once you finished up and joined him and Bucky, who had just finished dumping out some water buckets. Bucky had changed his shirt and it looked like they tried wiping their faces, but Sam still had small lines of white down his face. “How ‘bout a couple of drinks? Surely you can’t ruin that too.”
“Ruin?” You gasped in mock offence. “Sammy! I just made the day more…interesting.”
Sam chuckled, ruffling Bucky’s hair, which still had orange streaks in it. “Let’s go get some beers.”
You chatted for a bit, mainly you and Sam with you asking how Sarah and the boys were while Bucky with your legs in his lap, just listening to you two and sipping at his bottle. You had his hand in your own lap, wiping it down with a rag due to the paint that got on it.
“You’re lucky this is vibranium, you know.” You commented off handedly. “If it was your other one, it’d definitely get stained.”
“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky shot back with a teasing grin.
Sam spluttered. “Wh-what?! You started it!” You laughed, shaking your head.
Falling into a comfortable silence with just the water and birds chirping as your soundtrack, you downed the rest of your drink, which Bucky took as finished. “Well,” you moved your legs to let him stand up. He leaned forwards to clink his bottle against Sam’s and you stood up and stretched. “Gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night.” Sam gave you a look to which you rolled your eyes at as Bucky set down his bottle and grabbed his jacket. “Crash, you know?”
“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”
“Well I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.”
“Just stay here.” You laughed as Sam babbled on about how nice the people were here, grabbing the jacket Bucky handed to you. It was getting a bit chilly from the breeze on the water and the sun going down. Plus, that water was cold.
“But don’t flirt with my sister.”
You cackled at Bucky’s face, that turned serious, his head shaking. “No.”
“‘Cause if you do I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”
“Can’t hold back the dog, Wilson. It’s been stuck in a kennel too long.”
Bucky turned to you, grabbing your jaw and squishing your cheeks together. “You know what? You need to shush. You’ve been snippy all day.”
You just smiled as innocently as you could with your lips being held by his metal fingers. “You’re too fun to mess with.”
He pecked your nose. “As long as I’m the only one you’re messing with. I’ll be right back.” He let you go and spun around, maneuvering around the boat in a way only a trained assassin could do.
“Oh my God, please! Please just put me out of my fucking misery! You’re killing me, cher.”
“What?” You gaped at him.
“Don’t act innocent!” Sam huffed, giving you a pointed look. “If I have to watch you two make googly eyes at you one more fucking day with neither of you doing anything about it-”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, Sammy-”
“Don’t ‘come on, Sammy’ me! And don’t come at me with that ‘he doesn’t like me back’ bullshit. If you think for a second that boy wouldn’t follow you to the depths of the fucking ocean, you’re blind as a bat, woman.”
You shrugged, pushing up the sleeves of Bucky’s too big jacket. “It just…hasn’t come up.”
He deadpanned, shaking his head and standing up. “That’s it. I’m done. You two are driving me insane. I’m gonna lock you in a room until you have the conversation that needs to be had the next time either of you does something stupid.”
“Yikes. That’s gonna be quick.” At his look, your smile dropped and you nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll…I’ll bring it up later.”
“Tomorrow or nothing.”
Sam tilted his head, brow creasing. “Is it still Steve? Is that what this is still about? Because he’s gone, and he’s been gone and you need to get over it-”
“No. It’s not…” You sighed. “It clicked the other day. When we were hanging out. Steve left and, yeah, I might always love him, but Bucky…God…I love Bucky, Sam.”
The man grinned proudly. “I’m glad to finally hear you admit it. So what’s the problem?”
“It’s still complicated, right? I mean…he’s his best friend and I’ve never dealt with stuff like this before and-”
Sam’s smile dropped and he groaned again. “Imma head out. I can’t take this. Dumbass and dumberass. I swear to God.” You sniggered a bit as he grumbled, walking towards the ramp to climb off the boat, just as Bucky reappeared.
“Nope! Not right now, Barnes! I can’t handle it! I can’t!”
Bucky gave you a weird look. “What’d you do?”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Nothing.”
“Well, c’mon, doll. Sarah said she’s gonna make gumbo for us, whatever that is.” He held out his hand as you walked over.
“You’re such a city boy.” You teased lightly, taking his hand and letting him help you pull you onto the dock. You shoved the sleeves of his jackets up again since they slipped from the first time. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starving.”
“We have the couch and a mattress we can pull out, I just have to make Sam get it from the attic-”
“That’s alright. The couch is fine.” Bucky waved dismissively while you nodded in agreement.
Sarah raised an eyebrow at you two. “For both of you?”
You blinked, exchanging a look with Bucky, before shrugging and turning back to her. “Yeah.”
“Don’t fight it, Sarah.” Sam peeked out from the hall. “They’ve got a weird relationship.” You stuck your tongue out at the man while Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping your duffle bag by the couch. “How mature, Y/N.” Sam mimicked your action.
“Uhm…okay. Let me set up the couch for you then.”
Once everything was set up, you and Bucky thanking her for dinner - delicious and you’d never seen Bucky smile so much, the boys having kept him highly entertained throughout the meal - and for letting you crash, Sam and Sarah headed to their rooms, the boys already having been tucked in for the night.
“Are you gonna sleep on the floor?” You asked quietly, sitting down on the couch and doing the things for your night routine you didn’t already do in the bathroom.
“I think I’ll be okay.” He sat besides you. “I’ve been doing fine the past week or so.”
You smiled at him. “That’s good. Alright.” You stood up and stretched. “Let me just make sure everything’s in the bag and ready-”
You yelped when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest, shifting down to lay against the couch’s arm. “Do it in the morning.” He yawned, looking up at you tiredly. “I wanna go to sleep.”
“Then go to sleep, Buck. I’ll be right back.” He shook his head, his hold tightening as he sunk deeper into the couch.
“No. I fall asleep better with you.”
You rolled your eyes but grinned, settling down with your legs between his, your chin resting on his sternum so you could still look at him. He beamed, but you could see the exhaustion settling in, and he grabbed the blanket Sarah left over the back of the couch and draped it across your back, over both of your legs, before his arms crossed snugly under the covers at the small of your back.
“Dinner was nice tonight. I haven’t had a meal cooked like that in ages.” You hummed.
He nodded in agreement. “I think that’s the first time I’ve sat around a table with a family since the 40′s.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Did you like it?”
“Yeah...kinda makes me wish I had my own.”
“Your own what?”
You bit your lip, shyly avoiding his gaze. “You’re my family, Buck.”
A light kiss was pressed to your forehead, his fingers bringing your gaze back to his. “There’s no one else I’d rather have.” The room lapsed into silence again, the clock ticking on the wall, the low sound of crickets outside.
“You have really pretty eyes.” You mumbled, tilting your head slightly as you studied them. They always held so much emotion in them, especially in contrast to when you first met him as Soldat. They matched the water you fell in, and you wouldn’t mind falling over and over into them.
“Yeah, well, you’re just really pretty inside and out, so I think you’ve got me beat, doll.” He whispered back.
“You know who else is pretty? Sarah.”
He nodded with a hum. “That’s true. But I meant what I said. You’ll always be my doll.”
“So you’re not gonna ask her out?”
He gave you a weird look as you traced his sharp jawline absentmindedly. “Nah, sweetheart. It’s just…some harmless flirting. Except on Sam’s part.”
You gave a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah…he’s gonna strangle you. It is nice to see you like that, though. Flirty. Relaxed. Happy.”
“You make me happy, sweetheart.” He hummed, nosing your temple. “The road trip helped. I’m learning everything from you. Maybe not the flirting, but the carefree part.”
You blinked at him, finger stopping for a moment as you thought. “Oh…”
You felt his fingers dance up your spine, making you shiver slightly. “What I would give to know what’s goin’ on inside that pretty lil’ head’a yours, doll.”
“I just think it’s funny you’re learning how to be carefree from me…when I just started learning how to do it myself.”
You nodded, your finger continuing its path down his jaw. “I think it started with the goats.”
You nodded again, resting your cheek on his chest, watching your finger move up from his chin. Once you got to the end of his jaw, you lightly scratched his scruff. “In Wakanda. Our goats.” You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the way he physically melted at your words, his eyes going soft, his lips turning up slightly.
“Our goats, huh?”
But your tired brain wasn’t really processing what he said, instead focusing on the features your finger was now tracing - over his lips, up his nose. “You’re pretty too, Buck. Did you know that? Inside and out.”
He craned his neck to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, cuddle bug.”
Nodding, you nuzzled into his chest, finger feeling over the bumps and indents on the dog tags resting near your head. You tried going to sleep, but you kept shifting, your mind not shutting off.
“Hey, sleepyhead, I’m trying to, you know, sleep.”
“Sorry.” You apologized meekly. “I just…I dunno. I can’t.”
“Are you comfortable?” He peeked open and eye to look at you questioningly. You nodded. “Is it too hot? We can take the blanket off. I know I’m a walking furnace-”
You shook your head. “No. I don’t know why. I just can’t sleep.”
He licked his lips thoughtfully, before cradling your head and guiding you back down to his chest. “Lay down, sweetheart. Relax.” He stroked your hair, moving his head down to rub circles in your back muscles, pressing down harder when he felt knots.
You hummed, your eyes closing. “That feels good.”
“Shshsh. Just go to sleep.” His lips pressed against your head once more, lingering a bit longer than they usually do, as you felt yourself drift off. You cuddled his side, throwing a leg over his waist, before nodding off, only barely hearing his words. “Attagirl. There we are.”
“Doll?” You felt a shift underneath you and groaned, your eyes barely cracking open. “Hey, sleepyhead…it’s okay. I’m just gonna slip out from under ya, alright? Gonna go help Sammy with somethin’.”
You raised an eyebrow, letting him move you against the cushions as he sat up on the edge of the couch. “Sammy?”
“Yeah.” He bent over and kissed your cheek. You stretched out your limbs, about to rub your eyes, when he stopped you, kissing the inside of your wrists. “No. Not you, doll. Go back to sleep.”
“Bu’...’m gonna help.” You slurred out, looking at him with confused, squinty eyes.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Rest. You can help when you wake up again. Okay?” You mumbled out an “okay”, bringing the covers up to your chin and snuggling deeper into the cushions. “There ya go, cuddle bug. Good girl.” There was another kiss, one to your temple this time, before you slipped back into unconsciousness.
The next time you woke up was because of a clatter in the kitchen. You yawned and sat up, stretching, eyebrows furrowing when you realized Bucky wasn’t with you. It took you a moment to remember your conversation, which you half thought you dreamt.
You chuckled at the shouts, rubbing your eyes. “I am so sorry!” Sarah apologized, looking over at you from the stove. Trying to make the boys breakfast before school. Do you want anything? Eggs? Cereal? Toast?”
“Uh, cereal’s fine.” You stretched out your back again, before throwing back the covers and standing up, a little shakily.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sam went, would you?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I think him and Bucky went to fix something on the boat. I don’t for sure, though.”
Sarah groaned. “He probably went to fix the stupid water pump which doens’t need fixing. Dumbass.”
You chuckled, padding over into the kitchen. “Yeah. I just work with him. I can’t imagine growing up with him.”
“Trust me; some days you want to throw him in a box and send him out to sea. Bowls are in that cupboard.”
You snickered, moving over to grab a bowl from the cupboard she pointed to. “That’s how I feel with Bucky. Sam is less often, but when those two get together…it’s a full zoo.”
She laughed at that, nodding as she got out the milk and a few boxes of cereal for you to choose from, handing you a spoon. “That I believe.”
You started pouring your cereal, watching in slight amusement as she got the boys ready for school. “Bus is here! Get out the door! Bye! Love you! Make sure you take those extra lunches to-!”
“Yeah, mom! We know! Love you too!”
You gave a slight smirk as she huffed, looking around the kitchen at the pans and dishes left out. “Kids, huh?”
She gave you a smile. “Yeah. They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. How about you? Any thoughts of kids?”
“Me?” Your eyes widened, nearly choking on your food. “Oh God no. Not right now, at least. I don’t even have a solid house right now. My life’s too off the walls for that.”
You raised an eyebrow as she leaned on the counter. “Bucky? What about Bucky?”
“Does he want kids?”
“Uh…I dunno.” You shrugged, clearing your throat as you remembered your talk last night. “Kinda makes me wish I had my own.” You quickly pushed his words aside. “He hasn’t told me.”
“Wait, wait. You two…aren’t together then?”
You blinked, your eyes widening again. “Together? Me and Bucky? No…why? Did Sam say something?”
Her expression morphed into one of disbelief, crossing her arms. “Sam didn’t say anything. You guys did. Are you seriously expecting me to believe you aren’t together?”
“We’re not! I mean - he was flirting with you yesterday-”
“Right, okay. Honey, that’s flirting. And it’s harmless. The way he follows you like a puppy and you look at him like he hung the stars? That’s feelings. And that’s a lot more impactful than flirting.”
You frowned in contemplation. It was really that obvious? You were really that blind? This whole time? You knew Sam knew - but you just figured that’s because he’s been there since it started. And Sharon knew for the same reason. But Sarah? The woman you just met the day prior and had barely had a conversation with?
“It’s, uh…” You chewed on your cheek, swirling your cereal around. “It’s complicated.”
Sarah didn’t look impressed. “Do you like him?”
“I’m kinda in love with him-”
She shrugged, not letting you finish your bashful statement. “Then I don’t see what’s complicated about it.”
And that was that. She turned to clean up breakfast, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You thought it was more complicated than that. I mean…you were in love with your best friend. Who left you. With the guy you had feelings for who just so happened to be your best friend/crush’s best friend. And now you were completely in love with your best friend’s best friend, but your best friend still had a piece of your heart.
But…you loved Bucky. And he was here. And Steve was not. And when you put it that way…you guess it wasn’t so complicated after all.
You snickered as you walked up behind Sarah, the woman berating the men for not leaving the water pump along like she asked.
Sam shot Bucky a warning look, who grinned, but you were surprised to see Sarah ignore him, sending you a knowing glance instead, before turning back to Sam. “I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”
You chuckled, Bucky shooting you a wink. “Yeah, Samuel.”
Sam narrowed his eyes at you, turning to Sarah. “In our defense, you were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”
You nearly facepalmed at his “defensive” and you were trying so hard to hold back laughing as she told Sam off, sending them away.
“I don’t wanna hear a peep from you.” Sam pointed at you, but that only made your chortles come out, and you didn’t even bother hiding them. “She’s a very mean person.”
“It’s tough love.”
You giggled as they started arguing, slipping an arm around their waists, their arms instinctually coming up to your shoulders.
“Oh my God. A prowess?”
“Yes, Y/N. A prowess.”
“You know, maybe if you someone let me help-”
“Hey, woah! You were tired! I let you sleep! I was being nice!”
“Too late now. I’ll be lucky if Sarah lets me within a hundred feet of it!”
“She got you so good, Sammy!”
“I agree with Buck for once! You’re too snippy right now! And c’mon man! Stop flirting with my sister!”
“It’s my natural charm.”
“Charm? What charm?”
“Ouch, doll! That one hurt!”
“Okay.” You stepped out of the bathroom, walking over to the couch and setting the bag down on it. “I’ve got everything packed. We’ve got a little over an hour until we need to head out which gives you two time to go set something up for Sammy and maybe even a bit or training before we leave.”
Bucky frowned. “You’re not gonna come out?”
“I will in a bit. I just got a phone call I need to take.”
Sam narrowed his eyes. “Government call?”
You gave a mocking smile. “Can you guess what they want to talk about? It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’s only a phone call, so I can always hang up. Pretend I didn’t have good service. I do it all the time.”
“I’m sure you do.” Sam chuckled. “In that case, I’m gonna go grab some stuff and get the shield.” As he walked out, he made sure to mouth at you behind Bucky’s back ‘conversation’ making you swallow thickly. You were planning on talking to Bucky anyways, and with Sam’s insistence…
“Okay, so, I was thinking when we get back-”
“Can I talk to you?”
Bucky stopped digging through the bag, blinking at you in surprise at your sudden burst. “Uh…well, we already are, so yes.” He chuckled, straightening and crossing his arms.
“I wanna have the conversation.”
He was left stunned, once again, his mouth opening and closing and his weight shifting form one foot to the other. “Like…that conversation? R-right now? Are you sure?”
You winced at her nervousness. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda…I just…I need to talk about it. Now.”
“Okay, okay. No, that’s fine. Don’t apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it.” Bucky cleared his throat. “That’s all.”
“Okay…” You breathed with a small nod. You opened your mouth, but Bucky shook his head.
“I hafta say this first; I didn’t mean to hurt you by telling you about Steve. I-I dunno what I thought. That it’d give you closure or something. I dunno. But it hurt you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”
“I was jealous. And guilty. And mad. And upset. I still am. Kinda. I guess. I dunno.” Bucky shook his head, running his hand through his hair and all you could do was gape at him as he started confessing to you. “Remember when we danced? In Madripoor? Doll…I don’t wanna dance ever again if it’s not with you. I fucking love you, Y/N. And not in the way we’ve said it before. I’m in love with you. I have been for-for a while now. I just - you were Steve’s. Steve loved you and you loved Steve and that was that and I was just the broken childhood best friend. But Steve left and he told me to take care of you and I didn’t know what to do with that, because you still love Steve. I think. I dunno. And I didn’t want to break what we have because you’re all I have left of him. You and that stupid shield. You’re my family. My home. I really meant it when I told you that. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because it means too much for me to break what we have because I fell in love with my best friend’s girl. You know?”
He looked at you with pleading eyes, begging you to understand, but your brain was still trying to process what he was telling you.
“Oh God…” He groaned. “And now I just told you everything and you’re looking at me like that wasn’t what you wanted to hear and now I’m thinking this wasn’t the conversation you were thinking it was going to be-”
You were moving across the room before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the teal Henley you knew was comfortable having worn it to bed before when you visited him in New York, and slanting your lips over his.
His breathing hitched and he froze, and for a hot second you thought you made everything worse, but then he was kissing you back and his hands were on your hips and he was pulling you closer and it felt so fucking good you didn’t want to pull back for air.
“Shut up.” You muttered when you finally did pull back, your forehead against his, your eyes clenched shut. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” You pulled back to look up at him, chests heaving against each other, your eyes prickling. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at opening up. I only ever was good at it with Steve but Bucky…I’ve been doing it with you. This whole time and I didn’t even realize it until the conversation in the car.”
He reached up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the relieved tears that were falling from the weight you were finally getting off your chest.
“I love you. I’m in love with you. How could I not be? After all that time in Wakanda? I was never Steve’s girl, Bucky. I wanted to be. Dammit, did I wanna be, but I wasn’t. Not really. And he’s gone. But you’re not. And I don’t know why it took me so long to see that. That you’re the one in front of me. You’re the one who held me when I needed it once he left. You’re the one that would listen to my rambles that I’m just realizing was most of our phone calls. You’re not just the broken childhood friend. Don’t ever think that. I don’t pick up the phone at five in the morning after searching for a friend until two for just anyone. Even Steve’s best friend. And I’m such an idiot because I’ve been pushing away my feelings all these years for Steve and then I let them out with you at the wrong time, because I love Steve, Bucky, but I’m not in love with him. Not since I fell in love with you. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but Steve was the first one I cared about and that’s just how I feel and I can try to explain, but-”
His lips crashed onto yours again and you could taste the salty tears that were pouring down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. He was holding you and he was kissing you and it was even more perfect than you thought it’d be.
“You’re adorable when you ramble, but Jesus Christ, shuddup, doll.” He breathed. “Just tell me you love me. Tell me you love me just a fraction of how much I love you.”
You looked up into those ocean eyes, your own shining with earnest affection. “James Buchanan Barnes. I love you.”
“That’s all I need to know.” He murmured against your lips, holding your head against his, still wiping away your tears. It felt like with each one that fell, you felt lighter and lighter. Like they were taking away every fear and anxiety you held within you for the past six months.
“Alright! I was thinking we could just set up in these trees out here - holy shit! Is it done? Did you do it? Did I miss it? Has the conversation been had?”
Bucky chuckled as you giggled. “He has the worst timing.” The last two words were loud enough so Sam could hear, although the man heard the whole sentence.
“I’m gonna take that as a yes!” Sam cheered. “Halle-fucking-lujah! Finally! I was that close to locking you two in the attic.”
You shook your head at Sam’s personal celebration, drowning the rest of his words out as you looked at Bucky, who swept his thumb over your cheek catching one last tear, before pecking your lips.
“I finally get to kiss where I really want to.” He spoke softly, kissing your lips again. “Are you mine, doll?”
“I thought you said I’d always be your doll.” You answered cheekily. He grinned, kissing you again, pulling you against him by the hips.
“Okay, okay! That’s enough! We get it! You’re in love, finally, but I don’t wanna see it anymore! Now will you come help me with this shit?”
Bucky left one more lingering kiss on your lips, before you pushed him away reluctantly. “I’ll be right out.”
He nodded, moving over to help Sam carry the things he’d gathered.
You watched them put it all up from the window, gnawing on your cheek as you spun your phone in your hands. Coming to a decision, you tossed your phone in the duffle bag and walked out with it just as the boys finished.
“That was a quick phone call.” Sam raised an eyebrow.
You shrugged. “Didn’t call them. If they really need me, they’ll find me.”
Bucky grinned as you set the bag down under a tree, pecking your lips when you got close enough for him to grab by the waist to hold you against him. You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully away and giggling as Sam let out a groan.
“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sammy.”
Bucky knew he needed the tough love talk Sam was giving him. He needed to hear it. Because, deep down, he had known it all along, he just refused to believe it. He tried doing it. Making amends. He knew he wasn’t though. And of course he knew immediately who that one person would be.
“And hey.” Bucky looked at him. “Let me tell you what. Telling my girl all that you told her? That’s a good start. I’m proud of you. Both of you. You’re already happier. I can see it in your eyes.”
Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he thought of the gorgeous woman he nearly let slip through his fingers. He looked over to the house, where she was inside somewhere getting ready after suddenly deciding she needed to shower before they left. “I was stupid.”
“Yeah you were. You both were. I’m so relieved it’s over.” Sam nudged him. “Treat her right, Buck. She deserves it.”
“I know…I just hope I can.”
Sam shook his head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You were just starting to use that cyborg brain of yours! She chose you. And before you say anything,” Sam cut Bucky off from speaking as he opened his mouth to object. “She chose you before Steve left. It just took her dumbass this long to realize it.”
Bucky nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay…” Before he could say anything, the goddess herself stepped out, jogging over, looking absolutely amazing in her jeans and his t-shirt. “Good talk.”
Sam laughed at his quick ending of the conversation as she came up besides them. “Talking about me?” She asked cheekily, eyes shining. Bucky couldn’t help but take her under his arm, pecking her lips. Now that he could, he didn’t think he could stop. He was addicted to say the least.
Throwing Bucky a wink, Sam shrugged. “Just all the things that get on our nerves.”
“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes. “We better get going.”
Bucky and Sam clapped hands. “You know Karli won’t quit.”
Bucky smiled. “Ah. You call us when you have a lead and we’ll be there.”
Y/N stepped forwards to give Sam a hug. “Anytime, Sammy.”
“Eh. Anytime between noon and midnight.” Bucky corrected. “Or noon and ten. Noon and five…you better just call at noon to be safe.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.”
“Not necessarily as a team.” Bucky continued, grabbing the bag, getting Y/N back in her spot at his side under his arm.
“We’re not that good.”
“And, uh, we’re partners.”
Sam snapped, pointing at him. “Coworkers.”
“But we’re also a couple of guys with a couple mutual friends.”
“Ones now gone and you’re dating the other.”
“So we’re a couple of guys…with a badass to help out.”
“I can live with that.”
“Oh my God.” Y/N let out that laugh Bucky could never get enough of, shaking her head at the two of them. “You forgot dumbasses.”
Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That’s your couple name.”
“Oh yeah.” The three of them came to a stop, Bucky and his girl - God he loved confirming it now - facing Sam. “Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot.”
Bucky patted his shoulder. “Of course.”
Y/N shot him a wink. “Until we meet again, Sammy.”
“Until then, cher.”
Bucky couldn’t stop his grin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, the two of them starting to walk to the main road where she already ordered an Uber. He looked down at her, kissing her lips for the nth time in the past hour.
“I wish I didn’t wait so long,” he told her seriously. “But I’d wait a thousands more centuries if it meant I get to call you mine.”
She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re such a sap! But…” she moved up to kiss him and his heart stuttered. He knew he had a goofy grin on when she pulled back, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she laughed again. “I have to agree with you on that, Buckaroo.”
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I’ve Got You
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky's recovery from his time as the winter soldier was a long road. But the final challenge proves to be the toughest.
Warnings: angst, tfatws spoilers! 1x04
Word Count: 1,191
a/n: I wrote this in an hour because episode 4 completely broke my heart and this is how I plan on coping. Spoilers below!
*amazing gif credit to @august-walker *
The fire was your only source of light as the three of you waited in silence. Months of tireless work had lead to the current moment and the tension hung thickly in the air.
You stood side by side with Ayo as Bucky sat in front of the fire, aimlessly glaring into the flames. He was terrified and you didn't blame him.
You were all aware that what you were about to attempt wouldn't be an easy task. Banishing the Winter Soldier from Bucky’s subconscious had been a draining process, both mentally and physically. And you knew the final test would be the worst yet. And Bucky knew he wouldn't be able to do it alone. Or rather, he didn't want to. That's why you were there. He needed someone he could trust, someone he cared for. Someone that could anchor him to the real world and offer him comfort whilst he faced his demons.
Ayo shuffled impatiently and turned to you with a curt nod. It was time to begin. Bucky was still in a daze, expression blank. You weren't sure if he was aware that he was now visibly shaking.
You stepped forward and softly placed your hand against his shoulder. He flinched at first before immediately relaxing under your touch. He exhaled slowly.
“It is time,” Ayo said and you carefully seated yourself next to Bucky, so close your shoulders brushed.
He turned to you with a justifyingly troubled expression, his eyebrows creased, his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes, his eyes panic-stricken.
“You're sure about this?” His voice was nothing more than a hushed whisper, only barely audible over the crackling of the fire.
Smiling reassuringly, you nodded and inched closer to him. He did his best to focus solely on you and nothing else. But despite his best efforts his heart still thumped against his ribcage and his mind became increasingly crowded with what if's as he reminded himself of everything that could possibly go wrong.
“Shuri's confident that it's going to work.” You said softly and Bucky’s eyes saddened further as he glanced at you helplessly.
“She's not the one I don't trust.”
“I won't let you hurt anyone,” Ayo promised and you both knew she meant it. Bucky's terrified gaze fell to the dirt but you managed to coax him back into looking at you with soft pleas and a gentle hand under his chin.
“I'll be okay. We'll be okay.” You comforted. You gently took his hand in your own, lacing your fingers together and placing your free hand against his forearm. He looked at you in desperation. “I'm not going anywhere.”
His hold on your hand tightened as you nodded to Ayo to begin. This was it. She stepped forward, repeating each word slowly and clearly.
Bucky's expression turned somber as he glared into the flames. He clenched his jaw in hopes of hiding his trembling lip.
Fear broke through his facade as his eyes glazed over and he fought back tears. You muttered quiet words of encouragement and comfort.
“It's not going to work,” Bucky said desperately, his voice laced with fear. You moved your hand to gently run up and down his back and shushed him quietly.
“It will, Bucky. It will.”
He inhaled sharply as he shook his head. Your hand came to rest against his shoulder and he subconsciously leaned into you as the horrors of his time spent as hydras puppet jumped to the forefront of his mind.
Tears were not visibly building in his eyes and staining his pale cheeks.
He gritted his teeth as he grappled with himself. All those nights you'd spent lying awake together when the memories were too bad for sleep to even seem plausible. All the times you'd been forced to hold him down and beg him to wake up when he'd been plagued by nightmares. All those times completely paled in comparison to how vulnerable he looked now.
His hand tightened around yours with such strength you couldn't withhold a gasp. For a moment, his iron grip had you fearing that the Soldier had clawed his way back into control.
But one glance at his tear-filled eyes and you knew it was still Bucky. Still your Bucky. Fighting to keep control of his mind.
His tears fell freely, his lip trembling and you wanted nothing more than to comfort him. To pull him to you and assure him that he was alright, that he was safe. But you knew he needed to do this alone.
As the final words were spoken, silence fell over you all again. Both you and Ayo watched Bucky attentively, waiting for a reaction. Your hands lay still against him but they ached to move, to comfort him and wipe away his tears. But you had to wait.
After a few moments that stretched out to feel like an eternity, you desperately turned to Ayo, who was standing behind you and still watching Bucky with the same vigilance you had been. She nodded to you, almost unable to hide her smile.
“Bucky?” You tried timidly, gently squeezing his hand. He still looked terrified.
“You are free,” Ayo whispered, unable to keep her own emotions from seeping into her voice. “You are free.”
He turned to you in astonishment, his cheeks damp and his eyes mirroring the fear and uncertainty of a child.
“It's okay.” You gently raised your hand and caressed his cheek, brushing away his tears. He leaned into your touch, exhaling frailly. “You're okay. You did it, Bucky.”
What was left of his composure crumbled as he broke, overcome with emotion and sobbing in relief. He was free. He was finally free.
He fell against you and you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around him as he buried into the crook of your neck. You ran your hand through his hair and softly comforted him as you held him close.
Ayo turned away as she blinked away her own tears. She'd witnessed Bucky's struggles and seen first-hand the extent of his pain. He deserved peace and happiness and knowing those very things were now within his grasp caused a lump to form in her throat.
She nodded to you as she took her leave. Her work was done. Now Bucky needed you.
“It's alright.” His sobs slowly died down into quiet whimpers as you held him close. “I've got you.”
He breathed a quiet laugh of disbelief against your shoulder and you smiled. He was drained, the exhaustion of what he'd just went through clashing with the uncontrollable joy he felt, knowing he'd been freed from so many burdens he'd been forced to carry.
But for now, until feeling returned to his legs and he could think a coherent thought, Bucky had no desire to move from where he was huddled into your side.
“Stay?” He whispered against your neck, not having the strength to say much else. You smiled and hummed softly.
“I told you,” you placed a gentle kiss to his temple. “I'm not going anywhere.”
tag list: @bakerstreethound @miraclesoflove @doozywoozy @kealohilani-tepise
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Pierced Through and Through
Summary: Bucky has planned the perfect vacation. All he has to do is get through the metal detectors without revealing his secret.
Pairing: TFAWS Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 3.5K
Warnings: Smut, exhibitionism, praise kink, piercing kink (Bucky has brand new c*ck piercing), mile high club public sex, airplane bathroom sex, oral (m receiving), p*ssy slapping, dirty talk,, dom/sub dynamics, begging kink, choking kink, Minors DNI
A/N: Beta’d by the wonderful @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog and @whisperlullaby and an entry for her challenge! All mistakes are my own.
Do not copy, translate, reproduce, rewrite or repost any of my works. Comments, likes and reblogs are welcome and cherished. By hitting read more, you agree that you are 18 and older.
Bucky Barnes is a romantic, you blame it on his 1940s upbringing. It’s not unusual for you to come home to flowers, chocolates, and oh his home-cooked meals. Nothing like seeing him, all six feet of thick ripped muscles, standing in front of the stove wearing nothing but an apron, holding up a spoon dripping with fragrant marinara sauce, telling you to open wide and swallow like the good girl you are.
For the past week, he’s been acting strange, hiding his laptop whenever you wander into the room.
He keeps staring at you to the point where you’re looking down at yourself, wondering if you spilled something. Each time he follows up with his signature smirk, pure lust in his deep blue eyes. He’s always insatiable but something is different, he’s holding back something from you, often distracting you with mind blowing sex, in fact, the only warning you get before he’s on you, in you, is his bottom lip catching between a flash of pearly white teeth.
When he announced the vacation it all made sense, his odd behavior, his increased libido. He’s been thinking about all the filthy things he’s going to do to you in another country.
And you are ready for it.
The ride to the airport is peaceful, the sky shades of dark azure and teals, the crescent moon visible to your left. The early morning traffic is light, so you arrive earlier than expected. While it pained you to get up before the sunrise, you have to admit it’s worth it to not deal with crowds of people. His hand, heavy and warm, rests on your thigh as he pulls into the lot.
“You can hold my hand or nothing at all.” He says, giving you a pointed look when you try to take your bag from the backseat. With a giggle, you lace your fingers between his as he shoulders all of the suitcases and bags in one arm. The airport buzzes with activity, people milling about, shops preparing for the rush in an hour or two. You squeeze his hand with excitement the closer you get to the check-in point.
Soon you’ll be on a tropical island with nothing but him, drinks, and the sand. Nothing between you but the salt tinged breeze and the sun.
Bucky’s steps falter when you near the terminal, ahead of you the airport security waving people through, checking belongings.
“You okay?” you ask when he hesitates, his Adam’s apple bobbing twice, his eyes flitting across the space. Bucky smiles briefly before setting the bags down in the grey bins.
You go through the metal detector first and turn to wait for your bags to travel down the conveyer belt.
He follows, setting off the alarm.
He’s never done that before, not since he has had the upgraded arm.
“Sorry, Sergeant Barnes, protocol.” The TSA agent apologizes before he picks up the thin black wand, waving it over his body.
You watch him, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Bucky sighs, his eyes closing. He seems oddly resigned. Your brows furrow when you see sweat bead along the crown of his forehead.
Bucky feels the back of his neck becoming hot, a flush creeping up his chest. He averts his eyes, aware that you’re looking at him, his breathing becoming heavier, more noticeable. The agent pauses at his abdomen, “Are you alright, sir?”
Bucky attempts a smile, the grimace putting you and the agent on edge. The wand dips lower.
The loud piercing sound reaches your ears, at first you assume it’s because of his belt. But then you remember Bucky isn’t wearing a belt.
He’s wearing loose gray sweatpants because you told him he should be comfortable for the trip.
The wand shifts back up. Beep. Right over his dick. The agent brings it back up and down. Beep.
You take a step forward as the agent steps backward.
You speak in unison. Bucky’s face turns a deep maroon, nearly matching the red lacy bra you’re wearing under your blush pink sundress.
“It’s supposed to be a surprise.” He spits out through gritted teeth. His chiseled jaw clenched tight, a muscle twitching in his scruff-covered cheek.
You exchange glances with the befuddled agent. Licking your suddenly dry lips, you glance around the semi-crowded airport. Thankful that few people recognize the super-soldier with his oversized hoodie concealing his arm.
“Sir, whatever you have tucked in your pants-“ The agent begins, clearing his throat nervously when Bucky’s eyes land on him. You admire the man’s bravery, not many can face down your man when he’s giving them his signature death stare. “- you’ll need to put it on the conveyor belt.” His voice cracks when Bucky stands up straight, cracking his neck.
Bucky crooks his index finger and motions for the agent to come closer. He looks back at you and you shrug, giving him a helpless I have no fucking idea what’s happening look.
You rock onto your tiptoes to try to take a peak, failing to seeing much. You can only make out Bucky’s arm moving forward, a shocked gasp, and the sound of elastic snapping against skin.
“Oh wow. Wow, I’ve never seen anything that big, I mean-” he looks over his shoulder at you. “-how are you not waddling right now?” His flustered tone makes you blink slowly.
Tilting your head, you place your hands on your hips. “What?”
The agent drops his eyes, “M just saying, should be walking side to side.” He sings the last bit. Your lips pull down into a confused frown, opening your mouth to ask him what the hell is going on, Bucky cuts you off with a loud groan.
“I assume we can go.” He snarls, the sound making your belly twist, you don’t know what’s happening but you like it when he gets riled up. Bucky grabs his belongings out of the bin resting on the conveyor belt.
“Sergeant, you can do whatever you want.”
“Excuse me?” you exclaim incredulously, eyes widening. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Bucky grabs your arm, spinning you around. ”Let’s go.“
He ignores your questions, his hand hovering over the small of your back, guiding you through the airport. You struggle to match his long strides, his blank, angry stare alone parting the crowds until you reach the gate.
Once you’re on the plane, you’re led into the private cabin, only three other people besides the flight attendant are in your section. You sink into your buttery smooth leather seat and wait for him to put up your bags. Suspiciously studying him as he reaches into the overhead cabinet, cursing yourself for talking him into wearing that large sweatshirt. You can’t make out a thing through the thick fabric.
Bucky plops into the seat beside you. His gaze fixated on the serving tray. He’s concerned, almost nervous. No, he can’t be. Nothing makes your man nervous. You touch the side of his face with the pads of your fingers, massaging his jaw.
The word hangs in the tension thick air.
He sighs, eliciting a deep groan from his chest as he tilts his head back. Running your fingers through his soft locks, you turn in your seat. “So you wanna tell me- “
“It was going to be a surprise.”
Scratching his scalp until he relaxes, you wait for him to continue, his blush returning. After a minute, you tug his hair. “You said that already. What is it exactly?” You retort, emphasizing “it”.
Bucky lolls his head to the side, his piercing slate blue eyes gazing into your curious ones.
You stare at his plump pink lips, trying to process the jumbled words. “You what?”
Another groan. You stare at him gesturing for him to repeat himself.
Bucky reaches down and pulls his hoodie up, the grey fabric bunching up over his chest, his darkening blues never leaving yours. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his black and gold hand reach under the band of his sweatpants.
“What are you doing?” You hiss, looking around grateful that no one is paying attention to you.
The flight attendant is talking to the wealthy-looking older couple a few rows ahead and the person behind you is sleeping.
When you drop your eyes back down, you gasp. Your hand flying to your mouth to stifle it. Your gaze sweeps across the cabin, thankful that no one heard you.
His cock is out.
Buck has his hardening cock in his fist.
The thick veiny shaft visible between his fingers, but it’s the head. The swollen tip with precum leaking out that has your attention. Holy fuck. The silver piercing going through it, making it look even larger. Your hand twitches, wanting to touch it.
“Oh, fuck.” You breathe out, letting your hand fall from your face. “Fuck me.” You mean it, please fuck me Bucky.
Bucky takes a deep breath, his eyes holding a hint of concern. “You know how I’ve been on the internet more.”
His hand shifts up his shaft and the rigid piercing moves slightly. “I saw a video. ”
You’re not even listening right now, too distracted by the silver gleaming under the fluorescent lights, it’s curved, two small balls attached to the ends. Your mouth watering at the thought of running your tongue over it. “Mm-hmm.”
Bucky can’t tell if you’re happy or not, holding himself tighter. He wonders if he should have asked you first. “Supposed to make you feel good. Enhance your pleasure.” He explains defensively, a cautious edge to his voice.
“I can take it out, doll.”
That snaps you out of your daze. “The hell you will.”
Without thinking, you drop your head to his lap, your tongue flicking over the leaking tip. His unique salty taste bursting on your tongue, you trace the smooth piercing, marveling at the contrast between his soft flesh and hard metal.
“Damn, I love you.” His voice low and needy, the way you like it.
He cradles the back of your head with his large palm, not pushing but waiting for you to guide him into your mouth, breathing through your nose, you ease down his thick cock.
He tastes so good. His warm heavy weight on your tongue, the piercing a strange feeling in your mouth, bobbing your head, you hollow your cheeks sucking him until you feel his thigh tense under your hand. You know exactly how he likes it, loudly, sloppy with tears streaming down your face, you really wish you could give him what he deserves right now but you’re not even hiding the fact that you’re sucking his cock.
You pull back, licking up the side of his shaft, the veins throbbing with each twist of your hand. Bucky murmurs soft praises that have you craving more, you swirl your tongue around it and he moans quietly, painfully aware that anyone can see his girl taking his cock. “Fuck, you’re good doll.”
You take him back in your warm mouth, gagging softly when he hits the back of your throat. Bucky whispers under his breath. “My sweet dirty little girl-”
You hear a loud exaggerated cough coming from behind you. You pull off of him with a laugh, wiping away the string of spit, Bucky clenches his fists taking in a deep breath trying to control the urge to face fuck you in front of these nice people.
Sneaking a glance over the top of your seat, the man behind you has his eyes shut, his lips pinched together. You slump back in your seat, face burning. You really gave Buck head in the middle of the plane. Looking down at his cock, you’re seconds away from finishing the job.
“In five minutes, meet me in the bathroom.” His deep voice delivering the demand right in your ear.
Bucky tucks himself back in his pants and saunters down the aisle. You grin at your clasped hands, containing your eager squeal. It’s about to go down. Your pussy throbs with every second that passes. You’re almost afraid to get up because of how wet you are right now. You keep your chin tucked to your chest, ignoring the chuckling from the person behind you, and dart down the aisle, mumbling sorry when you almost knock over someone.
You open the door and peek inside. “Buck-”
He grabs you, shutting the door behind you. He shoves you up on the sink and for the second time in ten minutes; you struggle for air.
Bucky is completely naked, pants pooled around his feet, shirt over the small toilet, the harsh white light reflecting off the piercing as his cock sways. His large muscular body crowding the small space, pushing you back into the mirror. He’s everywhere. His hands part your thighs, cool smooth metal and warm rough hands, languidly rubbing your skin.
Bucky grins at you. “I was going to have the first time be on the beach but I can’t wait doll.”
“Good.” You moan, his fingers pressing into your thighs.
His breath hitches when you reach out, telling you to don’t act shy now, it’s your cock doll. Even without his dirty praises in your ear, his hand guiding yours down to his throbbing erection between your bodies, you’re so turned on, ready for him. Your panties clinging to your sopping wet cunt, your dress bunched around your waist.
“Take it.” He orders, every bit the Sergeant he is, daring you to defy him.
You want him too bad to even think about teasing him today.
You stroke his cock, in awe of the way the metal curves around his tip, gently caressing the end of the metal with your thumb, pulling the side of it. Bucky feels it through his entire cock, a vulgar grunt in his chest, his hands digging into your thighs. You’re going to be bruised tomorrow.
You glimpse up at him through your lashes, he’s seconds from losing it. Your clit aches at the thought of him going feral.
You stroke it again, harder this time, comparing the warm metal to his heated flesh and you twist your hand firmly. He groans your name, his hand grabbing your wrist, pulling you away. “Keep it up and I’ll cum.”
“I thought you said you could only cum in my pussy or mouth, Sergeant.” You say sweetly, biting your bottom lip.
The veins in his neck pop out his control splinters, his growl sending jolts straight to your pussy. Bucky leans down, crashing his lips down over yours, his hands lifting your hips off the counter, dragging your panties down until you can kick them off.
You need him inside you, stretching you right now.
“So pretty,” he whispers, pulling you to the edge of the sink, his cock bobbing over your stomach as you grip the walls for support. Bucky is a fucking tease when he knows you’re the needy one. He knows how badly you want him, but he’s going to make you beg.
Holding his shaft, he eases his swollen head through your heated folds; you flinch when the metal taps your clit, its firm and cool on your pulsating bundle. A breathy wanton moan pouring out when he does it again.
“Bucky.” You whine, wrapping your legs around him, trying to bring him closer.
Bucky shakes his head, “Not until I’m ready.” He smirks when you glare at him. “Wanna challenge me, doll?”
His metal hand latches around your throat and you almost cry when he squeezes. You’re no match for him, he knows your body too well, how much pressure to apply to make you break, how to put you back together and rip you apart again without breaking a sweat.
He circles your clit, tracing intricates patterns over you, light touches that have you rocking forward desperate for friction until you whimper out please Bucky, please baby. Fuck I’ll do anything, just, please.
“Not good enough, I don't know if you really want it doll, doesn’t sound like you do?” He taunts, his hand tightening over your throat as you beg for him.
Bucky slaps your pussy with his cock once, twice and you jolt, sparks of pleasure shooting through you but it’s not enough, your throbbing cunt clenching down hard over nothing.
“Sergeant, please.” You plead, your heels digging into his back. No matter how hard you try, you can’t get him to move. “Bucky, please.”
You gaze into his eyes, the thin rim of blue barely visible around his lust blown pupils. God, he likes you like this begging and desperate, dripping for him. He slaps you again. Another whimper falling out of your mouth. You let go of the wall and grab his hair and yank hard.
His head jerks back and he slams into you, the sudden burning stretch overwhelming you. Suddenly so full of his thick cock you can’t breathe. His name strangled on your tongue.
“Fuck, you don’t know how good you feel Doll”. His appreciative groan makes you even wetter and fuck he can tell. He doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s slamming back into your velvety heat. “M gonna stay buried in this sweet little cunt all week.” Your head flies back, his hand reaching around in the nick of time to keep it from bouncing off the mirror. He pins your hand above your head as his hips grind into yours. “Gonna fuck you everywhere on the island”
“You’re making a mess of my cock” He says looking down between your bodies, watching his cock disappear into your tight pussy, coated with your slick with each thrust.
He whispers more filthy things in your ear, the mirror fogging as he tells you all the ways he’s going to take on the beach, the surrounding forest. You’re not going anywhere until he’s satisfied. The fast, merciless thrusts have you keening louder and louder until he covers your mouth in a hot, sloppy kiss.
You feel every inch enhanced by the smooth ends of his piercing gliding over your fluttering walls, his lips on yours are the only things keeping the entire plane from hearing your sobs. Bucky bites your lower lip gently before soothing it with his tongue. Your own dives into his wet mouth, deepening the kiss as he fucks you.
A knock on the door goes unanswered.
You don’t give a fuck who’s out there, not when you feel this good; you don’t think it can get any better; he changes his angle, pulling you up and metal strikes your soft spongy spot. Pure electricity shoots you through. It’s fast and brutal in its intensity, your toes curl, back painfully arched off the sink.
He swallows your scream, barely muffling the sound. You know they have to hear you, but then he does it again and your eyes roll back. All worries about being quiet are gone when he keeps hitting your sweet spot.
It’s more than you can take.
His metal fingers drop to your clit. “So much, too much, so good fuck I can’t, I can’t.” You mumble into his mouth.
He makes out your frantic pleas, his lips still on yours, and he grins deviously. Oh, you will, doll. He grazes your clit lightly with small circles, waiting until his next thrust, and he pushes his thumb hard over your sensitive bud at the same time his piercing drags over your spot. His muffled good girl pushing you over the edge.
You shatter. An incoherent, shrill moan erupting from you, breaking away from his hold as the orgasm surges through your body. With a dull roar in your ears, you see stars. Purples and reds blooming behind your eyelids, sobs, and moans wracking through as the coil unravels. His large hands hold you steady, letting him fuck you harder.
Sweat clings to your body, the front of your dress drenched in it, your thighs burning and trembling around his waist. Tears burn your eyes, mascara dripping down your face, the small space impossibly hot.
Bucky groans, “One more doll.” He laughs when you shake your head. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?”
Bucky plants his hands on the mirror for leverage, grinding deeper in you, fucking you relentlessly until you cum again and again. Pleasure overwhelming you, your nails scratching red trails down his chest.
You clench down again, riding through another orgasm, his pace falters as he feels his own climax building. His hips snapping erratically in you until he drops his head with a grunt. “So fucking tight, pussy was made for me.”
“C’mon Bucky, fill me up, god I want it” you moan, biting down on his shoulder, letting him use your body he spills inside of you. “Yes, fuck.”
He rests his forehead on yours, his softening cock falling out of your spasming cunt. “Love you,” you giggle.
Bucky smiles at you, reaching over to grab a handful of paper towels. “Love you too.”
You point at his cock, “I think I love him more though.”
His face drops, making you laugh, reminding you how much you love these moments after he wrecks your body. He playfully grumbles as he wets up the towels with warm water and cleans up the mess between your thighs.
You fan yourself off with your hand, wiping off his forehead with the bottom of your dress. You rest your back on the cool mirror, the sweat drying, you bring your knees up to give him enough space to get dressed.
Another knock on the door. Persistent banging while you adjust the straps on your dress.
You look at him and he shrugs, his brow raised defiantly, pocketing your panties.
He opens the latch, smiling smugly at the flight attendant. She looks past him and stares at you in wonder. You gaze back, eyes dazed, looking thoroughly loved and fucked. The smell of sex drifting out of the small bathroom.
“Ma’am” He asserts over her indignant spluttering for the both of you to return to your seats. He takes your hand and pushes past her, you stumble behind him on shaky legs when you lose your balance, he sweeps you into his arms. Bucky places you into your seat, reclining it for you.
Snagging a bottle off a passing tray, he helps you take a drink of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat.
He looks out your window, then at his watch. You yawn, lids drifting shut. “I’m not tired, doll.” His tone has your eyes snapping open.
Placing a kiss on your lips, he rubs his nose along your throat, humming quietly. “We land in five hours”. He tosses the thin airplane blanket over you. His warm hand slipping between your legs. “Let’s play a little game doll.”
He grabs your chin with his metal fingers gazing into your eyes. “Make a sound and I stop.” Oh fuck. He pulls your bottom lip down, leaning closer, his warm breath brushing over your skin. “Be quiet and you get to cum.”
“But if you make a sound, you have to do whatever I want all week long.”
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could you write something about the reader playing/fiddling with bucky’s dog tags?
a/n: no bc I’m literally obsessed w bucky and his dog tags it’s so bad ,, i hope u enjoy !!
bucky is always wearing his dog tags, you like to keep your hands busy
word count: 866
You touched the dog tags, quickly pulling your hand back when you realized what you were doing.
“you can mess with them doll, i don’t mind” he smiled, you looked at him for a second before grabbing them softly, fiddling them in your hands.
“they look good on you” you smiled, looking at him as his ears turned red. He grinned at you, watching the way you ran your fingers over the words on the metal.
“wonder how they’d look on you doll” he mumbled, moving to take them off and place them on you before you could say anything. Bucky felt his heart thumping in his chest, the sight of you wearing his dog tags made his heart face. You were his.
“is this your way of drafting me?” You teased, taking the tags in your hands and messing with them, taking them off and placing them back on bucky.
“you looked really good with them on” he spoke breathless, a smile on his face still. You felt your face heating up as he spoke, shaking your head.
“they look better on you” you spoke, grabbing them and pulling them to get bucky closer to you, your faces inches apart. You smiled before crashing your lips onto his, one hand still firmly grasping the dog tags and the other holding snaking to the back of Buckys neck.
You pulled away with a smile, knees weak and head spinning, bucky let out a breathy laugh, leaning in for another kiss.
After bucky let you mess with his tags the first time there was no stopping you after that. You found yourself fiddling with them constantly, not even noticing some of the times.
The two of you would be laying in bed, talking about your days and making easy conversation. You used to fiddle with the the end of the blanket, now you found yourself closer to bucky as you talked, his dog tags in your hands as you spoke, concentrating on your story as you moved the metal in your hands.
You would be at the grocery store, talking to bucky as you waited in line to pay and you would reach to hold his dog tags, moving them between your fingers as you listened to bucky talk about the soccer game he watched this morning.
It drove Bucky wild. The way you so naturally gravitated towards them, seeking them for comfort and to focus your mind. You would vent to him, not wanting to look him in the eyes and fiddle with the dog tags, reading the words and numbers over and over to ground you.
One time you were stressed beyond belief, crying twice within the hour and even yelling at bucky for trying to help you. He didn’t hold it against you, brining you some water and placing his dog tags on you, giving you a gentle kiss atop your head before leaving the room.
You sniffled, your hand fiddling with the dog tags, a smile forming as you got back to work, concentrating a bit better now that you had something to fidget with.
When you had finished your work a couple hours later you left the little office area, wanting to apologize to bucky and have him cuddle you to sleep. Bucky gave you a bright smile from the couch, patting the seat next to him. You walked over to him quickly, sitting so close to him your thighs touched.
“sorry for yelling at you” you spoke, hands still messing with the dog tags. You took them off and placed them back onto bucky, smiling as they rested on his chest.
“don’t, i understand how stressed you can get doll” he replied sincerely, grabbing your hand and kissing it gently.
“why’d you leave ‘em with me?” you questioned, laying your head on his shoulder as he sat back, finishing the episode he was watching.
“figured they would help you focus” he smiled, eyes focusing on the dog tags that now lay on his chest, jingling softly as he moved to turn the tv off and pick you up.
“they did” you replied, letting Bucky pick you up as your wrapped your arms around his neck, excited to finally sleep after your long day.
“you can always wear them when you need them doll face” you smiled at him softly. Your heart fluttered, you knew how much meaning they had to bucky. Yet here he was, giving you all the liberty in the world to take them from him whenever you pleased.
“thank you buck” you whispered as he set you down softly, the two of you going to brush your teeth and get ready for the night.
As the two of you settled into bed you looked at him with a smile on your face, telling him about what you were working on, dog tags already in your hands.
Bucky loved the way you fiddled with them, he loved how much comfort they brought you. He loved that it was all because they were his. They helped you focus because it was him that helped you focus.
It was bucky that always brought you comfort and helped you through it all.
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summary bucky always softens around his girl.
pairing bucky barnes x reader
a/n have a nice day/night <33 my masterlist
Bucky certainly wasn’t a ray of sunshine around people.
He usually didn’t smile around the team. He would wake up earlier than everyone, train earlier than the rest of the team. He wasn’t the one to talk a lot, just answering questions.
Bucky was cold, he couldn’t control it. It wasn’t easy to feel comfortable around people after what he went through.
You were an exception.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Bucky finally came to your door after a long day, full of training recruits. He let out a breath and knocked on your door with his knuckles.
“Bucky!” you said as you jumped into his arms. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up a bit.
“Did you miss me, baby?” he said and kissed your hair.
“Mmh, yes. How was your day?” you said as you left his embrace, walking him to the bed.
“Eh, ordinary. Missed you so much.” he said and you gave him a look, making him chuckle. You sat on the bed and patted the spot next to you, telling him to sit. Instead, he took you in his lap and layed down, you on the top of him, his hands on your waist and your hands next to the sides of his head.
“How was your day, doll?” he asked, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“It was fine, I did some work and baked cookies.” you said as you started kissing his neck. Bucky hummed at the feeling of your open mouthed kisses.
“Chocolate chip?” he asked, a big smile forming on his face.
“Yes” you chuckled and put your head on his chest. His hands started to draw patterns on waist and arm and he started humming to an old song.
Bucky was longing for peace before he met you and now that you were with him, he wanted to keep you forever. He wanted to wake up next to you everyday. He wanted to sing 40’s songs with you. He wanted to take you out on a date at that fancy restaurant Tony recommended.
He wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you he loved you with the most beautiful words he knew. He wanted to write you songs, letters, poems. He wanted to express his feelings like everyone around him did.
He sighed quietly.
Instead of using his words, he took your face in his hands, caressed your cheeks with his calloused thumbs and gave you a tender kiss. His lips were soft and it made you forget everything else for a few good seconds, there was just you and Bucky.
“I love you too,” you whispered.
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What if Bucky and the reader are in a relationship and he finds out he’s really into being a pleasure dom and wants to try it with the reader? 👀
Pleasure Dom Bucky, yes please 😩 you just know that mf would take such good care of you after a long stressful week. Honestly, this one took me a hot minute to write because I had to do some research for it lmao, I hope it’s okay!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 5.6k
Summary: You have a terribly long week at work so Bucky helps you relax
Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it pls), PleasureDom!Bucky, sub reader, pet names, praise kink, degradation, size kink, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, oral (f receiving), somnophilia (done with consent established previously), daddy kink, the dog tags make an appearance, mention of safe words, overstimulation, lil voyeurism (watching yourselves in a mirror), light humiliation
Minors, do not interact
What had started out as a week with very little in your calendar soon turned into an absolute killer. You weren’t quite sure how your time got filled up so quickly, wall to wall meetings scheduled into your diary, leaving you hardly any time to even breathe. The meetings themselves weren’t even the worst part, the worst was knowing that after your work day had officially ended, you had endless catching up to do for your other projects and then all the planning for the meetings the following day. Your sleep was limited, as was Bucky’s. He hated going to bed without you, tossing and turning in the sheets for hours until you eventually gave in and joined him. As the week went on you found yourself only getting more and more stressed. By Friday you were almost ready to lie in bed and not move all weekend, just hoping Monday wouldn’t bring more of the same torture.
When 5pm on Friday rolled around, Bucky was standing waiting at the door to your study, adamant that your laptop would be switched off and hidden from you all weekend, along with your work mobile. You huffed out a little tired laugh, rubbing your sleepy eyes as you surrendered your gadgets, not even wanting to put up a fight, just glad to see the back of such an awful week. Bucky had let you choose a takeout to order from, keen to get some real food in you before making sure you got a good long rest to combat those dark circles forming under your eyes. Within 20 minutes of finishing dinner, your sleepy eyes became too heavy to hold open. Bucky hated seeing you so worn out, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to bed, thankful that you had changed into your pyjamas before the food had arrived so he wouldn’t have to disturb you too much. His heart melted at the sight of you clinging to his thin cotton pyjama top, craving the comfort his body afforded you even when you were sleeping.
But God, waking up the next morning, he was reminded of exactly how much comfort your body afforded him. Your hair was fanned out on the pillow gently, your face looking so relaxed compared to how it had been all week, long eyelashes casting shadows on your cheeks in the early morning sunlight. Your little snores were still deep but fuck, the sight of you in only his shirt and a thin pair of panties had him harder than he could’ve believed possible without being touched. Suddenly, the room felt stiflingly hot, his whole body itching to touch you, to make you forget all about that terrible week, fucking all thoughts from your head until you couldn’t think of anything never mind work. He put it down to the fact that he had hardly so much as kissed you goodnight all week, his body going into overdrive from the pent up longing and frustration.
He couldn’t help how he noticed everything about your body this morning, the way your nipples pebbled quickly when he slipped his cool metal hand under your shirt to gently grab at your breasts, doing his very best to contain his satisfaction at the way you tried to lean into his touch. He also didn’t miss how your body responded when he ran one flesh finger over your clothed core, a little groan falling from your parted lips when he added a little extra pressure to your clit. He loved how your body was just so intoxicating, always ready to take him. After a few more teasing glides across your core he pulled your panties to the side, finding your body was reacting to him nicely, wetness beginning to drip from your needy hole. Without thinking, he shuffled down the bed, his tongue poked out, lapping gently at the sweet nectar he had drew from your body. He was so hard now it almost hurt, noticing how even in your sleep, the wetness between your legs only grew. Tiny whimpers fell from your lips as he pressed a metal finger to your entrance, sliding in with ease, tongue lapping gently at your clit.
“So delicious toots, takin’ me so well.” He whispered, knowing you couldn’t hear him but still needing to tell you. Your hands grasped at the sheets, fingers gently bunching them, stirring from your sleep but not quite conscious yet. Your walls were fluttering around the single digit, your high not far away.
“Christ, Bucky.” You whined, eyelids flickering open, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room and make sense of the overwhelming sensations between your legs at the same time. “What are you doing?”
“Havin’ a little breakfast babydoll, jus’ let me take care of you. Wanna make you feel good all day, okay? You aren’t leavin’ this bed.” His voice was so low and seductive, lips latching back onto your clit and his finger curling inside you. You could only nod, whining as the pleasure became too much, keening against his face to ride your orgasm out against his tongue. “Tha’s it toots, gimme more. Good girl.” He encouraged, working his finger even faster, prolonging your high for as long as possible. God he got off on this, your needy moans nearly too much for him to handle. But no matter how much precum leaked from his swollen tip, no matter how badly he needed to cum, so long as you were getting off, his pleasure was only an afterthought to him.
“Well good morning to you too.” You huffed out a little laugh as his finger eventually slid out of you.
“Sorry baby, couldn’t resist.” He smirked, wiping his now glistening chin with the back of his flesh hand.
“No complaints here Buck, it was better waking up to that than an inbox full of emails.” You chuckled, stroking his hair lovingly.
“It had better be, if you’d rather have the emails I’d be offended.” He laughed softly stroking the inside of your thigh with his flesh thumb. “But if you talk about work anymore I’ll have to gag you.” His voice was light and teasing.
“Maybe some other time Buck.” You chuckled, running a hand gently through his messy bed head, your high ebbing pleasantly away as your feet hit the plush carpet of your bedroom.
“Ah ah ah toots, what did I tell you? You aren’t leavin’ this bed today. Gotta make you feel good til you can’t think of anything but me.” He reached out, grabbing your legs to pull you back onto the bed, lips latched onto the soft meat of your thighs, fingernails digging into your flesh gently as he kissed you, a fire burning fiercely behind his eyes once more. God he meant it. You really weren’t going to get a minute’s rest today.
“I was thinkin’ babydoll, how many meetings did you have yesterday?” He asked thoughtfully in between sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin of your thighs
“Eight honey, why?” You managed to choke out.
“Wanna give you that many orgasms.” He stated bluntly as if it was the most normal request in the world. You knew very often Bucky got as much pleasure from making you cum as he got from cumming himself but this suggestion was something else. His lips on your thighs felt amazing, the little dusting of stubble burning as his face drifted up the inside of your legs, his eyes never leaving yours
“There’s no way I can handle eight.” You whispered, losing yourself slightly to the pleasure of his mouth on your sensitive skin.
“Course you can little slut, that’s one down, only seven to go. That’ll keep you nice and busy won’t it? By the time I’m done, work will be the last thing on your mind.” He made it sound so easy, so lovely, like it was absolutely manageable, enjoyable even, but you knew better than to dream of gentle orgasms, soft touches and sweet kisses. You knew that when Bucky got into the mindset that everything he did was entirely for your pleasure, it was all about tearing you orgasms from your trembling body in the quickest succession possible, one barely ending before the next began. This was the first time he had ever suggested such an intense session. His kisses got sloppier, his wet mouth making you groan as it connected with you core once more, panties pushed to the side. Fuck, his tongue felt incredible, broad, firm strokes over the entire length of your dripping sex. You pressed your lips together to stifle your noises, your hands sinking into the soft, dark hair on Bucky’s head to pull his face closer to where you needed him most.
“If you’re holdin’ those pretty noises back toots, I’ll add another orgasm on as punishment.” He quipped, mouth creating a seal around your clit before sucking hard to pull the filthiest moan from you he had ever heard. He was in his element, hard and needy and damn near ready to hump the bed beneath him for some relief but determined to absolutely wreck you before he could even think of his own pleasure. Without saying much more, he slid two metal fingers into you, admiring how they slipped in with so little resistance.
“That’s it, oh God you take me so well. Know exactly what your body needs baby, need to be fucked like a whore don’t ya? Gonna make sure you can’t even think straight by the time I’m done with ya.” He was almost growling in between little kitten licks to your clit, fingers plunging in and out of you, rubbing your silky walls perfectly.
“Bucky, more, fuck.” You hissed out, grinding your hips against his hand. The vibrations from the little laugh he let out in response felt amazing.
“God doll, you’re not gonna be begging for more by the time I’m done with you. Gonna have you begging me to stop. But since you were a good girl this week, I’m sure I could play nice for now.” He laughed, lips and tongue crashing against your clit, fingers working faster and his eyes trained on your face as he tore another orgasm from your body. You groaned out, rutting against his face, your juices soaking his fingers and tongue as you rode out your high, panting and whimpering deliciously for him.
“Good girl honey, did so well. Want you to ride me now, yeah? Want that little body on top of me. You just gotta use me to make yourself feel good doll, don’t even worry bout makin’ me cum. Want as many of those pretty moans as you can give me before your legs give out.” His filthy plans had you whimpering, knowing that when your legs turned to jelly from too many orgasms, that didn’t mean you’d be stopping. It just meant he would take over. You did as he asked, hopping up onto your knees while Bucky undressed himself, giving his proud, hard cock a few lazy pumps watching you remove your pyjamas. You positioned yourself above him, his metal hand lined his cock up with your soaked, already abused hole. Sinking down onto his length tore groans from both of you, Bucky’s flesh hand gripping your waist to stop himself from pushing you the whole way down too quickly.
“Tightest fuckin’ pussy, you feel so good for daddy. God kitten, this pussy is so hungry isn’t it? Needs me, I can feel it. You need daddy’s cock to make you feel good? Gonna take such good care of you.” He was losing himself in the feeling of your silky walls gripping him, wetter than he could ever remember you being before. But god, you had six more orgasms ahead of you, how on Earth was he gonna make it if you got any wetter? The thick drag of his bare cock inside you was almost more than you could take as you pulled yourself back up his length again, sinking down quickly until he was entirely seated inside you.
“So so big daddy, I can’t.” You wailed, the sloppy sounds coming from your pussy fuelling you to keep going regardless.
“Yes you can angel, doin’ so well for daddy. So tight around me, can hardly move. Nothin’ feels as good as you do. Fuckin’ live to be buried in this little pussy, you know that?” His filthy pants had you rolling your hips faster against him, not really fucking him, more grinding your pelvis against his with his length fully seated inside you. It was such a different sensation to being fucked, it just made you feel endlessly full, the thickness of Bucky’s cock stuffing you, the head nestled deliciously against that sweet spot inside you. Every little grind of your hips had him nudging that spot inside you, making your eyes roll back and your head flop to the side. And Bucky was absolutely obsessed. He couldn’t find it in himself to tear his eyes away from you, not knowing whether he wanted to watch how your breasts jiggled as you moved, watch down at the mess you were making where your bodies were joined or watch the look of sheer pleasure on your face. He loved seeing you take what you needed from him, knowing that he was still in control but letting you use his body to satisfy yourself.
“So deep ‘nside you toots, bet you can feel me in here.” He pressed his metal hand to your lower tummy, the coolness making you gasp. Everything felt like it was too much but the grind alone wasn’t enough to tear your building orgasm from you and of course Bucky knew that.
“Tell me what you need, tell me and I’ll give it to you.” Bucky whispered softly, lips dusting chaste kisses on your shoulders, flesh arm wrapped up your back, helping you move against him.
“Fingers daddy, on my clit.” You pleaded, eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hanging open slightly.
“Magic word toots?” He teased with a little laugh, flesh fingers dancing over your clit torturously.
“Metal ones daddy, please.” Your whine would have been mortifying under any other circumstances but right now, you didn’t care. Bucky raised an eyebrow at your little request, secretly thrilled that you got so much pleasure from his metal digits.
“Filthy girl.” He whispered, replacing his flesh hand with his metal one, rubbing between your bodies in harsh circles. The cool fingers felt even better, the ridges in the unrelenting metal only added to the sensations threatening to consume your body. It didn’t take long for you to feel yourself tightening, Bucky’s movements never even faltering as you hit your peak.
“That’s it, cum for me, good girl, hump Daddy’s big cock. Know how much you need this, know you love daddy fillin’ you up.” His eyes were completely trained on your face, loving how it screwed up in response to the words he mumbled in the quiet, early morning air. Your gasps didn’t stop as your high started to subside, mainly because his fingers didn’t stop. You tried your best to pull away, becoming far too sensitive very quickly but Bucky’s flesh hand on your hip held you in place.
“Want another one out of you before I let you move.” He whispered, fingers only speeding up against your overstimulated bundle of nerves.
“Can’t take it daddy, it’s too much!” You sobbed, face buried into the crook of his neck as your body twitched around him, another peak fast approaching. You knew you could’ve said your safe word if you needed to but deep down you knew you could handle it.
“I know you want it angel, c’mon, stop holdin’ back.” He growled, rubbing you even faster, dragging you screaming into yet another orgasm. You couldn’t help but bite down on his flesh shoulder as you came, your body shuddering, wet nectar dripping out of you and down over his balls.
“Oh fuck, soakin’ me, you know that? Pussy is drippin’ everywhere. Such a wet little slut for daddy, aren’t ya cupcake? Such a good girl.” Bucky’s praise only made your walls flutter even more, pulling a growl from his throat. Before you even got a chance to register what was going on, Bucky had you flipped over, ass in the air, face down on the bed with his cock still inside you.
“Can’t wait anymore toots, need this.” He grunted, fucking into you recklessly. You could’ve screamed from the overstimulation, body trembling, walls still trying to milk Bucky’s thick cock. Again, your last orgasm didn’t even get a chance to ebb away before you were being worked towards another one. Your back arched into the bed of its own accord, letting Bucky fuck deeper into you. Your whimpers mingled with Bucky’s grunts, sounds of skin slapping on skin filling the house.
“Pussy’s still clenchin’ me so tight, you’ve no idea how good you make me feel. Body’s always so ready for me.” Bucky was almost growling, his own need almost entirely taking over, eager to cum so he could get back to focusing on giving you as much pleasure as you could handle.
“Thank daddy for fuckin’ you. Thank me for givin’ you my cock raw like this.” He groaned, fingers drifting between your thighs to play with your swollen bud once more.
God, this was humiliating and you were loving every single second.
“Thank you daddy! Love your cock so much, think about nothing else. Love how you fuck me, love how big it feels, love your cum, just need more daddy please.” Your words were only broken by little gasps, Bucky fucking into you harder than you even thought possible.
“Tha’s it, God yes, takin’ me like a good girl, my best girl. Little pussy so hungry for daddy’s cum. That never changes, does it honey? Should just keep you plugged and full of me all the time. Only thing that could keep your needy cunt happy, isn’t it? Just a little cum whore. Gonna give you a load now baby, okay? Keep that little face pressed to the bed and ass up, want it all drippin’ as deep ‘nside you as it can get. Don’t want a single drop spillin’.” Sometimes you wonder where Bucky possibly learned to talk so dirty but right now you didn’t care, teetering on the brink of a fifth orgasm as you lowered yourself the way he wanted, his cock nudging your cervix in this new position.
“So deep daddy,” you whimpered, muffled slightly by the thick duvet as he pounded into you. His fingers rolling perfectly against your clit was enough to tear you apart, your body shaking, fingers squeezing the sheets as you rode out the electric feeling shooting the whole way through your body. That was all it took to drag Bucky over the edge too, not able to hold back with how your walls were tightening around him, milking every drop of cum into your body.
“So tight toots, can’t even move.” He groaned, stilling his movements to stay pressed right at the deepest point inside you. The warm feeling of his cum exploding into you was almost more than you could handle, knowing every drop had to stay there to keep Bucky happy. His fingers didn’t stop moving against your clit though, tearing as many aftershocks from your over worked body as you could muster.
“Bet there’s so much cum in you now.” He whispered proudly, kissing down your spine despite the thin sheen of sweat, slowly pulling out and humming appreciatively when there wasn’t even the slightest indication of the mess he had made inside you. You felt absolutely boneless, knowing you were over the half way mark but still nowhere near finished yet.
“Three left honey, how ya feeling?” He cooed softly, taking a second to stroke your hair and dote on you. His cock hadn’t softened at all but it rarely ever did after only cumming once during such an intense session.
“Feel good Buck, sensitive.” You whispered, flopping onto the bed with your eyes closed, sucking in deep breaths to steady yourself.
“Think you can take some more for me?” He asked quietly, placing tiny kisses to your shoulders and neck. You could do nothing but hum contentedly, letting him give you as much affection as he wanted.
“Need you to use your words sweetheart. Didn’t make you, dumb already, did I?” He chuckled, making you open your eyes to see that dashing smile
“Want more daddy, I can take it.” You nodded gently, noticing how his smile only widened at your eagerness.
“I’m so in love with you, ya know that?” He beamed, giving you a gentle kiss that was all teeth and tight lips, his smile still so evident on his face. “Won’t mind though if you need to stop. Want you to enjoy this babydoll.”
“No Buck, I can keep going. But we can cuddle afterwards, yeah?” You asked, placing a little tired kiss to his knuckles of his flesh hand.
“Oh honey, when we’re done here, we can do whatever you like. This weekend’s about you, jus’ wanna make you feel good.” He agreed, heart aching at the sight of you looking so beautifully fucked out and still asking him for more.
“Thank you daddy.” You smiled lazily, knowing it would get him right back in the mood to fuck you relentlessly through the final three.
Bucky groaned hearing the title fall from your lips again when he was least expecting it, cock bobbing deliciously in agreement.
“Fuck princess, you’re gonna be the death of me you know that?” He laughed, metal hand falling to grip his aching cock. “Jus’ you lie there angel, lemme do the work this time.” You sure weren’t going to argue, pressing your head back on the soft pillows as Bucky positioned you how he wanted you, slotting neatly between your spread thighs. Despite how kinky Bucky was, missionary was still one of his all time favourite positions. It was simple, comfortable, uncomplicated and he loved being able to see your face contort as he takes you apart, not to mention the perfect bounce of your tits when he slams into you. Bucky lined up with your soaked pussy, taking the time to make sure none of his seed from the last round had spilled from your core. Once he was satisfied that it was only your own juices that were coating your thighs, he pressed in, revelling in the gasp you let out.
“So warm and wet babydoll.” He hissed, head thrown back as he set a decent pace, thrusting in and out with his metal hand pressed to your lower tummy. “Swear I can feel myself in here, just so deep ‘nside you, aren’t I?” You couldn’t really believe how your body was still craving him, still needing more even though you were so fucked out already. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to reply, almost every coherent thought having been fucked from your head. The soft clinking of metal had you opening your eyes. But when did you close them? You had no idea, and far less did you care upon seeing Bucky hovering on top of you, his dog tags swinging in front of your face. Somewhere deep inside your brain you registered that he must’ve pulled them from the nightstand when your eyes had been shut but there was something about them that just made the sex that little bit better. He knew how much you loved them too, smirking down at you as he continued his leisurely thrusts.
“Like what you see?” His voice was deep and seductive, close to only being a low rumble. His abs rippled with every push into your tight heat, little grunts slipping past his lips occasionally, a light flush on his cheeks from arousal. What was there to not like about Bucky Barnes? You could only nod, trying to press your hips closer to his pelvis, wanting to pull him deeper than even should have been possible.
“God, you can’t get enough can you? My cock that addictive honey?” He teased, flesh fingers toying with your clit. You cried out quietly at the feeling, not understanding how you could possibly still need more. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you reached up, taking those jingling dog tags in your mouth, lips wrapping neatly around the chain. Bucky thought once more that he might cum then and there, just at the sight of your little pretty mouth enveloping his tags, the metallic taste covering your tongue.
“Need your slutty mouth filled too baby? Should’ve said somethin’, coulda had my fingers ‘nstead. But maybe you couldn’t tell me? Can’t get any words out now, can you? Daddy’s cock knocked all thoughts out of that little head, hm? That’s okay angel, daddy doesn’t need you to think, jus’ need you to cum. Think you can do that for me?” Your legs were shaking but you nodded you head regardless. As Bucky had been talking, he had dialled everything up a notch, fucking you faster, rubbing you in tighter circles, everything just felt incredible, your orgasm so close once more.
“Ah, daddy, please.” You pleaded, absolutely no idea what you were even pleading for anymore other than release. Bucky chuckled lowly from somewhere deep in his chest before giving you what you had begged for, pressing a little harder on your clit, rubbing in the same tights circles, dragging you through a painfully intense orgasm. Your teeth bit down on the hard metal in your mouth, trying to stifle the screams and whines that fell from you as every single vein in your body throbbed, desire washing through you violently. Bucky was completely and utterly obsessed with you, coaching you through your high with the same filthy grunts and promises that you had learned to expect from him.
As your high subsided, Bucky didn’t slow, if anything he just fucked you faster, not chasing his own release yet but loving how you looked like you had been fucked absolutely senseless, eyes rolling back, head crooked to the side, fingernails digging into his flesh, dog tags still in your mouth.
“You’re a fuckin’ picture like this doll, so beautiful for me. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” His thrusts had your tits bouncing back and forth, jiggling even more as you squirmed, trying to move away from him given how painfully overstimulated you were becoming. You screamed and yelled as his fingers picked up speed, slipping around from the insane amount of slick that had dripped from your hole.
“Come on little whore, cum for daddy, give it to me. Silly little slut can’t do anything but cum, can you? So fuckin’ good at it, no thoughts left in that pretty head of yours, daddy fucked them all out didn’t he? Love seein’ you like this, greedy pussy takin’ everything I give it. You’re an angel, you know that? My angel. Body’s always so ready for me.” Bucky’s voice was deep, strangled and needy, working you as fast as he could. Your legs couldn’t hold still as he pounded you, metal hand still pressing on your tummy so you could feel his cock even deeper inside you. It was all too fucking much, that ball of need inside you exploding once more making you scream, thrashing around under his huge body. Your rhythmic squeezing had him groaning, screwing his face up, unable to hide how good it felt.
“Last one princess, you ready?” Bucky asked softly, pulling out to give you a second. Christ, you looked wrecked but in the best way possible. His dog tags slipped from your mouth, spit trailing down your chin that you wiped away with the back of your hand.
“You sure you can take another? Need a colour toots.” Bucky probed gently, stroking your cheek lovingly, pushing your hair away from your sweaty face.
“Green daddy, just one more. I can take it.” You nodded weakly, fawning over the little gentle kiss Bucky pressed to your forehead.
“That’s my good girl.” He soothed. “I’ll make it quick, promise.” With that he hopped off the bed. You couldn’t really find it in yourself to care about why he had got up, taking the time to catch your breath and steady yourself but when he came back empty handed, you couldn’t help but be a little confused.
“Gonna move you toots,” he hummed quietly, shifting you onto your hands and knees at the side of the bed and that’s when you realised what he had been doing. Bucky had pulled one of the wardrobe doors open, specifically the door with the full length mirror, leaving it at an angle so you could see yourself from where you sat on the bed.
“Want you to watch yourself, see how pretty you look when you cum for me.” He groaned, harder than he could ever remember being in his life before. You whimpered even just at the thought, letting him slip inside you then pull your back flush to his chest. His whole body felt like it was surrounding you, probably because it was. His firm chest felt so comforting against you, both of his arms supporting your bare frame, casing you in against him. He pulled your hair out of the way, making sure he was able to kiss your neck and shoulders before beginning to piston his hips, fucking into you at a punishing pace. You were so glad he was holding you up, knowing if he took his arms away, you would be left to crumple onto the sheets. Your moans were so lewd you surprised yourself at how keen you were to just keep taking his cock. You knew you would feel empty without him inside you after such a long session but the emptiness might even be a blessing after this insane amount of stimulation.
“Look at yourself baby, you just came seven times for me and you’re still keen to go again. Still gonna give me ‘nother one. Cause you’re the best girl, aren’t you? So so good for daddy. Jus’ lettin’ me take and take from your body. You feel that mess sweetheart? You’re fuckin’ soaked right down to your knees, toots. All my cum from earlier drippin’ out of you. Don’t worry, got ‘nother nice big load to fill you with. Gotta give my best girl what she needs.” You hadn’t even noticed the sticky wetness between your thighs, the change in position letting it all seep out of you. You whined, high and needy as his fingers ghosted through the wetness, landing on your clit. His movements were smooth and methodical, rubbing you at the exact pace he knew you liked. He didn’t want to drag this out any more and he wasn’t even sure that he could last any longer.
“Cum for me babydoll, one last time. That’s it, good girl, hump daddy’s fingers. Excellent baby, doin’ so well for me, ‘m so proud of you, you know that? So so proud.” You felt your body clench harder than you had even thought possible, a strangled cry being torn from Bucky’s throat, his seed spilling so deep inside you.
“Ah, holy shit, can’t stop cummin’.” He panted against your neck, your head flung back onto his shoulder as the most intense high of your life took over. Your whole body was alight with pleasure and yet everything still felt so intimate in this position. Your bodies just felt connected in a way that you couldn’t even describe. Maybe you were just delirious with pleasure but it didn’t even really matter, chants of Bucky’s name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your pussy throbbed, aching and abused but not relenting in the slightest, if anything it only clenched harder around Bucky, milking every single drop of cum from him.
You practically collapsed onto the bed together, chests heaving, both spent and sweaty from the most exhausting morning of you life.
“Christ.” You whispered with a little content laugh, words not even connecting in your brain to form a coherent sentence.
“I agree.” Bucky laughed softly, pulling you practically on top of him, needing to feel you close and take care of you. “How ya feelin’?” He asked quietly, kissing your forehead and playing with your hair, being as delicate with you as possible.
“ ‘m good.” You hummed, giving him a little nod, taking in all the adoration he was offering.
“How bout a little nap, hm? You’re exhausted sweet pea. Then I’ll make us some lunch, yeah?” Bucky suggested, losing his mind when you snuggled yourself even closer to his body. You could only nod and give him a little smile, his fingers carding through your hair ever so gently. The hammering in Bucky’s chest was returning to a more natural thud, comforting you even more, your eyes closing of their own accord.
“My best girl.” He whispered, pressing more gentle kisses to your fragile body, little compliments and praises breaking the silence, lulling you into the best sleep of your life.
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Three Whole Days
Summary: You should have known better than to leave Bucky alone. He’s had three whole days to think of what he’s going to do when you get back.
Pairing: Beefy!Biker Bucky x Reader
Warning: Smut, Minors DNI, Oral (M and F receiving), slight exhibition kink, public sex, vibe, handcuffs, orgasm denial, praise kink,, dom/sub, overstimulation, grumpy Bucky.
A/N: fair warning its a little tame. Not Requested. Beta’d by the wonderful @sweeterthanthis, @whisperlullaby and @navybrat817 but all mistakes are my own.
Do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post any parts of my stories. Comments, likes and reblogs are wonderful.
Check out my Masterlist and Taglist! Requests are closed
“Alright ladies, let’s gather around and have a moment of silence.”
You groan, more of whine really, embarrassment seeping through your pores, your cheeks heated when your best friend motions for the group to surround you. “Will you shut the fuck up?” you hiss, hiding your face from the onlookers in the too crowded airport.
Marcie takes a deep, overly dramatic breath in and exhales, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to celebrate the memory of a tight, wet ass pussy that is going to be taken from the world too damn soon-ow,” her speech cut off when you jab her in her stomach.
“Quit it and get away from me,” you huff with a tinge of concealed laughter, not wanting to encourage them more. Adjusting your heavy bag over your shoulder, you embrace Marcie with one arm, giving her a squeeze, smiling when you feel your friends envelop you in a group hug. “This was fun and I can’t wait to do it again.”
As you walk through the gates, your friends break away from the small group with goodbyes, selfies, and more hugs. The impromptu girls’ trip was an incredible experience and you loved every moment.
Bucky on the other hand.
Yeah, he was not happy. Not happy with you at all. He made it very clear the night you left for the airport. You hope that he used the past three days to calm down.
Taking your phone out of your back pocket, you turn it on for the first time in three days. The rapid-fire notifications fill the screen, the continuous pings drawing Marcie’s attention. “God damn, your pussy really is going to die,” she laughs, looking at the flood of messages.
You shrug, keeping a grip on your bag, “Bucky just likes to talk,” you retort defensively. “He’s chatty.”
“I’ve never heard him say more than five words at time,” Marcie gives you a disbelieving look out of the side of her eye, “I hope you stretched.”
Snorting, you nudge her with your hip, rolling your eyes as you navigate your way to the entrance. Now you’ll never admit it but she’s right, and you really wished you had thought to limber up before you got off the plane. Your phone continues to light up with message after message. Scrolling through your screen, you can pinpoint the exact moment he began to lose his shit.
Five hours into your trip.
“Be safe” turned to “I miss you” to “when the fuck are you getting back” to “I’m horny.”
Sweet messages of “I love you” and “have fun” mixed in with “I’m going to fuck your brains out” and “tell my pussy I miss her.”
You’re staring at the dick pic he sent six hours into your trip, your panties dampening when you see the next message is a video and you want to play it so bad, part of you not even caring that you’re in public. Damn, he’s rubbing off you; at this rate, you’re going to be worse than he is. You're almost at the exit when you notice a crowd of employees huddled together whispering loudly.
“You need to ask him to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere near him. I’m not trying to die today, I have stuff to do tomorrow, you go ask him to leave.”
“How long is he going to just stand there?”
“I tried to ask but he glared at me.” A slight pause. “It was sexy.”
“What! He’s hot. I want him to glare at me like that while he makes me-”
You and Marcie exchange glances, her shoulders shaking as she covers her mouth with her hand. Sighing, you walk around the group and your steps falter, your pulse kicking up.
Bucky is frowning at his gloved hands, the black leather crunching with each clench of his fist. Your heart thumps in your chest. While you had fun, you really missed him. You swallow thickly, clearing your throat. He slowly lifts his head, tilting it to the side.
He’s jaw dropping gorgeous and your knees nearly buckle. You missed him more than you ever imagined.
His chestnut hair is hidden beneath his navy baseball hat. A hint of charcoal grey peeks out from his partially unzipped black leather jacket. Bucky wordlessly glares at you. He is livid, you can feel it rolling off of him in hazy waves.
He gestures for you to come towards him with his long index finger, his other hand shoved into his front pocket, one long leg crossed in front of the other, an untied boot tapping on the stained carpet. Oh, he’s very angry.
You freeze, drowning in the furious glint of his blue eyes. When you hesitate, taking a step back, he grins. You feel your clit twitch, your already damp panties soaked when he runs his tongue across his pearly white teeth. His eyes caress your face moving slowly all the way down to your feet, undressing you, stripping you bare in the middle of the airport. The heat of his piercing gaze searing you when his eyes snap back up to your face, his grin widening. Predatory, dark, and aimed directly at you.
Marcie whistles, “You are in trouble,” she leans over, putting her head on your shoulder, “Welp, I’m going to miss you, and, if you somehow survive, call me.”
She’s gone, saying hi to Bucky on her way out of the revolving doors. He doesn’t respond, perfectly still, except for his combat boot, the slow measured taps making you nervous the closer you get to him. He pushes away from the desk, much to the relief of the employee’s huddled several feet away.
He saunters over to you, leaning down until the rim of his hat touches your forehead. Walking you back into something hard, a counter judging by the sharp edge pressing into the middle of your back. Oceanic blue eyes capture your own wide ones and your breath stalls. Thoughts empty out of your head when his grin morphs into a smirk, slow and devious. Retribution. Reckoning. Punishment.
“Hi baby,” The words squeaked out, high pitched and wobbly. You place your hands on his chest, meekly glancing up at him through your eyelashes.
Good, he thinks, you should be worried.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I was going to do to you when you got back,” He brings his mouth over yours, the brim of his cap moving softly over your skin.
“I hope it was worth it,” His pink lips slotting over yours with each word, his deep timbre rumbling through you.
“Bucky, baby, it was only three days,” you protest, unable to stop your hands from sliding under his jacket and around his broad back. He’s so warm under there, his cologne, light cedar drifting off of him and sinking onto your skin, it's so hard to breathe with him so close.
Bucky’s brow quirks, those blue eyes widen just a little. Bucky mouths “three days” and you know you fucked up even more. Now Bucky is angry and offended.
“Only three days,” he hums, plucking your bag off your shoulder and onto his own. Bucky reaches into his pocket, digging around for something. The look in his eyes becomes more deviant by the second.
You can tell the second he finds it because those blues darken, he leans a little closer, his elbow resting on the counter, his other hand dipping to your waist, his fingers trailing under the waistband of your skirt.
You hiss out his name, a warning that makes his grin widen. You look around, the crowds of people milling around you, no one noticing the oh so casual scene of a man talking to his woman. To anyone else, it looks sweet, maybe two lovers saying goodbye. Anything but Bucky subtly shifting his large body so that he can slip his hand down your skirt, something cold and firm placed between your folds, nestled right along your clit.
He takes a step back, straightening to his full height, “You better remember those words later gorgeous.”
It’s a threat and a promise all rolled into one, sealed with a light kiss on your lips.
Wrapping his arm around your waist, he leads you out into the bright sunny day. Straight to his bike parked illegally in the loading zone. An officer is standing to the side, writing on a little yellow pad when Bucky pushes past him to grab your helmet. He looks at your burly man and back at his pad, ripping up the half-written ticket with a mumbled apology.
Bucky places it on your head, tightening the strap below your chin, using it to tug you flush against his body. Even through the layers between your bodies, you can feel how hard he is, how big. He palms your ass, bringing you even closer. Your mind racing with the possibilities, images of him fucking you over the kitchen counter, against the shower wall, on the front porch swing.
“Three days,” he sighs, bringing your face up, his lips slotting over yours, unhurried, tasting you, inhaling you, his wet tongue dipping into your open mouth with a low groan that you feel more than hear. “I love you.”
He breaks away when you start to wrap your arms around his neck. His thumb swipes over your swollen bottom lip, “Three fucking days without you. Do you have any idea of the power you have over me, gorgeous?”
He turns, straddling his bike in one smooth motion, revving the engine. You jump on behind him, wrapping your arms around his firm stomach, resting your head on his back. “You’re about to learn, gorgeous,” The words barely leave his lips before you feel the vibrations on your clit, he shakes his left hand, a flash of little black remote. Oh fuck, fuck me.
The ride home is a blur, he keeps bringing you to the edge, only to take your impending orgasm away over and over. Fuck, he knows your body too well, even with his focus on the road he can tell when your close, paying attention to your needy gasps swept into his ear by the wind, your body rigid around him.
By the time he pulls into the garage and turns off the engine, you have tears pricking at your eyes and you need to cum, your clit throbbing and aching for release. You hobble off and take a step back. “I love you so much and I missed you Bucky,” you exclaim, ready to beg him.
He grunts in response, tossing his helmet onto the floor with a loud clatter. You take a step back, clasping your hands behind your back. “Bucky, remember you told me to turn off my-.” Your words taper off in a squeal when he stomps towards you. He glowers at you, a slight pout forming on his pink lips.
He lifts you on the shiny, cold trunk of his classic car, bending your knees, his large hands moving down the insides of your thighs. Biting your bottom lip, you hold your breath when he taps his index finger over your damp panties, pushing the little bullet right over your clit. “You know I had a lot of time to think when you up and left me alone in our house.”
“I didn’t leav-ah, fuck,” Bucky turns the vibrator on effectively cutting you off with a flick of his thumb. Your moans, needy and dragged out with each turn of the dial until you’re writhing on the back of his car, your slick dripping on the painted exterior.
He leaves you like that, helpless and shamelessly pleading for more, legs splayed open, hips rolling, both hands clutching your breasts as you crest higher and higher.
Bucky smiles in your direction, unzipping his jacket, he lays it across the seat of his bike. He toes his boots off, placing them by the door. The sultry sounds coming from you are what his dreams are made of. Bucky was restless when you were gone and now that you’re back where you belong, with him, he can finally breathe again.
He stretches his arms over his head, twisting his back. He pads back to you, standing between your legs. Gazing down at your glassy eyes, the corner of his mouth lifts. He missed you, missed how you look when you cum for him. He turns it up one more notch and groans through your release, entranced as you gush over his car. His stiff cock leaking in his jeans, he pulls you up for a wet, sloppy kiss.
Breaking away, he pants in your mouth. “Gorgeous, get inside. Now.”
You slide off the trunk, almost falling to your knees, the aftershocks of your orgasm sparking with each rub of your thighs. “Bucky, please-,”
He crosses his arms and exhales. “Here or inside, your pick.”
It takes everything you have, but you manage to jog inside. Passing the kitchen, you skid to a stop when you see a platter of snacks along with a few bottles of water. Hearing a low whistle, you look over your shoulder and back to the table. Looking at the vast array on your table, you know you’re in for a long night. You take off again, wishing you had stretched now.
Bucky waits until he hears your footsteps, he looks around the garage waiting until the door closes. Stepping over to his prized toolbox, he checks the underside where he taped the ring. Tracing the outline with his finger, he puts the box back down and turns to the house.
Bucky sings your name, listening carefully as he moves through the house. He pauses on the bottom step when he hears a creak in the floorboard above his head. Bedroom. "That’s my girl," he thinks.
His shirt tossed over the railing, pants on the top stair. By the time he reaches the second floor, his cock is fisted in his hand.
Pushing open the door, he grins when he sees you. Naked and ready for him on the bed. He paces back and forth in front of you, his hand twisting around his thick shaft, “You left me ,” he accuses.
“Bucky you paid for my tick-”
Your protests cut off with a pointed looked. “Abandoned me,” he finishes, his slight pout making you smile, your eyes focused on his cock, you want it so bad, you’re not even pretending to listen anymore.
Bucky moves his cock to the left, laughing when your gaze follows it back and forth. “Now you’re going to make it up to me,”
You crawl over the bed, opening your mouth, “Yes, Bucky, let me show you how sorry I am.”
“No, I need to taste your sweet little pussy,” he pushes you back on the bed, taking advantage of your body bouncing back, he slides his hands under your hips and brings you to his face with a growl.
And his tongue attacks your clit. It's the only way you can describe what his tongue is doing to you; rough long licks through your folds, followed by light circles that make you arch into his mouth.
It’s vulgar, sloppy, and all he's been thinking about since you left him. He dips down to your entrance and his thick tongue glides against your walls, fucking you while his finger presses down on your bud, pushing back and forth, rolling it under his calloused pad.
“God, Bucky ple-oh shit, oh fuck,” you twist, pulling the sheets in a desperate attempt to get away.
Bucky feels you trying to run from him and he lets you go. Gasping, you stare down at him, backing up on the bed, you lean on your elbow, covering your mound with your other hand. “I need a minute,” you rasp out, your cunt pulsating, matching your racing heart..
Bucky cocks his head back, his pink tongue dragging across his bottom lip. A relaxed smirk creeps on his face and your stomach drops. He’s never let you go before, always insisting you can take it. You fucked up again and he confirms it, the smug bastard.
“So you deny me my pussy for three days, deny me your presence and love,” he says, voice deepening to a low growl, “and now you’re not letting me enjoy my desert.”
“I- no, “ you exclaim, “wait, I’m sorry,” you remove your hand, spreading your thighs.
He barks out a short laugh, his smile dropping and you wonder if you should try to suck his cock again. Bucky pushes himself up and walks over to the dresser. He opens the first draw, pulling out a small black box. He opens it, shuffling through the various new toys he bought you, pulling out a set of pink fur-lined handcuffs.
“Where did you get those?” you question, scooting back towards the headboard.
Bucky ignores your question, “Good girl,” he grins as you unknowingly move into place, “too bad it’s too late for that.”
You furrow your brows, helplessly watching Bucky stalk over to the bed. You continue to move back until you can’t go any further. He crawls over the rumpled sheets, his large body getting closer until his lips are touching yours, “I’m going to enjoy this, gorgeous.”
He straddles you, his weight pinning you down while his thick, long cock rests on your belly, your mouth watering at the sight of his swollen, red tip. He takes advantage of the distraction to grab your wrist, cuffing it to the headboard. You look up, seconds before he takes your other wrist, the soft clanking echoes in your ears as he secured it around your wrist.
You glance between your handcuffed wrists and his deep blue eyes, you can see how badly he wants you, his desire making your pussy impossibly wetter.
He drops his head, his lips grazing your jaw, “good girl,” he says, “ I missed you”, he kisses down your neck, nipping the skin below your ear, “ thought about you every single day.”
He moves up on his knees, his cock bobbing in your face. Before he can speak again, your lips are wrapped around his tip, a hot salty bead of precum melting over your tongue as you slide down his shaft. “Fuck me,” he groans. He grabs the back of your head, pushing you down even more until your nose touches his pelvis, “that’s it, gorgeous, you can take it.”
Inhaling through your nose, you let him fuck your face, drool leaking out the sides of your mouth, his heavy weight filling your mouth. His groans shooting straight to your heart, you love that you can bring your big muscular man to his knees. He tastes so good, you could hold him in your mouth for hours. Bucky listens to you gag, telling you how good you’re doing, and you suck harder, wanting to please him.
And you are, a little too well, Bucky’s eyes fly open when he feels his balls tighten. “No, fuck, too good, gorgeous, ah no stop, stop” he grunts, pulling out of your mouth with a wet plop, chuckling at your whine, “Sorry, doll, but I’m only cumming in your pussy tonight.”
He wipes the drool off your chin, placing a deep kiss on your lips, “But I’m not coming until you cum first. In fact, I want three from you, ” he mutters glancing down your body.
“Wait, I don’t think I can-” you blurt out, yanking your hands down.
Bucky rolls his eyes at you, a playful smirk on his features, “I wasn't talking to you, gorgeous, I was talking to her.”
He drops between your thighs, pushing them apart with his broad shoulders, spreading your folds, “I know you didn’t want to leave me, huh pretty girl?” He lovingly breathes into your glistening cunt, watching you clench down, “I know, you’re going to come all over my tongue aren't you? ” he coos.
He locks eyes with you, flattening his tongue, and he drags it through up from your slit to your aching bud, his eyes daring you to look away. The tip of tongue flickering over your clit slowly, so slow you could cry, the short waves of warm sensations making you throb and ache, his heavy arm keeping you in place.
He dives back in, his nose bumping your clit when his tongue curls along your walls - hot wet, his muffled groans louder than your own sobs. He's utterly ruthless, sending shocks of pleasure through you, his ego growing with each mewl and cry.
“Look at me,” he demands when he feels your orgasm approaching, waiting until you meet his dazed blue eyes, “cum now”. He pulls your bud into his mouth, and fuck, you don’t even recognize the sound that leaves your mouth. Pleasure burns through you, the coil so tight it bursts into a million pieces, leaving you wrecked and quivering under him.
You’re still high on your first climax when he pushes your hips up. Folding your body in half, his hand enclosing over your throat, he squeezes with every suck on your tender bud. It hits you hard, pushing you higher and higher until you can only whimper his name. Every last nerve burning as you cum again, sharp and fierce, your breath hissing though your gritted teeth as your orgasm wraps around you.
“Two.” He’s arrogant, reveling in your pleasure, not that you can hear over the roaring in your ears.
He leans back on his haunches, pulling your hips, your back floating off the bed, his strong hands holding you as if you weighed nothing. His cock, hot and thick, sits at your entrance. You both watch as he sinks into your cunt, the thick vein on the underside of his cock rubbing against your velvety walls, “Oh god,” you cry out, eyes rolling back.
“Oh no, it's only me here gorgeous, “ he remarks proudly, “Who's making you feel this good?”
“You, Bucky, only you,” your hoarse cries echoing across the room.
Bucky is mesmerized by your cunt swallowing him, your cream coating his cock with each stroke. He controls the pace, but fuck you’re controlling him. You’re so tight around his length, exhilarating pleasure taking over. He hates pulling out of your perfect pussy, but loves how you clench down when he thrusts back in.
Your moans make him want more, he wants you to shatter one more time, he won't stop until you cum for him again. His fingers swipe over your clit, “C’mon, gorgeous, cum for me. Please, doll, cum for me.”
Fuck, you clench down so hard, your walls fluttering over his cock, he could cry from how good you feel. Instead he drives into you faster, deeper and harder, fucking you senseless, your cunt sensitive, raw and his. Bound to the headboard, unable to do anything but let him own you. Bucky lives for this, making you take it, take him until you cum for him like a good fucking girl.
“Three.” Bucky chokes out when you’re frantic thrashing stops, your body absolutely rigid around him with a silent wail, head dropping back as your walls flutter around him, milking him dry. “Fucking beautiful, that's my good girl. ”
Only when your limbs loosen around his waist, chest heaving with each harsh breath does he let himself chase his own release, savoring your tight, hot pussy, his strokes erratic and sloppy until he fills you to the brim, his white hot cum leaking around him.
He stays inside you for a second, listening to your stuttering breath as his cock softens, his own breathing evening out after a few minutes. “You did so good for me, gorgeous,” he says with a cunning grin.
“Never letting you leave this bed,” he grunts, pulling out of your swollen cunt with a soft wet plop.
He grabs the key from the nightstand and brings your hands down, checking your wrists. You forget the ache in your arms as he rubs your back, murmuring sweet praises in your ear.
“Hold on,“ he says, leaving the warmth of your body to walk to the bathroom. You’re exhausted, on the verge of sleep as you lounge on the bed. The small ping near your head gets your attention, grabbing your phone, you giggle at the message on your lock screen before tossing it down. Bucky pokes out his head curiously, the sound of water running coming from the open door.
You shake your head, “That was Marcie asking if I’m alive. She thought you were going to kill me with your cock.” You yawn, curling up on your side, moving your sticky thighs apart, “Hurry and get back so we can sleep.”
“Gorgeous, that was the warm up, you have three days to make up for.” Bucky gives you a curious look as if you missed something quite obvious, his brow raised.
Bucky whistles, walking out with a warm washcloth, gently cleaning you up.
“What do you mean by warm up, Bucky?” You repeat, his whistling making you nervous.
“I’m going to grab your snacks.”
You stare at his back when he walks away, his tune getting louder. “Bucky, come back here!”
Bucky pauses in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder, “Trust me, you’re going to want to eat the snack.”
Sunlight beams through the open window, the occasional chirp breaks the silence. Taking a deep breath, you sigh, happy and sated, resting for the first time since you got home. Bucky snoring lightly beside you, his thick fingers still in your cunt. His other arm under your head, you would move but he has a smile on his face. You trace it with your fingertips.
You’re glad you waited to tell him your little secret, you know how he gets when he thinks you’re keeping something from him. Maybe you should tell him in public, at his shop or around friends- no, no that’s not going to stop him from losing it, you also know he doesn't know how to behave when he’s excited.
You’re going to need to plan this, make this surprise perfect for him.
Across the street.
Mrs Smith has decided she has enough of bikers ruining her neighborhood.
She leans out her window, glaring across at your home. She lets the curtain go, holding her phone to her ear, “Hello, Michelle, dearie, I need you to do me a favor. There’s a man I want you to meet. His name is James.”
"I want you to break up his happy little home."
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Summary: Bucky doesn’t like to be touched but when you accidentally fall asleep on him one night he realizes he could never get tired of your touch
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!reader
Word count: 1175
Bucky didn't like to be touched. He spent most of his life with others controlling his mind and body, so now that he had freedom he preferred that no one touched him. Everyone respected his choice and never touched him unless told so
Well that was until tonight
It was actually an accident. Movie night at the compound always left you extremely sleepy but this night you couldn't make it back to your bed. You didn't know how or even when but soon enough you were falling asleep with your head resting on Bucky's shoulders.
He tensed at first, surprised at the sudden contact, but he knew you didn't mean to do it, plus your hair smelled like strawberries so he sighed and let it be. If he was being honest, Bucky always had a soft spot for you. You were actually one of the few people that he could have a conversation with without feeling like you were walking on eggshells around him. Although you guys weren’t super close, your friendship always made people wonder if there was something more between you two. Maybe it was that lingering looks he would give you when you weren’t looking. Or maybe it was the way you always put a blanket on him when he fell asleep in random places.
You spent the entire night with your head on his shoulder and as the movie finished and the others went back to their rooms, Bucky sat still. Frozen and unsure what to do. "Are you going to bed Buck?" Steve asked when he noticed the lack of movement from his best friend
"What am I supposed to do? Is it rude to wake her up?" He asked in a clueless whisper
"you can wake her up or carry her to her room" Steve chuckled as he began walking to his room, "you decided. I'm going to bed. Night buck"
"Goodnight" He whispered looking at your sleeping silhouette beneath your blanket. He bit his lip, slowly getting up and carrying you, making extra sure to not wake you up.
As he walked down the hall he couldn't help but stare at you. You were cradled in his arms like it was the safest place in the world. A feeling of unfamiliar warmth grew in his chest as he watched sleep. Your bedroom wasn't far, actually it was right next to his, but Bucky had never been in it. He stood outside unsure if he should enter.
"You literally carried her over here Barnes get a grip" he whispered to himself as he reached for the doorknob. He didn’t know how but your room was exactly how he would’ve imagined it. Pictures of you and your friends filling the walls, a large bookshelf that held collections of your favorite novels, as well as an even large bed filled with pillows. The only thing out of place was a small vintage record player in the corner by the windows. Bucky chuckled as he moved to the bed, gently placing you on the soft red sheets.
He carefully moved your hair out of your face, staring at you for a quick second before getting up to leave. The sound of his feet shuffling on the floor woke you up. You slowly opened your eyes as you looked around the room, wondering how you got there. “Bucky?” You groaned as you spotted him, near the door about to leave.
He turned around quickly, not expecting you to be awake, “You fell asleep, go back to bed” He whispered. You let out a confused groan as you stretched your arms, “How did I get here?”
Bucky let out a deep breath before walking to the bed, hesitantly sitting on the edge, “You fell asleep on me so I bought you in here. The couch can be very uncomfortable”
Your eyes widened in embarrassment, “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-” He cut you off with a chuckle, “Don’t worry about it Doll. I don’t mind.” Your heart fluttered in at the nickname. He smiled at you bashful expression, “Alright well I’ll leave you to sleep, Goodnight Doll”
You watched as he got up from the bed, walking towards the door. “Goodnight Buck” You whispered as he closed the door. As you laid in bed your brain was flooded with thoughts. You had never seen Bucky as anything other than a friend but something about the way he looked in the moonlight that creeped from your windows made you smile bigger than you ever did before. You sighed trying to get some sleep but no matter how much you tossed and turned, sleep wasn’t coming as easy as before.
Bucky surprisingly had the same problem. Every time he closed his eyes, flashes of your face took over. The bed felt empty. It was like now that he knew what it was like to have someone fall asleep next to him, he could never go back. He stared at the ceiling annoyed that he couldn’t sleep. He glanced at the clock by his bedside. 2:10 A.M
“Fuck it” He said with a deep sigh as he got up, making his way to your room. He wasn’t expecting a reply but still knocked softly.
You quickly got up, opening the door an inch, “Hi” You whispered, a smiling forming on your face when you realized it was Bucky
“Hi” He smiled, “Um this might so weird but can I-” He paused trying to find the right words, “Do you mind if I-”
You bit your lip in amusement, “Do you wanna sleep with me?” Your stomach did backflip and the thought. He let out a breath of relief that you knew what he was going to ask, “Yes please”
“Sure’ You nodded your head as you opened the door wider. Nothing was said as you both climbed into the bed, wrapping yourselves in blankets. You could tell Bucky was trying his hardest not to make you uncomfortable, staying on the far side of the bed as he rested his head on your pillow. You turned to your side, catching eye contact with him, “Can we cuddle?” You asked hesitantly, unsure if you were pushing the limits by asking.
He smiled as he lifted his arm to let you move closer. You quickly moved closer, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. “Let me know if you want to stop. I know you don’t like to be touched” You mumbled as you traced the outline of his dog tags. He laughed, “I don’t think I could ever get tired of your touch Doll”
You lifted your head slightly to look at him. You watched as a soft blush took over his face, “Do you want to go on a date with me?” he asked
You nodded your head, quickly kissing his cheek, “sure but we should probably get some sleep first” You joked as you laid back on his chest. He chuckled, kissing your forehead as you both fell asleep.
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baby, but you.
summary. | He hopes you can feel it, because nobody else can heal it but you. Baby, but you.
warnings. | smut, hate fucking (ish), enemies to lover, slight angst, birthdays, degradation, praise, spitting, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, yearning, crushing, riding, couch sex, breeding, possessiveness, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI AND DO NOT REPOST MY STORIES.
word count. | 3.6k
pairings. | Bucky Barnes x Reader.
a/n. | happy birthday @asadmarveltrashbag ilysm!!! thank you so much for being there for me since like day one, for being such a good role model and for just being amazing. thank you so much for listening to me rant and giving me advice, i’m so grateful for you. i hope your birthday is amazing today, i love you so much!! don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know.
He stands afar from you. A cold, calculated stare that you’re almost tempted to challenge with your killer one. There are only about two and a half meters of space separating you two, and even that’s not enough. You’re like a cat and a dog, constantly fighting about God knows what. Sometimes it’s the stupidest of things; other times, it’s the most reasonable. Either he has the television on too loud, or you come home too late. The other neighbours… Well, frankly, they don’t live here anymore.
It’s because they can’t handle his screaming when he has nightmares. You scoffed when you first heard it from your landlord, finding it absolutely insane that nobody is used to the sounds of a nightmare. As if they’re any better. You handle it like a champion, simply just putting on earbuds and your favourite songs at the lowest volume until you fall asleep. You almost feel bad for him when you see him with deep bags under his eyes.
But one short, snarky remark from him has the sympathy in you draining. Almost like the way his hands are the palest colour ever, and his skin doesn’t have the redness it should have. Almost as if the colours on a painting have been scraped off. You shouldn’t be noticing these things, really, but you just can’t help it. He’s almost a shell of the man he once was, at least in his words, but you believe that with some care (not from your hands, ew), he’ll be back to normal.
He shouldn’t notice the way you sigh every time you get home. The way you drag yourself through the carpeted hallway, out from the metal box that Bucky doesn’t trust. He doesn’t charge anything that has to do with heights, so that’s why he’s settled for the second floor. The drop in his stomach brings back so many memories that he can’t bear to remember.
Sometimes, he picks up the rumble of your stomach that he knows you’re embarrassed about, only because when it happens, you become the most fearful sailor to ever cross the shore. You always arrive right before Bucky falls asleep, leaving him at peace. ...No, no, no. It’s not like that. He totally doesn’t wait up until you come home safely before he can actually fall asleep so he can have a sense of calm. No, that’s absurd. Another absurd thing is the ungodly hour that you arrive home.
“Listen, you’re the one who bumped into me, okay? Let’s just leave it at that,” you huff, swinging your keychain between your fingers. Your digits are so soft, only ever coarse when you touch the skin between them. His hands, however, are almost the opposite. They’re rough and dry, but the crevices are a bit damp with sweat from pure nervousness. “No, no, you bumped into me, and we’re going to leave it at that, okay? Okay,” he nods, even though he’s talking to you.
“No, you bumped into me, and that’s that. Goodbye, Mr. Barnes,” you finish, throwing your bag over your shoulder and stomping down the hallways. You don’t look back once, simply just strutting your way to that darned elevator that you loathe. Suddenly, a hand wraps around your arm and turns you around. “I didn’t say you could go; we’re not done until I say we’re done,” he growls, gripping your arm tight enough to have you whimpering.
“No, fuck you. I’m tired of constantly listening to you bitch and moan about things that aren’t even my fault. God, it’s like you’re twenty fucking years old with no maturity, it’s fucking pathetic,” you spit, trying to yank your arm away. But compared to a supersoldier, your strength is equal to a cool spring breeze hitting a concrete building—basically nothing. Bucky’s chest heaves, and for a moment, you’re scared.
But even though he has a temper, he could never hurt you. He’s not the Winter Soldier; you’re sure of it.
His jaw clenches, and you stare at him intensely. Work is long forgotten, just like the fact that today is your birthday. That nervous, jittery feeling that would pool in the pits of your soul isn’t there. You wonder if it’s because you’re all grown up now, or maybe it’s because you’ve been so busy that your birthday seems like any other day in your eyes. Your eyes fall to his lips, almost on instinct. They’re pink and plump, slightly damp from the wetness on his tongue.
He gently pushes you inside his home, and you stumble back in shock. “I have to go to work–” you start, but he cuts you off. “I don’t give a shit. I need to teach you a lesson,” he snaps, pulling off his leather jacket. It has blue hues to it, sometimes grey if shone under the correct lighting. It’s overall black, suiting that dark soul of his that some people claim he has. You keep your mouth shut, clutching onto the strap of your backpack that rests on your right shoulder.
Suddenly, that fiery haze of yours has faded out, and you just watch him dumbfounded. Your jaw is slightly slack, but your eyes aren’t bulging out. Bucky pulls off the unusual leather gloves that always seemed to be a little too big on him. The space between his fingers and the cloth is always too much, and you even contemplated ‘accidentally’ giving him a new, better-fitting pair.
They flop onto the floor with an almost laughable sound, but you know you shouldn’t even dare to crack a smile. “Always going on and on about something. You just need to be shut up for once, don’t you?” Bucky questions, snapping his head towards you. “N- No…” you whisper, looking down to the ground. Suddenly, you prefer looking at wood floors to handsome men such as Bucky.
“Oh… Right, I forgot. You don’t know what’s good for you, that’s why you go to work and come home so late in the night. Bet you don’t have any time to fuck around with those pathetic twenty-year-old douchebags. That’s why you touch that little pussy of yours before you head to work, right?” he questions, and you gulp thickly.
Did he really hear it all?
“Please, I heard the way you finger fuck yourself in the shower all the way here. You really need to learn how to properly lock your door. You’re lucky those old ladies were here when I heard you, or else I would’ve come all the way over there and taught you a real good lesson,” he snaps, and you genuinely feel like doubting every little thing you do. “And you know what’s so funny, doll? I even hear the way you moan my name when you’re about to come,” he whispers, standing so close to you, and you wonder how he even managed to get here.
Your faces are inches away, His warm breath fans against your skin, and Bucky can feel the nervousness seeping through your pores. “Need a refresher? Or are you just going to stay quiet?” he questions, raising his eyebrows. He has a stupid smile on his face, and you’re not sure whether you want to kiss him or slap him. Both seem very appealing, but God, that devil on your shoulder always did have a loud voice.
Your bag joins his gloves on the floor, and you tilt your head upwards to kiss him. Your lips slowly slot against his, the taste of stale coffee immediately fills your mouth as Bucky shoves his tongue past your lips. He cups the side on your face, and your hands remain bent in the air. You don’t know what to do with yourself, so you place them on his shoulders, hoping for the best. He tenses up for a bit, and you start to pull away.
He doesn’t let you go too far. His hands keep you near him, and he stares into your eyes. Blue, blown-out orbs give Bucky an even darker look, and you’re practically sailing the same ship. “Don’t… Don’t go,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “I won’t, but-” you begin, but he cuts you off with an open-mouthed kiss. It’s so rough, so passionate. Teeth and tongues clash at each other, and you whimper against him as his hands move from your face.
They run down your body before gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him. His front presses against yours, and you can feel his defined muscles through that black t-shirt of his. You wrap your arms around his neck, such a simple act and yet he’s swooning like the lovesick fool he is. No, no, no, he’s not lovesick, and he’s not swooning. He’s just wanting, and that is all, just like you are.
You roll your hips for friction, desperate for something. The faint feeling of Bucky’s hard cock sends shivers down your spine, and you just know he’s huge. He could probably split you in two if he really wants to, and maybe it’s what you want as well. God, just the mental image of his cock sliding in and out of you is so pleasurable. Wetness soaks your panties, and you moan into his mouth.
“Say ‘ah,’ slut,” he mumbles before pulling away from the kiss again. You quickly do so and watch as Bucky puckers his bruised, red lips. You’re not sure what to expect; a stupid, silly kiss or something else. Your tongue is stretched out inside your mouth, and you wait for him as your chest rises and falls. Your eyes watch him as he spits into your mouth, a wad of spit dripping onto your tongue and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.
You quickly swallow it as if it’s some sort of antidote to an incurable disease. “Oh, you’re such a dirty fucking girl, aren’t you? I bet you’d let me do anything to you, right? Let me fuck you silly, throw you around, treat you like the spoiled brat you are,” Bucky growls with a fierce smirk on his stupidly gorgeous face. Sculpted by the Gods themselves, you wonder why the world has been so mean to him.
No, no, no, you don’t. You’re just desperate and needy.
“You really are stupid, and I haven’t even touched that little pussy of yours yet, and you can’t even answer a simple li’l question,” Bucky says out loud, expressing pure shame and disgrace. You shake your head before placing your hands back on his hard, defined chest. There’s a specific spot on his chest where the fabric is too sheer. You can see the way his soft hair has been shaved down to a mere stubble, and you wonder what he’d look like if it was grown out.
“I- I’m a dirty girl, I’d let you do anything to me, James,” you whisper to him, looking up at him with unintentional doe eyes. “I know, baby, I know,” he smirks before pushing you backwards. You expect to collide with the wooden floors harshly and startle the downstairs residents, or maybe even on a carpet that would try to break your fall but would end up failing.
You don’t expect to fall back onto a soft, cushioned couch. It’s more so an armchair that is a greyish-blue colour, one that you’d see and Ikea and want so bad, but you’d quickly change your mind once you see the whopping price it’s set at. Bucky towers over you, and you tilt your head up, still watching has the features of his face twitch a bit. His hands run down to your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your jeans before his nimble yet strong, thick fingers reach to the button and zipper.
He makes quick work of stripping your clothes off for you, and you try your hardest to do the same for him. But flying, clashing hands that are oh so desperate can’t really do much. So as he pulls your wet panties down your feet, you hurriedly kick them to the floor. Bucky pulls his shirt over his head, and you’re not sure if you’ve lost it or if time truly has slowed down. You’re able to memorize each freckle, each scar, each mole and each muscle of his upper body.
He’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Though everyone has their measly little flaws that can be so bothersome, in your eyes, he has no flaws. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he breathlessly tells you, making you struggle to fight the cheerful smile that forces its way onto your face. “You’re pretty too, James,” you tell him, reaching backwards to unclasp your bra.
Now, there’s nothing special about it, really. It’s plain black, and in some areas, it physically pains you, leaving branded marks behind that feel good when you gently run your hands over them. Nonetheless, you look gorgeous with it on. But when it’s on the floor, treated like nothing, you’re even more beautiful. Your slick has stained your inner thighs with stickiness, and your clit throbs with need.
Bucky parts your legs, watching as strings of wetness pull apart from each other. “Fucking hell, is that all because of me, slut? Say it, tell me who you’re so wet for,” he demands, and your breathing hitches. “S’all for you, James, I’m so wet because of you,” you whisper to him, and he smirks devilishly. You clench around nothing but air, desperate for his cock to be inside you. “I want you so bad, James, please fuck me,” you beg to him desperately, and he chuckles.
Bucky goes to start taking off his pants, unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper that sometimes gets caught onto the fabric of his boxers a little too much. The black fabric slips off his skin like an extra layer of skin, and the sight of his hard cock beneath his briefs is so sexy. You let out a shaky breath, and you can just see how fucking huge he is. Impossibly long with a thickness that’ll leave you limping for at least a week or two.
“You know what’s so fucking hilarious, baby? Just moments ago, you were cursing me out, fuming at me and calling me pathetic, but look at you; you’re the pathetic one here. Practically drooling for my cock, so needy as soon as I put my hands on you,” Bucky scoffs, and you know he’s so right. He pulls down his boxers, and you watch as his cock springs out, slapping his lower abdomen and near his pretty Adonis bone.
He roughly pulls you up and sits down on the couch before dragging you onto his lap. You straddle the sides of his thick thighs, and his big cock presses right next to your pussy, between your legs. Beads of precum drip down the shaft of his cock, and some of it even sticks to your skin. “You want my cock, baby? Well, go ahead, you can have it,” he tells you, resting his hands on your hips.
You exhale nervously, knowing that his cock is gonna stretch you out so much, it’ll be borderline painful and pleasurable. You lift your hips up a bit, and Bucky’s hand grasps the base of his cock. He’s sticky and pulsating, a raging red that is almost purple if you squint your eyes enough. He drags it from your swollen little pearl all the way down to your drooling hole. The mild friction is absolutely amazing, making you moan softly.
Bucky shudders as he slowly pushes the tip of his cock inside of you. He almost wants to tease you so badly, make you beg for it until you’re sobbing and going all ditzy for him. But he’s not all the mean, and he can’t possibly be so cruel to the birthday girl. In one swift motion, Bucky pulls you down onto his cock, burying himself inside of you. You toss your head back and cry out as he stretches you painfully. The wet squelching pounds of your pussy are loud, but your moans are much louder.
He curses and bites down on his bottom lip, falling in love with the way your pussy hugs him tightly and the velvet feeling of your walls. No, no, no, he is not falling in love. He’s just desperate, that’s all. It takes you both a few seconds to adjust, and the painful stretch dulls down to immense pleasure. You struggle to control your breathing, though, because you’ve never taken anyone or anything as big and him. Months of wanting and needing him have finally come down to this, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
He hopes you can feel it because nobody can heal it but you. Every single day he thinks about you, and his heart hurts. His heart hurts when he watches you leave and come home, it hurts when you both fight, and it hurts when he believes you could never love him. His mind still tells him that, and yet here you are, riding his cock on your birthday. He notices the way your bottom lip wobbles a bit, and he pities you.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby, you’re doing so good. Ride my cock, birthday girl, I know you can do it,” Bucky praises with the most innocent smile ever. You nod your head and slowly begin to rock your hips, moving them up and down his cock. Bucky is torn; he doesn’t know whether he should stare at your pretty face or at where you’re both connected. Your slick coats his cock and leaves it glistening, and he watches as it disappears and reappears over and over.
His hand returns back onto your hips, and he gently guides you up and down his cock. Your pained whimpers soon turn to loud, slutty, desperate moans, and Bucky begins to fuck up into your cunt, meeting you at every thrust. “Fuck, yeah, that’s my good girl. Riding my cock so fucking good,” Bucky coos, and you can’t help but giggle. Warmth fills your chest, and pleasure blooms immensely in your core, and it’s the exact same for Bucky.
His balls slap against your ass, and his cock drives in and out of you. You ride him at a quicker pace, moaning loudly, and he nudges against your sweet spot. “You look so fucking sexy riding my cock, baby. Could watch you forever an’ ever,” Bucky purrs, gripping your hips even tighter. Electricity crackles up your spine, almost like a burning wire in a destroyed fuse box. Everything is so sensitive, and the searing pleasure builds up inside the two of you.
Beads of sweat drip down your neck, and it is the same for Bucky. His skin shines just like his cock does, and the veins on the side of it throb with every movement. The wet noises and the sound of skin on skin fills the room almost impressively. The neighbours would’ve already filed noise complaints if they still lived here, but they don’t. So Bucky’ll fuck your brains out until you can’t make a sound.
“Fuck, you’re close, aren’t you? Can feel the way that nice little cunt is squeezin’ my cock,” he groans, staring up at you with his jaw slightly slacked. Your eyes have glazed over, and you stare at Bucky’s face. You ride him using his dick for all your needs and wants. It’s just like you’ve imagined, even down to the pleasure you’re feeling. “Mhm, gonna come all over your big cock,” you whimper at a specific thrust.
And he’s close too. Though the serum should make him last longer, your pussy just defies those rules. He fucks into you faster and rougher, and your legs have turned to jelly. You collapse onto his chest and let him pound your pussy into oblivion. Bucky’s chest rumbles with a chain of moan and curses, and you look up at him. His metal arm is icy cold, just like his eyes. But his orbs are darker than regular ice. They resemble black ice more than anything.
The elastic band in your stomach twists up tightly until it can’t do anything but snap. And so it does. The dam breaks, and you’re suddenly coming around Bucky’s cock. Your cum coats his cock and drips down his balls as your body seizes up. Your jaw falls open, and your eyes roll back while you moan loudly. “Fuck, you look so pretty when you come,” Bucky breathes, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck.
You cry out loudly as Bucky sloppily fucks you through your orgasm and chases his own. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, knock you up with my kids. Fuck, you’d look so hot with a bump, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of your body,” he moans deeply, feeling his balls tighten up. He tosses his head back and curses, hitting his release. Ropes of cum shoot inside your cunt, painting your walls and even leaking out a bit. Somewhere, deep down inside Bucky, he truly hopes it sticks.
He moans loudly as his hips give a few shallow thrusts, prolonging his orgasm. You both sigh, slick with sweat and other bodily fluids that neither of you cares about. “Happy birthday…” Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss on the side of your head. “T- Thank you… How’d you know, though?” you question, even though his cock is still inside you. “Just did… Listen, I’m sorry–” he starts, but you cut him off. “Shh, I don’t care about anything but you, baby,” you tell him, whispering gently.
“Baby, but you.”
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Make It Up To Me, Barnes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 4.3k
Warnings: Arguments, divorce mention, Bucky struggles with communication, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex (wrap it), edging, size kink, Daddy kink, fingering, we all know Bucky would be a hoe for his girl in a sundress let’s be real, Married!Bucky, good old fashioned makeup sex
Summary: Bucky and the reader have an argument and she leaves him, Steve convinces Bucky to talk it out with her. Complete smut but they work it out!!
A/N: I imagined this as hate sex with Bucky and turned out a bit softer than I expected, I just live for the thought of hate sex with Beefy Bucky omg. Also can’t believe I’m at over 200 followers now, thank you all so so much!!
Minors, do not interact
“Damn Buck, I still can’t believe you let that one get away.” Steve taunted as Bucky sipped his beer. Both men were sitting in the comfortable wicker garden furniture, drinking together and people watching the other guests at the party. It was your annual neighbourhood barbecue and truthfully, it was the perfect day for it. There was a light breeze but apart from that, it was stiflingly hot outside but that was to be expected in the middle of summer.
“Trust me, if you were married to her, you’d get it.” Bucky sighed, just a little hint of venom in his tone, downing what was left of his beer. Even Bucky had to admit, you were looking stunning. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, the way that pretty little sundress made you look so modest and pure was killing him. You two had been married for a few years, with things getting rocky in the last few months. Bucky had been cold and distant, pushing you away, not answering your calls, giving you short answers and never turning up for dinner. Eventually things just broke down, despite your marriage councillor’s best efforts to get Bucky to open up. After one particularly bad argument a few weeks ago, you had packed up a bag and left, slamming the door behind you.
“You don’t fucking try anymore Bucky! I do everything around this house and you don’t even bother to show up for dinner! I don’t know what I did to make you hate me but God, you’re really punishing me for it, aren’t you?” You had spat, finally reaching your breaking point when he hadn’t shown up on time for dinner for the sixth night in a row, leaving you eating alone yet again. “You don’t even touch me anymore, you hardly ever look at me, what did I do wrong?” You yelled, throwing the dishcloth to the ground in frustration. It was horrible not even being acknowledged in your own home, while you still slept in the same bed, you didn’t speak after the lights went out. All the dinners you made with love for Bucky sat in the fridge until you had to throw them out and with no explanation as to what was wrong, it was becoming soul destroying.
“Nothing, leave it.” Bucky had hissed, still not even looking at you.
“For God’s sake Bucky, it’s not ‘nothing’. Talk to me.” You pleaded, running a hand through your hair, at an absolute loss for what to do next. You had this argument weekly for the last few months, with nothing ever changing. It was always the same with Bucky, he just wanted you to drop it and leave him alone.
“Leave it, I mean it.” He insisted firmly, not budging an inch. His huge frame had almost been intimidating as he got up to leave the kitchen, running away from the conversation yet again.
“Bucky I’ve had it. I’m at my wits end. If you leave this kitchen, so help me God, I’m leaving you.” You threatened, tears spilling down your cheeks, both from frustration and the soul destroying pain of seeing the love of your life shut you down, once again. Bucky hadn’t spoke, he just kept walking down the short hall to your living room, slamming the door behind him. Unshed tears spilled quickly and you felt your heart break in your chest. How had things got this bad? Your vision was blurry with tears as you packed a bag, stuffing some clothes into a duffle roughly, with little thought or care as to whether anything matched. You could hear the TV blaring through the living room door as you gave one last glance to the room your husband was in, before turning and heading out the front door and getting in your car.
“Still think you should’ve just talked to her. She was good for you Buck.” Steve offered, making the dark haired man furrow his brow even more than it was before.
“I spent enough of my life being controlled Steve, I didn’t need some nagging wife trying to control me too.” Bucky snorted with derision. Deep down, he knew he could’ve been more open and honest with you and he knew it would’ve saved both of you from a whole lot of heartache but he was in far too deep to admit his mistake now. The worst part was he knew everything you were doing had come from a place of love. You hadn’t been trying to control him but once he let his head get the better of him, there was no coming back from it.
“From where I’m sitting, it looks like she only ever tried to take care of you. The girl just wanted to make sure you ate properly for God’s sake. I don’t see why you let her leave you.” Steve’s disapproval of the circumstances of your breakup was more than evident. He didn’t even try to hide the fact he thought losing you was the biggest mistake Bucky had ever made. He would’ve been happy to keep his opinions on your separation to himself if it hadn’t been for the fact that he had witnessed first hand how miserable Bucky had been since you split, no matter how hard he tried to pretend he was fine. Bucky didn’t reply and opened another beer instead, pressing the cool rim of the bottle to his lips. His eyes hadn’t left you all evening, watching as you swayed happily with the hem of your sundress flowing around your knees. You had hardly even looked in his direction, truly seeming like you were thriving after your split. The thought of you moving on ate him up inside. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were seeing someone new, it had been almost a couple of months after all, you could’ve found someone else in that time. The thought of anyone else touching you was more than he could bear, making his knuckles of his flesh hand turn white from how hard he gripped the beer bottle.
You had made your way around most of the crowd at the party giving lemonade top ups before you decided you should probably offer some to your ex-lover to save face. The knot in your stomach pointed out exactly how you would rather do literally anything other than go over and make painful small talk with the man you had lost but you still loved with all your heart.
“Lemonade, boys?” You offered with a smile, only letting yourself look at Steve and not at the man who was still technically your husband.
“Yeah y/n, sounds great, doesn’t it Buck?” Steve encouraged, lifting his glass to let you fill it. Bucky only nodded in response, doing everything in his power to not look at your legs trying to stop wondering if someone else was spreading them these days.
“Here ya go Buck.” You smiled curtly, bending at the waist to fill his glass that he hadn’t even bothered to lift off the grass. Bucky drew in a sharp breath at how close you were to him and how your sundress rode up just a little, showing off those gorgeous thighs.
“Thanks.” He huffed when you straightened again, doing his best not to look at the little jiggle of your ass as you walked away, taking lemonade to another little group of neighbours.
“Christ Bucky, that was painful. You need to talk to her. Sort things out.” Steve insisted, noticing the little breath Bucky let out now that you were gone. In truth, he hadn’t even realised he was holding it.
“Yeah.” Bucky huffed out simply, leaving Steve unsure if he actually meant it or not.
The rest of the party was pretty uneventful, you relaxed on a picnic blanket, chatting to some of the other ladies about the books you were all currently reading before helping with the dishes and clearing up. Almost everyone had went home already when their kids had got tired, drained from running around all afternoon in the summer heat. You had spent the best part of the last hour stretched out on the picnic blanket alone, just enjoying the light evening breeze, reading one of the books your neighbour had let you borrow.
“Buck if you don’t go talk to her, I will.” Steve threatened, noticing how Bucky was staring at you yet again.
“You wouldn’t.” The dark haired man hissed, eyes never leaving you. It killed him to admit how lost he was without you but the fear of you rejecting him, confirming his suspicion that you were doing just fine without him was more than he could handle.
“Try me.” Steve replied curtly, watching as his friend’s expression became even more annoyed. Bucky’s jaw was tense as he pulled himself up from the wicker chair, crossing the short distance to where you sat on the blanket.
“Can we talk?” Bucky asked as calmly as he could, his huge frame blocking the sunlight.
“I don’t know? Can we?” You replied, being as short with him as possible, stomach flipping with nerves at having to make awkward conversation for the first time in weeks.
“Maybe somewhere more private? Back home?” He suggested, ignoring how difficult you were trying to be. He knew you had every right to make this worse on him, it was his own fault after all.
“Fine.” You huffed, closing the book and standing up, dusting down the little skirt of your dress. Bucky led the way back to your house, only a few doors up from the little park that you had just spent the afternoon in. God you wished your heart could slow down, praying that he wasn’t just taking you back home to sign the divorce papers. You both walked in silence, Bucky unlocked the door and held it open for you, letting you walk inside and then closing it behind him. The house seemed exactly as it had when you left it and you were thankful for that at least.
“How’ve you been?” He asked softly, getting both of you a beer from the fridge, popping the cap off with his metal thumb. That had always been his favourite party trick. You took the bottle from him gratefully, settling into a chair at your kitchen island before taking a sip.
“Been busy.” You offered quietly. You knew you couldn’t say you were good, Bucky would’ve seen right through the lie. He just nodded, taking a sip from his own bottle.
“Missed you.” Bucky admitted, looking anywhere but your face. You didn’t say anything in response, just taking another sip from your bottle. There was so much you could’ve said, you missed him too, he could’ve called, things didn’t have to be like this but instead you kept your lips pressed tightly shut.
“You look good. Happy.” Bucky had barely whispered the last word, making you question whether he had even said it at all.
“And are you? Happy? Enjoying life as a single man?” You asked, giving him a little smile, heart breaking into a million pieces and just praying your eyes didn’t show it.
“No doll, I’m not. Miss having you around.” He seemed so much smaller, leaning against the other side of the kitchen island, beer resting on the dark granite countertop. “Miss waking up beside you, miss kissing you goodbye when you go off to work, miss your cooking.” He continued, finally daring to look you in the eye. The lump in your throat felt like it might consume you, tears welling in your eyes.
“You haven’t done any of that in months Buck. Even before we separated.” You pointed out.
“You with someone else now?” He asked, voice more than a little broken.
“No Buck, there’s no one else.” You reassured him, noticing how he stood up a little straighter. “Never wanted anyone but you. Thought you knew that.” His eyes seemed to light up at your little admission. He still had a chance. He could still win you back and spend the rest of his life making up for the fact he had been so damn stupid. Before he knew what he was doing, he had rounded the island and captured your lips in a searing kiss, hands clinging desperately to your hair. His huge thumbs caressed your cheeks and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. God you had missed this, the passion and need that came with loving Bucky Barnes. His mouth was hungry on yours, making up for months of longing all at once. He clung to you desperately, his mouth moving against yours like a man starved. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch, his huge frame warm and comforting and familiar against your own, making you feel tiny.
“Missed you. So much.” He panted between needy kisses, not even taking the time to pull his lips from yours as he uttered the words.
“Missed. You. Too.” You managed to mumble back, tugging on his belt loops to pull him impossibly closer. Before you knew it, Bucky had lifted you up, gripping your ass with his flesh hand before placing you gently on the kitchen island, his lips never leaving yours as he did so.
“ ‘m so sorry doll, for everything.” He whispered, his bright blue eyes showing just how sincere he was, slotting comfortably between your thighs.
“Make it up to me, Barnes.” You whispered with a little smirk, crashing your lips against his again, needing this just as much as he did. A low growl was ripped from his throat at how fiercely your tongue slid over his, the need to feel you again almost consuming him. His hands slipped under the skirt of your little sundress, grasping the soft skin of your thighs firmly, the metal one feeling cooler against your skin than the other.
“Shit baby doll, you’re absolutely dripping.” He hissed, snaking his flesh hand to the apex of your thighs, finding them slick already, your underwear had been soaked through long ago. You could only moan in response, holding the back of his neck, lips parted, as his finger tips ghosted over the soaked lace. “Look so pretty like this doll, so ready for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.” His fingers barely teasing the thin material.
“You’re not in any position to tease Bucky.” You hummed, voice barely above a whisper. Looking dead in his eyes, you could see how badly he needed this, how he was thriving off the little moans and sighs he pulled from your lips.
“You’re right toots, bet you’ve missed these fingers. No one makes you cum like I do, not even yourself, isn’t that right? Bet even when you touched yourself it didn’t feel as good as when I do it. Your fingers just don’t make you feel as full as mine do.” You hated how every last one of his words had been right. He could play your body like a violin, knowing exactly how to coax orgasm after orgasm from you when he wanted to, leaving you with shaking legs and that fucked out look in your eyes that he loved so much. He pulled your underwear aside painfully slowly, trailing just one finger from your clit to your needy hole, before swiping back up again. His touch was still featherlight, only teasing but it was enough to drive you wild. Ever so slowly, he dragged his finger down your pussy once more, slipping it in you up to the first knuckle, connecting his plump lips with your neck at the same time. The light dusting of his beard scratching against your neck as he sucked you brutally, finger sliding deeper was almost too much. After each dark hickey he sucked, he made sure to soothe the tender skin with his tongue, pulling moans from you that were nothing short of obscene.
“Need everyone to know you’re mine. My wife.” He half groaned against your skin, admiring the dark bruises forming. He couldn’t help but love how you rutted against his finger desperately, needing more of him.
“Bucky please.” You pleaded, looking at him with that soft expression that made his heart melt.
“What do you need baby doll?” Bucky cooed, holding your face with his metal hand, curling his flesh fingers inside you until he hit that sweet spot you couldn’t reach on your own. He was truly obsessed with how your face warped into the perfect vision of pleasure, mouth falling open, eyes squeezing shut as he tore a groan from your bruised throat.
“Need more.” You managed to huff out, keeping your eyes closed, grinding helplessly against his hand. The sight of your plump, wet lips, parted ever so slightly as you rode his hand could almost have made him cum then and there.
“Anything for you toots.” He smiled, plunging a second finger into you, groaning at the stretch of your walls as you accommodated him. “Even tighter than I remember baby doll.” He praised. You could only whimper as his fingers flexed and curled within you, the wet sounds coming from your pussy were nothing short of obscene but that only fuelled him, making him work your body faster. “You’re so close toots, you wanna cum for me? You gonna be a good girl and cum on my fingers?” He coaxed, bringing his metal hand down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. You nodded weakly, letting him work your body in the way only he knew. “Who owns this little pussy?” He asked, feeling you reach your peak but stilling his fingers before you had a chance to fall over the edge, letting the sharp edge of you impending orgasm fade.
“You do Bucky! My pussy is yours!” You gasped, willing to do anything if it meant he would just let you cum.
“Damn right it is.” He growled lowly, lips finding his way back to your throat as he let his fingers continue bringing you blinding pleasure. It didn’t take long for him to send you spiralling into the most intense orgasm, your body tightening, clenching and gushing around his fingers. You practically screamed his name as you rode out your high, grasping his wrist and clamping your trembling thighs shut around his hands as he continued, tearing every last wave of pleasure from your body. “Fucking delicious baby doll.” He groaned, sucking the evidence of your orgasm from his fingers. You huffed out a little laugh, running a hand through your hair to steady yourself, leaning back on your other arm for support. “You’re like a fuckin’ wet dream sitting there, you know that?” He smiled, taking in the sight of his wife in her pretty little sundress, panties pushed to the side and thighs slick with arousal. “Hair all messy, cheeks flushed, pretty little pussy on display to the world.” His words sent a shiver down your spine, sparks of need shooting through your body. “Can’t believe how stupid I was to let you leave.” His tone got a little more serious, blue eyes full of regret.
“Hey, I’m back now. No harm done.” You soothed, opening your arms so he could slot himself between your thighs and hug you close. The scent of his familiar cologne was all you needed, little kisses peppered against your shoulder as Bucky buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Now take me to bed and fuck me like our marriage depends on it.” You laughed quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.
“No pressure then.” He chuckled, scooping you off the counter and carrying you gracelessly to the bedroom, both of you laughing together as he did so. “You know, half of me wants you to keep that pretty little dress on.” He smiled, setting you down on the bed gently, layering his body of top of yours so he could press needy kisses to your lips.
“Oh yeah? And what does the other half of you want?” You teased, fingertips digging into his firm back.
“To rip it off you.” He replied simply, fingers playing with the hem of the skirt. “Gently though, want to make sure it stays in one piece. Looks so damn good on you, gotta show you off some more.”
“Make up your mind Barnes, you can’t have both.” You laughed, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them down his legs.
“Take it off.” He decided, pushing his jeans the rest of the way down before pulling his shirt over his head. He watched hungrily as you rose to your knees on the bed, pulling the dress up over your head before letting it fall to the floor. “No bra? God, you really are a wet dream.” Bucky all but groaned, joining you on the bed, his lips sliding against your own as he pulled your underwear down your legs. You placed both hands on his firm chest, pushing him back onto the plush pillows, slotting one leg either side of him, leaving you straddling his waist. You couldn’t help but rut against him through his boxers. He felt absolutely huge, so long and thick, nestling perfectly between your folds. Little whines escaped your mouth as you lost yourself in pleasure, not even needing him inside you for him to make you feel incredible.
“Soaking me toots, you know that?” He growled in your ear and you gripped the headboard for leverage, practically humping his clothed cock. “Making such a fucking mess, little slut, you like soaking daddy’s cock like that? Like feeling how hard I get for you? Don’t you want more baby? Or is just Rockin’ against my cock like that enough to make you cum?” His hands gripped your thighs tight, helping you to slick him up.
“Need to fuck you.” You gasped out, finally pulling his boxers off and positioning yourself above him once more, sinking down onto his cock slowly. The stretch was almost unbearable, your eagerness to have him inside you conflicting with the pain of your walls fighting to accommodate him.
“Too big for you baby doll? Been too long since you took daddy’s cock, hmm? Promise you won’t ever have to go without it again. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you, promise.” His filthy growls only made you sink down onto him faster, despite the pain until he was fully seated inside you. “You wanna fuck daddy princess? Wanna see you use me. Use me to make yourself cum. Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, just want you to cum as hard as you can, you got it baby doll?” He asked softly, cradling your face in his metal hand as you began to rut back and forth, loving how his cock hit the deepest spots inside you.
“You feel so good, so big Bucky, you’re so big.” You sobbed out, feeling the head of his cock nudge that sweet spot deep inside you. Bucky thrust up into you harshly, making you yelp.
“Think you mean daddy, toots?” He teased, thumb placed on your chin to make you look down at him. He looked absolutely perfect underneath you, hair messy, wet tongue poking out to soothe the lips that you had assaulted earlier. His hand went back to your thighs, helping you grind messily on his cock.
“Need more daddy please. Need you to -ah- need to cum.” Your whines were practically cries at this point as Bucky slid two flesh fingers between your bodies, nudging perfectly against your clit.
“That’s it, good girl, get nice and full and fuck yourself against daddy’s fingers. Look so good like this for me angel, so so pretty. Stuffed full of cock and rutting on my fingers like a needy little slut. Such a pretty girl.” He praised, making you speed up. His fingers nudged your clit just right, making you mewl. Bucky began to press his fingers against your clit just that little bit harder, sending you reeling into your second orgasm of the night. Before you could even come down from your high, Bucky had flipped you, laying you on your back with him on top of you, fucking you roughly through the aftershocks. You were practically screaming for him as he thrust into you, making sure you felt every last inch of his cock. You were so overstimulated it almost hurt as Bucky fucked months worth of need into your body.
“Love you doll.” He whispered, not slowing down at all before sliding his tongue over yours, all passion and longing and need.
“Jesus, Buck, cum for me, please Bucky.” You whimpered, grasping at his back and shoulders, fingernails digging into his flesh.
“This pussy is mine.” He growled lowly, hips stuttering as he came with a long, drawn out groan, filling you completely. Cum dripped out of you before he could even pull out, marking you completely and utterly as his. After a few minutes, he flopped onto the bed beside you, pulling you close and kissing your forehead, despite the thin sheen of sweat.
“Shit, if the makeup sex is that good, we should argue more often.” You laughed lightly, still feeling like you hadn’t quite come back down to earth yet. He chuckled lovingly, stroking your hair.
“I don’t know doll, wasn’t nice being without you. Don’t think I’ll be rushing to argue like that again.” He admitted, stroking your bare back tenderly with his metal fingers, noticing your heart rate return to somewhere closer to normal.
“I guess you’re right, missed having you around.” You smiled quietly, pulling him into a gentle kiss.
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I've been thinking about a priest trying to "save" the reader from demon Bucky, only to fail miserably and gets forced to watch Bucky fuck the reader in his own church
Pairing: Demon Bucky x reader
Warnings: Smut, kinda public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism Minors DNI.
Word count: less than 1.5 k (?)
A/N: Written on my phone while at work. Will edit later. Do not copy,rewrite, translate or repost my drabbles.
You're sitting in Father Roger's office wearing a demure white lace dress. The matching stockings go up to your thighs, held in place by a pair of wine red garters. Buckys favorites. He loves how innocent you appear when you dress like this.
Your eyes hover over the bookshelf to your left, it's filled with religious literature. Even more books are stacked on his desk. Various pens and crosses are scattered across the uneven piles of paperwork. The overhead light catches specks of dust that dance in the still air. The faint scent of damp wood seeps into your nose.
You eye a particularly pretty cross, your hand drawn to it. Touching the tapered edge, you giggle when you feel a spark sting your fingertips. Withdrawing your hand, you continue to study the room while you wait.
You hum under your breath, perking up when you hear footsteps approaching. Straightening up, you smooth down the front of your dress.
Father Rogers closes the door behind him with a heavy sigh. "I'm so glad you could make it today."
He steps into your line of vision. You give him an alluring grin, widening your eyes ever so slightly. "Of course Father," you say, keeping your voice soft.
Folding your hands on your lap, you blink up at him. Steve watches you closely as he takes his seat, his eyes hardening when he sees the finger shaped bruises decorating your neck.
"There have been rumors that you were seen at the old church and that you may have been engaging in--," he huffs, removing his glasses, he pinches the bridge of his nose. In all his years, he never thought he would be having this conversation.
You lean forward, placing your palms on his desk. "Yes Father."
"Excuse me." He says, his brows furrowing.
You get out of the chair, keeping your hands on the smooth wooden surface. "I did go to the church. I did call for Bucky. And those activities they're whispering about are all true." You smile proudly.
Steve exhales sharply. He tosses his glasses down and grabs your hands. "Child, do you know what you have done? It's not too late, I can help you. We can rid you of this demonic presence."
His impassioned rant fades when you tilt your head to the side. Your eyes drifting over his shoulder. You grin, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. "You hear that baby. He can rid me of your demonic presence."
Steve gawks at you, carefully withdrawing his hands. The sweet scent of lilacs and vanilla fill the musty air. The lights flicker changing from the dull yellow glow to an unnatural red.
Steve turns his head, startling in his chair. He curses under his breath, his heart hammering painfully in his chest as Bucky emerges from the shadows.
"Mmm language Father," Bucky purrs, gliding across the room.
He stands behind you, pressing down on your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. "Tell me, Father, just how do you plan on getting rid of me."
Goosebumps prickles across your skin as his large hands push your dress up your thighs to your waist. He plucks the garter, the band snapping on your tender skin. You hiss, loving the delicious sting. Bucky palms your ass. You hear shifting and rustling behind you.
Steve raises his hand, starting to form a cross. Bucky laughs a beautiful musical tone that makes you shiver. You're still not used to that mesmerizing sound.
Steve flinches, clutching his ears. He gasps when his hands are pulled down. His seat moving across the floor, the wheels squeaking and rattling as he's pushed to the desk.
Bucky licks up the side of your neck. He grips your hips and pushes into your slick walls with one firm thrust. Pleasure blooms from your core as he stretches you. Fuck, you never feel a burn with him, just pure bliss. You drop to your elbow, moaning as you blatantly stare at an aghast Steve.
Bucky grunts, snapping his hips into yours. "I'm so deep in her. She's so fucking tight." He lifts your hips and you cry out his name.
"You hear that Father," Bucky asks, a smirk forming as Steve struggles against his invisible bonds. Bucky pulls you flush against his chest, each stroke of his cock pushing you to your tiptoes.
He places his hand over your mouth, muffling your moans. The salacious wet sloshing of your cunt echoing in the small room is vulgar and filthy and it makes you even wetter, your slick dripping around his cock.
"Sounds like she doesn't want to let me go." Bucky taunts, lifting your dress, exposing your swollen pussy. Steves's eyes darken, a hoarse grunt caught in his throat.
"Her sweet cunt keeps sucking me back in." He groans, fucking into you harder and faster. You're not listening, too focused on the pleasure burning through your veins.
His tail wraps around your belly, keeping you still. Buckys mouth drops to your ear. "You know, I bet the good father is hard right now, bet his cock is aching to feel your tight pussy wrapped around him."
He flicks his wrist, lifting Steve out of the chair. Your grin hidden by Bucky's rough palm, he's right. Steve can't hide his lust-blown pupils, he definitely can't hide his cock straining the thin fabric of his pants.
You can help the moan ripping through your chest. Buckys large body surrounding you, Steve's piercing eyes on you. It's so debauched but you love every second of it.
"Aw look at that," he darkly chuckles. Bucky pulls your dress down exposing your tits, his thumb teasing your pebbled nipple while his long dexterous fingers circle your clit. "He wants you, little one, but you belong to me."
"Yes, yes I'm yours, all yours Bucky," you pant.
He nips at your bruised throat, his hips slapping into you so fast you're getting dizzy. It's too much, you're so close, so fucking close.
"All mine. Let's show him how pretty you look when you cum."
Steve crashes to the floor, his head tilted back as the desk flies across the room. His gaze locked on your pussy. "Cum for him, little one, let him see why your pussy is better than salvation. " He says, his fingers spreading your folds so Steve can see his large, thick cock pushing into your sopping core.
You clench down with a cry. It's a visceral reaction, the knot unraveling in your cunt, your body tensing as you fall apart.
"Good girl." Bucky groans, his deep voice rumbling across your skin. " Don't you agree, Steve?"
A sly grin cuts across his face, his blue eyes flickering to a deep black. "She's a very good girl."
He stands, shedding his cloak. "Now it's my turn to ruin her sweet cunt."
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It’s My Party, You’re Not Invited
Summary: Bucky has a birthday party, and for some reason you weren’t invited.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: A little bit of angst, overthinking.
Author’s Notes: Sometimes I get lost in my daydreams and this is the kind of stuff I think up. Requests are absolutely open, I’d appreciate the inspiration! Clearly I need some lol I left the ending open on purpose for a potential part two in the future. (What do you think? What reason do you think Bucky would have for not inviting you?)
You paused the movie playing on the TV and strained your ears to pinpoint where the loud music was playing from. No parties from Tony were scheduled for this week, and the avengers very rarely celebrated their birthdays, although you were aware it was Bucky’s birthday a few days ago which to your knowledge, was quiet and low-key, but you also knew he wasn’t the kind of guy who would want a party. The party music was just so strange.
You pulled your socks up and adjusted your pajama shirt that had become twisted from your lazy lounging and headed towards the source of the music. It was even louder in the hallway, the floor under your feet shaking from the bass. You saw an agent stagger out from one of the rooms, she was wearing a short, revealing party dress and your curiosity grew stronger.
“What’s going on?” You asked her as she passed you. She looked drunk, and looked like she was about to pass out at any second.
“Bucky… threw one... heck of a party.” She slurred, hiccuping every few seconds and swaying on her feet as she gripped the walls of the hallway for support.
Bucky threw a party? You knew him as this really quiet and reserved guy who liked to read books in the sunniest spot in the common room and be left alone. So to hear he threw a party, it was hard to believe.
The door down the hall slammed twice and Natasha walked out laughing.
“Nat? What is going on? What’s with the loud music?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest, feeling somewhat underdressed.
“Barnes threw a party. Why didn’t you come?” She asked, eyeing you up and down and taking in your sleepwear.
That was such a good question Nat. Maybe because you didn’t even know about the stupid party. Or maybe because Bucky didn’t like you enough to give you an invite? Who knew.
“Because I wasn’t invited.” You told her through gritted teeth.
Natasha frowned and bit her lip. “Maybe he sent the invite in the mail… and it got lost?” She offered, trying to make you feel better.
“How did he invite you?”
“Oh, he uh– he asked me... verbally, a few days ago.”
A few days ago?! What the hell?
“Oh.” You were speechless, and started to feel awkward. Soon enough the door that Natasha came through opened up again, the rest of the avengers pouring out, laughing and having a great time as they joked in the hallway befo disappearing down the hall and into the metal elevator.
It was quite clear to you that Bucky not inviting you was no mistake, it seemed he invited every single human being that lived in the compound, everyone except for you. That was no accident, so then came your next question in your mind: what did you do to him to make him feel like you didn’t deserve an invite? Going to a party wasn’t your style anyway, and you most likely wouldn’t have attended but still it would have been great and appreciated to have been acknowledged by your teammate and someone you thought was a friend.
“You’re overthinking.” Natasha whispered, paying close attention to the way your eyes shift around you. She could see the cog wheels in your head spinning, trying to find any reasonable explanation for Bucky’s reasoning.
“I’m not. I’m just- enjoy the party.” You told her and turned quickly on your heels to head back into the comfort of your room. You didn’t need to be told by a hot spy that you were overthinking, you’d prefer to do it alone.
Your mood to continue watching the movie quickly disappeared. You turned the TV off and crawled under the covers of your lukewarm bed, being embraced by your blanket was a comfort that you needed right now.
“Friday, can you lock my door, please?” Your voice came out shaky and you hated it. You hated how much this bothered you, it wasn’t right and you knew sleep wouldn’t come very easily tonight.
“Yes, Agent Y/L/N.” You sighed as the clicking of the locks echoed in your room. You turned on your side and stared out into the darkness that was peeping through your parted drapes.
Yeah, Agent Romanoff was absolutely right. You were overthinking this but you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when more laughs and hollers could be heard outside. You couldn’t help it when you heard his laugh.
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first name basis
in which only you can call bucky by his first name
word count: 1.6k
a/n: hi bffs !! hope ur all well <33 thank u to this request for this v fluffy fic <333 hope u guys enjoy ! sorry for any typos :P
It was quiet, the soft pattering of raindrops on the window and the city ambiance filled the Brooklyn apartment. It was somewhat empty, but Bucky had said it was just because he had just moved in. You knew he was lying.
The two of you were sat up with your backs against his headboard, scrolling through channels to find something to watch. He had an arm around you, holding you close to him. You were leaning into him, your head lightly resting on his chest.
“there’s never anything good on anymore” bucky grumbled and you smiled.
“you sound like an old man” you chuckled, taking the controller from his hand and flipping through channels, finally settling on some nature documentary about lions.
“i am 106, you know that right?” He teased you and you rolled your eyes, elbowing him lightly and causing him to groan dramatically. His antics made you elbow him even harder, laughing as he pouted at you.
“oh boohoo” you teased him, sticking your tongue out. Bucky gasped, eyes widening at your actions.
“i cant believe you” he frowned, smiling as he tackled you and caused you to fall over, he pinned your hands above your head, looking at you with soft eyes. “you’re gonna pay y/n” he smiled, peppering kisses all over your face before finally gently placing his lips onto yours.
It was a soft and tender kiss, nothing but pure love and sweetness. The kind that you smile into and blush while your lips are still connected, the kind bucky always wanted.
As the two of you pulled away he wasted no time in pulling you to his side, leaning against his headboard and letting your head rest comfortably on his chest. It was quiet, neither of you speaking and just focusing on the lions on tv, occasionally making comments about how cute the cubs were.
“your middle name is actually Buchanan?” You blurted out, causing bucky to jump a bit. He looked at you confused before nodding his head.
“yeah it is, why?” He smiled at your question as you thought silently.
“dunno, it’s just, Buchanan” you giggled and bucky blushed.
“are you making fun of my middle name?” He asked, trying his best to hold back the smile on his face and you shook your head quickly.
“no! i mean, a little bit i guess” you laughed and bucky smiled brightly at you, loving the sound of your laughter.
“i can’t believe you” bucky frowned and you pouted, moving up to kiss his jawline.
“oh angel, you know your middle name doesn’t change a thing between us” he smiled at your words, loving the way you so easily caved. “tell me your full name” you smiled at him, “wanna hear you say it” you giggled and he rolled his eyes before sighing.
“James Buchanan Barnes” he spoke, his voice smooth as he stared at you, a smile on his face when you hummed.
“James” you spoke, the name rolling off your tongue like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. Buckys heart raced, his face flushed and his stomach was in knots. “you know that’s a lot better than buchanan” you teased, craning your neck a bit to look at bucky.
“say it again” he whispered, his heartbeat in his ears as you looked at him confused.
“that your middle name is ridiculous?” you smiled and he shook his head.
“no doll, my name” his voice was soft, just above a whisper.
“James” you repeated the name, smiling at the bashful smile on his face and the way his face flushed as you spoke his name.
“‘t sounds nice when you say it” he mumbled, his face was hot and you scrambled to sit up, cupping his face with one hand and kissing his lips before speaking up.
“well, how about we toss bucky out the window and i call you james, yeah?” You suggested and he nodded, smiling at you before crashing his lips onto yours.
Bucky didn’t know what it was about it. Maybe it’s because you were the only person since steve to make him feel like himself and not like an ex assassin. Maybe it’s because you helped remind of who he was, not the winter soldier but James Barnes. Maybe it was the way you said his name and it sounded as sweet and smooth as honey. Bucky didn’t know and he didn’t really care much, he just knew he only wanted you to call him that.
“hey guys!” You smiled as you and bucky walked into the compound hand in hand, giving the team a small wave before you and bucky headed into the kitchen.
There was some big game on tonight and the team was having a watch party, everyone gathered into the living room excited as they watched some pregame stuff. You and bucky were working in the kitchen, you had offered to make dinner so you wouldn’t have to pay an absurd amount for some takeout.
The sound of the tv was quieter and you and bucky were quick to take out all the ingredients needed from the kitchen, placing them on the counter. Bucky loved helping you cook so the two of you moved easily together in the kitchen.
Sam and steve walked into the kitchen, smiling as they saw you cooking, the smell of the food in the air.
“you guys need any help?” Sam asked, looking at how easily you and bucky handed things off to each other.
“could you help set the table up? the forks and spoons are over there” you smiled and Sam nodded, grabbing the stack and handing the forks to steve. “James can you pass me some of the salt please?” You asked, not thinking twice, bucky handed it to you with no hesitation.
Steve and Sam were grounded in their spots, shock on their faces as they processed your words.
“did- did you just call him James?” Steve asked, brows furrowed at you. You smiled at him and chuckled, completely confused as to why it was such a big deal.
“yeah, why? I do it all the time” you shrugged your shoulders, bucky had a bashful grin on his face, grabbing some cups and shoving his friends away and towards the table. Steve and Sam looked at bucky as he set some cups down on the table with them.
“so they can call you James but when i do it i get a knife two inches from my face?” Sam spoke crossing his arms across his chest and frowning at his friend. Bucky rolled his eyes, ignoring him and going to get more cups.
“can you tell everyone the foods ready?” You asked bucky, grabbing the plates and placing three filled with food into his arms. He smiled, kissing your temple before heading to the dining room.
“foods ready!” He called out, you could hear the team cheering as they all sat down around the table, excited to eat.
“james can you come get these please!” You called out, everyone whipping their head around to you.
“wh- James? You call him James?” Rhodey scoffed and you looked at him with furrowed brows.
“well yeah that’s his name isn’t it” you laughed and he nodded quickly.
“i called you that one time and you threatened me” Rhodey spoke and bucky blushed, taking the plates from you quickly and rushing to give everyone food so they would stop talking.
“glad to know I’m not alone” Sam laughed, looked at Rhodey, natasha nodded.
“he told me to not call him that” steve frowned and you felt your face heating up.
You were the only one that called him James. You could feel your heart fluttering as you locked eyes with bucky, smile on your face when he walked over to you to get the plates for you and him.
“didn’t know you were so protective over your name buchanan” you teased and he rolled his eyes, the rest of the team already eating and talking amongst themselves after you told them to hurry and eat before the game started.
Bucky smiled and snaked his arms around your waist, leaning down and kissing you softly, the two of you smiling into the kiss before pulling away.
“only like it when you say it doll” he whispered and you blushed, heart skipping a beat as he kissed your forehead and let go of you, carrying the two plates in his hands and leaving you in the kitchen. You but your lip and smiled, following him quickly and eating with the rest of the team.
While steve and Sam cleaned the table up and tony and peppered filled the dishwasher you cuddled up with bucky on the couch, eyes closing when he ran his fingers through your hair.
“i love you” bucky mumbled and you smiled, “love you so much y/n y/l/n” he spoke, kissing the top of your head.
“and i love you so much james bucky barnes” you whispered, placing a soft kiss to his cheek before cuddling back into his chest, eyes fluttering shut.
His stomach fluttered and his heart skipped a beat. Sure it had been thousands of time that you had spoken his name, calling him james in any and every tone. But everytime he found himself blushing and smiley, he found himself wanting to hear you say it again, and again and again.
Maybe it was because you helped ground him. Or maybe it was because you helped him become himself again.
As bucky looked at your breathing peacefully on his chest, drifting to sleep despite the the cheers from the rest of the team he realized why he loved hearing you say his name.
It brought him back home. And home was here, with you.
It was with you and his family as they watched a game together, huddled together and squished into three sofas.
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#1 for imagine with dads!best friend 😉
So y/n has a crush on her dads best friend, because he’s this big beefy man with charm that makes all the ladies swoon. He’s all she can think about when she is laying there awake at night.
It’s her graduation (or some event) and her dad throws a celebration. Bucky is invited and she’s excited to see him until he shows up at their house with a random woman hanging off his arm. She’s jealous and realizes he’s never going to like her the way she would wants and sneaks off to her room to be alone, until Bucky finds her and they are alone
The Graduation Party
@littlecanadianlani was kind enough to send me over some (immaculate) Dad’s Best Friend! Bucky ideas and I’m so obsessed I think I’ll make them a series of one-shots so I can keep up with my requests at the same time!! Each piece will be a standalone fic rather than a chapter but I’m super excited about this!! 🥰 #2 is also out now! Read it here
I went for a graduation party since I didn’t really get one yet 😅
Pairing: Dad’s Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 4.3K
Summary: Your parents throw you a graduation party but things take a turn when Bucky turns up with a new girlfriend
Warnings: Smut, oral sex (m and f receiving), vaginal sex, fingering, huge age gap (Bucky is maybe around 40, reader is 21), lil angst perhaps? Fluff, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (behave yourselves pls), dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, pet names, coercion (but in the sense that Bucky knows he shouldn’t want his best friend’s daughter. All parties are enthusiastically participating), humping, riding, dumbification
Minors, do not interact
You weren’t sure there was a man more intimidatingly handsome than your dad’s college best friend and he knew it. If tall, dark and handsome was a person, it would be Bucky Barnes with his piercing blue eyes and soft, flushed, pink lips.
He was the definition of a bachelor. Unmarried, no kids, seemingly endless disposable income and from what your dad had told you, a new woman every week. And why shouldn’t he? Married life just didn’t seem to be his thing, settling down might never happen for Bucky and there was nothing wrong with that.
Plus the fact he hadn’t settled had kept your little crush alive. You couldn’t help wondering what it was like to be with a man like Bucky. A man with experience, a man who knew how to actually make love to a woman, rather just offer five minutes of painfully inadequate sex before rolling over and falling asleep, leaving you frustrated and unsatisfied.
It was terrible to admit but countless nights had passed with your hands delving between your thighs, a shiver running over your flushed skin as you imagined how his gruff little groans would sound when you offered yourself up to him. How it would feel to have him slipping into your tight heat until you weren’t sure where his body ended and yours began.
But your little fantasy was all crumbling down around you now, at your own graduation party no less. Bucky had just arrived with a girlfriend. You couldn’t have seen it coming, a tall, beautiful woman hanging off his arm as his dad introduced himself to her.
You couldn’t believe how jealous you were. You were only carrying a school girl crush after all, plain and simple infatuation, it was nothing serious but God, your chest had tightened with discontent seeing how he smiled at her, introducing her to the other guests at your garden party until those charming eyes locked with yours.
“Oh sugar, congratulations on the results! You did amazing!” He beamed proudly, crossing the whole garden to wrap you up in the tightest hug. His body felt huge and comforting, smelling fresh and woodsy and God it would be so easy to get lost in it, lost in him.
“Thank you Bucky!” You couldn’t help the tinge of heat burning in your cheeks as you pulled away.
“Oh angel, you make me feel so old. Can’t believe you’ve graduated college now! You’re so beautiful too, you’re all grown up! But hey, this is Sarah, she’s been dying to meet you!” Bucky grinned, his words making you tingle with longing right up until Sarah was thrust in front of you, your arms wrapping around her before you had a chance to stop yourself.
“It’s so nice to meet you honey, Bucky’s been gushing about how proud he is of you!” Sarah was so lovely. That was even worse. Never mind the fact she was pretty, she was painfully sweet.
“It’s nice to meet you too! Bucky hadn’t mentioned you before. How long have you two been… um…” you questioned softly, not really knowing their situation
“Dating? A few weeks now. No needa be shy honey, I don’t mind answerin’ your questions.” Bucky’s confident smirk made your stomach churn. The whole time you’d known Bucky, he’d never been this open about being in a relationship. In fact, Sarah was the first actual girlfriend you knew of. You could feel your smile faltering, your little crush being dashed before your eyes.
“Oh shit, we should go say hi to your mom, talk to you later okay?” Bucky grinned, gently lifting Sarah’s hand in his own once more and heading off to find your mother.
You needed to get away. You needed to get out of the crowd before the angry, frustrated tears that were prickling your eyes spilled over. It was stupid, childish and you knew that but it didn’t make it any easier, knowing you’d never compare to this beautiful woman in Bucky’s eyes. No one stopped you as you made your way to your room, the wooden door slamming behind you while you flopped onto the bed, face buried in the pillow.
You had no idea how long had passed before you heard the door creak open again.
“Baby, you in here?” The familiar voice sent longing straight through you, the sickly feeling nestling in your chest. At the sound of Bucky, you pulled your head up out of the pillow, thankful you had managed not to cry.
Bucky looked so damn concerned.
“Oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He questioned softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, face flooded with worry.
“Nothin’ Bucky, just didn’t feel great. Where’s Sarah?” You asked, running a hand through your hair, the hem of your little sundress ghosting the top of your knees.
“Oh she went home.” Bucky laughed, the low chuckle erupting from his throat.
“What’s so funny?” You quizzed gently, watching his expression as he turned to look at you.
“Say nothin’ okay? Your dad and I made a bet a few years ago. Bet me fifty bucks that I wouldn’t have a girlfriend by the time you were graduating. Sarah’s my neighbour, she volunteered to play along when I was tellin’ her bout you last week.” Bucky’s admission made your heart swell for so many reasons. He wasn’t settling down. Sarah wasn’t his, he wasn’t taken and fuck, he told his neighbour about you?
“Oh…. So you’re not… Dating?” Damn your curiosity, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you had considered how they would sound.
“Not dating anyone, sugar. Why? Ya getting jealous of Sarah?” He teased, working out that he was spot on when you couldn’t meet his gaze. You were jealous of Sarah. You did want to be her. You could feel how your cheeks were burning ferociously, the room suddenly far too hot despite the evening breeze drifting in the open window.
“Oh angel, don’t tell me a delicate, innocent little thing like you wants someone like me.” His words made you impossibly hotter, your skin only getting hotter under his intense gaze.
“If I didn’t know better honey, I’d think you were jealous of Sarah. You wanna be my girl, huh? I’d only ruin you princess. Don’t wanna do that, wouldn’t be right.” Bucky could hardly contain himself. Your blush gave you away entirely. You did want him. You wanted to be ruined, pinned to the bed and fucked until you couldn’t cum anymore but he needed you to admit it. Needed to hear it out loud before he could give in.
“Tell me you want it angel. Tell me you wanna be treated right. Tell me how bad that little pussy needs a real man to take care of it.” Fuck, how had his voice dropped an entire octave? It was coming out as more of a low rumble, sexy and deep and delicious. The heat on your skin danced it’s way to your core, nestling in your tummy in a way that made your insides squirm.
“Fuck Bucky, I need it. Need you to t-treat me right.” You couldn’t even consider that he might be messing with you, so highly strung from need that it couldn’t even be a possibility. No, you needed this too badly now. Your fingers just wouldn’t compare to what you knew Bucky could offer.
“Fuck this is so wrong.” He hissed, hands fisting your bedsheets to hold himself back.
“Oh Buck, just once?” You suggested quietly, setting a hand on his clothed thigh. His eyes scrunched tightly shut at the contact, willing himself not to look. Not to feel you touching him. Your hand looked so tiny on his leg and you just wished he would open his eyes to see it.
“Careful angel, you don’t wanna do this.” He couldn’t bear to look at you. He couldn’t let himself. He knew that when the dam inside him broke, there would be no going back.
“Oh but I do Bucky. Wanted to do this for years.” His resolve was weakening, huge frame almost trembling at the thought of being buried so deep in your tight little body.
“Baby, it’s so wrong.” He was losing it as your fingertips trailed higher up his thigh. He could tell you had shifted closer without having to look at you, your breath tickling his neck from how close you were. He could smell your shampoo and your perfume but most of all, he could feel your confidence that was now seeping out of every pore, clearly emboldened by seeing the effect you were having on him and fuck, did he find it sexy.
“You know what’s ‘wrong’ Buck? How long it’s been since a man fucked me right. Bet you could change that though, couldn’t you? Bet you could make me feel so good. Two of my little fingers just don’t fill me the way I know you could. Such a tight squeeze, you have no idea. So warm and wet Buck, bet even you would struggle to last.” Where in the hell was all this confidence coming from? Half of you didn’t even care and after hearing the growl that came from Bucky, you knew he was loving it as much as you were.
“Oh fuck honey, you can’t say shit like that. Can’t fuckin’ handle it. Makes me wonder how filthy that little mouth can get.” His breathing was heavy and irregular, leaning into your lips on his neck, eyes still squeezed firmly shut.
“You wanna find out Buck? Wanna find out how good my mouth can make you feel?” Fuck he had lost it. The band inside him snapped, grabbing you by your thighs to pull you messily onto his lap, lips on yours in an instant. There was no finesse or practice to it, just two people, consumed by need, trying to relieve some tension but finding that making out had the exact opposite effect. You were both only becoming needier. Huge hands wandered over your body, the kiss becoming fiercer and more intense, fingers gripping hungrily at any exposed skin either of you could reach.
“Jesus, oh Bucky.” The little cry had slipped from your lips, muffled by Bucky’s own lips on yours.
“Oh god angel, we shouldn’t be doin’ this.” Bucky hissed quietly, removing his shirt nonetheless. He was so keen he could hardly keep up with himself but his head still told him he shouldn’t want this as much as he did.
“Do you wanna stop? Too old to keep up with me?” You teased him with a flirtatious roll of your hips over his crotch and you could’ve swore you heard an actual growl leave his throat.
“Was thinkin’ for your sake angel. Don’t think you’ll handle what I’m gonna make you feel. You won’t want anyone but me to touch you ever again. You ready for that honey? For your own fingers to not be able to give you the same relief I can?” God it all sounded so appealing falling from his mouth, his tone laced with nothing but sex.
The mewl that left your body was borderline embarrassing, Bucky gripping the hem of your dress and pulling it over your head in one swift motion. He hadn’t expected that one action to leave you bare in front of him. He could feel his mouth hanging open, drinking in the sight of you in his lap. The swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the endless expanse of soft skin, begging to be kissed and held and loved before you pressed your lips hungrily to his, ridding him of his jeans as quickly as possible.
“You’re fuckin’. Beautiful.” Bucky could only gasp the words out between kisses, both his hands charting a path up your naked body after you slotted comfortably onto his lap again. The skin on skin felt incredible, not to mention his cock lying between his legs, heavy and thick and begging for attention.
“Wanna be selfish for a second Buck.” You whispered, pushing him back flat on the bed. You couldn’t help yourself, reaching between your bodies, pressing his thick cock flush with his tummy before spreading your slick folds, setting yourself down on his bare dick. A strangled cry left the large man as you rocked yourself back and forth, spreading your wetness over him. Your clit dragged over his sensitive head, pulling a groan from both of you. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding your movements and fuck, you looked like a goddess above him, breathy sighs slipping from you, using his body for your own pleasure.
There was something about it, seeing you so bold and confident, taking what you needed from him that made him even harder.
“Oh God Bucky.” You whined, pressing yourself down harder ever so slightly.
“That’s it angel, keep goin’. Fuck you’re just gettin’ wetter. You look so pretty and dumb like this, ruttin’ on my cock. That smart little brain just turned to mush now you’ve got a nice big cock to play with? All that education but your pretty little head just stops workin’ when you needa cum, is that it?” You didn’t expect Bucky to be so vulgar in bed, especially not with you but you were loving it.
“Fuck you feel so good.” You gasped, taking in his lazy smirk as you worked yourself on him.
“Think you could cum like this honey? Or do you wanna come sit on my face for me?” His words pulled a gasp from you because yes, you really did want to sit on his face. How could you refuse an offer like that?
So you shuffled up the bed, settling on Bucky’s face.
“Put your weight on me honey, I won’t break.” Bucky laughed, noticing how you couldn’t possibly be comfortable just hovering above his face. Pressing down a little more, he chuckled at how you were still reluctant to put your whole weight on him.
“Like this angel.” He smiled before gripping your thighs to press you the whole way down on him, beginning to lap at your pussy with long, broad strokes of his tongue straight away.
Fuck his tongue worked miracles, slipping between your folds while his nose nuzzled your clit. You’d never been eaten so intensely before, whimpers escaping you while Bucky sucked and licked and bit at the most sensitive part of your body.
When his lips connected with your clit, you almost wanted to squirm away from the insane amount of stimulation. His lips wrapped around the swollen bud, tongue flicking over it while he moaned sinfully, holding you against his mouth with one arm wrapped around each of your thighs. There was no escaping his mouth, hot and wet and trained only on driving you into blinding pleasure. Your hands fisted in his hair, helping you to ride his face while Bucky devoured you.
The knot in your tummy was tightening, fuelled by Bucky’s moans at how good you tasted.
You were so close, curses and pants of Bucky’s name spilling from you like a prayer and when Bucky’s eyes opened, looking up at you, a content hum left his throat.
That hum shattered you, the vibration on your clit driving you over the edge and if Bucky thought you looked like a goddess before, you certainly did now. He completely admired you, taking in how your back arched, how your head flung back, hips grinding against his face while one hand left his hair to tease your own nipples and God, that cry of his name made his cock throb painfully.
“Oh oh, Bucky please.” You whimpered, struggling in his grip when your body told you he had given you too much.
“You sound so sexy when you beg, you know that?” Bucky smirked, letting you go so you could pull yourself from his face, tumbling on the bed.
“Not just as sexy as you sound when you cum, but close.” His dusting of stubble was shiny with your slick and you struggled to think of a more attractive sight than his beautiful man that had effortlessly dragged an orgasm from you, lazily stroking his own cock to the sight of you naked in front of him.
“I can do both for you if you want. I’ll gladly beg if you make me cum like that again.” One orgasm like that couldn’t satisfy you, not now that you’d had a taste of real pleasure. Besides, you hadn’t even had a chance to feel his cock inside you yet.
“Shit angel, I’d love that, havin’ such a sweet little girl on her knees beggin’ for me. Fuck, you might be the death of me, you know that?” Bucky fisted his cock a little faster at the thought up until you shuffled off the bed and onto the floor, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His eyes went wide as you looked up at him expectantly, perching himself on the edge of the bed to watch you.
“Is this what you want? Want this big cock angel?” He cooed softly, not taking his eyes off you. You couldn’t tear your attention away from his swollen tip, head slick with precum, begging to be lapped up.
“Please Bucky, please lemme take care of you.” You whispered, offering him huge wide eyes and plump lips, longing to be parted by his dick.
“You can do better than that honey. If you want this, you gotta earn it. Ask a bit nicer.” He had every right to be so cocky after eating you like that so you indulged him a little.
“Please Bucky, can’t think of anything else. Needa feel you.” You whined. “Just lemme taste you Bucky, please, thought about this for so long. Thought about gagging on your cock like a good little girl, thought about you fucking my face.”
“And did you touch yourself while you thought of me?” Bucky asked, leaning back on the arm that wasn’t stroking his cock, giving you a chance to take in his tight abs.
The shame almost make you feel light headed, admitting to your deepest secret.
“Good girl. This pussy belongs to me now, okay? You feel like touching yourself, you text me.” Want and need surged inside you at Bucky’s promise of this little arrangement continuing but you almost lost it when he leaned forward, pressing a hand to the back of your head, guiding you over and onto his cock. Your lips parted and wrapped around him of their own accord, letting him slip into your mouth. The slightly salty taste of his precum made your pussy throb, your tongue running over his slit, collecting every last drop.
“Oh Jesus.” Bucky managed to hiss, one of your hands wrapping around the base while you forced your head down further.
“Where did you learn this shit angel? Fuckin’ filthy, you know that? Thought you wanted to be a good girl but this mouth says otherwise. All mine now though, aren’t ya? This mouth only sucks my cock from now on.” You hummed in approval, dragging another hiss from Bucky, thrusting himself deeper into your throat.
You pressed your head down until he hit the back of your throat and God, the strangled cry that left him was pornographic, low and wanton and pained, like he was holding himself back, trying so hard not to fuck your face recklessly.
“Feel so good baby.” He whimpered, pressing you down until you gagged around him. The noise, coupled with the sudden tightening made him almost feral, a loud grunt from him inspiring you to work your hand faster on his base.
“Oh fuck, I can’t take much more angel, ‘m so close.” He whimpered, thighs trembling, ready to paint the back of your throat at any second. You sped up your movements, bobbing your head in time with your hand, tight and sloppy and noisy before Bucky pulled you off him, squeezing his hand tight around his own base.
“Can’t cum yet baby, fuck, needa feel that pussy first. Know you needa be taken care of.” You certainly weren’t going to argue with that. When he was sure he had held off his orgasm, he let go of his cock, arranging you on your hands and knees on the edge of the bed, stepping up behind you. His dick pressed to your entrance, gathering slick until he slowly began to press himself into you, inch by inch.
“God, you’re big.” You whimpered, fingers gripping the sheets, arching your back to allow him to push in with less resistance.
“Fuck, feels good. God, can’t believe I’m fuckin’ inside you. Can’t believe a sweet little thing like you is so cock obsessed. Gotta say, I’m lovin’ this side of you honey. Even lettin’ me fuck you raw? This little pussy jus’ wants to be filled. S’okay, I’ll fill you up nicely.” He had sank the whole way into you, allowing you a few seconds to adjust to the stretch before you took charge and began to move, inching forward, then back onto his cock, almost hoping he wouldn’t notice how needy you were.
“You that horny? Can’t even wait for me to fuck you so you gotta do it yourself?” His tone was condescending, almost dripping with pride that he had reduced you to such a mess so quickly.
“Bucky, so fuckin’ horny, please. Please give it to me. Just fuck me.” You couldn’t have possibly cared that you sounded like a whiney mess. It didn’t matter that you sounded obsessed, all that mattered was feeling Bucky finally start to move.
“Oh kitten, you’ve gone all cock drunk on me? Silly baby can’t think of anythin’ but cummin’ round me. Tha’s okay, guess I can forgive you this time. You were so worked up earlier after all, seein’ me with someone else. All yours now honey. Gotta make this pretty pussy feel special.” Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head when he gripped your hips and pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you again, beginning to set a decent pace.
You hadn’t expected his cock to pound your g-spot right away but you guessed it helped to be with a man who knew what he was looking for, unlike anyone you’d been with before.
“R-right there Bucky, oh fuck, I can’t.” You whined, keening against the bed so he could press painfully deep inside you with each thrust.
“You can’t what honey? Can’t handle it? Can’t get enough? Can’t hold back?” His suggestions all came in that confident tone because he knew you couldn’t answer. He was fucking you senseless, each thrust driving every thought from your head.
“Can’t hold back, fuck.” You whimpered, knowing your orgasm would be seconds away. But on the next thrust, everything stopped. Bucky didn’t push back in, sinking to his knees instead with a groan, level with your pussy. Two fingers slipped effortlessly inside you, curling in a way that you could hardly handle while his lips sucked your clit. You were done for, pussy clenching around his digits while the dragged you through your high, tongue lapping at your clit for all he was worth. You were gushing on his face, you knew it and you didn’t care, mumbling little ‘thank yous’ and praises as you rode out your high. You could hear the slick noises of Bucky fisting his cock in his other hand, tight and relentless, still wet from your pussy.
“Good girl honey, bet that felt good.” He whispered when your high had ebbed away, pressing his cock back inside you, fucking you fiercely once more. The wet sounds of his thrusts into you were horrendously loud but then again, so were his grunts as he chased his own release. You were on cloud nine, feeling fucked out and euphoric but delighted that Bucky still wanted to finish inside you.
“Cum for me Bucky, please please fill me up. Wanna be your good little fuck bunny. Wanna feel your cum leakin’ out of me.” You knew he would love it if you used a little pleading tone but you didn’t realise just how effective it would be. A few more hard thrusts had Bucky’s hips stuttering, cum spilling inside you. The groan that left Bucky was mesmerising, clinging to your body while he spilled his seed inside you.
“Jesus I don’t remember the last time I came that hard.” Bucky murmured in more of a relaxed chuckle, kissing down your spine before pulling out of you slowly, grabbing a washcloth from your dresser so you could clean yourself up.
“I’ve never cum that hard before.” You giggled gleefully, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, still faintly tasting yourself on them.
“We should get back to the party but we should do this again sometime. I meant what I said honey, you’re mine now.” It was such a change seeing Bucky so sheepish but it was quite pleasant at the same time. You didn’t even know this side of him existed up until now.
“And you’re… Mine?” You questioned softly after pulling your dress on again, straightening it out as much as possible.
“All yours angel. Maybe we shouldn’t be too open ‘bout it just yet though.” He laughed, admiring the little flush of your cheeks and the twinkle in your eye.
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Don't Give Up On Me
𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: You stole his plum one spring day. Then his heart. You can keep both as long as you promise to love him and not give up on him.
Gif courtesy of @geezumarts
𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: TFAWS Bucky Barnes X Reader
𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 2.5K
𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Smidge of Angst, Heaping of fluff
𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘢’𝘥 by the talented @sweeterthanthis and @whisperlullaby but 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯
Written for @book-dragon-13
Do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post any parts of my stories.𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 (𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵)
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You stole the last plum.
You met the man of your dreams because you stole the last plum.
A brisk spring breeze had picked up around the small, noisy marketplace, flyers fluttering as the wind moved around you, people chatting and laughing as they held down loose items.
Bringing your hood over your head, you tucked your phone between your ear and shoulder. Distracted by your best friend asking when you were coming home, you had inadvertently snatched the slightly bruised purple fruit from his gloved hand.
Bucky coughed, clearing his throat to ask for it back, his words fizzling in his throat when you turned to him. His mouth parted in shock and wonder when his mesmerizing blue eyes connected with yours.
The world stopped, faded into the background. For a second, all you could hear was his quiet breathing. All you could see were his eyes, guarded under the rim of his black cap. Hauntingly beautiful, full of secrets that only you would uncover.
Then your phone slipped to the pavement with a clatter, and the world spun again, the spell broken. You held out your arm, his eyes dropping to the little fruit wobbling on your open palm.
“Keep it.” He spoke, his tone gravelly, a slight hesitation as if he hadn’t spoken in a while, “I can come back tomorrow.” His voice deepened with each word. You knew then his voice would become one of your favorite sounds.
“No, no, you had it first. I’m sorry, I can come back tomorrow,“ you insist.
After a few more minutes of both of you each trying to get the other to take the overripe fruit, the vendor leaned over her cart with a knowing grin. “Son, why don’t you share it with the pretty girl and you both come back tomorrow, I’ll hide my best ones for you.”
When you started to shake your head, she stopped you with a look that said ‘shut up I’m trying to help you,’ her eyes cutting from your face to him. “And I won’t sell to either of you unless you show up together.”
To this day, you won’t know what possessed you to say that he could join you on the bench next to the cathedral two blocks down, but when he smiled at you, slowly at first as if that was another thing he hadn’t done in a while, you were happy you did.
He scooped up your phone, checking it for damage, following you down the uneven cobblestone path.
“Bucky.” You look over at him with a tilt of your head. And he smiles again, more a grin this time, a little wider with a flash of white teeth. It looks good on him. “Sorry, my name is Bucky.”
You had your first date on an old rickety bench under a cloudy Romanian sky. He cut the plum in half, the small knife appearing out of thin air, any other person you would have been on edge, but there was something about the way he gently and carefully sliced it before handing you the much bigger half, with juices dripping over his black leather glove.
Hours must have passed on that bench. You shared your life stories, explaining how you ended up in this city. He tiptoed around questions about how he got here and his family, but his eyes brightened when he talked about his time here, how he tried a little of everything from the market to figure out what was his favorite. He loved the small thrift shop next to his home, and he rescued a stray cat two weeks ago. Time passed too quickly that day and soon you were reluctantly saying goodbye, his eyes wistfully watching you walk away.
You weren’t expecting to see him the next day, or at least that’s what you told yourself in front of the mirror staring at your ninth change of clothes in thirty minutes. If you had known you were going to run into someone like him, you definitely would have bought something other than plain t-shirts and jeans.
Little did you know that you could have shown up in actual rags and he would have still thought you looked beautiful. Or that he has rummaged through every outfit he owned, even stopping by the thrift shop to buy cologne.
A few more dates spent on the bench, walking along the cobblestone paths, going nowhere with Bucky as your guide.
Little by little you discovered each other, you knew there was something holding him back but for now; you were content with what he shared. Until one day, the sky darkened suddenly, ominous gray clouds rolling over the crystal blue sky, rain pouring down as thunder boomed overhead.
He shrugged off his jacket, using it to cover your head, “come with me,” he yelled over the drum of rain smacking the ground.
He led you down the street, turning a few corners until you reached an old building, it's exterior worn by time and weather. He held open the front door, his arm around your shoulder as he ushered you inside.
Glancing around the dimly lit entryway, you see a pair of mailboxes built into the wall behind you, the tall staircase to your right. The muted sound of rain pattering on the front door is the only sound in the quiet building.
“My place is on the fourth floor,” he offers, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Or we can, uh, stay down here if you want,” he rushes out, his words trailing off, his blue eyes staring at the faded brown carpet beneath his boots. Bucky falls silent, chewing his bottom lip nervously.
“Hey,” you say softly, letting his jacket hang around your shoulders, hints of cedar and vanilla clinging to the heavy leather, “I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”
You tug his hand out of his pocket and intertwine your fingers with a gentle smile. Bucky glances up at you, a matching smile, dazzling and honeyed all at once. His hand settled on your back, taking you up the stairs, his eyes flitting back to your face every few steps as if he couldn’t believe you were here with him.
He let you into the small apartment, hovering behind you while you look around. You hear him take a deep breath in and you spin around holding up your hand.
“Don’t apologize for your place, okay?” you assert, more than ask as you take a step towards him, “I don’t care, I’m happy to be here with you.”
“I-I thank you,” he sighs in relief. Bucky had hoped to earn enough from the odd jobs he had to save up for something a little better, wanting to have a nicer home to bring you to one day. Your acceptance of him, all of him, has been chipping away at the armor around his heart until there is nothing left but you.
You dry off in the small bathroom, putting on the too-large maroon Henley and shorts he set on the edge of the sink. Putting your clothes over the shower rod to dry, you step back out, watching him make tea.
“I hope you like it, I got it from Daria,” he says over his shoulder.
You sit on the small taupe couch, pulling your knees up to your chest. He shuffles from the old white fridge back to the stove, wiping his hands off on the floral kitchen towel. His gloves discarded on the counter beside him. You wonder if he even realizes he removed them.
Bucky sits beside you balancing two small mugs in his hands, you touch his metal wrist with your fingers. He stiffens beside you, swallowing thickly. You remove your cup from his hand and take a small sip. “You know it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you say aloud.
His frightened, anxious gaze fixated on the wall ahead.
You turn to him, your knees pushing into the side of his thigh, “and sometimes when it’s hot outside you brush your hair off your neck, like this,” you sweep your hand across his skin, “and your sleeve moves down.”
His head jerks around, his cup shaking in his hand, you press your palm against his bearded cheek, “I’ve known since our second date,” you say in response to the question in his eyes, “I’m guessing you served in the army or had an accident, whatever happened to your arm is nothing to be ashamed of Bucky.”
Waiting for him to speak, you finish your tea. After a few minutes, he whispers, “There was an accident.”
You stay silent, placing your hand on his, squeezing his fingers. He glances down, bringing your hand up to place a kiss on the back of it. Standing up, he walks to the fridge and pulls a notebook off the top. He settles beside you, quietly putting it on your lap.
As you flip through the pages, he tells you about his life, starting from when he was Bucky to his time as the Soldat, to being whatever patched up version of himself he was today.
There’s a comfortable silence, the rain tapping at the windows, the room awash in a dull glow from a single lamp. Resting your head on his shoulder, you listen as he speaks earnestly; the words pouring out of him. His heart pounding in his chest until he was sure it would burst.
When he stops, out of breath from long-forgotten emotions and painful memories, “I love you, I shouldn’t, it’s too dangerous to be around me and maybe I’m being selfish because I don’t want you to leave,” he confesses, revealing his final secret.
You sit up, moving away for a second. His heart stutters but before it can break, you’re straddling his thighs, holding his face in your hands; wiping away tears he didn’t know had fallen with your thumbs.
You don’t know what to say in a moment like this. Not with him looking sorrowful, contrite, and frightened. It’s the fear in his eyes that hurts you the most. That after everything he’s survived, he’s frightened that you’ll fear him, leave him here in his little home, alone.
There are no words, none you can find right now, to say how you feel, to describe how much you’ve fallen in love with him.
So you kiss him.
A soft sweep of your lips against his chapped ones, moving back and forth until his lips part. He leans into you, his hand cupping the back of your head, deepening the kiss, his tongue tracing the inside of your mouth before retreating, leaving behind the distinct taste of cinnamon and him.
And you kiss him again.
Peppering brief chaste kisses over his closed eyelids, down his jaw, over the corners of his mouth. When he relaxes, bringing you closer, you whisper, repeating your words from earlier, “I don’t care, I’m happy to be here with you.”
You spend the night like that; him holding you in his arms, assuring him you won’t leave him, that you love him. When the skies clear, he feels whole again.
The weeks that follow are filled with happiness and love, he believes he can build a life with you, have a future with you by his side.
But fate has other plans for him.
There’s always a fight, and somehow he’s dragged into it. After the bombing, he sent you away, vowing to find you once it’s safe again.
“Hey, doll, this isn’t goodbye,” he promises, resting his forehead on yours. “I will come back for you. Please wait for me, I will come back”
“You’d better, Bucky.”
Time passes, painfully slow without him. He breaks his promise.
He didn’t come back for you.
And when he knew he couldn’t do it on his own, he did the next best thing. Trusting only one other person to find you for him.
Steve showed up at your door one night, explaining he was a friend of Bucky's. That’s all you needed to hear, he had barely finished speaking before you had your coat on, saying you were ready to go. You were the first person he saw when they brought him out of cryogenesis.
It wasn’t easy, the first few months out of the chamber were difficult for him, part of him convinced he would always have a monster inside of him. You remained optimistic, trusting in Shuri who worked tirelessly to find a cure, your faith in her unwavering despite test after test ending with him reverting to the Winter Soldier.
He hated for you to see that side, but you loved him unconditionally. Throughout it all, it was you who kept him going, giving him the strength to withstand another experiment, another day with that living inside his head.
And then one night, while preparing for bed, Ayo knocked on your door. “It is time,” she said, her striking eyes relaying her excitement.
You could feel the tension rolling off Bucky. He turned to you and you raised your hand, covering his mouth. “I’m coming with you and not even she could stop me.”
Ayo gives you an amused look, sizing you up. You returned it, your gaze is unwavering and fierce. “She’s right, this is the only battle I could see myself losing,” Ayo winks at you, “let’s go.”
During the ride up the mountainside, Bucky pleads with you to turn around and leave him. You ignore him, holding his hand while you look at the blur of greens and browns passing you. Resting your head on his shoulder, you smile up at the night sky.
Bucky refuses to let you sit beside him, begging you to at least sit across from him, making Ayo swear to protect you if something goes wrong. He won’t sit until you both agree to his demands.
Nervous energy pulsates in the night air. You can feel your heart beating, you know this is going to work; you know it. Placing your elbows on your knees, you observe Bucky staring into the crackling fire, his jaw clenched.
You want to hold him, but he’s so scared of what might happen.
You listen to the exchange between him and Ayo. You make eye contact with her and nod. She recites the first three words, stepping closer to Bucky.
His eyes shut and he sees you, only you. Smiling at him as you bite into that plum, holding his hand at night, your head on his chest, listening to him plan your future together. Dancing in his apartment, bumping into his couch over and over until you're both laughing.
You promise you'll wait for him, giving him one more kiss before stepping on to the train.
Tears fall from his tormented eyes, his lips move but you can’t hear over the sound of your voice chanting ‘it’s going to work’ in your head.
You gaze at him, knowing your Bucky is going to be there. He has to be, you won’t accept anything less.
Bucky looks up in disbelief. He’s still your Bucky. He’s in control.
“You’re free,” Ayo states, her kind voice washing over him.
Bucky looks to you, openly weeping, his cheeks flushed. Too many emotions overwhelming him. He’s free and you’re safe.
He can keep you in his life, he has a chance, a real chance, to be the man you deserve. His mouth opens, but no words come out. He can’t speak, not trusting his voice.
His eyes tell you everything.
You run to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His head drops to your shoulder, you whisper, “I’m so proud of you, I love you so much.”
His grip tightens, bringing you closer to him, you’re all he needs right now. He breathes you in, listening to you say you love him over and over until his heart is bursting in his chest. “I love you too,” he chokes out, his voice wobbling as more tears form, ones of relief and joy.
He’s free, truly free.
Under the clear night sky, with you in his arms, he knows peace for the first time. You didn’t give up on him; you stayed by his side when others left him. It was you that kept him from breaking, holding the pieces of him together with your love and strength.
“I dreamed of you every night,” he confides, kissing the top of your head. “Flashes, hazy pictures really, mostly of you.”
A pause as he clears his throat again. “Sometimes you and me in a house, a simple life together.”
Another pause, longer this time, you look up with an encouraging smile. “Once in a while, I would dream of you holding our baby,” his hopeful confession warms your heart
Now he can believe that his dreams are going to come true someday. You rest your hand on your belly, knowing that it’s going to happen soon than he thinks.
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Summary: You and Bucky get trapped overnight in the safe house after a mission. Everything should be okay, except he's your ex and thanks to his carelessness, the situation gets a little more complicated.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 7,887
Warnings: Smut (sex pollen, slightly dub-con only due to the circumstances but both parties are consenting, fingering, vaginal penetration). Swearing. Angst with a happy ending. (18+ only please).
A/N: This is my submission for @saiyanprincessswanie 2.5k follower challenge. I chose the trope sex pollen. Congratulations, Missy!! You deserve all the love and all the followers. You are truly such an amazing person. Anyways, hope you enjoy this! It was my first time writing sex pollen so hopefully it isn’t awful 😅 Happy reading! 💜💜
A blur of white crystalline flecks swirls against the dark backdrop of nightfall, a taunting dance as you watch through a small window of the safe house. Staring dumbly, you helplessly watch as thick layers of snow blankets over the wooded area. On any other given night you’d find the scene beautiful, mesmerizing even, but not tonight, because this is not how things were supposed to go.
The mission was supposed to take a few hours. A simple in and out plan; get the intel and anything else seemingly worth of value, engage only if needed, and get home. Getting stuck overnight at the safe house was not part of the plan, but it seemed Mother Nature had other ideas when she decided to conjure up the biggest snow storm Eastern Europe has seen in years.
“Fuck me,” you grumble with a sigh, hands perched on your hips.
“As you wish,” a voice from behind replies in a teasing tone.
The comment elicits another sigh, a deeper one this time, full of frustration at the situation and annoyance for who you’re stuck with. Turning on the ball of your foot, you shoot daggers at your partner before rolling your eyes.
Bucky laughs at your exasperation, and it only spurs his teasing on more.
“Could be worse,” he muses, kneeling down in front of the old fireplace. He quickly gets to work on placing a few logs in the center, dousing them with lighter fluid and igniting a match. The room is instantly bathed in a warm, yellow glow.
“No,” you remark sternly, “It cannot be worse. This is my literal nightmare.” Each word is punctuated with the rough shrill of velcro coming undone as you walk away from the window. The sound slices through the air, along with the clicks of buckles before you remove your tactile vest completely and toss it harshly onto the worn couch in the middle of the room. “And to top it all off, tonight is date night.”
“Oh, date night?” Bucky asks in a mocking tone, complete with a faux puppy-dog pout.
Your leather gloves are ripped off your hands and slammed onto a small table by the couch, evidence of your dwindling patience. “Shut up.”
“What?” He chuckles, clearly enjoying the irritation emanating from you. “I just don’t understand what you see in the guy.” He casually walks over to the wooden dining table that sits off to the side.
Another ice cold stare, irritation hardening your jaw and the corners of your eyes. “Enough.”
This time, Bucky rolls his eyes and mumbles something under his breath you don’t quite catch. He turns around to begin sorting through the documents the two of you recovered from the Hydra base.
Gently chewing on the inside of your cheek, you take a moment to watch him and wonder how the two of you ended up here—and you don’t mean snowed in and trapped in a safe house for the night.
The bitter wall of resentment that’s been built up between you over time has left you emotionally drained and, if you’re being honest, deeply hurt. It wasn’t always this way, though. At one time, Bucky was your sole source of all things love and happiness, but he’s always known exactly what buttons to push.
Being partners stuck in a safe house is one thing. Being exes and stuck in a safe house is a whole different ballpark.
You now wish you would’ve agreed with Steve’s initial hesitancies to send you and Bucky on this mission alone, despite your reassurance you’ve both managed to maintain a professional relationship. Which is true.
Flashbacks to the earlier mission attest to that—your seamless fighting styles and communication haven’t been affected by the fallout of your relationship. Each mission is completed smoothly and efficiently with as little damage taken as possible. If only the two of you managed to figure out how to make it work outside the field, too.
“Hey,” Bucky’s voice brings you back to the present, “are you gonna help me with this? I”m not doing all this paperwork by myself.”
“Yes, I’m gonna help,” you grumble, marching over to him and snatching the paper he holds. “I want this done before we leave so we don’t have to worry about it when we get back.” You plop down into a chair, pulling out a Stark tablet from one of the black duffle bags, and begin the tedious task of documenting the details of the mission.
“And why is that?” Bucky questions nonchalantly, taking the seat across from you. “So you can go see what’s-his-face the second we get back?” He leans back in the chair, interlacing his fingers and placing his hands behind his head.
“You know his name,” you reply flatly, not even bothering to spare him a glance.
“Oh, right, Todd.”
Finally, you look up to him from the tablet you hold. “What is your problem with him?” You ask, frustration lacing around the syllables, but there’s a hint of genuine curiosity hidden between the words.
“No problem,” Bucky replies smoothly with a shoulder shrug. “I just don’t think he’s good enough for you.” He holds your stare, daring you to look away as he speaks with conviction.
There’s a slight quirk to your brow, a sardonic laugh falling from your lips at his words. “What? And you were?”
Bucky’s hands fall to his lap, a tight clench growing in his jaw as he sighs deeply through his nose. He holds your gaze for a moment longer, serious and slightly sad, before he drops it to the table and responds, “Let’s just finish this.”
An hour or so passes, and you’re only halfway through the post-mission reports. You’ve silently cursed Steve for sending you on this mission only once or twice, but you’ve lost count of the times you’ve cursed SHIELD and their repetitive documentation. Bucky, in his typical fashion, has been minimal help with the true detailing of the mission happenings; usually only offering elaborate recalls of his super human abilities.
“You did not take down five Hydra agents with one bullet,” you comment evenly, continuing to type and ignoring his false recounts.
“Sure I did,” he responds. He sits back in the small wooden chair, propping his feet on the table as he tosses a small vial in his hands. “You were looking the other way.”
You suppress an eye roll, placing the tablet onto the table. “Stop fucking around before you break something,” you snap, fed up with his uselessness.
“Will you relax,” he replies calmly. “I’m not going to—“ but the rest of that sentence gets stuck in the back of his throat as he overshoots a toss and misses the glass cylinder.
It all happens in an instant—the vial catches on the tips of Bucky’s fingers, both jumping to your feet, yelling to not let it break. But as the vial crashes to the floor, the red liquid inside spilling onto the aged wooden floorboards, it feels like time slows to a complete standstill.
Silence settles over the cabin then. The faint crackling of the fire is the only noise as you and Bucky stare in shock at the small pool of scarlet. Waiting for something, anything to happen, but nothing comes.
“What the fuck, Bucky?!” You cry, the sound of your voice slicing through the thickened air. “What is wrong with you?!”
“It was an accident!”
“I told you to stop and look what happens! Why don’t you ever listen to me?!”
“Will you just re—“
“Don’t,” you retort, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Do not tell me to relax. We have no clue what was in that vial and now it’s all over the floor, and probably seeping into the air as we speak.” A gasp falls from your lips, slipping through a shaky hand that covers them, as panic begins to settle in. “Fuck, Bucky, we don’t know what was in there! What if it kills us?!” Your eyes grow wide, tears brimming at your lower lash line.
He sighs heavily. “Sweetheart, please take a deep breath. We’re not going to die.”
Any other time the pet name would’ve had you stopping, tossing a snide, and probably hurtful, remark at him to not call you that—that he can’t call you that anymore. But in this moment, it falls on deaf ears, and you unknowingly ignore the squeeze in your chest his terms of endearment always elicit.
“You don’t know that!” You feel a tear slip down your cheek and you step away from Bucky and the stain, beginning to pace in front of the fireplace. “Fuck, this is so bad.”
“Everything is going to be okay,” Bucky begins, reaching for his coat and sliding his arms into the sleeves. “I’m gonna go get the hazmat kit from the Quinjet, and I’ll clean it up.”
Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you look to him and nod.
“I’ll be right back.”
You watch as he slips out the front door, a gust of icy wind sweeping through the small living room. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around yourself in an effort to warm yourself and calm your nerves.
Bucky returns not even five minutes later with a hard, black case. In an attempt to save yourself from any of the harmful effects of the liquid, you remain on the other side of the room, and allow Bucky to clean up his literal mess. He removes his coat and places a mask over his face before slipping on a pair of rubber gloves. From inside the case, he pulls out a few microfiber towels and spray bottles. With your thumbnail lodged between your teeth, you anxiously watch him work in silence.
“Okay,” Bucky sighs, dropping the last towel inside a black bag. “It’s all cleaned up.” He gives the floor one last spray before taking the trash bag to the front door and tossing it outside. Then, he turns to you. Concern colors his features, crinkling his brow and softening the corners of his eyes. “Are you okay?”
Still in a slight state of shock, you can only nod, eyes wide in worry.
“Do you feel okay?” He presses, slowly walking towards you.
You quietly nod again.
When he gets about a foot away, he places two large hands—one warm, one cool—on your upper arms. A gentle squeeze from both to ensure you’re still with him, his eyes searching yours. “Y/n,” he tries, “tell me you’re alright.”
Blinking several times, you can feel traces of rogue tears trailing down the skin of your cheeks, but then you’re nodding your head and taking a deep breath. “I’m…I’m okay.”
His hands don’t move, and you would never admit it, but his touch has always been a source of comfort for you. Even now, when you no longer can seek him out for it. With one final squeeze to your arms, Bucky drops his hands to his side and he lets out a breath.
“Maybe we should call it a night.”
Bucky turns to walk back over to the table to begin collecting the files and tablet, sliding them into a bag. A weight still sits on your shoulders, your feet like lead, holding you in place by the fire. It heats your legs; the warmth seeping through the fabric of your tact pants, and it would be unbearable, except, you’re more concerned with the heat spreading from within.
“Y/n,” Bucky softly calls out to you, “bed?”
“Ye—yeah,” voice sticking, you clear your throat and try again, “Yeah, bed.” Without giving Bucky another glance, you sweep a shoulder against him. When you reach the door to one of the bedrooms, it shuts with a definitive slam.
On the other side, you stand with your back against the wooden slab, chest heaving as you try to ignore the obscure feeling that something is off. Instead, you kick off your boots and crawl into the bed. Normally, you would’ve whined and complained about the hard mattress and scratchy sheets, but your mind is miles away from this small cabin. It isn’t until you hear the distant sound of the other bedroom door closing that you attempt to get some sleep.
It’s hot. So unbearably hot.
Your shirt and tact pants were discarded hours ago, leaving you only in your underwear and tank top; the blankets kicked off soon after. Even with the single window open in the middle of a snow storm, your body is still on fire. Sweat soaked through the thin sheets, dampening the fabric an uncomfortable amount. And as you continue to toss and turn, limbs thrashing from discomfort, you realize the sheets aren’t the only thing that’s damp.
You tried to ignore it. Tried to forget and tell yourself that’s not what this is. But as the minutes ticked by and your body grew hotter and hotter, the aching between your thighs screamed at you that this is definitely what you so desperately wished it wasn’t.
A fucking sex tonic.
Of course the one vial Bucky had to fuck around with consisted of a serum designed to make its recipients sexually aroused beyond reason; a feral experience until the ache is satiated.
You almost had enough sense to chastise yourself for not recognizing it sooner. The serum was only a myth until Steve and Nat found remnants of it on a mission a few months ago. Bruce was able to run some tests on it, and the findings even made the Hulk squirm.
But your mind is clouded with unquenched desire, the ache between your legs radiating into your lower abdomen now. A throbbing cramp has you curling over into the fetal position, a weak sob wracking through you as you press your face into the damp pillow, willing it all to stop.
From what you can remember of Bruce’s presentation, your options are very limited. You could wait for the serum to run its course, with the small chance it won’t send you into a pain induced coma. You could try to satiate the need yourself, but he warned this could also have a counter-effect, making the pain so unbearable you end up in a coma anyways. Or, and really what seems to be your only option, you engage in coitus.
Another cry rips from your lungs, the piercing pain continuing to uncomfortably pulsate under your skin, as you realize the only person who could help is the last person you would want to ask. Instead, you have a brief moment of lucidness and you allow your stubborn nature to take over.
Slowly, you shift to lay on your back, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes and trailing down your temples. With a shaky hand, you slide it under the elastic of your underwear in search of some relief. The fabric, damp and tacky with your arousal, brushes against your knuckles, but the second the pad of your middle finger touches your swollen clit, a sharp sting shoots up your body. It rips you apart, like a knife stabbing mercilessly at your insides and slicing you open; punishment for not doing what the serum is designed for.
A pitiful whine falls from your lips followed by a cry. It’s the only thing you can do as you roll back onto your side, pinching your legs together. The lust induced fever reaches unbearable heights, your consciousness waning when a new prickling sensation of needles all over your body takes over. It immediately has you resenting your stubbornness.
Then, a rough, almost desperate, knock breaks you from your thoughts. Through your delirium, it takes you a moment to gauge if it was real or not. But when you hear it again, you deduce it wasn’t a hallucinated side-effect of the serum.
On trembling limbs, you manage to get out of the bed. As you stand upright, you take a moment to grasp the nightstand. Dizziness swirls around your head, the room spinning as you attempt to discern up from down before taking the five, agonizing steps to the door.
With great effort, you turn the knob and pull the door open. On the other side, Bucky appears. Through blurry vision you can see he’s drenched in sweat, too. His long hair sticks to the sides of his face as a sheen of sweat glistens off his forehead. A flush like a blooming rose stains the shiny skin across his chest, reflecting off the moonlight as it rises and falls in rapid motions.
He clenches his hands into fists, but overall, he seems in a bit more control of his body than you, most likely in due part to the other serum that flows through his veins. But when you meet his gaze, there’s a burning, untamed desire spiraling in the depths of blue, blowing his pupils wide, and you realize his control is holding on by a feeble thread.
Seeing him ignites a new fire within you, and it takes you back to before. To a time when things were simple, and there were no defensive walls between you. To a time when you called him yours.
It forces you to let your guard down, and you nearly fall into his arms, whining, “Bucky…”
He catches you, scooping you into his arms and carrying you back to bed. Gently, he lays you atop the drenched mattress, his sinewy figure hovering over yours. He’s close, so close, and that fact alone is enough to make you lightheaded.
A blinding wave of lust crashes over you when you’re hit with a scent that you can only describe as him; musky with a hint of spice. But there’s a trace of something tangy you pick up on, and when you glance to the bulge in his boxers, you know it’s his arousal. The thought induces an uncontrollable throb to pulsate through your core, its effects rippling with pain and you cry out instinctively.
Bucky can only stare at you as he assesses the situation. He’s in his own world of discomfort, you’re sure of it. He can smell you on any normal given day, so you can only imagine what kind of restraint he’s using in this moment when his senses are in overdrive.
“Sweetheart, please tell me you didn’t try to touch yourself,” he pleads when he realizes how much agony you really are in.
Sobbing, you can only nod. A pattern of crescent moons indent into the clammy skin of his back as you dig your fingers into it, an attempt to hold onto something to ground yourself and take the pain away.
He lets out a sigh, one you think is mixed with slight frustration at your refusal to never ask him for help and genuine concern over your wellbeing.
“Please,” you cry again. “Help me.”
Biting through his bottom lip, Bucky can taste copper. His hands clutch at the sheets on either side of your head. The whirs of his left arm fill the heated space as it incessantly grinds from tension; the muscles of his right arm almost bulging out of their flesh confines. A rush of conflicted emotions scatters over every inch of his face; desire, guilt, a tortured sadness, love.
He wants to help you. Hell, he needs help himself, but even through the fierce blaze of pain his body is going through, his moral compass remains strong, and he doesn’t want to make you do anything you would regret.
“I don’t want…I can’t…” he stammers. “You’re with somebody else.”
“Bucky, I don’t give a fuck about that!” You scream, finding your voice through the pain. “If this doesn’t stop soon, I’ll kill you myself before this fucking serum can do it.” Sweat continues to build along your hairline, beading and dripping. Gripping his face, you hold him an inch away to ensure he hears you loud and clear. “I need you.”
The remaining shreds of hesitancy and decency Bucky clung to instantly flies out the open window, catching in the freezing wind and lost to the blizzard. With a firm hand, Bucky reaches behind your neck and crashes his lips to yours. The cool metal of his hand alleviates some of the feverishness, a brief moment of respite, but it’s the feeling of his lips moving against yours, the knowing of what’s to come, that brings you most relief.
A light brush of his clothed erection against your leg has Bucky on the verge of crying, skin crawling with need. His symptoms started after yours, he deduced by the looks of your state when you answered the door, but it doesn’t mean he’s in any less anguish. Everything from the angry red tip of his cock to the sensitive skin around his sac aches in the most unpleasant way.
Leaning closer to you, Bucky rests his chest against yours, only feeling slightly satiated as his body begs for more. But the pressure has you pulling back, sucking in a pained hiss through clenched teeth.
“It hurts,” you whine, eyes scrunched closed in hopes to mentally will the pain away.
Bucky glances down to your covered torso. Through the thin fabric of your tank top, he can see your peaked nipples straining against the white cotton. Without another thought, he slides his hands underneath and removes it one quick motion. In the next, he swirls his hot, wet tongue over one bud before encasing his lips around it, gently sucking at the needy flesh.
“Ahhh!” You cry breathily.
Desperate fingers tangle in his sweaty locks, pulling at the scalp as he tends to one breast then the other. The ache in your abdomen is beginning to subside, but it’s still not enough. Instinctively, you start bucking your hips up to meet his.
“I need it, please. I need you,” you whine into the top of his head, taking a deep breath as his delicious pheromones continue to invade your senses.
Stopping his motions, Bucky brings his lips back to yours for another bruising kiss. His flesh hand immediately begins to descend over your stomach, slipping under the hemline of your panties. He feels how wet you are; how incredibly, impossibly wet you are, and his cock jumps in his boxers at the feel of your warm arousal covering his digits.
This time when your clit is touched, there is no shooting pain, only a blooming sense of relief, and it sends a wave of goosebumps over your entire body. A choked moan sticks in your throat, tears welling in your eyes and spilling out.
“Yes,” you sigh.
Fingers still twisted in his hair, Bucky tends to your neck with sloppy kisses, the short hairs of his stubble scratchy against your skin. Small ripples of satisfaction pulse through your core at Bucky’s continued ministrations, the squelching sound of two thick fingers moving in and out of your heat condenses the heavy air. But it only lasts a few minutes before your body is burning up again; twisting your insides and reprimanding for not giving it what it needs.
Releasing the hold you have on his hair, your hands trail down his sides to his lower abdomen. The bristly hairs below his naval tickle your palm as you slip a hand under the elastic of his boxers. His cock is achingly hard when you wrap your fingers around it, thick and heavy, velvety soft in your hold. It’s the hardest you’ve ever felt and you wonder how he’s been able to restrain himself for this long. Gently, you sweep your thumb over the weeping tip, his pre-arousal hot and sticky.
A guttural groan, deep and pained, erupts from his chest, reverberating against the skin of your neck. Bucky shudders on top of you, body going slightly limp as he allows himself to bask in the brief moment of respite. God, he missed being touched by you.
Finally, Bucky picks his head up. His eyes are wide, a crazed, animalistic look glazing over the usual calm ocean blue, but there’s a flash of concern that cracks through.
“Are you ready? I don’t wan—“
“Yes, I’m fucking ready,” you grit out. “Now stop acting like you aren’t also dying for this and fuck me already.”
In a blur of heady movements, Bucky removes his boxers and rips your panties off, leaving you both stark naked together for the first time in a long time. Settling between your thighs, Bucky lines himself up at your entrance, your core already throbbing in anticipation. He easily sinks in, a chorus of moans breaking out when he passes the threshold, the first sense of real relief you’ve both felt all night.
When he bottoms out, it's the fullest you’ve ever felt. It’s an unexplainable feeling that has you wanting to claw your skin off at how amazing the sensation is; the ache almost satisfied.
Bucky nearly collapses on top of you. Also momentarily blissed out from the euphoric sense of relief, his forearms catch himself just before he crushes you with his weight. You’ve always been tight, but this, this has his toes curling and fingers gripping desperately at the headboard, willing himself to keep it together and not manically drive into you.
“Fuck,” he groans, and you can feel his body trembling against yours.
Nails dig into the slick skin of his lower back, pulling him into you briefly before demanding, “Move.”
Without having to be told twice, Bucky lets go and retracts his hips before relentlessly pounding into you. A scream rips from your lungs, and you think you could be on the verge of passing out. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, blending with muffled grunts and strangled moans.
“Always so tight,” Bucky groans against your open mouth. “So good for me.” He peppers kisses over your face, wiping a gentle hand over your forehead to remove some of the sweat that’s built up before using it to cradle the back of your head.
Your body is alight with a tingling desire, tuning you into every minute feeling; each veiny ridge of his cock drags against your silk walls, the coarse hairs at the base tickling your slick folds each time he reaches the hilt, a delicious full pressure filling you up. It creates a burning friction that has you already clenching around him, and your only reaction is to bury your face into his neck, nipping at the flesh there.
Bucky growls, his chest vibrating against yours. Blindly, he reaches for your right thigh with his metal hand, hiking it high over his hip. The new, deeper angle has you pulling your mouth away from his neck to blissfully cry out. The springs of the cheap mattress continuously prod at your lower back as Bucky shifts his weight to increase the force of his thrusts.
Above you, Bucky is teetering on the edge of losing all control and giving in to the innate primal urge clawing its way out, begging to be released. But the super soldier serum allows him to keep one hand on the wheel, and he’s grateful for that. At least one of you can keep a semi-level head in this situation—one that he’s to blame for. As he watches you, though, squirming under him from uncontrollable need, feeling you clench down around him over and over again, whimpering in a blissed out daze, his willpower is faltering.
With every rough snap of his hips, he feels you getting closer, the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting the sweet spot inside you. He’s mindful to not leave any marks; a partly coherent piece of him still aware enough to not leave any physical traces on you of this god awful event. The vibranium grip he has on your thigh loosens.
He’s careful to not leave a mark, but he lets you. From the bruising kisses already purpling on his neck to the harsh red lines scratched down his back, he lets you. And he silently curses the serum’s rapid healing effects, knowing he’ll only have these reminders for a short while. To remind him when you were his again, even if it isn’t in the way he wanted, he could still fool himself.
Two trembling arms snake around Bucky’s neck, your quivering thighs tighten against his hips. There’s a new throbbing ache, a building soreness, between your legs, but this time, it’s welcomed. Your insides begin to twist, the chord of pleasure straining for release.
Bucky momentarily frees your thigh from his hold to slip his metal hand between your sweat covered bodies. The typically cool metal is hot against your swollen clit as he rubs generous circles over it, pushing you closer to the edge of euphoria.
“Don’t stop,” you pant against the shell of his ear. “Please don’t stop.”
It takes only a few more rapid thrusts before your skin begins to prickle with the sensation of pins and needles. A contradiction of pain and pleasure emanating from your core, overwhelming you as the chord snaps and your entire body engulfs in flaming elation. It ceases your breathing, has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, vision blurred and whited out.
“Fuck, yes!” You cry out between strangled sobs, arms and legs securing firmly around Bucky.
Tightly clenching around him, Bucky nearly chokes on air, the tightest you’ve ever been, and he’s determined to reach his own release. His skin is on fire, body blazing with need and his rational mind slips as he finally gives in. Viscously snapping his hips into you, he’s so close he can almost taste it. A wild rush courses through him, egging him on and clouding his mind.
“My best girl,” he pants by your ear, face buried in the pillow you rest on, “my only girl.”
He continues to pound into you, his thrusts faltering every now and then when he feels a fluttering aftershock of your orgasm. “Love you,” he breathes between nips and kisses along your slack jaw, one hand gripping the back of your neck, the other gripping onto the underside of your thigh again, “so much.”
The words dissolve into the mist of your sex fueled haze and they’re quickly forgotten about as you blindly agree you love him too. He bites down gently on the skin of your shoulder, a feral growl reverberates through his entire body as he releases inside you, and he forces himself in as deep as he can go. So much for not leaving any marks.
The two of you stay like that for a moment, bodies trembling and hearts thundering wildly in your chests, competing against one another as you come down from the intense high. Like a thick fog, the lustful intoxication of the serum dissipates, clearing your minds and allowing the harsh reality of the situation to settle in.
A chill fills the room, a breath of wind spilling in from the open window, causing you to shudder beneath him. It’s the only thing you can really feel as a numbing after effect consumes you.
Bucky feels you slightly shaking and lifts up, letting go of your thigh and you let it limply fall to the mattress. Resting on one hand, Bucky uses the other to grip the base of his cock, slowly removing it from inside you. You both watch as he reappears covered in your mixed juices. Pained hisses cut through the silence when he’s fully out, taking a piece of you with him; or maybe it’s one he’s always had. An uncomfortable emptiness leaves you feeling hollow in more ways than one.
Then, Bucky is looking to you. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He searches your eyes for any indication that you’re in any form of discomfort.
You don’t respond; only stare blankly up at him for a moment before sliding your legs out from under him and gently push off the bed. Silently, you gather your clothing that was discarded in a feverish state of pain and desire, not even bothering to take the time to search for your underwear Bucky carelessly threw somewhere. As you move around the room, the warm stickiness of his spend begins to trail down your inner thigh, hastening your effort to get cleaned up. Without another glance in his direction, you slip out of the room and into the bathroom across the hall.
Cool, refreshing water cascades over your skin, simmering the boil of surging emotions inside. Anger at Bucky’s carelessness; guilt at cheating on your partner; and confusion at the newfound adoration you thought was buried long ago, when you and Bucky decided it was no longer working between you.
It’s difficult for you to discern when your feelings towards Bucky started blossoming again. You could easily brush it off as a lingering side effect of the serum—a slight emotional attachment to the person who took your pain away. But you know it’s so much more than that. If anything, tonight has brought to light all the feelings you’ve been trying to suppress for far too long.
Moments of catching yourself staring longer than you should; being secretly excited when assigned on missions together, despite outwardly protesting your discontent for the situation; nights spent wondering about the what ifs and could have beens.
The raging storm of confusion elicits a deep frustrated grumble. Slipping your head under the running water, you pray for it to help make sense of everything swirling around inside it.
The pipes squeak and groan as you cut off the water, drying off and redressing. But before you slip your shirt back on, you catch sight of a reddened mark on your right shoulder in the mirror. Grazing light fingers over it, you harshly bite down on your bottom lip to stop the threat of tears. Quickly, you drag your shirt over your head and cover it up, trying to forget that Bucky had been yours once again, if only for a moment. But there’s still a dull ache throbbing between your legs, radiating up into your chest and clamping around your heart, and you pull on every fiber in your being to not cry at the thought of it.
Opening the bathroom door, you peek out into the hallway, searching for any sign you’re not alone. When you don’t see one, you step out but stop before going back into your room.
The door hangs open, a clear view of tangled sheets and a fading imprint on the mattress the only remaining signs of what just occurred. The ache slightly intensifies the longer you stare at it. Instead, you opt to sleep on the couch in the living room.
The fire burned out hours ago, the room only illuminated now by the bright moon hanging outside the window. Laying on the couch, a numbness settles over your body, glassy eyes staring at the pulsating glow of the small pile of embers. Only a few minutes pass before you finally cave, crumbling into yourself as you allow the new wave of internal pain to take over, and you cry.
A soft weighted sensation stirs you from your sleep the next morning, and you have to quickly reach out to stop the blanket that covers you from slipping onto the floor. Gripping it, your brows knit together as curious eyes scan over the fabric. You don’t recall getting the blanket at any point during the night, and you slowly sit up to place it on the cushion beside you.
The front door opens, and you snap your head in the direction to see Bucky’s large figure appearing in the room, stomping his feet to rid his boots of snow. Instinctively, your eyes squint from the brightness of the sun reflecting on the whiteness outside, raising a hand to shield it. When Bucky catches sight that you’re awake, he stops his motions and stares at you.
His cerulean eyes are always brighter in the morning, something you remember from before, but no longer allow yourself to bask in. This morning, however, they’re a sad shade of grey; dull, puffy, and slightly red around the rim. A flicker of remorse flashes across his features as he notices your own disheveled state.
He uneasily clears his throat, dropping your gaze to remove the gloves from his hands. “The Quinjet is all packed. I figured you’d want to leave as soon as possible.” He clutches both gloves in one hand, looking to you once again. “I’m ready when you are.”
Blinking away the tears that burn the back of your eyes, you nod your head. “Okay.”
Almost like a hangover, you’re still a bit lightheaded from the after effects of the serum and your night of crying, wobbling a bit when you stand on two feet. In hopes to steady your equilibrium, you press the base of your palms into your eyes, taking a few deep breaths.
“Are you okay?” Bucky softly asks, voice ripe with worry.
“I’m fine.” The words scratch their way out, your throat sore from crying.
Without another word, you collect your belongings and rush out to the Quinjet, leaving Bucky to follow behind you. Settling in, you choose to sit as far away from him as possible, your skin already crawling at the prospect of sitting in an uncomfortable silence for the next four hours with your ex-boyfriend.
Your ex-boyfriend who you reluctantly had between your legs no less than eight hours ago.
The faint throb returns, constricting your chest, and you shift to turn away from him. Even from the pilot’s seat, you can feel Bucky’s stare burning through you. You shift again, curling your legs up and tucking an arm under your head in an attempt to get comfortable enough to hopefully fall asleep, and ignore the awkward tension brewing between you.
Once you’re finally back at the Compound, you can’t get off the Quinjet fast enough. As you land, Bucky rhetorically tells you he’ll finish up the rest of the post-mission paperwork, ensuring you won’t have to worry about it. You only nod before leaving him alone to retreat back to your room.
Five long days pass in a blur.
Nat came to check on you soon after you returned home. You internally debated telling her what happened, but the more you tried to keep it to yourself, the more it ate away at you. Once the initial shock wore off, she insisted you go to the med lab to get checked out, and then asked what you were going to do now.
You could only answer honestly when you said, “I don’t know.”
You knew you had to talk to Tom. The thought alone created a rock of dread that sat heavy in your stomach, but it was nothing compared to the thought of having to talk to Bucky.
It’s on the sixth day you finally manage to muster up enough courage to talk to the man you’ve been avoiding for almost a week. You haven’t seen Bucky since you returned home, mindful to keep your distance and you’re sure he tried to keep his, too. A few times you heard him coming and going from his room, and you think there was one night he lingered outside your door before he decided against coming to you.
The sound of his door closing breaks you from your thoughts, head snapping in the direction of the wooden barrier currently between you. Gently chewing on the inside of your cheek, you ponder for another moment before you ultimately decide to just get it over with, rip the metaphorical bandaid off and be done with it. Standing up from the chair you sit on, you take a deep breath and go to him.
Hesitantly, you raise a fisted hand to his door, knocking softly. You wait, your fingers wringing together as anxiety curdles in your stomach, and you almost turn to leave, but the door suddenly whips open. Bucky stands before you with a slight dip in his brow, eyes uncertain as he regards you, waiting for you to speak.
“Um,” you begin, voice low and shy, “can we talk?”
He remains silent, stepping to the side to open the door for you to enter. You falter, taking a step before second guessing if this is even a good idea, and you almost run back to your room until you stop yourself. Stop being dumb.
Bucky closes the door once you’re inside, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the fact you’re alone with him once again when he turns to face you. Goosebumps prick at your skin, the anxiety twisting your insides that much more.
“How are you?”
The weakness of your voice has you internally wincing. You’ve been with this man countless times before, fought with and against him, and all of a sudden you’re a fragile mess before him? No, you’re stronger than that. Pulling your shoulders back, you raise your chin as you wait for him to respond.
“I’ve been better,” he replies evenly.
You slowly nod. “I assume you went to see Bruce,” you begin, and continue once he confirms, “and I assume everything was okay?”
“That’s good.” You pause to rub your lips together, crossing your arms self-consciously over your midsection. “I told him the tonic took a few hours to take effect, so he thinks it might’ve been old.” Another pause before you sarcastically add, “Still potent once it starts working.”
Pinching his lips together into a thin line, Bucky doesn’t say anything. You notice the dull blue of his eyes, reminding you of the sad, stormy grey they were the morning after in the safe house.
Swallowing thickly, you briefly look away as your brain scatters for something else to say. With your mind distracted by other things, and in your haste to get this whole ordeal over with, you gave little thought to what you would say to him. You open your mouth to say something, what—you aren’t sure—but Bucky beats you to it.
“I really am sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
There’s a sadness that pulls at the corners of his eyes, a sincerity in his voice, but his words flip a switch inside you. No longer a lost, fragile mess, red begins to cloud your vision, anger seeping into your veins.
“Oh, so you’re finally taking ownership for your actions?” You spit. “That’s nice.”
Bucky lets out a frustrated sigh, rolling his eyes as he looks to the ceiling. “Please don’t do this.”
You choose to ignore him, continuing with your verbal assault and unsubstantiated accusations. “Or did you do it on purpose? Trying to get back in my pants again to prove some kind of sick point that I’ll always be yours? Is that it?”
Incredulity creases Bucky’s brows, his eyes widening at your outburst. “What are you talking about?” He asks, annoyance threading through his rising voice. “How was I supposed to know what it was?”
Clenching your back teeth, you shake your head at him. “Forget it,” you begin, moving to step around him. “Forget I even came here. This was stupid.”
You only make it halfway to the door before Bucky is grasping your upper arm, stopping your movements and swinging you back around to face him.
“No,” he firmly states, “you came here to talk, so let’s talk. This isn’t gonna be like before. I’m not going to let you run away from this.”
A tense silence falls between you, chests heaving as you stare each other down. Finally, Bucky speaks again, releasing your arm and dropping his gaze to the floor.
“What did your boyfriend say?”
Taking another hard swallow, your voice is low when you respond, “We’re not together anymore.”
Bucky swiftly picks his head up to look at you, guilt shining over his pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell me he broke up with you because of my fuck up.”
“No,” you sigh, eyes downcast to the floor. “I broke up with him.”
There’s a brief pause as Bucky processes your words. “Why would you do that?”
The question is simple, but the answer has left you in a tangled mess of emotions. “Because,” you pause, taking another deep breath, “because I realized something.”
Gazing back to Bucky, you choose to ignore your conflicted answer, and instead ask him a question of your own. A question you hope will help bring you some form of peace. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” His voice is low, nearly a whisper.
Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, steeling your frenzied nerves, you finally respond, “When we were…together, you said you loved me. Did you mean it?”
Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise, clearly not expecting you to bring that up. It was a slip of the tongue, spoken in the heat of the moment as he was overcome with a crazed desire. He didn’t think you heard it, or at least, didn’t really comprehend what he was saying, but he did mean it. He’s silently loved you from afar every single day since he let you walk away, always too afraid to admit it out loud to himself, and to you.
But he does. He loves you and he means it, every word. And in this moment, he’d rather ingest the sex tonic all over again, allow it to destroy him, than let you slip away a second time.
“Yes,” he replies, voice strong and full of conviction. His eyes hold your stare, watching as they gloss over with unshed tears. “I meant it.”
The confession has a breath catching in your throat. The raging war of confusing thoughts and feelings comes to a cease fire, your inner turmoil surrendering as everything falls back into place.
Without an ounce of hesitation, you reach out for him. Both hands grasp along his jaw, lips crashing onto his. Bucky reacts instantly, gripping your waist to pull you in. His lips are fierce against yours, desperate like a man starved, and his tongue slips out seeking yours.
The kiss is a bittersweet taste of resentment and longing. Tongues gliding against one another as you both forgive and remember what it’s like to be together again. It tastes like home.
Breathless, you pull away, eyes searching his—no longer dull and conflicted, they shine bright with a spark of hopefulness.
“I’m sorry, too,” you softly say, “and I’m willing to try again if you are.”
Bucky lets out a deep, pleased sigh, the beginnings of a smile curling the corner of his mouth. Tenderly, he places a chaste kiss to your lips, your cheek, and wraps two strong arms around you, securing you into a tight embrace.
“I missed you,” he says, the words muffled, his lips pressed against your shoulder.
The beating of your heart stutters at his admission, a pleasant flip in your belly, because you’ve missed him, too. So much, and more than you allowed yourself to admit.
Tightening your arms around his neck, you softly tell him, “I love you, too.”
And you mean it.
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Bucky : am I the only person who finds it weird that I can transfer data from my brain to someone else's by opening my mouth and pushing air with vibration in their direction?
Sam : How high are you?
Bucky : 6"0
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Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 5595
Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.
A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!
This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!
I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.
As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!
(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)
!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!
“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”
You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”
He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”
Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”
You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”
“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”
He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”
You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.
“I will, Buck. Promise.”
He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”
A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”
You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”
“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”
“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”
“Looking for me?”
Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”
Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”
You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.
The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.
It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.
“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”
The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say.
“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.
You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.
You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.
“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”
Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”
“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”
You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”
Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.
Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.
You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.
What a dream.
“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”
He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”
You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”
“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.
You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.
Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.
Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.
It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.
But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.
You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.
You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.
Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”
He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”
“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”
He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”
You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”
He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”
And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.
God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?
“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.
You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.
“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”
He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”
Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”
“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.
“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.
Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.
Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”
You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.
“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”
“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.
You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”
You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again.
“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”
“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.
Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. “You okay?’
“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.
You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.
What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.
“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.
“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”
“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.
You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”
He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”
You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”
“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”
He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”
He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.
“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.
He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”
Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”
“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”
You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”
“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”
Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”
“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”
Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?
Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.
You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.
You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.
Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.
Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.
You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.
Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.
Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?
You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.
“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.
Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”
You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.
You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”
“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”
Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.
It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.
“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”
She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.
When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.
“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.
“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.
You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”
Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”
“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”
Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”
Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.
“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”
You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.
“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I thought you told them.”
Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”
“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”
He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”
You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”
“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”
Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”
“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”
Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”
He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”
“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”
He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”
You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.
“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”
“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”
“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”
You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”
His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”
“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”
Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”
“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”
“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.
“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”
Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”
Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.
He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”
You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.
There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.
None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.
Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.
“She said come alone.”
“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.
Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”
Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.
Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.
It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”
As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”
You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”
He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.
“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.
“What’d you do?”
“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.
Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.
You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.
Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.
You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”
You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”
You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around.
Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?
Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.
You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred.
Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.
You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder.
Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.
The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.
You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.
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