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buckyalpine · 1 year

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Don’t Touch

18+ SMUT, Bucky is a menace and your little baby boy is a little shit, just like his dad.

Warnings: Horny dad Bucky, breeding kink, m masturbating, smutty smut with fluffy fluff

Bucky smirked, watching you pad around the kitchen, your hair still messy from the way he'd taken you apart that morning. Nothing was more beautiful than the way you looked right after sex; skin still warm, lips plump, your legs slightly shaky. You had thrown on his boxers and t-shirt, getting breakfast started, another set of little foot steps making their way down the hall.

Bucky looked up from the kitchen island, grinning at the way his son trudged in, his teddy bear tucked under his arm, softly rubbing his eyes. He walked straight to you, tugging on your shirt and holding his arms up, deciding he needed your cuddles first before food.

"Good morning baby bear" You smiled, scooping Jamie into your arms, giving his chubby cheek a kiss. You adored the pouty face he had, exactly like Bucky if you ever woke up him too early.

"Mama" He let out a sleepy yawn, snuggling into your hold while you kept him on your hip, pouring some coffee for you and Bucky. Of the many things that drove Bucky feral, the biggest thing was seeing you and the baby you made together. He didn't know what it was. It was something he never got tired of seeing, his mind now flooded with images of how pretty you had looked when you were pregnant. Your round belly. Full breasts. Tired face. The glow of your skin. He couldn't keep his hands off you then and he wasn't about to keep his hands to himself now.

Bucky grabbed a few plates, getting the table ready, eyes still locked on you while you continued to sway with the little one, the movement of your hips enticing him even more. He gave your ass a playful pinch while reaching for the dishes in the cabinets; if you weren't already carrying his son he would have fucked another baby into you then and there.

You yelped, your skin heating up, glaring at your husband while he wiggled his eyebrows, a silent message for where his mind was. Your son frowned, disliking the way you had stopped rocking him, now busy silently communicating with his daddy, your attention no longer on him. You set Jamie down, moving the food to the table.

"Don't touch mommy" He poked Bucky, a determined pout on his lips, unamused at his fathers antics so early in the morning. Mornings were his special cuddle time with his mommy, it wasn't fair, especially since his daddy got his "cuddle time" with you all night anyway.

"Yeah James, don’t touch mommy" you sasses while Bucky shook his head, his blue eyes narrowing at you, watching you bend over to pick your little one up and carry him off, sitting him in his highchair.

"Whatever you say, doll" Bucky murmured, with a new goal in mind.

If thats the game you wanted to play, who was he to go against what his little one said....

The rest of the day was torture for you.

Bucky made a point of walking around without a shirt, flexing his arms, his sweats handing low on his hips.

He made sure he pressed himself against you each time he had to just get by, letting you feel how hard he was, loving the way you glared at him.

As he stepped out of the shower, water droplets running down his body, his towel looked like it was about to fall off the entire time, the flimsy material doing nothin to hide the way his cock was erect and throbbing.

The little shit knew exactly what he was doing.

****

"James" You whined, your hands fisting his shirt, pulling him closer to you, your patience wearing thin. You were sitting on the dresser, nearly begging for Bucky to do something, anything but he shook his head, shamelessly letting his boner press against his pants. Bucky had teased you relentlessly all day, only to pull back each time, insisting he couldn't touch you. You came back from your date night with him, quickly shooing Steve away after he had put Jamie to sleep, in hopes Bucky would finally break and touch you.

"Thought I couldn't touch mommy" Bucky cocked an eyebrow while you pouted, the softest whine slipping past your lips feeling his erection press into you. "I really want to mama, but you heard what the little one said" Bucky chuckled at your frustrated growl, he could practically smell your arousal, loving the way your legs had parted, trying to press your core on him and rub yourself on his thigh.

"James!" You whined again, your pussy throbbing at the way his muscles tensed, your clit desperate for some type of stimulation. “Please...”

"Sorry baby, gotta keep my hands to myself" He kissed your cheek, stepping away from you and disappearing into the closet, throwing off all his clothes and emerging in just his boxers. You nearly drooled, his thick cock desperately straining against the fabric, desperate to be touched. Bucky laid down on the middle of the bed, one arm tucked under his head, the other coming down to give his boner a squeeze.

He locked his eyes with you, hooking his thumb under the waistband of his boxers, throwing them off and spreading his legs wide for you. His hand trailed down his body as he started to stroke himself, his chest rising and falling, groaning at the way you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together.

"W-what are you doing" You stood by the foot of the bed, unable to tear your eyes away from his weeping tip, his balls full and heavy, his hips rocking up every so slightly to match the movements of his strokes.

"What does it look like I'm doing" Bucky smirked, continuing to drag his fist up and down as he worked his cock, hissing, swiping his thumb across his slit. You could feel your pussy clench as he moaned, closing his eyes, his other hand coming down to tug at his balls. "Feel's fuckin' amazing baby, you know what I'm thinking of?" He locked his eyes with yours again, loving the way your dress was now on the floor along with your panties as you moved to straddle his thigh.

"Thinking about that pretty pussy wrapped around my cock baby, letting me blow all my cum and paint your walls”

You moaned, rocking yourself on him, your clit pressed firmly against his quads, grinding down for some type of simulation.

"Thinking about putting another baby in there mama, seeing you pregnant again, just imagining it makes me so fucking hard" He started to stroke himself faster, growling, watching your composure crumble further. “You see how wet my cock is for you baby, all thick and swollen, fuckin sensitive for you mama”

“Bucky pleasee” You’d never sounded this needy, your eyes glassy and skin hot, making a mess all over him.

"Can't touch you mommy" Bucky shook his head, letting you rock yourself faster, your head thrown back as you rubbed yourself on him, “Look at you, humping yourself and making a mess all over my thigh baby” Bucky tskd, moaning as he continued to touch himself, bringing his hand up to stroke the tip of his cock.

“So sensitive, my cock feels needy baby, you know that? Would feel soo fucking good to be in side your pussy right now, s’what I need, m’so horny for you mama, m’gonna end up having wet dreams tonight if I don’t cum at least twice right now”

“Need it James” you whined again, pleading with him, the smirk on his face making you more frustrated. “Want it in me” You were gushing around him, his thigh soaked from your arousal as you spread your legs further, circling your clit on him.

"Go ahead then baby, take what you need from daddy” Bucky tucked his arms behind his head, biting his lip as you scrambled to line yourself up with his cock, rubbing the silky head against your entrance. Bucky growled, using all of his restraint to keep himself from thrusting up as you sunk down on him, bouncing on his cock.

"F-fuck touch me daddy!" You cried out, your fingers dinging into his chest, slamming yourself down on him, your thighs already shaking. You could feel his hips rutting up slightly, his self-control starting to break each time your boobs bounced in his face, the thought of them full and swollen with milk making him feral.

"You sure thats what you want mama? You need daddy to touch you?"

"P-Please!"

"Whatever my angel wants" Bucky grabbed and flipped you under him, pounding you into the mattress while his hand came to play with your clit.

"This what you needed huh? Daddys fingers to play with your clit while his cock stretches and fills you?”

“Fuck yes daddy, needed this” Your nails clawed down his back, moaning at the heavy weight of his body, his hands all over you. He fucked you harder, precum making a mess in your pussy, his cock desperate to blow in you.

“You like when daddy touches you here baby? You need daddy to make you feel good, touch you all over, you like when daddy gets all fucked up and horny like this?” The bed creaked under Bucky’s relentless thrusts, the both of you climbing higher and higher, moans growing more desperate.

“Don’t-don’t stop!” Your pussy practically choked his cock as your orgasm started to crash over you, pulling him in deeper. You bit down onto his shoulder to keep from screaming, ankles locked around his waist.

“M’not gonna stop baby, not gonna stop till there's another baby in your belly. Not gonna stop until I have you knocked up and full of me” Bucky could feel his balls pull tight against his body, cum surging through his cock ready to spill into you.

“Get ready baby, gonna make you a mommy again, gonna get you so fucking pregnant-FUCKK” He stilled, moaning loudly against your neck, ropes of his seed throbbing inside you pussy, his cock jumping as he continued to spill inside you. “Take it baby, take daddy’s cum”

He continued to lazily rut into you, the both of you sweaty and panting as he leaked out of you, his head resting on your chest while you played with his hair. He let out a satisfied hum while you kissed his forehead, stroking his scruffy cheek.

“Y’know, if we have another little one, that’ll be two babies you have to compete with if you want my attention” You giggled while Bucky shot you a look, shaking his head.

“This is what I get for giving you a son as stubborn as me” Bucky chuckled, getting up to grab your clothes when he heard the sound of tiny feet padding towards your bedroom. “He loves his mommy just like I do”

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @perdidosbucky-yyo @clqrosmgc

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chrispy156 · 11 months

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The boys!!!! Finally finished lol

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lullyannie · 3 months

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Welcome home, cap ♡

it’s 3am and I’ve colored this drawing 2 times, trying not to make it too realistic because it isn’t my style but also trying to figure out what exactly is my style lol I’ve been drawing chibi for so long it’s a little hard to get out of my comfort zone, to be honest. I didn’t like it, but maybe in the future I’ll look at this and see how much I’ve improved (or not lol)

retweet/reblog; do not repost, please.

#if one day I have kids I’m gonna tell them this is how tfatws ended #they are married #the falcon and the winter soldier #sambucky #tfatws #bucky barnes #sam wilson #my art #winterfalcon #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier

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sorchathered · 5 months

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Getting my husband to watch Triple Frontier with me

My husband- you have a type boo

Me- what do you mean?

Husband- brown haired military men with ptsd who are a little grumpy and sassy…

Me- oh so basically I pick you in fictional characters everywhere I go.

Husband- shit. 🤦🏼‍♀️

😂😂😂😂

He’s not wrong though 😂

#benny miller #din djarin #bucky barnes #bob floyd #lewis pullman #pedro pascal #garrett hedlund #sebastian stan #bonus if they have some ptsd and trauma #he’s a bit of a fixer upper #and i love it #married life #triple frontier #catws #top gun maverick #the mandalorian

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stucky-headcanon-bot · 7 months

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🙄💍

#Steve never gives up a chance to brag about being married #He wants everyone to know he got to be Buckys #Could have made a whole neighbourhood jealous back in the day #married people drama #steve rogers #james barns #james buchanan barnes #stevebucky #white wolf #stucky #steve bucky #chris evans #sebastian stan

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companionjones · 7 months

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But He's Married (1/4)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Fandoms: Marvel, MCU

Summary: You meet a guy at a party.

Warnings: *Spoilers* Abusive relationship

1/2/3/4

*******

It was 11pm at a house-warming get-together that your friends Nat and Wanda had thrown you. It was really sweet of them, but honestly, you couldn't wait until everyone was gone and you had your new place to yourself again. You wanted to go to sleep.

"Hey, are you alright?" A man came through the crowd to where you were sitting alone on the couch.

You smiled. "Huh? Yeah. I'm okay. Just a little tired," you admitted.

He nodded. "I know how you feel. Me too. Is it okay if I sit?"

Not minding at all, you gestured to the spot next to you.

The man took a seat. "Yeah. This party's fun and everything, but I'm just more of a home body, I guess."

"Me too!" you related. "But I'm feeling a little less at home now with all these people here."

A look of surprise took over the man's face. "You're Y/n! This party is for you!"

"It is!" You laughed a little at his realization.

He then cringed, "Aw, I'm sorry you're not having fun at your own party. That sucks."

"It's not that bad," you lessened, "I'm very thankful that I have the friends that threw me this party. I'm just--"

"Exhausted," the man finished with you. He continued, "I got that." I had a long day at work today. I didn't really feel like going out."

You nodded. "Where do you work?"

"Stark Security," he answered without a second thought. "You?" He took a sip from his drink.

"The book store over on 3rd and South? I don't know if you know it--"

He almost choked on his beer. "I love going there! Have they got Kelly Pike's new book yet? How have I not seen you there?"

You started to laugh at his enthusiasm. It was adorable. "Well, to answer your first question, I believe her book came in earlier today. And the reason why you haven't seen me there is because I started yesterday. I just moved here. Hence the house-warming party?" You gestured around you.

The man grew sheepish. "Right. I guess I should've put that together..."

You smiled, "No, it's alright. So, what do you do at--"

"James?"

There were so many emotions that crossed his face when he heard what was apparently his name. Guilt, annoyance, even anger. You wondered what could've sparked all that when you turned your head to a very pissed off woman marching through the crowd.

James stood up. You did the same after a second of confusion.

"Shannon!" he greeted with a forced-happy tone. "You found me!"

"What do you mean 'found you'? Were you hiding from me?"

"No, that's not what I was sayi--"

"Who are you?" Shannon turned toward you venomously.

"Y/n L/n," you returned immediately, not trying to anger her further. You offered your hand for her to shake, but you brought it back down to your side when all she did was glare at it. "How do you two know each other?"

James looked as if he was going to say something but Shannon beat him to it. "I'm James' wife."

"Wife." You didn't know why you repeated that. You glanced at James, but he just offered you an apologetic look before Shannon pulled him away from you. She was muttering something about 'going home because this place is trashy'.

The rest of the party filed out pretty soon after that. You tried not to think that it was because of the small scene Shannon had caused.

One of the last guests to leave was a man named Steve. Apparently, he was close friends with James.

"Yeah. Bucky and I go way back," he told you.

"Bucky?" you wondered aloud.

Steve explained the nickname was from James' middle name: Buchanan.

"I saw you met Shannon too," the blond pointed out. "Word of advice: Don't pay much attention to her. Her bark is far worse than her bite." With that, Steve bid goodbye to you, Wanda, and Nat, and left for the night.

"You two don't have to stay to help clean up. It's pretty late." You offered to your two best friends when they started picking up trash.

Natasha clicked her tongue. "Don't start with that. We basically forced you to throw this party. We're staying."

"Of course we're staying," continued Wanda. "When else would we talk to you about McSteamy you were chatting up in the corner!"

Nat started chuckling.

The comment threw you through a loop. You felt your cheeks heat up. "We weren't in the corner..."

Wanda gasped, "So you admit you were chatting him up!"

"Well, I was..." you started.

Natasha's chuckles turned into full-out laughing.

"...But then I found he's married," you completed hastily.

Shaking her head, Wanda sypathized, "Poor, poor girl..."

Nat finished for her, "What have you gotten yourself into?"

*******

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #mcu #sebastian stan #companion jones #but he's married

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7soulstars · 20 days

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My Incorrect Universe #97

*At Avengers HQ*

Loki: I don’t think we can mansplain, manipulate, or malewife our way out of it this time.

Bucky, cracking his knuckles: manslaughter it is.

Me, spritzing them with a water spray bottle: hey! no! bad!

*meanwhile in Mirkwood*

Me: I can't believe you tried to assassinate Thorin!

Thranduil: Well, 'assassinate' implies it was politically motivated. I tried killing him because he is a dick, so technically I tried to murder him

Me: ohhhh

Elrond, his blood pressure rising: THAT DOES NOT MAKE IT ANY BETTER-

*me whenever Loki and Bucky misbehave*:

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scrumptious-delusion · 1 year

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let’s get married

series masterlist

summary: an undercover mission is nothing new for you or bucky. however, using the cover of a newly-wed couple is.

pairing: bucky barnes x agent!female reader

warnings: swearing, humour, fluff 🥺, mention of: murder, injuries, knives, and blood.

length: 4.1k

a/n: third part in the little bird series. written for my 3k celebration, the prompt is bolded. don’t hold the accuracy of the russian against me, i just used google ✌.

You peek up at Bucky out of the corner of your eye.

His gaze is focused on Charlie as they deliver the mission briefing you’re too preoccupied to listen to.

This is the first time you’ve seen Bucky in six weeks.

The first time you’ve seen him since he sent you a whole basket full of flowers.

The first time you’ve seen him since realising you love him - that you’re in love with him.

No big deal.

As always, Bucky’s thick beard is neatly trimmed in the shape of his jawline, while his long hair is tied in a bun at the base of his neck. Gazing lower, you admire how the short sleeve of Bucky’s shirt stretches around his muscled right bicep that you’re eye level with and fight back a longing sigh.

Bucky’s hot. You’ve appreciated that fact since the start of your partnership.

Of course you’ve dabbled in a fantasy or two in the privacy of your bedroom, long before your recent revelation. You’re only human. A human with hormones and desires.

I get horny, okay?

In hindsight, you should have realised those harmless daydreams were the product of something bigger. Of something you were deliberately ignoring until it slapped you in the face, smelling like flowers.

You can’t help but wonder how Bucky - the man who takes everything in stride, would react if you just blurted out those three words to him right here, in the middle of a mission rundown.

I love you.

“What?”

The world comes to a screeching halt with cartoon sound effects as you’re wrenched out of your thoughts so violently someone might as well have poured freezing cold water over your head.

Darting your gaze back to Bucky’s face you’re relieved to see his attention is still directed at Charlie, meaning you didn’t accidentally declare your love for him out loud.

But if Bucky wasn’t speaking to you, that means he was speaking to Charlie.

He’s never spoken to a handler before, and not only that, he sounded…

Dismayed.

“What?” You repeat urgently, needing to know what was said.

You’re witnessing world history. Nothing fazes Bucky. Your first mission together well and truly proved that.

What’s the number for the Guiness World Record people?

Charlie looks from Bucky to you with a raised eyebrow. “I said, you’ll be using the cover of a newly-wed couple.”

“What?”

[THAT AFTERNOON]

Number seven of Daisy Court sits at the very end of a cul-de-sac and is essentially a copy-and-paste of every other house on the street.

The two-storey house is grey with white trimming and a dark, wooden front door. The concrete driveway you currently stand on leads to a one-car garage, while a pathway veering off to the left takes you up to the front porch.

The lawn is a vivid green and if you were to pull out a ruler you’re certain every blade of grass would be the Homeowners Association approved length of two inches.

For the foreseeable future, this is home.

Turning your head to the right, you look up at your new husband.

“Welcome home, honey.”

The lame joke only earns you some side-eye.

Along with the new house and husband are the names, Elise and James Prescott. At first you didn’t think it fair that Bucky got to keep his name but you dropped the subject when he - unlike you, was forced to undergo a make-over.

Bucky’s beard exists only in memory now.

His hair has been shortened and styled to curl around his ears, thick and fluffy. Every time your gaze lands on it your fingers twitch with the urge to feel.

The short hair and clean-shaven face make Bucky seem younger and less over life.

Well, when he’s not frowning at least.

“Hello neighbours!”

Oh boy.

You and Bucky share a look.

Spinning around, you showcase a megawatt smile. “Hi!”

A man in his early thirties jogs up to you both with a friendly grin. “My wife is gonna be so mad she missed your arrival,” He laughs “She baked lemon bars for the occasion.”

Sean Weaver.

You recognise him from the surveillance photos in your information packet. One of the mission’s two main targets.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of her.” You croon, holding out your hand. “I’m Elise and this is my husband, James.”

My husband, James.

Your heart pounds out a sporadic rhythm at those words.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Sean.”

For a married man, Sean’s eyes linger a little too long in all the wrong places as he shakes your hand.

When he accepts Bucky’s hand next his face pinches into a slight wince.

It’s at that moment a car pulls up along the curb and an over-excited woman exits from the driver’s seat.

“Don’t tell me I almost missed the first introduction!”

Betty Weaver.

The mission’s other main target.

“Hello, hello,” The redhead grins, rushing up to wrap you in a hug. “I’m Betty, it’s so nice to meet you!”

Sean laughs at his wife’s enthusiasm. “Pumpkin, this is Elise and her husband, James.”

Betty releases you from her death grip, only to target Bucky next.

You can’t stop the laugh that shoots out of you when Bucky’s face momentarily displays his horror before falling unreadable once more as the smaller woman squeezes him.

Thankfully she steps back after only a moment, falling into her husband’s side.

“It’s been so long since we’ve had fresh faces around here.” Sean states.

Betty nods in agreement before asking “How long have you two been married?”

“A week.” You smile, wrapping your hands around Bucky’s closest bicep and pressing the side of your face into it.

This is how couples act, right?

A gasp, “Newly-weds, that’s so sweet!” A squeal, “Is this your first house?”

“It is.” You grin.

Leaning forward to poke Bucky’s chest, Betty orders “Don’t forget to carry her over the threshold mister.”

“I’m sure he was planning on it before I interrupted.” Sean chuckles goodnaturedly, looking down at his wife. “How about we leave the newly-weds to it?”

Betty pouts, but nods. “We’ll get properly acquainted once you’ve settled in.” She promises.

“I look forward to it.” You beam back.

“Well, until then neighbours.” Sean nods, ushering Betty back to her car.

You wave goodbye, one hand still around Bucky’s bicep as you allow him to lead you towards the house.

Three steps take you up onto the front porch and before you can even comment on Betty’s words, Bucky effortlessly sweeps you off your feet, cradling you in his arms bridal style. Instinctively, your arms loop around his neck, bringing your faces close together.

A squeal in the distance tells you the Weaver’s are still watching.

However, it’s hard to focus on anything when Bucky’s dark blue eyes are level with yours and only inches away. The back of his neck is warm against your forearm, and you can’t get over the feel of his bare skin on yours.

When Bucky speaks, his voice is low and rough. “Keys.”

Right.

Keeping your right arm around his neck, you dig the house keys out of your back jean pocket with your left hand. Bucky bends down when you get them free, allowing you to unlock the door and push it open.

He doesn’t straighten until he’s passed under the door frame and then he uses his foot to close the door behind him, blocking out the Weaver’s prying eyes.

Bucky lowers you to the floor slowly, waiting until you’re sure-footed before letting you go.

A tense, unfamiliar air lingers between the two of you.

“Well,” You scratch at the back of your neck “I think that went well.”

Bucky hums, watching you.

You’ve never struggled to fill a silence before, but suddenly something that’s so natural for you seems so hard.

C’mon, think of the mission. There’s gotta be something you can -

“Betty seems so nice, it’s hard to believe she’s murdered like fifteen people.”

[THE NEXT MORNING]

You find Bucky standing on the porch, looking out at the quiet neighbourhood as the morning sun breaks over the horizon.

A frown is etched between his eyebrows as he glares at the road.

“What did the street ever do to you?” You mumble sleepily, holding out a cup of coffee.

Bucky looks down at the drink, his eyes flicking to yours for a moment before he accepts the mug and stares at the road again.

“I hate cul-de-sacs, there’s only one way out and the people are kind of weird.” Bucky answers.

That has to be one of the longest sentences he’s ever spoken.

“Really? But everything about you screams suburbia.” You reply sarcastically.

Bucky’s mouth twitches.

“So…” Don’t ask, don’t ask. “I guess that means, you know,” Do not ask. “The whole wife and kids thing doesn’t appeal to you then.”

The mug pauses for a second on its journey to Bucky’s mouth before continuing. You watch as he takes a large sip and wonder if he’s going to respond.

Suddenly his dark blue eyes are piercing into you. “Do I have to like cul-de-sacs to want that?”

Why am I flushing?

“No, of course -”

“Morning neighbours!”

You both turn to see Betty jogging in place near your letterbox, waving eagerly.

“Morning!” You smile, waving back.

Grinning, Betty continues on her run.

Bucky twists around and heads back inside, sighing “I gotta get ready for work.”

Right.

James Prescott is an accountant at a local firm where he works five days a week from eight in the morning until five in the afternoon, like a good, upstanding American citizen.

You try not to laugh too much at the image of Bucky in a small office, surrounded by chatty co-workers and demanding customers.

As funny as it is, you can’t help but feel a little bad, having struck the better end of the deal once again.

Elise Prescott is an aspiring author and with her husband’s steady income, a stay at home wife.

Meaning, pretty much all of the mission’s reconnaissance falls solely on you.

Biting your lip, you try and fail to hold back your smile.

“Goodbye honey.”

With his back to the street and any spying neighbours, Bucky doesn’t hide his glare. “маленькая птица,” He warns quietly.

“Have the best day at work.” You continue, speaking louder than you normally would because you’re positive people are listening in.

Unable to resist, you raise your right hand and lightly tap his cheek. “Go make those numbers your bitch.”

Closing his eyes, Bucky inhales very, very deeply.

Your giggle has his eyes popping back open.

Okay, I’ve tormented the poor man enough.

Rocking up on your toes, you press a kiss to the clean shaven cheek you just tapped. “Bye.” You say more earnestly as you take a step away from him and the car.

Bucky studies you for a moment before climbing into the car and driving away. You wave until his car has disappeared down the street.

For just a second, the whole charade almost feels real.

[THREE DAYS LATER]

People always underestimate how boring and tedious undercover missions can be.

Since Bucky isn’t home for nine hours each weekday, you spend your days alone, re-reading the same information about your targets while staking them out.

You’ve introduced yourself to the neighbours that border you - the Weaver’s and the Newman’s, and they’ve introduced you to their neighbours and so forth.

Each day you take two walks around Daisy Court. The first in the morning after you see Bucky off to work and the second in the evening, just before Bucky returns home.

It’s a good way to make observations, start conversations, and familiarise yourself with everyone’s routines - particularly the Weaver’s.

Sean works from home, which means you’ve had no chance to snoop, but Betty has been your saving grace. Though she works in the city, she’s home by four every afternoon and she always joins you on your evening walks. It’s easy to pull snippets of useful information from her and today she provides you with the best news yet.

“After weeks of nagging him, he’s finally booked a doctor’s appointment.”

“Good!” You exclaim, “It’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

“Exactly!” Betty nods. “I’ll let you know what the doctor says tomorrow afternoon, his appointment is at quarter to two.”

No one will be home.

The two of you reach your driveway just as Bucky pulls in.

Glancing down at her watch, Betty sighs “I wish Sean was as punctual as your man.”

You don’t need to look at the time to know it’s exactly 5:15.

The driver’s door opens and Bucky’s long legs swing out before the rest of his towering body unfolds from the car.

Betty nudges you forward with a grin like she does every afternoon and you give her an eye-roll over your shoulder but approach your husband nonetheless.

“Hi honey.”

You know there’s a chance Bucky might kill you once this mission is over for all you’ve put him through while the neighbours are watching, but you’re having way too much fun to consider stopping.

“How was work?”

Bucky’s left eye twitches at your question as he shuts the car door and that makes you feel bad.

Sitting in a cubicle and being surrounded by people is going as well as one would imagine for him.

Leaning up on your toes, you press your now usual kiss to his cheek.

Bucky’s shoulder’s drop just slightly. “It was fine sweetheart.” He mumbles, placing a hand on your lower back.

Sweetheart?

Nodding at Betty, Bucky steers the two of you up to the house.

You’re too dazed to turn around and wave goodbye.

[THE NEXT AFTERNOON]

Peering out one of the second floor windows, you watch as Sean’s car disappears down the street. You’ve been on pins and needles all day waiting for him to leave for his appointment.

Time to shine.

Rushing to your backyard, you use a strategically placed garden statue to boost yourself over the fence and into the Weaver’s backyard.

Using a lock pick to open their back door, you enter cautiously.

Once you’re certain there’s no alarms for you to trip, you begin scouring the house. The layout is identical to your own and when you eventually wind up in the office upstairs it’s like striking gold.

You take pictures of every document outlining transactions, shippings, and other incriminating information. Every photo is automatically uploaded to a secure server.

Just as you’re flicking through a notepad for any useful scribbles, you hear the front door shut.

Fuck.

Looking down at your watch, the numbers 2:07 glare back at you.

Seriously?

Of course Sean Weaver would have the world’s quickest doctor’s appointment.

Alright, think.

The office is probably one of the first places Sean will go to so you can’t risk slipping out now in the hopes of getting around him to head for the back door. Turning to the window behind you, you push it open and analyse the drop.

Nope.

However, the trim that goes around the house exterior just below the window is thick enough for you to stand on with the tips of your toes - it’s a risk though.

The sound of Sean’s footsteps on the stairs makes the decision easy.

Straddling the windowsill, you dangle your right leg out and lower it until your foot makes contact with the trim. Gripping the house exterior with your right hand and the window frame with your left, you swing the rest of your body out, placing your left foot beside your right on the trim.

Using your left hand, you pull the window close.

Okay.

Your whole body shakes with the effort of holding yourself on the small ledge. Your hands are sweating and there’s no real purchase on the house wall, just the small grooves in the panelling that you grip at with your fingertips.

It shouldn’t surprise you that you slip.

Somehow you keep the scream trapped in your throat as you fall.

Miraculously, you manage to grab the trimming you had been standing on, effectively halting your descent. However, the sudden stop jars your arms and causes your body to swing into the house.

You knew there was no real chance of you hanging there long with your weakened arms, but now your drop to the ground isn’t as great - but fuck does it hurt.

It’s your knees that absorb the impact of the fall before you land on your left side with a thump. If it had been grass beneath you it wouldn’t have been so bad. Of course, It’s just your luck that you’ve fallen into a garden bed of pebbles, your forehead connecting with the sharp edge of one.

With no time to waste, you crawl as fast as you can to the fence.

There’s no advantage of a boost this time around, so you jump as high as you can, grasping at the top of the fence with both hands. Using all of your remaining strength, you heave yourself up and over.

You drop unceremoniously on the other side, having no energy to slowly lower yourself to the ground.

This particular fall doesn’t hurt as much, the grass making for a much softer landing.

In the safety of your backyard, you lay unmoving on your side, trying to catch your breath as your body throbs all over.

That was close.

Too close.

You tell yourself you’ll get up on the count of three and when you miss that cue, you count to three again, then again, then again -

Bucky will be home in three hours.

Waiting for him sounds like a much better plan.

“Y/N.”

The voice is unmistakable, making you frown.

Holy shit, that was a fast three hours.

“маленькая птица.” The edge of panic is clear in Bucky’s tone as you hear him drop to the ground beside you before rolling you onto your back.

“Hi honey.”

Bucky releases a rough exhale you think might have been a laugh if he wasn’t so concerned.

“You’re bleeding, what happened?” His words are sharp, demanding an answer.

Just as your mouth opens to give one, Bucky’s lifting you into his arms for the second time this week.

God, I could get used to this.

“Y/N.”

Oh right.

“Sean came home earlier than I expected.”

Bucky’s grip tightens around you as you recount your less than stellar escape.

“How come you’re home early?” You ask after you’ve finished.

Instead of answering you, Bucky lowers you onto the bed you’ve been sharing and then disappears into the bathroom.

Groaning, you sit yourself up on the edge of the mattress. “I got some really good intel.” You call out to him.

Bucky re-emerges with a handful of first aid supplies that he places next to you on the bed.

Crouching between your legs, he pulls a knife out of -

Where did he just pull that out of?

Also, “What are you -”

“Stay still.”

Before he’s even finished speaking, Bucky’s slicing his knife up the right leg of your jeans, from ankle to thigh.

He does the same to the left leg of your jeans, displaying your knees for his perusal. They’re red and already starting to bruise, but there’s no blood.

Ignoring the tingle his slashing sent up your spine, you say “You know, you could’ve just asked me to take them off.”

You’re starting to wonder how hard you hit your head and if you’re actually speaking as Bucky once again doesn’t respond, instead turning his attention to your arms.

Bucky wraps a hand around each of your wrists, raising them above your head to scrutinise your forearms and hands. They’re scratched up real good and bleeding lightly.

The next ten or so minutes pass by quietly as Bucky cleans your scratches with careful movements.

He leaves the cut on your forehead last.

Bucky’s metal hand cups your right cheek, the cold sensation an odd contradiction to the seemingly normal looking human hand you can see, courtesy of a cloaking device from Stark Industries for undercover missions like this one.

He cleans the cut above your left eyebrow as gently as he can but the pressure still causes you to wince.

Dark blue eyes cut to yours for a moment before focusing back on your injury.

You’re thankful for how lethargic your intense escape has made you, because if you were in an alert state right now you know your heart would be beating furiously at Bucky’s contact and close proximity.

Something he would’ve heard clear as day.

In fact, you’re feeling so lethargic your eyelids are beginning to droop.

“Hey,” Bucky murmurs “You with me?”

You hum, “Just tired.”

His metal thumb brushes over your cheek as he keeps working on your cut. “Gonna have to stay awake for a while, ‘til I know you’re okay.”

Eyes still closed, you huff.

“I’ll make you pasta for dinner.”

Your eyes shoot open at that and Bucky’s mouth tilts up in reaction.

“With garlic bread?” You ask hopefully.

Bucky’s nod makes you beam.

With a full stomach and Bucky’s permission to finally sleep, you crawl under the soft, white sheets of the king sized bed.

Curling onto your side facing Bucky, your eyes fall shut instantly, tiredness washing over you.

Reaching up, you gingerly touch the bandage Bucky placed over the cut on your forehead and your heart warms as you recall how he tended to you this afternoon.

“I never thanked you for the flowers.” You whisper suddenly into the darkness.

Despite calling Bucky not even an hour after you received them, you never said the words “thank you”. It had been the sole purpose of your call, but for some reason you couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t acknowledge what he’d done.

Acknowledging the flowers scared you, because it also felt like acknowledging your love for him - to him.

“You didn’t need to.” Is his simple reply.

“I did,” You disagree “They were beautiful Bucky, I… No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

The admission feels intimate, and you suppose it is. If you weren’t in such a drowsy state you wouldn’t be saying any of this.

When Bucky doesn’t respond after a couple of minutes you stop fighting the urge to sleep.

“Я куплю тебе столько цветов, сколько ты захочешь, маленькая птица.”

Already drifting off, you mumble “English.”

There’s a short pause.

“I’ll buy you as many flowers as you want, little bird.”

You fall soundly asleep at that moment, the confession heard only in your dreams.

[THE NEXT MORNING]

Pulling out a thick wad of junk mail from the letterbox, you close and lock the small hatch.

“Morning neighbour.”

Forcing a smile, you turn to face Sean as he approaches. He’s shirtless, wearing only long pyjama pants.

Meh. Seen better.

“Hey Sean.”

Coming to a stop in front of you, he leans against your letterbox. “Any plans for the weekend?”

“Um,” You make a thoughtful expression “I’m not sure, I haven’t asked James yet.”

Grinning, Sean states “Being newly-weds, I think the plan would be obvious.” Leaning closer to point at the bandage on your forehead, he winks “Though it looks like maybe you’re getting a little too wild.”

Jesus.

You can’t decide whether to knee him in the balls or punch him in the nose, which sums up almost every interaction you’ve had with Sean.

The guy is a serious creep, something his file failed to mention.

You’re thinking of a response when a large hand slides over your right hip, settling on your stomach and pressing you back into a hard body.

Oh.

“Morning Sean.” There’s nothing friendly in Bucky’s tone.

Without waiting for a response, Bucky’s other hand weaves into your hair and tilts your head back until your eyes lock with his.

“I thought I told you to stay in bed.” He husks.

You’re certain your eyes bulge out of your head.

It’s a good thing Bucky doesn’t expect a reply because there is not a single thought in your head. Just that sentence in that tone repeating over and over.

Fantasy fuel.

“Back inside.”

Yessiree.

Giving Sean a brief nod, Bucky takes you back to the house.

Stepping onto the porch, you’re still trying to remember your name when Bucky grunts beside you, gazing over his shoulder.

The arm around your waist tightens and the next thing you know, Bucky’s pulling you into his chest and kissing you.

Bucky’s mouth muffles your noise of surprise as his soft lips press against yours, absolutely bewitching you.

It’s the greatest kiss of your life and it only lasts five seconds.

Pulling back, Bucky’s dark blue eyes dart between yours, his pupils blown wide.

You can’t tell if it’s you or him who lunges forward to meet in another kiss.

This kiss isn’t gentle, rather it’s bruising and greedy. Your hands find purchase in Bucky’s hair, the junk mail forgotten on the ground as you’re walked backwards into the house, Bucky kicking the door shut behind him.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x agent!reader #scrumptious3k #let's get married

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sunnysideprincess · 5 months

Text

Last few days have been wild lol, had a cystectomy, finally met my cousin's husband and now people are asking me to get married and have a baby before "it's too late", so I wrote this instead of punching them

no actual cheating happens here

Steve Rogers is a respectable married man. But he's called in by Virginia Potts, told Tiberus Stone's husband needs a bodyguard and it's fine, he's fine. He can take the heat of a family known to sell weapons to death and destruction. Except the husband is Tony fucking Stark, a man who is so obviously trapped. A trophy for Tiberus like his mother was to his father. And while Stone gets to sleep around, Tony's kept on a chokehold by his own father, uncle and husband. He's a writhing chrysalis trying to evolve, trying to break free. And Steve is helplessly in love with those furious doe eyes looking at him with all the rage as he stops him from trying to sneak away. Again and again. But he is also in love with his husband for seven years. So there's nothing to be found here.

"It's for your own safety," he tries to tell Tony. But the man won't listen. He throws a punch, two. Accuses him for being his husband's spy. Steve assures him he's not. He tells him Miss Potts picked him. And that pulls Tony up short. Leeches the anger out and leaves sharp confusion instead.

"Pepper sent you?" And Steve is a respectable married man. But if those eyes don't stop looking at him with all the curious wonder of a predator, he doesn't know what would happen. All he knows is that he'll end up long buried.

There's a change. Where Tony's rage and struggle pulled Steve in like a depraved blackhole, his gentleness and wit tethers something inside Steve. Keeps him coming back. Tony is a genius. But he's not a psychopath like Stone, not a greedy bastard like Stane, not a businessman like his father. He has hopes and dreams that could save the world. He sees a future that's bright and green. And Steve is a respectable married man headed for ruin.

Steve tells Bucky he would be late. He tells him he's got priorities and his husband says nothing, just nods and kisses his cheek.

He should have known.

He finds Bucky beside James Rhodes, doned up in his Soldier regalia.

"I'm assigning Barnes to Tony's guard."

"We have Rogers."

"Well we've also got Ten Rings coming after him."

There's that. Even Howard Stark doesn't want his son dead. And though there's an ugly scowl on Stane's face he doesn't like, Steve is more worried about deciphering Bucky's blank stare and the gentle flex of his metal limb.

Things go differently this time around. Tony meets Bucky not with fury, but a gentle curiousity. Like he's trying to peek through the icy winds of a storm. He picks and prods at him like a cat sniffing a new scratch post. Asks about the arm. About the metal. About the joints. And the connectors. But never about how he lost the weighted piece of flesh in the first place.

Steve is torn between pulling them apart and asking Bucky to say something.

But Bucky has his back to him. And Tony's eyes are sharp as ever.

"You're lucky my Rhodeybear warned me about you. Or you would gotten the same treatment as him."

Steve can put it on paper. He won't even have to look to know Bucky's interest at that. He always loves it when someone shoves at Steve's immovable strength.

"I punched him. Twice," Tony explains, and like an automated machine Steve defends himself.

"It didn't hurt."

Bucky snorts, shakes his head and throws him a look which tucks the message home. We'll talk later.

"You came back all bruised like a peach."

"Oh," Tony breathes and then blushes. "Well, that's an image."

"I want him," he mourns to Bucky on the sparring mat. Once Bucky has beaten him senseless, gotten the rage of betrayal out of his system. Once Steve learns that he is a respectable married man. But he can learn to be not. "I want him for both of us."

It takes time. Bucky is wary. Skittish around this other guy.

There is Stane and his obvious displeasure. There is Ten Rings and their looming threat. There is Tony himself, pulling away, haunted by a sad, guilty shadow.

"I'm married. And so are you." There is that and more under. There is Stone and his pride. Bruises marking Tony's skin. There is rage boiling up inside Steve, checked by a cold press of Bucky's hand over his neck.

There is too much. And too little.

But when Bucky falls, Steve isn't there. He is trapped behind the rubble after someone blew up the building. He is trapped and worried about the old lady with him, calling for her son and her daughter, bleeding from her torso.

He isn't there. Yet when he gets home, Bucky is there with his fury and rage, his eyes dark and lips warm as he lunges at Steve.

"He's a fucking idiot," he snarls and Steve grins. "He's gonna get himself killed!"

After, Bucky tells him the story.

"He just fucking jumped in after the kid. Wearing a goddamn tom ford suit like it's armor. Ten Rings wanted him alive so of course they stopped shooting. Only saving grace is that I was there. Picked them off one by one."

"And now?"

"Fuck you, Rogers."

"You already did."

"Shut up. We gotta genius to save."

Now, Steve and Bucky are both respectable married men. But they are also known to be a little bit rotten on the inside.

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